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hale-13 · 3 years

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Conditioned

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 16 - Touch Starved

“Can I take a shower?” Peter blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line felt the intense need to get cleaned - broken arm be damned.

Words: 2084, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Helen Cho

TW: Literally None - Just Fluff

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

“Well Peter, I see no reason why you should have to stay here any longer as long as you promise to actually rest and allow yourself to heal,” Helen said firmly but with a smile toward him and Peter nearly sagged with obvious relief.

“Oh thank god,” he said he’d, already struggling in his attempts to climb out of the MedBay bed he had been sentenced to since the day before with some help from Tony. He flinched a little as he tweaked his sore arms, moving the wrong way, but trying to keep his muscles as relaxed as possible to prevent any further damage. His recovery is going to be annoying enough as it is without making it worse.

In his most recent fight against the Shocker the night before, he had caught a direct hit on his right arm which had successfully and cleaning broken his radius and ulna in two. In his haste to get away and then catch himself on a poorly shot strand of webbing he had dislocated his left shoulder. The pain had been so stunning he had barely been able to finish webbing up Shocker and get away before the police showed up.

It probably didn’t do much to help the injuries when he had swung back to the Tower but he had been numb and delirious by that point so he probably wasn’t really thinking straight. He does remember Tony not being super impressed with him when he nearly passed out as soon as he landed.

“I’m serious about resting,” Dr. Cho warned him as she helped him settle his, still sore and recently reduced, arm into a sling. “You need to take it easy for at least another few days or you’ll risk re-injury and possibly surgery.”

“Oh that shouldn’t be a problem,” Tony said breezily. “I have no problem cuffing him to a bed if I have to.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, trying to stand and balance without using either of his arms – it was much harder than he thought it would be – and already trying to edge toward the door. Tony just quirked up an eyebrow at him.

“Your aunt, definitely against her better judgement and with an amazing amount of misplaced trust, is letting you stay here with me so you don’t get into any more trouble during your convalescence so if you could just work with me for a couple of days here that would be much appreciated,” he told Peter very pointedly with a final wave at Helen as he herded Peter toward the elevator at the end of the hall.

Peter just rolled his eyes at his mentors dramatics but allowed himself to be directed – to tell the absolute truth, his arms still hurt pretty badly and he wasn’t really looking forward to his oral painkillers (that made him sleepy and emotional) and his anti-inflammatories (that made him into a right bastard if he was being honest) and trying to convince Tony that he didn’t need either. He wasn’t super confident about his success rate with that. “Can I take a shower?” He blurted out, shifting uncomfortably. He felt gross from the dried sweat and the bloody residue that was left on his scalp and around his hair line.

“You know that you can’t get your cast wet,” Tony reminded him holding up a hand when Peter opened his mouth to interrupt. “I mean, I suppose I can wrap it in a bag or something if you really want to shower that bad.”

“Yes please,” Peter eagerly agreed. Ever since the Bite all of his senses had been more sensitive but none more so than his sense of smell and he wasn’t a particularly big fan of the fact that he could currently smell himself. It made his skin crawl and was completely disgusting.

“Alright then,” Tony nodded. “Shower first and then a movie marathon slash prescribed nap directly after. Do we have a deal then Mr. Parker?”

“Only if we can get pizza for dinner later,” Peter bartered as the elevator opened up on Tony’s floor of the compound. “With pineapple this time,” he continued with a wrinkled nose, “the olives you got last time were disgusting!”

“You have astonishingly terrible taste but yes fine. Pizza later.” Tony nodded, herding both of them into the kitchen with a single-minded determination. The Wal-Mart and cling wrap cast protection apparatus Mr. Stark rigged together left a fair amount to be desired in the looks department but was completely functional when it came to water-proofing which was good enough for Peter.

It took some skill to slip away from his mentor but Peter was soon slipping into his room, struggling to get out of the sling on his own and finally succeeding. It made him wince from the extra pain it caused but it didn’t overshadow the relief of doing it on his own. He knew his limits from previous dislocations and knew that it was crucial to not overdue it while the joint was healing or he risked the chance of re-injury and, as Dr. Cho had reminded him earlier, surgery.

With a grimace, Peter rested that arm across his stomach and used his bagged up right arm to pull his shirt over his head. He was barely able to manage it when it pulled at his sore muscles and broken bones. Maybe he should use a button down or zippered hoodie instead.

Thanks to FRIDAY (bless her seriously), the water of his shower was already running and warmed up to his preferred setting of skin melting and he was quick to turn his back into the spray and luxuriate under it for an extended time. The high pressured water felt amazing on his back and shoulders, loosening up the knots and clenched muscles and providing relief.

“You doing okay in there kid? You drown yet?” Tony asked, knocking on the door and indiscernible amount of time later and knocking Peter out of his stupor.

“I’m good!” Peter called back, hurriedly reaching out for his body wash and cloth painfully and cleaning himself up to the best of his – limited – ability. By the time he was ready to wash his hair and hairline he felt exhausted and achy despite the excellent water pressure and all the good work it and the heat had done to relieve the pain in his shoulder and back. “Fuck,” he cursed, trying to lift his arm above chest level and spectacularly failing, finding himself unable to without making his muscles seize.

Peter was pretty bendy due to his powers so he attempted a couple different contortions to reach his head before just flat out giving up, turning off the water and taking his towel off the heated towel rack installed in the bathroom (rich people – seriously). It took longer than Peter cared to admit, but he was able to dry and dress himself in sweats and a zippered hoodie. He was even able to shuck the bag off his cast with little struggle so he was feeling pretty decent when he ventured into the living room with his hair sopping wet and dripping onto his shoulders since he wasn’t able to adequately dry it. Whatever. It would dry on its own eventually.

“And what’s all this supposed to be?” Tony asked, glancing up from his phone and wrinkling his nose but not moving from where he was leaned against the counter in the kitchen. “Why are you dripping all over my floor?”

Peter fought off a blush and tried to hunch his shoulders, stopping when it hurt. “I couldn’t reach up to get my hair,” he grumbled, failing to completely push down his blush.

“I guess that explains all the blood still caked in there,” Tony hummed, leaning over to move the dampened curls around to look at the blood still matting some of his hair together and crusting up around his scalp. “Well that’s pretty easily remedied. Welcome to the salon Underoos,” Tony said, pulling over one of the barstools and setting it in front of the kitchen sink, gesturing for Peter to sit.

“Uh… what?” Peter questioned, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I’ll wash your hair for you,” Tony clarified, looking pointedly between Peter and the stool again. “Just sit down while I go and grab some things!” And, with that, he took off in the direction of the bedrooms and associated en suites.

Peter, still pretty confused but (mostly) trusting his mentor, sat down unsteadily on the stool just as Tony came back around the corner with an armful of towels, shampoo and conditioner bottles along with a wide-toothed comb and an expensive looking hair dryer. He triumphantly arranged everything on the counter next to the deep sink and wrapped one of the towels around Peter’s neck. “Lean back buddy,” Tony said, using a finger to push on the center of Peter’s forehead until he gave in and let himself be pushed back to lean back with his head in the sink.

Doing his best to ignore the weirdness of it all (weirdness was pretty common around Tony Stark after all), Peter closed his eyes and crossed his arms across his stomach as the water turned on. He tensed up a little when he felt fingers start dragging through his hair but was quick to relax and release the tension in his body under the careful massage of his mentor’s hands through his hair and the warm water cascading across his scalp. He let out a little hum of contentment.

Tony let out a soft chuckle, squirting a healthy dollop of the shampoo into his hands and lathering it up before applying it to Peter’s hair, working through the snarls and tangles with care and scrubbing the leftover blood out of the curls. Peter went nearly boneless under his ministrations and Tony would definitely be lying if he said he didn’t milk the washing and conditioning portion at least a little bit. He knew that Peter had to be feeling pretty miserable and it settled something buried deep inside him to provide just a little extra comfort.

All too soon, though, he had rinsed out the last of the conditioner leaving Peter’s hair clean and dripping as he turned off the water. Peter made no move to get up or to open his eyes, breathing deeply and seemingly on the very verge of sleep, so Tony grabbed one of the towels and started to wring the extra water out of the kid’s hair, running the towel through it cautiously. “Just need you to sit up for a second here kiddo okay? Then you can nap, scout’s honor.”

Peter grunted and grumbled but did slit his eyes open and let Tony help him sit up, swaying back and forth and little on the stool and Tony ran the towel through his hair a couple more times to really get rid of the water as much as possible. He dropped the towel on the counter in exchange for the comb and the hair dryer. He ran the comb through the mess a few times before starting the hair dryer up. Peter practically melted as the warmed air fluffed up his curls. It didn’t take long to dry at all and, by the time he was done, Peter was listing forward nearly into Tony’s chest.

“Couch or bed buddy?” Tony asked with a fond smile, running his hands through Peter’s warmed and clean hair.

“Couch,” Peter muttered, leaning into his petting and making Tony’s chest warm up. This kid… god. He ended up supporting most of Peter’s weight but was able to quickly get him lying face down on the supple cushions with his head pillowed on one of the throw pillows resting on Tony’s lap, the ratty fleece blanket Tony kept draped over they back of the couch draped over him and a heating pad resting across his healing shoulder.

“Let’s start a Star Wars marathon FRI. Volume at thirty percent,” FRIDAY was quiet as she dimmed the lights and started the movie, the familiar logo and music making Peter relax even further into the couch, completely gone. As the opening theme ended and the camera panned to the shots of Leia’s ship, he felt Mr. Stark’s hand rest on his back, digging into the knotted muscles of his back.

It maybe wasn’t ideal to mess up his arms so much but, Peter thought, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his recovery.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump16 #Prompt: Touch Starved #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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flourgirl · 3 years

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When We First Met

Part I of “The Unbelievers” series

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You’re the new intern at Stark Industries and you’ve made it your mission to figure out just how Peter Parker became Mr. Stark’s favorite.

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: A slow burn with a few curse words thrown around.

A/N: This fic helped drag me out of my writer’s block, so I really hope you guys like it! Happy reading <3

“Have you been talking for a million years? Did I go deaf because you're burnin' my ears? Spare the details, it's unnecessary I got places to be and people to see” -It’s Not All About You, Lawrence

The first time you met Peter Parker, he was actually tolerable. It was your first day at Stark Industries, and you had just gotten your job assignment as Pepper’s assistant’s assistant. In other words, you were about to spend your days making coffee runs and changing out ink cartridges.

“Hey, uh, do you need some help?” he had asked as you struggled to carry two boxes of printer paper all the way to the copy room on the other side of the building.

“Yeah, for sure,” you huffed, not being able to see who your savior was over the stack of boxes. When he took both of the boxes out of your arms, you were met with his dopey grin and wavy, brown hair.

He’s cute, you thought. But all you dared to say was, “Thank you so much. I felt like I was about to die.”

The two of you shared a laugh at your dramatics before you continued walking.

“No problem. I was headed this way, anyway,” he replied nonchalantly. You caught yourself staring at how light he made the boxes seem. He must’ve been a lot stronger than his baggy, oversized sweatshirt made him look. “Are you new? I’ve never seen you around before.”

Peter had to slow his pace down a lot to let you catch up to him. He wasn’t used to taking casual strolls around the office, always having to run over to wherever Mr. Stark was at a moment’s notice.

“It’s my first day, actually,” you admitted, offering him a weak smile. You weren’t much of a conversationalist, especially not when it came to cute guys who looked that good in sweatshirts with dorky math jokes printed across the front of them. “Are you an intern, too?”

“Yeah! I’ve been working here since I was fifteen,” he told you, leaning against the doorway of the copy room. “But I don’t do anything too important. Mostly just fly under the radar and do what Mr. Stark tells me to.”

Your eyes widened. “Whoa, you work directly with Mr. Stark? You must be one important guy.”

Peter blushed, not knowing how to backtrack out of the hole he had just dug for himself. “Uh, not really. We’re not like friends or anything. It’s just, Mr. Stark knows about all of my science fair projects and—”

“You aren’t making yourself sound any less impressive,” you interrupted, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes at him as he set the boxes down on the counter. “So, Einstein, who are you?”

“Parker. Peter. Shit, sorry, it’s Peter Parker. I have to go now. Bye!” he blurted out, running from the room before you could even tell him your name.

A girl who looked about your age slipped into the copy room, startling you out of your confused state. “Were you just talking to Peter Parker?”

“Uh, yeah. Why?” you questioned, hoping she’d have some sort of explanation for why he acted the way he did.

“He’s basically Mr. Stark’s surrogate child,” she said, sipping one of the many coffees that she was carrying. “I’m Grace, by the way.”

“Y/N. What do you mean by ‘surrogate child?’”

“It’s like, everywhere Mr. Stark goes, so does Peter. That thing with you and him was basically the first time any of us had ever seen him next to a printer, and he’s only talked to a handful of us once or twice. Guess he’s just too busy being the golden boy to associate with the less important interns.”

Of course. The first chance at a cute office romance that you get is squashed by the fact that the guy you like is an antisocial jerk. But that’s not how he seemed to you, so why was his reputation with the other interns so bad?

----------------

It had been one week since you started working, and every day you learned more and more reasons why everyone hated Peter Parker. He didn’t make coffee runs and nobody had seen him at an intern meeting in the last year. And yet, somehow, he was the CEO’s favorite. It was annoying, to say the least.

You actually hadn’t seen Peter around ever since you had first met, which only helped to confirm the rumors that he’d rather eat lunch alone than be forced to talk to any of you. You hated that even when Grace or anyone else wasn’t dragging Peter through the mud, you were still thinking about his stupidly adorable Queens accent and whatever the hell he could be doing that was so important.

Of course, the next time Peter decided to grace the cafeteria with his presence was when Mr. Stark had just arrived back from a business trip to Germany. Figures that he would take his favorite on the trip of a lifetime. Your bitterness grew as you imagined Peter relaxing in the company’s private jet, but it wasn’t until he held up the elevator that you really started to hate him.

“Hey,” he panted, slipping into the elevator just before the doors closed. Once again, your hands were full, this time with a stack of folders meant for Pepper to look over. “You’re that new girl. Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

“You didn’t,” you noted, turning to look away from him in the hopes that he’d get the message. You weren’t interested in giving him the time of day.

“Did I do something to upset you?” He rubbed the back of his neck while he waited for the answer that you didn’t plan on giving him.

The awkward silence between the two of you was starting to feel especially long when the worst thing possible happened. Loud creaking noises came from the elevator shaft, shaking the two of you as the cables screeched to a halt.

“You have got to be kidding me!” you groaned, setting the files down to press the emergency call button. You had luckily never actually had to use one of these things, but that also meant that you had no idea how to work it.

“Hi, I’m here with another intern and we’re currently stuck in the elevator on the west wing, between floors four and five. Could you send someone over to get us out, please?” You pleaded into the little phone, bitterness lacing your voice.

“What do you mean it’ll take two hours? What do you expect us to do, sit here and play checkers?” You could feel your face heating up as you panicked over the fact that you were going to be stuck in this metal death trap for a while.

Peter walked over to you, leaning against the wall of the elevator to take over the conversation before your attitude extended the wait to three hours. You begrudgingly handed the phone over to him.

“Hey, could you put Mr. Stark on the line?” You couldn’t hear what the person was saying, but you could guess that it wasn’t very positive.

“Well, tell him it’s Peter and…” He looked at you, mouthing for you to give your name.

“Y/N,” you muttered, continuing to pace back and forth as the tiny box that you two were stuffed in started to feel smaller and smaller with each minute that passed.

“Y/N. Five minutes? Alright, thank you so much, Alice! Have a great day.” You were irritated by his effortless charm with others, despite how awkward you knew him to be.

“Um… thank you.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly.

“Are you okay? You seem a little on edge.”

“I’m fine! I just… really need to get out of here.” You wanted to keep pacing back and forth, but you were too busy hyperventilating to think about moving your legs. Peter watched as your eyes started to water, not sure about what he could do to make you calm down.

He stepped closer towards you, which only made you feel even more anxious than you already were. You didn’t want him to see you like this.

“Y/N,” Peter whispered, wrapping his arms around you. You looked up at him in surprise, your eyes probably red and puffy from crying.

“What are you doing?” you sobbed, leaning in closer to him. It was comforting, but you were so embarrassed that you were crying in the arms of a complete stranger.

“Well, uh, I know that hugging someone can release endorphins, more specifically dopamine and serotonin, that calm them down. And it relaxes the muscles, and I know that when babies hear their mom’s heartbeats they feel better, so I just thought—”

“Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“Please stop talking.” You leaned into the hug, taking in the clean smell of his sweater and how warm he was. Little by little, your breathing slowed down.

“Okay,” he agreed, holding you tighter, one of his hands gently stroking your hair in the comfortable silence that had filled the elevator.

You almost forgot about where you were when the elevator jolted upwards, causing you to wriggle out of Peter’s grip and pick your files back up off the ground. When the doors opened, you scrambled out without a word.

----------------

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” Peter began, fiddling with one of the many decorations around Tony’s office. “I… I think that, maybe, I should be doing, you know, more intern-y things around here.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow, looking up from his computer screen. “Let me get this right, kid. You’re asking me to give you random tasks to do around the office?”

“Uh, yes?” Peter answered, unsure if he had just made a big mistake or not. His confidence was dwindling by the second.

“Now, why on earth would I do that? What if we need Spider-Man for a mission, but Peter Parker is too busy getting some jackass down in HR a peppermint mocha latte?”

“Well, I mean… I just… Some of the other interns are getting kind of mad that you don’t make me run errands or come to any of their meetings, and I’m just worried that they’re getting a little bit too suspicious that I’m always with you and—”

“If I say yes, will you please stop rambling?” Tony groaned, returning to finish typing whatever Peter had just interrupted.

“Yes,” Peter squeaked. For once in his life, his inability to stop talking had been beneficial.

“Fine. Here, go sit downstairs and take the staples out of these packets. And then re-staple them.”

Peter immediately perked up again, excited to be someone other than Spider-Man to Tony. “Right away, Mr. Stark. Thank you so much! Bye!” He quickly ran out of the office and downstairs to where he knew some of the interns liked to have their lunch breaks.

“Is that Peter?” you heard Grace ask in between bites of her panini. Your head perked up to see his head tilted down, making only his soft brown curls visible from where you were sitting.

You squinted, wondering what kind of task had him so engrossed, and why he was sitting over here. He never sat here, especially not while you were eating lunch. Carlos, who interned in accounting, glanced over at Peter before taking his seat across from you.

“Parker sure does seem interested in removing staples all of a sudden,” he laughed, unwrapping his tortilla wrap from its aluminum foil.

You couldn’t believe it. He was just pretending to be doing something. “That’s it? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Before your friends could stop you, you were marching over to Peter’s table, tapping your foot as you waited for him to notice you.

You cleared your throat, finally catching his attention. “Hi, Y/N,” he grinned, looking back down to meticulously bend back the small metal arms of the staple, freeing the sheets of paper from each other.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking out staples.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Some weird way of you proving that Mr. Stark totally doesn’t give you special treatment or something?” Peter got nervous, realizing how quickly you had caught onto his ruse. He needed a way to distract you and fast.

“You, um, you look pretty today,” he told you, not even looking up to meet your cold stare.

A blush started to spread across your cheeks when you realized what he had said. Surely the quick glance he had just given you wasn’t enough for him to actually know what you looked like today.

“Nice try, Parker. You barely even looked at me. Showering me with false compliments isn’t going to stop me from figuring out what the hell you’re actually up to around here.” You countered, satisfied that his plan wasn’t working as well as he wanted it to.

“Didn’t need to look. You’re pretty every day,” Peter replied calmly. He didn’t even realize what he was saying until it had come out of his mouth. It was true. He thought you looked nice every time he saw you, but you didn’t seem to take his compliments very well, and so he never told you.

But you didn’t know that he actually meant it. He’s just messing with you, you reasoned, regaining your composure.

“Whatever,” you huffed. “Just some advice: next time, you should try to come up with something better than taking out the staples of packets that clearly never had any problems in the first place.”

He peered up to see you turn on your heels and walk back to your friends, who had been carefully watching the two of you this entire time.

“Was that a lovers’ quarrel?” Carlos teased as you sat back down. You rolled your eyes at him, and Grace giggled at your insistence that nothing was going on between you and Peter.

“Yeah, it looked like things were getting a little hot and heavy,” she added.

“Shut up, you guys. We definitely are not lovers,” you assured them, digging back into your grilled cheese.

“Sure. So if there’s nothing going on, then why did Yuri tell me that he saw you guys making out in the elevator on the security cameras?” Carlos asked, making you snap your head at him mid-bite, your eyes widening.

Fucking Yuri. All of those security interns were just nosy and power-hungry, but you’d have to deal with him another time.

“We were not making out! We were just stuck in the elevator and—”

“You guys decided to have a romantic embrace?” Grace questioned, only further exasperating you. “Come on, Y/N, just admit it. You have a crush on Peter.”

“No, I don’t! I wouldn’t date Peter if he were the last guy on the planet,” you yelled, suddenly aware of how loud you had become.

You looked around the room to see many confused faces staring back at you, including Peter’s, which had a frown on it.

You watched as he collected his stack of papers and walked out of the room, staring so hard at the floor that he almost ran into two women who were walking by.

“Geez, Y/N. We were only joking. It’s okay,” Carlos said, holding back a laugh at your little scene.

“You guys suck,” you huffed, settling down to hopefully enjoy the rest of your lunch break in peace.

You needed to forget about the way that Peter had looked at you just a minute ago, full of hurt and disappointment. He didn’t actually care, you thought to yourself, even though you weren’t quite sure if that were true.

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Taglist: @hommyy-tommy @itsgonnabeohtay @alltimekyn @allycat449-blog @greatpizzascissorstaco @dummiesshort @parkerpeterparker2004 @letssee2468 @yourbiggestspiderfan @orangesodafoam @alytavzla

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman x reader #mcu #marvel #tom holland x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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polaroid15 · 3 years

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Febuwhump day 28 - “You have to let me go”

Summary: Peter is no stranger to mourning. He'll do anything to keep his family safe.

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29138196/chapters/73219281

Okay. My little love note/ramble will be at the end of this chapter, but I just wanted to say before you read this- thank you. So much. Sincerely. This has been quite the adventure. But like all adventures, they have their end. I hope you like this one.

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Peter lands messily on the pavement, pain shooting spikes up his ankles and his heart beating a million miles a minute. Choosing to ignore the discomfort, he runs the rest of the way to where Rhodey, Natasha, and Steve are standing in a tense semi circle in front of an old warehouse.

He skids up beside them, barely breathing. “I- I came- agh. I came as soon as I heard.”

Steve places a strong hand on his shoulder to steady him and Peter can’t help but lean into the touch. They all stop what they’re doing to look at him and their eyes tell Peter enough for his stomach to plummet down to his toes.

Pity, guilt.

Fear.

“Where’s Tony?” he asks, his voice sounding far away to his own ears.

None of them answer, averting their eyes to the ground.

“Guys. Where is he?”

Rhodey looks torn. He looks from the ground to the warehouse, his mouth hanging open in indecision. “He’s in there. He’s okay.”

“For now,” Natasha says.

Peter nods, though his anxiety doesn’t lessen any. “Okay. Why haven’t you gotten him out yet? What’s the plan?”

He looks to Rhodey for his answer but the hero merely bites his lip. Sighing, Natasha interjects for him. “Tony’s cuffed to one of the center support columns. There’s a bomb strapped to the column beside him. The perimeter is rigged so that if crossed, the detonation time will shrink dramatically. It might even cause the bomb to go off immediately.”

Mouth dry, Peter tries his best to keep his breathing even. “How much time do we have?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Oh God,” Peter whispers. Steve’s hand on him tightens as he sways. “So what- what’s the plan?”

“Still working on it,” Rhodey says, his confidence slowly returning. “We’re trying to see if we can disarm the bomb from here. It’s too dangerous to trigger it by trying to cross the perimeter and grab him before it goes off.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry Peter. We’ll figure it out. We always do.”

He nods shakily, glancing over to the warehouse. So close, he thinks with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“You should call him,” Steve says. “He still has his com connected.”

“Right. Okay.”

Released, Peter steps away from the small group of heroes as they work furiously with tech Peter has never seen before. Despite their words, Peter can see how worried they are in their tight stances and clenched knuckles. It rips a hole through him. “Karen. Call Tony please.”

“Of course. Calling Tony Stark.”

For a moment Peter is afraid he isn’t going to answer. On the last ring, however, it connects. Tony’s strained voice replaces his anxiety with temporary relief. “Peter?”

“Tony,” he gasps, knees weak. “I- I just got here. Are you okay?”

A short silence. “You’re here?”

“Yeah. Everyone close enough got the distress signal. I came as soon as I could but I was in English. Mrs. Fletcher doesn’t usually let kids leave in the middle of class but you know me. I found a way.”

Tony doesn’t laugh like Peter had hoped he would. The weight in his stomach triples. Instead, when he speaks, his mentor’s voice shakes. “You- you really shouldn’t be here, kid.”

“You’re in trouble. Of course I’m here. I’m always here.”

“It’s not looking- Christ. It’s not looking good Pete.”

Everything freezes. His chest stills for one breath, two. The ground seems to drop out underneath his feet. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.”

No. No, he refuses to believe it. “How much time is left?”

“Just under six minutes.”

“Oh man.” Peter glances over to the Avengers. “Uh, guys?” he calls. “How’s it looking?”

Rhodey’s pinched expression tells him enough.

He can’t breathe.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice filters back in, his tone warmer. “It’s okay bud. Just breathe. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Peter forces air into his lungs, because this isn’t about him. This is about Tony. “We’re going to get you out,” he promises.

He can imagine Tony wincing, and it brings tears into his eyes.

“Kid?” Tony’s voice is soft in a way he’s never heard it before.

“Yeah?”

“I just- I’m really proud of you, alright? I want you to know that.”

“Tony stop-”

“No,” he interupts. “I need this Pete. So zip it while the adult talks.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m so proud of you. Getting- getting to know you has been one of the greatest privileges I’ve had in my damn screwed up life. I wouldn’t trade it in for anything.”

His heart beats ferociously against his ribs, warranting a physical pain. He can hear it in his ears.

“Stop saying goodbye,” Peter pleads.

“You’re a good kid, Pete. And you know I don’t go around saying this kind of stuff lightly so you sure as hell better remember it. You’re ten times the hero I ever was and I know- I know that the world is in safe hands.”

“But what about me?” Peter gasps out, eyes trained on the warehouse as the world spins. He knows it’s selfish. God he knows it’s selfish. “What about me, Tony?”

“Three minutes!” Natasha calls out, her voice cracking.

Silence.

“Tony!”

“Don’t blame yourself for this, okay? Don’t you dare. You don’t deserve this kiddo. I know this is unfair. You- you deserve to be happy.”

“Tony-”

“I love you Peter,” he says.

And then the line goes dead.

Peter’s insides vaporize. “Karen,” he says numbly, “call him back.”

It doesn’t even ring. “I’m sorry Peter. The call has been declined.”

“Damn it!” he screams while turning hurriedly back to the group. They’re pale. Rhodey’s hands are shaking. “We have to get him out right now!”

“Nothing’s working,” Natasha stammers, her fingers flying over her keyboard.

“Something has to work! Make it work! It always works!”

“We’re trying the best we can!”

On the screen, he sees the detonation time at 2:11.

He’s not losing Tony.

He can’t survive another loss.

He can’t.

The world dissolves down to a single thought.

Then he’s sprinting.

Sprinting with all his might towards the warehouse. The other three scream out his name, ordering him to stop but he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t dare. He pushes onward, nearly stumbling against the liquid panic coursing through every vein. By some miracle he stays on both feet.

He launches himself right through the front door, a loud beep signalling the perimeter breach. Rhodey’s voice enters his ears then, forced through. “You triggered the bomb to fall down to a minute. You have 60 seconds to get him out of there.”

It has to be enough.

Tony isn’t hard to find. He’s in the center of the warehouse, chained around his torso. Peter is at his side in lightning speed, wrapping his hands around the restraints and straining with all his might. At first they don’t budge.

No, no. He has to be strong enough.

“Peter-” Tony gasps. He’s livid. Shaking like an addict on withdrawal. “What the hell are you doing here? The bomb-”

“We still have time,” Peter pants, blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Peter!” Everything they’ve been through together, good and bad, bleeds into Tony’s voice. It shakes under the weight. “You have to let me go bud. This whole place is going to explode-”

“No.”

“I’m not letting you die for me. I’m not losing you.”

“And I’m not losing you! I’ll get you out. I’m not giving up.”

The electronic beep of the timer is constant, merciless. Tony jerks against the chains, his eyes wide and blown with panic. 35 seconds. 34. 33. Peter can tell his mentor is trying to connect with him, trying to use these last seconds to make him fold. To sacrifice his own life for Peter’s safety.

But Peter can’t.

He won’t.

“You have to let me go,” Tony whispers.

Peter sobs. It’s dry and panicked and desperate. A prayer. Something deep and foreign clicks inside his chest and in the next second, the chains snap and fall away. Tony slumps forward in surprise, catching himself on his elbows. Peter wastes no time in pulling him up to his feet, too scared to count it as a victory.

“We’re in this together,” Peter hisses, unable to believe that in what could very well be their final moments, he’s angry.

At Tony, at himself. At the world.

“Fifteen seconds,” Rhodey says in his ears.

The world narrows to an impossible size. He’s aware of every beat of his heart. Of every breath. Him and Tony race for the exit, the daylight beyond its doors acting as a promise. For a moment Peter thinks they’re going to make it, that everything will be fine.

Then they cross the perimeter line.

His spider sense flares right before the bomb detonates. He barely has time to realize that obviously the failsafe would work both ways, but it’s too late to correct the mistake.

There’s a deafening explosion. The ground shakes violently and Peter is reminded horribly of the warehouse. Searing heat reaches his back and he uses his lost conscious thought to tackle Tony to the ground.

He isn’t awake long enough to see if he was able to save him.

----

He wakes up in the ambulance. Everything blurs as if it’s underwater.

There’s hands on his arms, on his face, holding him down. The pain is all-consuming, tearing him apart limb by limb.

Something pressed over his mouth makes it difficult to speak. He coughs in his fight for air and it feels like his body rips in half.

“He’s waking up!” someone yells frantically.

“T-T-”

The voice must have belonged to Steve because his face appears above him in a messy streak. Through the delirium Peter can still identify the sharp glare of worry in his eyes. “Don’t try and talk, Peter. You’re going to be okay.”

“T-Tony-”

He doesn’t know if he’s alive. He needs to know-

Something sharp pricks his arm before the thought can finish. It’s welcoming at first, but he can’t help being afraid.

Everything fades like it never quite existed in the first place.

And if Tony is dead, if it’s his fault, he wants it to stay that way.

----

The next time Peter wakes up he’s in medbay.

It’s familiar. Too familiar, he would argue. The cotton sheets, the sharp smell of antiseptic. The pressure of needles poking into him and oxygen in his nose.

He’s laying on his stomach, so there must be something wrong with his back. Whatever it is he doesn’t feel the pain yet, which is nice.

Every thought is murky and distant. With eyes still closed he searches desperately for them. Steve was there, he thinks. Rhodey and Natasha too. He had been scared. Had run for something. Or from something?

A bomb.

Tony.

The fear returns in a fatal swoop. Somewhere in the distance he hears his heart rate monitor spike. He squeezes his eyes closed further, not wanting to wake, not wanting to face a reality without Tony in it.

Tears pool in his eyes.

He’s no stranger to mourning.

“Peter?”

The voice is muted in his panic, almost unreachable, though he knows in all reality it must be close. It stops his hyperventilating short, his chest burning as he refuses to draw in air.

Then he hears it. Another heartbeat.

“Peter. Open your eyes bud.”

Bud.

For once in his life Peter listens, his landscape blurring with tears. Sure enough, Tony is there, laying beside him on his own bed, so close that they could reach out and touch if they wanted. His mentor looks terrible, the skin on his arms and neck bandaged to cover what could only be burns. But he’s awake and sitting up.

Alive.

“Is this real?” Peter whispers. He doesn’t move an inch. If it’s a trick, or some drug-induced vision, he wants it to be permanent.

The world pauses on its axis.

Tony wipes a tear off Peter’s cheek.

“This is real.”

And Peter knows it’s true.

“Tony,” he gasps, unable to manage anything else through the thick knot in his throat. His heart monitor goes crazy again. More tears escape him and he shoves his face into the mattress to stifle a sob.

A heavy weight falls off his back. The relief is dizzying.

“Don’t cry kiddo. You’ll make me cry.”

“I’m- I’m sorry. I’m not trying too-”

Tony shakes his head with a soft expression on his face. “You’re pumped full of painkillers. I don’t blame you.”

“You’re alive.”

It almost sounds like a question.

Tony’s face melts into something dark for a moment before turning into a small smile. It looks like regret, Peter thinks. Or guilt. “Yeah kiddo. I’m alive. So are you.”

“What happened?”

Tony straightens his posture and tilts up his chin as if to dramatize the story. “Well, firstly you decided to disobey three high level Avengers to run into a building that was about to explode.”

“Sounds like me,” Peter agrees weakly.

“You got me out but as soon as we crossed the warehouse boundary it triggered the bomb to detonate. We got caught in the blast.”

Peter swallows thickly. “Are you okay? I thought. I thought-” but he can’t finish. Can’t even imagine vocalizing it.

I thought you were dead.

“I’m okay,” Tony says too quickly. There’s pain in his eyes. Raw, unresolved. “You took most of the damage when you covered me with your own body. You managed to push us far enough away to escape most of the explosion. A couple steps back and we wouldn’t have made it.”

Peter knows Tony well enough to know what he’s thinking. “Is this where you yell at me about self-preservation?”

The sound Tony makes is almost a laugh. Almost. He shakes his head. “I thought for sure it was over,” he murmurs. “It’s not fair you had to make that choice.”

“We’re family.”

A pause and Tony has to wipe at his own eyes. He looks away, puts up a shield. “I know, kiddo. But your life is more important than mine. Always.”

Peter shakes his head sadly. “Tony-”

“Always.”

“No, no. That’s- that’s not true.” He tries to prop himself up on his elbows and winces when it hurts. “We accept the love we think we deserve, you know.”

Tony stills at this. “What?”

Peter furrows his eyebrows, afraid he said it wrong in his drugged state. “We accept the love we think we deserve.”

Bottom lip trembling, Tony looks away. When he speaks, his voice is barely audible. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Mmm. English class. It’s from a book we’re studying.”

“It’s nice.”

Peter nods his agreement, letting his eyes droop for a second. But no, this is important, so he forces them back open. “I think you deserve a whole lot of love,” Peter says quietly. “In fact we all think that. So just let us give it to you, okay? Believe it too.”

Tony leans back on his pillows and digs his hands into his eyes. “Wow, kiddo. Anyone tell you that you’re getting wise lately?”

“I’ve always been wise.”

“Mhm. Whatever you say.”

Peter smiles, something reconstructing inside of him. “Thank you for what you said over the com,” he says. “Before everything went crazy.”

“I meant every word, kid. You’re family, no doubt about it. And that’s- that’s why I was so scared. It’s why I’m always scared. You mean too much to me to lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“Pete-”

“I’m wise, remember? Would I lie?”

Tony huffs out a smile. “I suppose not.”

Peter feels the drugs hold over him, wanting to drag him back under. He reaches his arm out to Tony who accepts it in his own. “We’re okay,” he mumbles. Finally, his eyes slip closed. “It’s over now.”

Time passes and Peter drifts on the surface. He feels Tony rubbing small circles against his knuckles.

“Love you, kiddo,” he hears Tony say after a while. His mentor’s voice is more gentle than he’s ever heard it before. He must think Peter is asleep.

Good thing he’s always full of surprises.

“Love you too,” he murmurs without hesitation. It drains the last of his energy and this time, he’s not afraid to let go. He falls asleep to the sound of Tony’s soft laugh.

It’s healing. A fresh start. A future. A family.

It’s been a long journey, Peter thinks.

And he wouldn’t change a thing.

-----

I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE!! Okay... maybe it is me who's crying haha.

Where do I even begin?? It's funny how after writing nearly 40,000 words for this fic I can't seem to articulate the ones to say how grateful I am. I've loved posting on here every day. I've loved interacting with you all and making so many new friends. Your comments and support and love have seriously made this month so much brighter. You've made me a better writer, you've made me smile and cry (in a good way lol). Just, wow. THANK YOU. From the bottom of my heart thank you. This ending is bitter sweet for me, but there's good things ahead I promise :)

I've never been good at goodbyes, so lets not make it a goodbye!! You're all so amazing. I truly, truly mean it. I couldn't have done this without you. This is just as much my story as it is yours. I hope you enjoyed this conclusion. Please lets stay friends!!! Please!! Come talk with me on tumblr: @polaroid15 if you want <3

Alright friends. There's so much more I could say but I don't want to keep you forever haha. I LOVE YOU. SO SO SO SO MUCH. I AM GRATEFUL FOR YOU. And as always, I hope you're having an amazing day <3

It's been a long journey, but I wouldn't change a thing :) <3

Love, Polaroid15

41 notes · View notes

hailing-stars · 3 years

Text

@febuwhump day 20: betrayal don’t say clown

summary

“You’d be dramatic too if you were about to get your teeth stolen and ripped from your mouth,” says Peter, shoving his phone in his pocket.

“Uh, ripped is not exactly what happens, and no I wouldn’t,” says Tony. “And I didn’t. As you constantly like to remind me, I’m a dinosaur. I’ve already had the privilege of having my wisdom teeth taken out.”

Peter huffs and digs his back further into the seat, as if he wants to disappear into it. “But do I really need to get it done today?”

“Do you want to be in pain when they start growing in?”

“No but-”

“Then yes.”

Tony tricks Peter into actually attending his appointment to get his wisdom teeth removed, after him bailing several times.

Tony feels a sharp pang of guilt as he turns the car into the parking lot of an oral surgeon’s office. Peter’s face is still buried in his phone, so he’s got a little time before the gremlin discovers his fate and tries pulling out the puppy dog eyes.

But it isn’t long enough.

He parks the car, and Peter jerks head up from his phone. His eyes go wide as he reads the letters printed across the giant, glass double doors. “This is betrayal, Mr. Stark. Betrayal of the highest order.”

“Dramatic, much?” asks Tony, shutting off the car.

“You’d be dramatic too if you were about to get your teeth ripped from your mouth and stolen,” says Peter, shoving his phone in his pocket.

Peter huffs and digs his back further into the seat, as if he wants to disappear into it. “But do I really need to get it done today?”

“Do you want to be in pain when they start growing in?”

“No but-”

“Then yes.”

“They probably don’t even have an aesthetic strong enough to put me under.”

“They don’t,” says Tony. “Which is why I rented out the office today and paid the Avengers medical staff to assist. They have the good stuff Brucie invented.”

“Okay, but I have school -”

“-May’s already told the school you’ll be out a couple days.”

“You guys are awful,” says Peter. He unbuckles his seatbelt, and Tony knows that means Peter’s out of his excuses and arguments. All he has left is whining and pouting. “You could’ve given me a heads up.”

“Sure,” says Tony. “And then you would have conveniently disappeared and missed your appointment, like the last three times.”

“I see your point,” says Peter. “But to be fair the last time was a real emergency. The lizard guy almost destroyed me and MJ’s favorite coffee place.”

“Why does every person who fights you have a ridiculous name?”

“I’m called Spider-Man. I’m kind of asking for something ridiculous.”

“That explains it,” says Tony, with a nod of his head. In full agreement.

The conversation stalls, and Peter looks truly miserable. Another pang of guilt ripples through Tony, though he knows it isn’t logical. It’s better for Peter to get this over with, rather than wait, but there’s something written across the boy’s face that gives him pause.

“Okay, let’s talk about it,” says Tony. “Why all the avoidance?”

“I dunno,” says Peter.

“Perfectly natural to be afraid -”starts Tony.

“-I’m not afraid,” says Peter. “I just don’t wanna be out of commission for days while I recover. It’s so boring.”

“You’ll likely be medicated so I don’t see you having enough coherency to be bored.”

“That’s worse,” mutters Peter.

“If it makes you feel any better,” says Tony. “You’ll probably be healed up and ready to hit the skies as Spider-Man by morning, with your healing factor.”

Relief washes across Peter’s face, but it’s there only seconds before it’s replaced by another perplexing frown. This time it’s better. This time Tony doesn’t have to pry to get his answers.

“...You’re gonna stay here?” asks Peter. “While I’m… out?”

“Yep,” says Tony. “Pepper made me bring a bunch of SI stuff I’ve been neglecting.”

Peter swallows. “And you’ll be there? When they knock me out?”

“Knocking you out is a harsh way to put it,” says Tony, with a frown. “But yeah, if you want me there.”

“It’s just - I dunno, what if I don’t wake up for another five years?” asks Peter. “And the world passes me by again?”

“I’d never let that happen,” he tells him immediately, and with confidence he doesn’t understand.

Tony’s seen enough tragedy in his lifetime to doubt he’d have control over a situation like that, but the words had come automatically, and they seem to smooth the worry creases on Peter’s face.

“Ready?” he asks him.

“Yeah,” sighes Peter. He grips the door handle and pops it open. “Let’s just get it over with.”

Tony follows through with his promise. He’s there when the medical staff inserts the needle into Peter’s arm. He holds his hand, tells him he’ll see him in a few hours, and watches as Peter’s scared, lost eyes slip shut.

His anxieties catch him by surprise. Seeing Peter lose consciousness like that brings him back to Titan, and although he allows staff to shuffle him out of the operation room, his fears beg him to stay, as if holding onto Peter's hand will keep him from dissolving back into dust.

Tony doesn’t concentrate on the work Pepper had given him.

His mind terrorizes him with illogical fears and his leg starts bouncing.

There isn’t a sturdy thought for his mind to dwell on, so it’s like his mind is swimming through varied traumatizing outcomes to Peter’s very common procedure. He’s like that the entire time they’re extracting the kid’s wisdom tooth, and he’s mentally berating himself about forcing Peter to go through with it.

And then the nurse pops her head out of the door. Tells him that it’s fine. That he should go on back to the operation room, because Peter’s about to wake up.

Tony holds his hand again, and Peter’s eyes flutter open. They’re dazed and confused, but still hold that soulful Peter Parker look inside them, so Tony breathes.

Something inside him snaps back into place. Something’s been corrected and healed.

“Hey, kid, you’re back,” he says. He squeezes his hand.

“‘Ony.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“I don’t like it,” says Peter.

He wrangles around in the dentist chair, and Tony puts a hand on his chest. It’s enough to stop him, at least while Tony takes instructions from the oral surgeon, and collects Peter’s super special painkillers.

“Okay, ready to go?”

Peter slowly nods his head, and Tony wraps an arm around his back, helping him to sit up without the help of the dentist chair. Tony helps him swing his legs over the stand of the chair, and does most of the work transferring him to a wheelchair provided by the staff.

It’s the same once they get outside and it’s time for Peter to leave the wheelchair and climb into the car.

Tony offers his arm, and Peter uses it as a guide and as a way of lifting himself from the chair. Tony doesn’t let him go, keeping his hands firmly locked on his arms until he’s sitting in the passenger’s side seat, looking every bit like the lost Golden Retriever puppy he’d once tried convincing Tony to home.

He takes the wheelchair back inside and quickly zips back to his vehicle, climbing into the driver’s seat.

“You left me,” Peter accuses, as Tony sits behind the wheel.

Tony starts the engine and switches the air on. “I wasn’t even gone a minute.”

“Felt like an eternityyyy,” says Peter. He lets his head rest against the window. “Don’t like feeling this floaty. Like I’m in IT and the clown’s got me.”

“Don’t say clown.”

“Clown,” says Peter, defiant even in his drugged state. “You’ll float too, Tony.”

“Okay, clearly it was a mistake to let you watch that movie.”

“Maybe they should’ve stolen Pennywise’s teeth,” says Peter. “Dentists could’ve ended that movie before it started.”

Tony laughs, and the smile’s still on his face while he watches Peter try and fail to insert the end of the seatbelt into the connector. After a couple more misses, Tony takes over and buckles him in.

“Can’t even stop making movie references when you’re dopey, you fiend.”

Peter lets out a noise that’s between a growl and a whine.

“Which is good,” says Tony. “We can watch lots of movies while your gums stitch themselves back together.”

“Yeeesssss,” says Peter. “I love movies.”

“I know, kid.”

“We gotta watch IT.”

“Okay, veto,” says Tony. Knowing the type of villains Spider-Man attracted, Tony’s convinced it isn’t long before his kid is facing off against a serial killing monster clown. He doesn’t want to tempt the fates. “How about something nicer-”

“Ohh, the one with the dinosaurs,” says Peter. “What’s it called…” He trailed off, lost in thought, and Tony imagines those drugs must be strong if the kid’s forgetting movie facts. “Jurassic Park!”

An image pops into his head of Peter fighting an actual dinosaur, and he begins to wonder if fatherhood was going to ruin movies for him. Damn kids.

“I want a red balloon,” says Peter, out of nowhere.

“Pete,” says Tony, with a breath. “Please move on from IT.”

“But I’m floaty.”

“How about a sit-com,” offers Tony. “Nothing bad ever happens in a sit-com.”

Tony wishes life were that way, that he could move his family inside of a bubble that he controlled and where nothing could touch them.

“Okay,” he agrees. “As long as I can still have a balloon. I went to the dentist. I deserve a balloon.”

“Fine, but it’s not going to be red,” says Tony. He lets himself be consumed by hatred for this fictional clown for stealing his signature color.

He pulls the car out of the parking lot, and just before he turns onto the street and joins traffic, he notices Peter’s eyes fluttering closed.

“Tony,” says Peter, voice quiet and dazed. “Thanks for being here, you know, when I came back.”

He doesn’t know whether Peter means after his surgery, or after he was stitched back together from dust. He decides he must mean both.

“Of course, Pete,” says Tony. “Thanks for coming back.”

Peter flashes him a grin, before nodding off, and warmth fills Tony’s chest. So live isn’t a sit-com, but in that moment, everything was great and for now, it’s enough.

#febuwhumpday20 #irondad #my fic #irondad fic

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: During a game of Never Have I Ever, you and Peter decide to tick off something neither of you have done before.

Warnings: Underage drinking if that really even needs a warning? Talk of some sexual stuff but there’s no smut or making out (this is more of a friend fic than a romantic/ sexual fic)

Word Count: 2570

__________________________________

“I can’t believe your dad and Mr. Stark actually let me stay the night! This is so freaking cool!” Peter nearly squealed, setting his overnight bag by the couch in the sitting room at the Avengers Compound.

You nodded in agreement, “Honestly, me too. I definitely didn’t think my dad, Mr. Old-Fashioned, would be alright with you staying the night while everyone else is gone but Tony actually convinced him. Talked about how much he trusted you ‘n stuff.”

Peter’s eyes got wide, “Mr. Stark said that?”

Rolling your eyes, you giggled at him, “Don’t get too excited there. There was still lots of threatening to break your bones if anything happened and all that other dad stuff.”

Your best friend looked a little nervous all of a sudden, “Y’know, those dad threats really hit differently when they’re coming from Captain America.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve fought him off once before. We know he won’t crush you, at least right away.” You teased, laughing when his eyes got big and he looked quite flustered.

“Exactly! He’s nice about it now but we’ve literally fought each other, Y/N! I don’t think that puts me up very high on his list of favorite people.” Peter suddenly looked like maybe coming over wasn’t such a good idea.

“Well it’s a good thing he doesn’t have to like you. I do.” You smiled before you realized what you’d said. “Wait, I mean- not like that!”

It definitely was like that. You’d been smitten with Peter since Tony introduced him to the rest of the Avengers and your crush on him had only grown as you’d gotten to know him more. But he didn’t need to know that.

Peter seemed taken off guard for a brief moment before faulting a cocky look, “Oh please, I know you love me.”

You rolled your eyes and walked into the kitchen, “Shut up and pick out a movie. I’ll make some popcorn.”

When you returned to the living room a few minutes later, Peter was sitting there, already in his pajamas, with The Office ready to play on the TV. “Good choice.” You plopped on the couch beside him, setting the bowl of popcorn in between you two and pressing play.

The two of you only got about three episodes in before you were bored, “We should do something!”

He looked over at you, “Like what?”

You thought for a moment, “Wanna play a game?”

Peter nodded, “Uh, yeah. Sure. Truth or dare?”

“Hmm… I don’t know. I feel like we’ve played that so many times. And it’s more fun with more people. What about Never Have I Ever?” You suggested, throwing a few kernels of popcorn into your mouth.

“Alright,” He held up ten fingers, “Never have I ever… been sat on by a bad guy.”

“Oh my God! It was one time! And that was targeted!” You whined, throwing a pillow at him. With a bitter look, you put down one finger. “Never have I ever cut the Ferry in half!”

Peter sighed in defeat, “Okay, okay! Fine! No more targeted ones!” He shifted so he could face you better and put down a finger. “Never have I ever… been to a party.”

“Wait! What about Liz’s?” You asked.

Peter shrugged, “Eh, I don’t really count it. I was there for, like, five minutes before I left to do Spiderman things.”

You rolled your eyes at your best friend, “Okay, fine. I haven’t either.” You thought for a moment, trying to think of all the things you’d never done. In some categories, a lot came up but in others, you were dry of ideas. “Never have I ever gotten my tongue stuck to a pole in winter.”

Peter looked at you like you were dumb, “I mean, me neither, but really? That’s your ‘Never Have I Ever?’ Tongue stick-age? And not even to an inappropriate object? Isn’t this supposed to be a little more exposing?”

“What do you want me to say? Never have I ever watched porn or something? C’mon, Steve Rogers is my dad, do you really think I do a ton of bad things?” You defended yourself against the hard time Peter was giving you.

“Exactly! So you should have a pretty easy time saying things you’ve never done. Things that are more entertaining than sticking your tongue to a pole!”

You put your hands up and rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine! You go then, if you’re so high and mighty with your Never Have I Evers, as if you’re all that more rebellious than me.”

He barely had to think, “Never have I ever gotten a blowjob.” He looked quite proud of himself for coming up with that one.

“Oh, what a coincidence! Me neither.” You gave him that same are you dumb? Look that he gave you earlier, gesturing to your breasts that indicated that it was pretty likely that you didn’t have a dick and had therefore never gotten a blowjob.

Peter groaned, “Y’know what I mean. Have you ever had anyone go down on you?”

You shook your head, “No. I never really trusted anyone. Or I guess even myself sometimes with the powers. I don’t know. Just… no.” A moment later, you added, “Never have I ever been naked in public.”

Peter’s head rolled down to hang in shame and his cheeks flushed pink as he put another finger down, “Yeah, one time Flash pantsed me in the locker room when I didn’t have my shirt on. My underwear went down too and everyone in the locker room saw me butt naked.”

Your mouth dropped in a sympathetic laugh, “Oh no! I’m so sorry!” But then the images of Peter naked flooded your mind and suddenly your face was the same crimson shade that Peter’s was. “Your turn.” You urged, trying to distract yourself.

“Never have I ever been drunk.” He admitted plainly, waiting for your response.

You shook your head, “Nope. Me neither.” But then an idea popped into your head, “Y’know, Peter, if you want… I know where Tony puts the liquor.”

Peter’s eyes went wide, “We can’t. I mean, what if Mr. Stark finds out? He’ll kill me- I mean, us.”

You giggled, sudden excitement running through your veins, “No, he won’t find out. We’ll just drink some of the cheap stuff that he saves for people he doesn’t like and then refill it with water. Honestly, if it costs less than $100 a bottle, he’s probably not gonna drink it himself.”

Peter looked at you with wide eyes, trying to figure out whether or not it was worth the risk. You saw the wheels spinning in his head as his gaze flicked from you to his hands that rubbed nervously on his thighs. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just figured I’d let you in on the opportunity.” You reassured him. The last thing you wanted was to pressure him into doing something he wasn’t comfortable with.

Finally, he shook his head, “Yeah, y’know what? Let’s do it.” His head shaking soon became confident nodding and an excited grin sparked on your face. You practically jumped off the couch and ran down the hall to the room where Tony had his meetings. Kneeling before a small dark wooden cabinet, you opened the door and felt around in the very back, grabbing blindly for a bottle.

Peter joined you and knelt next to you, nervous energy buzzing off of him. When you finally found a bottle that was easy enough to maneuver out of the cabinet, you sat back on your butt and read the label. “Vodka okay with you?” You asked, indifferent to it yourself.

Your friend shrugged, “Guess we’ll find out.”

“HA! Cap, Tony, c’mere!” Clint laughed from the living room, calling Tony and Steve from the hallway.

Both men walked towards Clint and immediately groaned when they saw the sight before them. A bottle of vodka sat on the counter, right beside the sink, suspiciously full considering how sticky the counter and two shot glasses were on the kitchen island. Beside the shot glasses was an open bottle of cranberry juice that was now warm from being left out of the fridge for who knew how long.

They walked from the kitchen towards the couch, where Clint stood over with his arms crossed and a look of hilarious disbelief on his face. It was the kind of look that the “cool” uncle gives when their nieces and nephews do something wrong but it sure was funny as hell. When Steve saw, though, he groaned, “Oh my God.”

You and Peter lied (well rather looked as if you flopped), fast asleep. You were lying face down on the carpet, hair a mess around your head. You looked like you fell off the couch and just never got back up. Peter, on the other hand, lied with his feet hanging over the arm of the couch and his head hanging over the edge. His arm was draped over his face dramatically, his hair fluffy and disheveled from being upside down.

“Oh my God, he’s just like me.” Tony muttered, partly disappointed but secretly a little proud.

“I knew this was a bad idea! But you told me that you trusted him! I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill them both.” Steve decided, arms crossed over his chest.

Natasha walked over and laughed, “Awe, c’mon Cap. At least they’ve got clothes on. Looks like they were just being kids and messing around.”

Steve grimaced at the observation of ‘at least they have clothes on’, a million images of alternative scenes running through his mind that he didn’t want to see. “She does have a point.” Tony pointed out.

“Okay, okay! You’re supposed to be on my team here.” Steve pointed at Tony who put his hands up defense, “Your kid’s in just as much trouble as mine.”

“My kid? Oh no. Your kid probably was the mastermind of this.” Tony argued back. Steve was about to retaliate but it didn’t take long at all for it to occur to him that Tony was probably right. Peter was always too worried about disappointing Tony to have come up with this idea.

Back in the kitchen, Clint inspected the bottle of vodka before taking a swig straight from the bottle, laughing a little when he swallowed, “They even watered it down and everything. Reminds me of when I was a teenager.”

“Please just tell me it wasn’t my good stuff.” Tony asked, bracing himself.

Clint looked at the label, “Nope, definitely not. The bottle’s covered in some of that sticky dust stuff too so it’s probably pretty old.”

Tony raised his hands in contentment, “See Cap? They were just screwing around. They’re teenagers. They’re gonna do dumb stuff. But they’re fully clothed, I’m pretty sure they’re alive, and they didn’t drink my good booze.” He shrugged.

Steve rolled his eyes and huffed before leaning down and shaking you roughly, “Y/N! Get up!” He demanded, his voice stern. You shot up quickly, eyes opened in a foggy haze, still half asleep. Some of your hair stuck up and some of it hung in your face. You were still lying on the ground, your top half propped up by your arms. You knew immediately that you were utterly fucked. “Oh crap.” You groaned, putting your head back on the ground.

Your head pounded and you felt nauseous but you weren’t entirely sure if it was the hangover or the fear of whatever punishment your father chose. Tony snapped by Peter’s face, “C’mon kid. Get up.”

Peter’s eyes slid open groggily but he twisted over right away to look at Tony rightside up. “Oh my gosh, Mr. Stark!” He was much more alert and less hungover than you, his powers allowing his body to process the alcohol faster. He was only mildly hungover, stumbling slightly every now and then. “I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh- Am I fired?” He asked, fear strong in his voice.

Tony put his thumb and forefinger on the bridge of his nose, “Fired from saving the world cause you drank some booze? Please, kid, if that’s all it took, there’d be no superheros. Get your ass up.”

“You too, Y/N. Up.” Steve told you. You tried to scramble up to your feet, using the ottoman and couch to help pull you up.

“I am so sorry. This was all my idea.” You tried to explain yourself but your voice was more groggy and gargled than you meant. Your hand found a permanent place on your head, somewhere between fixing your hair and trying to rub your headache away.

Tony shook his head, “No, save it. Now look. Both of you guys took my booze. Luckily you guys were smart enough to take the crappy bottles so I’m not that mad. I get it. I was a teenager once too. But you still took my alcohol and were drinking underage so I gotta do something.”

It was strange to you seeing Tony in a disciplinary role like this. Even though he treated Peter like his own son, Tony had always been the partier playboy philanthropist, as he put it. That attitude still shone through, though, in his less than stern approach to this whole situation.

“Y/N. Get dressed. You’re gonna run laps outside.” Your dad demanded, arms crossed.

Your head rolled to the side with a sigh, “Can I please do it later? My head is killing me.”

Cap shook his head, “Nope. That’s kind of the point. You wanna drink like an adult, then you can still carry out your responsibilities like an adult. You knew there was training today. Go change and I want you to do seven laps around the compound.”

“Seven laps?! Each lap is like half a mile!” You protested but your father only stood tall over you, looking down at you with a cocked eyebrow and unamused face. Finally, you sighed in defeat, “Fine.”

Peter sat on the couch, eyes wide as he awaited whatever punishment was coming his way, especially after seeing how yours played out. But Tony look like his mind was anywhere but right here right now. Steve nudged Tony with his elbow and Peter noticeably flinched at the action.

Tony cleared his throat, “Oh, um, yeah. You can join her or I’ll tell May.” He less than half-heartedly threatened before raising his hand to shield his face from Steve, making a face and shaking his head to indicate that this was definitely a fake threat just to appease Steve for the sake of not undermining him as a father.

“I’ll run. Please don’t tell May.” Peter begged and you couldn’t tell if he was just playing along with Tony or if he was still genuinely horrified that he’d been caught and wasn’t thinking right. (Judging by his voice, you were almost convinced it was the latter.)

Neither you or Peter moved yet, waiting to get yelled at a little more, but Tony just snapped after a few moments, “Get moving. Let’s go.” He pointed down the hall and you Peter both scurried to get changed.

“Never again.” You grumbled, walking to your room, trying to rub away the headache that pounded in your head.

“Agreed.” Peter nodded, trying with all his might to avoid looking anywhere but the ground.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker one shot #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #best friend!peter parker #best friend!tom holland #Avengers #avengers imagines

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silence-burns · 4 years

Text

Please Hate Me //part 21

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on "Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki." by @thefandomimagine

Loki wouldn't call himself a master of lockpicking, but he certainly possessed his fair share of skills regarding the matter.

Their origins were varied, some including childhood punishments requiring him to be locked in his chambers. Some came from the times his curiosity whispered to him from places people didn't want him to peer into. Both of those gave Loki a rather good hold on what he was able to do in just a few minutes under no supervision.

Most of his skills, unfortunately, required a lock to be picked.

Loki stared at the wall and a panel next to the door. In the hopes of not gaining your attention, he tried to look utterly disinterested in the room you brought him into some time ago, but now he regretted not noticing how you opened the door.

He was sure you fished something out of your pockets. He just didn't think it could be something other than keys.

The panel didn't have any visible buttons, so guessing the code was out of the question. The whole thing seemed blended with the wall, as many things in the damned Tower did.

Loki left the matter of the door for later. The opposite side of the room held a large window, now looking more inviting than ever.

Loki grabbed a handful of chips on his way there. The sandwich you gave him earlier, although (surprisingly) not awful even with the heart on top, did little to completely satisfy his hunger. He sneered at the memory of it.

The window was big enough to allow a proper way out, Loki noticed with professional assessment. He had slipped through enough windows to know his own flexibility and the importance of right angles.

His heart dropped a little when he looked through it, only to find the night view over the shining city be a very high one. Loki wasn't really bothered by heights, but a look down the Tower's side made him hesitate a bit. He remembered he told you he wouldn't sneak out anytime soon, but it was important to know his options in advance, right? Besides, the drop wasn't even that steep, come to think of it…

He turned, a little guilty, when you walked back into the room. Peeling off the dirt and dried fluids of varying sources did wonders to your presentation, only for the effect to be immediately killed off by the disgusting gray outfit, twin to his own.

"What, you thinking about jumping out?" You asked as if reading his mind.

Loki didn't answer as you approached him, throwing your towel on a nearby chair. The chair didn't protest, already carrying a few items you forgot about. You peered outside.

"Damn, it's already snowing. I personally wouldn't recommend sliding out this way anytime soon."

Loki raised his eyebrows. "You make it sound like you've already tried that."

"I made it 4 floors down before I got to the one without any good outside handles. I mean, there were a few, but I kinda slid by them, thanks to the frost."

"Was it worth it?" he asked with actual curiosity.

"It was a bet—of course it was worth it."

"I see."

He watched you settle on the bed, bringing all the food closer, and turning the TV on. A spare blanket was even found for him, and laid to your left. He had to ask, though.

"What do you plan on doing?"

"Watch something mind-numbing, eat, regret I ate so much, and go to sleep."

"Mind if I join?"

"You're my bestie, of course I don't mind."

With a tormented sigh, Loki laid on the mattress, pushing your legs to make more room for himself. "Is that really necessary? It's so crowded here."

"With your bloated ego, I'm surprised the Tower is capable of housing you at all."

He watched you fill your mouth without skipping a beat.

"Can't you use a plate? You're making a mess. I'm not going to sleep on the crumbs," Loki complained, brushing some off the sheets already.

"You can always sleep on the floor. I won't mind, it's all yours."

"I hate you."

"Can't blame you."

He took the muffin you'd been consuming out of your hand and finished it out of sheer malice. Your shocked face made him feel a little better.

"You truly are evil, Loki—to starve the injured and weak…"

"Don't call those few bruises an injury," he scoffed, gesturing to the few cuts on your cheek.

"A few bruises? You see this? My arm is going to kill me tomorrow!" You put your elbow in his face, showing a growing mark that already darkened a large patch of your skin.

It didn't hurt much yet—only when you touched it—but you had enough experience to know it was just the beginning. It was a surprise you could move the arm at all. You remembered falling on it quite a few times, so a broken bone or some joint injury could have been expected at least.

Loki pushed your arm out of his face. "You call that bad? Look at my poor ribs and guess whose knees are imprinted on them!"

He pulled on his shirt to reveal the damage, although he had to admit it wasn't as dramatic as he wished to. His stark white skin contrasted with the grayish bruise, but it looked like the damned bracelet didn't stop his body from healing faster than a regular human's. A few more hours and there would hardly be any trace left of it.

You laughed in his face. "Poor baby. At least I can say I didn't have any choice in that, as I was hauled into the trunk right after you. Do you want me to remind you of the time you basically threw one of those monsters at me? And pushed me off a bridge?"

"How many times do I have to remind your tiny little human brain that it wasn't my fault—"

"You're already looking for excuses—"

"Because normal arguments completely miss you—"

"Shut up, my phone is ringing."

If your hand didn't cut him off with a slap to his mouth, he might have made a remark about your injuries being an obstacle only when it suited you best. Instead, he had to resort to peeling it off his face while you looked for your buzzing phone through the blanket with the other one. Your so very painful injuries didn't seem to be slowing you down.

He stole another cupcake. It wasn't awful.

"Damn, Peter is facetiming us.” You seemed happy.

That alone made him wary. His mood only grew gloomier as the boy's cheery face appeared on the screen in your hand.

You moved closer to Loki to let Peter see the both of you. Loki's ribs were not spared in the process and neither were the sheets as the crumbs left his mouth along with an undignified whimper.

"My favourite teenager, you have no idea how happy I am you're not dead and Aunt May won't be hunting my ass anytime soon." You sent Peter a blinding smile. Loki only shot you a dark glare, trying to free his right arm from under your body.

"Yeah, it didn't go as bad as I thought," Peter laughed as well, although the cut on his lip made it visibly uncomfortable. "I'm just grounded forever, but I'm fine. I've got super-healing, remember?"

You sighed. "Why am I the only normal one here? It's unfair."

"I feel so sorry for you," Loki spit the words with venom coating every one of them.

Peter's face lit up immediately. It got bigger on the screen as the boy peered in closer.

"I'm so happy you're okay too, Mr. Loki! I'm so sorry we kinda dragged you into that, you probably hate our planet already, but it's not that bad all the time, there's plenty of—"

"Peter, how badly are you grounded?" You cut through his rambling, sparing Loki (and yourself) from the never ending stream of words.

"Well, I'm not dead, but if I'm one minute late back home, I might be," he admitted, earning a chuckle from Loki.

"But you're still going to school tomorrow?" you made sure. "I kinda want to grab some shawarma with my bestie, so you could join us during your lunch break?"

"That's so cool! There's a place I can get to in like 3 minutes, so it's a perfect—"

"When exactly did I agree to that?" Loki frowned.

You patted his bracelet. "When you didn't throw our friendship bracelet away."

"I told you I've already tried everything I can to get this thing off me."

"Sounds like a you problem."

Peter nodded silently from the screen, not really minding the fact he'd been forgotten for a moment.

A muscle shifted in Loki's jaw. He muttered with all the politeness he managed through gritted teeth, "And when exactly did your brave and just Avengers agree to that idea?"

"Tomorrow," you answered with all the confidence that had Loki's blood boiling. "Have you no trust?"

"In you? Please, don't get me started…"

You shifted your attention back to Peter, only to find him staring at the both of you with hearts shining in his eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing," Peter said with a smile suggesting the opposite. "See you tomorrow, guys!"

"Huh." You looked at the suddenly dark screen. "He never hangs up so quickly."

Loki muttered something inaudible. He focused on feeding the rage within him with another cupcake. There weren't many left. You assessed the image.

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yes."

"Is watching a compilation of fails the Avengers wish could be erased from the surface of the world going to make you feel better? Thor's included."

Loki hesitated.

"Yes."

The internet was truly a wonderful place, if used right. That truth was only beginning to dawn on Loki, as just a few minutes through the videos worked wonders on his mood.

"How do you even come up with so much footage?" he dared to ask as the replay of Steve slipping on some loose debris during a fight played.

"It's the internet, darling. We've got footage of everything that ever happened on those streets and of a few things that never did."

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#Pleas Hate Me #Loki x reader #Loki x you #Loki/reader #Loki/you #Loki imagine #loki laufeyson x you #Loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeysonxreader #Loki laufeyson/you #Loki laufeyson/reader #Loki #Loki laufeyson #Marvel #Mcu loki #Please Hate Me

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noncommited-writer · 4 years

Text

for memories

Starker — A prompt I chose for myself.

Prompt: ‘A selfie together’

A/n: I wrote Peter to be older and have way more confidence than our teen MCU Peter does. Cause I like confident Peter with down on himself Tony. It’s mostly just pure fluff. It’s mostly just unedited because I’m just trying to write as much as I can.

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark! Over here!”

“Mr. Stark, would you look into the camera, please?”

“Pose for me, would you?”

Tony’s lips strain to keep its curve, eyes hardening under the scrutiny of every camera and stare pointed at his way. Even after years of being within the public’s eye, Tony still gets the same itch under his skin, like he wants to run away at any opportunity given.

Some days it’s good, where he goes along with it, a smile on his face as he answers as many questions as possible thrown at him. Those are the days when he does have something of importance to say. On others, the paparazzi catches him in his worst moments, highlighting the sharp, jagged edges of the image of Tony Stark. He rarely gets a break.

Nowadays, it seems like the crowd doesn’t even let up. And it’s all because of the recent news: Tony Stark is dating a college student.

If Tony met the personification of the terrible rags people call magazines, Tony wouldn’t hesitate to blast it into smithereens with his latest suit in his garage.

Nevertheless, he’d rather have the public know and be obnoxious about it than to hide his relationship with Peter in public. Besides, everyone who knew before the news broke out was extremely supportive.

Tony drops one last smile before slipping into his Audi, heaving a sigh that relieves him of weight off his shoulders. He drives away from the eager crowd, ready to forget about the comments he read on some of the publication websites online.

—

“Mr. Parker, Boss has arrived.” Peter purses his lips to curb the urge to correct his name. He knows it would be fruitless anyway.

Peter saw the press release for his official statement about their relationship. It was brutal. Peter could identify almost every bad tell of Tony; he was practically a tensed, worked up version of himself. He took a lot of heat for the fact he’s dating Peter, someone who is a third of his age.

This means Peter is aware of how much Tony despises being on front covers of newspapers and headlines. So, he has taken up getting Tony to like having his picture taken a little more as his personal mission. He knows the man can hardly bear a selfie, let alone a photoshoot.

He leans back on his heels, looking over his pet project scattered over the floor.

It’s why Peter wants to create something personal, something that he knows Tony would appreciate receiving because god forbid Peter would buy him something. Peter hates the fact he can’t buy anything for the man who has everything—something he learned very quickly at the start of their relationship.

When he hears footsteps outside their room, Peter scrambles to pile everything together, shoving it under the bed just in time for Tony to open the door. Peter grins sheepishly from the ground, small pieces of paper on his sweatpants, dried hot glue on his fingertips. Tony only raises a brow, not saying anything.

“Hey, Tony!” Peter chirps, almost tripping over himself to get on his feet and cross the room to place a kiss on Tony’s lips. The older melts under the contact and Peter frowns briefly.

“You okay?”

Tony huffs, dryly amused. “Doing great.”

A wince crosses over Peter’s face. “I saw the press release.” His nimble hands pull on the lapels of Tony’s jacket, sliding it off his shoulders to toss it on their bed. His fingers gently dig into Tony’s tense shoulders, difficult knots unfurling under the pressure.

Tony groans, “Was it bad as I think it looked like?” He grabs onto Peter’s hands, holding them in between his palms like they are precious.

“I think it was worse,” Peter mutters, allowing himself to be led to their bed, settling over Tony, thighs straddling his lap. His callused thumbs rub mindless circles into Peter’s sweatpants, a small crease in between his brows.

“I just… I knew what they were thinking and there was nothing I could do to stop it,” Tony mumbles, leaning back into their ridiculous number of pillows. If there was something Peter wouldn’t change for anything in their penthouse, it would be the countless, incredibly comfortable pillows. But he digresses.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for what they’re thinking,” Peter says, breezy. Tony tsks, sighing, “I know.”

There is something Peter learned early in their relationship, and it’s that Tony puts the entire world on his shoulders—their views, their hopes, their expectations. It’s hard not to when it’s up to him to save the day when the world is about to be taken over by another obnoxious villain with complicated motives.

Peter wonders what Tony thinks the general population’s perception of them is. Tony’s brain is a marvel within itself, the only downside to something that expansive is that it has the tendency to overthink and overanalyze.

“What—What do you think they were thinking about?” Peter asks, voice gentle as if he’s timid to breach the topic. Tony’s lips quirk up, most probably at Peter’s tone.

“That I’m just like every other middle-aged white man with a midlife crisis, that I’m taking advantage of you, pressuring you—”

“Hold up, what—Tony, what?” Peter splutters, flushing, embarrassed.

“If they really are thinking that, they are absolutely wrong—well,” Peter pauses, “maybe not about the ‘like every other middle-aged white man’.”

Tony makes a face, scrunching up his nose (in the way Peter secretly thinks is utterly adorable) and Peter laughs.

“I don’t mean that in a mean way. It’s just straight facts.” Tony cocks a brow, a smile stretching on his lips. “Oh, really?”

Peter laughs even more, “Yes, really—ah!”

Tony draws Peter into his arms, yanking him to the side as his fingers find their way to Peter’s sides, tickling him. Peter has rarely ever screamed in his life, but the sound he made as Tony pokes his stomach is a close one.

“TONY! Jesus! I’m kidding!”

“Take it back!” Tony yells, beaming.

“I would never!” Peter giggles, the irresistible urge to run away from his boyfriend bubbling up to the surface the more Tony tickles him. The longer Tony keeps Peter trapped underneath him, the harder it is for Peter to keep his bursts of giggles in. He tries to twist away from Tony’s hold, but to no avail, so Peter is stuck in between huge gulps of air and fits of laughter.

“Take it back! C’mon, Pete!” Tony says, pinning both of Peter’s wrists above his head and using his other free hand to poke the younger man’s belly. Even though Peter knows he can easily break out of his hold—possibly even shove Tony across the room with one arm—he doesn’t do more than trying to twist under Tony, squirming uncontrollably.

“Peace, peace, peace, please,” Peter pants, sweat on his forehead, chest heaving as he takes a moment to catch his breath because, Jesus, if anything, Tony is unrelenting in his mission to get Peter to let up. The tight grip on his wrists says so.

Tony grins, wide and a touch sinister, “Do you take back your statement?”

“If it gets you to stop harassing me, yes.” Peter playfully glares, rolling his eyes.

Tony is still grinning, immensely amused from his own antics and Peter stops. The smile on Tony’s face is almost blinding, making him look years younger than he is despite the accentuated laugh lines, like he’s without a care in the world. It’s beautiful. Peter is saddened by the thought the world doesn’t see it the same way he does.

The curve on his lips slowly slides away, and Peter is struck by the sudden yearning for that smile again.

“Pete, you okay?” Tony asks, leaning in closer, concern crinkling around his eyes (but different from the way he grinned a moment ago, glowing with utter delight—)

“Huh?” Peter mumbles, blinking away the haze of adoration. Tony’s lips twitch.

Peter shoots up from his lying position, leaning over the side of the bed to rummage under the bed. When Peter rights himself, a polaroid camera Tony bought him for his birthday is in his hands, smiling like he’s hit by the best idea

At the sight of the camera, Tony frowns briefly, but his eyes still glitter with something warm. Peter knows he can practically get Tony to agree to things he’s not keen on, just by the sheer amount of love, Peter knows Tony has for him.

It’s how Peter was able to get absolutely trashed for his twentieth birthday, and that’s before they even officially got together.

Peter pulls Tony closer, falling back into the pillows rather dramatically, pressing a kiss to Tony’s temple—all of which Tony can’t stop a puff of laughter at. At that exact moment, Tony hears the shutter of Peter’s camera.

Peter is grinning when the film comes out, holding it carefully in his hand. Tony furrows his brows.

“What’s that for?”

Peter shrugs, lips in a sweet smile. “For memories.” Peter nods to the film and Tony looks up to stare at the newly developed image.

It’s of Tony, caught in between his fit of laughter, eyes closed in bliss as Peter—cheeks still delightfully pink and flushed from the tickling—graces a soft kiss to the side of Tony’s temple. The picture is slightly blurred, but somehow it brings an innate feeling of the photograph being intimate, real and organic, like the moment was captured and collected and printed for Tony to stare at in wonder.

“I know you’re a good photographer, Pete, but even this is undermining it,” Tony mumbles. Peter would laugh, but he only grins and presses a harder kiss on Tony’s lips as he feels the hard thumping of Tony’s heart against his own chest.

“I know. I’m the best,” Peter whispers, and Tony can’t stop himself from laughing into the crook of Peter’s neck.

#starker #starker prompt #tony x peter #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #starker fluff #starker fluff oneshot #day 1

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bella-spil · 4 years

Text

The Announcement

The time has come for you and Bucky to announce your new status (follow up to the arrival)

Bucky x fem reader, fem reader x avengers

Warnings: cursing, fluff, talking about virginity.

Word Count: 2.1k

The rest of the day flew by in a haze. The closer dinner got, the more anxious you and Bucky got. But Peter was trying his best to help. He kept reassuring the two of you that everything would work out for the best and everyone would be happy for you no matter what. But Bucky wasn’t anxious about that. He was anxious because he was the one announcing it and he didn’t want to say something stupid.

At around 6:30, dinner was ready and Tony was calling everyone back to eat. On the table was cheeseburgers, fries, and everything in between. There were drinks of every kind, from juice boxes to wine and champagne. It all looked like something from a cookbook.

As everyone eyed the food and licked their lips, they all took their seats. At the heads of the table were Steve and Tony. On the right of Steve was Bucky and on his left was Sam. Vision was on Tony’s right while Clint was on the left. Wanda sat next to Vision and Nat sat next to Sam. When Nat sat next to Sam, he raised his eyebrows in satisfaction, but she was too quick and saw the subtle movement. She hit him in the air and Sam quickly shut up. Next to Clint was Peter and you were right in between Bucky and Peter. You needed to be next to Bucky for support and Peter was there to help in case anything happened.

As everyone was getting their food, Tony proposed a toast.

“Everyone, I just wanted to say I’m so happy not to be in a Wakandan jungle right now. I bet I speak for everyone that was on the mission,” as Tony said, everyone that was on the mission nodded in agreement and chuckled.

“Also, I want to congratulate Steve and Nat for their work on their recent mission,” Tony continued. Everyone clapped in approval.

“And I wanted to say that I have missed cheeseburgers, so before I dive in, does anyone else have anything that they want to say?”

You nudge Bucky in the arm so he gets the memo. He does and clears his throat.

“Uh, yeah I do,” Bucky said. Everyone stared at each other in disbelief. Bucky never spoke during dinner, he was too busy eating. And he barely spoke that much in general. The looks everyone gave each other were starting to scare Bucky and he looked to you for support.

You have never seen Bucky so nervous before. He was the Winter Soldier, confidence was his thing. He could walk into H.Y.D.R.A. buildings filled with soldiers like it was nothing. But this was a whole other ball game for him. As he looked at you, you could see the fear in his eyes. You looked at him with pride and nodded as he continued.

“Um,” Bucky mumbled.

“Hey, Manchurian Candidate, are you going to tell us what’s up or can we eat?” Tony asked, clearly hungry and impatient.

“Me and Y/N are dating.” You and him both smile cheesy. Your smiles looked like one from a yearbook. You and Bucky blushed in embarrassment as you could hear a pin drop. You were expecting someone to say something, not this much silence. Just as you and Bucky were wondering if this was the wrong thing to do, you hear a loud clap. And it’s coming from Tony himself.

“I knew it!” he shouted. “I knew it! I knew you had the hots for him Y/N. I’ve said that from the beginning, rig-”

Then unexpectedly, he gets cut off. Normally if you cut off Tony Stark, that would mean you’re done. But only two people cut off Tony and get away with it: Pepper and F.R.I.D.A.Y. And it was F.R.I.D.A.Y. herself that cut him off.

“Sir, when Y/N arrived, you shipped her with Mr. Parker.” Everyone started laughing in shock. Peter and you stare at each other in disbelief. You thought as if you would like Peter. You and him were too good of friends to have it for each other. Meanwhile, as everyone was laughing, Tony stood there embarrassed.

“No I didn’t,” he said a little too quickly.

“Yes you did sir,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. rebuttaled. “Would you like me to share th-”

She gets cut off by a distraught Tony.

“No, who did I think she would end up with next?”

“You shipped her with Mr. Wilson, sir.” At this point everyone was laughing so hard they had a hard time breathing, except for Tony. As everyone was laughing, you and Bucky stared at one another in shock. Then you catch Sam looking at you, astounded.

“Really?” Sam said, appalled. Then a sly look settled on his face. “I’m getting shipped with all the hot girls.”

Everyone can’t contain themselves as they are leaning on each other for support. The death glare Bucky sent Sam was unmatched. You knew Bucky had a good death glare, but this one beat all the others by a mile.

“You’re dead.” Bucky said, pissed off.

“You wish,” Sam snapped back.

“Ok, stop bickering,” Tony snapped. “Fine, I didn’t think you would end up with Barnes, Y/N. In fact, he was the last person I would expect.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Bucky said, sarcastically.

“Welcome, Barnes,” Tony replied. “But, I’m happy for you guys. If you need anything, especially money, you’re covered.”

“Thanks, Tony,” you answer.

“I’m glad you guys are happy together,” Clint chimed in. “You have my support.”

“Yes, I agree,” Vision added. “I’m utterly overjoyed seeing you two together.”

“Thanks guys,” you said, so happy at the approval you were getting. Bucky was overjoyed as well. He held your hand under the table where nobody would see, especially Sam.

But then, Sam started looking at you and Bucky quite weirdly. He looked over to Steve and Nat. They didn’t seem too shocked that you and Bucky were together. In fact, they looked like they knew, and that pissed him off. He was friends with Bucky, so why wouldn’t the Winter Soldier tell him?

“So, how long has this thing been going on?” Sam asked, trying to pry information out of you.

“About a month,” you answer, unaware of Sam’s intentions.

“Did you tell anybody?”

“No Sam, what’s your point?” Bucky lied.

“You obviously did because Steve, Nat and Spider ling haven’t said peep.” Sam said with a glare to Steve, Nat and Peter.

“Ok,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “So what if we told them?”

“WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?” Sam shrieked.

Bucky smirked at Sam, clearly getting the reaction he wanted. He loved getting Sam pissed off, it was his favorite pastime. He smiled at you and wrapped his arm around you, and you let out a quiet chuckle.

You loved getting Sam annoyed too, and the way his face was right now could make you laugh for days. But, trying to be polite, you just covered your face with your napkin so nobody could see the joy leaving you.

“Why do you think I didn’t tell you?” Bucky questioned with a smirk. Sam’s face was turning red, a big red flag for a fight about to start. Before that could happen you intervened.

“Nothing Sam,” you interrupted. “It’s nothing.” Bucky looked at you. He looked like a kid about to go in timeout. His baby blues looked so sad, it was enough to make you cry.

“Why did you do that doll?” Bucky whispered in your ear. “I was having fun.” Sam was flipping you both off from across the table, and Bucky did it back without breaking eye contact from you.

“You know why,” you said, since it was so obvious. You rolled your eyes and smirked. You took his hand underneath the table and gave it a little squeeze. Bucky smiled at you and brushed his hair out of his face. As you and everyone else resumed eating, Tony had something on his mind.

“So have you two fucked yet?” Tony asked with a smirk.

You and Bucky spit out the food in your mouth while everyone was laughing their asses off. You and Bucky sat there, embarrassed as hell.

“What?” Tony asked, unaware that he did anything. “Isn’t that the question on everyone's mind?”

“It certainly wasn’t on mine,” Steve chimed in with a chuckle.

“Oh well your Captain America,” Tony said. “You can never have dirty thoughts. You have to be a role model for every child in the world.”

Everyone couldn’t help but look at one another and nod, knowing this was true. But then Tony looked at you and Peter, for help.

“Psst,” Tony whispered. “Kids, what was that rumor about Capsicle that you showed me a few months ago?”

You and Peter look at each other, trying so hard not to giggle like five year olds. You both knew exactly which one he meant.

Since you were the youngest members on the team, you spent a lot of time on the internet. A lot. One day while on YouTube, Peter found a video explaining a pretty reasonable rumor about Steve. It had something to do with how Steve got his powers, but instead of explaining how he actually got his powers, the video showed a different way. Peter showed it to you and it was the funniest thing on the planet.

After Peter showed you, you and him both showed it to Tony. Tony thought it was the best thing he had ever seen and awarded both of you. He let you both come on a mission to London that you guys were begging to go on for months. He told you that he was going to find the right time to use it against Steve, and now was that time.

“Oh, cmon kids!” Tony pleaded. “Explain the theory!”

“Peter?” you look at him to make him explain. He knew there was no arguing with you, so he took a deep breath and started explaining.

“Well, there’s a theory online saying that you didn’t get your powers from the Super Soldier Serum, but from something else.” Peter said.

“And that would be?” Steve asked, confused. Peter started laughing, and you couldn’t help it and joined Peter. All the adults were looking at you confused, but Tony sat there with a smile.

Peter snickers to control his laughter before he speaks.

“You get your powers from being a 99 year old virgin!” he says before cackling like a witch. You cackled too and you didn’t care. Everyone’s faces dropped and started laughing as well. Steve sat there, disappointed. He was shaking his head and let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“Just when I thought I was having a good day, it turns to shit.” Steve sighed. Everyone stopped laughing except for Sam and Bucky. They thought it was the funniest thing ever and they had to lean back on their chairs.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing,” Sam sighed, wiping a tear off his face.

“I didn’t know you were still a virgin, Steve” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah,” Clint said. “I thought you lost it to Peggy Carter.”

“Nope, I still have my V-Card.” Steve smiled while blushing. You roll your eyes as he said V-Card.

“Ok, for clarification, who still is a virgin?” Tony asked. Everyone in the room wanted to know as well.

Three hands went into the air. You and Peter obviously raise your hands. You were still young and Peter told you he was waiting till he was engaged. That was the plan for you too, but that wasn’t going to be the case soon. Steve also raised his hand. Steve being a virgin was just too funny, and everyone started laughing.

Bucky, however, remained quiet, smiling at you. He was filled with a sense of pride. He loved that you haven’t given yourself up to anyone yet and he was glad that it would soon be him.

“Oh well for the kids, that makes sense. But for you that’s just sad.” Tony said to Steve.

“Thanks Tony for your concern,” Steve sighed.

“Anytime Capsicle.” Tony replied with a smug tone.

“Thanks everyone for supporting me and Bucky. I have no clue how this conversation went from me and Bucky being together to virginity, but we both are so happy that you guys support us.” you said.

“Don’t worry about it guys,” Wanda said.

“We will always have you back,” Nat said. What she said was supposed to be for both of you, but since she said “back” it confused everyone, especially Vision.

“I believe the correct term is ‘backs,’ Natasha.” Vision corrected. Nat threw a dirty look at him while everyone else chuckled.

“So, before we all call it a night, wanna play a game?” Peter asked.

#bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky fucking barnes #bucky barnes #peter parker #avengers #fandom #fanfic #marvel #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #tony stank #tony stark #clint barton #sam wilson #wanda maximov #vision

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supersickies · 4 years

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it failed hard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Love you too, snotty.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MJ:

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

Old Man Stark:

Wow he looks rough, you have your internship today?

MJ:

yep first day

dont wanna leave him like this tho

Old Man Stark:

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

Morgan too

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

MJ:

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

Old Man Stark:

Good lord of course not

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

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

MJ:

yeah of course

Old Man Stark:

And you’re now getting a degree in…?

MJ:

journalism

Old Man Stark:

so…

MJ:

i could be a doctor if i wanted to

Old Man Stark:

I know

And thats why you terrify me

MJ:

>:-)

Old Man Stark:

Go to work!

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

MJ:

:P thanks T-Star

Old Man Stark:

Don’t call me T-Star.

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

Petey,

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

-M

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

MJ:

here

use this as blackmail

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

Mo Mo Stark:

HAHAHAHAHAHA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Headache?” Michelle frowns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tony Stank:

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

Honestly thought you pulled it off really well

…but you need a haircut

Please kiddo let me get you in with my hair guy

You’ll love him

Spider-Tot:

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

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

cant let my girl down

Tony Stank:

I swear you two are conspiring against me

Oh well

How you feeling bud?

Spider-Tot:

still kinda gross

snotty

but i think my fevers kinda lower

so thats something

tell pep thank you so so much for today

i was barely awake when they left

i feel bad I didn't get to say anything

Tony Stank:

I gotcha Pete don’t worry

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

Spider-Tot:

wdym ill just come in to the lab tomorrow

Tony Stank:

That’s a negative Petey Pie

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

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

Spider-Tot:

three days ??

boooo

u stink old man

Tony Stank:

Good lord

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

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

Good enough?

Spider-Tot:

hmmm

fine

Tony Stank:

Good

Now go rest

Don’t bother your girlfriend too much

She complains to me when you do

Spider-Tot:

now I think its you two conspiring against me

night tony

love u

Tony Stank:

Love you too bambino

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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petertingle-yipyip · 5 years

Text

Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Three: Hesitate

//WHB Masterlist//

// Series tags: @writingsbychlo @fandom-princess-forevermore @rosegoldhome @mc225g @peterparker-glee-other @olliekookie // Series inspo : @stuckonspidey @cxptain-capsicle //

Word Count: 5,442

Pairing: Peter x Stark!Reader

Summary: Despite not wanting to fight, she does. She stands her ground and does what she has to. But in the midst of the biggest fight she’s faced, Y/N hesitates. She doesn’t pull a punch or run from the fight, but she just stops for a moment to take in just what Peter is capable of. Even if she doens’t realize she did.

After leaving the hotel that morning, everything was a blur. You didn’t remember driving to that airport or putting your suit on. You didn’t remember greeting Nat, Vision, and Rhodey. You didn’t remember meeting T’Challa. It seemed like nothing was real until you were across from Steve. Suddenly, everything became too real.

“You can sit this one out, Y/N/N.” Your dad said gently, sensing your uncertainty.

“Came this far, haven’t I?” You shrugged. “I’ll be alright. I promise.”

“Alright.. Hang here for a sec.” He said before leaving with Rhodey. You watched from your hiding place, your helmet now covering your face.

“Wow, it’s so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don’t you think that’s weird?” Tony said when he landed in front of Steve.

“Definitely weird.” Rhodey agreed. You chuckled a little.

“Hear me out, Tony.” Steve began. Your ears perked up. Was it possible you didn’t have to fight? “That doctor, the psychiatrist, he’s behind all of this.”

“Enough talk.” T’Challa groaned before leaping out and landing a few feet behind Tony and Rhodey. “Captain.” He greeted Steve.

“Your highness.” Steve nodded.

“So much for that.” You sighed, staying put.

“Anyways, Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in. That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?” Tony stepped in.

“You’re after the wrong guy.” Steve tried.

“Your judgement is askew.” Tony countered. “Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday.”

“And there are five more super soldiers just like him… I can’t let the doctor find them first, Tony, I can’t.” He shook his head.

“Stay here and wait for my dad’s signal.” You mumbled to Peter, who nodded quickly, before stepping out and headed towards your dad. “If everyone is making their entrances, I guess it’s my turn. Hold your applause.” You tried to make light of a tough situation as your helmet collapsed to expose your face.

“Y/N?” Steve said in shock. “What are you doing here?”

“Moral support.” You shrugged. “I wasn’t going to leave my dad to do this alone. He’s already against you.”

“Seriously, Tony?” Steve asked your dad. “You brought Y/N into this?”

“Excuse you, Cap.” You answered. “I brought myself into this. Did you really think I’d let my dad come out here without my help? You should know me better than that.”

“This isn’t your fight and you know it.”

“Well, that makes two of us fighting fights we shouldn’t be, doesn’t it?” You said sarcastically.

Steve sighed dramatically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Barnes.” You said plainly, as if it should be obvious. “You’re trying to clear his name when that isn’t your fight. It’s his. And yet you’d risk everything and everyone for one man. How many lives is Barnes worth, Steve?”

Peter watched you in awe. You were so sure of yourself out there, so confident. It was so clear that you knew what you were capable, just how much of a weapon you truly were. Though you were humble and would never brag about it, Peter could see that you knew. He watched how you kept your head high, how you weren’t afraid to make eye contact with Captain America. You refused to be talked down to, refused to be treated a child. You were just so powerful.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I know.” You challenged.

“Steve, you know what’s about to happen.” Nat said carefully as she approached Steve. “Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?”

Steve looked between you and your dad. You could see his chest rise and fall with a heavy sigh. You didn’t feel so out of place knowing that Steve didn’t want a fight either. Not saying that Tony did, but Tony was more willing to fight. Even if Steve had pushed your last button by talking down to you, he was still family. But if it was a fight he wanted, it’s a fight he was gonna get.

“Alright, I’ve run out of patience.” Your dad sighed. “Underoos!”

A small smile fought its way to your face as you knew he was calling for Peter. It seemed like even though everything was blurry and messy, you remember hearing the conversation between those two, establishing Peter’s new nickname. It was cute. The nickname, not Peter… Well not not Peter…

Peter shot his web at Steve’s shield as he flipped over the crowd. He yanked the web back, pulling the shield back to him, shooting another web to lock the captain’s hands together. He landed gracefully, the eyes of his mask adjusting to the scene in front of him. You pumped your fist slightly, whispering a cheer as you saw the new suit in action. It moved as easily as water flowed, stretched and twisted with every movement Peter made. Seeing Peter in action in person was like watching a trained dancer.

“Nice work, Y/N.” Your dad with a smirk, finally seeing the finished product. “For one night’s worth of work, it looks amazing.”

“Did you expect anything less?” You said confidently. “It works just as good as it looks too.”

“Nice job, kid!” Tony called to Peter, giving him a thumbs up.

“Thanks!” Peter responded happily, his voice muffled by the mask. You could still hear the youth in his voice, simply by how high his voice was. “Well, I could’ve stuck the landing a little better. It’s just a new suit-” Peter put a hand out and shook his head slightly when he saw your eyebrows raise in accusation. “Wait- It’s nothing. Y/N, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Yeah, we don’t really need to start a conversation.” Your dad interjected, waving his hand to dismiss the topic.

“Okay. Cap- Captain.” Peter waved to Steve, causing you to laugh a little. “Big fan. Spiderman.”

“We’ll talk about it later.” Tony said. “Just-”

“Hey, everyone.” Peter waved.

“Great job.” You gave him a thumbs up and a nod, which made your dad scoff.

“You’ve been busy.” Steve said with a small smile.

“And you’ve been a complete idiot.” Tony replied quickly, growing visibly tired of the situation. “Dragging in Clint, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn’t want to leave – a safe place. I’m trying to keep-!” He began loudly before stopping to calm himself. You moved closer to Tony, giving a small nod as if to let him know everything’s going to be fine. “I’m trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart.” Tony confessed.

“You did that when you signed.” Steve countered smoothly.

“Alright, I’m tired of this.” You sighed heavily. “Easy fix to all of this, Cap. You’re gonna hand Barnes over. You’re gonna come with us.”

“Because it’s us.” Tony added. “Or a squad of JSOC guys with no compunction about being impolite.” Steve looked away, staying quiet. “C’mon.” Tony said softly. Tony didn’t want to fight.

Steve looked back to your team, waiting. It was as if he was waiting for something specific, listening to something or for something. Suddenly, Steve lifted his hands and an arrow cut through Peter’s webbing. You and your dad dawned your helmets, turning your attention to the direction the arrow came in.

“Alright Lang.” Steve said.

“Guys, something-” Peter began before groaning. You turned as soon as you heard Peter’s voice and saw someone materializing and kicking Peter in the face, knocking him off the truck he had landed on. The man grabbed the shield from Peter’s hands and brought it to Steve.

“Woah, wait. What the hell is that?” Rhodey asked, vocalizing your exact thoughts.

You ran to Peter, helping him to his feet. You grabbed his upper arm and the opposite forearm, Peter leaning into you slightly. His balance found him quickly as did his wits.

“You okay?” You asked quickly.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He said, rubbing his jaw slightly. “Where did he even come from?!”

“Believe this is yours, Captain America.” The guy, who you assumed was Lang, said to Steve.

“Oh, great.” Tony sighed before changing his attention. “Alright, there’s two in the parking deck and one of them is Maximoff. I’m gonna grab her. Rhodey, you wanna take Cap?” Your dad began his flight towards Wanda.

“Got two in the terminal, Wilson and Barnes.” Rhodey said.

“Barnes is mine!” T’Challa announced before sprinting to the terminal.

“Y/N, Mr. Stark, what should I do?” Peter asked as Steve threw his shield at Rhodey.

“What we discussed. Keep your distance and web ‘em up.” Your dad replied quickly.

“Okay, copy that.” Peter said, swinging away. You hesitated in following him for a moment, just admiring the way he moved. He moved with the grace and intent of someone who had been doing this for years. He was nimble and agile, processing new information quickly and adjusting accordingly. He was like nothing you had ever seen before. The videos you’ve seen did not do Peter and his abilities justice.

“Ms. Stark?” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice sounded in your helmet. “Are you going to join the fight or just watch?”

“Right, sorry.” You shook your head, quickly following after Peter.

Steve managed to keep T’Challa focused on him. Nat went after the guy who came off Steve’s shield. While Peter crawled over the windows, you went around and entered from behind. Barnes and Wilson ran in the direction of the Quinjet, you and Peter following behind them. Peter swung feet first through a window, knocking Barnes off his feet. You glided around the collision, and sent Sam tumbling along the ground away from those two. You turned to help Peter and saw Bucky take a swing at Peter, which Peter effortlessly caught.

“You have a metal arm?” Peter exclaimed, causing a falter in the super solder’s demeanor. Peter was younger than expected. “That is awesome, dude!”

Sam came hurtling through the air, ramming through you and headed towards Peter. He grabbed Peter, who struggled in his grip, and continued his flight.

“You have the right to remain silent!” Peter yelled as he struggled.

“Dumbass.” You sighed, shaking your head. You pushed yourself to your feet and went to help Peter. Just as you were leaving the ground, you felt your foot being grabbed. You spun to look down and you were thrown like a toy across the room. “Seriously?” You groaned as you got up. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., help me out.”

“Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes. HYDRA enhanced super soldier, equipped with a titanium arm.” The A.I. informed you. “Would you like an analysis of his fighting style?”

“Yes please.” You sighed, rushing the super soldier.

You ducked a punch from the titanium arm, hooking your own arm around it and used his momentum to flip him over your shoulder. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Sam drop Peter, who quickly recovered by shooting a web at Sam’s foot and hitching a ride. That allowed you to keep your attention on your current fight.

“So, you’re what all the fuss is about?” You commented, tilting your head in amusement. “Quite frankly, I don’t see why.”

“Let me guess. Stark’s kid?” Barnes asked, gesturing to your suit.

“The one and only.”

“Look, kid. I don’t wanna hurt you, alright?” He sighed, taking a step back. “You shouldn’t even be involved in this.”

You chuckled in annoyance. “Next person who tells me what I should and shouldn’t get involved in is going to get both arms broken… Well, if they have both arms.”

“Low blow.” He shook his head.

“Shouldn’t make it so easy.”

“So what’s your reason for hating me?”

“All of this-“ You gestured around you. “-is your fault. You’re the cause of this giant rift between us. Steve is leading half of the Avengers to help you, and my dad is leading the other half to stop you. Don’t you see the problem?”

“I didn’t ask for this.”

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Without warning, you took a shot at Barnes. You swung your right fist which he ducked and tried to counter with his titanium arm. You spun left, kicking his back and knocking him on his face. He rolled and kicked out at your chest, sending you to your back. After you stood, you grabbed his metal arm and pulled him close enough to connect your opposite elbow to his jaw. He stumbled away from you and you used this chance to gain some high ground. Barnes yanked your feet out from under you, causing your head slam to the floor and blur your vision momentarily.

“Early concussion symptoms recognized.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced. “Engaging sensory clarification systems.”

“Yup, figured.” You groaned, using the blasters in your palm to send Barnes flying across the terminal. “What happened to that analysis?”

“Sorry, there wasn’t enough data to create a counter plan.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed you.

“That wasn’t enough?” You panted.

Upon standing, you saw your dad engaged with Wanda and Clint across the airport. You turned to find Peter who was handling himself just fine.

“Be right back, Spiderman. Keep your eyes up and don’t be an idiot.” You said over the comm line. “On my way to you, Pops.”

Upon reaching your dad, you saw cars being flung from the parking structure. Red swirls led the vehicles to your dad. He fought off as many as he could, dodging the rest of them. Wanda took it up a notch, throwing multiple at a time. You shot blasts at Wanda’s feet to knock her off balance and stop her before you moved quickly, trying to get your dad out of there but the cars took you both to the floor. The cars knocked the air out of you as you landed on your back.

“Multiple contusions detected.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you and your dad.

“Yeah, I detected that too.” Your dad grumbled.

You shoved the car off yourself and managed to get your dad free. He looked around and saw Wanda and Clint had disappeared. You sighed, allowing your helmet to fall away for a moment. Your dad did the same.

“Well, Mom can’t say we don’t do enough things together.” You panted. “We got crushed by cars together.”

“Do not tell your mother that!” He laughed. “How’s the kid?”

“Holding his own when I left.” You nodded. “How you holding up, old man?”

“Other than that? Which you were no help with, by the way.” He asked, gesturing to the mess of cars behind him. “Holding my own.”

“If I hadn’t gotten here, she would’ve kept throwing cars at you, Plus, I got that car off of you but okay! Anyways, I should probably get back to him.” You nodded. “Need any more help, give me a call.”

Your helmet covered your face as you sped back towards Peter. As you approached, entering through the same broken window Peter launched himself through earlier, you saw Peter in the rafters while Barnes was behind a post and Wilson was circling back.

“Hey buddy, I think you lost this!” Peter said, throwing whatever Barnes threw at him right back.

Sam knocked Peter off his beam and nearly slammed him to the ground. Peter shot a web and used it to swing over Sam to shoot another at his wings, jamming the motor and sending him tumbling to the ground, but not before taking out a magazine kiosk.

“You seem to be doing okay.” You said as you met up with him in the beams of the ceiling.

“Y/N, hey!” He exclaimed. “Hasn’t been too bad.” He shrugged casually. “Where did you go?”

“Falling cars.” You shrugged. “Alright, back to work.”

Peter nodded and swung to another beam before sticking one of Sam’s hands to the railing. He slid down to hang out on an information post. You hung out next to him, keeping an eye out for Barnes who had mysteriously disappeared. Sam glared at you two while Peter began talking, again.

“Those wings carbon fiber?” He asked, his curiosity taking over.

“Is this stuff coming out of you?” Sam asked, genuinely concerned over Peter’s web fluid.

“It would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which gotta say, that’s awesome.”

“I don’t know if you’ve been in a fight before, but there’s usually not this much talking.” Sam complained.

“Yeah, well, he’s new. Give him a break.” You interrupted, still watching for Barnes. “Heads up, Spidey.”

“Alright, sorry. My bad.” Peter nodded before swinging. You followed his lead, tackling Barnes through the glass and taking down Sam with him. You and Peter pulled up after the hit, allowing Sam and Barnes to collide with the floor below.

He launched a web at Sam that tied him up and one that stuck Bucky’s arm to the floor. He perched on the information post again and you stayed next to him, an arm on his shoulder and your mask fallen away. Peter looked at you quickly, and you shot him a proud smile.

“Not bad, Spiderman.” You said happily. “Not bad at all.”

“Guys, look. I’d love to keep this up but I’ve only got one job here today and I gotta impress Mr. Stark. So, I’m really sorry.” Peter explained. Just as he finished talking, a small flying robot caught his arm and yanked him out of the building, him hitting the poles nearby before dropping.

“You couldn’t have done that earlier?” Bucky complained.

“That was rude.” You commented before headed to find Peter.

You saw your dad before Peter so you headed that way instead. Tony stood with Nat, who were standing in front of a truck that was spewing flames.

“Where’s the kid?” Tony asked you as you pulled up.

“Sam knocked him out the window. Not sure where he landed, but it looked like the flaming car was a bit more pressing of an issue.” You answered honestly.

“Is this part of your plan?” Nat asked angrily.

“Nobody had planned a full out brawl, Nat.” You sighed. “What do we do now, Dad?”

“Well my plan was to go easy on them.” Tony admitted. “You want to switch it up?”

You could see Steve and his team meeting up as they headed to the Quinjet. Whatever you were going to do, you had to do it now. Otherwise the next team sent after Cap isn’t going to play so nice. Luckily, Vision got in front of the team and blocked their path, giving them a speech and giving you all time to catch up.

Your team made their way over, Nat catching a ride from Tony. You found Peter on your way over, and he shot a web to your ankle as his ride. T’Challa held on to Rhodey, dramatically tucking and rolling for his landing. Peter landed gently on his feet, you setting down next to him. Now, you were all face to face with Steve and his team.

“This isn’t gonna end well.” Nat commented as Steve’s team headed towards your group.

You sighed slightly, following your team’s pace. Once Steve’s team picked up the pace, so did yours.

“They’re not stopping.” Peter announced, unsure of whether your team was going to.

“Neither are we.” Your dad said, determination soaked his words.

Both teams broke into a sprint, or into flight. Tony took on Steve. T’Challa challenged Barnes. Nat and Lang picked up where they left off. Peter jumped off items Wanda was throwing at him. Clint was shooting at anyone he could see before Nat took a shot at him. Peter was swinging through the scene when Steve launched his shield and cut Peter’s web. Hearing him grunt upon his landing, you headed his way.

“Oh shit.” You mumbled before quickly going to Peter’s side.

“Hey, Y/N.” Peter greeted. “I could’ve had this.”

“Not by yourself. I told you, we stick together.” You replied. “You do trust me, don’t you?”

Instead of answering, Peter simply nodded. You reached over slightly, tapping the back of his hand with your fingers. Even though you couldn’t see his expression, Peter grinned wildly as a heat rose to his cheeks. He couldn’t physically feel your touch other than the slight pressure of your hand hitting his. He didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but he didn’t care. You cleared your throat and nodded towards Steve, who looked at you two searching for an easy way around.

“That thing does not obey the laws of physics at all.” Peter commented casually, catching Steve’s attention again.

“Look kid. There’s a lot going on here that you don’t understand.” Steve tried to reason. “I’m sure Y/N can tell you that.”

“Don’t worry about me, Cap.” You shook your head. “I’m not the fugitive.”

“Mr. Stark said you’d say that.” Peter said.

You aimed a blast at Steve’s chest so he’d lift his shield. Peter aimed for Steve’s ankles, yanking hard to pull the captain to the ground. Peter shot at Steve from both hands, sliding Steve across the ground and Peter let himself give into the momentum. His foot collided with Steve’s face, sending him and the shield in separate directions. You took your shot at Steve after he hit a luggage trailer nearby. You connected a kick with his abdomen, adding a sharp upper cut that sent the captain to his knees. Peter rolled away from the collision, kneeling to laugh.

“He also said to go for your legs.” Peter chuckled proudly.

“Keep him away from his shield!” You called, realizing Steve had locked eyes on the disk.

When Steve ran for it, Peter shot a web at his left hand. Then his right. Peter used all his strength to keep the captain back, but Steve eventually overpowered the kid and pulled him forward in an acrobatic move, sending Peter right at you. You were hit by Peter after Steve used him as a projectile and you both went rolling across the gravel.

You both jumped up quickly, Peter shooting a web that was blocked by the shield. Steve grabbed it and pulled Peter towards him to smack his face with the shield, knocking Peter on his back.

“Hey, not the face!” You said loudly, punctuating each word with a quick blast from your palm.

“This isn’t your fight, Y/N.” Steve said when your attack paused. “You can still back out, go home and wash your hands of this.”

“You just made it my fight. Besides, I have investments to protect.” You commented with an eye roll. “Why can’t you just stand down?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

“You want me to stand down? You’re gonna have to put me down, Cap.”

Steve sighed in exhaustion. “You are just like your dad.”

“And you’ve been just like family to me for years, to all of us. And you’re going to let this escalate and for what? For Barnes?”

“He’s my friend. You asked me earlier how many lives is Buck worth.”

“So am I.” You gestured around yourself. “Is he worth all of this? Look around you! What about us?”

“No one told Tony to bring you all out here.”

“That’s the only thing you can say to me?”

You left the ground quickly, shooting both missiles from the top of your forearms at him. He knelt behind his shield, which gave you time to get behind him and fire your repulsors at him. The blasts connected, sending Steve rolling away and giving Peter plenty of time to get up and get ready.

“Stark tell you anything else?” Steve asked when Peter climbed on top of a passenger bridge.

“That you’re wrong, and you think you’re right… That makes you dangerous.” Peter replied before swinging around the bridge and aiming a kick. You held back your next attack, not wanting to hit Peter by mistake.

Steve countered with a kick of his own, sending Peter to collide with the support for the bridge.

“Guess he has a point.” Steve said quickly before knocking out the support with his shield, leaving Peter to hold the bridge up or let it crush him. “You got heart, kid. Where you from?”

“Queens.” Peter replied, struggling to keep it up. You dropped to the ground quickly, running to help him as best you could. You lifted the heavy metal, letting out a struggling groan as Peter also lifted. His knees wobbled from trying to support the weight.

“Brooklyn.” Steve gestured to himself before running off.

“When I say so, you need to get out from under here.” You said between heavy breaths. “Run, swing, roll. I don’t care. Just get out from under here.”

“What about you?” He asked between breaths.

“Ms. Stark, this bridge is about ten times the weight of the cars that landed on your earlier.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke. “Redirecting power to reinforce wrist and shoulder plates. Estimated hold time, 30 seconds.”

“Don’t worry about me.” You shook your head. “Ready?”

“No, I’m not- What about-”

“15 Seconds.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced.

“Go!”

Peter hesitated before rolling out from under the bridge. Your elbows buckled when you had to support the weight on your own. Just before your legs gave out, you were pulled from under the collapsing metal and fell to the ground on top of someone. Your helmet collapsed as you tried to catch your breath, now face to face on the ground with Peter… Well, on top of Peter.

“I told you to go.” You laughed slightly.

“We’re looking out for each other today. Remember?” He shrugged with a chuckle.

“Let’s go find my dad.” You said, quickly pushing yourself up and hiding in your helmet before Peter could see the deep blush and wide grin you had adopted.

“Holy shit!” Peter exclaimed, looking at something over your shoulder.

You turned quickly to see Lang, the guy who was shrinking just a few minutes ago, now the size of a skyscraper. He had Rhodey by his ankle and was chuckling like a child.

“Okay, that’s not good.” You shook your head quickly. “Come on!”

You and Peter were headed towards the massive Lang when Rhodey came flying past you.

“I got him!” Peter exclaimed, trying to stop Rhodey with a web.

“Spidey-” You tried to stop him, but Peter was already zipping away from you. “And there he goes.” You sighed. “Great, now there’s two morons in my life.”

To your surprise, Peter had found footing on the side of a truck and managed to stop Rhodey’s opposing momentum. Rhodey turned himself around and caught up with you, charging back into battle with Peter dangling from his ankle.

“Okay, anybody on our side hiding any shocking and fantastic abilities they’d like to disclose, I’m open to suggestions.” Tony announced after nearly getting smacked with a jet engine.

You, Tony, and Rhodey circled Lang who was momentarily distracted by T’Challa. Rhodey and your dad shot around Lang’s head while you aimed for his shoulders and arms. Peter caught on to Lang’s arm, spinning around it before connecting a solid kick to the side of his face. This wasn’t going to be an easy one to take down.

“What’s the plan, Dad?” You asked desperately. “This guy is the size of a skyscraper and HE ALMOST HIT ME WITH A TRUCK!” You exclaimed after having to spin out of the way of a trailer being swung at you, narrowly able to cut it in half with your suit’s lasers.

“C’mon, don’t throw trucks at my daughter!” Tony called out, equally as annoyed as you were.

“Hey guys. You ever see that really old movie, Empire Strikes Back?” Peter asked over his comms, drawing a mildly disappointed sigh to fall from your lips.

“Jesus, Tony. How old is this guy?” Rhodey asked in response.

“I don’t know. I didn’t carbon date him!” Your dad replied quickly. “He’s on the young side.”

“Y’know that part-” Peter groaned. “-where they’re on the snow planet with the walking thingies!?”

Peter grunted as he spun around Lang’s legs, forcing his ankles closer and closer. You thought to what Peter was referencing, and realized he meant tripping up Lang. You took a nearby luggage cart and shoved it into the back of Lang’s knees, seeing him buckle.

“Maybe the kids are on to something.” Tony said.

“High now, Dad! Go high!” You suggested as you watched Peter continue to wrap Lang’s legs.

Tony and Rhodey came flying in, connecting a solid hit to Lang’s face. You heard Peter exclaim happily as Lang began falling back. Peter, however, was still swinging.

“Get out of the way!” You called out, but Peter was too excited.

“That was awesome!” He turned, now swinging backwards and colliding with Lang’s swinging arm.

You and your dad rushed to meet with Peter. The kid had landed on a pile of boxes, but rolled and hit ten different things till he stopped. You heard Lang land on the wing of the plane he was headed towards but you kept your focus on finding Peter. The boy’s small frame was on its side when you found him, mask inching upwards, and it caused you to freeze. Your dad was the one who stepped to him, both of you letting your helmets collapsed.

“Please be okay. Please be okay. Please be okay.” You whispered, staying a few steps behind your dad.

Tony rolled Peter over carefully. “Kid, you alright?” He asked.

Peter turned quickly, instantly struggling in your dad’s careful grip. “Hey!” He grunted, trying to free himself.

You let out a nervous laugh before joining your dad at Peter’s side.

“Same side.” Your dad said smoothly. “Guess who? Hi, it’s us.”

“Oh.” Peter sighed in relief. “Hey guys.”

“Yeah.” Your dad nodded as it clicked for Peter.

“That was scary.”

“You’re done, all right?”

“What?”

“You did a good job.” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“No, I’m good. I’m fine.” Peter tried to argue.

“Stay down.”

“No, it’s good. I gotta get him back.” Peter struggled.

“You’re going home or I’ll call Aunt May!” Tony threatened.

“Dude!”

“You’re done.” You said gently. Peter tried to stand but wobbled on his feet. You reached up, taking his hand and gently trying to pull him back.

Peter stared down at you in shock. “Yeah, okay. I’m- I’m done.” He nodded slowly before sinking back down. “Are you okay?”

“About as good as I planned to be.” You played it off. Now that you were sitting and the adrenaline was wearing off, you could feel every ache in your muscles. You could feel every throb of a new bruise, the sharp sting of a fracture. The faint buzzing in your ears and blurring edges of your vision from the concussion.

You and Peter watched the last few moments of the fight. Steve and Barnes managed to get the Quinjet out of the hangar. Tony and Rhodey followed, Sam hot on their tail. Vision attempted to shoot Sam down, but hit Rhodey’s arc reactor instead. Rhodey went into free-fall and hit the ground before Tony could catch him. You wanted to rush over and try to help, but you could already tell there was nothing you could’ve done. Instead, you and Peter helped each other to meet up with the rest of your team.

“What do we do now?” You asked your dad gently.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., call Happy. The kids are going home.” Your dad said. “You take Peter home. I have to finish this.”

You dropped to your knees by your dad’s side, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned his gaze to you and your heart ached. He was so visibly distraught. You quickly wrapped your arms tight around your dad’s shoulders, feeling him lean into your embrace. He hugged you back, even tighter than you had him. You contained your wince, feeling a sharp sensation shoot through your ribs.

“Be careful, Dad.” You said when you pulled away. “Come back to us in one piece. Promise?”

“I promise.” He smiled softly.

“I love you, forever.” You replied, holding your hand up.

“And ever.” He took your hand in his, moving your hands up and then down to solidify the promise. This was something you two had begun when you first joined the team, a way of ensuring that you would come home.

“C’mon, Spidey.” You managed to get back on your feet and headed towards where F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you Happy would pick you both up at. You wobbled on your feet, falling into Peter every so often. In an effort to help you, he put your arm over his shoulders and wrapped an arm around your waist. You remembered hearing him ask if that was okay, and you mumbled a yes as you made your way to the car.

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hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Violation of Order

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 14 - Hair Grabbing

Peter settled earlier than anyone else he knew and he could only attribute it to one person. Since then, he and Zara had a hard time being more than a few feet away from each other - he needed her close to protect her from ever going through that again.

Words: 2151, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Tony Stark

TW: Non-Consensual Touching, Implied Sexual Assault, Panic Attacks

Daemon AU

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

Contrary to what popular scientific and psychological research would imply, Peter settled early.

Zara had always enjoyed shifting, bouncing between fifteen to twenty forms a day to whatever suited her fancy in the moment and taking great pleasure in trying every fantastical creature she and Peter could dream up. Peter was always one of the smallest of his peers so she liked to be big and intimidating compared to those around him.

Well, until his parents died.

After that Zara tended to prefer small and agile creatures, animals that could hide in Peter’s pockets or the hood of his jacket – where they could get skin to skin contact. Snakes that could coil around his arms, birds that could nest in his ratty hair, ferrets that could curl up around his neck and tickle his chin. Peter didn’t mind the extra comfort, he and Zara were always extremely close but they couldn’t stand to be more than a few feet from each other after he came to live with May and Ben.

Skip’s daemon had been a wolf – an odd sight in New York – and had held Zara tight in her jaws to get Peter to comply.

Zara had screamed and cried and shifted and clawed at the other daemon to get away resulting in Skip gripping her tightly in one fist and tossing her into the wall. Peter and Zara had screamed in unison at the unwelcome touch and had been stunned enough for Skip to get what he wanted.

When Zara settled into an opossum later that night they had cried together for their lost childhoods. For growing up too quickly. For knowing that it was probably going to happen again and feeling helpless to stop it. Sen and Lotte, May and Ben’s daemons had cuddled and groomed Zara the next day, trying to offer what comfort they could while May and Ben tried to get through to Peter. It wasn’t until months later that Zara finally spoke up on Peter’s behalf to save them.

Peter’s been through a lot in his life but the only thing that came close to have his soul manhandled was the Bite and Ben’s subsequent death.

At the single Easter Mass May had taken him too in his early years living with his aunt and uncle, the priest had described death as beautiful – the entry into the next life. The dust from the deceased’s daemon a shower of blessings on the ones they loved. The dust from Lotte, a beautiful yellow lab, was the least beautiful thing Peter had ever seen as it mixed with the blood coating the ground and settled into his and Zara’s hair. The sight of it washing off and down the drain later was even worse.

Peter’s main goal as Spider-Man became protecting others from having to experience something similar.

“Peter!” Ned said, pulling Peter out of his wandering and back into the present. His macaw daemon, Veerle, was flaring her scarlet plumage and adjusting her wings to balance better on his best friend’s shoulder and trying to peer into Peter’s hood where Zara had been snoozing through the last of his classes. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“Uh… yeah of course!” Peter cringed at the obvious lie in his voice and glared at Veerle who snickered at him. Ned just rolled his eyes.

“I was saying we should meet up tomorrow afternoon to get a head start on that project from Harrington. I can’t take the stress of procrastinating again,” Ned told him dramatically, elbowing him lightly in the side as they exited the doors to Midtown and started walking in the direction of Ned’s house.

“It’s not due for a month,” Peter pointed out, shivering as Zara shifted in his hood, wrapping her tail around his neck and propping her head up to rest on his shoulder with a yawn.

“That’s what you said last time,” she pointed out and Peter flicked her on the nose with a scoff of betrayal, ignoring his friend’s laughing. “Hey!”

“Whose side are you on here huh?” He asked in mock anger before breaking out in a smile. It had been a while since he and Ned had had the opportunity to hang out as just the four of them – too long in fact. Peter was excited for the weekend that they had planned; a pizza and movie marathon of some classic Sci-if and now, assumingely, some homework. Whatever, they were still going to have a great time. All Peter needed to do was a quick evening patrol and he was done for the weekend.

“Ned,” Zara answered, rubbing her nose dramatically with a paw. Peter rolled his eyes at her as he started scoping for a good alley to change in that was close to Ned’s house, spotting a good one not too far ahead.

“I shouldn’t be more than a couple of hours and then I can get started on my part,” Peter promised Ned as he made his way to the alley. “I promise this time.”

“I’ve heard that before,” Ned said with an eye roll, his face a little pinched but still indulgent. “Try not to get stabbed this time.”

“No promises,” Peter muttered as they parted. Not that he would tell Ned if he did get injured anyway; he kept a pretty decent first aid kit with him at all times and he felt pretty confident that he could hide any injury from his friend until it completely healed. The alley he ducked into was empty except for the couple beaten dumpsters that Peter hid behind to change into his suit, offering his open back for Zara to climb into. Patrolling with her wasn’t always the easiest but they had settled into a rhythm for the most part.

Firing a web, Peter took off into Queens, hoping for a relaxing afternoon.

————————————————

It was nearing eleven when Ned sent his obligatory ‘I told you so’ text complete with eye roll emoji that Peter left on read just for the principal of the thing. It had been a busy Friday evening and had only just started to slow down enough for Peter and Zara to take a breather – he was thankful May was working tonight so he wouldn’t get caught inevitably breaking his curfew.

“I think we’re done,” Zara told him with a yawn, her head poked out the top of his book bag and looking over his shoulder as Peter leisurely swung from web to web heading, vaguely, toward home.

He hummed. “One more quick scan,” he compromised and Zara grumbled a little but didn’t protest when he said “Got anything for me K?”

“Sure thing Peter,” Karen’s chirpy voice replied. “An emergency call was just placed two blocks away for a possible mugging in progress.”

“Throw it up on the screen for me,” Peter said, hopping off the roof he was perched on and swinging toward the blinking red dot on his HUD as quickly as he could. Zara sighed from his backpack and kept her head poked out to observe. Muggings weren’t (normally) that big of a deal so she didn’t really hide in the bag as much for those – unless it started to get really hairy.

“That’s all I have! I promise I don’t have anything else!” A man’s voice yelled, the timbre trembling and terrified as Peter swung onto the scene. The victim couldn’t have been much older than Peter and he and his robin daemon were pressed as tightly to the dirty brick wall as they could get, trying to stay away from the mugger brandishing a knife and his corgi daemon – growling and snarling between his legs.

“Lovely evening right gentlemen?” Peter quipped as he dropped to the ground in a crouch a few feet away. “Perfect time to get into a little larceny am I right?”

“This doesn’t involve you Spider-Man,” the mugger said, turning to face Peter instead, his daemon showing her teeth. Zara, head still poked out of his backpack, hissed loudly in return and scuttled up to sit on Peter’s shoulder, anchoring herself with her tail around his neck and digging her sharp little claws into his suit.

“You know,” Peter told him conversationally, standing and trying to telepathically communicate to the victim to make his escape out the other end of the alley. “That’s what they all say but I just can’t seem to mind my own business,” he shrugged as if to say ‘oh well’ and took a step closer. The victim had started edging out of the alley so Peter needed to keep up with the distraction until he was safe. “Now how’s about you put the knife away and I’ll web you to the wall and we all leave here friends?”

The mugger scoffed and turned to look at his victim with a ‘can you believe this guy’ expression on his face before it darkened at the sight of his escaping prey.”Hey!” He yelled, turning fully and reaching out to grab the man – knife raising threateningly. Peter, in an act of desperation, jumped in between them causing the man to grab onto Zara by the scruff of the neck instead.

Peter nearly dropped to the ground under the pain of feeling someone grabbing onto his bare soul and Zara screamed and hissed in the man’s grip, finally biting him on the wrist so he dropped her to the ground, some of her course hair still stuck to his palm and flaking off in pieces. Looking horrified and sick himself, the man took off with his corgi daemon whimpering at his heels leaving Peter alone.

Peter let out a sob, his skin still crawling, and curled up into a tight ball. The last time anyone had touched Zara had been Skip when he had… when he…

“Your heart rate has reached unacceptable levels,” Karen’s clear voice cut through. “Mr. Stark is on his way.”

Peter gasped in response (he couldn’t breathe, why couldn’t he breathe?) and reached out blindly for where Zara was curled up and trembling a few feet away, scooping her into his chest and pressing his masked face into the fur of her side.

“Peter Mr. Stark is three minutes out but you need to control your breathing,” Karen told him gently. “Please follow the prompts on the screen – in for four, hold seven, out eight.”

Peter couldn’t even breathe in for one second let alone four but he tried to follow Karen’s directions – having Zara back in his arms where he could run his fingers through her hair and try to get rid of the unwanted touch that he could still feel phantom echos of helped some but not enough. By the time Tony landed with Silon in his arms a few minutes later Peter hadn’t really managed to improve his mental state by much.

“Oh Pete,” Tony said sadly, stepping out of the suit and kneeling down in front of Peter. “I’m so sorry kiddo.” Peter just let out a loud sob in response but didn’t protest Tony pulling his mask carefully over his head and running calloused fingers through his hair. Silon, Tony’s large serval daemon, cautiously curled over Peter to begin nuzzling Zara, his purr sounding comforting but sad.

“He touched her,” Peter forced out, nearly gagging as he said it, fresh tears spilling down his cheeks for Tony to rub away with his thumbs. “He grabbed her.”

“I know buddy, I saw,” Tony confirmed, levering Peter up to sit cross-legged with his back to the wall and Zara coiled in his lap. “I know there’s nothing I can say that will help but I’ve got Happy on the way. We’re going back to the Tower and we’re going to watch Star Wars and you’re going to cuddle with her okay? It’ll help.”

Peter nodded erratically, gripping Zara tighter for a moment and then releasing her when she reached out one of her paws to Silon. He let her climb onto his back and grip onto him with all four limbs and tail, craning his neck back to groom her gently. “The last person to touch her was… it was… I didn’t want…”

“I know Petey,” Tony told him as he pulled him in for a firm hug that Peter was quick to reciprocate, clinging onto his mentor just as tightly as Zara was to Silon. “I know buddy, just let it out.”

There were some things that Tony Stark could fix – Peter could trust him to try to fix just about any problem he was presented with – but Peter knew that this would be one of those things that would be cracked inside of him forever. Something that no one besides Peter and Zara could work on and something that would always haunt them. But, sitting there with his mentor in one of the dirty alleys of Queens, Peter thought he could feel it mending.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump14 #Prompt: Hair Grabbing #irondad #spider man #Summer of Whump 2021

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rock-n-roll-refugee · 5 years

Text

Ultraviolence~Chapter 1

I had to rewrite this because I forgot to save it... shoot me

PART 2 OUT NOW ON MY PAGE (I’m too lazy and dumb to link)

Peter Parker x Villain!Reader

A/N: This is something I wanna try, and I know I suck at writing and sticking to one project so let’s see how well this goes. And if y’all like this please let me know I feed off your complements :( also idk what The Hand is, i know its from Daredevil, but I'm just using it randomly. sorry

warnings: a lot of swearing lol, violence, blood

If you watched A Clockwork Orange you would know that the storyline follows a madman’s twisted descent into normality. Substitute Def Leppard for the old Ludwig Van and you have the tragic story of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

She had many similarities to the infamous Alex Delarge in which they both are mentally deranged and crave that sweet taste of violence. (Y/N) also took part in somewhat of a gang, but it wasn’t like Alex’s droogs. It was more of an ancient organization of assassins than a gang, but nonetheless, she was on the wrong side of the law. The organization was called The Hand and she was taken in by Bakuto, the leader, when she was only four after her father killed her mother and abandoned a very young (Y/N) on the streets. Her father was a rouge member and destroyed his family so he could escape for himself. Or at least that was the story she was told. Bakuto took her in because he saw potential, or maybe it was just her superhuman powers, for she had the ability to manipulate the elements into any weapon of choice making her an excellent weapon for The Hand.

It was a typical mission, take out a corrupt entrepreneur who had got caught in a bad situation with some bad people. It was a task that she had preformed many times over many years, but today was different. It was her first solo mission.

“Its in and out. Simple as that.” she whispered to herself.

She scaled the building, it was a large villa on the edge Lake George in New York. It was magnificent and it all came from dirty money. The atmosphere gave her a boost of confidence and she decided, why not have a little fun? Unlike the rest of The Hand, she always liked to spice up her assassinations with a little flare. Just like her idol Mr. Delarge, she was always one for the dramatics. A lot of her inspiration came from her favorite movie, as you know, is A Clockwork Orange. However, this was the only film (Y/N) (Y/L/N) has ever sense there wasn't anything to compare to. She smuggled the film into base, knowing she was forbidden to view films from the outside, and that it would disrupt her training, but it was her only memory with her previous family. Her father would watch this movie and to her mother’s dismay, she watched it along with him even though it was a movie very unsuitable for young eyes. What should be considered an awful memory according to Bakuto was something of comfort for (Y/N). Unlike most, she sympathized for Alex Delarge, and even though he was meant to be an evil “anti-hero”, she was able to relate to his strife.

She was lost in her thoughts when she heard the front doors open and close. She snuck to a new hiding spot and watch guests flow into the mansion. There was a corporate celebration being held tonight, and what better way of sending a message than in front of maybe hundreds. The hours passed and it became gradually hard to stay hidden due to the vast amount of party goers. She was ahead of the game however and was prepared for this situation. She changed into appropriate attire for the event, which was a black camisole dress layered with a mesh long sleeve dress with gold embroidery, which was provided to her. She slipped on the obligatory heels and joined the party, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“I don’t understand Mr. Stark, why did you have to bring me here again?” Peter whined at Tony as the exited the car.

“Kid, if you want to be involved with Stark Industries you need to know how to go to things like this.” Tony said waving off Happy.

“Who is this guy anyways?” Peter said trying to keep up with Tony

“This guy is a pretty big investor in my company, and it would be rude of us not to go. He’s kind of a jackass though.”

They maneuvered their way through the crowd, shaking hands and greeting unfamiliar people. They finally found a place to stand, to be greeted by yet more money sniffing mongrels wanting to stuff their greedy hands into Tony’s pockets. Peter slouched over getting bored after only 15 minutes and waiting for this event to be over. He groaned and Tony rolled his eyes and sighed. Peter’s eyes began to scan the room for something slightly interesting, when he caught a good look at her. His posture suddenly improved grabbing Tony’s attention. He watched Peter drool over the (Y/H/C) haired girl in the black and gold dress, watching every move she made.

“Quit drooling kid and go talk to her.” Tony demanded. Peter’s eyes went large.

“Wha-what do you mean Mr. Stark?” Peter stuttered looking back from her and Tony.

“You really aren’t subtle.” Tony said face palming, “quit groaning and go over there. Gives you something to do rather than bugging me all night.”

Tony nudged Peter in her direction and he slowly and awkwardly waddled over to her. She stood in a pretty empty part of the party with her arms crossed, just staring blankly into the crowd.

“he-hey” he said softly

She looked at the nervous boy with her eyebrow raised,

“hi” she said easily dismissing him

“um... so... cool party right?”

“right.” she said giving only a sliver of attention the the boy. Her attitude gave him a weird boost in confidence.

“So, what’s your name?” He asked throwing her off guard.

“Uhhh...” she was preparing to go unnoticed and not talk to anyone, so she didn’t even bother coming up with a fake name. She frantically scanned the room for ideas. She looked over to the bar and saw the bartender pouring a drink for a partygoer,

“Scotch...” she muttered, “Scotch uhhhh...”

She then saw a man walk by wearing a brown leather jacket,

“Leather?” She said unsure.

“Scotch Leather?” Peter asked

“Yeah...” she said mentally face palming.

He began to burst out laughing as she joined him laughing nervously.

“I’m so sorry, I know that’s your name and its very rude of me to laugh, but no offense, that sounds like a stripper’s name.” He said as she scoffed. She realized the humor in it and began to laugh hysterically with him.

Hours went by, and the two just talked and laughed about everything. As night fell, they heard a glass being chimed, attracting everyone’s attention. The host, and (Y/N)’s target stood up in the front of the room.

“That’s my cue” she said to herself.

“Sorry what?” Peter said no catching what she was saying.

“Oh, I said I need to use the restroom.” she said putting down her glass of water, “It was nice meeting you Parker.”

Peter smiled victoriously and marched back to Tony.

“You were over there for a while. How’d it go?” Tony whispered as the host began his speech.

“Amazing! She's smart, and pretty, and my age too!” Peter told him ecstatically.

“Did you get her number?”

“Crap.”

She had changed back into her previous attire and snuck onto the roof where she had a good view of her target. She tied her hair up into a tight bun and slipped on her mask. She had to use her full face mask due to the fact that she walked around the party for a while and enough people saw her face to be able to show it. She groaned at the suffocation and begrudgingly stuffed her head in. It was musty and smelled like sweat, and the connected goggles were scratched up and foggy. The one advantage was that her identity was completely hidden and she looked pretty freaky. She adjusted her suit, which was an all black bulletproof suit that went up to her neck, and cargo pants and boots over the suit.

She reached out her hand and a chunk of metal melted from a bare pipe and flew into her hand, shaping into a katana once it touched her palm. she peaked through the skylight at the target, still rambling on.

“...and to all those who have been a part of my project, I’d like to thank and for the profits, we are making more than we anticipated, so I am making a proposal for the next...”

He droned on for a long time, but she had to wait for the perfect moment. She wanted to make her first solo mission something to remember.

She cut a hole through the skylight and swiftly hopped down right behind him, barely making a noise when her feet touched the floor. She went unnoticed until she stood up behind him. She was merely a shadow, and barely visible, but what caught everyone’s eye was the gleam of her sword. The crowd audibly gasps at the intruder and a frightened murmur is heard throughout the room.

“I know, I know. These new plans are ambitious, but trust me I have a plan to initiate a...” he says, as a reply to the gasps and murmurs.

The assassin smirks under her mask as the host turns around confused as to why the crowd looked frightened, and the moment he is face to face with her she sheaths her katana deep into his heart. The people in the crown scream and run frantically out of the building. She chuckles knowing the scene looks almost like renaissance painting, her and the target dead center, his eyes rolled back into his head, and the frenzy of the guests scattering the ironically serene and exquisite room. It was almost poetic and how she wished she could get a snapshot of the moment. She twisted the sword making the man scream out in pain and retracted her sword, taking one last look at the magnificent scene and scurrying off.

“Hey Peter?” Tony asked, not looking directly at him

“Y-yeah?”

“Do you have your suit on you?”

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ghostburs-blue · 4 years

Text

Lost and Found

Part Four

He stood there with a look of awe on his face, staring at her.

“Um… can I help you, Peter?” Aiden asked, waving a hand in front of her face to break him from his daze. He shook his head, mind still a little foggy.

“Did you… did you just stand up to Flash and his football gang?” Peter asks, realizing that she had already started walking away from him. He ran to catch up with her.

She simply shrugs. “Yeah, it wasn’t exactly hard. There was something about him though, something strange. I can’t figure it out, but I’m going to talk to him and find out.” Suddenly Aiden stops, whirling around to face Peter. He almost walks into her at the sharp movement.

“Something’s wrong, Peter. This isn’t him, I- I can tell.” She turns around again and makes her way to class, leaving Peter standing in the hallway, staring at her retreating figure.

Aiden barely talked to him the rest of the week, focusing on her school work and trying to distract herself from her ever growing crush on Peter Parker. There, she said it. She had a huge crush on Peter Parker, and it was horrible. But, who can blame her? The kid was geeky, adorable, was weirdly buff, had an amazing personality, and, on top of all of that, he cared about her. But no matter how much she wanted to be closer to him, something stopped her. He’s going to walk out of your life, the voice inside her head said. He’s going to be just like Tom and leave. Don’t let that happen, it continued, leaving Aiden in a daze.

Ever since her oldest brother, Tom, had gotten a big break in the acting world, he had packed up, moved to L.A., and left their entire family behind. The worst part was, Aiden had loved him with her entire heart. He was like a parent to her, giving her advice and helping her with life when their own parents wouldn’t. All her trust issues stemmed from him leaving, and she hated every second of it. She hated being so vulnerable, and she hated how much one person could have broken her. Aiden was only 8 when it happened. She was 16 now. He used to at least call for birthdays, but eventually, that stopped too.

What hurt the most was that Aiden would see his face everywhere, in upcoming movies and posters. She would see him in celebrity endorsements and award shows. During his speeches, he never once mentioned his family that helped him achieve his dreams, never once mentioned his adoring little sister who would have done anything for him, never once mentioned everything he left behind and all the hurt he had caused people. He was gone, and it took Aiden years to realize that he wasn’t coming back.

She had almost successfully cut off all communications with Peter, mad at him for getting so close to her so fast. He would only see her when she walked past him in the halls, and even then she would speed walk away from him. It hurt him to see her not wanting to talk; he thought that they had really hit it off and would become close. However, he respected her decision and didn’t try to talk to her. Until one fateful night, that is.

Aiden was in her room; she had just finished all of her physics homework and was exhausted. She was second in their grade only to Peter, yet her parents still pushed her to only settle for first and it put an immense load on Aiden. She was only a kid, after all.

She dramatically fell back onto her bed and was a second away from falling asleep when she heard frantic knocking on her window. Her curtains were closed, and Aiden could see a shadowy figure moving around behind it. She grabbed a baseball bat that she kept beside her bed and brought it up next to her head, then stepped forward and grabbed a hold of the curtain fabric. Yanking it open, she almost dropped her bat in surprise; she was met with the wide white eyes of Spider-Man’s suit.

Aiden immediately scrambled to open the window, and it was when he was climbing in did she realize there was a huge gash running down the side of his body that he was clutching. Aiden helped him sit down on her bed, and when Spider-Man brought his hand away from the cut, it came away bright red, covered in blood.

She immediately went into emergency mode, remembering all the first aid that she had to learn in her self-defense class. Then she remembered who was in front of her, and managed to let out a breathless whisper shout, saying, “What are you doing here?!”

Immediately, the figure in front of her reached up and grabbed the edge of the mask, pulling it away from his face. Aiden’s face went white with shock as she gasps.

“PETER?! WHAT THE FUCK?!” She yelled quietly, not able to hide her surprise. At this point, she can see the tears forming in his eyes, and realized he must be in a lot of pain.

“Please, Aiden,” He cries out, voice cracking. “I- I got hurt and I didn’t know where to go and I know you hate me but please, I need help I don’t know what to d-” Aiden cuts him off with a gentle shake of her head.

“I don’t hate you, Peter, I just- I can’t open up to people that easily. But I’m going to get you cleaned up, okay? Just nod if you understand me, I don’t want you using up your energy by talking.” He gave a weak nod, and instantly a steely glint appeared in Aiden’s eyes. She left the room in a hurry, then came back with her arms full of first aid supplies.

“Peter, I need you to- to take the suit off. I can't clean it without bare skin surrounding it,” Without another word, Peter pressed the spider emblem on his chest. The suit loosened up, pooling around his waist as he sat on the bed.

Aiden’s mind goes back into emergency mode, not bothering to focus on his obvious 6-pack or his strong biceps. She bit her lip, surveying the wound. “I’m sorry Petey, but this is definitely going to need stitches.” When she doesn’t get any response from him, she looks up and notices his eyes starting to close. “Hey hey no. Stay with me, okay? Petey, stay with me. Just breathe.” But, her voice was already starting to sound fainter and far away, and with a loll of his head, Peter succumbed to the darkness.

Quickly, Aiden checks his pulse, breathing a sigh of relief when she feels it. She looked at the wound and realized that he’s probably losing a lot of blood, so she gets to work.

She cleaned the wound, then prepared him for stitches. Surprisingly, her hands didn’t shake, and she tried to recall the training course she took. Taking a deep breath, she got to work.

About an hour and one mini-breakdown later, Aiden was done with the gash and she had already checked for and treated any other small cuts and scrapes on his body. For that, however, she had needed to pull his suit completely off his body, leaving him in only his boxers. Aiden didn’t let herself get distracted as she finished washing her hands and came back into the room.

She had arranged him on her bed properly, but the blood had made a mess on her sheets. She had checked his pulse; it was strong and beating at regular intervals. Staring at him, she had no idea what to do. Checking the time on her phone, it read 2 a.m. Then, it hit her. Tony Stark.

Everyone knew that Peter had an internship with Tony Stark, and it sure as hell didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Being Spider-Man was the internship. Picking up Peter’s phone that she had found in a small pocket in his suit, Aiden prayed that it didn’t have a password. Surprisingly enough, it didn’t.

Scrolling until she found the contacts app, she tapped on it and quickly found the contact name that said “Mr. Stark”. For a second she hesitated, and reality came flooding back to her. It was 2 in the morning. Then, she remembers that she has a boy that was a literal superhero in front of her, and Aiden put it all into perspective. Yeah, she thought. I think this is worth the time and attention of Tony Stark. Even though it’s 2 in the morning. With that, Aiden pressed the call button and put the phone to her ear, sucking in a breath as she listened to it ring.

It rang three times before someone said a tired, “Hello? Kid? What happened? It's 2 in the morning and I’m trying to get some sleep here.” Aiden gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. She instantly recognized his voice. It was actually Tony Stark.

Aiden shook her head to clear it. She tried to sound as confident as she could when she spoke and hoped her nerves weren’t obvious. “Mr. Stark? Hi, I’m Peter’s friend, Aiden. We have a bit of an emergency.” He stayed silent on the other end of the line, as if inviting her to continue. “Um, about an hour and a half ago, Peter showed up at my window with a huge gash down his side, in his Spider-Man suit.” Aiden paused as she heard a sharp intake of breath. “He passed out, from all the blood loss I’m assuming, but not before he revealed that he was Spider-Man and helped me take the suit off. The gash was really deep, and I cleaned him up and stitched it up.” Aiden hears a sound of protest coming from Tony. “No, it’s okay, I’ve taken a course on all the basic emergency procedures and I passed, so I know how to stitch someone up.” Another sigh. “Anyway, he was passed out through it all and he still is. The bleeding has notably decreased and his pulse is strong and steady. I cleaned up the minor scrapes and cuts as well. But, I don’t know what to do now. I thought it would be best to call you because he works for you or whatever. I also know that his Aunt May must be worried sick, which is horrible. So what do I do?” There was a moment of silence. Then, he spoke.

“Kid, I don’t know what to tell you. What you did was incredible and I know Peter is going to be extremely thankful when he wakes up. I think the best course of action right now is to have me pick him up and bring him to the tower. May knows he has an internship with me, I can convince her that I sent her an email already letting her know that he’s going to spend the night with me and she just forgot. But honestly, you did that all by yourself?” Tony lets out a breathless chuckle. “How’s this. It’s obvious you care about him a lot, and he obviously trusts you enough to put his life in your hands. You can come with me when I take him back to the tower, hm? Are you down to do that? I can call your parents and let them know that you have an internship with me and you spent the night.” He finishes off.

Aiden gasps. “Oh my god yes! But, please just promise me that Peter will be in good hands and he’ll be okay. I-” her voice broke a little. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he didn’t make it.” She finished, trying not to cry.

“Hey, listen to me, it’s going to be okay. Give me your address and apartment number and I’ll be at your window in 10 okay?” Tony soothed her.

Aiden gave a little whimper, then nodded, eventually hanging up after giving him her information. She sat beside the unconscious boy on the bed and moved some of his hair out of his face. Slowly, she leaned in and kissed his forehead, whispering, “Please wake up Petey. Please.” She sat there until, exactly 10 minutes after the call, she heard a knock on her window.

Standing up, Aiden already knew who it was, and opened it, letting Tony into her room. But, she was too worried to fangirl about how cool his Iron Man suit looked, or how quiet it was. The front half seemed to dissolve and he stepped out, leaving the suit hovering an inch off the ground behind him. Aiden barely had time to register it as he walked towards her and wrapped her in a hug. He pulled her back to an arm's length and inspected her, smiling.

“Peter chose a keeper,” he said, smiling.

“Bu- I- Wha- Peter and I aren’t dating!” Aiden finally sputtered out.

Tony just laughed and shook his head, saying, “I never said you were, and I think that just proves my point.” Then, as if he remembered why he was actually here, he looked over to see Peter lying on the bed. His face filled with worry, and he quickly bent over to check Peter’s pulse. Sure enough, it was strong and steady. His gash had been properly bandaged, and a quick look underneath told him that the stitching was correct too. He turned to Aiden.

“Color me impressed. You did a really good job, kid. But I think it’s time to head back now.” Tony said.

Aiden nodded, then seemed to remember something. “Hey um, can I bring my backpack and pack a quick lunch for school tomorrow? I don’t have lunch money and I still have a bit of homework to do and a project to work on,” she said quietly.

Tony just stared at her. “I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that to me. Besides, you’re definitely not going to school tomorrow. Looking at the obviously used punching bag hanging from the ceiling,” he gestures towards it, “the sports clothes thrown across the room,” he points to the individual pieces of clothing, “and last but not least, this amazing work you did on a live human in a time of need, you have potential, kid. And I’m making sure you do something with it.”

a/n - ok so I have everything else already planned out and I actually like where the story’s going (knock on wood) but woo ya! Hope you enjoy reading this, my dudes :)

#peter parker #peter parker x oc #peter parker angst #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #tony stark #avengers #tom holland #tom holland angst #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #lost and found #roo’s fics

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fanficsaremylifeline · 4 years

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Hi. My name is Peter Parker. You might know me from such hits as “local idiot accidentally poisons himself” or “resident disaster human being gets his girlfriend lettuce, thinking it were flowers”. (Luckily, both these happenstances went over without too much of a hitch. But you probably already guessed that, otherwise I wouldn't be able to tell you all this, now would I?)

This is the story of another time I – albeit with the best intentions – really messed up.

It all started about ten days ago. I was at home, just minding my own business, when the doorbell rang, followed by my Aunt calling out: “Peter, you have visitors!”

After putting down my comic book, I walked out to the living room, to find Mr Captain America, Mr The Winter Soldier White Wolf and Mr Falcon standing there.

“Uhm hi.”

“Heya, Queens”, Mr America smiled. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah, Brooklyn”, I grinned back. “What brings you by?”

“We could do with your help on a mission.”

“What kind of mission are we talking about here?” Aunt May eyed the Avengers quite sternly, and it was almost funny to see the superheroes, that had fought in World War II shy back in fear. Totally understandable, though, I don't think there's anyone that warrants more respect than Aunt May. Ok, maybe Pepper Potts. And most definitely MJ. MJ, that's short for Michelle Jones, she's my girlfriend the absolute best, most wonderful person, ever. Like, she's so smart, she's really badass and doesn't take anybody's shit. And she's so pretty, like really beautiful, inside even more so than out, although that's not even possible. And when she laughs... The whole room lights up and my brain's entire bio-chemistry just blows up. MJ is the absolute best, perfection incarnate and I realize that I maybe may have trailed off a bit there... Sorry 'bout that, let me get back to the story.

Where was I?

Right, Mr America, Bucky, Sam, a mission and a stern Aunt May.

“It's nothing military”, Steve explained. “It's Tony's birthday coming up and we'd like to get him something special.”

“That's why we need your help”, Sam continued. “You do know him better than we do, after all.”

“And you probably have the best idea what to get the guy that already has everything”, Bucky finished their pitch.

“That is a really wonderful idea”, May smiled.

“Yeah, it's totally awesome”, I agreed. “And I might just have an idea what to get him...”

For purposes of dramatic story telling, I won't share the surprise we got for Mr Stark just yet. Rest assured though, it is a good one.

Spending the afternoon together was a lot of fun. After having gotten the surprise, we all went for doughnuts. The Avengers couldn't stay too long though, they had appointments back at the compound, some sort of meeting, that I am happy to miss out on. Seriously, those Avenger meetings are boring as hell!

So I did what I love doing in my free time: I went out on patrol.

Oh right, that's something else you need to know about me first. Do you see that red figure, swinging through the streets, doing a flip and landing right over there on that rooftop? Yeah, that's me. For I am a superhero! But not just any old superhero, I am the one and only Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man, vigilante par excellence and part time Avenger. As little as I enjoy showing off, I have to admit that this is pretty awesome. I'm super strong, can climb up walls, walk on ceilings and my newest suit update even made me bulletproof! (Well, not me directly, but to quote the one and only Ironman: “The suit and me are one”, so you get where I'm going with this.)

That particular day there wasn't going on too much, though. Few pick-pockets, a car thief, but other than that it was slow, crime-wise. The problem with days like these is that it gives my mind plenty of chances to roam, especially around that one thought: I still hadn't found the perfect birthday gift for Mr Stark myself. Which yes, sounds ironic, given that I had found the perfect thing for the other Avengers to gift him, but not the right thing for me to give him. You see, our relationship started out as this sort of mentorship, where he helped me with the suit, showed me the way around an engineer's lab and is always ready to help out during patrol. By now he's more like my family. And yes, I found this pretty funny shirt, with that graph having a bunny and a duck as the x- and y-axes. No, let me rephrase that, it's not pretty funny, it's freaking hilarious. But it doesn't really say how important Mr Stark and our relationship is to me.

But what do you give the guy who is kind of like a Dad to you?

Unfortunately, even though I'm pretty smart, this thought process took a lot longer than I'd have liked. Even with the help of Ned and MJ, the smartest and best people I know, I got jack with a side of squat. The best thing they came up with was for me to cook a nice dinner for Mr Stark and Pepper. Which would be a wonderful idea, if I could cook something other than toaster-waffles or microwave-popcorn. And, as delicious as either of those are, neither really make for a fancy dinner fit for my father-figure's fiftieth birthday.

“Come on, you can make him a cake at least”, Ned mumbled, clearly caring more about my issue than the Spanish Test we were supposed to be taking right now. And that is the exact reason why he's my best friend and why I love him so.

“Fine. You know how to make a cake?”

“That's what the internet's for”, MJ hissed over.

So that's where I ended up (after getting detention for talking during a test), in front of my computer, googling how to make a cake. But just a cake wasn't enough. It was like a nice entrée, but the main course had to be so mind-blowingly amazing, showing Tony how much he means to me.

At this point of the story I'd like you all to burn into your mind how pure my intentions were and you have to agree that all I'm doing is the most amazing shit. Right, now that we're in agreement that I'm a wonderful, charming person and a delight to have around, let me continue to where everything started to go downhill.

Regrettably, all my fantastic ideas didn't really hit until the night before, which brings me to my first mistake: me thinking I could plan the most wonderful and amazing gift for Tony in about one night. Needless to say, I didn't really think all of it completely through (Mistake 2). And, for added motivation, I ingested an interesting and possibly quite dangerous mix of coffee and redbull (Mistake 3).

At first everything started out perfectly fine. The recipe was simple enough, I barely burned the damn thing and the parts that were a little dark were easily enough covered in chocolate. Some blueberries on top and I even managed to fit 50 candles on top.

Oh, you should have seen Tony's face when I carried it into the compound, he was so happy!

“Peter, that looks so delicious! I'm not sure I'm that old, though.”

“Sorry”, I shrugged and barely bit down my grin, but it's just so much fun to rile up Tony, especially when it came to his age.

“Yeah, yeah”, he grumbled and, with his arm around my shoulder pushed me to the living room, “let's jump ahead before you say something that might make me throw you out of my house.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“How was school?”

Oh fuck. After spending all morning in the kitchen, there might have been something I might have forgotten... (Mistake 4). Shit, May was so going to ground me.

“Nothing unusual”, I lied. (Mistake 5 – never, ever lie to Tony Stark, no matter how big or small the fib). “MJ and Ned wish you a very happy birthday.”

“Thank them from me. Now, the official party that is supposed to be a surprise starts in an hour.”

“Which of course you know about”, I grinned. It was virtually impossible to keep anything from Tony in this building.

“Naturally”, he grinned back. “Wanna sample a taste first, though?”

“I would love to try this perfection of palpable divinities.” (Misplaced confidence and hubris – mistake 6).

“Right.” It was with a roll of his eyes that Tony got a knife out. “So, the trick is to cut out a small slice from the middle, push the sides back together and...”

“Yeah, yeah, what do you take me for?”, I shot back, “I'm not too dumb myself.” That statement will soon be disproved, but let's revel in the beauty that is this moment where everything is still alright.

And for a few glorious moments, everything was perfect. The cake was delicious and Tony seemed to think so, too. Until he started clearing his throat. And again.

“You alright?”

“What's in that cake?”, he coughed, loosening his tie. “Not walnuts, is it?” (And that would be mistake 7).

“Uhm yeah?” Well shit. “Please don't tell me...” Of fucking course Tony would be fucking allergic to my birthday cake. “FRI, tell Bruce we're on our way to the medbay.”

“It's ok”, Tony choked, “I'll be...”

“Yes, you'll be fine.” I tried my all to sound not too panicked, I'm honestly not so sure if I succeeded, what, with my focus being on trying to get Mr Stark some help. Admittedly I all but carried him to the medbay, which he probably didn't appreciate as much as I hoped he would, but well. Safety first. (And maybe, next time, figure out what allergies the people around me have).

A shot from Bruce later, it was ok again. I would love to say it was great, but well. The admittedly disgusting looking swelling around his neck went down, and he even managed to sort of breathe again, but it still didn't look all that healthy. In short: it fucking sucked.

“Hey kid, it's alright, lived through worse.”

That might have been true, but then it hadn't been my fault. And it had been on the battlefield, not within the safety of his home and the comfort that was supposed to be his birthday party.

“And you didn't ruin my birthday”, Tony continued; apparently now able to hear every single one of my thoughts. “It doesn't matter if I look a little puffy on the pictures. It's still gonna be a fantastic party.”

“Of course he knows about the party”, Bruce scoffed. “Who blabbed?”

“Nobody did”, Tony made clear, “I'm a genius, remember?”

“Yeah, so are the other people present.”

Not that I felt much like a genius at that very moment. And Mr Stark was definitely in worse shape than “just a little puffy”. The rash had gone down a bit, but under normal circumstances Tony wasn't that red unless when wearing his iron suit and he tried not to let anything on, but I was pretty sure that whatever Tony would try to eat would be immediately thrown up again.

The other Avengers thought the whole thing to be hilarious. Which it really wasn't. Trust me. I know I wasn't the one who who almost died, but almost killing my father-figure? Being the person responsible for taking down Ironman?

Given the – hopefully understandable – embarrassment, I'm going to skip telling you about the teasing, the comments, the jabs, the laughter and everything the Avengers dished out. Well, as luck would have it, my actual present was still to come and that just had to blow everybody's mind enough that they'd forget my poisoning of Tony.

So not too long into that horrible party, I happily excused myself and headed straight for mistake number 8: letting my frustration motivate all my next moves. It would probably be best to tell you what I envisioned for my proper gift: personalized fireworks. Before you say anything, I now know that it was a horrible idea. There is probably no need for me to tell you what happened next, is there? To put a painful story short there was a loud bang and then things around me go dark.

If I'm being perfectly honest, I couldn't tell you much more details about that very situation if I wanted to, it's all a little hazy and Mr Dr Bruce say it's to blame on me hitting my head when that explosion threw me across the workshop. That we know thanks to FRIDAY, the Stark AI, having recorded it all and it would have been quite nice to remember that because the footage looks rad.

Anyways, I survived. Yay! Aunt May threatened some workshop-restrictions and a bit of grounding, not so yay, and MJ called me a dumbass, which is MJ-language for 'I'm glad you're not dead and I love you'. So, yay on that as well.

At the end of the day it was just Pepper and Tony cuddled on one couch, Happy and Rhodey decidedly not cuddling on another and me with my head on Aunt May's lap while she put her fingers through my hair, which is just the most soothing feeling in the world.

“I don't want to kill the mood, but mind telling us why you first tried to kill me and then yourself?”

“I didn't try to kill anyone. I just wanted to give you the perfect birthday gift.”

“That is the absolute sweetest thing”, he smiled. Well, I think he smiled, his face was at that point still weirdly swollen. “But you do know that every gift from you is the perfect gift, right? Even those ridiculous shirts are worth more than any Gucci suit.”

“Well, if you're bringing it up...” With that bruise on my face my smile looked probably similarly skew and messed up as Tony's. “If the cake was the entrée and the fireworks the main course, this is dessert.” From underneath the couch, where I had hidden it, I got out the last present. It took me probably an hour to wrap that damn t-shirt, suffered countless paper-cuts, invented half a dozen new swearwords and it still looked like it got caught under a steamroller. Maybe giving gifts just isn't my strong suit...

“This doesn't blow up if I open it, does it?”, Tony grinned.

“I didn't expect the other two to go that disastrous, so who knows?”

It didn't blow up, in case you were wondering. And Tony loved it, in case you were wondering about that.

So there we are. I am an idiot, yes, I know that, Mr Stark knows that and you know that, but I believe I'm an adorable idiot. It's been a few days since Mr Stark's birthday, I'm all healed, as is Tony. Of course I have not yet lived it down; the Avengers unfortunately aren't forgetful when it comes to idiocy and therefore I have repeatedly been gifted walnuts over the last few days and will continue to receive them for a long time to come.

But that's alright. The best gift, as it turned out in the end, wasn't for Tony, but for me: at his latest press thing, Mr Stark actually wore the shirt I got him. An official SI press conference, with the most prestigious papers and news outlets from all over the world and he showed up not in a fancy expensive suit, but in the damn science-pun shirt about rabbits and ducks. And all the explosions and near-death experiences can go to hell, because the very picture of Tony wearing MY shirt adorned all the newspapers this morning. And that's the best present anybody could ever get.

The End

Oh shit, wait, I totally forgot to tell you what the Avengers got Tony! You're going to love this. A little hint: Pepper wasn't all that happy about it. Yeah, you got it: a giant plush-bunny! Exactly, it's amazing.

Huh, maybe I'm not that bad at having gift ideas after all...

#peter parker #spider-man #may parker #captain america #steve rogers #sam wilson #falcon #bucky barnes #winter soldier #ned leeds #michelle jones #tony stark #ironman

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twokinkybeans · 4 years

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Tempio Di Pietro Chapter 1: Tensione

A Jar Of Dirt Spin-Off Peter x Tony (x MJ)

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Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading this! This is a short spin-off series to Jar Of Dirt. You can read this as a standalone but there might be hints missing. We definitely recommend you to read Jar Of Dirt first! x Lien & Kim

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Chapter 1: Tensione

Peter takes another bite from the chocolate-chip cookie and smiles happily. Yesterday was so much fun. He’d never baked cookies with Tony before, well, Tony had never, in his entire life, baked cookies before. He was adorable, white patches of flour staining his Black Sabbath hoodie while looking into the oven every thirty seconds to see if they were ready. Tony in the kitchen will always be a heartwarming sight for Peter.

Peter grins when he hears the ping of the elevator, doors sliding open. Good. Tony’s done early today. “Daddy, I missed you today!” Peter turns around, feeling the blood drain from his face when he sees MJ standing in the elevator. A smug smile playing on her lips. “Oh wow, now that’s a warm welcome!” “Oh! MJ! I… I didn’t- It’s not what it sounds-” Peter stammers but MJ interrupts his weak excuse with a chuckle and a small wave. “Sure thing, Pete.” Peter’s cheeks are burning at his mistake. God. He knows MJ has her subs call her daddy and now he called her daddy- fuck, fuck, fuck. The girl snorts at his awkwardness and walks over to him. “Dude, it’s no big deal. Kinda figured Tony would get off on being called that. C’mere, missed you.” Peter lets MJ pull him into a tight hug, her soft and warm embrace soothing his embarrassment. Yeah, the timing was unfortunate, but he knows she doesn’t judge him.

“Speaking of your daddy, where is he?” She saunters over to the kitchen, moving around ever so swiftly. Peter loves how she doesn’t mind that this is Tony Stark’s penthouse. Most people are afraid to touch anything. MJ made this her second home the first time she set foot in here. Peter had been afraid Tony would think her to be a little too confident, but no, he adores MJ. Loves the endless discussions he can have with her, without her ever holding back her opinion. Loves the dark, sarcastic jokes. Loves how good of a friend she is for Peter, helping him crawl out of his shell after the MIT incident. “Oh, he’s uh, in the lab,” Peter stammers. Working on our Stark Industries sex toy because I broke it last night. MJ cocks an eyebrow at him, sipping on her water. She just knows there’s more to the story and she’s using her silence to spur him on, wanting to know every little detail. Peter just grins, shaking his head and waving her off.

“Believe me, you don’t even want to know this story.” Somehow, discussing his sex life with the girl had become so casual over time. He’s no longer too flushed talking about it. Yet, telling her that Tony made him his own personalized sex toy might be… Too much. “Try me?” She refills her glass and walks over to the couch, slumping down against the backrest and kicking off her sneakers. Peter groans as he follows her to the touch, sitting down next to her. She pats her own legs, inviting him to pop his feet in her lap as he always does. There’s no way she’d let the topic slide now. One day, he asked her why she was so curious about his sex life. She’d been honest, admitting she liked seeing him enjoy himself after… Well, Beck. Plus, she giggled, she liked having inside knowledge on the sexual preferences of the richest man in the world.

“I uh, broke our sex toy last night? It’s… Stark Tech and Tony’s fixing it now.” “Peter Benjamin Parker, are you telling me Tony made you a sex toy?” She shakes her head in disbelief, grinning widely. “What does it do?” “Oh, you know, it changes shapes. It’s either a plug, a dildo, a vibrator…” Peter grins, wiggling his eyebrows. If he’s going to tell the story he’d better own it. “Anything Tony wants it to be.” “Kinky.” “Definitely. This one time he-” Peter shuts up the second the elevator pings. This time, it actually is Tony who comes walking in with, of course, the black cube in his hands. Peter grins at him sheepishly and the man looks between him and MJ, greeting her with a little nod. “Well, now you two are making me wonder what I interrupted?” “Oh, it’s n-nothing, honestly!” Peter rushes out at the same time as MJ’s nonchalant, “-talking about your sex life, why?” Tony laughs at Peter’s mortified face. “Didn’t know you were that much of a tattletale?” Tony smirks and cocks an eyebrow. “Oh,” MJ chuckles. “He really is.” “Yeah? What’d the boy tell you about me?” Tony puts the sex toy on the countertop and heads for the chair opposite them, a curious sparkle in his eyes as he waits for MJ to continue. Peter flushes. Oh, God. He knows that face. He quickly chips in before the conversation gets out of hand. “Really, Mr. Stark-” he mentally curses at himself for the slip up of his name. “-it’s nothing. I just-” He can’t even finish his sentence as MJ puts her hand on his ankle and interrupts him. “Oh, just the usual stuff. The other time he told me how you guys like to have sneaky sex at parties - though, I don’t quite believe the ‘sneaky’ part.” She leans back against the couch, completely in her element. “But also how he calls you daddy and breaks sex toys.” “Toy. Singular.” “Now we’re talking.”

Tony eyes Peter quickly, checking up on him. Peter knows his face is flushed, part embarrassment, part… something else. Tony’s lips curl up when he sees exactly what’s going on and the man shifts in his seat to get more comfortable - ready to take this conversation to the next level. Peter gets off on embarrassment, on being portrayed as a needy little boy. Even more so when publicly. He’s a little afraid they’re crossing a line here, but they’re all seemingly very into the direction of this conversation. “Well, if we’re talking anyways,” Tony starts. “Why don’t you tell her how you broke the toy?” “Oh God,” Peter stutters, eyes widening as he stares at his boyfriend. He knew Tony was going to push further but he hadn’t expected this. He swallows, glancing sideways at MJ. The girl grins.

“Please, do tell, Pete.” Peter takes a shaky breath, mentally cursing at the slight tingling in his groin. “I… Was uhm-...” He looks at Tony once more. The man nods in encouragement. “I was sucking on it, and uh, Tony slammed into my G-, uh, prostate, and I just accidentally bit down too hard. Y’know, Spidey strength,” he stammers. MJ looks rather impressed. “Sucking on a toy, uh? Now that’s one I should try with my subbies next time. You got any more good ideas, Tony?” Peter shifts and tries to pull his legs up, but MJ’s thumb brushes past the skin of his exposed ankle so gently it has him shiver. He decides it can’t hurt being so close to her just a little longer. “Depends,” Tony replies slyly. “What kind of Domme are you? Gentle? Rough? Mean?" “Hmmm, Gentle Femdom big time. I like giving my subs physical pleasure while degrading the fuck outta them at every chance I get.”

“Oh, in that case, you ever tried making them wear a plug, or any toy for that matter, and go shopping?” Tony grins. Peter blushes as he remembers the time he and Tony did exactly that and he actually moans at the memory. “Seems you liked that, Peter?” MJ whispers softly. Peter’s breath hitches and he’s not sure what to answer. So he simply nods, shifting in an attempt to cover his half-hard cock. MJ smirks and bites her lip. “I’ve never actually worn one up my ass, so I don’t really know what it’s like.” Oh, no. “What’s it like, Pete?” “It’s, ehm…” Peter presses his lips on top of each other and looks at Tony. The mischievous glimmer in the man’s eyes already says enough, but he nods for good measure. “Feels good,” Peter breathes out. “Makes you feel so full and- and it moves.” He swallows and stares at his half-eaten cookie on the table, not daring to look either other participants of this conversation in the eye. “With every step you take.” MJ nods with an approving look on her face.

“Sounds nice. Anything to add?” Peter’s mouth is dry. There are a hundred more things he could add. A hundred more things he could say, but this… This feels so weird. Terribly wrong but… So right. “Sometimes da- Tony makes it buzz.” “Oooh,” MJ sing songs. “That must hit you in all the good places, right?” Peter hates how casual MJ is. Hates Tony’s intense stare. But he loves it. He loves it so much. Peter nods, maybe a little too frantically and he sucks in a breath. “Speak, honeybunch,” Tony orders and Peter automatically nods again. “Yeah- yeah, feels amazing. I couldn’t walk at some point, -was too much.”

MJ smiles and suddenly changes the subject. “Honeybunch!” She exclaims. “I almost forgot about that. I wonder what else you call him, Tones.” “Oh, you know, the usual. Sweetness… Sweet thing, baby, good boy... “ Tony shows Peter an endearing smile and is obviously pretending all those words don’t go straight to Peter’s cock. “All the things to make him soft and pliant.” “That means there’s more.” MJ grins. “Oh…” Tony’s expression grows darker and Peter shudders at the sight. “Definitely.” He pauses for dramatic effect and Peter squeezes his eyes shut, anticipating the rush of arousal that will shoot through him soon. “When things get a little rougher on the bed he’s my slut.” Peter’s dick twitches and he licks his lips. “My sweet, little cockslut.” Peter lets his head fall back over the armrest and can’t contain himself anymore. His breathing has turned to soft whimpers and MJ’s constant rubbing of her thumb over his calf is doing things to him he would never dare to admit. But they’re all seeing it. There’s no denying that Peter is a horny mess on the couch and he jolts upright when he feels MJ lean over his legs that are still resting on her lap.

He relaxes slightly when he notices she reaches for something on the table, but his pleasure contorted face turns into a pout when he realizes what MJ is going for. His cookie. She comes back up to sit comfortably again and maintains eye contact with Peter as she asserts her dominance by taking a bite of his half-eaten cookie. “Oh,” she says quietly after swallowing. “This was yours, wasn’t it, sweetness?” she grins and leans forward to hand it to Peter. He doesn’t even raise his hands anymore, he just leans in and opens his mouth, wrapping his lips around the cookie as he closes his eyes. He moans softly as the sweet treat melts on his tongue, but then he realizes what’s happening and his eyes fly open. He pulls back, cookie still in his mouth and MJ cocks an eyebrow at him. She rubs the fingers of her hand together to get rid of the crumbles and then looks at the tips before locking gazes with Peter again. She slowly brings her hand up and wraps her lips around her index finger, then her thumb and then her middle finger. “Tastes good,” she says softly. Peter swallows his cookie and gasps for air. His cock is achingly hard right now and it’s extremely visible in his sweats.

It’s quiet for a second. All three people in the room are weighed down by the sexual tension in the air. It’s only when Peter manages to move to wipe his fingers on his shirt that MJ suddenly pats her hand on his legs and pushes him off her to stand up. “Alright, losers-” she says with a grin. “I’m off.” She walks past Peter’s face, putting in a little more effort to sway her hips and Peter goes pale when he smells it. When he smells her. MJ is so turned on that Peter can smell her. Fuck. Peter jolts when her hand suddenly rests on top of his curls and he looks up at her with big eyes. She smiles down at him and then sneaks a glance at Tony. “I’ll leave you two to it.” She tugs at his hair slightly before making her way to the elevator and Peter can’t stop staring at her. At the shape of her body, the lines of her curves. Her ass. When she steps into the elevator she twirls with an evil grin on her face. Her mouth is half-opened and her head is slightly angled up when she seductively moans.

“Go be a good boy for daddy.”

The second the elevator doors close, Peter’s head whips around to stare at Tony wide-eyed. The man simply cocks an eyebrow and nods at his crotch. “You heard her.” Peter looks at Tony’s hard cock pressing through the fabric of his dark jeans and his mouth salivates at the sight. The boy slowly pushes himself off the couch. He’s too focussed on Tony to realize he could have stood up to walk. Instead, he crawls. His own hardness grazing past his loose sweats. Tony can’t help but smirk as he pushes his jeans down his butt and Peter nearly drools when his daddy casually cups his shaft through his underwear. Peter slowly moves up, curling his fingers around the hem of Tony’s pants aiming to pull them off completely. Once they’re discarded, he shifts to sit between Tony’s legs on the floor. He looks up at Tony, who leans forward to take Peter’s face in both his hands. “D-daddy,” Peter whimpers. His eyes flutter and his nostrils flare when he breathes in Tony’s cologne. “Oh, sweetness. You look so pretty when you’re all hot and bothered.” Peter shuts his eyes, relishing in the sensation of Tony’s warm hands covering his cheeks. Peter lets himself be guided as Tony pulls him closer to his crotch. The man’s hands move back on Peter’s head, tugging at his hair. Peter moans and hips buck against the chair.

“Go on then,” Tony whispers with a smile. Peter doesn’t wait. Now that daddy has given permission he’s going to go all in. He opens his mouth wide and licks one long stripe over Tony’s dick through the fabric of his underwear. “Oh, that’s right, right there, boy-” Tony is so hard. Peter can barely believe that Tony got turned on watching Peter get… Dominated. By MJ. The younger man growls and teethes at the hem of Tony’s underwear. “O-off,” he moans. “Need you-” “Oh, sweetness,” Tony coos, complying with his sub’s wishes. “So eager to please.” Peter nods, squeezing his eyes shut as he laps at the skin of Tony’s now exposed cock. The older man gasps when Peter suddenly takes the man’s shaft in his mouth, without warning. He scoffs a laugh. “Very eager, aren’t you?” All Peter can do is moan. He brings up his hands to help jerk Tony off while his tongue swirls around the head. He hollows his cheeks and sucks ever so gently. Tony’s muscles relax as his eyes roll back and he sinks into the cushions of the armchair. “Oh, Peter, you feel so good on me, o-oh.” “Love you,” Peter whispers before he wraps his lips around Tony again and the man can’t help but smile. “I love you too, caro mio-”

It’s not long before Tony sits up straight to tug at Peter’s head a bit more aggressively, urging the boy off his cock. “Undress yourself for me, Petey, I want to take you to the bedroom.” Peter gasps at the word but frowns slightly at the implications. “But- your back-” “Uh-uh, don’t you dare ruin the moment, kid. I know how much you weigh, I deadlift half of that every week. Off with those clothes. Want you to sit down on top of me, want to fill you up.” Peter grins while he undresses. “Daddy’s overselling himself,” he says cheekily and Tony huffs. “Thought MJ told you to be a good boy for me, Pete.” Peter halts his movements, shirt half over his head and he realizes Tony could literally see his cock throb at the sentence. When he finishes taking off his shirt he’s met with Tony’s shit-eating grin. The man knows exactly what he’s doing to Peter and honestly… Peter loves every second of it. Tony is still lazily stroking his cock while staring at Peter’s. The boy climbs on top of his daddy and angles himself so Tony can push in. Peter jolts when Tony suddenly grabs his cock to halt him from sitting down.

“Shouldn’t I open you up first, baby boy?” Peter smiles and leans down to press a kiss on the corner of Tony’s mouth. He then licks across the man’s lips and pulls back slightly, only to whisper: “Fingered myself after lunch, so I’d be ready for you.” “Lunch was a while back.” “Need you, daddy, please.” Tony pushes his face towards Peter to bring him in for a hungry kiss. They moan into each other’s mouths as Tony’s hands crawl up to Peter’s hips, only to lower him slowly. Too slowly for Peter’s taste. He’d rather slam down immediately. Feel his daddy fill him up so well- hit him right where he wants him to. “Easy, boy…” Tony mumbles against Peter’s chin before pushing his tongue back into the boy’s mouth, tasting the cookie Peter and MJ ate earlier.

Peter gasps when the tip of Tony’s cock probes his entrance. “That’s it, sweetness,” Tony whispers. “Let me in…” Peter’s body shakes as he lets Tony guide himself further and further down on his cock. He’s doing everything he can to unclench as fast as possible and when Tony bottoms out they come together in an embrace. They stay seated like that for a while, not moving, just taking in each other’s presence, feeling the stretch. Tony’s face is pressed flush against Peter’s chest and after a little bit, he starts pressing soft kisses on Peter’s skin, causing goosebumps to spread over the younger man’s body. Peter desperately holds onto Tony and presses his lips on top of Tony’s head. “Bedroom?” he asks quietly, causing Tony to chuckle. “Needy little thing,” the man sighs, taking Peter’s nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. Peter clenches his jaw, stifling a moan. Tony looks up at Peter, his irises dark with lust, pupils blown wide and he grins. “Let’s go.”

Peter yelps surprised when Tony swiftly stands up, hands on the boy’s ass. Peter’s response, not just audible but also physical has Tony chuckle. “You’re getting a little sticky, Pete.” Peter slowly wraps his legs around Tony’s waist. The movement of Tony’s cock in his body causes him to groan softly. “Don’t want you to drop me,” he scoffs with a soft laugh. Tony squeezes Peter’s butt. “You’re a mean spider, Pete.” Tony starts walking towards the bathroom with Peter’s chest still flush against his face. “Self-preservation, daddy.” Tony arches his back slightly so he can pull back and look Peter in the eye with raised eyebrows. “Do you want to come?” Peter immediately scrambles to hold onto Tony regularly and he ceases his sticking. “That’s what I thought.”

Soon enough Tony manages to carry the boy to the bedroom. Peter smiles up at him as the man gently lowers him onto the soft sheets, hovering over him, kissing him passionately. Tony’s being so gentle with him it makes his heart flutter in his chest. “Daddy…” he whispers, grabbing onto the man’s shoulders, trying to pull him in even closer. He wants to feel Tony everywhere. The weight pressing down on him, the man’s hands exploring his tingling body, wants to hear Tony’s voice whisper sweet praise in his ears. “You want me to fuck you, amore?” Tony whispers against his lips and Peter nods breathlessly, clenching around Tony’s cock inside him. “Please, please move,” he whispers and gasps. His eyes widen when Tony rolls his hips into him, the drag inside him sparking pleasure throughout his entire body. “Like that?” “More, daddy, please, please.” Peter knows he’s a wreck in the very best sense of the word. He’s floating already, his mind easy and calm and fuck, he feels so loved. Tony complies with his wish, picking up speed, rutting into his sweet little submissive with a grin on his face and lowering his lips towards Peter’s ear.

“Did MJ turn you on, sweetness?” Peter jolts at the sudden embarrassment and he lets out a high-pitched moan. Oh, God. Tony’s doing it again, isn’t he? He’s going to whisper the sweetest filth into his ear, stirring up fantasies in his mind. Just as he did with Bucky all these months ago. Peter loves it. Loves him. He nods frantically. "You want to fuck her, don't you? Feel your hard cock slide into her slick, dripping pussy- suck at her tits until they’re sore. Make her feel so good, just cause you want to do that for her. Oh, Peter, how I would love to see who could come more often in a row. Think you can beat a seasoned domme like her? I'd like to see you try.” Peter whimpers at the thought. He wants it. Badly.

"You want to bury your face between her slick thighs? Smell her scent again? ‘Cause I saw it hit you, honeybunch. You liked it didn't you?" “S-Smelled so good, she was horny, daddy, I-” Tony growls into his ears, sneaking his hand between their bodies to jerk Peter off. Hard and fast. Peter cries out when the little sparks just build and build and build. He wants to come so bad. Wants his daddy to fill him. Fill him up like the sweet slut he is. God. He really is. Tony sucks on the skin just below Peter’s ear, harshly, marking him up, claiming him - yet, teasing him with another sweet fantasy.

“Know what it sounds like, fucking a girl, Pete? I do- oh, I do, sweetness. The sound,” Tony gasps, losing himself in the rhythm of slamming into his boy. “It’s disgustingly filthy. The wetter, the better. You can hear it in the back of your head, can you? Can you hear her moaning your name, order you to come?” “Y-Yes, yes, yes,” Peter chokes out, he can hear it; MJ’s soft voice, demandingly sweet. “And you would come for her, Peter, because she told you so. You’d fill her up- mix your cum.” Tony’s voice is breathy and shaky and rough and Peter doesn’t know how to handle the pleasure coursing through him. It’s too much. He’s so close. So close. “T-tell me more, daddy, please.” Peter’s clawing on Tony’s back, fingers digging into the strong muscles he finds there. Tony moans as Peter’s nails press into his skin. His free hand moves up to tug on the boy’s soft curls. “Oh baby, she’d force that sweet little mouth of yours back down on her pussy- make you eat her out. But this time you can taste your own cum too. You’d like that, fuck Pete, you’d like tasting yourself inside her. Like making her cum over and over again until her legs are trembling all around you.” “F-Fuck, daddy, yes, yes!” Peter gasps, panting, pushing his head back into his pillow harshly when Tony flicks his thumb over the tip. Again, and again, and again, and- “Go on then, sweetness, be a slut for her. Come for her.”

Peter cries out when Tony’s words tip him over the edge. His hips buck into the man’s grip wildly, white hot spurts sticking between their bodies. He’s trembling all over. Tony’s low grunts are hot against his neck. “Good boy, fuck, Peter baby, you- Oh yes.” Tony’s voice trails off and a loud, disgustingly filthy groan escapes his throat. Peter feels Tony’s balls against his ass as the man buries himself deep inside of him, filling him up. Peter just takes it all, relishing in the short pants leaving the man’s mouth and feeling Tony’s rapid heartbeat as he collapses on top of him. Peter lets out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck and holding him close while the man rides out his orgasm. “Peter…” “Daddy, that was- fuck.” “S-so hot.” Peter nods, pressing a gentle kiss on top of Tony’s hair. He can’t help the amazed chuckle falling from his lips. He never thought they’d do something like this again. And fuck- he’d loved it. “I love you, Tony,” Peter breathes softly. Tony lets out a satisfied noise and buries his face in the crook of the boy’s neck. “I love you too, baby. Blanket?” “Blanket,” Peter replies with a happy smile, tugging on the sheets and wrapping the both of them into the soft, warm fabric. They hold each other until they doze off.

Tony growls and slams his laptop shut. He can’t see another e-mail, another article, another stupid fucking document, even if his life depended on it. Peter’s head shoots up from the other side of the desk, looking up from his Electrodynamics textbook alarmed. “You okay?” Tony doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t want to snap at his boy - which fuck - he would if he would open his mouth now. He takes a deep breath, holding it for a couple of seconds before letting the air escape his tight chest. He sniffs, his foot tapping on the floor restlessly. This is getting out of hand. He loves his job, doesn’t usually have a problem with the neverending pile of stuff he has to go through. However, lately he hasn’t been able to handle it very well. He’s so stressed. So burned out. So on edge that Bruce had already carefully suggested maybe he should take a couple of days off. But how could he? There were deadlines and meetings and surely he couldn’t just cancel those because his brain couldn’t keep up with it. “No,” his croaks, eyes gazing at the floor. “-I don’t think I am.”

Peter carefully closes his book and walks over to his boyfriend, hugging him from behind. Tony sighs into the embrace, hands reaching up to hold Peter’s wrists, pressing him closer. “Tell me what’s going on, Tony.” Tony sniffs, waving at the work in front of them. “I just… Can’t deal with this shit right now.” He bites his lips realizing how inadequate that sounds. It’s just work. The same old things he’s been doing for years already. “I’m just being stupid, Pete, don’t mind me. It’ll be fine.” Peter shakes his head gently. “You’re not stupid.” He sighs, kisses the top of the man’s hair. Tony melts into the touch. “I am, though. It’s easy stuff, just some editing and basic meetings.” “Tony, stop it. Just because it’s ‘easy stuff’ doesn’t mean it’s easy. You’ve been working so much the past weeks, if your brain needs a little break, take one.” Tony huffs. Peter makes it sound so simple. The man shakes his head. “Peter, I ju-” “Alright, that’s it. We’re leaving this office for the rest of today and don’t you dare protest against it.” Peter pulls Tony’s chair backward to create space between him and the desk. “Wha-” “Hush. Just come with me.” Peter doesn’t give Tony the time to even try and tell him off, grabbing his hand, helping him to stand up. Peter guides both of them outside the office and locks the door, stuffing the key inside his pocket. “I have a meeting with the chemistry team this afternoon, Pete.” “Fri? Please notify the chemistry team the meeting’s canceled.” Tony stares at Peter in astonishment. “You did not just do that.” “Oh, I sure did. Any other meetings I should know about?” Tony feels his face flush. He feels so called out and a weird part of his brain likes it. He simply shakes his head. “Good.”

Soon, Tony finds himself seated on the couch with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders and Peter half-asleep against his side, his head resting on Tony’s shoulder. Peter had taken good care of him; made him a grilled cheese sandwich and made sure Tony didn’t check his work emails as he ate. He’s so glad Peter cut through him. Forced him to put his work down. Maybe he did need this after all. Needed Peter to be strict. He looks down at the bunch of curls and smiles, pressing a gentle kiss on top of it. He hums their Italian tune - ‘Ti Amo by Umberto Tozzi -, the lyrics echoing in his head.

Dammi il tuo vino leggero, che hai fatto quando non c'ero, e le lenzuola di lino. Dammi il sonno di un bambino.

He freezes when it suddenly hits him. Give me your light wine you made while I was away, and the linen sheets give me the sleep of a child. The lyrics take him right back to the spa. How he knelt in front of Peter, how he made him feel good; fed him the grapes, massaged the warm oil into his God’s body. He needs that again. Craves the submission. Peter’s gentle but demanding touch. He needs to give up control.

He needs to give up control.

“Peter?” His voice is shakier than he’d like it to be. Peter shifts, mumbling a soft “Yes?” as his eyes flutter open. “I- would… Would you be my Cupido today?” Peter whips his head up, to stare at Tony. Tony’s throat feels so dry, his heart thumping in his chest as he waits for Peter to answer. He knows Peter loved their little roleplay, but he has no clue if he’d want to do it again. “Did you just ask what I think you asked me?” “Well, yes? But only if you want to, of course.” “I- I can try, but I don't know if I can?” Peter replies slowly, sitting up straight. “I’m not a natural dominant like you, Tony.” Peter stares at the look that flashes across the man’s eyes and he smiles. “But I can’t say no to a sweet servant like you, why don’t you get down on your knees?” Peter whispers. He’s not sure how this will turn out. He doesn’t feel anything near the God he’d been in Italy. The environment of the penthouse just feels… off. Tony fucked him nearly everywhere in this place; domming him. He does want to try it though. Tony carefully puts the blanket away, kneeling in front of Peter. “My lord,” he whispers. “-you have taken such good care of me today.”

Peter looks at Tony, smiling. He carefully reaches out for the man’s face, dragging the tip of his finger across Tony’s bottom lip. The man’s eyes flutter shut at the gentle touch. Tony looks beautiful like this. Peter wants to dom him. Wants to take him apart. He just… Can’t. Not here. He pulls his hand back. “Tony, I-I’m sorry. Yellow.” The man’s eyes open wide and he scrambles up quickly, sitting down next to Peter again. Peter swallows, biting his lips. “Don’t get me wrong, I want to do this with you, Tony. It’s just…” Peter waves at their surroundings. “In here, it doesn’t feel right. I’m just Peter. Peter’s not a dom.” Tony shakes his head, taking Peter’s hands in his. “It’s okay. I… Guess it feels off for me too.” Peter groans. He doesn’t want to disappoint the man. Tony barely asks for something as specific as this and now it seems like it’s not working out. Peter feels bad about it. If only they were at the spa. The lush greenery surrounding them. The luxurious marble baths. Peter feels his body tingle at the thought, a hint of Cupido shining through. What if…

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” “Yes, Peter?” The boy can’t help but grin at the confused expression on Tony’s face. “Can you please book the Italian Spa for two this weekend. Friday till Monday.” Peter leans back on the couch, actually feeling in his element right now. Tony shakes his head. “I can’t-” “And cancel all of Tony’s appointments.” “I have canceled the appointments, are we taking this from your account, Peter?" F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks. Peter intently stares at Tony and Tony stares back. They both know Peter can’t afford this. They both know how much Tony likes it when Peter shamelessly spends the billionaire’s money. So Peter grins when he licks his lips and answers. “Tony’s.”

Peter squeals startled when Tony attacks him with a hot kiss. His warm, soft lips sweet on his own. “Fuck, Pete- Telling me straight-faced you can’t dom me in the tower and yet you pull shit like that?” “Daddy-” Peter whimpers, melting in the man’s demanding embrace. Tony’s lips graze past his cheekbones, up to his ear while leaving featherlight kisses. Occasionally giving a gentle suck on the sensitive skin. Peter loves it. Relishes in it. “Kid, you’re gonna be the death of me.” Read More: Chapter 2 (yet to be posted) Masterpost

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