Peter, in his Spidey suit: Guys, we’re out of candy.
Tony: What? Already? There’s only been like three kids.
Peter: Yeah, I know, but one little kid told me they loved me so I just gave them everything.
Peter, in his Spidey suit: Guys, we’re out of candy.
Tony: What? Already? There’s only been like three kids.
Peter: Yeah, I know, but one little kid told me they loved me so I just gave them everything.
Happy FFWF to you too!
Right now I have several WIPS but the longest is my @comfortember piece, hands down. I chose to do all of the prompts in one continuous fic. And at the rate of one prompt per day/chapter, I’m up to around 30,000 words of pure hurt/comfort, focusing on Peter’s recovery after having been kidnapped. I still have a few chapters to finish but I’m actually really excited to start posting it!
Thanks for asking!
In honor of season 2 of the Mandalorian dropping today, here’s Peter wearing the Mandalorian costume Tony bought him for Halloween! (Which of course, he’ll be trick-or-treating in with Morgan.) 🎃
Imma do Top 5, just ‘cause it’s late and I’m tired!
1) When Ant-Man Yeeted Peter
2) When Peter Got Rescued From Being Yeeted Into a Lake
3) When Tony Lost All Hope in the World
4) When Peter Took a Vacation to Space (and Decided to Almost Die)
5) When Peter Actually Died
Tbh, I was a bit confused when I first read this prompt because I was like who’s nick??? I used to read the books and I completely forgot that the second movie existed, so this is more of a mash-up of what I remember from the books and the movies
“I can’t believe this! This is absolutely unheard of! I feel cheated!
“You feel cheated?” Peter asks, still sitting on the very old, very plushy, very expensive chair and watching his father pace up and down the hallway, only raising an eyebrow. “I’m the one who gets cheated.”
“Well.” Tony stops turning to his son and crossing his arms over his chest. “We both are. And it’s stupid! Of all the old laws they could’ve dug up, they chose this one?”
Peter grimaces, not really knowing what to answer that.
For most of his life, Peter lived with his aunt May in Queens after his mother Mary, her boyfriend Richard and his uncle Ben died, thinking he’s absolutely ordinary – and then his estranged father Tony Stark suddenly appeared on their doorstep. Peter heard stories about him, of course. They told him he’s an influential politician in some small, European country.
It wasn’t technically wrong.
After all, a king can be described as an influential politician.
And he stopped by to tell Peter that he definitely has to take over that position one day and lead because he’s the only child he has and can’t get any more children. Peter, who was suddenly told he had to move to that little country named Genovia and leave his entire life behind, hadn’t been happy about it. There was some drama, some very annoying etiquette lessons, some screaming and door slamming and over the lawn running (which wasn’t allowed), a bit of bonding over Tony helping Peter fix Ben’s old car, and an eventual agreement that Peter would actually considering becoming a king.
Which he did consider.
And he said yes.
To this day, Peter can’t explain exactly what was going on with him when he agreed. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to lose any more family. Maybe it was the absurdity of becoming a king. Or maybe it was the fact that he can actually help people with this. (It also helped that he absolutely fell in love with the country, even with the weird signature pear taste – and now, he absolutely loves pear-popcorn)
Since then, Peter’s days have been filled with classes about what it means to be a king, about Genovia’s history, about its people, about his family, about which fork to use when you eat your salad, he even learned how to ride a horse because tradition or whatever. In college, he studied economics and politics (he would’ve loved to study biochemistry, but seeing what his future profession will be, it wasn’t that smart – besides, Tony started teaching him everything about science. Turns out his father is not only a king, but a science genius), all to prepare himself for this job.
And then the parliament happened.
Or more specifically: one certain member of the parliament. Lord Jones is a very charismatic and cunning man, trying to make Tony’s life as difficult as possible. This time, it’s by bringing up a law that forbids Peter from becoming the next king because he’s part American.
Who would be the next in line to the throne?
Considering that the Stark blood line would end when Peter can’t take up that position, it would be Lord Jones’ family; his daughter Michelle, to be exact.
“He must’ve spent days looking through all those old laws,” Tony is mumbling, obviously still furious. It didn’t help that he couldn’t scream at Lord Jones in the parliament room, knowing that there are enough members who are just waiting for Tony to do one wrong step.
“Maybe we should feel honored,” Peter says, slumped over the back of the chair. Instead of being as furious as his father, Peter feels so discouraged. All the self-doubt he’s been fighting for years over this comes back. There’s a reason that old law exists – what if they’re right? What if someone who’s 100% Genovian is a better fit to rule the country? Sure, Peter tried his best to catch up on everything that has the slightest bit to do with Genovia, but is it enough?
Is he really the best for this job?
Tony snaps his fingers in front of Peter’s face, pulling him out of his thought. “Hey, I know that face. No self-doubts. I’m not gonna allow it.”
“My self-doubts or the Jones’ taking the throne.”
“Both, of course.” Peter can’t even find it in himself to chuckle. Tony sniffs once, pulling closer another chair and sits down next to him. “All we need is to show the parliament that Lady Jones isn’t a better fit than you. So, as soon as we meet her, we have to look for every little flaw there is. Just anything that would make her unfit. Okay?”
Turns out, finding a flaw is almost impossible. Because in Peter’s eyes, Lady Michelle is so much better fit than him.
She’s wicked smart, and when she’s stares at you, you feel like she’s staring into your soul. She’s not afraid to ask uncomfortable questions, calling people out when they’re talking bullshit, she speaks all the languages that are commonly spoken in Genovia, she can have the most perfect manners (if she wants to), and she has a kind of confidence that is not unlike Tony’s – and one Peter doesn’t have at all.
It’s also not helping that she’s absolutely gorgeous and Peter forgets every single word he’s ever learned when she speaks to him.
And she speaks to him quite often. Probably because she figured out that Peter’s brain stops to work whenever she’s around.
Tony decided to throw a little party (he likes throwing parties), taking advantage of the warm, early summer days and their stunning garden. Peter is supposed to show the parliament members that he’s the only real candidate to be the next king, but after he spoke to only three of them, Lady Michelle finds him.
“Prince Peter,” she greets him, “we meet again.”
“Y-Yeah,” he stutters. “It’s, uh, nice to see you. Thank you for coming.”
She smiles that smile that lifts up only one half of her mouth, like she’s actually trying to fight it but can’t win. That smile does weird things to Peter’s stomach. “I’m sure your father isn’t too happy about it.”
“I’m sure your father isn’t happy about it either.”
The words are out of his mouth before Peter can think about them, and to his relief Lady Michelle only chuckles. “How about you show me around the garden your ancestors build to show off?”
Like so often with Lady Michelle, Peter doesn’t get the chance to decide – she already turned around and started strolling down the path.
They’re past the first couple of rose bushes when she speaks up.
“So, how’s your plan going on digging up dirt on me?”
“What?!” Peter asks, his voice jumping an octave higher. “I’m not- We’re not-” Lady Michelle only looks at him, raising one eyebrow. Peter’s shoulders slump down. “Well… Dad is determined to find something.”
“And if King Stark sets his mind to something, he gets it done.”
“Well, according to everyone around him, that’s true. I mean, he did manage to convince me to be his heir. And he’s still trying to teach one of his robots that motor oil shouldn’t be put into smoothies.”
“I feel honored that he – and you – invest so much time in me.” Peter doesn’t know what to say (at least what to say that doesn’t make him look like an idiot), so he doesn’t say anything. They walk in silence for a couple of paces before she speaks up again. “My father is doing the same, by the way. Trying to find as much dirt on you as you can.”
“He already did,” Peter answers, not able to stop the sting in his chest that everything he’s been working for the last couple of years might have been for nothing. “He found that law.”
“The parliament members might be old, but they aren’t stupid. They know that there are a lot, a lot worse candidates to take over the throne than you. I mean, you basically breathe helping people, and you have a smart enough head on your shoulders that you wouldn’t ruin the country. They can’t really ask for someone better than you.”
Peter feels his cheeks heat up and if anyone asks, it’s because of the midday sun over them. It has absolutely nothing to do with the practically most amazing young woman in the world complimenting him. “Well, uh, thank you.”
For a second, he wonders if he should compliment her in return (but which compliment to pick? There are so many), but before his brain can catch up, Lady Michelle is already continuing. “So, both our fathers think there are only two options.”
Peter doesn’t miss the tone of her voice. “And you don’t agree, Lady Michelle?”
“Call me MJ.” She stops turning to him. “No, I don’t agree. There’s another one. A much, much simpler one.”
“Which would be?”
MJ’s cheeks are turning pink and in that moment, Peter just knows what she’s about to say and his heart skips a beat. “We could rule together.”
Peter’s cheeks are burning as his brain absolutely refuses to function.
Peter: I don’t always cry.
Peter: Oh, there’s supposed to be more?
Okay but imagine Peter trying to make homemade pasta for dinner for him and May and having to call Tony because he’s on his 3rd batch and this one also keeps falling apart, then tony and Peter are Facetiming as Tony makes Pasta in the tower for Peter to follow along with.
I hope this is what you were looking for! This was v nice to write c:
“You’re kidding,” Tony says, a brow raised skeptically, aimed at where Peter is lying on his back, chair and all, looking up at him with a slightly bewildered expression that turns sheepish quickly when he, too, realizes what just happened.
Just a second ago Peter was sitting next to Tony, each on their respective stool, hunched over their latest project. Tony asked Peter if he could grab them something, Peter pushed himself off backwards in the general direction of the nearest toolbox, and somehow managed to get a loose shoelace caught in one of the wheels at the bottom of his stool.
He fell backwards, and now he’s lying on the ground, face red as he looks up at Tony who offers him his hand.
“All those reflexes and a simple plastic wheel can put you on your ass,” Tony teases further, but pulls Peter up to his feet nevertheless.
“Sorry,” he says, but Tony snickers and waves him away.
“Relax, Pete, don’t worry. Go fetch us those tools. But tie your laces before you do.”
“Peter?” Steve asks, twisting around to see where his running companion went just in time to catch him hauling himself up off the ground, dusting his hands off on his knees. Steve stops, and jogs back over, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “You okay there bud?”
“I’m fine!” Peter says quickly, giving a sheepish laugh, “C’mon, old man. Thought you wanted to race me. Last to the traffic lights buys the other a hot chocolate!”
As Peter runs off at full speed, Steve absently notes that there’s a little rock in the fine gravel beneath his feet, a bit bigger than the others, lying exactly in the spot that Peter’s stumbly footfall disturbed. Steve is quick to pick up the pace himself. He has a feeling that he’s going to want to be a little closer to Peter for the rest of their run.
“Woah there!” Thor’s voice booms with laughter as he gently pushes Peter back into a standing position from where he almost tumbled into him. Peter was a little bit too eager to go and say hello when the Asgardian appeared in the doorway to the communal area.
Before Thor can even really put him back on his feet, Peter is already off on a tangent, chatting the ears off the side of his head. All in all, Thor can’t help but think it’s adorable. He definitely has a little bit of a soft spot for the spider.
“Watch the step!”
Almost everyone is up on their feet at the same time. Peter stops dead in his tracks, only inches away from where the living room lowers into the sitting area. Hell, on his socks, even stopping that suddenly almost sends him falling backwards, but Peter quickly regains his balance.
He’s holding two big bowls of popcorn, one under each arm, for their movie night. Slowly, the Avengers sink back into their seats one by one.
“What?” Peter asks, tone almost a little affronted, “I know there’s an edge there. I’m not stupid.” And he takes another step.
He shouldn’t have said that.
He should not have said that.
Tony: Ah, it’s nice to finally relax. A drink, the sun, my best friend.
Rhodey: Yeah man. This is the life. Hey, you see that kid over there? Looks like they’re trying to hug a shark.
Tony: Yeah haha weird.
Tony: Oh shit that’s my kid
debate: is bad dad!tony still iron dad or does the bad stuff invalidate it?
TW: Graphic depictions of violence; blood
Tony felt his heart leap in fear when he heard a certain spider-baby’s voice behind him. He whirled around in mid air, dropping a few feet in shock before he stabilized himself.
“Hi, Mr. Stark!” Peter chirped excitedly, skillfully swinging in a large arc and flipping onto his armor, the eyes of his mask almost comically wide. “What’s up?”
Tony struggled to see the boy who was perched on his back, twisting his neck back and forth. “What the hell are you doing here, Pete?”
“I just wanted to help,” he whined, his head hovering upside down in front of Tony’s face.
“No, you don’t,” he grumbled, trying to grab hold of his kid, who was crawling all over his back to avoid him. “You want to go back to school and learn about why the adults in your life are trying to keep you safe.”
Peter giggled. “I know, Tony, and I am safe. I have you!”
He said it so cheerfully, so matter-of-factly, as if Tony’s heart hadn’t melted and his brain hadn’t turned to mush at his precious kid’s words. He was grateful for the helmet shielding his face, otherwise Peter might have been soaked in his tears.
“Mr. Stark? You okay?”
He jerked out of his stupor. “Yeah.” He sniffed. “Yeah, buddy, I’m great.”
“Okay.” Peter sounded suspicious, but he let it drop. “Sure.”
“So, um… what’s going on?” He looked around, trying to find the other Avengers and their opponent(s).
Peter barely saw the blast in time.
He jumped up and aimed a web at the nearest skyscraper, pulling Tony with him, the man letting out a shout of surprise.
The spot where they had just been was now raining down ash and bright purple sparks.
Peter blinked the black spots out of his eyes, his ears ringing slightly. Gradually he realized that Tony was shouting; they were moving fast, Tony’s metal arms wrapped tight around him.
“Peter! Are you okay, Bug?” the man yelled frantically, masked face hovering in front of Peter’s.
“Arachnid,” he corrected. He heard Tony breathe a heavy sigh of relief. They landed on the roof of a towering skyscraper. Peter was sure that Mr. Stark was running over his vitals in the suit and checking for any injuries, no matter how minor they might be. Peter rolled his eyes.
“What was that?” he asked, looking around wildly. “Is Mister Doctor Strange here?”
“I am,” said a dry voice behind them. “But that wasn’t me.”
Tony jumped protectively in front of Peter as they spun around, then relaxed, just slightly, when he recognized the tall figure standing in front of the remnants of a glowing orange portal.
“Strange,” Tony greeted.
“Stark.” Stephen nodded.
Peter waved, grinning.
“What’s with the light show?” Tony asked, setting a hand on his kid’s shoulder.
“A wizard,” the doctor said shortly. “And a powerful one, too. Neoma Ambrosia. She’s fairly new to magic, but she’s dangerous.”
“I think Neoma means ‘new moon’ in Greek,” Peter mused quietly. Tony ruffled his hair proudly, nodding. My genius kid, he thought fondly.
“Tony! What’s going on?”
Natasha, Sam, Steve, and Bucky ran up. Peter couldn’t help but wonder how they had climbed up to the roof. He imagined Sam trying to lug two super soldiers and a heavily armed assassin up a one hundred seventy-five meter tall skyscraper; Peter was sure he could do it.
“There’s a crazy wizard trying to kill us!” the young spider said enthusiastically. “Her name’s Neoma Ambrosia, which I’m pretty sure means ‘new moon’ in Greek, which is like, a super cool name. And she shoots purple fire! We haven’t seen her in, like, fifteen minutes, though.”
Tony chuckled as the other four Avengers blinked. His kid was a whirlwind, and he loved to listen to him chatter.
“Everyone keep watch!” Steve yelled, making Peter flinch. Tony squeezed his neck gently and glared at the super soldier, who remained oblivious. “Eyes peeled like grapes!”
“Ew,” Peter muttered.
They spent the next ten minutes straining their eyes for any sight of Neoma.
Tony was about to turn to Steve and suggest they search the ground, when the edge of the roof exploded with a familiar purple fire, right where Peter was standing.
Tony screamed his child’s name, white, icy-hot terror running through his veins. Rubble tumbled off that building, falling with the small red and blue body.
“No,” he whispered, thrusters at full speed. “No. No. No no no no!”
He crashed to the concrete and sprinted to the rubble that covered his kid.
“Peter, Peter, Peter,” he muttered fervently, throwing the huge boulders with his iron hands as if they were pebbles. He was sure he could lift them just as easily without his suit with the fear and adrenaline coursing through his veins. All the while he yelled, over and over again, the name of the one reason he got out of bed in the morning, the one reason he was alive: his only child, his son, his baby.
At last, at last, he spotted delicate curls peeking out from a hole in a red mask. Tony sobbed and crumpled to his knees, clearing the last of the rocks off of the boy’s small body.
“Peter,” he gasped. He peeled off his mask as gently as he could, hands trembling. “Peter.”
Miraculously, he was somehow awake. Tony sobbed frantically and kissed his forehead. His face was bruised and bloody, with tears rolling slowly off his cheeks. Peter held out shaking arms and made grabby hands, whimpering like a wounded kitten.
Tony ever so gently maneuvered the boy into his lap, Peter slumping heavily against his chest. He cupped his cheeks and kissed both of them, stroking his forehead and smiling tremulously. “Petey. Oh Petey.”
He bit back another cry, trying to hold in for his kid, who was cradled in his arms, bleeding and broken. Peter coughed, and with tremendous effort, lifted his hand to Tony’s face.
The man grasped it instantly, squeezing his small hand tight and trying to rub some sense of warmth into his cold skin. He pressed light kisses to the back of his hand.
“Oh, baby, oh my god,” Tony whispered breathlessly, rocking his child back and forth in his arms. “You’re okay, you’re okay, sweetheart, shh.”
Tears flowed down both their faces. Tony rushed to comfort Peter, forcing what he hoped was a reassuring smile and wiping away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “We’re gonna fix you up, Petey, just hold on. Hold on for me, ‘kay? Doctor Strange and the rest are just making sure it’s safe, and Doctor Cho is coming right now- she’ll be here any second, okay? You just gotta hold on, Petey.”
He sniffed and snuggled Peter more tightly against his chest. “All you gotta do is focus on me. Just look at me, honey. I love you, baby, I love you so much. Stay with me, il mio bambino.”
Peter’s eyes drifted lazily up to meet his. He struggled to focus on Tony’s face, his vision blurry and his eyes glassy. “Mi-mis’ er St’rk,” he croaked. “‘Ony.” He coughed, struggling to form words with his bloody, scratched lips and his dry mouth.
“Shh, shh,” Tony soothed. “Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re doing you great, Petey.” He tangled his fingers in Peter’s curls, smoothing his hair down comfortingly. “You’re doing so great, sweetheart, I’m so proud of you.” Tony hastily wiped away his tears, which had begun to fall down to Peter’s face. “Just hold on, please.”
He squeezed his hand tightly, looking away and blinking rapidly when he realized his façade of calmness was shattering.
Tony’s eyes snapped back to his kid in fear. “Petey-?” he asked worriedly, then followed his gaze.
The sounds of blasts and explosions and fighting that faded completely came back full force when he realized the wizard was just ten yards in front of them, standing tall on a hill rubble, her dark gray robes swirling around her.
Tony gasped. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he rushed to protect his kid. He wrapped his arms tightly around Peter’s head and curled around the small body, effectively shielding him from an inevitable spell or explosion.
He kicked off their pile of rubble and began to roll down, trying desperately to cushion Peter’s head as they gained momentum. Sharp stones slice at his skin but he favored protecting his kid far, far above his own safety.
There was an explosion, so bright that purple swam in front of Tony’s closed eyes. Shards of glass and rock rained down on them and Tony could do nothing but squeeze Peter tighter and press his lips to his forehead and hope this wouldn’t be the end.
Peter: Can we go to the liquid zoo?
Pepper: The what?
Tony: He means the aquarium.
I forgot these were supposed to be HC, I could’ve done them so much sooner
Hey y'all, got this chapter out a bit sooner than the last one!
For those who read the light novels of SAO this chapter will be kinda familiar, for those who have only watched the anime, this is the town where Kirito ran to after leaving Klein in Episode 1, and the quest where he got his Anneal Blade we see in the series.
Also, while I make no promises that it will make it into the story, I am open to suggestions on what kind of adventures or shenanigans you would like to see the boys get up to in SAO. As I’ve mentioned previously I don’t really intend to get the boys mixed up too much in the main canon, so if there’s an aspect of the SAO world in general you’d like to see explored outside of the main battles and Kirito’s storyline I’m open to considering it. I’m also ok with interactions with known characters, just trying to avoid writing the whole Kirito centric Aincrad arc.
Defend-rage spike, upward strike—
Peter fell back again, the post motion-delay that set in for a measly few seconds was nevertheless a highly vulnerable moment that he and Mr. Stark had figured out a work around for early on in their trek. The boars from Day 1 had been easy one hit kills, so they hadn’t noticed the system forced post-motion cool down period until they had been fighting on the road the next day. Their tag-team approach served them well, and best that Peter could tell from when they came upon other players in the wild, most of the rest had come to the same conclusion that they had. Because of that, it was unusual these days to find someone soloing in the pvp areas by choice.
Mr. Stark switched in with a strong horizontal slash, bringing the Little Nepenthe’s HP down to zero.
“You know, I was never one for plants anyway, but after this quest I swear to god I will never put a single point into the gardening skill,” said Mr. Stark as he sheathed his sword.
“I’ve told you, green stuff is sadness and disappointment solidified,” replied Peter, following suit.
“I still expect you to eat your greens, kid.”
“It’s a tragedy, I tell you. Here we are, trapped in a fantasy game and every meal is still served with vegetables.”
“Yeah, that’s the real tragedy here.”
Hello, Tony Stark.
Tony pulls his eyebrows together as he stares at the text from the unknown number. “How did that person get my number?”
“I do not know, boss.”
“Who is this?”
“Again, I do not know.”
“Trace the number.”
“I did that as soon as you got the message.”
“I can feel a but coming.”
“I could not find out anything about that person.”
I hope you’re in the mood for a scavenger hunt.
“This is clearly some kind of security breach. Like the private elevator.”
“I am certain that this person is not a SHIELD agent who could hack into your elevator.”
“Well, they are clearly good enough to somehow get my private phone number, so-”
A picture appears on Tony’s screen and he immediately forgets what he was talking about, all his thoughts coming to a screeching stop as the blood in his veins turns to ice.
The picture shows Peter lying in a coffin in a freshly dug grave; eyes closed, looking like he’s dead.
Tony is 89% sure he’s about to throw up. That is if he could actually get his body to move.
A new message pops up underneath the picture.
Let’s see how long he will last with the oxygen that is left.
The urge to throw the phone against the nearest wall, to see it get smashed into tiny pieces, simply for showing him that absolutely abominable picture, is almost overwhelmingly strong. The only reason he doesn’t follow that urge is because he needs that picture to find Peter.
“Find him,” Tony orders before even thinking about it, his heart beating painfully in his chest as his insides twist in agony. “Find him right now.”
“Mr. Parker’s phone is located in his home in Queens.”
“His watch,” he says, taking another look at the picture even though he wants to burn it out of his mind, never even glancing at it again. “He still has his watch.”
Tony is aware that this is most likely a trap. If someone is good enough to get access to his private phone number and takes the time to put Peter’s phone away, they wouldn’t overlook the watch. Especially if it looks exactly like the ones Stark Industries is about to put on the market next month – something Tony decided to do so everyone would simply think it to be a normal StarkWatch and not a special one that allows Tony to track him, get a read of his vitals, and keep him safe.
The second it takes FRIDAY to get the information from Peter’s watch feel like an eternity. His mind that is providing him with all the possible worst-case-scenarios isn’t helping. As soon as he gets the location – and the reassurance that Peter is still alive, even though he’s most likely panicking if his heartrate is anything to go by – Tony calls one of his suit, already in the air and flying before the face pate can slide into place.
He doesn’t care if this is a trap. In fact, he kinda wants it to be, only to meet the person who’s behind all of this and test out his latest weapon on them.
Because nobody will put Peter in this much danger and walk away alive. Tony will make sure of it.
Once again, the few moments it takes Tony to get to Peter’s location feel like an eternity, and if it weren’t for Peter’s vitals that are pulled up on his HUD, Tony would probably lose his mind. FRIDAY points out the freshly dug grave and as soon as Tony lands with a loud bang, he shoots a beam at the dirt, just the right angle to blow away the dirt but not hit the coffin below.
To his simultaneous horror and relief, he actually sees a coffin. The coffin Peter is inside of. After shoveling enough earth away to open it, Tony immediately throws open the lid, his helmet retracting at the same time. “Peter?!”
“H-H-Hey,” comes the shaky answer. The sparsely moonlight illuminates Peter’s tear streaked and very pale face. “Th-Thanks for getting me, Mr. Stark.”
Without saying a single word, Tony picks him up and flies them out of the shallow hole. Peter’s legs aren’t wobbly – his entire body is. Tony is seriously concerned that the boy might fall to the ground if he wouldn’t support him by having a very tight grip on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”
Tony knows it’s a lie.
Peter knows that Tony knows, so he gives him half of a shaky smile. “I mean, I have all the oxygen I need again, so that’s cool.”
Tony narrows his eyes. “Kid, don’t even joke-”
He gets interrupted by Peter’s sob. And like a switch has been flipped inside him, Peter leans forward (either to seek comfort or because he’s too weak, Tony can’t tell), slumping against his chest, eyes welling up again. “That was so scary,” he chokes out. “Like… really scary.”
“You’re safe now,” Tony says, pulling Peter against his chest and wrapping his arms around him, slightly rocking back and forth as all the tension and stress and horror leave Peter’s body, leaving him sobbing and clinging to Tony’s armor. He’s aware that he’ll most likely have a breakdown like this himself, but it has to wait after he made sure Peter is okay – and after he dealt with however was behind this. “I got you. You’re safe.”
Peter: Guys… I wore my mask in the shower again…