Tumgik
#starker: hurt/comfort
lanyakea-universe · 5 months
Text
Post battle tragedy
AI generated
Tumblr media
255 notes · View notes
starker-sorbet · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Peter and Tony cooking a meal together for a romantic night in only for Tony to accidentally rub chilli pepper into his eyes putting the night temporarily on hold while Peter helps to wash out his eyes and cuddle him afterwards
@fluffbruary 2024 day 21 : photography | pepper | truffles
46 notes · View notes
deezbrothersgay · 1 year
Text
I need a story about Tony fuckin Stark crying his eyes out because of Peter. I don't care why-- because of an argument, or because Peter got hurt or left suddenly or something, I NEED. THE MAN. TO CRY. And then get comfort from none other than Spidey.
91 notes · View notes
lotusthewriter · 2 years
Text
You keep me searching for a heart of gold
Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: T
Relationships: Peter & Tony
Characters: Peter Parker, Howard Stark, Tony Stark, Maria Stark
Summary: Peter is having breakfast when an unexpected visit arrives. AU where Howard and Maria are alive.
Word count: 2.600
AO3 / Fanfiction
A/N: I’ve seen a lot of Peter as Tony’s biological kid meeting Howard and Maria, but never one where Peter isn’t related to Tony yet they’re still close like father and son. I decided to play around with it, then.
Of course, I don’t know how to write Howard (or Maria), so I hope this is good enough.
TRIGGER WARNINGS - past child abuse, alcohol abuse/alcoholism and swearing
DO NOT SHIP PETER AND TONY.
--
It’s a slow day at the Compound.
Peter has stayed the night, and will likely stay a few more days, with May out of town. He knows he’s grown up and wouldn’t have a problem fending off for himself, but he wasn’t against the idea of staying with Tony when they suggested, not when Peter really hates being alone for too long. It’s good that Peter gets to be spoiled by Tony, even if he would never in a million years admit it to anyone.
Tony is probably in a meeting or something like it since Peter arrives at the kitchen with a set breakfast table, and a little sticky note telling him “be back at 12”. It’s around 10 AM right now, so that would take a while.
He yawns dramatically, aware he must look like a mess right now, and he sure is hungry. Peter takes the cereal box and puts some in the bowl, later filling it with milk, all the while looking at his phone. It’s a good thing he doesn’t have school today, as it’s spring break. Ned is throwing a lot of questions at him, knowing Peter is at the Compound, so of course his best friend is excited to know he’s “hanging out with The Tony Stark”. Well, not exactly now, but still true.
Peter is laughing at some memes while chewing on cereal, when his senses detect a presence. He almost assumes it’s Tony, hopefully coming back earlier, but then… he realizes it’s actually two presences, unlike any he knows. He also hears some frantic talking, coming from a woman’s voice.
“… Howard, you can’t just enter like this!”
“I’m his father, I have the right to be here as I want—”
Before Peter can really do anything, the automatic door opens to a senior couple right when he’s chewing a handful of cereal and milk, and the three are staring at one another like they’re in a sitcom and the audience is bursting in laughter. They’re… well, not horrified. The woman is shocked, while the man is… disgusted? Suspicious?
And there’s something about him, too. Something… familiar.
Howard…
WAIT.
The Howard Stark?
Peter almost chokes on the cereal and milk, swallowing it all in one go. Thank goodness he has enhanced metabolism.
“What on earth is this?” Howard looks at this wife – Maria, if Peter isn’t mistaken (after all, he’s read Tony’s biography quite too many times for the average person) –, expecting an answer from her, but she only replies with surprised silence.
“Uh…” Peter clears his throat. “You’re… Mr. Stark’s parents?”
Howard raises an eyebrow. “Who’s asking?”
The teenager stands up and approaches, raising a hand.
“I’m Peter. Parker.”
Howard stares at his hand with distaste, then he’s judging Peter’s appearance up and down. Now the latter feels extremely self-conscious and more embarrassed than ever.
The man doesn’t bother shaking his hand, though Maria does so for him.
“Maria,” she whispers, though not seeming very welcoming of Peter, either.
“So, he refuses to speak to me all these years… I understand now.” Howard shakes his head in disapproval, then he mumbles to his wife, “I told you, one of these days Anthony was going to get a poor girl with a full plate.”
Peter’s cheeks heat up like a stove.
“O-Oh no, no, no, I’m not…”
“What? Speak up, boy.”
“I’m…” Peter looks down, finding his Iron Man socks. “I’m not related to Mr. Stark, sir.”
“Then why are you here, on your pajamas, like this is your house?”
Peter is redder than a tomato, unable to look at Howard in the eye. He almost wants to argue that the Compound isn’t his house, either, but he figures it’s useless to pick up a fight with Tony’s father.
“It’s… complicated?” He replies, aware that explaining to them that he’s a superhero wouldn’t be the best idea.
Maria looks at Howard with confusion and concern, while the man suddenly laughs. Peter almost wishes he stayed in bed.
“I don’t believe this. Is he taking in random kids for charity?” Howard asks, but doesn’t expect an answer, because he just keeps laughing.
“Well, uh… Mr. Stark is busy right now, if you want something until he comes back—”
“Who do you think you are, boy?” Howard is immediately dead serious. “You said yourself you’re not even a Stark. I doubt you’re a special intern.”
Peter gulps. He knew very little about the elder Stark, besides what media tells him, and that time Tony said that his father had never given him support. Peter already suspected Howard wasn’t the best, but he never expected it to be this bad.
He can only imagine what it must’ve been like for Tony growing up.
“I-I said it’s complicated—”
“No one is going to take you seriously mumbling like a little mouse.”
“Listen, just… make yourselves at home, it’s going to take a while for Mr. Stark to be back.”
Howard scoffs. “Make yourselves at home,” he mocks his voice.
“Howard,” Maria scolds.
Peter swallows the urge to scream for Tony to get here as soon as possible, knowing he must be very busy.
“You probably have business with Mr. Stark, so I’ll just… go to my room.”
“Oh, no, come on, Mr. Parker. Enlighten us.”
He doesn’t have to obey him, sure, but this is Tony’s father, and Peter is far from a jerk, even if he wants to. Even if Howard doesn’t deserve any kindness for how he’s acting.
“Actually,” Howard is sitting in one of the chairs while Maria watches, looking down like she’s ashamed, “since you’re being so nice, Mr. Parker, would you care to see what drinks you have in store?”
Peter is stuck in this mess, so he does what he’s told, going quickly with it, too.
“Well, there’s nothing much… only water, coffee…”
Even while not looking, he’s aware Howard is rolling his eyes. “I know Anthony. There must be alcohol somewhere in this place.”
The boy searches in the cabinets, indeed finding a bottle of scotch.
“Ah, there it is,” Howard speaks from afar. “With ice, please.”
Peter tries his hardest not to groan out of his mind, instead taking a few ice cubes and handing the glass to the man. Maria doesn’t sit, only stands on her feet next to her husband. He’s on the other side of where Peter was sitting, and the boy is back with his breakfast. He suddenly doesn’t feel hungry anymore, but he still eats out of politeness.
His once peaceful breakfast is now the most uncomfortable he’s even been stuck in, and he can sense Howard watching his every move. Peter doesn’t dare look up and finishes the bowl of cereal quietly. It’s all mushy now, so it’s not even pleasant anymore, and he feels like throwing up.
“You know, Peter,” Howard says derogatorily, “I’m very curious. If you’re not a Stark or an intern, what’s your relationship with my son?” He doesn’t take his eyes off Peter while he takes the bottle of scotch and fills his glass again.
Peter inhales, not sighing, knowing that wouldn’t be the best reaction. “It’s—”
“Complicated?” Howard mocks him again. “Don’t bullshit me, boy.”
“Howard,” Maria tries again, but she doesn’t go beyond the occasional scold.
“I know Tony, and I know he would never give a flying crap about having a sleep over with a random child.”
Peter’s fists tighten under the table. He’s trying, but then…
“… you’re wrong.”
The tenseness spike up immediately.
“Excuse me?”
The teen finally stares back.
“Mr. Stark is my—” Peter sighs, “He takes care of me, okay? He’s the nicest person I know, the greatest hero, and he- he cares about me.”
Howard’s eyes narrow with hatred.
“You seriously think that Tony Stark would ever go out of his way to take care of a little brat like you?” He scoffs. “I doubt it. He probably pities you.”
Peter’s firmness is gone within the blink of an eye.
“He… He does like me,” he tries, only for Howard to laugh again.
“You’re not even sure about it, are you?”
Sure, he has anxiety, but…
“If you think Anthony would ever want anything to do with you, you could not be more wrong,” Howard is serious again. “You are not his son, you are not worthy of being a Stark, because Stark men are made of iron, and you… are far from it.”
He wants that awful, terrible man to be wrong, but Peter finds himself unable to fight back. Maria doesn’t even try to defend him; she barely acknowledges his presence.
The moment Peter stands up, the door is opening again, and someone is not pleased.
“What the hell are you doing in here?”
That voice… doesn’t bring him safety anymore.
Peter doesn’t even look back.
He runs away.
“Peter-!”
The door is closed, hard.
And… he cries, after holding it for so long.
  “What did you do to him?”
“Really, Anthony, this is low, even for you.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what is low or not.”
“I’m your father, show me some respect.”
Tony grits his teeth, suppressing the urge to invoke his repulsors.
“So, I arrive here, and I find this kid in pajamas who thinks it’s his house, claiming that ‘Mr. Stark’ clearly cares about him.” Howard mocks Peter’s voice, and is about to take another glass of scotch, only for Tony to take the bottle away from him, because he knows what’s about to happen if he keeps drinking. “Do you really expect me to believe you’ve been adopting random kids just to fulfill your pathetic life?”
“You don’t get to say anything about Peter.”
Howard laughs, “Oh, so it’s true. You do care about him.” He spits on the floor. “You’ve become soft, Anthony. I wonder who taught you.”
“Certainly not you.”
“Of course. I would never let my son adopt some sissy.”
Tony inhales like his head is on fire, letting out smoke like in an old cartoon.
“You have three seconds to get your sorry ass out of here before I call security.”
“Oh, so soon?”
“Don’t fucking test me, Howard.”
The old man rolls his eyes dramatically and raises his hands like Tony is pointing a gun at him. Of course, like the “victim” he claims to be.
“Alright, fine. Go be with your precious little Peter. So much for wasted time.”
Tony glares at Howard standing up, Maria following him. She only glances at her son without saying a word. It’s been this way for as long as he remembers that Tony is barely fazed by it.
The two finally leave the kitchen.
“FRI, make sure they’re out of here as quickly as possible,” Tony orders.
“Got it, Boss.”
He groans out loud. The meeting was already a pain in the ass, when he suddenly learned that his sorry excuse of a father was in the building it almost gave him a heart attack. It was especially worse when he learned he was in the same room as Peter. God, he almost wants Howard to be here just to punch him in the face.
Well, there’s no time for that. His kid needs him.
Tony makes his way to the dark corridor, walking up to the closed door in the back. He knocks on it a couple times.
“Peter?”
There’s no answer.
“Peter, I’m coming in.”
Thankfully, the door isn’t locked. Tony is slow with it, not wanting to scare off the kid.
Peter is lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He has headphones covering his ears, and although it’s mostly dark, Tony can tell he’s been crying. His heart breaks hearing the weak sniff coming from the boy.
Tony presses his fingers against his tired eyes, trying to suppress the anger at Howard so he can help Peter. Then, he takes a few gentle steps towards the bed and sits on the corner. Peter refuses to look at him. He’s not sure if he’s even listening.
That way, the man reaches for his hand, squeezing it carefully, but ready to stop if Peter doesn’t want it. The kid doesn’t reject the contact. If anything, he seems to relax, sinking in his bed.
For once, Peter takes off his headphones, but he doesn’t say anything.
“… He’s gone, okay?” Tony reassures him. “I’ll make sure he never gets in here again.”
The kid doesn’t open his mouth. Tony sighs, like he’s been carrying the weight of the world.
“Oh, Pete… what did he do to you?”
Peter sniffs, “N-Nothing, Mr. Stark.”
Tony doesn’t get mad at the lie. He can’t blame the kid.
“Peter… please, look at me.”
Like he’s afraid – afraid of Tony –, Peter is hesitant, but he complies. It hurts Tony just to imagine him ever being scared of him.
“Talk to me, kiddo,” the hero begs. “He hurt you. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen ever again, but you’ve got to tell me what he did.”
Peter dries his tears with his sleeve, the MIT hoodie Tony lent to him.
“H-He…” the kid sobs. “He said I’m not…”
Tony doesn’t let go of his hand, caressing it with his thumb. The more they stare at one another, Peter’s lips quiver.
“H-He said I’m not your son.”
Oh.
At his stunned silence, Peter cries harder.
“Peter—”
“I mean, I-I get it, he’s right, I’m not your son, I’m not even a Stark, I’m just some- some brat—”
“No, no, nononono. Kid. Peter. Listen to me.”
“I-It’s okay, Mr. Stark, I get it—”
“Shh… Shhhh…”
Tony is wrapping his arms around Peter, and even though the latter tries to deflect, he ultimately lets it.
“You’re not a brat. You’re my kid,” the man tells him. “You are my son.”
“But I’m not a—”
“You don’t have to be a Stark to be my son. If anything, I’m glad you aren’t a Stark. You’re even better, you’re Peter Benjamin Parker, and you’re the most wonderful kid the world has ever known.”
Peter is hiding in Tony’s chest, shyly clinging to him.
“Y-You don’t… pity me?” The kid asks.
“Of course not, kiddo. I love you.”
He immediately faces puppy eyes staring deep into his soul.
“Really?”
“Kid, I could never lie to you, even if I tried.” Tony is pushing that one rebellious hair strand out of Peter’s face. He’s so adorable, he wants to squish him. “Why do you think I like pampering you so much?”
He can tell Peter is blushing. “I dunno.”
Tony laughs, but he’s soon guilty.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner,” he squeezes Peter like he’s going to get hurt if he lets go. “If I’d known…”
“It’s okay, Tony. He just came barging in where he’s not welcome.”
“Yeah. God, I want to kick his ass.”
“Oh, me too.”
Peter has finally stopped crying and has pretty much melted in the hug. They stay like this for a little longer, when Tony has an idea.
“… how about we get you some nice breakfast, hm?” He suggests.
Peter snorts, “At this point it’s gonna be brunch.”
“Still, you’d better eat more than just cereal. You know, with your spider metabolism.”
“Okay, can’t argue with that.”
Tony pats his back and finally lets go, and they get ready for another adventure. The scotch and pain and resentment are left behind, and the two are going to town, ordering any breakfast Peter could possibly want.
He’s glad he’s able to break the cycle of shame. He’ll forever let Peter know how much he loves him, and hopefully, convince himself that he’s loved, too.
64 notes · View notes
peterstrk · 1 year
Text
Idk what it is maybe it’s just start of some hurt/comfort or angst drabble. I was just so bored and listened to “Narcissus”by Paris Paloma and this was my inspiration. Anyways.
Starker.
Tony and Peter were dating secretly almost 7 months now. And Peter starts pondering that Tony is ashamed of him. Yes,Tony has his own reasons to keeping it secret and at first he even agreed with them but now when they are dating secretly almost a year and he doesn’t see any hint of it changing. He is frustrated, he loves Tony and he thought that this is mutual but now he is not quite sure. At first they agreed to keep it slow and reveal their relationships after some time, they did it to spend time with each other a bit more and don’t be interrupted by others. Now Peter thinks that maybe all of it was his delusions and Tony didn’t even wanted to date at first place and did it only cause of pity ugh it’s awful. Peter shouldn’t have to confess his feelings for Mr Stark, he could’ve live without their relationships but he could not live without Mr Stark in his live. And now he is sitting in the lab all alone, he was waiting for Tony to came because today is their usual lab day. But Tony haven’t shown up yet.
-Friday,where is Mr..i mean Tony?- he quire and was surprised by how evenly his voice sounded as if he is not in distress now
-Boss is not available now, I’m sorry Peter.- responded her robotic voice and if he doesn’t know better he would say that she was sorry for him.
_ Oh.. hm it’s..it’s ok Fri, I’m just gonna.. I’m.. yes yes I’m gonna go..-he responded briefly with faint voice.
Peter was on his way out of lab, he didn’t see why he should be here…it’s not like the owner itself would care to show up. Suddenly he stopped. His face were pale, and picture of pain were painted on his pretty face features. He opened and closed his mouth as if he had something to say…finally words came out of his mouth.
-Fri, can u maybe record my words and share them with Ton…Mr Stark?- he sounded unsure but persistent.
-Of course, Peter. What would you like me to convey?- she somehow managed to sound softer.
-Khm..yes uhm Hi Ton..Mr Stark, I know u don’t want to be in relationships anymore and..and it’s totally fine. Who even would want to date the guy like me? the nobody from Quince?..-last words he muttered mostly to himself than to anybody else. But sensitive trackers of Friday caught all of it.
-And I’m so so sorry that you had to endure me and my silly delusions..I was so deep into you almost too deep that I even didn’t notice that you don’t want me here..and maybe never did. And I know that you wouldn’t laugh at me you are too good to laugh, but Mr Stark maybe I would prefer this above being pitied. Mr Stark I..I will try to get over of my stupid feelings I promise but please please don’t… don’t leave my life. I wouldn’t… couldn’t do it without you Mr Stark. -he finished his monologue in tearing voice and left the lab attempting to hold his tears back but without succeeding in it.
Tony was busy today Pepper just could not left his side at least for a moment the number of meetings he attended are getting ridiculous...And not he is not exaggerating just ask Friday. He thinks that he must have been forgotten something he frowned. Tony has this awful feeling in his gut that he has everytime he forgets something important. He wonders whatever it might be? Ugh he just couldn't remember. Huh maybe it is something that will help him to get rid of the meetings for a while? -Friday babe tell me that u have something to help me escape this charade!-he pleaded. -Maybe your usual laboratory days, with shall i remind you, your boyfriend might be relevant reason boss?-her respond was cold as winters in the Alaska. Suddenly Tonys breath catches and millions of thoughts going through his mind but the most coherent was "Oh, i did it again i am sorry Peter" and he was but he was also smart enough, they called him genius for a reason, to understand that being sorry won't help him this time. -Fri, is Peter still in lab?- he quire with sigh when he finally exhales already thinking about the ways to get up to his boyfriend. -No, he is not but he left you a message should i play you this boss?-she sounded even more cold and distant now but Tony knows that he has only himself to blame at the end it was his idea to build her and he knows that he screwed everything with Pete now. -Sure Fri, go ahead- he told as he was leading his way towards his lab. -Khm..yes uhm Hi Ton..Mr Stark, I know u don’t want to be in relationships anymore and..and it’s totally fine. Who even would want to date the guy like me? the nobody from Quince?..- What did he mean that Tony doesn't want to be in relationships anymore? It is not true and his heart is aching to hear so much pain in voice of his boyfriend and more painful is that he caused it. Peter being just ordinary guy from Quince is not true either Pete should have known that he is incredible and Tony is lucky that he can call Peter his boyfriend. Tony knew that he will screw up this relationship too that's why he was hesitant to get into this at first place ugh he should've talked with Peter but talking about feelings is not his strongest ability. - And I’m so so sorry that you had to endure me and my silly delusions..I was so deep into you almost too deep that I even didn’t notice that you don’t want me here..and maybe never did. And I know that you wouldn’t laugh at me you are too good to laugh, but Mr Stark maybe I would prefer this above being pitied. Mr Stark I..I will try to get over of my stupid feelings I promise but please please don’t… don’t leave my life. I wouldn’t… couldn’t do it without you Mr Stark.- "Oh, Peter" was Tony's first thought when he heard the whole monologue
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
P.s English is not my first language, and it’s my first attempt in writing so please don’t be too harsh!)
18 notes · View notes
babybatscreationsv2 · 2 years
Text
The Scent of His Cologne Ch1
Marvel | Starker
When Peter was twelve years old he ran away from home. If only he would have known that he wouldn't see his father again for eight years. Now he's broke, living in an apartment the size of a closet and working three jobs to get by. When he meets a handsome stranger at his weekend job he thinks his luck might finally be starting to turn. 
Rating: Explicit
Warnings below the cut
Warnings and tags: incest/incest kink, daddy kink, prostitution, mafia au, violence, murder, torture, hurt/comfort, angst but with an eventual happy ending
It was raining. He had been standing there, in the alley, for so long that the rain had soaked through his clothes, but that wasn't the reason he trembled.
Peter Stark, first and only son of The Tony Stark, had run away. Now it was time to face him.
He'd only been gone a few days. He had taken a couple hundred in cash and grabbed a hotel room under a fake name. It had been surprisingly difficult to find someone who was willing to take a bribe over the ID he didn't have. He was only twelve after all. Not old enough to get a hotel room. Even if everyone told him he looked older. Uncle Obediah said they were just flattering him. He said he looked like a baby chipmunk.
The back door to his father's 'totally legitimate' club swung open. Peter quickly turned away and looked for somewhere to hide. He wasn't ready after all.
"Peter," Obediah said. His voice sounded sad.
Peter slowly turned around.
Obediah sighed. "I hoped you wouldn't come home."
Peter shivered. "What... what do you mean?"
Obediah looked at him with pity. "Come see for yourself."
Peter let his uncle guide him into the building. He followed him through the halls which seemed to thump and throb in time with the house music on the other side. They stopped at the open door to the back room where Tony played cards with his friends. His heart fluttered at the sight of his father. He'd missed him so much. All he wanted was to be wrapped in his arms. He needed to hear his voice. He needed to hear him say that it was alright and he forgave him.
That's not what happened.
A boy about Peter's age with neat blond hair stood in front of Tony. He was smiling. Something no one but Peter ever did when they talked to the man. No one had the balls to look at that unforgiving smirk and smile.
Then Tony laughed. Head tossed back, eyes squeezed shut, laughed. Peter's stomach hurt.
Obediah squeezed his shoulder. "He's replaced you, kiddo. The minute you were gone he had another boy already lined up. They just got back from the shooting range."
"You mean-" Peter swallowed. His eyes burned and he ground his teeth to fight back the tears. "He wasn't looking for me?"
Obediah shrugged. "He sent Miller out after you."
Peter swayed, unsteady on his feet. Miller wasn't even a member yet. He wasn't one of the family. He wasn't ever going to be judging by how incompetent he was. Obediah righted him with both hands on his shoulders. "I didn't want you to have to see this. I understand now why you left. Some part of you must have known..."
"Known what?" He was cracking. So close to breaking as he watched his father stand and pat the other boy on the shoulder.
"Your father- well he likes your attention, Peter, but you're as replaceable as the partners he takes to bed. He can't help it really. It's just who he is. I know it must be hard, being his son, but the way he talks about you..." Obediah tisked. "You shouldn't have come back."
Peter took a step back. He couldn't catch his breath. How could have gotten it so wrong? He thought for sure if he ran away his father would go crazy with worry. He'd hunt him down non stop. He wouldn't sleep. All he wanted was his attention. Proof that Tony cared about him despite always being so busy with work. Peter had thought maybe he'd just hidden himself too well, but the truth was that Tony had never tried to find him. He had come home afraid of his anger, but certain he would be relieved to see him. He clearly didn't care that he was gone. He was happy that he was gone.
"What do I do?" Peter sobbed.
Obediah looked down at him as one might a dead frog on their doorstep. "Here, kid. This was for poker night, but you need it more than I do. Just don't come back this time. My heart can't bare it." He handed Peter an unsealed envelope. It was stuffed full of cash.
Peter held it in his hands. He looked at his father. He had his arm around the boy's shoulders and was leading him from the room. Peter turned away and ran.
...
The small of freshly roasted coffee greeted Peter as he entered the cafe. He threw his wallet and keys in the locker and grabbed his apron off the hook. He yawned and stretched his arms high above his head. His back cracked and he couldn't help but smile. Finally. He'd been trying to get that spot to pop for days.
Gwen greeted him with a grumpy scowl as he came out from the back.
"Good morning, sunshine," he laughed.
"Shut your whore mouth," she grumbled.
"Careful. You'll upset Mrs. Brown." Peter smiled and waved at the gray-haired old widow who sat in her usual spot by the window. She had her coffee, but she only liked the omelets the way Peter made them so he got to work making her breakfast.
"I don't get why you're always so happy."
Peter shrugged. "When I'm not here I'm under seven blankets, reliving my childhood trauma."
Gwen rolled her eyes. "Yeah well, I was promised I wouldn't have to work on weekends but your bestie took off with her boyfriend to get smashed on spring break."
"Ned isn't MJ's boyfriend, they grew up together."
"And if she was smart she would bag him before he gets that Oscorp job." Gwen pouted again. "I wanted that job."
"It's a minority position, Gwen."
"I know, I know. I'm not against it. They wouldn't hire me because of my record anyway."
Peter sighed. The criminal record that was his fault and that also haunted him as he hid underneath seven blankets. "I'm really sorry, Gwen."
She shrugged, but she wouldn't look at him. "It was worth it to get you out of trouble."
"And I'll keep trying to make it up to you."
She softened. "You don't have to."
"But I'm gonna." Peter grabbed Mrs. Brown's still steaming omelet and carried it over to the table. It seemed to take her a second too long to realize he was there. "Here you are. How's the coffee this morning, ma'am?"
She smiled. "Peter. It's lovely, thank you. And you're always so fast with my breakfast. Looks delicious, dear."
"Let me know if I can do anything else for you."
"Well I was looking for someone to help me rearrange my furniture this evening."
Peter grimaced. "Sorry, Mrs. Brown. I actually work a second job on Saturday nights. How about on Monday?"
"Alright. Monday then. Thank you, Peter." She smiled sweetly and patted the back of his hand where it rested on the table.
"You're too nice," Gwen scolded as he returned. "Stop letting people walk all over you."
"I know how to set a boundary when I need to," he shrugged. "It's just that Mrs. Brown doesn't have anyone. She's all alone."
Gwen frowned.
"What?"
"Is that how you feel, Peter?"
He wondered if she was right as he finished his shift. Loneliness was something he didn't think about. It hurt too much. Besides, how could he be lonely when he was never alone? His days were spent at the coffee shop among coworkers and their many customers. Evenings were spent at the only club in town that wasn't owned by the mafia: The Penthouse.
Despite its name, The Penthouse was a one-story building, if you didn't count the basement. The back door was guarded during business hours. Flash Thompson of all people was on the door today. Peter ignored whatever insult Flash threw at him as he let himself in. He was feeling down after what Gwen said and he wasn't going to let Flash make it worse. Despite Flash's bullying he'd have his back if someone tried to kidnap him on his way out the door. He'd already chased a guy off for him once. He was a jerk, but he had a good heart and Peter figured that was what really mattered.
In the dressing room the gossip was abuzz. Peter laughed and nodded as was expected of him, but his heart wasn't in it. He was lonely. He was.
He looked at his face in the mirror. He'd covered it in silver dust that would sparkle under the stage lights. There was no time to cry about it. He had rent to pay. He couldn't bear living with a roommate and in this city that meant work two jobs or starve. Sometimes three.
Peter covered the rest of his bare skin in glitter. Then he went out to take the stage.
The Penthouse was the regarded as the best gay strip club in town. Or at least Peter regarded it that way. The boss wasn't too sleazy and he kept the pimps and drug dealers out. The one time a trafficker showed up Bruce chased him off with a Glock. They were kept safe and the pay was fair. Plus they got to pick their own music and that was way better than dancing to the Pussycat Dolls every night of the week.
Peter recognized his regulars in the crowd. He spent some time on stage getting them warmed up before he hopped down to work the crowd. A dozen laps and a whole lot of sweat later, he didn't have enough money for the month. Peter sighed as he counted it out. He'd been trying to start a savings account for so long and he still didn't have anything to put in it.The Penthouse was the best thing that had ever happened to him. It was how he made ends meet. Even if that meant his whole weekend would be spent bone tired and grinding on married men. So long as the music made it impossible to think, he was golden.
The next night, The Penthouse was unusually packed. The boys in the dressing room all whispered rumors wondering what it was about. A CEO's birthday, the mafia come to take their club, a bachelor party? No one knew. Even the boss hadn't expected them. But when the music started and they started passing out big bills no one had any more complaints. It was amazing what a thong full of fifties could do.
Peter worked the pole, grinding and twisting. The men around his stage seemed to like his innocent coy act so he put it on. He looked just over his shoulder, fluttering his eyes, and when he came to take their cash he tucked his head down shyly. He took a water break and came back out to the floor. The lights were dimmer today. It was hard to see faces, but even low light caught the glimmer of jewelry and one man was decked out. His watch alone looked worth what Peter made in a month and he had a ring on every finger except the one that mattered. Peter licked his lips and crossed the floor to make his move.
"Lookin' for a dance, handsome?"
The man smiled. His eyes were all shadow, but Peter could see the gray flecks in an otherwise dark beard. He couldn't help it if it tickled his daddy issues.
The man held up a hundred dollar bill. "Show daddy what you got, sweetheart."
Peter's stomach fluttered. That had to be the hardest lap dance of his life. He was too turned on and it made him clumsy, but the man didn't seem to care. When Peter sat full on his lap and started grinding on his dick he passed him a bound stack of cash.
His deep voice purred against his neck. "Why don't you show me to the basement, beautiful? I have three more of those for you."
Peter almost moaned. This man had insane money and was hot as hell and he wanted to fuck him. He didn't think twice.
"Yes, sir." Peter slipped off of his lap and took his hand. It was hard not to pull him along at a sprint, but he had to keep the tension up, keep it sultry and enticing.
He pushed open one magenta painted door. The lighting was just as terrible here. The lights in the ceiling were all pink and they cast deep shadows everywhere. Perfect for privacy and setting the mood, but Peter did want to see this man's face. Then again, there was no way that he was as gorgeous as Peter was imagining.
A lot of clients preferred not to kiss him, but this guy took no issue with it. His mouth was on his the moment he turned around, kissing him so deeply that his legs felt weak, but a strong arm held him up.
His legs hit the bed and he was laid back onto it. The client leaned over him. Peter's head was hazy with the press of his lips and the smell of his cologne. All he could do was moan and arch into his touch. He kept telling himself that he needed to focus. He needed to take care of the client, but those hands felt so good on his bare skin, spreading apart his thighs, touching his hard cock through his g-string.
"Look at you melting," he purred with amusement. Peter licked his lips as he pulled back. His hand palmed his cock and Peter whimpered. "You're perfect."
Peter gasped, the words hitting just a little too hard. He needed it. He needed to be perfect for him. He'd do anything for it.
"What's your name?" Peter asked.
"Just call me daddy."
Peter bit down on his lip. This guy was gonna make him cum way too fast. He pulled him into a lingering kiss before crawling out from under him. He went to the nightstand where a basket of lube and condoms waited. As he turned back he caught sight of "Daddy" sliding off his jacket. He watched intently as he rolled up both of his sleeves.
"Bring that here, sweetheart," he called. Peter shivered. He wasn't supposed to get this affected by the clients. He didn't hate the sex typically, but it was more just part of the job. In all fairness, the guy was practically romancing him with how he pressed him into the bed and kissed him as he slipped the condom on.
Peter's legs were spread, wide, begging. His g-string tossed aside. Daddy took the invitation to squeeze himself inside. He was big too. Not so bad it hurt, but just the right size that Peter was helpless to put on any sort of performance.
"You're such a pretty little thing aren't you?" Daddy purred. "Listen to you whimpering."
Peter blushed. He usually toned down his whining. Sometimes clients complained. Daddy kissed his neck and he gasped. He reached up and put his hands on his shoulders.
"Daddy," he moaned.
"Is that the spot, baby?" He rolled his hips, nudging at that spot Peter barely remembered existed at this point. Was he really getting paid for something that felt this good?
"Yes, daddy please."
Daddy kissed him again. "You're so sweet. I'll have to come back for more of this. A man could get addicted to a pretty thing like you."
Peter whined and daddy pushed in deeper, filling him up until he groaned and his nails dug into his back. He was so big and when he moved, oh god, when he fucked him- he never wanted it to end. All he could was hang on and stare up at that shadowy face. He could make out a beard, dark eyes maybe, some gray in his hair. He could have been his father. It made him feel guilty, but the thought of being fucked as if his dad actually wanted him, as if he cared about him.
"Can you cum for me, sweetheart? I want to hear you."
Peter slid his hand down between them. He was pretty close already. He wrapped his hand around his cock and stroked it while daddy fucked him stupid.
"That's it. You sound so pretty, baby. Cum for me."
Nails biting into his shoulder, screaming up at the ceiling, Peter came. Daddy kissed his neck and a moment later he was cumming too.
He would have gotten himself a condom if he'd known he was going to end up cumming like that. He'd made a mess of the poor guy's shirt, and after he'd fucked him so good too. He tried to apologize but daddy just laughed.
"It's a compliment, baby. Don't worry about it." He cleaned himself up with a towel and came back with another one for Peter. He took it from him quickly before he could make this encounter any more intimate.
Daddy picked up his discarded jacket from the end of the bed. Peter caught the gleam of a gun in the low light. Then he took out another three big bands of cash as promised. He set the money on the bed next to Peter. Then he bent down for a last kiss that made his stomach flutter.
"Thank you," he said.
"Any time," Peter stuttered. This guy was unreal. It almost made him jealous to think he was this sweet to the other guys, but he snapped himself out of it real quick. One good fuck was no reason to go getting all heart-eyed.
Peter picked up the money as daddy left the room. Each was a full band of hundred dollar bills. He flipped through the bills searching for some kind of trick, but no. They were all hundreds. He grabbed his g-string and all but ran back out to the floor. He ran around the bar and grabbed the pen beside the cash register.
"Everything okay, Peter?" said the bartender who's name was also Peter, but he was older and taller with a sort of goofy smile.
"Yeah, yeah just uh-" Peter swiped the pen across the bills. He twisted and turned them in his hand checking over every inch. He couldn't find a single fake. Not one. They were either legit or really well made. He looked up at the room. A couple of guys at the bar were staring, but daddy was long gone. He looked at the other Peter. The other Peter looked at the four full bands in Peter's hands.
Forty-grand. He just got paid 40-grand.
145 notes · View notes
vaguekiwi · 2 years
Note
7 of Club - Hurt/Comfort: Tony comforts an injured Peter while Bruce and/or Cho patches him up (stitches, resetting bones, dislocated joints, bullet removal, disinfecting wounds, etc.) You don’t have to do all those, I was just throwing out ideas. I don’t really care how Peter’s hurt, I just want to see Tony comforting Peter while he’s being patched up.
Tumblr media
♣️ 7 of Clovers / Clubs: “Hurt/Comfort”
Send me a prompt!
-
“Ouch!” Peter’s tongue clicked with a hiss as he jerked away. He pressed instinctively against Tony right beside him, who gave a tight squeeze of reassurance. Standing next to the hospital bed, Bruce watched Peter tentatively before reaching with the disinfectant.
Tony murmured, “Doin’ great, Pete.”
Peter’s voice came out in a thick huff, the gravelly tone obscuring his pain as he grumbled out, “Thanks Mr. Stark.”
Tony chuckled and kissed Peter’s hair, “You haven’t called me that in a long time,”
You must be in a lot of pain, he didn’t finish.
Peter might’ve laughed, but it was a croaked, sad sound.
“Why isn’t it healing?” he fretted, resulting in an uneasy look between Bruce and Tony.
Tony said, “It’s still a new wound, right, baby? We just need to give it some time.”
Bruce finished disinfecting the stitches in Peter’s arm, and then began to bandage it.
“But it should’ve…” Peter trailed off and glared at the floor. He kicked his feet out, the action almost petulant, and sniffed. He winced when Bruce had to lift his arm, his shoulder still sore from where it had been wrenched back into place.
“Should’ve what, Pete?”
Peter mumbled, “I haven’t needed stitches before… things they… they heal. They’re okay.”
Bruce remarked, “They’ll heal even better with the proper medical attention.” He winked at Tony, “Not that I doubt frozen peas and expired Tylenol.”
Peter smarted back, “That was all I needed in Queens.”
Back when it was just the apartment with May. When he was the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man and he waved off all of his injuries with excuses of bullies and clumsiness.
Now Tony couldn’t free his thoughts from Helen’s warning last night.
She’d met Tony and Bruce just outside Peter’s hospital room. She had started to speak in a low voice, but then seemed to remember Peter’s enhanced senses and ushered Tony and Bruce out of the med bay and across the lobby.
His healing factor makes him reckless, she’d said. It wasn’t a problem with bank robbers or even men like Toomes. But these are bigger battles. If he doesn’t learn to temper himself, he may lose a limb next time if not his life.
“It will heal,” Tony repeated, conviction he didn’t trust threading into his voice.
Peter sniffled and Tony kissed his curls again.
Tony was right.
Much to Peter’s relief, and Tony’s own gut-clenching fear, the wounds healed. His stiffness faded and his muscles grew strong again. His gashes knitted themselves back together until not even scars remained. It was slower than Peter was used to, but it would have killed or crippled someone else, so Tony was just grateful that the boy agreed to stay home for a while.
Lay low, eat ice cream for breakfast and ramen at midnight, lounge on the couch and catch up on TV. They spent a lot of time curled up together, Peter’s back pressed to Tony while Tony gently drew his fingers along his arm or through his hair, rubbing circles into the fading pink burns. Peter let Tony indulge him — showering him in soft touches and gentle forehead kisses and lazy mornings and sweetened lattes and whispered I love yous in the middle of the night, barely audible above rain roaring outside the window.
In his effort to keep the kid happy and complacent at home, Tony almost bought a puppy. But at the last minute he considered the immense effort involved in socialising a puppy and providing it enough attention, so he went with a bunny instead.
Something low-maintenance. Maybe part of him knew — even subliminally — that Peter wouldn’t stay home forever.
Peter named the bunny Horseshoe — calling him Shoo-Shoo. So now they cuddled on the couch at night with Peter wrapped in Tony’s arms and Shoo-Shoo wrapped in Peter’s.
Horsehoe minded his own business, let Peter pet him, and gave humorous side-eye at comically ironic intervals.
More squeezed hands and late night laughter and languide afternoons and hot cocoa and whispered I love yous in the middle of the night.
Peter got a clean bill of health. His last bandage was unwrapped and his last PT appointment checked off. He stopped complaining of twinging pains and started to venture further around the apartment.
Tony caught him climbing the walls and ceilings. Horseshoe had webs on his feet and hopped to keep up behind Peter, ears weighted down humorously by gravity.
Not knowing what else to do or how to keep Peter safe and inside, Tony started inviting the kid to cook with him. It used up Peter’s restless energy, and the more complex the recipe the longer it took to make. One day they spent eight hours assembling a feast of palak paneer and dal makhani and basmati rice and toasted naan.
They didn’t even eat much of it. They just fell asleep on the couch together with Back to the Future playing in the background.
Horseshoe seemed to like the spinach purée.
More tight hugs and warm baths and sweet nothings and gooey cookies and whispered I love yous in the middle of the night.
Then, like a parent dragging their feet to college drop-off, Tony watched Peter prepare to leave the nest again.
He’d been healthy for weeks, the heroes of the world had been short-handed for ages, and even Tony could admit the Avengers would benefit from Peter’s quick thinking, agile flips, and golden personality again.
But it didn’t make the reality any easier. Peter was mortal now, in a way that he hadn’t been before — or at least in a way that Tony had refused to see.
It started with quiet, longing glances.
Peter’s smile would fade mid-laugh and his head would turn to the window. Or Tony would walk into the living room and find him standing by the balcony door. He was less engaged with the TV and the computer and the kitchen. He started to tinker with his web shooters and suit coding again.
Tony didn’t want to be controlling, or start an argument. So he didn’t say anything.
Horseshoe watched these developments with a twitching nose; occasionally he would hop to Peter and nudge his hand, drawing the boy’s attention back inside the apartment.
Tony expected Peter to just be gone one day. For pictures of Spider-Man swinging across the city or confronting a purse-snatcher to show up in his news feed. For Peter to return to the apartment breathless and bruised after his first day out, and Tony would just have to grit his teeth and lie awake at night and worry with a clenched jaw.
But that’s not what happened.
Peter brought it up somewhere in between the fairy lights and chilled wine and chocolate-covered berries and leisurely online shopping and whispered I love yous in the middle of the night.
He brought it up with Horseshoe cuddled in his arms and his eyes taking in the skyline beyond the balcony.
“I’d be okay.” He said, and somehow Tony knew what he meant. And somehow shame and indignation filled him.
He spluttered out, “I’m not keeping you here.”
“No,” Peter agreed, both of them thinking of their dinner out last week and an afternoon at Starbucks a few blocks away.
“But you don’t want me to… go.” There was a weight to it. An implication beyond their civilian lives.
Don’t want me to be Spider-Man.
Tony said tactfully, “I want you to be safe.”
“And I will be.”
“You can’t know that.”
“Tony,” Peter’s voice was soft and placating and altogether reassuring.
When had the tables turned? When had Tony stopped comforting Peter’s physical pain? When did it become Peter soothing Tony’s worries and fears?
“I’ll be okay.” Peter said, “I’ll be safe.”
Tony nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
He let Peter place Horseshoe in his arms, and he clung to the bunny tighter than he thought he needed to.
Tony watched him walk out onto the balcony, clicking his webshooters into place.
He thought: be safe.
He called: “have fun!”
30 notes · View notes
truebluedreamer · 1 year
Text
Chapter 4 posted! Only one chapter to go. Title: rare and sweet as cherry wine Rating: E Fandom: MCU Pairing: Starker (Tony Stark/Peter Parker) Tags: Adult Peter (no underage), alternate universe, canon divergence, angst with a happy ending, time travel fix-it, etc. Summary:
Tony is gone.
Peter will never be the same.
or
A fix-it fic where Tony and Peter were stranded in space on the Benatar together, and in the end, Tony still dies. But there's a broken time machine out in the woods, and Peter is willing to take any chance he can get.
7 notes · View notes
starkerhowlter · 2 years
Text
Well I just had the worst dream of my life. Who wants the saddest thing ever? I quite literally just cried in my sleep
Warning: angst, MCD prior to start.
Peter took over the lab after tonys passing and made his own iron suit but imported everything from the ironman collection and spider collection into it. as he walked around the lab preparing to give a speech at the stark expo (they kept it running in tonys honor) he starts seeing/hearing all the memories of tony throughout their entire relationship from their first text to their first I love you in the lab to the speech to his final "I'll be home tonight, baby, this'll be just like all the other times."
Then he realizes he's been talking to the spider man suit but saying all of tony's lines to the empty suit and crying.
When he scans through to see the interface inside his former suit he sees that the suit auto opened his texts to tony as part of the startup routine and he falls to the floor crying.
7 notes · View notes
luvpeterparker · 2 years
Text
I've read Starker fanfiction, where Peter was injured while on a mission and Tony was afraid that Peter would get hurt again. So tony forbade peter to be spiderman and didn't talk to peter for a few days out of anger. Peter feels sad and doesn't deserve to be Spiderman if Tony forbids him. Peter tried to hurt himself. PLEASE ANYONE PLEASE TELL ME WHAT IT'S TITLE
10 notes · View notes
pretty-bratty · 1 month
Text
MAMMA MIA! STARKER AU
Tumblr media
"Wait a second. You found your mom's old diary? Hid it from Aunt May and read it?"
"Yeah, Ned, focus! I have three potential dads!"
"May's gonna kill you when she finds out."
"When she finds out, it's gonna be too late, MJ."
"What do you mean-"
"I invited them all to the island."
When Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark arrive to Kalokairi, Peter quickly finds out that May has even more reasons to kill him. It wasn't his mom's diary, it was hers. However, Tony is the only one who actually had a summer fling with both sisters at some point (yes, they were wild back then, and Peter's not sure he's ever gonna be able to look May in the eye).
And now Peter's praying that Tony's not his biological father, because he wants to call this gorgeous man Daddy instead of dad...
Including:
🌊 Tony, who falls hard and fast and is double terrified, because not only he's falling for a kid who can be his son, but he might actually be his son?! Universe has a wicked sense of humor.
🌊 Peter, who's trying to figure out the way out of this whole mess he created. Making more messes on the way. It's a talent.
🌊 Steve and Bucky, who fucking finally stop being oblivious dumbasses and get together after years of mutual silent pining.
🌊 May, who doesn't know whether she wants to kill or kiss Peter for bringing these three idiots back into her life. Probably both.
🌊 Ned and MJ, who are here for this wild ride (with popcorn).
🌊 Lots of pining and emotional hurt/comfort from both Tony and Peter.
🌊 Greek island and lots of good music.
PS: Tony and Peter have a heart-wrenching confessions exchange on the cliff to "The Winner Takes It All" playing. Almost sure they can never be what they want to be:
"I've been wanting to find my dad my whole life, but now I want nothing more than to never know my dad. I don't want you to be my dad!!! I need you..."
Soon after that the confirmation comes that Tony's definitely not, in fact, Peter's father.
They celebrate it at Stucky wedding.
93 notes · View notes
starker-sorbet · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Tony waking up in the middle of a panic attack due to his nightmares from Titan and being comforted by his husband. Peter holding Tony in his arms while telling him that he's on earth not dying in space, Thanos is dead and gone, and that Peter is here with him. Helping his love to remember where he is and to feel safe in their bedroom once more.
@tstarksbingospectacular fill : G2 - Hurt/comfort bingo card below
Tumblr media
61 notes · View notes
Text
Put It On The Fridge Protocol
https://archiveofourown.org/works/51874924 by prongsredconvers The thing about Peter Parker, was that he talked way too much. Everybody, at least once in their lives, had told him that. Also, he had this tiny tendency to embarrass himself in every way possible. No matter how serious, crucial, threatening, life-or-death-ish the situation was, trust Peter Benjamin Parker to find a way to make a fool of himself. And well, he was a scientist, after all. And a good scientist always seeks the best results when trying to validate his theories. So, stated those facts: what could possibly be better than epically humiliating himself in front of the fucking Avengers?   Or: Peter calls Tony "dad" in front of the Avengers. Caos ensues. Inspired by that b99 opening where Jake calls Holt dad, but with out favourite dumb irondad-spiderson duo. Lots of talking and emotions and yadda yadda. Enjoy! Words: 9263, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Steve Rogers, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones (Marvel) (Mentioned), Pepper Potts (mentioned) Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, Ned Leeds & Peter Parker Additional Tags: Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Hugs, because they really need it, Emotional Constipation, I love that it's a tag, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Issues, but they work them out, Heartfelt Conversations, Feelings, NOT STARKER!!!, Precious Peter Parker, we stan rhodey and ned, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", by accident, and he regrets it, Humor, Attempt at Humor, look guys i tried, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, the angst is them talking about emotions because yes somebody teach them pls, Tagging Is So Much Fun, B99 reference, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51874924
40 notes · View notes
Text
That Herrmann/Halstead DNA (Chapter Five)
Summary: This is Part Twenty-One of my series A Herrmann/Halstead Production. It is an AU where Christopher Herrmann's mom had an affair with Pat Halstead resulting in a baby. The series follows this OC character (Rebecca "Bex" Herrmann) as she grows up and gets to know her brothers and the various Chicago teams. It is very much an AU, just to underscore that. It doesn't follow the same timeline and characters will follow different paths.
Click here for the Series Rundown where you can find the links to read all of the previous installments (which I highly recommend you do so that this one makes sense.)
Rating: Mature
Relationships: Christopher Herrmann & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Original Female Character, Will Halstead & Original Female Character, Jay Halstead & Will Halstead, Greg 'Mouse' Gerwitz/Original Female Character, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Assorted OC Couples
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Assault, Stabbing, Gunshot Wounds, Blood and Injury, Whump, Trauma, Eventual Hopeful Ending
A/N: I received my degree from the medical school of Television Drama which means while things might not (*cough* will not *cough*) be accurate, they will be exciting. *jazz hands*
Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Two hours later
***
Al
After leaving Lexi with the gang upstairs, Al made his way down to Bex’s room. He rapped softly on the door and entered when he heard the quiet call to come in.
Seeing Bex in that bed was like a punch in the gut. She’d been in rough shape on the scene, but now that she was cleaned up, the marks on her were that much starker. It was only years of being on the job that allowed him to school his face into a semblance of a smile.
“Hey, champ,” he said, stepping over to her. “How you doing?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Bex said, her voice muffled by the oxygen mask as she blinked at him slowly.
Ah. Drugged up to high heaven then. Probably for the best.
“Me and the crew finished up our shifts and brought a bunch of food,” Al said. “Figured everyone would be starving by now.”
Right on cue, Jay’s stomach growled.
“You’re not wrong,” Chris chuckled. He and Cindy were on a little couch off to the side, her feet up on his lap while he massaged them. Jay and Will were sprawled out in two chairs on one side of the bed while Mouse was tucked in close on the other side of it. He was leaning half off his chair, head propped up on one elbow on the bed, his free hand wrapped around Bex’s arm. All of them looked exhausted despite the good front they were putting up.
“Well, we got burgers and sandwiches and fries and other good stuff,” Al said. “I can bring some down to you or if you want to go up—”
“You should go up,” Bex said. “Check on everyone for me. Please?”
“I can stay,” Mouse offered. “You guys go ahead and I’ll grab a bite later.”
“Maybe see if there’s any updates while we’re up there?” Chris said quietly and Will nodded.
Al knew they were still waiting to hear about Emery, but considering how badly injured she’d been, he figured no news was good news. No news meant they were still working on her and he could keep hoping.
She was a good kid. He was putting a lot of power into those hopes.
“Jay, Jay,” Bex mumbled at him as he stood and he moved closer, leaning in to hear what she had to say.
“Yeah, Bex?”
“Bring me fries.”
Jay barked out a laugh. “You want fries?”
“Yes.” Bex pulled down her mask to nod solemnly at him. “Fries will cure me.”
Al had to smother his own laughter as Jay immediately agreed and Will dragged a hand down his face.
“Seriously, guys?” Will groaned.
“No, Will, trust me,” Bex said to him, eyes wide. “It’s medicine.”
“It’s medicine, Will,” Jay repeated, biting his lip trying to maintain a serious face.
“You can have some fries if you keep your mask on until they arrive,” Will said, pointing a stern finger at Bex who immediately started putting it back in place. Mouse reached up to help her get it set, shaking his head as he smiled at her.
“Thank you,” she said, eyes fluttering as sleep started pulling her back under again.
“Alright, come on.” Chris stood up and reached out to help Cindy to her feet. “Let’s get some medicine and regroup.”
“We’re not calling it—okay, fine, yeah, let’s go,” Will said, rolling his eyes with a little chuckle. He held the door as they all filed out into the hallway.
Al waited until they were closer to the elevator to share the rest of his news. “Voight’s on his way back too. He’s got the detective in charge of the case with him and she’s gonna want to interview everyone.”
“Bex isn’t up for it,” Will said immediately. “Not tonight.”
“That’s what we figured, but maybe you? And Hailey?” They’d had a front row seat to things, so to speak, and getting that info while it was fresh in their minds would be important.
“Yeah,” Jay stepped onto the elevator and jabbed a finger at the button. “Might as well get it over with.”
“It’ll help Bex,” Al said quietly as he came to stand beside him. To them it was a clear-cut case of self defense, but put it in the hands of a scum bag lawyer and anything could happen. The more evidence they had on their side, the better.
“I know.” Jay sighed, rubbing at his eyes. “Whatever’s needed, count me in.”
Al clapped him on the shoulder in thanks. In solidarity. Whatever was needed went both ways.
The elevator dinged and they all shuffled off as the doors opened. The lounge where their crew was set up was only a little ways down the hall.
He gave Lexi a smooch on the head, checking in with her as he went by, but she seemed okay enough with Bex’s friends. She gave him a tiny head shake to let him know they hadn’t heard anything yet.
Still hope, he reminded himself.
Al let the others get Jay and his family settled with food. Platt was sitting off in a corner by herself looking like the last thing she wanted was company.
He made his way over.
“You get something to eat?” he asked as he settled into the chair beside her.
“Not hungry,” she said, shaking her head.
“You know the only way to get through a crisis is with a full stomach. I can grab you a sandwich or a muffin—”
“I said I’m not hungry, Al,” she snapped.
He held up his hands, eyebrows raised. “Alright. Let me know if you change your mind.” Al kept his mouth shut, waiting her out, until—
“I just—I keep going over it,” she said, staring hard at the carpet, tearing at the rim of the empty coffee cup in her hands. “Something should have come through, right? It should have hit my desk or been a phone call—something. So, what did I miss? When did I miss it? If we’d known Ty was out even an hour earlier—”
“Hey, hang on.” Al turned in his seat to face her. “This is not on you.”
“But if I missed—”
“You didn’t miss anything,” Al said. He’d put money on it. “This is—you know what it’s like. Agencies like Victim Services, they got no budget and hardly any staff all trying to cover a mountain of cases. Stuff falls through the cracks. We put the blame where it belongs.”
“I’d like to clock that prick myself,” she muttered.
“Get in line,” Al said. That got the tiniest grin out of her. He’d take it. He leaned back in his seat and stretched out his legs. “Still no word, eh?”
Trudy shook her head, sighing.
“Emery, she’s a good kid,” Al said. “She’s been helping Lexi.”
“Oh, yeah?”
He nodded. “Pretty sure Lexi’s boyfriend is on his way to being the same flavour of shitburger as Ty, but Emery kind of took her under her wing and helped her navigate some stuff.” Helped their whole family navigate some stuff. “Lex went with her mom today and grabbed her stuff from that loft place they were staying at. She’s moving back home.”
For the first time in months, Al felt like he could finally breath again.
Thanks to Emery.
“Yeah, she’s a good kid.”
***
Jay
Jay was digging into a burger, filling Sam in on Al’s news, when Julie showed up.
“Oh, food,” she said, collapsing into the chair on Sam’s other side and swiping a few of his fries. “Thank god.”
“You just got off shift?” Sam asked, handing over half of his sandwich to her.
Julie nodded, humming around her mouthful. “They finally sent someone to take over watch duty,” she said, grimacing. “Really glad to not be around that asshole anymore.”
“Hey!”
They all looked up to see Shay and Brett hurrying into the lounge. Shay bent down to give Julie a kiss while Brett detoured over to see Kev. “Any news?” Shay asked them.
“Nothing yet,” Jay said.
She sighed, pulling out her phone to check the time. “We dropped someone off downstairs and the Chief gave us permission to swing by and see how things were going, but we can’t stay long. We’ve got like, five minutes so talk fast. How’s Bex?”
“In and out.” Jay poked at his fries, making a mental note to swing by the caf for some fresh ones before he went back to her room. “They’ve got her on a lot of pain meds. Tomorrow’ll be worse.” He’d been in Bex’s place before and she did not have a fun road ahead.
“We’ll say hi before we go,” Shay said, munching on a fry she’d stolen from Sam. Jay shot him a commiserating look and shook some of his own onto the poor guy’s plate.
Shay stood up abruptly and Jay noticed everyone else starting to do the same, all of them going quiet. He looked around only to scramble out of his own chair to join Will.
Connor and Dr. Latham were walking down the hall, headed their way.
They both looked exhausted as hell, but beyond that, Jay couldn’t get a sense of whether or not they were coming to give them good news or bad.
Jay took a shaky breath and braced himself for the worst.
***
Will
Will searched Connor’s face as he approached, looking for some kind of clue for how things went, but Connor wouldn’t even meet his eyes.
Maybe that was enough of a clue right there.
Will’s stomach sank.
Fuck.
This—this wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. How was he supposed to go down and tell Bex that…that her friend was dead.
Will honestly didn’t know if he could.
He looked back at Connor wishing he could wrap him up in the hug they both desperately needed when he realized—Connor wasn’t avoiding his eyes. He was searching the crowd.
Looking for Bex.
Will caught the flicker of alarm the passed over his face when he realized she wasn’t there. Then he sought out Will, brows pulled together in a frown.
‘Long story’, Will mouthed at him. ‘Later.’
Connor frowned even further, but nodded…and gave Will the tiniest of grins.
Oh.
Oh.
His brain had barely wrapped around the emotional one-eighty it was going through when Dr. Latham cleared his throat.
“Family of Emery Hughes?”
“Here,” Kira said, voice thick with anxiety as she pushed to the front of the group. “It’s, uh, all of us. We’re her family. Is she—is Emery okay?”
“Ms. Hughes successfully made it through surgery,” Dr. Latham said, pausing while the wave of excitement and relief passed through their little group. “Her injuries and the amount of blood lost were quite severe though and she coded a number of times during her procedure. The next forty-eight hours will be crucial. We’ll be keeping a close eye on her.”
“Are we allowed to see her?” Malia asked.
“Not yet,” Dr. Latham said. “She has some post-op procedures to go through and then she’ll be moved to the ICU. Visitors will be allowed there on a limited basis. Dr. Rhodes can answer any further questions. Thank you.” He nodded at them all before walking away.
There was a moment of calm while everyone took that in and then they all converged on Connor, asking question after question which he answered as best he could. The problem was, in a situation like this, most of the answers were ‘we don’t know’ and ‘we’ll have to wait and see.’
After getting what details they could, it devolved into variations on the same questions which was helping no one.
“Okay, back up, back up,” Will said, wading in to give Connor some space. “We know all we can so far. Sit tight, make sure you get something to eat, and someone will be by to let us know when Emery can have visitors. I’ve got to fill Connor in on…everything else so just…give us a moment. Please.”
Kira and Malia darted in to give Connor hugs and whispered thanks, but then joined the rest of them in taking a seat. Chris and Cindy gave him hugs next. “Make sure you get something to eat too,” Cindy said to him before following Chris back to their spot by Trudy and Al.
He looked over at Will, more than a bit bewildered. “Fill me in on what? Where’s Bex? What happened?”
“Come over here.” Will grabbed his hand and took him over to a quieter corner of the lounge. Jay followed. Between the two of them, they managed to relay the full story of what had gone down leaving Connor even paler than before.
“So, uh, she’s been admitted?” Connor asked, closing his eyes briefly as he rubbed at his forehead. “But she’s okay?”
“She will be.” Will scooched closer to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
“You want to go down and see for yourself?” Jay asked as he stood up.
“Yes,” Connor said, voice cracking. He pressed his face into his hands. “Oh, my god, this day.”
“We’ll go in a bit,” Will whispered to Jay who nodded and backed away. “Hey.” Will leaned in to rest his head against Connor’s. “Let’s go somewhere private?”
Connor nodded and together they ducked down the hall into the thankfully empty nurses’ lounge.
As soon as the door was shut behind him, Connor was pacing the room. “We almost lost her so many times,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “At one point, I thought—I thought we wouldn’t get her back. Latham tried to kick me out and I fought him every time. Hard. Pretty sure I’m getting written up for that, but I couldn’t leave her—I couldn’t—” He stopped suddenly and turned to Will, tears filling his eyes. “I told him she wasn’t family, Will, I said—”
“It was the only way he would’ve let you in there,” Will said, fully understanding Connor’s angst over that. They might not be related by blood, but over the past few months, he and Connor and Bex and Emery had become their own weird little family unit. “You did what you had to, Con. You saved her.”
The tears finally fell then as Connor face-planted into Will’s neck, wrapping his arms around him and Will hugged him back tight.
They stood there like that for a long while as Will let himself have a good cry of his own.
They weren’t okay. Not yet.
But they would be.
***
Connor
Connor pulled away eventually, wiping at his cheeks as he sniffled. “I can’t believe I missed everything with Bex too,” he said. “You said she’s got a pulmonary contusion? How often are they checking her stats? Is the bleed—”
“Babe.” Will took his hands and gave them a squeeze. “We’ve been on top of it, don’t worry. She’s been checked multiple times and Dr. Fahir is keeping a close eye on her.”
Right. They would’ve had to hand her off from the ED staff. Part of Connor hated that they couldn’t be the ones looking after her, but he’d crossed paths with Dr. Fahir a few times and she was excellent. At least Bex was in good hands.
And they could still check in on her.
“Let’s go see her,” he said, swooping in for one more hug from Will. “We can let her know about Emery.”
“It’ll be a big weight off of her mind.” Will held him close, giving him a quick kiss before releasing him. “She asks if there’s any news every time she wakes up.”
They headed back out to the lounge to let everyone know where they were going and Jay hopped up to come with them.
“I want to make sure Mouse goes and gets something to eat,” he said on the way to the elevator. “You guys should too after you’ve seen Bex.”
“What is it you and Bex say?” Will said, waving a hand as he searched for the words. “Okay, Mama Chicken.” He laughed while Jay rolled his eyes.
“Bex is too drugged up to boss anyone around so someone has to do it,” Jay said.
“Too drugged up to boss anyone around?” Will smirked at him. “I seem to recall a demand for fries earlier…”
“Ah, crap.” Jay reached over and hit the button for the caf floor. “Forgot about that.”
“It’s Bex’s medicine,” Will told Connor, managing to hold a serious face for about two seconds before his lips started to twitch.
Connor laughed, leaning into his side. Oh, she was definitely drugged up. An under-the-influence Bex was a snacky Bex.
They got off on Bex’s floor, leaving Jay to his fry mission, and headed for her room. Will knocked quietly before letting them in.
Bex was sleeping and Connor—he was grateful for that. He needed a minute to get himself together. Will and Jay had both been clear about her injuries and he’d seen Emery for himself, but the double whammy of seeing Bex right after all of that…it was a bit overwhelming.
He grabbed Will’s hand, squeezing it as they came over to the bed.
“The doc came by while you guys were away,” Mouse said quietly. “She said Bex’s stats looked pretty good and said she could ditch the mask for this tube-y thing.” He gestured at the nasal cannula.
“That’s good,” Will said. He shot Connor a little smile. “She kept taking it off to talk anyway.”
“Any, uh, any news about Emery?” Mouse asked. “Bex was asking again.”
“Yeah, actually.” Connor grinned at him, happy to be able to share some good news after what they’d all been through. “She’s in recovery right now. Still going to be touch and go for awhile, but I’m hopeful.”
“Wha’s going on?” Bex blinked at them groggily. Her eyes landed on Connor and they widened as she focused on him. “Connor! What’s happening? How’s—ah!” She clutched her side, groaning from the pain of trying to sit up. Mouse beat him and Will to it as he helped ease her back onto her pillow.
Will made space for Connor to move up on the other side of the bed and get closer to her.
“Emery made it through surgery,” Connor told her, getting right to the point so she’d hopefully relax a little bit.
“She did?” Bex asked, voice shaky. She reached out with a bandaged hand to clutch at his. “She’s okay?”
“We need to keep an eye on her,” Connor said. He didn’t want to lie in case things took a turn. He was hoping for the best, but he was also well aware of the risks. “She lost a fair amount of blood, Bex, and the knife hit her lungs and intestine and almost hit her heart. We had to do a lot of repairs. We’ll be watching for infection, further bleeding—the next couple of days will be critical and we’ll be keeping her sedated so she can heal.”
“Oh, god.” Bex’s head fell back against the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. “So, she’s—she’s not okay—”
“She’s alive,” Connor said firmly. “We’re doing everything we can to keep her that way and I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but we’re pretty determined around here.”
That got a weak laugh out of her.
Connor gently squeezed her hand. “I’ll be with her as much as I can,” he said. “You focus on resting and getting yourself healed up.”
“Okay.” Bex sniffed. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to heal without fries though.”
“Jay is literally getting them as we speak,” Will exclaimed. “Despite my better judgement, I might add.”
Bex beamed at him before turning back to Connor. “Thank you,” she said, smile still a bit wet. “For saving her. I don’t know what I’d do—I just—” She sighed as she held out her arms. “I just really need a hug now please.”
“Good because I do too.” Connor leaned in for the most careful hug he could possibly give her. “Love you, Bex,” he whispered in her ear.
“Love you too,” she whispered back.
“Knock, knock,” Jay called out as he popped his head through the door.
“Fries!” Bex cheered.
Connor released Bex and cleared out of the way for the treasured snack. “She’s in better spirits than I thought she’d be,” he murmured to Will who raised an eyebrow at him.
“Pretty sure the pain meds and the shock are holding back the worst of it,” Will said quietly. “I think it’s going to hit her hard sooner rather than later.”
“We’ll help her through it,” Connor said. “In the meantime…”
“We have fries,” Will finished for him with a little grin.
***
Bex
Bex didn’t care what Will said. These fries were making her feel at least thirty percent better.
Jay had managed to convince him and Connor to go and take a break and grab a bite to eat. Now he was working on Mouse.
“I’ll stay right here,” Jay said. “It’s been hours since lunch, man. You need to get something.”
“I recommend the fries,” Bex told him.
“Yes,” Mouse said, lips twitching. “A few times now.” His phone beeped and he pulled it out to check the text, frowning down at the screen.
“Everything okay?” Bex asked, mentally crossing her fingers that it was because they really didn’t need anymore disasters today.
“Yeah, uh, Ed’s here,” Mouse said, sounding more than a little surprised by that. “I texted him to let him know what was going on and I guess he wanted to check on us in person?”
“Aw, that’s nice,” Bex said. She liked Ed. “He’s nice. You should go say thank you.”
“You heard the lady,” Jay said, nodding at the door. “Take a little break, Mouse. We’ll be here when you get back.”
Mouse looked torn, glancing between her and Jay and his phone. “I can just text him,” he began and Bex reached out to pat at his arm.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “Jay’s here. You should have snacks. Snacks are good.”
“You make a pretty good case for them.” Mouse smiled down at her, brushing her hair back from her forehead before leaning in to give her a kiss. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
“Take a proper break,” Bex said, trying to make sure he was listening because this was important.
“I’m listening,” Mouse whispered back. He chuckled a bit and oh, jeez—was she talking her thoughts again? “Yeah,” he said. “It’s okay. I like it.” He gave her one more kiss before straightening up and giving Jay one of those back-slappy bro hugs they did. “I’ll be back soon,” he promised.
Jay plopped down into the empty seat on her right once Mouse left, leaning back with one foot up on the edge of the bed. “How are those fries?” he asked, grinning at her.
“Best fries of my life,” she said, nudging the container along the little table in his direction. “Want some?”
“Nah, I grabbed some food upstairs. Thanks though for offering to share the precious.” His laugh turned into a giant yawn. “Oh, man. ‘scuse me.”
Bex tilted her head and took a good look at him. He was putting on a good show with the jokes and the smiles, but his eyes were red, his shoulders were tight, and he looked about two seconds away from passing out in his chair. “You can take a nap on the couch if you want.”
“Hm?” Jay straightened up, shooting her a look. “A nap? No, no, I’m good. Happy to hang out right here.” His eyes passed over here, pausing on all the marks she was sporting. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said softly.
“You know I’m not going anywhere either,” she blurted out, her filter apparently completely off.
Jay stilled. “I know—”
“I mean, I’m okay—or I’m going to be and you don’t have to worry—”
“Bex.” Jay lowered his foot and sat forward in his chair, catching her gaze in his. “I’m always gonna worry. That’s just how it is.”
A wave of guilt rose up in Bex for what she’d put him through today. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. He opened his mouth and she shook her head before he could argue. “No, just listen,” Bex said. She held out her bandaged hand and he took it carefully, gently squeezing her fingertips. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you today and that you had to hear…everything. I can’t—I’m not sorry for going in because I had to, Jay. I couldn’t leave her alone. I couldn’t—”
“I know,” Jay said quickly. “I get it. I do.”
“I just—I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she said. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“You’re sorry—” Jay’s voice caught and he shook his head. “Bex, you did nothing wrong, okay? You were—oh, my god, you were so brave. You saved Emery’s life. I’m sorry. I tried to get there as fast I could, but I’m sorry you were alone with him for so long—”
“No,” Bex cut him off as forcefully as she could. “You were the reason I could fight back. It was your training—you and Hailey—and knowing that you were coming? That—the whole time, that helped keep me going. So, thank you.”
Jay let out a shaky breath and swiped at the tears streaming down his face. “Scared the shit out of me, you know that?”
Bex nodded, tugging on his hand. “C’mere. Hug time.”
He moved in for one, mindful of her injuries, and gave her a little squeeze.
“You know I love you, right?” she whispered.
“Always,” he said. “I love you, too.”
“Don’t tell Will,” Bex said as he pulled away. “But I think the hugs might be working better than the fries.”
“How about both,” Jay laughed as he fell back into his seat. “Both sounds good to me.”
“Jay Halstead.” Bex fished out a fry and saluted him with it. “Certified genius.”
He snatched one up for himself and popped it in his mouth. “Hey.” His eyebrows flew up. “Those are good.” He reached for another one and Bex tried to bat his hand away.
“Noooo, not my medicine.”
***
Jay
“Who in their right mind left the two of you alone in here?” Chris called out over their laughter as he and Cindy came into the room.
“Ooooh,” Bex clutched at her side, heaving a breath. “People need to stop making me laugh.”
Crap. Jay instantly sobered, checking the numbers on her monitor like he knew what the hell he was even looking for. “Are you okay? Should I call someone?”
“I’m fine.” Bex waved him back into his seat. “I’m just sore. And I’d also probably be better if someone stopped stealing my fries.”
“Doctor’s orders were to rest, missy,” Cindy said sternly as she came over to press a kiss onto Bex’s forehead. “I’m heading home to tuck in the kids and grab some sleep, but I’ll be back first thing in the morning.”
“Okay,” Bex said. “Thank you for being here.”
“Oh, sweetheart, of course.” Cindy shot a look at Jay and Chris. “Take good care of her while I’m gone.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jay nodded.
Chris and Cindy gave them both hugs; Chris promising to be back after he walked Cindy out to the van. Jay was barely settled back in his chair when Will entered.
“That was a fast meal,” Jay said.
Will shrugged. “Connor wanted to get back up to check on Emery and make sure her post-op is going well. And I wanted to get back to Bex.”
“Awwwwww,” Bex said around a mouthful of fry.
“No idea why,” Will rolled his eyes with a laugh.
Jay’s phone pinged and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Well, you have good timing,” he said as he scanned the message. “Voight’s here with the detective working the case. She wants to talk to us.”
“Me?” Bex asked quietly.
“No, not yet,” Jay said, quick to reassure her. “Your interview can wait a day or two and you’ll have someone with you for it, don’t worry.”
“Go on and see what she has to say,” Will said to him. “I’m good to hang out here.”
Jay couldn’t lie; he wanted to hear what this detective had planned. “If you’re okay with it—”
“Go.” Bex shooed at him. “We’re fine.”
“Okay, okay.” He gave them both hugs and headed for the door, calling over his shoulder. “Let Mouse know when he gets back!”
Voight had taken over a conference room the next floor up so Jay took the stairs, not having the patience to wait for the elevator. Everyone was already gathered there along with a few people he didn’t recognize.
“Jay, c’mere a sec,” Voight waved him over. “This is Detective Medeiros. She’s handling the case.” A dark-haired woman with kind eyes standing beside him offered a hand to Jay.
“Nice to meet you,” Jay said as he shook it.
“Likewise.” She took a step back to look around the room. “Now that we’re all here, let’s get started.” Detective Medeiros made her way to the front of the group. “First of all, I want to thank the Intelligence Unit for your fast response and for securing the scene. Excellent work all around.”
There were a few solemn nods, but Jay knew they were all dealing with the same lingering feelings he was. Fast, but not fast enough.
“My team and I will be meeting with everyone for interviews,” she continued. “The name of the game here is thoroughness so be prepared for that.” A gritty smile spread across her face. “We’re going to nail this bastard to the wall.”
Jay straightened up from where he’d been leaning against the wall, a matching smile forming on his own face.
Welcome to the team, Detective Medeiros.
***
Sam
The nurse led them over to the ICU and showed them Emery’s room. Kira and Sam had been elected first visitors by their group and Sam was both grateful and terrified.
He wanted to see her. Wanted to be able to reassure himself that she was still here, but—
The way she’d looked the last time he’d seen her.
Feeling her ribs crack under his hands as he tried to force life back into her.
He wasn’t sure if he could if he could see her right know, knowing he’d been a part of the damage she faced.
Kira grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze and giving him no choice as she pulled him forward.
“Come on,” she whispered. “We need to let her know we’re here. Tell her she’s not alone.”
Sam nodded, managing to force his feet to follow Kira into the room because no matter what he was feeling, the last thing he wanted Emery to feel ever again was alone.
***
Will
Will settled into the chair beside Bex, chuckling at the dopey smile she gave him. “What?”
“You’re a good brother,” she said.
Maybe now.
Not always.
“Stop that,” she said. “Stop with the face. And the thinking.” She frowned at him. “You’re awesome. And you help me. And I love you.”
“You’re awesome too,” Will said, reaching out to give her arm a little squeeze. “And you help me.” His throat started to get tight. “And I love you, too.”
He still couldn’t believe they’d almost lost her today.
He didn’t even want to imagine what that would have been like—couldn’t begin to wrap his brain around it.
“Well, that’s good then,” Bex said. “I like that.”
“Me too, Bex.”
They sat quietly like that for a few minutes, Will holding on to her arm, letting himself be sure of the fact that she was there when Bex piped up again.
“Will?”
His lips twitched. He knew that tone. “Yeah, Bex?”
“Will you get me some water? My medicine made me thirsty.”
“Oh, really?” Will laughed. “Your ‘medicine’ made you thirsty. What a shock.”
“Willllllllll.”
“I’m going!” He stood up and grabbed the pitcher from beside her bed. “I’ll even get you some ice from the nurses’ lounge since you like it cold.”
“Yes,” Bex cheered. “Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Will was pretty sure he was going to be doing anything to put a smile on her face for the foreseeable future.
He was just grateful she was still here to smile at him.
***
Voight
Detective Medeiros had stepped away to take a call, but her raised voice caught his attention.
“Why the hell am I only being told about this now?” she snarled into her phone. “I want additional units sent here—no, you have no way of knowing that. He could already be here. Additional units. Now. We need to cover the entrances and do a sweep. Tell them to report to me as soon as they arrive.”
Voight stepped over to her as she ended the call with a frustrated huff. “Something I should know about?”
Her head snapped up and her lips pressed into a hard line. “Yes, actually,” she said. “You and your people.”
“Twenty-one,” Voight called out, waving them over. “With me.”
Once everyone was gathered, Detective Medeiros took a deep breath before addressing them. “That was the team at Lakeshore,” she said. “Ty Anderson escaped police custody.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Halstead exclaimed. “How—”
“Let her explain and then we’ll figure out a plan,” Voight said, holding up a hand.
“The officer guarding Anderson uncuffed him when he took him to the adjoining washroom,” Detective Medeiros said, ignoring their muttered curses at that bit of news. “Anderson got the jump on him and knocked him out. He stole his uniform, gagged him, and left him cuffed to a support railing. They estimate he’s been in the wind for at least thirty minutes.”
“Fuck,” Halstead muttered, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”
“Wait,” Burgess said. “Stole his uniform—does that mean—”
“He also has the officer’s gun, yes,” Medeiros confirmed.
What a friggin’ shitshow.
“You got extra units coming?” Voight asked her and Medeiros made a face.
“I’m working on it,” she said. “The Lakeshore team is pressing for units to go to cover the bus and train stations, but I don’t think he’s running away.”
“He wouldn’t,” Upton spoke up. “He’ll be coming here. For Emery.”
“We can’t afford to wait for the extra units,” Medeiros began.
Voight nodded. “Anything you need,” he said. “My team and I are here to help.”
“Let’s start a co-ordinated sweep and I’ll loop in hospital security,” she said.
His team instantly leapt into action, picking up on the plan and piecing out the floors for the sweep. Voight watched them dive in with grim satisfaction.
That asshole Ty wasn’t going to cause anymore damage.
Not if they had any say in it.
***
Mouse
Mouse sat at a table in the cafeteria with Ed, working his way through a BLT and what was probably his eighth cup of coffee of the day. He’d just finished filling Ed in on the details of everything that’d happened and Ed clearly needed a minute to let it all sink in so Mouse was taking the opportunity to eat.
Turned out he was actually pretty starving.
“Christ, Mouse,” Ed finally spoke. He blinked, shaking his head. “That is—wow, man. I’m glad Bex is going to be okay and I—I really hope her friend makes it. That’s some heavy shit.” Ed put his elbows on the table and leaned in. “How are you?”
That was a loaded question. Mouse slowly chewed his last bite as he thought it over.
“Still freaking out a bit,” he said, trying to be honest. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. And I—”
“You what,” Ed prompted him.
“I feel stupid,” Mouse confessed.
Ed frowned at him. “Why?”
“I know you guys said all of that stuff about how anything could happen to anyone, but I—I really never thought we’d be here…like this,” he said. “I always thought if anyone would be hurt, it was going to be me somehow. Me putting Bex through that. And now—not that I think Bex is putting me through this, you know—none of this is her fault—I just, I never really thought through being on this side of things and I-I don’t want to screw it up. I want to be there for her and help her and help her through this, but what if I make it worse or—”
“Mouse,” Ed interrupted him. “You’re not going to screw it up, bud. You’re already doing the most important thing. You’re here. That’s what matters most, okay?”
“I hate seeing her hurt,” Mouse said. “Not just in pain, but scared and upset, you know? I wish I could fix it. I know, I know—” He waved off whatever Ed was going to say next. “I know I can’t fix it and I know being here is helping her.” He sighed. “I just—I never want her to hurt.”
“One of the hardest parts of loving someone,” Ed said quietly. “You really are helping her just by being here though. I promise.” He eyed Mouse across the table. “It’s a stressful thing. How are you handling that side of it?”
Meaning, how was his sobriety handling it…
“It’s weird,” Mouse said and Ed gestured for him to go on. “Part of me was also sure something like this would send me spinning back off into, uh, bad habits, you know? But I don’t—the only urge I’m feeling is to be with Bex. Make sure she’s okay.”
“I get that.” Ed nodded. “And I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, but make sure you get your breaks in. Eat. Sleep. Don’t burn yourself out. If you guys need anything, we’re all happy to help out too. No question.”
“Bex was declaring what a nice guy you were before I came down here,” Mouse told him with a grin.
“Ah. Finally,” Ed said. “A sign of good taste from her.”
“Ha-ha.” Mouse tossed his napkin at him with a half-hearted throw. They didn’t chat for much longer—Mouse was itching to get back to Bex—and as they were leaving the caf, Ed handed over the tote bag he’d been carrying.
“From Lucy,” he explained as Mouse peeked inside. It looked like a bunch of…toiletries? “She thought you and Bex could use some supplies. We weren’t sure how long Bex would be here and you know how grungy you start to feel even after a day. There’s a whole bunch of stuff in there to freshen up or whatever. Socks too because Lucy said it’s always freezing in this place.”
Mouse couldn’t speak for a moment. It was times like this when it hit him how unbelievably lucky he’d been to find these people. “Thank you,” he managed to get out. “I—thank you, Ed. To you and Lucy. All of you.”
“We’re here for you, kid.” Ed patted his back with a gruff nod. “You and Bex.”
They walked out into the hallway and nearly ran into Kim. “Oh, Mouse,” she said, eyes going wide. “I didn’t realize you were down here and not with Bex—”
“What’s going on?” Alarm bells were going off in Mouse’s head. “What’s wrong?”
Kim got halfway through a story about Ty escaping custody and possibly heading their way before Mouse was running for the stairwell, Ed hot on his heels.
A floor away and out of the loop.
Again.
Mouse picked up the pace.
He wasn’t going to let anything stop him from getting to her this time.
***
Bex
The door to her room creaked open and Bex looked up. “Fastest water retrieval ever…” The words died on her lips when it wasn’t Will who came in.
It was Ty.
“What? How—”
“Nice to see you too, Bex,” he said, limping closer to the bed. He grinned ruefully at her. “Maybe not so nice since the last time we saw each other, you gave me this.” He reached up to poke at the bandage on the side of his head and Bex froze.
He had a gun in his hand.
She blinked at him, trying not to move. Now that she looked closer, he was wearing a patrol uniform that clearly didn’t fit him very well. What the hell was going on? How did he get away?
Oh, god, Will was coming back soon. He couldn’t hurt Will.
She had to get rid of him.
“What do you want, Ty?” Bex asked, her voice coming out a thousand times steadier than she felt.
“Emery,” he said, looming over her. “Where is she?”
No, no, no, Bex couldn’t let him anywhere near Emery.
“I—I don’t know—”
“Don’t lie to me, Bex.” Ty reached out, placing a hand where he’d kicked her and slowly pressed down. Hard.
She cried out, but Ty instantly placed his other hand over her mouth. The one holding the gun. Bex flinched back against the cold bite of metal against her lips as Ty shushed her.
“You need to be quiet, sweetheart,” he said, his thumb running through the tears running down her cheek. “We don’t want anyone coming in here and getting in the way.” He pushed at her side again and Bex stifled a scream as she felt something shift. “One more time. Where’s Emery?”
The sharpness of the pain cut through her foggy brain and Bex gathered herself. He was going to have to try and get through her and she’d already shown him she wouldn’t make it easy.
“She’s in the basement,” Bex snapped out. “Go down there and ask for the morgue.”
Ty stared at her before stepping back with a scoff. “Very funny. Try again.”
“Do you see me laughing?” Bex let her eyes fill with more tears which wasn’t hard considering the stabbing pain coming from her side. “You got exactly what you wanted. You killed her.”
Her heart pounded in her chest as Ty stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Interesting,” he said, tilting his head. “I can’t quite tell if this is the truth or if you’re sending me on a wild goose chase. Trying to buy yourself some time so your cop brother can swoop in and save the day again?”
“I’m not lying,” Bex whispered. She kept his stare, letting every ounce of hatred she felt for him show through. “You killed her, you fucking asshole.”
His eyes darkened and he grabbed her un-splinted arm, jerking her upright. “Shut up,” Ty growled when she yelped at the sudden movement. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll go on your little field trip, but you’re coming with me. Insurance for when the cops show up.” He dragged her forward and Bex couldn’t stop the cry that slipped out. “Come on. Get the fuck up.”
“What the hell are you doing?” a second voice rang through the room.
Will.
***
Will
Will’s heart pounded as he took in the scene he’d walked in on. Ty, trying to drag Bex out of her bed, with a gun in his hand.
A gun that was now pointed in Will’s direction.
“Walk away, man,” Ty said.
“Just go, Will,” Bex whispered. “Please, please, go.”
“Sorry,” Will said, carefully setting the water jug down on the nearest chair and then raising his hands in the air. “But I don’t think I can do that.”
“Then you’re going to stay right there while Bex and I walk out that door,” Ty snapped out. He had an iron grip on Bex’s arm and kept jerking her forward, trying to get her on her feet. The leads connected to the monitor were getting pulled and her heart rate was going up. Alarms were going to go off any second sending an unsuspecting nurse their way.
“Where exactly are you two headed?” he asked, trying to wrack his brain for the safest way of getting out of this mess.
He wasn’t coming up with many options.
“Bex is going to show me the morgue,” Ty said. “She says that’s where Emery is. That true, Doc?”
Oh, smart, amazing Bex, thinking on her feet. “Yeah, it’s true,” Will said, frowning at Ty. “She didn’t make it through surgery. But…listen…”
Bex wasn’t the only one who could think on her feet.
“Taking Bex with you,” Will said. “That’s not going to get you to the morgue.” He shook his head, pointing at Bex. “You try dragging a patient down the hall like that, you’re going to get stopped before you get to the elevator.”
“So?” Ty gripped Bex closer. “Only need her for a shield anyway.”
“How about a shield and a cover story?” Will gestured to himself. “No one’s going to ask questions about an officer walking down the hall with a doctor. I can get you there.”
He’d figure out the rest on the way.
“Will,” Bex gasped out. “No.”
“You’ll get me down there,” Ty repeated. Slowly. Maybe his head injury was catching up with him. Will could try and use that in his favour.
“I can,” Will agreed. “On one condition; you don’t hurt Bex.”
Ty thought it over for a few seconds before he released Bex’s arm and shoved her back on the bed. “Deal,” he said. Will didn’t even get to breathe a sigh of relief before Ty was swinging his arm out and bringing the butt of the gun down over Bex’s head.
She slumped against the pillow, unconscious as a trickle of blood flowed down onto the fabric.
“You said you wouldn’t hurt her,” Will lurched forward.
He was stopped in his tracks by Ty leveling the gun at him and clicking off the safety. “Be happy I didn’t kill her,” he said. “Now move.”
Ty stepped towards him, shoving the gun into Will’s side and propelling him toward the door. Will opened it and they moved out into the hallway.
As he’d predicted, no one gave them a second look.
This time of night, there weren’t too many people around anyway, thank goodness. There was the faint sound of voices coming down the hall and Will picked up the pace. He didn’t want anyone else caught up in whatever was about to happen.
The two of them walked quickly down the hall toward the elevators. It was dinging before Will had a chance to touch the call button and the doors opened up—
To reveal Connor inside.
No, no, no.
He smiled when he saw Will; his greeting falling away as he spotted Ty next. Confusion quickly gave way to anger as Connor recognized him. “You—”
No.
“Enough of this shit,” Ty said, pointing the gun at Connor’s head.
Time slowed down for Will.
No. not him. no. no. no—
 His body was moving before his mind could catch up with it and he grabbed Ty’s arm, shoving it down as he threw himself between Connor and the gun.
Hoping, praying he was fast enough.
***
The crack of a gunshot echoed down the hallway.
Click here to read Chapter Six. Click here to read Chapter Seven.
Click here to read That Herrmann/Halstead DNA on ao3:
And here is the tag list (let me know if you wish to be added or removed):
@sorry-i-spaced, @thegirlwhowishedeveryonelived, @ivyalmighty, @thewannabewriter, @lexhalstead3, @multifandomgrl08, @foxes-and-cats, @sensitivemallysix, @thebewingedjewelcat, @emme-looou, @trulylavandedarling
33 notes · View notes
babybatscreationsv2 · 2 years
Text
The Scent of His Cologne ch3
Marvel | Starker
When Peter was twelve years old he ran away from home. If only he would  have known that he wouldn’t see his father again for eight years. Now  he’s broke, living in an apartment the size of a closet and working  three jobs to get by. When he meets a handsome stranger at his weekend  job he thinks his luck might finally be starting to turn.
Warnings below
Peter skipped out on the club the following weekend. He didn't need the money and he didn't want to risk his father showing up again. He stayed home, under his blankets, crying. You would think after eight years it wouldn't hurt so much, but the fear, the betrayal, the abandonment, they were all still there. He barely ate anything. He didn't leave his bed. He just cried it out until it was time to return to the cafe. On Monday morning, Peter left his apartment and put on his usual smile. He was going to make the best of today just like he did every day. Just like he had made the best of everything that had come before. But there on the curb in front of his building was a shiny black omen on doom. His smile faded away. Happy Hogan stepped out of the car. He held his hands out in peace. "It's just me, kid." He walked around the car. The pain in his eyes broke Peter's heart. He stood there and let Happy come to him. Strong arms wrapped around him and he fell into his chest. "Happy," he sobbed. "It's okay, kid. You're okay." Peter wrapped his arms around him. He almost smiled. He wasn't as big as he remembered. Happy used to look like a giant to him. Now they were about the same height. "I can't believe we found you," Happy sighed. "I'm sorry it took so long." Peter sniffled. "It might have helped if you'd actually looked." Happy pushed him back with his hands on his shoulders. His expression was stunned. "If we actually looked? Peter I was out all night looking for you. One minute past curfew without hearing from you and I was out searching. I didn't come back until almost noon the next day and that was only because Tony threatened me. He said I wouldn't be any good to you if I didn't get any sleep. We both regretted me coming back at all. What if a minute more out on the street would have been enough to spot you?" He shook his head. His eyes teared up but he sniffed and straightened up. "Where have you been, kid? Tony said something about a strip club?" He raised his eyebrows in a scowl. "You're not being trafficked are you? You can tell me. I'll make them regret it." Peter laughed. "It's nothing like that, Hap. But, you said you looked for me?" "Yeah. Of course I did! Are you kidding? I can't believe you just asked me that. Of course I did. Me and nearly all of the boys. We were out searching for weeks. Tony- your poor father. He wouldn't eat for days. He lost so much weight he looked like a corpse. We had to threatened to call a doctor." Peter shook his head. "That's not true." Happy sighed. "Tony said you wouldn't believe me. He said you were too angry and hurt and I don't blame you. Of course you would be, but I'm begging you, kid. At least let him explain." Peter stared at the sidewalk. It still hurt so badly, but what Happy said didn't make any sense. He saw them. They were practically celebrating that he was gone. Tony was happy. He had been laughing. He hadn't wanted him. "You really looked for me?" Happy's frown deepened. "Tony wants to explain it all to you himself. I shouldn't say anything, but since you're still not convinced... it's about Obediah." Peter was stunned. "What about him?" "I promised Tony I'd let him tell you. He said he wanted to put all of the pieces together before he made any decisions." "Happy, what did Obediah do?" Obediah was a friend of Tony's father. He had been loyal to the family for over fifty years now. When he told Peter that Tony didn't want him, he had believed him without question just as his father had and his grandfather. He didn't want to hope that Obediah had lied, but if there was any chance that Peter could have his dad back... he couldn't resist. Happy stepped back. He grabbed the car door handle and pulled it open. "Come home and get your answers." ---------- Peter texted Gwen and let her know he'd be late. She chewed him out for it, but he just apologized and turned off his phone. He didn't need anything else to worry about. His mind was already too busy. They pulled into the garage beneath Stark Tower. Happy parked next to the elevator. No less then ten of Tony's people stood guard. One of them ran to get Peter's door. "Welcome home, Mr. Stark," they said. "Thank you," Peter said, but it didn't feel right. He wasn't really a Stark anymore. Yet, as he stepped into the elevator next to Happy, he was home. As he watched the numbers on the display grow Peter's throat began to feel thick. At least Tony wasn't at the club tonight. He wasn't sure he could handle seeing it again. He avoided the street it was on like the plague. He didn't feel angry this time. Just scared. What if he was wrong? What if he got rejected again? He shouldn't have come. It wasn't worth the pain. "I can't do this," he breathed. Happy put a hand on his shoulder. "Your father loves you, Peter. That might be hard to believe right now, but you can trust me." His words didn't stop him from feeling sick. He felt terrified. As if he were running for his life but he was standing still. Happy's hand stay on his shoulder and Peter focused on that. He trusted Happy. Happy would keep him safe. He always... almost always, had. Peter swallowed back his tears. He could face his father with tears in his eyes. He wasn't a kid anymore. It was time they talked like men. The elevator stopped at the top, but the doors didn't open until Happy punched in the code. It was still the same. Peter's birthday but backwards. His dad had come up with that when Peter started taking off on his own. Well, when he thought he was going on his own. Later he found out that Happy followed him everywhere. He had only ever stopped because Peter made him. Guilt twisted his stomach. Happy must have been worried sick when he took off. The doors slid open and Happy stepped out, but Peter hesitated. "Hey, Happy?" "Yeah, kid?" He looked over his shoulder. "I'm sorry." Happy looked into his eyes for a moment. Then he nodded. "It's okay, Peter." He followed Happy out. The doors rolled shut behind him. Every step forward he took was heavy and slow. Then he was in the den, standing in front of the electric fire place, surrounded by modern furniture whose coldness was broken up by family photos and the red and gold painting over the mantel. Tony stood tall in the frame with Peter in front of him. His head only came up to his chest. Tony's expression was strong and protective while Peter smiled with shining innocence. The the painter had captured them in that moment so perfectly. Now it just broke his heart. He hoped it hurt every time his father looked at it. Finally he let his eyes move down to where his dad sat on the couch. The glass in his hand was empty, like he'd drained it and then forgotten. Like his guilt was too distracting. "Peter," he said. Peter closed his eyes. He'd missed his voice. He really had. Yet, it sounded so familiar. Peter cleared his throat. Then he sat down on the loveseat opposite his father. "Happy said I should hear you out. So, here I am." Tony nodded and sat forward. He put the glass on the stand beside him. "I'm sorry, Peter-" "I don't want to hear it. Just tell me what you needed to tell me." Peter glanced down at the floor. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to face him without crying after all. He nodded again and took a breath. "The night you disappeared, Happy called me. He said you were gone and he couldn't find you anywhere. I assume you remember, I had a meeting that evening at the club. You had asked to come along, but I was always afraid things would go poorly and you would get caught in the middle of it. I would do anything to keep you safe, Peter." He paused, but Peter said nothing. His eyes were pleading. "As soon as Happy called, I sent a group after you. I called your phone a dozen times and when you didn't answer I sent everyone. I ran home but you weren't there and you'd left your phone. I knew wherever you went you didn't want to be found." Tony swallowed. His hand scratched against the leg of his pants. "I was out all night. We all were. I must have threatened half the city, but we couldn't find any evidence that you were kidnapped and no one had seen you. Obediah suggested that you must have ran away. I knew he was right, but I couldn't believe it. I couldn't understand why you would do something like that." Peter looked away. His face burned. The only answer he could give was so childish, but it wasn't his turn to talk. He wanted to hear the story. "I went home as the sun came up. We kept searching the next day. I had people out looking twenty-four-seven, but I knew we wouldn't find you until you wanted to be found. You're my son after all," he smiled. "Then I was back at the club for dinner with Fisk and his family before they left town. It was agony, sitting there laughing with Fisk's son while you were still missing, but my only hope was that you would come home." His voice broke and his eyes began to water. Peter couldn't remember ever seeing his father cry. He almost stood up and went to his side. "Then Obediah came in. Just after Fisk left. He said you were dead." Tony sucked in a breath. "He said he found you, but he was too late. He said that he saw you get shot. And your body fell into the river. We searched for days. We never found a body. I go out there every so often as if you might wash up on the bank some day. But here you are, alive. Perfect." "You thought I was dead?" Tony nodded. "I've been mourning you this whole time. When I found out you were working at the Penthouse I couldn't believe it. I thought you must have been trafficked and Obediah was in on it, but Bruce swore to me that you had come to him." Peter nodded. "I did. I needed the money and I'm a good dancer." His dad's face turned red. Peter rolled his eyes. "I'm an adult now. I can do whatever I want." "Of course..." Tony swallowed. After a moment he recovered from whatever thought had set him off. "Why did you run away, Peter?" Peter stared off at the wall. His eyes stung as the memories came back. He'd expected to have this conversation so long ago. "I felt ignored. You kept pushing me away. You said you wanted me to take over the business some day, but when I tried to get involved and make you proud you kept shutting me down. I thought that if I ran away you would search for me. Then I could see how much you cared, how much you loved me, and I would feel better. But when I came to the club to find you, Obediah stopped me." Tony straightened. His expression hardened. It made Peter shiver. He knew that look. Obediah was still alive, but he wouldn't be for long. Most importantly, it was a look that meant his father truly did love him. That Obediah would die slowly and painfully for keeping them apart. Good. "He told me that you weren't looking for me. That you had only sent some rookie after me and everyone else was home. Then he took me inside. It must have been during your meeting with the Fisk's. I saw you with Richard. I didn't recognize him. You looked so happy with him and after what Obediah said it was easy to believe you didn't care about me." "What did he tell you?" His throat felt thick. He struggled to get the words out. "That you weren't looking for me because you had already replaced me." "Peter, I could never replace you. You're my whole world. You always have been." His eyes welled with tears. "Come here, Peter." Without hesitating, Peter stood and threw himself across the space and into his father's arms. His hold was tight around him, squeezing him to his chest. They both sobbed, agonized by the years they had lost.
69 notes · View notes
starkerlove · 8 months
Note
Hiii I have a short story ider
Ok. Tony's alive after Endgame i guess 4 this?
I was thinking maybe he could comfort Peter after aunt may dies. Something fluffy with some smut.
Thx!
Always | Peter x Tony (Starker)
NSFW
"Baby... I know it hurts... God... How I know it hurts... But you have to breathe" Tony begged Peter, holding him by his shoulders while the younger one sobbed.
"I can't... I can't breathe... My chest hurts" Peter cried.
Tony pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly and applying pressure over his body, knowing it was a good anxiety relieving technique.
They stood like that for a long time, until Peter was asleep in Tony's arms. The older brunette took the younger one back to bed, holding him through the night.
When Peter woke up, he was warm and cozy in Tony's embrace. He smiled softly and kissed the older man's cheek "I don't know what I'd do without you Tones... You're my rock..." He murmured against his goatee.
"Morning, baby" Tony yawned "Do you feel any better?"
"Yeah... I do... I just want to forget... Please? Will you help me?" He rubbed Tony's chest.
"Are you sure?" Tony asked concerned.
"Yes, fuck me until I can't remember my name" Peter begged.
Tony kissed him deeply, hands roaming over the toned body, grabbing their clothes and removing them with ease.
He grabbed a lube from the bedside table and spread it all over his fingers, slowly pushing them inside Peter's entrance. "Sh... It's going to be okay... Breathe"
Peter moaned and did his best to relax. The pain mixed with pleasure was the best way to relieve his anxious mind, he was sure of that.
"Fuck... Fuck me... Please... I need you so bad..." He tugged Tony's hair to bring him closer so they could kiss. They kissed until they ran out of air. Peter opened his legs, inviting Tony's cock to fill him up.
Tony didn't waste time. He pushed himself inside of Peter and moved fast "Harder" Peter asked "More" as Tony pumped faster and harder, holding the boy's hips with strength, leaving marks on his pale skin until he came deeply in Peter's ass. While the younger one came untouched and laid back exhausted "I love you..." He whispered.
"I'm always gonna be here for you, baby"
44 notes · View notes