#Pete’s a shmuck | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monaisme · 3 years

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Day 2: “I can’t take this anymore.”

“Dude? Are you sure you’re okay? Ned asked for the millionth time. “Maybe you should call Mr. Stark?”

Peter refrained from rolling his eyes, wholly aware that it would definitely aggravate the headache that hadn’t dulled since, well... Flash. He pulled his binder and Spanish textbook out of his locker. “Ned, seriously, I’m—”

“...Still a loser! Isn’t that right, Penis?”

Peter barely had a chance to brace himself before Flash was slinging his arm and the entirety of his body weight over Peter’s shoulder and laughing. “I still can’t believe you didn’t see that soccer ball coming!”

Peter shoved Flash’s arm off. “Shut up, Flash.” Peter growled. “It’s sort of hard to see something coming when it’s behind you.”

Ned’s eyes widened. “But Pete?” he started, “Your Peter tin—”

How Ned had managed to keep Peter’s identity a secret so far was a mystery. “Yes! Ned!” Peter interrupted. “My Peter tinnitus!”

Ned floundered.

“Yeah, it totally sucks!” Peter’s eyes widened with panic. He definitely wasn’t getting any help from Ned. “It really only flares up when,” he lowered his voice and stared at Flash, “I’m shmucked in the head by uncoordinated teammates.”

“Who are you calling uncoordinated, loser?! That was precision at its finest. In fact, I should totally get someone to hack the school’s security system and get a copy for me! Imagine all the views on my TikTok! Oh! I know—I can loop it! The world will see your idiot face over and over and over... AND over!” Flash finally trailed off with dreams of viral video fame, then looked Peter dead in the eye. “You, Penis Parker, are the best target EVER! I don’t know why I bother with the others.”

Peter’s headache pulsed and he had to bite back a groan. “Look, can we save this for another time, Flash. I’m not in the mood.”

Flash stared at him for a second, blank faced, then quirked an eyebrow. “Okay, Parker, another time? Done. Let’s see how you feel after school, if that’s how you’re gonna be.”

“What? No way—”

“Stuff it, Penis.” Flash got up in his face. ”You’re about to be my new after school ‘appointment.’ Lucky for that foreign exchange student, huh?” With that declaration, Flash flicked Peter between the eyes and headed down the hall towards his own locker and out of sight.

Peter let himself fall back into the lockers and rubbed at his forehead with a defeated sigh.

“Peter?” Ned spoke quietly. “If you want, I can call Mr. Hogan for you. Mr. Stark gave me his phone number for emergencies and if this isn’t one then...”

“Ned, please stop.” Peter begged. “We have one more class and then I can head to the tower, take some painkillers, and forget about Flash and this crappy day.”

“But Flash said—”

“Ned, I know what he said!” Peter snapped, then took a hopefully calming breath. “Let me worry about it, alright? Flash is obviously having one of those days and you know it’s better me than someone else when he gets like this.”

Ned shook his head in disagreement. “Dude, no. Not today. You already feel like shit.”

“Well then, you can go and tell Raveed that Flash is looking for some after school entertainment!”

“Maybe if you talked to Morita...?”

“Seriously, man? Flash has the school admins by the gonads and you know it!” Peter pressed his fingers to his eyes trying to counter the pressure. “Do the iPads in the library generously donated by Harrison Thompson ring a bell?”

Ned snorted. “How someone named Harrison could CHOOSE to name their kid Eugene, I’ll never get it.”

Peter offered a fake chuckle in return as the warning bell rang. “Ugh, have fun in Comp Sci, man.” Peter moved into their handshake. “Meet you back here after class?”

“Naw, Pete, remember?” Ned’s hands followed Peter’s lead. “I’m getting picked up early. Dentist appointment.”

“Well, shit.” Peter huffed. “Wish me luck then.”

Ned bundled Peter in a hug, “Hello? Dentist?! You wish me luck!” Ned teased.”Besides, you don’t need luck, Pete. You’re Spider-Man.” And Ned left Peter standing alone in the hallway.

With no one to fool, Peter deflated. He mumbled a ‘mierda’ and shuffled off to Spanish class.

* * * * * *

Regret.

That was all Peter could focus on as the clock ticked down through the last 20 minutes of class. He regretted not letting Ned call Happy and he definitely regretted leaving his phone in his locker. Now if he wanted to contact anyone, it was with his Starkwatch and that was not something he wanted to deal with. A text saying ‘Hey. Killer headache. Need drugs’ was one thing. Any message sent via the watch was forwarded to ALL of the Avengers—even the newly pardoned ones.

... And he sure as heck wasn’t dealing with them.

He should have listened to Ned.

Or called someone himself.

Or just drowned himself in the boys’ washroom sink to put himself out of his misery.

... And he still had to deal with Flash.

Crap.

Yup. So much regret.

10 minutes—5 minutes—2 minutes...

Time slowed to the point where he wondered if the Time Stone was in play. It was just a fleeting, silly thought, but still too soon. His stomach clenched as he thought back on the time when—

Peter jumped as the final bell of the day rang through the room.

Crap.

He swallowed back saliva, the nausea distracting from his headache for a moment. That is until Flash strutted past Peter’s desk, cuffing him across the back of the head, brightening his pain once again.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Parker!” Flash sang out as he exited the classroom.

Double crap.

He tried to drag it out, slowly packing away his school items with unnecessary care. He’d have taken forever if he could, but that dream died with Senora Ramirez’s, “Vamos, Peter! Rapido por favour!”

Smiling back weakly, he replied, “Si, Senora Ramirez. Adios.” And he skulked out the door.

The hallway was almost empty by the time Peter made it to his locker, thank goodness. While his enhanced healing had barely started to touch his headache, the exhaustion of his metabolism trying and tentative hunger battling with his queasiness were real and uncomfortable. The quiet was good.

He took some deep breaths. “Okay,” he thought, “No thinking about the stones at school.”

More focussed, Peter managed to open his locker and grab his phone as it buzzed with a new text but his attempt to read it was interrupted by a rough shove; Peter’s shoulder connecting painfully with the locker’s frame.

“What part of ‘Don’t keep me waiting’ did you not understand, Penis?” Flash grabbed Peter by the shoulder and spun him around. “This is a smart school, ya’ know. Or maybe Mr. Scholarship doesn’t understand, huh?”

Peter flushed in embarrassment. “I’m smart.” Peter whispered.

“Well, if you’re so smart, you wouldn’t have made me have to come back into the school. Or are you deaf, too?” Flash shoved Peter back into the lockers.

Peter remained silent.

Flash slammed Peter back again, his head snapping back, too. “Dammit, Parker! Why do you make me so angry?”

How could anyone answer that question?

Again, Peter impacted the lockers. “You’re so pathetic, Penis. Standing in the gym, begging me to make you suffer.” Peter slammed again. “It’s so satisfying,” Flash hissed. “You’re practically asking for this.” With that, Flash reared back his fist and slammed it into Peter’s cheek. Spider-Man or not, it hurt, and the white bursts of light behind his eyelids spoke to that.

Was he begging for it?

Peter’s thoughts wandered to the time, in that moment when he slid down the wall to the floor. Had Raveed managed to catch his bus? Was he running late? Maybe his host family had picked him up.

A rough kick to his side pulled him from his thoughts. “There. That’ll keep me going ‘til tomorrow.” Flash grinned and stepped away.

Peter exhaled in relief.

“Nah,” Flash landed another kick to his thigh. “I lied. THAT will keep me going ‘til tomorrow.” Flash turned and jogged down the hall. “See you then, loser!” He turned the corner and was gone.

Peter closed his eyes and tentatively rested his head against the locker. Okay. It was done. He was okay. Peter picked up the phone that had landed on the floor beside him—Raveed had to be gone by now.

His phone buzzed again.

3:04pm

TonyBaloney: Hey! Got Rogues in house for meetings. :(

3:07pm

TonyBaloney: Reschedule?

Peter closed his eyes and inhaled. 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... and held the breath, only to lose his focus when his phone buzzed a third and fourth time.

3:08pm

TonyBaloney: Use that credit card. Buy some Thai for you and Aunt Hottie!

3:08pm

TonyBaloney: But don’t tell her I called her that!

3:08pm

TonyBaloney: Seriously, she’ll kill me.

Peter huffed out a real laugh at that. Aunt May would geld Mr. Stark if she ever found out his nickname for her. Not that he could tell her. But what was he going to do about the weekend? When Mr. Stark had invited him for the weekend, Peter was relieved. May was going away for some training conference in New Jersey and had told Peter to ask Mr. Stark to play babysitter. The spontaneous invite had kept Peter from looking like a kid and May got her wish. Win-win.

... and now none of that mattered.

3:10pm

PBWanKenobi: Np, Mr. STart. See you Tuesday?

3:10pm

PBWanKenobi: *Stark

His phone didn’t buzz again, and Peter didn’t expect it to. The Rogues tended to keep Mr. Stark pretty distracted. Besides, even feeling like hot garbage, Peter could still get excited about a suddenly free night of Spider-Manning. And really, how much energy would he expend helping little old ladies crossing the street?

* * * * * *

Hours later, Peter could ignore that deep ache across his shoulders and back and even the occasional tug as his mask stuck to the healing cut on his cheek. The headache was still a little much (read that as borderline unbearable), but he’d call the evening a win.

He was swinging and considering stopping at that new Mexican place across from the Dunkin’ Donuts for a burrito or two when his Spidey-senses flared and Spider-Man was twisting away from his original course toward an alley about a three blocks down the street.

His senses blared now. “Karen, call 9-1-1.”

“Peter, if I call now, you run the risk—”

“Don’t care.” His neck almost burned from the intensity. “Call now.”

A woman screamed in obvious pain.

“And tell them to send an ambulance.”

“Calling...” Karen responded and left Spider-Man to do what he did best. Save the day.

Spider-Man took no time to assess the situation and react: A man and a woman in a physical altercation- well, more like a behemoth of a man beating the shit out of this poor lady, oblivious to the fact that someone had joined the party.

She’d fallen unconscious, only held up by her hair grasped in his one hand as he pulled his fist back to punch her again with the other. A thwip of webbing and the man’s fist stopped in its path.

“Wha-?”

“Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?!” Spider-Man called out as he gave the webbing a yank and pulled the man away from his victim while blasting a cushion of webbing onto the concrete beneath the woman’s head.

The man’s initial confusion had passed quickly enough. He tried to remove the webbing from his right hand, but when that failed, simply went after Spider-Man with his left. “You got no business, here, ya’ freak!” He raged as he swung and missed. “She’s my woman! You got no say!” He swung and missed again.

“Dude,”Spider-Man jumped back, “Women have had the vote for, like, a hundred years! I’m pretty sure that she’s,” He jumped back again, “not your property, man!”

“She’s mine, ya’ bastard! And she knows what she did!” he raged, “She deserves everything she gets.” The man lunged one last time, going full bore on the young vigilante—and playing right into the trap. His fist came down as Spider-Man jumped up onto the alley wall. The crunch was nauseating and Peter was sure the man had to have broken at least three knuckle bones, if not several bones in his hand proper. He dropped his knees and cradled his injury, whimpering.

Spider-Man took advantage, securing the man to the ground with more webbing. He wasn’t going anywhere.

That taken care of, he rushed to the still unconscious woman on the ground. Now that he’d taken care of that dude, he could focus. “Karen, ETA on the ambulance?” He kneeled beside her prone body, better taking in her injuries.

“Two minutes, Peter.”

Okay, he could do two minutes. Her breathing was a little rough, and both of her eyes were swollen shut. He looked away, focused on the ground beside her and—were those teeth? This wasn’t the first beaten woman he’d helped, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that this one was different. He pulled in deep breath, and shook his head to try and clear it... but then this damned headache. No. Help would be here soon and she’d be okay. Yeah, she’d be okay. He was sure of it. He grabbed her hand, “You’ll be fine, lady. Help is coming.”

He pulled in a breath. He was okay.

The man in the webs sneered. “Awww, you’re so cute. Thinking that this is the last of it.” Spider-Man glared back him. The man gave a chin nod in her direction. “Who do you think is gonna bail me out?”

“No one deserves this, man! Why’d you do it? You could’ve killed her?” Spider-Man yelled. “Why?”

The man laughed, ugly and low. “You wanna know why?”

Spider-Man stared back at him.

"I’ll tell you why. ‘Cuz she’s so stupid, the bitch practically begs me to hit her. She needs to remember her place, that she’s nothin’ without me.” The man sneered, “and sometimes, it just feels so damn good.”

Flash’s words from earlier in the day suddenly echoed through Peter’s head. Yeah, Spider-Man was done for the day and Peter had a lot to think about.

“Karen, ETA?”

“Arrival is imminent. Might I suggest taking refuge on a rooftop to avoid detection by the local authorities?”

Peter looked at the bruised and swollen woman on the ground, gently placed her hand at her side, and then Spider-Man plastered a patch of webbing across the woman beater’s mouth. Peter didn’t want to listen to him anymore.

The ambulance and patrol car skidded to a halt in front of the alleyway almost simultaneously. A police officer exited his vehicle with weapon drawn and preparing to clear the alley for the EMTs to come down with their equipment .

“Peter?” Karen inquired.

“Yeah, I know. That’s my cue to leave.” And with the flick of a wrist, Spider-Man was off and away from the scene.

* * * * * *

It was past his curfew, and save for the fact that he was pretty sure he’d saved the life of that woman in the alley, stopped several muggings, a car accident, and finally caught that pickpocket that’d been targeting tourists for weeks—well, he’d regretted every decision he’d made since getting off of the subway after school.

He’d planned to stop after that man, but an inexplicable need to atone for his very existence ate at him and within minutes of stopping on that first rooftop, he was off and at it again.

And now his face still bled, his head pounded, and he wondered if his shoulder had dislocated and then corrected itself at some point in the evening. His ribs ached, his bruises throbbed, and something... something gnawed at his gut. No. Not something. Everything gnawed at his gut and thoughts were swirling around in his brain and he kept wondering why and how and if...”

“Incoming call from Tony Stark.”

Peter closed his eyes and drew in a calming breath.

“Peter?” Mr. Stark’s deceptively calm voice came over the comm. “Care to explain to me why I’m having to give the Spider-Baby a call at 1:27 on a Saturday morning when your curfew is midnight on the weekend?”

He didn’t know what to say, so he stuck to the truth, “I’m just thinking, Mr. Stark. I promise.”

“And you can’t do that from the comfort of your own home?”

Peter closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure that was the best plan, being alone in that exact moment.

“Pete? Are you going to answer me, ‘cuz Karen and FRI are both works of AI genius and I know this call hasn’t dropped.”

Peter inhaled again. That realization made it all too much. He wanted to...

“Pete?” Mr. Stark was alert now. “Pete? What’s going on?”

“I’m...” a sob fought its way free. What was Peter supposed to say? He wanted so badly to say he was good—that he was great and just taking in the cityscape before heading back to the apartment. He wanted to talk about the hot dog vendor who gives him extra sauerkraut on his hot dogs, ‘cuz it’ll put hair on his chest. Heck, he’d have settled for a story about free churros...

But he just felt so heavy.

“Peter, I’m calling up a suit now. I can be to you in two minutes.”

Two minutes? He had two minutes, and then Mr. Stark would know that Spider-Man wasn’t a superhero—he was a distraction, a target, a victim. That he existed solely for the universe to pour all of its hate and misfortune onto him for the benefit of others. That no matter how hard he tried, it would never be enough. That maybe Flash and Toomes and every punch and kick and stab were karma for Ben? His parents? That maybe if he wasn’t here...” Peter sobbed again. How could he say that all in two minutes?

Instead, Peter whispered, “Mr. Stark? I can’t take this anymore.”

There was a silence, then, and Peter panicked at the thought he’d said too much.

“I mean—it’s okay, I just...”

“Pete. Hang on just thirty more seconds, okay? I’m coming to you, right now. Do you hear me?”

Peter nodded.

Mr. Stark chuckled, “I can’t hear you nod, kid.”

“I hear you,” he breathed.

“Okay, ‘cuz I bet there’s a lot of stuff goin’ on in that head of yours that needs some revisiting and I imagine it’s not processing quite right just now, what with the concussion you’ve been dealing with,” Mr. Stark cussed under his breath. “Kid, Karen is telling FRI that you already had that concussion when the suit went on?”

Peter huffed a laugh and looked out onto the city. “Um,” his voice warbled as he answered, “It’s been a pretty shitty day.” He could see Iron Man in the distance.

“Definitely sounds like there’s a story there, kid.” Mr. Stark landed a few feet away then moved towards him, faceplate flipping up to reveal a look of concern. “I want to hear it but first, I think you need this first.” The Iron Man armour melted away and Mr. Stark pulled Peter into his arms.

Peter tensed. The hugging thing wasn’t new for them, but Peter was convinced that he didn’t deserve this—any of this and he couldn’t... couldn’t...”

“Hey, kid, you’re safe here.” Mr. Stark soothed. “I’ve got you.”

Peter burrowed himself into Mr. Stark’s chest, then shook his head ‘no.’

His head hurt so bad and he couldn’t stop crying.

“Hey, FRI? Can he take the mask off?”

A voice spoke out from the watch resting by his ear. “I’m afraid not, Boss. There are several CCTV cameras set for specific ongoing undercover operations. This would disrupt four active stake outs and potential chain of evidence.”

“Damn.” Tony thought for a second. “Hey, buddy,” leaned to talk quietly into Peter’s ear. “I’m gonna give you a lift, ‘kay? We’ll hang out at the tower, just like we planned and have a bit of a staycation this weekend, sound good?”

Peter’s energy level was ebbing but, even still, he remembered, “No, don’t want the Avengers to see me like this.” He pleaded.

“Yeah, they flaked after the last meeting wrapped up, bud. The tower’s free and clear. It’d be you and me and bad 80s sci-fi. What do you say?”

Peter shrugged. It was all he could give.

And Mr. Stark took it. “Okay, kiddo, I’m gonna let of you now so I can get back into my suit, okay? And then I’m gonna pick you up so we can get this party started... whenever you’re ready.”

Peter hesitated, and then pulled himself out of Mr. Stark’s arms. Peter stepped back, looking unsure of himself.

With the tap of a button, the suit completely encased the man in seconds. “Alrighty, then. How do you want to do this, Pete? Piggy-back? Bridal-style?”

Peter was paralyzed with indecision. “I... I... um...”

The faceplate flipped up again and Tony took in the boy’s state, “How’s about dealer’s choice, hey?”

Peter nodded in relief and managed to not squeak when Iron Man scooped him up into his metal arms. “Why don’t you just relax. I’ve got ya’.” And with that, Iron Man rocketed off the rooftop and towards Avengers Tower.

It seemed that Mr. Stark didn’t feel as much urgency returning to the tower as he had when he’d headed over to Peter on the roof.

It was nice.

“Hey, Pete?” Mr. Stark interrupted the quiet, “I’m lookin’ at the injury report that Karen sent FRIDAY. I know you can’t be feeling great, so how’s about we make a quick pit stop at the medbay and get you checked out, huh?”

“I’m fine.” The words left his mouth before he could process it.

Mr. Stark was quiet for a minute, and then, “You know, Pete, just because you can deal with feeling bad or are even used to feeling bad, it doesn’t mean you have to settle for it.”

Peter remained silent.

“You don’t deserve to be in pain, bud.”

How could Peter reply to that? He lowered his head into the Iron Man’s chest and they continued onward.

Within moments, they were touching down on the landing pad outside of the Stark penthouse. Peter waited to be put down, but Mr. Stark walked forward, the suit dismantling around him until it was simply Mr. Stark carrying him.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Hang on, kid. Almost there.” He grunted in exertion.

They made their way to the couch where Tony gently placed Peter, sitting him down on the couch before planting himself on the coffee table in front of it.

“Okay, first things first,” Tony announced and reached forward to carefully remove the Spider-Man mask.

Peter allowed it, but kept his eyes lowered.

But Mr. Stark wouldn’t allow that. Mr. Stark cupped Peter’s cheek and guided Peter’s face upward. Peter tried to look away, but Mr. Stark refused to allow it.

“Peter Parker, you look me in the eye right now, please.”

His tears welled up again, but he did it.

“Good job, kid. Now I need you listen to me, and you listen to me good.”

Peter couldn’t look away.

“You do not need to be okay with feeling bad.”

Peter shook his head to disagree.

Tony continued. “You do not deserve to feel bad,” Tony wiped away Peter’s tears. “And you sure as hell do not need to hide from any of the people that love you that you feel bad.”

Mr. Stark moved his calloused hand from Peter’s face to brush a curl from his forehead. “If you need a list of people who love you, they include, but are not exclusive to: Your Aunt May, Ned, MJ, Rhodey—who still wants you to call him Uncle Rhodey, by the way.”

Peter chuckled.

Mr. Stark beamed, “Now where was I? Oh, yeah! Happy—just don’t tell him I told you,” Mr. Stark gave a conspiratorial wink at that one. “Pepper! And Brucie! Do I need to keep going? ‘Cuz I will. Hell, I bet that guy that makes your sandwiches loves you, kid.”

Peter didn’t know what to say.

“I’m at the top of that list, Peter.” Peter could hear the affection in Mr. Stark’s voice.

“You, Mister Peter Park, are allowed to not be okay. Sometimes life is shit, but half the fun is in getting through this together. You got me?”

Peter managed a timid nod.

“Good, so do you wanna go to the medbay and see if we have something for the killer headache you’ve got to have?”

“Please,” Peter replied.

“You’re feeling pretty bad?”

“Yeah, and, uh...” Peter didn’t quite know how to say it. “Um, I’m not okay.”

Tony shuffled closer, pulled Peter into an all-encompassing hug, and whispered, “I hear you, Peter, but we’re gonna get you there.”

@febuwhump

#febuwhump #febuwhump 2021 #irondad and spiderson #fanfiction #domestic abuse tw #suicidal thoughts tw #bullying tw #depression tw #mental health tw

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illusionlock · 4 years

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Read a chunk of the preview for Step Closer (just a chunk tho bc JESUS its long like hello?? Thats not just a preview at this point) with my boyfriend last night and i have... mixed feelings about it

On the one hand i really like the balance between incorporating fnaf and its aesthetics into the story without going FULL ON oooh freaky murder robots, yeah the first paragraphs are kinda cheesy bloody but the actual encounter with foxy feels really fitting to the balance of fnaf aesthetic. Like its freaky but nothing really happens just yet. Im kind of a psychological horror loving shmuck so i personally really like how theres no visible threat coming for pete yet, hes just haunted by what he saw and heard and karma thats coming for him. I do have a theory about whats going on but thats not relevant right now. I really like how the butcher shop scene was written, i feel like it really drives home the paranoid feeling the narrative is building.

Unfortunately i just really hate how the main characters are written, they are just. Stereotypes. Pete is perhaps the worst to read through. He doesnt act like a modern sixteen year old living in the late 2010s-2020, he acts like a caricature of a cool kid bully from an 80s cartoon. Seriously who the fuck uses words like chump and twerp right now? He didnt even call the big spider he saw a "big boi". And we know if he was a REAL edgy sixteen year old hed have a gore blog and make violent collages saying theyre dedicated to *****.

Chuck is perhaps the better written, not during his first section with Pete when he's a stereotypical wimpy nerd kid, but when the POV switches over to him you really learn to care much better for him and understand his motivations, and the way he admits to knowing about his brothers turmoil and wanting to be as least annoying as possible feels very real. Now their mother... she is very stereotypical but I kind of like her, if only because its so funny how much of a nightmare of a mother she is. Signing up her kids without their consent to be organ donors without even trying to really connect to them? Eesh. And the way she talks... hits every note on the scarily cheerful yet invasive character list.

Furthermore there are just. Basic writing flaws that you really think a book with a big franchise tied to it should not be allowed to make. Most specifically there will be parahraphs that go on for too long, and dont switch when a new action is taken or another character does something. It should be obvious to anyone with a basic understanding of literature that you switch paragraphs when: time advances/changes; place changes; character changes; new action is taken. It felt often times that I was Reading a very amateur fanfiction.

There also were huge flaws with repeating and drilling easily deductible concepts into our heads. I specially disliked the part where the staff at freddys HAVE to say out loud that foxy is on manteinance, when they could have just said he is on vacation, nudged each other and laughed about it, and left Pete to show the deductive skills to figure out that by himself. But perhaps more annoying is how the divorce of petes parents is brought up several times, we hear how pete feels about it the first time, but then it keeps cycling back, and petes feelings and train of thought dont really evolve beyond that, like the narrative just wants to remind us, but never does much with it.

#don't be scared. i am here with you.

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ofnifflersandkings · 5 years

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Title: Nothing Like an Old Friend

Character: Peter Quill

A/n: okay so like Thor actually isn’t in this part since this is really more for setting the stage. our good pal Peter Quill takes center for now but the series is for our thunder boy; it’ll make sense i pinky swear

•

Truthfully, you didn’t remember falling alseep the night before. And you certainly don’t remember doing so right at your work table, surrounded some of the most dangerous weapons in the universe.

Just above where your head laid sprawled out on your arm was a ZF1 blaster you had been commissioned to repair the nitrogen gas unit. One wrong bump and you would’ve been incinerated.

So really, you should have been thankful to whoever was insistently pressing on your door buzzer.

But you also were never a morning person.

You huffed, sending peices of your flying upwards as you did. “Honestly, if a sign says closed you’d think people know not to bother.”

Just as you were about to turn on your mic to give whoever was clattering about at your front door,

“Starlord speaking.”

Your head sprung up as you recognized that all-too-familiar voice boom into your workshop.

“Wakey, wakey (Y/n). I know you don’t have any other friends, so you must be in.”

You jumped up from your seat. Nearly flying over to the monitor as you saw Peter, obnoxiously waving at the camera with a smug smile on his face.

“What? Are you just gonna make me stand out here all day?”

In your excitement, you forgot to unlock the door. You pressed the button and bolted over to your shop’s entrance, just in time for it to slide open and reveal your dearest friend.

You barely got the chance to open your mouth and respond when you were plucked right into his arms, Peter’s hold on you tight as he chuckled.

You didn’t hesitate to return his embrace. “I thought I’d never see you again!” You mused, patting the back of his shoulder.

“You and me both.”

Something was wrong. His tone was off, you could tell even as he covered it with a big smile. Another big give away was how his hug seemed to linger longer than they usually did.

You pulled back to get a better look at him. “Everything alright?”

Peter heaved a long sigh, releasing you after one final squeeze. “Nothing you have to worry about,” He gave you a quick look over. “Can see your hair has gotten longer.”

You smiled, despite knowing he was deterring the conversation. You let him get away with it this time. “I can see you’re still a terrible liar.”

He chuckled, turning around so he could pull something out of his bag without you seeing. “Anyways, remember that mask I got off you for my one mission in Morag?”

“You broke it again, didn’t you?” You said, not even bothering to look up as you cleared off the space on your desk.

Peter scoffed, hiding the helmet behind his back. “You always gonna assume the worst from me?”

You met his gaze, laughing when you saw the way his arm was positioned. “Are you ever gonna prove me wrong?” You pushed over the machine you currently working on and held out your hand. “Give it here then.”

Peter revealed his busted helmet, ashamed when he saw the single blinking red eyepiece with and how bashed in the one side had become.

Even still, just as you were about to take it from him, Peter held it high above his head. “First, I’m gonna need one more hug.”

You beamed at him, not hesitating to pull him into your tight hold. It had been too long since he last brought everyone to come see you.

“You shouldn’t stay away so long next time,” You mused, plucking the hunk of metal from his fingers and bringing it over to one of your work benches. “I miss you all too much.”

Peter kicked over a chair so he could sit next to you while you worked, fiddling with the endless sea of mechanical devices you had all around. “You wouldn’t need to miss us if you thought about my offer,” He said, wiggling his brows when you glanced up at him. “You’re always welcome to join to team.”

You smiled as you popped open the helmet’s casing to assess the damage. “Nah, I’ve never been the rough, tough, save the universe kinda person,” You peered over again and faltered at his dejected expression. “But I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever change my mind.”

Peter shrugged. “I guess I can’t annoy you about it too much this time. Had someone new invite themselves on board not too long ago.” He tone was especially grumbly and you smirked. You would’ve replied, but as soon as you assess all the damages you were already cracking open the metal casing to work.

You were always especially silent whenever you were focused on your work, preferring to pay attention to any small details. Peter never minded though, you were fascinating to watch. He made it a personal game to mentally keep

track of how fast you were able to fix something, almost beating your record everytime.

But, in a sudden break of character, you glanced over at him. “So, who’s the new guy?”

Peter’s brows knit together and he leaned back in his seat. “Apart from being the biggest pain in my ass? Some hotshot back on Earth.”

You held back a chuckle. “You two have a lot in common then?”

Peter’s eyes widened as he gaped at you. “I am nothing like that shmuck. He’s just a tall, not that good looking guy from Earth who needed saved by me.”

“You don’t feel threatened by him at all then?”

“Not in the slightest.”

You hummed, twisting on the last screws in the helmet. “Mhm, so then why have you been making your voice deeper since you got here?”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you when he tripped over his words.

“No! — I have not!” Peter looked at you with defeat and flopped into his chair when you raised an eyebrow at him. “Shut up.”

You looked over your handwork one last time before pressing the botton that collapsed the helmet back into an earpiece. “Good as new.” You tossed it over to him.

Peter caught it with ease, giving it a look over before sliding it into his coat pocket. “You’re the best.”

You pushed yourself off your stool, giving your back a small stretch. “When do I get to meet him then?”

“Who?”

“The new one.”

His eyebrows shot up so fast you thought they were going to lift right up off his head. “Absolutely not, I don’t need to deal with that too.”

“I don’t even get to know his name?”

“Even that would be too much.”

“Pete, I’m gonna have to meet him at some point.”

He shook his head and plugged his ears. “La la, I can’t hear you.”

You let out a low whistle, leaning against your table. “Yeesh, this guy must really be something if he has you worked up this much,” You saw his face get all tense and you held up your hands in surrender. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, boss. I won’t seek him out.”

Peter leaned over the table and plopped a messy kiss on your hairline. “I always knew there was a reason you were my favorite.”

You slapped his arm and grinned. “What’s the deal then, is he like super pretty. Is that why you’re being moody?” You feigned a gasp. “Did Zamora leave you for him?”

He groaned, pushing himself off table and dramatically throwing himself towards the door. “You’re just as bad as Drax, I don’t know why I bother visiting.”

“You take that back right now.”

Peter grinned. “Never meant it in the first place.”

Despite your teasing, you were really happy he was there. It felt like lifetimes since everyone was here on your base. They were the only people you ever really enjoyed seeing. You enjoyed your life alright, but the company and joy the Guardians brought to you was irreplaceable.

You nudged him gently as you walked past him. “I’m only teasing. So, what’s the real reason you stopped by.”

Peter quirked an eyebrow. “Whatever could you mean?”

“You truly expect me to believe you flew 8 parsecs just to have me fix your helmet?”

“It’s a special helmet! Wouldn’t have just anyone fix my crap,” He defended, following you outside. “But you’re not wrong, had some business to take care of back on Earth.”

You stopped walking. “You went back?”

Peter sighed again, something that greatly concerned you. “Long and complicated story, but the jist of it is that our ship got pretty busted and we need your expertise to get back in gear.”

You frowned out at him, he usually didn’t keep much from you. But your best guess was that he had his reasons. “Say no more.”

“I can pay you-“

“Shut it,” You interrupted his sentence, not even letting him entertain the idea of it. “Just tell me what you need.”

Peter knew better than to argue with you. Besides, he had long since become an expert as putting credits into your fund without you realizing it until he too far away to smack over the head.

“So, this new guy,” You said, breaking the silence. “How’d you end up finding him?”

“That‘s also part of the long and complicated story.”

#i just realized this isnt tagged #im really gonna die #thor imagine #thor imagines #thor odinson imagines #thor odison imagine #thor odinson x reader #peter quill imagine #peter quill imagines #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #avenger imagines #avengers imagine #avengers x reader

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ironwebbs · 5 years

Text

Geniuses and Genius Bars

Sorry @iamirondad for taking so long to get to this one. Please enjoy.

AO3 LINK

Tony was giving a speech to the Midtown School of Science and Technology. Naturally Peters excited, until he isn't, and Tony finally meets Flash Thompson.

Peter was excited.

Tony couldn’t understand why, but the kid was all smiles and jittering legs, bumbling at a million miles an hour about how great this was, how this was a historic moment, a life changing event, a once in a lifetime opportunity…

It was just a speech about the different grants and scholarships and work opportunities with stark industries. But for some reason, every damn kid in the school had been hyping it up for weeks, months even.

Including Peter.

Tony just didn’t get it. Peter saw him every week, more than once a week, and they spoke about college and further opportunities all the time? Why was this one insignificant talk to a bunch of teenagers getting him crawling up the walls?

Nonetheless he entertained the kid. Let him ramble and gasp ideas and nonsense about the things Tony could talk about.

“What about the suit Mr. Stark? What if you demonstrated the nanotech? The school would go wild for that! Can you imagine it?” he had laughed. Tony had just rolled his eyes in response, refusing to admit it would be kind of fun to have hundreds of awe-struck nerd kids admire his hard work. If anyone were to appreciate the complexity of nanotech, is was the Midtown school of Science and Technology kids.

“I don’t see the big deal kid, you could watch my TED talks on YouTube if you are such a fan” he teased. This time it was Peters turn to roll his eyes.

“I’m not a fan” he blushed, “It’s just… it’s so amazing what you do. There’re so many kids at the school who are there for their intelligence alone you know? They come from not so great homes, or really struggle financially… this kind of opportunity you’re talking about, it gives hope to those kids… I was one of those kids Mr. Stark” he shrugs his shoulders in a façade of nonchalance, but his excitement is still surface level, gleaming in his eyes.

Tony sometimes forgets his privilege, forgets his brains came with an influence, and never in his youth did he have to think about whether or not he could go to college. It was only how many degrees and doctorates can I get to shove it up Howards ass. He feels pride wash through him at Peters declaration, at the kid’s faith in him, in everyone.

“Plus, means I get a free ride into school so that’s great too” Peter smirks smugly, his cheeky grin pressing at his lips.

Tony mocks a shocked expression, “If you think I’ll allow you to treat me like your uber driver kid, you have another thing coming.”

Peter exaggerates a whine “Common Mr. Stark! The train smells like a sewer! I’ll even give you five stars” he laughs, ducking as Tony ditches the closest rag at his head.

Tony preens at the domesticity, at Peters comfort in the lab environment.

Not for the first time, he vows he would protect that kid with every inch of his life.

“But seriously Mr. Stark, what you do for all those kids in need is pretty awesome, I don’t know if you see what I see, but you’re like the Oprah of the science and tech world” he says with all sincerity. Tony scoffs at the reference to Oprah. He would never be as cool as Oprah.

“Yeah well, someone’s got to keep monitors on all your nerds, who knows what world ending machine you might end up creating” he smiles coyly, reaching out to ruffle the kids unruly hair.

Peter thinks for a moment, Tony can already tell the kids conjuring up dangerous one liner by the glint in his eyes “You mean like Ultron?” he smirks.

Tony drops his jaw “You little shmuck!” he throws another rag, and when Peter ducks away from that he throws a spanner too, groaning as the kid catches it and grins even wider.

“Admit it Mr. Stark! You’re a nerd just like us!” he laughs with glee. Tony shakes his head. “Never young buck. Never. Give me back my spanner, nerd”

“Admit it!”

“Not happening”

“Admit it!”

“Give it back or I’ll call May”

“That’s something a nerd would say” Peter snickers, ducking in anticipation at the look Tony throws him.

“I’ll call myself a nerd, when you admit you’re one of my fangirls.” Tony throws back, raising an eyebrow, hiding his smirk.

Peter huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “You already know I’m a fangirl, Mr. Stark…” he pauses for comedic effect, Tony already knows he’s got another one liner in him “of Ironman, that is. Couldn’t care less about the dude in it” he’s giggling before he’s even finished the sentence.

Tony made a noise of protest before charging at the now running away teen. Peters laughter bounced off the walls, excitement in his mischievous eyes. Tony snags one of Peters web-shooters off the table, grinning in pleasure at Peters haltered step, the widening of his eyes.

“DUM-E” he singsongs, watching as the robot whirred its way happily over to him. Peter eyes grew even wider.

“You wouldn’t” he gasped.

“Oh but I would. DUM-E, you want to check if these are fireproof for me? I know how much you love-“ he’s cut off by a spanner clattering at his feet, Peter following quickly behind.

“Truce! Truce okay! You’re not a nerd, I’m a fangirl, please give them back!” he yelps. Tony taking way too much amusement and pleasure in Peters agony, raises his hand towards DUM-E, web shooter dangling dangerously, watching Peter cringe as the claw moves in on its target.

Waiting a final moment, revelling in Peters puppy dog eyes, he tosses the shooter back, Peter catching it effortlessly with a relieved smile, slipping it back on his wrist.

“Jerk” he laughs, “Nerd” Tony snipes back.

He ruffles the kid’s hair again, just because he can. Peter ducking away and grinning wide. “I probably should head home anyway, getting kinda dark.” Peter smiles, moving to shove his bags back together, leaving his station messy and cluttered. Tony rolled his eyes. Teenagers.

“Need a lift?” He asked, moving to shut down his own station.

“Oh, now you want to be my Uber driver.” Peter smirks, darting out of the way of Tonys attempted head smack. “Yeah keep it up and you can walk on Friday.” Tony puffed.

It was Peters turn to roll his eyes. “You can’t stop me from catching the train Mr. Stark.”

“I can cancel your Metro pass, maybe put you on the teenage deviants watch list. Would love to see you try outrun those guards during peak”

Peter winces, “Fine, you are the best mentor, I owe you my life, please pick me up at 7” he rushes out the door before Tony can protest, not that he would. Tony can hear his giddy laughter all the way down the corridor, can almost see the skip in his step.

Which is why it is so wrong when he picks the kid up, three days later, and Peter looks like he wishes he was anywhere else.

The teen sits slumped in the passenger seat, eyes downcast, lip pulled between his teeth. A nervous trait that Tony had noticed he did when he was stressed. Not just stressed, but stressed.

“What’s up kiddo? You not feeling too good?” He asks, trying to swallow the excitement he himself had been feeling on the drive over. He thought Peter would be the same, vibrating with energy like he had been in the lab. Now Peter’s a shell of that kid, worried and jittery. Not the good kind.

Peter shakes his head, he goes to respond, but his phone pings, taking his attention for a moment. Tony sees as the kids face scrunches up, jaw clenched, before he tosses his phone carelessly back into his back pack and slumps back again with a sigh.

“Seriously Pete, spill. What’s on your mind? I thought you would have your head out of the sunroof by now” The joke doesn’t even register on Peters glum face.

“I’m just not feeling it today.” He replies softly. Tony frowns. “Is it something at school?” Maybe the workload was building up again, or the decathlon team… he had practice for that yesterday afternoon, maybe something had happened there. “Something like that” he gets in a mumbled response.

Peter kept his eyes glued out the window. Not bothering to engage in any more conversation. Tony frowned harder, nervously tapping at the wheel. Had he done something to upset Peter? Was there something he had forgotten?

He’s about to ask, when Peter cuts in quietly. “Could you please drop me off here?” Tony looked at where Peter was referring, confused. “Pete we are still three blocks away? I can drop you off closer?” but Peter shook his head determinedly, already pulling up his bag and reaching for the handle. Unsure of what to do, Tony pulled over, allowing the teen to jump up and scatter over to the side walk, quick to blend in with the other pedestrians.

It took Tony a few more seconds to remember to drive, his heart sinking as he watched Peter get smaller and smaller in his rear-view mirror. Should he have stopped him? Should he go back?

Surely this was just another teenager thing, embarrassment about their parent dropping them off… not that Tony was a parent, definitely not. Unless Peter wanted him to be.

But this was behaviour Tony hadn’t seen before. This was more subdued than he had experienced. And he had experienced a lot.

Trying to shake of the unnerving feeling, he pulled into the staff parking lot, ensuring he was tucked away, not wanting to risk some kids vandalising the paint. He gathered his thoughts, finding them continuously running back to his sad kid, mentee.

He slipped through the staff entry, greeting the flustered star struck admin team, gracefully allowing them to guide him into the teachers common room. All heads shot up, some more awe struck than others. Here we go he thought dimly. Time to work the crowd.

He plastered on his best paparazzi smile, allowing all the questions, how many scholarships are you giving away, what kind of talent are you looking for, are there any job prospects, we have a robotics competition coming up would you be free to judge? Tony smirked, Peter would definitely be entering in that competition. And he would win. No son of his No protégé of his would lose that.

Surprisingly, no one asked him about Peter. He was sure those kinds of questions would come, given one of their students had scored the only high school interning position that had ever existed in the history of Stark Industries. He had made the title official (name badge and all) at the beginning of the year, telling Peter that it had nothing to do with Spiderman, and everything to do with his genuine intelligence and promising future in the industry. Peter had taken a while to properly accept, worried he was taking the opportunity away from someone more deserving. Tony had scoffed. As if that person existed.

He was about to ask his own set of questions, wanted to hear just how good his Peter was doing, even though he already knew the kid was the best, but one the teachers took his arm and informed him the students were all seated in the main hall and ready for his address.

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes at not only his lost opportunity to hype up Peter, but also at the woman’s clear excitement to escort Tony to the floor, he lets himself be led, fighting the need to pull away and walk himself. He didn’t want to be a douchebag here. He needed to be on his best behaviour for Peter.

The cohort erupts into screams and booming clapping as he steps onto stage, his smile half genuine, half reflex from his decades of practice. He begins the spiel, the one Pepper wrote, the one he promised not to deviate from. He seeks Peter out quickly, hoping to see that excitement.

He doesn’t.

Peters eyes are mostly downcast, focus on his shoelaces. He can see Peters friend, Ned, beside the teen, looking excited like the other kids, but constantly throwing worried glances to Peter.

Tony tries not to let it bother him now. It could bother him later, when he could give Peter his full attention and get to the bottom of what was making him so upset. Right now he had to focus on the speech.

He finished up with an inspirational quote, not as great as his usual go break some eggs, but age appropriate and obviously affective with the way the students were standing to clap and cheer, loud excited chatter erupting amongst them all. Peter had been right, these kids were ecstatic.

The woman that had led him over before stood back on stage, moving to the microphone to settle the group. “Mr. Stark has been kind enough to allow questions today. Remember your manners, and only appropriate questions.” She warned. Tony didn’t want to answer questions. He had forgotten that this was a part of the package. He wanted to scoop Peter up and drive him to the nearest parlour and fill his sad stomach with every ice-cream flavour available.

The questions start immediately, Would the scholarship guarantee a job at Stark Industries, When would the winners be announced, Would he announce any more scholarships during the year, Did he have his suit? He laughed at the last question, eyes catching Peters, hoping the kid would share the amusement. But Peter was still looking down, not listening.

It hurt, just a little bit.

A kid stands up confidently. He hadn’t had his hand raised, and he hadn’t been chosen to ask, but he was standing anyway, his face coiled like a snake with a grin. Entitled brat, Tony thought immediately. But then he saw Peter shrink even further, and his confusion was quickly turning to anger. He didn’t know why, but this kid was trouble.

“Mr. Stark. There’s something I think you should know. I respect you enough to give you this information, for the sake of your reputation.” The boy started. There were sniggers, some turned laughter around the proud teenager. Some teachers begun to throw some worried looks between each other, even the woman from earlier ready to step in. “Okay… and what might that be?” Tony asked cautiously, unbothered that it came out with a little bite.

The teen, unfazed, continued, smile plastered on his face now. “There is a student here, that is going around and spreading horrible lies about you, which is frankly just sad, but he has been claiming to work for you, which, as I’m sure you can agree is preposterous.” A teacher steps forward, looking to intervene, but Tony stops her with a hand.

“And who might that be?” he asked. What kid was making things up? Were they trying to compete with Peter? Was this douchebag actually telling the truth? Either way, this teenager was a bully, so he knew he was going to have to approach this differently than he would with adults. There was no need to put another student down for wanting to work with him.

The teens smirk grew even more menacing, the laughter of the classmates rising. He reached down and came back up with a handful of blue sweater.

Attached to Peter Parker.

Tony lost his ability to speak. A thousand thoughts rushed through his head at once. But he quickly realised what was going on. Tony was that kid the bullies held up and refused to believe a word that came out of his mouth when he was in high school. These students didn’t believe Peters internship. Which would assume the teachers didn’t either, given their staff room behaviour.

“Mr. Stark meet Peter Parker. Now as I’m sure you are just as mortified as the rest of us, that this subpar student thinks he could score a position alongside you, let alone as a janitor for your catering staff” the class laughed louder, Tony could see Peter cheeks swell red with humiliation, eyes downcast but surely full of tears.

Hot burning rage filled in Tony’s gut. This teenager. This prick was humiliating his kid.

“So, I’m giving you the opportunity to set the record straight, and I should hope, put in place a punishment for this act of fraud and deceit.” The smartass concluded. He pushed Peter forward, and hard. Unexpected apparently, because Peter went sailing to the floor, hitting it with a loud thud. The crowd burst into laughter, only softening with the teachers mortified shushing.

At a loss and in a pit of rage, Tony was almost speechless. The prick hurt his kid.

The prick was going to die.

The teacher rushed to the microphone. “Flash Thompson! Enough, you sit down right this instant” she hissed. Tony took that moment to pull his phone out, blood boiling, hands shaking.

“Eugene, was it?” He asked loudly. The crowd was silent now, the teenager still standing, smug as ever. Peter was moving to sit back down, but Flash was quicker, grabbing the sullen teens forearm and wrenching him back beside him.

“That’s right Mr. Stark.” He said proudly, probably ready to receive his praise. He was going to receive something alright.

“Interesting, Oh here we go” he smirked. The projectors on either side of the room flickered on, Tony quick to bring up the assholes files. At least that got him paling.

“Oh look at that, GPA of only 3, that’s disappointing isn’t it. Won’t be able to apply for my scholarships” he laughed humourlessly. The teenager had the audacity to make a noise of protest, but Tony got in first.

“Oh my, look at this, a C in Physics? That must be hard for you. Can’t get into those Ivy league schools with a C can we?” He was carelessly letting the sarcasm roll in. The teachers look antsy, he has no care for them.

“And look what we have here! Intern applications Mr. Thompson! What do you have to offer, I wonder”

“That’s private!” the teen interjects hysterically. Eyes looking for support from other staff members.

“Not that private apparently. Oh my, are we really going around and calling ourselves a genius? I think that’s far from the truth. And here you are talking about fraud and deceit”

“You want to see a real genius Mr. Thompson?” he drops his voice lower, anger slipping in hard. He fiddles with his phone, the projection quickly changing to the next profile.

Peters.

“Perfect GPA, Perfect candidate for all the scholarships, and you know what else he has?” He waits to see Flash’s face tense. “He has an internship at Stark Industries as my mentee. You know why he has that? I’ll tell you, I’m sure it would be too hard for you to work out anyway. Because he is intelligent, he is respectful, and he is a damn good kid.” He spits.

The room is shocked into silence. Peters head has lifted, a blush on his cheeks.

“The only time you will call yourself a genius will be at the genius bar of Apple” he snarls. The teenager looks furious, entitled and obviously not used to being the butt of the joke.

Tony cuts him off before he can protest, “Peter will go on to be one of the greatest minds of your generation, and you only ever be good enough to work as the salesman for his products.”

There’s a lot of slack jaws in the audience. Even Peters.

He said what he has to say, and now he was through. “If any of you have any questions about Peters internship, you come through me.” He presses one of his smiles for good measure before storming off the stage, leaving the dumfounded crowd behind.

They were laughing at Peter. They were hurting him. Peter was upset because his peers couldn’t see how fantastic he was. Were they blind?

The teachers try to gush apologies, try to assure him that discipline will take place, that they don’t stand that behaviour. But he just scoffs, and leaves as soon as he can, jumping into his car and resisting the need to slam his hand into the wheel.

He grabs his phone, shooting a message off quickly to Peter.

TS: Do you want to take the rest of the day off?

He would, if he were Peter. But Peters better than him, always has been.

PP: No thanks.

And that’s all he gets. Nothing else. Nada. Zilch.

He drives away feeling even worse. Had he aggravated the problem? Did he go too far? Was Peter mad at him now?

His head was in shambles, both pleased that he was able to set the record straight, and maybe avoid Peter getting bullied, but then Peters being bullied? How had he not known? And given the amount of students laughing at Peter, and not shocked at one bullies behaviour, it was happening a lot. And then he was stuck thinking he had made it even worse. He doesn’t even realise he’s been pacing the lab for hours, unproductive and fulminated.

At least today was Friday, which meant Peter was coming over after school anyway. They could sort this out. Tony could get his answers.

But when the clock his 4.00, and Peter still hasn’t come through those doors, he starts to lose hope that the kids not angry with him. That the he was still coming for lab.

Tony slumps into his work chair, grouchy and fired up. Should he write a letter to the school about their anti-bullying schemes? Should he employ that Eugene kid to publicly fire him?

Should he mind his own business?

He’s torn from his thoughts as he hears the ding of the elevator, the familiar pads of steps approaching the lab doors. He throws a glance to the clock above the wall, frowning at the hour, past 5.00pm. Not enough time for Peter to have been on patrol, and he had no extra-curricular after school, which means either the kid was avoiding him or…

One look at his face gives him the affirmation of the alternative.

He chokes as he shoots up, rushing over to the downcast teenager. “Peter, Jesus Christ, your face”

Peters face was an array of colours, from the smears of blood, to the dark blue above his cheek, the purpling around his jaw, and the vacant black of his hazel eyes.

“Was this that Flash? Did he do this?” he growls, stepping closer to the dejected kid, still standing in the doorway. Peter looks up, Tony can see the tell-tale tear tracks that had once rolled down his ruddy cheeks.

“Why did you do that?” Peter asks quietly, almost inaudible. Tony stops in his tracks, wary of moving even closer, despite the magnet drawing him in hard. He recognises the emotions on Peters face, he knows they mean stay back. So he does.

“Pete, I didn’t mean for you to be” he gestures openly to the bruises and the bleeding.

“You didn’t need to be so mean.” He mutters, dropping his back pack to the floor. He remains in the doorway, unsure of himself, eye brows creased and tense.

“Didn’t have to be so mean? Kid, that boy was humiliating you! He pushed you! I could have been a whole lot worse” a sudden rage coils in his gut again. Be it him remembering the debacle, or his own entitled persona clawing its way to the surface, furious at the lack of gratitude. “You are going to explain yourself mister. How long has this been going on?” He crosses his arms, eyes hard and stern. He hopped that was enough to get through to the resisting teenager.

“Long enough for me to be able to handle this on my own” Peter responds defiantly, jaw set and eyes down.

“Can you stop being a goddamn saint for five seconds Peter! Jesus Christ. You don’t have to put yourself through a meat grinder just because you have superpowers you idiot!” He hates that he’s yelling. He hates himself so much. But Peter was hurt, and Peter needed to hear this.

Peter tenses harder, he turns his face up, staring Tony down. “That’s not why. These kinds of groups want to hurt someone! If they hurt me, I heal. Do you understand? I heal. The other kids? Not so lucky. So yeah, I go through a meat grinder but that’s my choice. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”

Tony blanches. Self-sacrificing idiot teenager.

“Yeah you really looked like you could handle yourself out there today. Really great show Parker” he scoffs. His hands itch to wipe the blood off the boys temple, to hold him close.

“Why do you care? What I do at school shouldn’t matter to you” he shot back, cheeks reddening with the shame of todays events.

“Why do I care? Dammit Peter, of course I care. You’re goddamn brilliant, you’re better than every single person in that damn school, not just in your genius, but everything. Jesus, even the last words out of your mouth you’re putting yourself last. Those kids don’t deserve to stand next to you, leave alone belittle you” he blew out a frustrated breath of air before continuing.

“I was that kid Pete. I was the kid who was different. I was 3 years younger than everyone in my class, I was the son of a billionaire, I was a smartass. Came home every day with a new bruise or a split lip, and I was told to toughen up. To fend for myself. Do you know how much I wished for once someone else would stand up for me? Someone else to kick those assholes in the balls” Peter huffed out a hesitant laugh, Tony joining in.

“What I’m trying to say kiddo, you’re not alone. You don’t have to fight this one on your own okay? Bullies are bullies. Their hits hurt, and their words hurt even more. That doesn’t mean you have to endure them so someone else doesn’t. That means you get to be the hero and stop them from hurting someone when you’re not around to be their punching bag.”

Peter slumped visibly. “I just, I was so excited about today, and they ruined it. They made me feel so embarrassed Mr. Stark. I preferred the afterschool special over that auditorium.”

Tony nodded in understanding. The humiliation was always worse than the shoves. “I’m sorry I went overboard. It just makes me so mad that people don’t see what I see. They don’t see how damn great you are.” Tony closes his eyes. Startled when he finds himself suddenly with an arm full of teenager.

Peter clings to him tightly, Tonys arms wrapping around the smaller boy just as tight. “I’m sorry too. I was embarrassed” Peter mumbles into Tonys shirt. Tony nods, enough for Peter to be able to feel the movement.

“But did it make you feel a little bit better when that dweeb got, what do you kids say, dragged?” He can feel Peters full body cringe, “oh my god” the kid groans.

Tonys just happy to feel the imprint of the smile. “It was pretty funny” Peter laughs breathily. Tony chuckles, “His face was so shocked. I think he thought I was going to thank him and offer him the internship. Dumbass”

Peter laughs again, it’s louder now. Tony pushes the boy out of his arms, taking in his battered face. “Can we clean this up now? And then have a nice long chat about round two tomorrow when I drag that tool by his manicured nails?” Tony smirks, watching as Peter winced. “We’ll talk about it” the teenager pleads.

Tony takes pity, wrapping and arm around the boys shoulder, leading them both out and towards the kitchen where his first aid kit was stored. And his chocolate. This felt like one of those occasions.

“I’d understand. If you had to deny it though” Peter says softly after a moment of silence.

Tony frowns confused. “Deny what?”

Peter sighs sadly. “I know I’m just a poor orphan kid from Queens. If you needed to deny our internship for the image, I’d understand.”

Tony swings them around so fast Peter almost loses his balance. He stands in front of the kid, hands on his shoulders, ducking to force the eye contact.

“Peter. Listen to me. I will never be ashamed of you. Kid, in a couple of years I won’t be ‘Tony Stark’, anymore. I’ll be Peter Parkers first mentor. You are going to rewrite the history books. I know it. I’ll eventually be a small detail in your biography of the greatest minds of the century. And you know what? I’m going to be a proud parent watching from the sidelines, cheering you on every step of the way. Nothing would ever make me prouder of you Peter Parker.”

Peters eyes are filling with tears, Tony doesn’t think they are ready for crying in front of each other just yet, so he turns on his heel again, pulling the dumbstruck kid towards the kitchen counter.

Peter wipes his swollen eyes when he thinks Tony isn’t looking, hissing as Tony begins to dab away at the open cuts.

The kid looks lost in thought, deep in his own mind. Tony decides to pull him out before he gets too down. “Want to tell me what that big brain of yours is thinking right about now?”

Peter thinks for a second more, face curling into a semblance of a smirk.

“I wouldn’t have taken you to knowing the Apple customer service positions” he grins,

“unless you were a nerd.”

#irondad #prompt fill #elephreak #tw: bullying

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