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#Peter: *sobbing for Tony to not die*
buckyshairstylist · 5 months
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Aww, your tony is so precious, can you write a very happy dad tony spoiling his pregnant wife?
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Tony Stark x Fem!Reader
Summary: Tony is truly the best husband Y/N could ask for.
CW: pregnancy, mentions of food, fluff. Not edited.
WC: 1,348
AN: Sorry it’s taken so long to get this done! College classes and work has taken up all of my time and I finally found a free moment to finish this. I hope you enjoy it and I’m so sorry for the wait, anon!
To say that Tony was surprised to find you sobbing in the middle of your bed was an understatement. He’d left you alone for fifteen minutes — long enough to shower to wash off all the dirt and grime that came with his occupation — and now you were on your bed, sobbing.
“Honey, what’s wrong?”
You sniveled miserably, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “I just love you s’ much, Tony.”
Tony ducked his head to hide the small laugh, masking it with a cough. He made his way to the bed, climbing onto it and gently pulling you against him.
“I love you too, dear.”
One hand rubbed up and down your arm, the other resting on your swollen belly. You sobbed into his shirt, clinging to him.
“Don’t leave.”
“I would never leave you, honey,” he assured you, pressing a kiss to your hair.
“…Tony?”
Tony hummed in acknowledgement.
“Will you rub my back, please?” you requested, wiping at your eyes. “God, I’m such a mess.”
“It’s normal. Just… lie down for me.”
You huffed but did as you were told, awkwardly maneuvering to where you could lie down. Tony helped as much as he could, one hand pressing against the small of your back. Tony laid directly behind you, his hands instantly moving to your shoulders.
“You’re the best, y’know that, Tony?”
Tony smiled at you. “Of course I am, baby. I’m Tony Stark.”
“Rhodey says you’re Tony Stank.”
“He is never gonna let that die,” he huffed, working at the tight muscles in your back. “God, honey.”
“What?” You turned your head slightly so you could hear him better.
“Your muscles. They’re so tight. Stress isn’t good for you, you know.”
“I know, baby, but stress is normal for me,” you reminded him.
“Honey, stress isn’t good for you or the baby. Heck, it’s not good for you even if you’re not pregnant! Don’t make me install a protocol where Friday has to snitch—“
“Don’t you dare, Anthony Stark.”
Tony giggled. You huffed, gently (or rather, lazily) swatting at him.
“I can’t believe you’d even suggest it.”
“Alright, since the protocol is a no, how about I find someone to keep you company?”
“Tony, I swear—“
“Just someone to keep you company when I’m gone.”
You hesitated, thinking about the potential victim of that scheme. Realizing who Tony would volunteer for the position (and who would happily take it if asked), you sighed.
“Tony, do not bring Peter into this.”
“I never said Peter. You did. And it’s a brilliant idea.”
“No.”
————————————————————————
“Hi, Mrs. Stark!” Peter chirped as he entered the penthouse, waving.
“Hey, Peter,” you smiled kindly at him. You took in his appearance and quirked a brow. “Lab day?”
“Yeah. Mr. Stark wasn’t in the lab, though, so I came up here.”
You hummed, grabbing a second mug out of the cabinet.
“You want some hot cocoa?”
“If it’s no trouble, Mrs. Stark.”
“It’s no trouble at all, Peter. And you don’t have to call me Mrs. Stark. Y/N is fine,” you reminded him, though you’ve nearly given up on him ever using your name.
Peter smiled cheekily. “Okay, Mrs. Stark.”
You groaned playfully, earning a laugh from the boy that had stolen both yours and Tony’s hearts. Peter had one of the strongest support systems in the world — you just weren’t sure he was aware of that.
“How have you been?”
You placed a mug in front of him as you huffed. “I’ve been okay. Emotional, but only Tony gets to deal with it.”
Peter snickered.
“How about you?”
“I’ve been great, Mrs. Stark! Aunt May—“ Peter launched into a rant, rambling about everything that had happened since the last time you saw him. You listened attentively, interjecting where appropriate and responding to the conversation.
Tony stepped out of the elevator around the time he started to tell you about the new Lego set he’d been working on with Ned.
“Underoos, kid, I’ve been texting you for the last twenty minutes.”
“Oh! I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I’ve been talking to Mrs. Stark.”
“I can see that,” Tony smirked. “Change of plans, kid. It’s now movie night.”
“Oh, okay! I, uhm, are you sure, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked uncertainly.
“Positive, Pete. What are we thinking for dinner? Pizza?”
“Yes!”
“That’s fine, Tony,” you smiled at him. Tony smiled softly, giving Friday the order to order the pizzas from your favorite pizzeria.
“Hey, Pete, why don’t you go grab some blankets?”
Peter nodded and took off down the hallway.
Tony moved to where he stood beside you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “C’mon, Mrs. Stark. I think some cuddles are in order, don’t you?”
You ducked your head as you felt your face heat up, a smile flitting across your lips.
“I think so, Mr. Stark.”
“You know, I went out today. It was supposed to be just to get a part for the car I’m working on, but I ended up seeing some things that I thought you would like and some things for the baby.”
“Tony—“
“Let me finish. They’re already in our room, they’ve been put where they won’t bother you. You can look at them whenever you want, you don’t have to do it today. But I think you’ll like it.”
“Tony, I’m happy with you just being here. You don’t have to buy me things to make me happy—“
“I know that,” he sighed. “I like to buy you things. You’re important to me. You should have everything that you desire, even if it’s something as ludicrous as the moon.”
“—and you know we have more than enough baby stuff, Tones.”
“This—you are the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me, honey. And our baby? That’s the best gift. I’m so grateful for you and for our baby, I’ve just—I’ve got to spoil both of you. So let me spoil you, and let me spoil our baby. It’s not gonna break me.”
After a few seconds of silence, the two of you merely watching each other as the silence dragged on a few seconds too long, you smiled at him.
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t be opposed to you spoiling me a little bit. But don’t spoil the baby too much, Tony.”
“I would never do such a thing,” he denied instantly. You scoffed. “What, you don’t believe me?”
“Not really, no.”
Tony snorted. “Fair. C’mon, I wanna show you this really quick. It’ll take Pete at least another five minutes to find the best blankets.”
You giggled, knowing that Peter would probably find every blanket he could before deciding which ones were appropriate for movie night.
“You know… I know that you purposely sent Peter up here.”
“I did not.”
“You did, Tony. You’re testing the theory you mentioned last night. Don’t bring Peter into this.”
“Peter’s already involved, Y/N,” Tony reminded you dryly. “He’s our unofficially adopted son, remember? Therefore, he’s our child’s unofficial older brother.”
You hummed as you followed Tony down the hallway, fingers entwined. Tony gently tugged you into the bedroom, where you noticed several bags dropped in one corner.
“Don’t worry about those. Some of it is genuinely for the lab.”
“It better be, Tony, or I swear—“
“It is, I promise. Now would you come over here? I want to see how these pajamas look on you.”
“Pajamas?” You raised a brow. “Like really soft pajamas?”
“The softest for my beautiful wife,” Tony beamed at you. “I saw them and I thought you would like them. I’ll show you the crib I bought later.”
“Tony, I thought we promised to do that together.”
“Baby, trust me, you’ll love it.”
He handed you the pajama set he’d mentioned, desperately hoping to take your mind off of the crib. You ran your hands over the material — soft, fluffy, and warm. You wasted no time in changing, much to your husband’s amusement.
“There’s my pretty girl,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips. “C’mon. I’ll rub your back while we watch the movie with Peter. I’ll show you the rest later.”
“Tony—“
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irondad-defensesquad · 6 months
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“Whoa there.”
Today, they’re not having lab time; instead, they’ll relax and watch a movie together. Hence why Tony comes to the door to get the kid.
… only to be hugged immediately after.
Peter glues to him like a koala, arms and legs holding him tightly. Tony can’t help the chuckle.
“Miss me much?” He jokes.
The boy doesn’t snark back.
He doesn’t say anything. At all.
He…
“... Peter?”
He’s trembling.
“Peter,” Tony says seriously. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
The kid is shaking his head against his shoulder.
Tony feels… something wetting his shirt.
“... I watched you die,” Peter says, crushed. “Y-You were bleeding so much…”
“Oh, Pete,” Tony returns the hug more properly. “Did you have a nightmare?”
Peter nods.
“Oh, buddy.”
He doesn’t know if it’s due to the kid’s spider powers, but thankfully, Tony is able to carry him to the couch near them. Peter doesn’t dare let go of him, likely scared that Tony is going to die right in front of his eyes if he does.
“It’s okay,” Tony whispers. “It’s okay, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I-I’m sorry.”
“Shhh, it’s not your fault, kiddo. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I could’ve saved you.”
Tony then realizes, this isn’t just about him.
It crushes his heart.
“I’m here,” Tony says simply. “I’m okay.”
Peter sobs painfully. All the older man can do is soothe his back.
Eventually, he can tell the kid’s hold on him relaxes. Still, Tony can tell Peter doesn’t want to be alone again. He won’t let that happen.
“You can tell me these things when you have them, kid,” he says.
Peter sniffs. “I-I don’t want to bother you.”
“You won’t.” He manages to look at the boy’s wet, red-rimmed face. Tony smiles at it lovingly. “You’re my kid.”
Peter stares at him, eyes glowing with more tears. Tony dries them carefully.
“Besides… I think I know better than anyone else how it is to have nightmares. I can help you, Pete. Promise.”
The other looks surprised. “Y-You… have nightmares, too?”
Tony sighs and nods.
Peter seems so shocked. After all, Iron Man is his hero. There’s this ideal around him that nothing can hurt him, for he’s made of iron. People tend to forget the very human being inside, and act like he’s weak for being human.
But of course, Peter is not like everyone else. He’s a good kid who would never think that way of Tony. He’s too good for him, honestly.
“It gets easier,” Tony tells him, “but we need support for that to happen. So you can count on me, okay?” He smiles again. “Even if I can’t see you for any reason, I promise you can call me any time of the day, and I’ll always answer. Anything for you, kiddo.”
Peter looks at him like Tony came from heaven. Even with all the reasons for him not to think that way of the man.
“... you can count on me, too.”
Tony frowns briefly.
“It’s alright, Pete,” he tells him, “you don’t have to.”
“But I want to help, too. You don’t have to handle it alone, either.”
Tony wants to melt. But…
“... I don’t want to hurt you,” he mumbles.
He doesn’t explain it further.
Peter is the one who smiles.
“You won’t. I’ll be okay. I just want you to be okay, too.”
Shit. Now Tony’s eyes are the ones growing deep.
He pulls the kid close to kiss his forehead for a good couple of seconds.
“God, I love you so much,” Tony says dramatically.
Peter snorts. “Love you, too.”
He never expected to grow this attached to someone so quickly, especially after everything that happened in the past few years, but now here he is.
“Do you want to pick a movie, Pete?” Tony asks. “But if you want to do nothing, then that’s fine, too.”
Peter considers. “How about both?”
Tony hums. “Both is good.”
He picks Star Wars but leaves the volume low, as the two lie down, Peter on top of Tony. The kid sometimes repeats a few quotes from the film, but otherwise he’s pretty quiet. He seems tired. Obviously. Poor thing.
Halfway through the movie, Peter has fallen asleep. Tony feels like he has a cat on top of him that he can’t disturb. This is his life now.
And it’s totally worth it.
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cw: vomit
Faking It
—————
Peter squirms in his seat, the AC not nearly cold enough. He’s been sweating from violent nausea for the past half hour, and his stomach is going to kill him. He feels so sick.
“Tony…I know we just stopped and all, but could we please pull over for a little while?”
Tony sighs. “Kid, I told you to use the bathroom.”
“I did, it’s—it’s not that.”
“Alright, then what is it?”
Peter groans, his nausea peaking. He should really tell Tony he’s sick, but he doesn’t feel good enough to speak anymore. His mouth is flooding with watery spit.
“Seriously, kid, we’re not gonna make check-in time at this point.”
Peter shuts up. He’s tired of feeling like a burden. He just curls into himself and looks out the window to the horizon. Maybe that’ll make his stomach stop churning.
He lasts another fifteen minutes, and then he’s pin-straight in his seat, the color draining from his face all at once. His stomach gives an almighty lurch, and he throws up a little in his mouth. He swallows it back.
“Tony, I’m really not feeling good back here,” he chokes out.
“Shit, kid, you get carsick?”
“I don’t know, I just—I think I’m about to throw up.”
Tony swerves his way to the side of the road, but it’s too late. Peter pitches forward, spewing a huge wave of vomit all over his sneakers, his jeans, and the floorboards. By the time the car rolls to a stop, Peter has thrown up three times.
He yanks the door open and all but falls out, vomiting on the grass at the side of the highway right in front of God and everyone. He’s coughing, and retching, and choking, and he’s going to die. He’s sure of it.
By the time his stomach is empty, he’s shaking and seeing stars. He spits, wiping his mouth off on his sleeve. He’s gotta change, anyway.
Tony lets out a string of curses from the drivers seat. Peter’s face burns hot. He turns back toward Tony.
“I’m so sorry,” he nearly sobs, full on exhausted. He wants to go home.
“It’s—it’s fine, kid. Just get in the passengers seat.”
“Okay,” Peter murmurs, thoroughly mortified.
He gets in, stinking like puke, and doesn’t bother buckling himself in. The hotel is only ten minutes away.
The rest of the ride is silent, and though Peter’s stomach feels a lot better, he’s in an awful mood. He’s ruined everything. Instead of going to the conference tomorrow, Tony’s going to have to get his car detailed. Hopefully at Peter’s expense.
They pull up at the hotel, and Tony tells Peter to wait in the car while he checks in so they can just sneak back in through the side and avoid too much attention. Peter obeys, wishing he wasn’t starting to feel nauseous again. By the time Tony comes back out, Peter feels like he’s going to throw up.
He’s quiet as he gets out, being led by a hand on his back. He stares at the floor as they board the elevator, and his eyes stay glued to the floor the whole time until they get in the room.

His stomach turns, and he quickly locks himself in the bathroom, collapsing in front of the toilet. The rest of his lunch comes spilling out noisily. Tony knocks on the door.
“Go away,” Peter chokes out, vomiting again. Tony’s seen him puke enough today.
“I’m just bringing you some clean clothes, kid.”
“Leave them—,” he pukes. “Leave them at the door.”
He’s shaking violently and heaving uncontrollably. He’s not entirely sure his entire stomach isn’t going to fall out. He’s feverish and sore all over.
By the time he can get himself to stop gagging, it’s been ten whole minutes. He uses toilet paper to wipe his mouth and then flushes the toilet, standing on weak legs. He washes his mouth out in the sink.
As requested, Tony left the clean clothes by the door, and once he’s changed, he gathers the courage to face Tony again. His face is burning. It takes everything in him not to get upset.
Tony looks over when he walks in. He’s looking at Peter with pity, and he hates that. He just wants to pretend that none of it ever happened.
“Did that make you feel better?”
He shakes his head slowly, lowering to sit on the mattress. “I’m really sorry I threw up in your car. I should’ve said something sooner.”
“Well, I can’t exactly argue with that second part, but you don’t need to apologize. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not, you’re gonna miss half the conference tomorrow waiting for someone to clean up my puke.”
Tony laughs a little, but Peter isn’t finding any of this funny at all. Tears sting in his eyes, and when Tony sees them spill over, the smile drops from his face. He sits down next to him and settles a hand on his back.
“Hey, I’m not laughing at you. And as for the car, I’m gonna get it cleaned tonight, okay? Everything will be fine for tomorrow. I really don’t want to leave you alone here sick, though.”
Peter feels a surge of panic in his chest. He wipes at his face. “I’ll be fine, I promise. I think it was just something I ate.”
Saying those words out loud makes his stomach churn. He immediately feels sick again. Round three might be coming on sooner than he hoped. He groans.
“Let’s hope so.”
He lays down on his side, curling into himself. Maybe if he can go to sleep, he’ll avoid throwing up again. The turning in his stomach violently disagrees.
He feels Tony’s weight shift from the bed, and he opens his eyes just a little. Tony rubs a hand over his face and goes to look out the window. Peter hates that he’s ruined this whole thing.
He turns over so that Tony won’t see him cry. He feels like such a burden. He has no idea why he gets sick so often, and always at the worst possible time.
Eventually, he does somehow manage to fall asleep. The only reason he knows is because he wakes up at three in the morning, more nauseous than he can ever remember being. He sits up in the darkness, laying a hand on his stomach and willing it to settle.
When he feels something warm at the back of his throat, he immediately gets out of bed and walks to the bathroom as silently as he manage. The last thing he needs is for Tony to know he’s still not feeling good. That would just make everything worse.
He kneels in front of the toilet and begs whoever will listen to keep him from throwing up. He begs, and prays, and begs some more, and then, he vomits as quietly as he can. There’s only so much he can do.
His stomach aches badly, sore from earlier and pissed at whatever is causing this. He can’t believe he still has anything left to throw up. It’s like he ate an entire meal before the last round and this one.
Finally, he stops retching, and thankfully Tony hasn’t knocked on the door. He makes his way back to bed and lays down, eyeing Tony’s sleeping body in the bed next to his. He feels the smallest bit of relief.
After a while, he manages to get back to sleep. He prays he’ll be better in the morning. It’s all he’s asking.
Unfortunately, when he does wake, it’s not peacefully. His stomach is churning, and his head hurts. He feels like he got hit by a bus, and he knows all too well what that feels like.
Tony is awake and already getting ready to go. That’s a good sign that Peter hasn’t completely ruined everything. A little more relief settles in his chest.
“Hey,” he breathes out.
Tony turns around. “Oh, hey, kid. How are you feeling?”
“A lot better,” he lies, and it’s like karma hits him immediately. His stomach rages like hellfire. “I’m great.”
Tony doesn’t look convinced. He walks over to the foot of Peter’s bed. “You sure? Cause I’m pretty sure people don’t turn green when they’re feeling great.”
“I’m good, I promise.”
“Yeah? You hungry?”
And that just feels mean. It almost makes him drop the act. Almost.
He nods. “Mhm. Do they serve breakfast here?”
Still skeptical, Tony nods slowly. “Wanna go get some before I leave?”
“Yeah,” he breathes out, hating himself entirely.
“Alright, get dressed and we’ll head down.”
“‘kay.”
Peter forces himself out of bed, and the movement of bending over to get clothes out of his suitcase nearly has him projectile vomiting on the floor. He swallows repeatedly, picking a shirt and jeans at random. He goes to the bathroom to change and almost considers trying to sneak and vomit quietly, but he doubts he’ll be able to manage it while Tony’s awake.
He sighs, trying to collect himself before leaving the bathroom. Tony wasn’t lying when he said Peter was green. He looks awful, but there’s nothing he can do about it.
Tony is waiting on him outside. He forces a smile onto his face and follows Tony to the elevator. The small drop it does when the ride begins almost sends him doubling over. He just barely holds himself together.
When they get to the dining area, Peter’s stomach is rolling. He fills up his plate with the lightest food he can find, which isn’t really light at all. He has two pancakes and some eggs, and because Tony is watching him, he grabs some fruit too.
The only thing that seems mildly appealing is the bottle of water he snags before sitting down. He puts on his absolute best act and braves the first pancake. It goes down like wet cement.
Tony is still watching him, probably entirely expecting him to fold at any moment. He refuses. He’s going to get a damn Oscar at this point.
By the time he’s finished, he feels so sick that he could faint. Thankfully, though, he seems to have passed the test. Tony takes him back up to the room.
“Alright. I guess I’m going, but this is your last chance. If you’re half as sick as you look, you better tell me now.”
The temptation to tell the truth hits Peter like a brick, but he’s sticking to the plan. He swallows down the urgent, rising feeling and shakes his head. What a liar.
“I’m okay, Tony. You should leave before you’re late.”
“Shit,” Tony replies, looking at his watch. “You’re right. Okay, call me if you need anything, alright? If you feel sick again, I’ll come back early.”
“Okay. Thank you,” he manages, his stomach pressing hard into his throat.
His stomach is in shreds by the time Tony walks out the door. Suddenly, he’s overwhelmed with the nausea he’s been suppressing all morning, and the room spins. He can’t even turn toward the bathroom before the first gag tears through his throat.
Right there in the middle of the room, Peter bends at the waist and throws up all over the floor. His whole body is shaking, and he can hardly hold himself up. He braces himself on the TV stand and vomits again.
The discomfort of throwing up a meal that has had less than five minutes to digest is indescribable. The effort makes his head spin. He doesn’t stop retching until long after he’s thrown up everything he ate.
He’s still doubled over and panting when he suddenly hears the door click, and his heart pounds in his chest. He looks up to see Tony standing in the doorway with solemn concern on his face. He walks in and closes the door behind him.
“Yeah, I had a feeling that might be about to happen,” he says, taking his coat off. Peter is speechless. He walks over and lays a hand on Peter’s back. “Do you think you’re done?”
Peter nods, straightening up. His stomach still really hurts, but he’s not insanely nauseous anymore. He’s just mortified.
Tony urges him to take his shoes off and then leads him to his bed. He scoots the trash can so that it’s in reach. Peter wilts, his face flushed.
“So, when were you planning on telling me that you’re still sick?”
“…Probably when you got back.”
Tony nods slowly. “Figured as much.”
Tears well up in Peter’s eyes again. He’d tried so hard. “I’m really sorry,” he breathes out.
“I just wish you would’ve been honest with me, kid. Could’ve probably saved the hotel staff some trouble.”
“Sorry,” he repeats, the tears spilling over.
Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders, and he melts into the touch. Everything sucks. He wants to go home.
“I think I’m really sick.”
“Yeah, I’d say so. Considering that,” he replies, gesturing toward the splattered remains of Peter’s breakfast on the floor.
“I just meant that it’s something more than what I ate. I threw up in the middle of the night, too, and I think I have a fever,” he admits. If he’s being honest now, he might as well own up to all of it.
Tony sighs. “Oh, kid…I’m sorry. You should’ve woken me up.”
Peter shakes his head. “I really wanted you to be able to go,” he says quietly, more tears spilling over.
“There’s about a million of these things a year, Peter. It’s okay. Please don’t be upset, it’s not your fault you’re sick.”
Peter stays quiet, not trusting his voice. Tony sits with him for a while, and then he urges him to sleep while he calls Pepper and catches up on some things. Exhausted, Peter obeys, drifting off slowly to the clicking sound of Tony’s keyboard.
—————
A/N: Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think :)
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What am I supposed to do if there’s no you | Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: May dies. You find Peter on the school’s roof and comfort him
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Word count: 0.5k
Note: Let’s all cry together
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Peter had lost a lot of people in his life. Each loss hurt differently.
The first time, he was four years old. At this age, Peter didn't really understand the concept of death and kept asking May and Ben: 'where are my mommy and daddy?'.
The second time, Peter was older. He knew what death meant. Uncle Ben had at the wrong place at the wrong time. He had been at the corner store getting milk on a Tuesday night when a burglar came in and held the cashier at gunpoint. The burglar fired the gun to scare the cashier, but the bullet had ricocheted and touched Ben fatally.
It had been a hard and emotional night. Peter remembered holding a crying May in his arms after the police rang their doorbell, announcing them of the sad news. She took his loss the hardest.
A few months ago, Tony Stark had died in his arms after sacrificing himself. Although they weren't blood related, Peter had gone through trauma from losing him. Peter looked up to Tony a lot, both as a superhero and as a person. He was his mentor and, in a way, a father figure.
Now, it was May's turn.
When Peter saw the blood on his hand, he knew she wasn't going to make it, but a part of him refused to believe she was going to die. She had been fine a minute ago. It didn’t make sense to him.
''What are you doing, May? Please, May. Will you just wake up and talk to me, please,'' Peter begged with tears falling from his eyes, trying to wake up his mother figure whose's heart was no longer beating. 
His hands were cupping her face, caressing her cheek gently.
She couldn't die. She was too young...and he needed her. 
He needed her to tell him he was a blind idiot for not seeing that you had a crush on him. He needed her to cook dinner and fail miserably. He needed her to worry about him and throw bananas at him to test his ‘Peter-tingles’. 
What was he supposed to do if there was no May?
A car pulled in at the front of the building and called his name. Happy. Peter locked eyes with him for a brief second before glancing back at May. He didn't know what to do.
The NYPD team outside began crowding Happy and pulled him out of his car.
They were waiting for Peter to come out. 
''Peter, run!'' Happy shouted as handcuffs were being put on him.
Peter pressed a longing kiss to May's forehead. ''I'm sorry,'' he repeated over and over, squeezing his eyes shut as tears continues to flow.
Guns began going off and one of the bullet hit Peter's shoulder, sending him back from the impact. He brought a hand over the wound and stood on wobbly legs, abandoning May's body.
Peter found himself sitting on the rooftop of Midtown High, heaving rain falling on him. It was his safe place. Where he always went to get away from things. That’s where you and him spent lunch break on the first day back to school after Mysterio revealed Spiderman’s identity. 
That's where you found him. He sensed you coming up the roof and turned his head, looking at you with bloodshot and teary eyes. 
You didn't ask what happened. If Peter was here, it meant something bad had happened. Something really bad judging by the look in his eyes and the blood on him.
The wetness of the rain seeped through your sweater as you went up to him and kneeled, cradling his face and sweetly kissing his temple. Whatever had happened, Peter needed comfort. He leaned into you and broke down at your touch, letting it all go. You wrapped your arms around him and his bloodied hands immediately covered yours, as if to keep you from ever letting go.
The only time you heard Peter cry was when Tony died. If Ned and MJ were at Ned’s, the only person who Peter would be this heartbroken over was...May.
You tightened your hold as Peter's sobbed, feeling your own eyes fill up with tears. 
''She's gone. It's all my fault.''
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vaguelyparker · 30 days
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Im rewatching Tau and every time I watch this movie I have starker thoughts 😭. The movie is about a young rich inventor whose at the forefront of artificial intelligence technology and he’s abducting people installing chips into their heads and using that data in order to feed his ais. Well the main character comes in and destroys where he usually houses his abductees + his lab and so she has to be chained up in his living space. But he’s on a deadline and she’s his only viable test subject so the two strike a deal so she gets basic human amenities like showers clothes and food and she’ll complete puzzles for him so he can still mine her for data. In the movie she becomes friends with his ai and the two manage to kill him and escape before he kills her and if that isn’t the perfect set up for a starker fic idk what is.
Imagine Tony shortly after Jarvis dies doing everything in his power to perfect his AI tech, he has Dum-E and U but that’s not enough, J.A.R.V.I.S. isn’t working, and he’s fucking desperate so he starts kidnapping people and using them for data extraction. It’s still not enough. Enter Peter, poor and living in a shitty apartment being kidnapped by Tony Stark, someone who’s not that much older than him, probably his celebrity crush. And obviously he tries to escape but with Tonys AIs and his basically impenetrable/inescapable house he’s stuck. Agrees to help Tony with data collection in exchange for being given some comforts because he’s not an idiot he knows he won’t be alive for long but at least he’ll be comfortable while he’s still alive. He’s given infuriatingly easy brain teasers at first and he’s almost offended, finishing it all in an hour and then lounging around bored as hell for the rest of the time. Tony gets home to him snoozing or something and is about to freak before J informs him Peter was able to complete all task in an hour. Tasks that would have taken any one else in his shoes all day. So the tasks get harder until he’s basically analyzing work for Stark industries. All the while he’s becoming friends with J.A.R.V.I.S. And Tony thinks all the test are working, J’s beginning to feel more human. Things are going well.
In the movie there are a few scenes that would obviously have to come up like him buying the main character expensive clothes and skimpy lingerie and her pretending to seduce him in order to stab him. And obviously J and Peter friendship is imperative like Jarvis asking Peter what it means to be a human and if he’s a human, this cold machine that could end him in an instant but was created to emulate someone real, and Peter explaining about love and home and hopes and dreams. Tony nearly fucking tripping the first time J makes a witty remark at his expense or admonishes him for being rude to Peter. & Peter thinking he’s about to die for corrupting his AI because JARVIS had to initiate Tony’s calming protocol but really Tony is just in his room sobbing.
Idk how they end up together- probably a little stockholm syndrome but also best starker!Peter is Peter who ignores Tony’s more cruel proclivities but that’s just my opinion. Or alternatively JARVIS marries them in secret because Peter told him his parents were married and in love before they died and if JARVIS is a person then Peter and Tony are obviously his parents and Peter says one day he’d like to get married and have a love like that, so this was just the obvious solution. Tony going to kill Peter before JARVIS very matter of factly informs him there is a rather impressive paper trail tying the two of them together including but not limited to their marriage license and Tony is very betrayed but also so fucking proud.
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agentandreastark · 2 years
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Nightmare
Peter Parker X F!reader
Summary: The reader in in a coma and Peter wants nothing more than her to wake up.
Angst
Peter cuddled her. Her head on his chest and their legs tangled together, these were the memories he cherished even though it was as simple as cuddling his girlfriend he loved it. He loved how cute she looked in his arms and not to mention how safe she feels there.
"Love?" She called out to him causing him to hum in return. "What if something happens to me and I die?" She asked looking up at him at that he shot his eyes open. "W-why would you say that?"
"I mean what if I were to caught up in a situation where I die or maybe even if I were to be put in a comatose?" She continued but regreted it as soon as she saw tears in his doe eyes "Hey, hey don't cry" she cooed at him as she pulled away from the cuddle and cupped his cheeks.
"Please don’t ever say that, please don’t. I can't imagine loosing you" He sniffled, he didn't care that he was crying but the scenario she mentioned scared him to death. It was something that often happened in his nightmares.
"You won’t darling I was asking, you know how crazy I am at creating scenarios. I'm sorry I'll never bring it up again." She said rubbing the pads of her thumb wiping the tears as he nodded and pulled her back into his embrace, never wanting to let go.
"Kid, Parker" He heared Tony speak waking him from his dreams. It honestly hurt him to even open his bloodshot eyes and it hurt him even more to look at the girl next to him in a hospital bed in a Coma.
"Look you can go back to your house, we'll be here with her" Pepper sadly smiled
Peter shook his head in response "What if she wakes up? I wanna be with her when she does" his voice came out hoarse.
"I know spider boy but Y/N would want you to take care you yourself" Anthony contradicted.
"I am Mr Stark!" He knew he wasn't but he didn't care he just wanted her to wake up and no matter how many hours or days or months or even years he stays here waiting for you, the guilt of not being able to protect from the car accident. Because if he did she would have been with him. Talking about the most random things that makes her happy. He missed her smile and her voice, her puppy eyes and the hugs she gave. He missed everything about her. He teared up again and let out a sob, he could here Potts and Stark comforting him but he didn't care. All he wanted was this to be a nightmare.
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axel-slays-sometimes · 9 months
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AU where
Spider-man looks at Iron Man, realizing what's about to happen. Thoughts rush to Peter's head. What's he trying to do? If he does it, itll kill him! The world needs Iron Man, this can't be happening-
Peter lunges forward, right as Thanos prepares to kick Tony away, he slips the gauntlet off and puts it on. He makes eye contact with Tony, who's eyes are wide. "Peter, NO." Tony screams helplessly, his eyes welling up. Peter smiles weakly, shaking.
"The world needs you, Mister Stark." He snaps his fingers, the sound quiet but deafening. Everything stops as Thanos and his allies disintegrate. Tony watches in horror as Spider-man stumbles towards him and falls to his knees. Tony shakily follows suit, his hands trembling as he holds Peter's arms.
"Peter... hey, kid. Kid. Please, please, not again." Tony's voice trembles.
Dr. Strange walks forward, placing a gentle hand on Tony's back. "Tony..." Stephen's voice is soft, an attempt at comforting him. "It was the only w-"
Tony slaps Doctor Strange's hand away. His eyes were bloodshot, never leaving Peter's body. "Peter. Peter, not again, you cant die on me twice, kid. Please, what about your friends, they're so excited to see you, please, kid, Peter-"
Tony goes silent as he sees Peter make eye contact, his lips parting slightly. Peter's arm weakly wrapped around Tony. "Mister Stark." Peter whispered, his voice weak. "I- I'm sorry."
Tony chokes a sob as he pulls Peter's lifeless body close, hugging him as he goes limp in his arms. "Peter. Peter, you're just a kid, you idiot. Your friends- you can't-" Tony rambles, hugging the young boy tightly. He feels hopeless, sitting there in the dust. "Peter, we won." Iron Man whispers, repeating it over and over again into Peter's shoulder. "We won. We won. We won, kid, we won."
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triscribeaucollection · 11 months
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Another Chance
Tony sits alone for a long time.
Maybe it’s only minutes. Maybe it’s hours. Maybe days, for all he knows, the sky thoroughly obscured with smoke and ash that refuses to blow away. It took a long time for the ashes of half the Earth’s population to settle after the first Snap, after all.
Now- now everything is gone. Because Tony fumbled.
Because he failed.
He gambled, and lost. He invented time travel, to try and get one kid back, only to lose both of them, and Pepper, and Rhodey, and Steve and Nat and everyone else- He failed.
But before failing, he managed to piss off Thanos enough to be left alive.
A witness, the bastard said, smiling, as he snapped his fingers and erased everything Tony ever fought for, everything he ever loved- To the inevitable.
Then Thanos opened up a portal and just, walked away. Off to go start unmaking and recreating the entire universe, apparently, after casually obliterating every trace of life on planet Earth.
Every trace, except for Tony.
So. That’s that.
Done. Finished. End of the line, and thinking of that particular phrase is what manages to make him topple over and sob. End of the line, except momentum kept shoving Tony forward, even as everyone else turned to ash and fell away behind him.
Eventually the tears dry up. Nothing else changes, though. No reason for Tony to bother getting up and going anywhere. He just stays huddled on the ground, both hands curled around traces of ash, and he waits. Can’t take too long to die of a broken heart, right? Probably not as long as it would take for the dehydration to get him. Definitely sooner than Thanos swinging by again to put him out of his misery.
Tony waits. Alone.
...a sound reaches his ears, at one point. Maybe some rubble, finally collapsing. Or the hallucinations starting up, Tony figures those are bound to happen at some point. Maybe he’ll get to apologize to Pepper. To Peter. Hell, he’d even apologize to Barnes at this point-
Footsteps. Soft swishing. A voice. “Tony?”
-but Wanda’s a good place to start.
He blinks his eyes open, uncertain of when they closed. Wanda couches in front of him, concern obvious on her face. But- she’s not the same. “New outfit?” Tony can’t help but ask in a croaky voice.
One side of her mouth tips up in a wry smile. “New enough. What happened?”
A half-hearted laugh escapes his throat. “What else? One step forward. Two steps back. Rinse, repeat, etcetera. Failure ad infinitum, until you’re out of chances.” Wanda keeps on staring at him, until Tony can’t take the weight of it, and shut his eyes again.
“...do you want another chance, Tony?”
The next laugh comes out as a harsh bark, bitter and grating. “Didn’t you just hear me, Wanda? I lost. Thanos got all six stones, he’s off to play king of the sandcastle, there’s nothing else I can do-!”
“I didn’t mean here, Tony. Do you want another chance somewhere else?”
“The hell do you mean, somewhere else? The past? Sure, I’d love for Hallucination-Wanda to give me a nice little mental fantasy to hide in until I’m finally dead-”
“I’m not a hallucination, Tony. I’m not from this universe.”
-okay, that’s enough to shut him up. Reluctantly, he cracks his eyes open, just enough to squint up at her face. “What?”
The wry smile comes back. “I am not from this universe. Where I am from, we beat Thanos. Everyone lived- except our Tony. He sacrificed his life to get the Infinity Stones and use them, killing Thanos and his entire army.”
“...fourteen million to one,” Tony mutters, stunned. Wanda dips her head in a shallow nod. “Hell. I’m glad someone managed it.” After a moment he shoves himself upright, until he and Wanda are properly sitting across from one another. “And they’re all- my family? The team?”
“We have all missed you,” she says plainly. “Two years have passed since your funeral.”
Hell.
Tony makes himself swallow, despite his parched throat. “And you’re just- what? Offering to let me move in? Take over another man’s life?”
“Your life,” Wanda insists, before pausing. “Although I do... understand. That fear.” Her gaze flickers. Tony follows it, off to the left, towards a mound of concrete that used to be the Compound’s main building.
Three figures are sitting on top. One lifts an arm to wave.
Wanda waves back, smiling faintly despite her pained expression. “After we won... Vision was still gone. I missed him- so much- that I let my grief take control. My power lashed out. It... did not go well, for those around me.”
Tony stares.
“No one was physically hurt,” Wanda is quick to say, “But that does not excuse the harm I inflicted. The harm I invited, when another witch came, seeking to steal my power for herself.”
“Hope you kicked her ass.”
That dry statement wins a snort, at least. “Eventually. That was- not the hard part. After... afterward, to fix what I’d done... I had to give them up. My family. My sons.” Wanda squeezes her eyes shut, taking a deep breath. “The people I hurt were free to return to their lives, but I could not make myself move on. I began dreaming, of other worlds where my boys still lived. Glimpses into other universes. And it hurt, to see them- to see other versions of myself, happy.”
“I’m sorry, Wanda.” On an impulse, Tony reaches across to grasp her hand, holding tight. She clings back just as firmly.
“I couldn’t leave well enough alone, of course,” she goes on. “And then I- I found a world. Where I didn’t beat Agatha. She took my power- my magic- my boys. As soon as I realized- I couldn’t ignore it.” Another glance at the waiting figures. “I found a girl who can open doors between universes. Doctor Strange and I helped her gain better control over her ability, and then- she helped me get there. To that awful reality.”
“And Agatha got her ass kicked a second time?”
“Yes.” Wanda’s eyes flash as she snaps out that second word - not just metaphorically, either. Tony can actually see a flare of glowing power, however brief. “And now- now I have my boys again. And they are coming home with me, so we can- try again. Another chance.”
Another chance.
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droughtofapathy · 4 months
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The Gilded Age's Broadway Divas: Mrs. Bruce (Celia Keenan-Bolger)
Despite having a largely underdeveloped Downstairs role in The Gilded Age, Mrs. Bruce runs the Russell household like a tight ship. From averting near-disastrous soup escapades, to catching escaped dogs in the dusty streets, she approaches her job with no-nonsense competence, all while totally unable to reach the high shelves.
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For the first time, Celia Keenan-Bolger (45) has broken free of her child typecast cage to play a fully grown adult with adult responsibilities and it must be such a thrill for her. Those unfamiliar with Celia may not be aware of her illustrious career playing children on Broadway as a grown adult.
In 2005, Celia (26) made her Broadway debut in The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee as twelve-year-old Olive Ostrovsky, a precocious spelling bee contestant who should have won, dammit, and I'll die on that hill. In 2011, she (31) played thirteen-year-old Molly Aster in Peter and the Starcatcher, nominated for a Tony the same year as her brother Andrew Keenan-Bolger (Newsies). In 2018, she (40) starred in To Kill a Mockingbird as six-to-nine-year-old Scout Finch, for which she won a Tony. This coming spring, Celia (46) will once again be a child on Broadway as she takes on the role of Jessica Lange's teenaged daughter in Mother Play. (List non-exhaustive)
#1: "Green Finch and Linnet Birds," Sweeney Todd (2002)
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In one of her earliest professional roles, Celia (24) takes on sixteen-year-old Johanna Barker, the daughter of the titular Sweeney Todd, who has become Judge Turpin's ward. This is not great for her. But the role was. Too often, this particular song gets the short end of the stick. It's long, slow, and very high, yet Celia approaches it with a controlled vibrato that makes us all sigh in relief.
The Kennedy Center production featured a fantastic cast, including Mary Beth Peil as The Beggar Woman, Broadway's Leading Man Brian Stokes Mitchell as Sweeney Todd, and our very own Agnes van Rhijn, Christine Baranski as Mrs. Lovett.
#2: The Light in the Piazza - Pre-Broadway (2003)
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Before Kelli O'Hara took on the role of Clara Johnson, a young woman whose mental development stunted at age twelve after being kicked by a horse, the role belonged to Celia Keenan-Bolger (25). Ultimately, when the production moved on from Chicago, the creative team decided they wanted a Clara who was a little older. Kelli, who had been playing Francesca, the sister-in-law, was unwilling to "steal" a role from someone she considered a dear friend, but either way, Celia was out, so Kelli was in with minimal damage to their friendship, which persists today.
However. Some years later, when South Pacific was auditioning their Nellie Forbush actresses, the final three came down to Kelli O'Hara (who got it), Celia Keenan-Bolger, and Victoria Clark, who won a Tony for playing Margaret, Clara's mother, in Piazza. Talk about awkward.
#3: "The I Love You Song," The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee (2005)
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Losing out on Clara wasn't all thunderclouds for Celia (26). Shortly after, she landed a role in the off-Broadway production of Spelling Bee, and when it transferred to Broadway, she received her first Tony nomination.
In this scene, Olive sings the most heartbreaking and beautiful number in the entire show. It is just devastating. Up until this point, the show is a barrel of laughs, and then suddenly you're sobbing your eyes out over a lonely little girl in a bad home situation.
Will Celia Keenan-Bolger ever be allowed to play an adult again? How long until she is no longer able to play children? How did she get the role of Mrs. Bruce if she's only allowed to play kids? All questions we have no answers to.
LINK TO MASTERPOST
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xx-sleepybunny-xx · 1 year
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Peter Parker/Spider-Man x reader Avengers Infinity War
Thanos disappeared through a portal after Dr. Strange gave him the time stone and we all look around at each other you turned and glared at Peter Quill
“Great job star-lord,” you said sarcastically “you just ruined everything!”
“Hey! I did not ruin everything!”
“Yes you did! Why couldn’t you just wait another five fucking seconds we almost had the damn glove off!”
“He killed my girlfriend!” Quill yelled
“Oh yeah? Well a lot more people are gonna die now because of you!” You screamed at him absolutely furious.  Peter Parker came up to you and grabbed you by the shoulders pulling you away from Quill before you could luge at him.
 “Hey Y/n you need to calm down ok? If you don’t you might lose control of your powers.”
You sighed “Alright thanks Peter.”
Peter smiled at you “I love you Y/n.”
You wrapped your arms around Peter and buried your face in his neck “I love you too Peter.” You murmured
*magical time skip to after Thanos snapped his fingers*
“Mr. Stark,” Peter said “I don’t feel so good.”
You whipped around to face Peter your eyes widening in fear. Peter stumbled and Tony caught him “I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go.”
“Hey it’s alright I got you.” Tony said laying Peter down.
You ran over to Peter and Tony your eyes slowly filled with tears as you knelt down next to Peter. “No Peter please no.”
Peter turned to look at you “I’m sorry.” He murmured before he turned to dust. 
You jumped up and backed away shaking your head in disbelief “No.” you murmured “no no no no no!” You yelled
“Y/n stay calm.” You faced Tony furiously “DON’T TELL ME TO STAY CALM!” You screamed “Peter you is gone and you’re telling me to STAY CALM!?”
“Y/n.” You ignored Tony and simply screamed letting out all the emotions that you held inside you as a wave of your F/C magical power rushed out of your body across the whole planet. 
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“Y/n…” Tony began as you sank down to your knees your body shaking with sobs.
“Y/n it’ll be okay...” Tony said hesitantly, once you had stopped crying.
You slowly rose to your feet still staring at the ground then you raised your head and stared straight at Tony an empty look in your eyes. “Y/n wha-“
you cut him off “I’m going to kill Thanos, and I’m going to do it in the most brutal way possible. Let him see how it feels to be ripped apart.”
With that you turned and walked away using your powers to disappear.
*hey guys here's another fic I made way back in 2020 (it’s absolute shit ik but I wrote it awhile ago and I’m to lazy to edit it) I hope you liked it (even tho it’s terrible) Bye for now author out*
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thehubb · 6 months
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Closed Starter | @ironslegacy
🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️🕸️🕷️
Nothing had been the same since that day… the day when Tony Stark breathed his last breath on the battlefield. The day he was buried and they had a celebration of his life at the cabin he called home. The day when Peter Parker had lost the only person in his entire life that he truly saw as a father.
You’d think that was the worst of it, but no. It wasn’t. In fact, Stark hadn’t been the only one to die on the battlefield that day, nor whose life was celebrated. Pepper Potts, Stark’s loving wife, was taken along with him, leaving behind Morgan H. Stark, their daughter.
Peter hadn’t been able to face her since the funeral. Heck he hadn’t even been able to bring himself to face Happy. Whether believable or not, the once boisterous and energetic teenage boy was now hit by depression day in and day out. He tried to throw himself back into being Spiderman, the only thing he truly knew how to do, but it always made him think of his past mentor. Many nights were spent on rooftops, away from where anyone could see or hear him as he silently sobbed, mourning.
That’s where he was when a voicemail came through, the ping shaking the young boy out of his thoughts. He quickly wiped his tears away with the back of his gloved hand, trying to clear up his vision to read the name of the sender. “Happy…” he half-grumbled to himself. Despite ghosting him for the last several weeks, something made Peter hit the play button, putting the phone up to his ear.
Peter, it’s Happy. I’ve been trying get ahold of you, but uh… Anyway, would you please come back to the cabin? I know… that you don’t want to because of the memories, but… it’s Morgan. She hasn’t spoken since everything happened, and it’s honestly starting to scare me. I don’t know what else to do. I was hoping that maybe you… Anyway, just call me back. Okay kid? Don’t do this alone… I’m here if you need me.
The kid swallowed hard as the message finished up. Against his better judgment, he swung himself off the building, back to his apartment. After changing, he bought himself a plane ticket and made all of the accommodations he would need to get there. He didn’t know why he was doing it. It was true… he didn’t want to go, but for some reason… it felt right.
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alyafae · 5 months
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Disbelief is the first thing Tony feels when he hears the news. Disbelief, followed by denial. It couldn't be. Not her. Not Pepper. He had just returned from space, Carol Danvers saving him and Nebula as they were drifting aimlessy and running low on oxygen.
His hands are shaking and his eyes start burning. Why? Why had it to be her?! Not only had he lost Peter, watched as the boy become dust under his hands. No, Pepper was among those who got dusted too.
So why was it that he was still here? Hadn't he suffered enough?! He hadn't become dust like the others, had survived in space. But right now he wishes he hadn't. That Danvers hadn't found them and he would have drifted off to sleep, thinking of Pepper and how much he loved her.
How was he supposed to continue? With everyone he ever cared for gone? Was he doomed to be alone? Die alone?
Tears are falling freely now and he bites back a sob. He was a broken man. His body may still function, but his will to live? Gone. Pepper had been his better half, the reason why he even wanted to stay alive. She had completed him in ways no one else ever could. With her death, the kindest part of Tony Stark had died too, leaving nothing but a broken and stone hearted man behind.
[For the death meme]
My muse is dead, tell me how yours responds to the news
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[ BLOCKED ] wow i can't believe you would hurt me (and pepper) like this. my effing heart. 10/10 did not ask for this, 10/10 would not recommend. THIS POOR BEAN (new au unlocked?)
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cw: this is a long and self-indulgent sickfic, so if that’s not your jam, scroll on and have a good day! if it is, boy do i have a treat for you—enjoy
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No More Flights—Ever.
Peter’s putting on his best act to seem unfazed by being on the jet, but Tony knows him well enough to know he’s hardly hanging on. It’s barely perceptible, but he’s shaking all over, and he’s white as snow. He’s sweating through his t-shirt, and if the kid so much as blinks once, tears are going to start streaming down his face.
They’d had a conversation a few months earlier about how his parents had passed, and Peter assured him that he’d be fine on a plane, that he was so young when it happened that it wouldn’t affect him. Tony wishes he’d called his bluff. That would be infinitely better than watching the kid suffer on what’s sure to be over a seven hour flight, not to mention the matching trip back home.
Tony keeps a close eye on him, especially when they start to hit mild turbulence. Peter had fallen asleep for all of four minutes before they hit the first patch, and he woke so abruptly that he had to catch his breath. Tony was by his side in an instant.
“Everything’s fine, kiddo, it’s just some turbulence. We’re gonna be okay.” Peter nods, swallowing. “You want some water?” Another nod.
Tony gets up and retrieves a bottle of water, bringing it back to the poor kid. He sits with him as he drinks a little over half of it and then screws the cap back on. Tony doesn’t miss the way his hands shake.
After that, Peter has a much harder time of going back to sleep, but he eventually manages it. Tony relaxes just a little. Hopefully the kid will sleep through the majority of the flight. Tony wishes he’d brought some Xanax or something. Oh well, next time.
A little over two hours goes by peacefully, but then Tony is woken from his own slumber from a particularly violent patch of turbulence. Peter is already awake beside him, grey in the face and breathing erratically. He looks like he’s going to pass out.
“Hey—hey, kid, it’s okay. It’s totally okay. We’re fine. Breathe,” he urges, a hand on Peter’s chest.
The tears in Peter’s eyes spill over fast, streaming down his face in twos and threes. He’s breathing so hard that he’s wheezing, and his eyes are wild and grieving. His face somehow actually goes green.
The plane jolts again, even worse. Peter breathes out a sob, clutching his seat with all he has. Tony tries to redirect his attention.
“Kid, I need you to look at me, can you do that?”
Peter briefly glances at him, but then his eyes shut tight, and he weeps. The minor shaking from before has become full-body tremors, and he can barely wipe his own tears. The cries coming from him don’t sound like the kid he knows at all. They’re pained and terrified, everything Tony has never wanted to hear from him. The worst part is that he can’t do anything about it.
“Peter, everything is okay, remember the jell-o thing? We’re not going anywhere, kid. I’m right here, you’re okay.”
“Tony, I—I don’t want to die,” he sobs, having a full-on panic attack now. “Please, I don’t want to die, I’m not even seventeen, I’m not ready.”
Tony’s heart breaks. “You’re not gonna die, Peter, no one’s going to die, okay? I promise. Please take a deep breath. Drink some more water.”
Peter does neither of those things, completely disoriented from sheer panic. He’s pouring sweat and tears, heaving sobs and coughing from crying so hard. Tony’s worried he’s not getting enough oxygen.
He’s just about to pull Peter’s oxygen mask down when the kid presses both of his hands to his mouth and retches. Tony can’t even think about grabbing an airsickness bag before Peter gags again, spewing vomit from between his fingers. He moves his hands, choking just before he throws up a massive gush of puke all over himself and the floor.
“Oh, kid…it’s okay. You’re gonna be okay,” he attempts to soothe, but the kid has gone off the deep end and is barely treading water.
He pitches forward again and blows chunks all over the seat in front of him. If he was pale before, it was nothing compared to now. He throws up again.
For some reason, it clicks in that moment to grab a barf bag, and once it’s open, he holds it over Peter’s mouth. He can feel the weight of Peter’s stomach contents pouring into the bag. It turns his own stomach, but he has to keep it together for the kid.
He curses Peter’s enhanced metabolism for causing him to stuff his face before they boarded, because the amount that the kid is puking can’t be scientifically possible. By the time it’s all over, Peter has filled two and a half bags, plus whatever he lost to the floor and his lap. Tony can’t believe what a colossal trauma he’s put this innocent kid through.
He’s panting and shaking, seemingly paralyzed otherwise. He’s probably in shock. The plane has stopped jolting, but Peter isn’t recovering visibly by any means.
“You’re okay. You’re doing good, Peter. It’s over now.”
It takes a few more minutes for the kid to even blink, sending more tears rolling down his cheeks. When Tony offers him napkins, he doesn’t respond. Like the dad he’s slowly becoming, he wipes the puke from Peter’s face and hands.
He goes over to Peter’s luggage and digs out some clean clothes, bringing them back to him. He looks awful. Tony worries he might be sick again.
Tony gives him all the time and patience he can. It’s over thirty minutes before Peter’s eyes seem to tune back into his surroundings. He blinks a few times and looks down, groaning lowly when he sees the mess.
“Fuck…,” he finally breathes out. Tony has never heard him curse before. “I’m…I am so sorry.”
“No need to apologize, kid. It’s okay that you threw up, I understand.”
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats again, more tears spilling over.
Tony doesn’t care if he gets puke on his shirt, he leans over and wraps the kid up in his arms tightly. Peter holds him back tighter. He sobs and sobs, his body still shaking.
Tony rubs his back and repeatedly tells him everything’s alright, but he’s not sure how much of a help he’s being. Eventually, he pulls back, heart aching as he sees Peter’s face again. He looks awful, like he’s actually sick.
“I got you some clean clothes, okay? Right there,” he says, pointing at the pile on the aisle across from them.
“Thank you,” Peter breathes out, standing weakly.
Tony looks away while the kid gets changed, and then they switch seats to another row. While Peter tries to fall asleep again, Tony gets up to clean as much of the mess as he can. It’s a lot.
When he returns, Peter is still awake, pale as ever with dark, sunken circles under his eyes. Tony rubs his back some more, wishing there were something substantial he could do for him. He wishes they had never left New York.
They hit the smallest patch of turbulence yet, and Peter blanches. He grips his seat again and looks at Tony desperately.
“Please let me off this thing,” he begs, voice broken.
“Trust me, kid, I really wish I could.”
Another jolt.
“I’m gonna be sick,” he chokes out, and Tony has never moved faster in his life.
He opens a new bag and gives it to Peter. He takes it with shaking hands, and Tony loses all hope of a false alarm when he sees watery spit dripping from Peter’s mouth. Not even five seconds goes by after that before he hurls into the bag. Tony rubs his back again.
He coughs, and burps, and gags, and every time he does, a little more comes up. It sounds awful. The poor kid must feel like shit.
When it finally seems to be over, Peter gently pushes the bag away, swallowing thickly. Tony rubs his back a little more. Peter apologizes softly. Tony tells him it’s okay.
He winds down again after about thirty minutes, and Tony disposes of the bags. He can’t seem to relax anymore, sure that Peter could wake up sick again at any moment. He alternates between looking at his phone and the kid, thankful for each moment of peace that they manage to have.
There’s about two and a half hours left on the flight, so Tony prays that Peter stays asleep. His heart drops when they hit another wave of turbulence, but Peter is so deep in sleep that he doesn’t wake. Thank God. Being sick must have made him exhausted.
Another half hour goes by without incident, and Tony feels himself starting to drift off. After jolting awake a few times, he’s out. He dreams of nothing in particular.
He wakes to a hand on his shoulder, and when he blinks his eyes open to see Peter standing beside him, he’s suddenly much more awake. He sits up straighter and clears his throat. When he gets a good look at the kid, he’s worried again. Peter looks sick to say the least.
“Hey, Pete, I’m sorry I fell asleep. Are you okay?”
“Um…we—there was some turbulence,” he manages, his voice nearly gone.
“I’m really sorry, kiddo. I didn’t know it would be so stormy today. Try not to worry about the turbulence, though, we’ve made it through the worst of it, and we’re okay.”
Peter nods, but he looks far from okay. He sits down beside Tony.
“How much longer?”
“Uh…,” he breathes out, looking at his phone. “Just about an hour. Not so bad.”
“Okay,” he says, voice small.
“Wanna try watching some TV or going back to sleep?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Tony says, pulling up the menu. There’s a few cooking shows, but he doubts Peter’s stomach is ready for that. There’s also wipeout and Judge Judy, and that’s what Peter ends up choosing. It makes Tony laugh a little, but then they’re both invested.
Tony still keeps a close eye on him, and he can tell Peter isn’t comfortable. He must not be feeling all that well. Hopefully they’ll avoid another round of vomiting.
And that they do. The landing is a little rough, and Peter goes pale again. Tony’s ready to grab the puke bags in an instant, but he doesn’t seem to be in vomit territory, at least not yet.
He’s never been happier to get off a jet in his life. He’s sure Peter is feeling the same way. He’s still shaking as they gather their luggage and head for the taxi.
He’s silent the whole ride to the hotel, and silent as they check into their room. He grabs a water out of the mini fridge and sips at it before crawling into bed. He looks so small.
They’d planned on exploring the city when they landed, but Tony expects that Peter’s not feeling up to it. Maybe tomorrow. As of now, he’s still looking decidedly green and withdrawn.
“Wanna keep watching?” Tony asks, turning on the TV. Peter gives a small nod and takes another sip.
They only manage to make it about five minutes into the episode before Peter speaks up.
“Tony…”
“Yeah?”
He says something, but it’s so quiet that Tony misses it. It’s a little dark, but he swears he sees tears on the kid’s face. His heart shatters.
“Sorry, kid, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?”
“Can you pause it?”
“Yeah, you okay?”
“Um…I don’t know. I think I might throw up.”
“Oh, kiddo…again?”
In lieu of an answer, he shucks off his blankets and gets up from the bed with a hand on his stomach. Tony gets up next, following him into the bathroom. Peter lowers to the floor in front of the toilet, and sure enough, watery spit is dripping from his mouth. Tony sits on the edge of the bathtub and lays a hand on his back.
Peter is visibly nauseous for the next five minutes, burping and swallowing repeatedly. He moans, draping himself over the toilet. Normally, Tony would find that gross, but he understands that the kid must be completely spent.
Just as Tony begins to wonder if it’s a false alarm, Peter’s back lurches under his hand, and he hears vomit hit the water. Tony’s heart clenches. He hates seeing him like this.
Peter throws up again, all water and bile. The shaking comes back. He’s not bringing up much apart from the first wave, but he’s retching pretty violently.
It takes a while for the gagging to turn to hiccuping and then slow to a stop. He wipes his mouth and flushes the toilet. When he turns to Tony, his eyes are flooded with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Peter. Do you think you’re actually sick?”
He shakes his head and crumbles, his head falling to his knees. His breath hitches with quiet sobs. Tony lays a hand on his shoulder.
“I…I’m sorry, I just—I keep thinking about my parents, and how I felt on the jet. I can’t imagine how scared they must have been when they realized what was going to happen,” he breathes out. “They were probably terrified, it makes me sick to think about it,” he all but weeps.
“I’ve heard people talk about their near death experiences and say they felt complete peace before they went. I’ll bet they were scared at first, but I think once they knew, it was suddenly okay.”
“I hope so,” he murmurs softly, wiping at his face. Then, “I miss my mom,” he sobs, breaking right in front of Tony’s eyes.
Tony gets down on the floor beside him and holds him silently while he cries. Several minutes go by, and then Peter suddenly tenses, and an awful noise comes from his mouth. He pulls away.
Tony watches helplessly as Peter throws up a mouthful of stringy vomit into his hand, lurching toward the toilet to let it spill out. He coughs a few times, emptying his stomach for the fourth time today. Tony’s so out of his depth here.
Still, he sits with Peter until he apologizes and says he’s done. Tony helps him to the sink to wash up and then get back to bed. Peter’s tremors are slowly dying down.
Tony puts a trash can next to his bed just in case, and encourages him to take a few more sips of water. The last thing they need is for him to get dehydrated. He already feels bad enough.
Peter obeys, and then they go back to watching Judge Judy. Peter is asleep in under two minutes. Tony can’t get to sleep for another four hours. What the kid said was so heartbreaking, and it won’t stop echoing in his mind.
By the morning, Tony considers it a miracle that he wasn’t woken by a sick Peter. In fact, he’s still sleeping peacefully. Tony thinks about waking him before breakfast ends downstairs, but he’s not sure how his stomach would feel, and he figures he needs all the sleep he can get for today.
That turns out to be about another hour. While he’s asleep, Tony watches some more Judge Judy, silently cursing the kid for actually getting him interested in this show. He can’t help but laugh at himself.
When Peter stirs in the bed beside his, he pauses the TV. He watches with a bit of anxiety as he rolls over with a low groan. Hopefully he doesn’t feel as bad as he sounds.
He blinks his eyes open and they settle on Tony. “Hey, kid. How are you feeling?” he asks, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“M’okay…but my mouth tastes like puke.”
“I’m sorry. You want some water?”
“Please.”
Tony gets up and retrieves a water from the mini fridge, bringing it to him. “Sit up a little.”
Peter obeys, taking the water and drinking just a few sips. Tony hopes that isn’t a sign that he’s feeling bad. Hopefully he would tell Tony the truth at this point.
“You excited for today?”
Peter nods, a smile spreading across his face. “Only waited a year for this.”
“I think it’ll be worth it.”
“Well, I don’t know about the flight over, but hopefully.”
“Again, I’m really sorry, kid. If we could swim back to America, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
“Might consider it.”
He laughs, but Tony can sense the nervousness in it. He lays a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. Peter drinks a little more water.
“Alright, so we should probably head out in a few minutes. Think you can be ready?”
Peter nods, sitting all the way up and standing from bed. Tony heads to the bathroom to get ready while Peter gets ready in their room. He goes over what they’ll do, and tries to think about ways to make it even better for Peter after their rough day and night yesterday.
When they’re both ready, they head down to the lobby and out to the train station. He hopes sincerely that part of Peter’s problem isn’t motion sickness in general. That wouldn’t be a great start to the day.
Thankfully, they make it through the ride without incident, and by the time they arrive to the convention, Peter is alight with excitement. He’s looking around with bright eyes and a wide smile, yesterday all but forgotten about. Tony’s heart grows warm.
They head straight for Peter’s favorite scientist, Alain Aspect, a major leader of research in quantum entanglement. Peter’s whole face lights up, and Tony could swear he’s trembling. He goes straight up to Alain and shakes his hand, telling him how amazing it is to meet him, how he has so many questions.
Alain feeds off his energy and gives him a big smile. He entertains Peter’s every question, loving and complimenting Peter’s brilliant mind. He can’t believe he’s only sixteen.
They spend a good amount of time there, and Peter’s enthusiasm never wanes. Eventually, someone else walks up, and Peter gives them a chance. After that, they visit several other booths and meet more physicists, biologists, and astrophysicists. Tony loves watching the kid soak everything in. They don’t even stop for lunch.
He surprises Peter with an exclusive panel with the board of directors for NASA. The kid almost bursts, thanking Tony repeatedly and very nearly crying. He’s on the edge of his seat the entire time, even being selected to ask a question toward the end.
He’s still buzzing by the time it’s all over. He’s blabbering about all of it as they leave, going to explore the city as they planned to do yesterday. They stop at a nice restaurant for dinner, and the food is amazing. Peter is back to his old self, downing more food than Tony can ever imagine eating himself.
He doesn’t even stop talking for the whole ride back to the hotel and even as they enter their room. Tony is thoroughly enjoying all of it despite his usual tiring of Peter’s rants. It can be a little much sometimes. Tonight, he’s more relieved than anything.
They go to sleep easily with Judge Judy on softly in the background again. Sleep comes with no disturbances. The night is a good one.
When Tony wakes to his alarm, he groans, stretching. He cracks his eyes open and looks over at Peter. He’s already awake, sitting up in bed with his knees to his chest. He looks pretty terrible. Tony’s heart sinks. He was afraid of this.
Their flight back home is this morning, and neither of them are looking forward to it in the slightest. They’re silent for most of the morning. Peter gets ready sluggishly and refuses to eat breakfast.
“Kiddo, if airsickness has anything to do with it, that’s going to make it worse.”
Peter wilts. “I’m really not hungry.”
“Doesn’t have to be much, just something small. Okay?”
“…Okay.”
They had down to the dining area of the hotel and grab some food. Peter only puts a plain croissant and some fruit on his plate. Tony figures that’ll be okay.
They eat in silence. Tony wonders if there’s anything he can do for him, and then he remembers a medication Bruce used to have to take for long rides on the quinjet. It started with a D.
He pulls out his phone and starts to research. He finds it quickly—Dramamine. It’s sold at regular corner stores, so he plans to stop there before they leave.
When they head out to the train station, he drops by somewhere called Puls Apotek and buys some Dramamine. He hands one to Peter with a bottle of water and tells him it’ll help with his nausea, and then they board the train to the airport. Tony doesn’t miss the way Peter is restless, nervously fidgeting the whole way there.
When they arrive, Tony’s private jet is right there waiting for them. It’s had a good cleaning and been restocked with everything they need. Peter looks up at the jet with mild horror and lots of dread, as does Tony. He braces himself for the worst.
Hopefully the medicine has enough time to kick in before takeoff. Peter is already pale, sitting down beside Tony with his eyes shut. He swallows a few times in a row.
“Pete? You wanna try watching some Judge Judy to take your mind off of things?”
“…Okay,” he breathes out, voice weak.
About an episode in, Peter goes sharply downhill. Tony could swear he hears him whimper. When he looks at Peter, his face is grey with an awful yellow tinge, and sweat is beading across his forehead. He reaches in front of him to grab an airsickness bag.
“Oh, kid…it’ll be okay.”
Peter shakes his head just a little. He swallows with effort. Tony was really hoping they’d make it through this without Peter getting sick.
“I think…the medicine is making me really dizzy,” he breathes out.
“What? That makes no sense. Anti-nausea meds shouldn’t make you dizzy.”
“I don’t know…I didn’t feel like this before.”
Tony digs through his carry-on and finds the bottle. Sure enough, the warning label mentions drowsiness and dizziness as possible size effects. Tony inwardly smacks himself.
“I’m so sorry, Peter. I had no idea.”
“It’s okay. Like you said, that shouldn’t even happen. It’s not your fault,” he manages, but Tony can hear the nausea in his voice.
As if the universe is playing some sort of cruel joke on them, the cabin starts to jerk with turbulence. Peter lets out a string of curses under his breath. He goes completely pale, draping an arm across his stomach. The other is gripping the sick bag tight to his chest.
“Remember what I said, okay? We were fine before, and we’re going to be fine now. I promise, kiddo.”
The words seem to have no effect on Peter. For all intents and purposes, Peter is lost to the world. His breathing picks up. The jet jolts again.
Peter lets out a quiet sob. Tony starts to rub his back, repeating that it’s okay. It’s all he can do. He hates that.
The turbulence doesn’t stop, and a minute later, Peter pitches forward with a half-gag, swallowing down the impending vomit before it reaches his mouth. This happens a couple more times, like he’s fighting for his life.
“Don’t hurt yourself, kid. If you need to throw up, don’t try to fight it. It’s okay.”
“I don’t want to,” he chokes out.
It happens again. And then again. Peter’s stomach makes an awful noise each time its contents angrily return.
“Peter.”
“I’m—trying really hard not to puke, okay? Just give me…give me a second.”
His eyes shut, and he starts taking measured breaths. Tony’s never seen him look so sick before, not even on the flight over. He hates it.
Despite his best efforts, only about three more minutes go by before he’s unable to swallow back his stomach. He lurches forward, vomiting violently into the bag. Then, again.
“There you go, kid. You’re gonna be alright.”
Tony rubs his back as he loses his hard-fought breakfast into the plastic. The effort of holding everything down has made the release much more intense, and he’s filled the first bag in no time. Tony already has another one ready.
He’s completely doubled over in his seat, panting into the bag between heaves. He’s shaking like a leaf and sweating through his t-shirt. The retching doesn’t stop for several minutes.
When it seems to slow to a stop, he’s drained completely. He stays folded over himself. The only sign that he’s conscious is that his eyes are open, blinking tears of exertion and anxiety down his cheeks.
Just as Tony thinks it’s over, he hears what he can only imagine is the rest of Peter’s stomach contents retreating from their rightful place. Sure enough, not even a minute goes by before Peter starts throwing up last night’s dinner. Poor kid.
He vomits over and over, to the point where Tony fears he’s going to pass out from the effort of heaving. He loses everything he ate. It’s several minutes before he pushes away the third bag.
He looks traumatized to say the least. Tony is heartbroken. This was supposed to be a great weekend, and now the kid’s been properly wrung out four times.
“I’m really sorry, Peter. If I had half a brain, I would have reconsidered this whole thing.”
Peter shakes his head. “No…no, I had a really great time yesterday. You couldn’t have prevented this any more than I could’ve.” His voice is wrecked. “It’s okay.”
“I just hate seeing you sick. I hate it so much.”
“Being sick isn’t that great for me, either, but I’ll live. I’m sorry you had to see all of it.”
“You don’t owe me an apology, Pete. I just wish you felt better.”
“Me too.”
After that, Tony gets rid of the bags, and they return to watching TV. It’s a welcome distraction. Tony had forgotten about the drowsiness side effect, but not even five minutes later, Peter is knocked out beside him.
Tony drapes his jacket over Peter’s lap and watches him for a minute. He’s got some of the color back in his face, and Tony feels a little better at seeing that.
He watches Judge Judy until he drifts off himself, praying that the flight will be over by the time they wake.
—————
A/N: Thank you for reading! I have so many stories built up over the years, so if anyone is interested, let me know! Take care :)
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ed-alaistar · 7 months
Text
Peter: hey are you... dead
Tony, who's literally on -30 hours of sleep and his 15th cup of coffee: yea, i'm dad.. need anything?
Peter, full on sobbing: OH MY GOD MR STARK YOU CANT DIE I NEED YOU PLS
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buckybeardreams · 1 year
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omg that starker identity porn sexting you posted was sooo good 😳
In reference to this post
Aw thx! I actually have been working on this verse! It's turning out different from what I originally thought it would, so it's not really identity porn anymore?? Like Tony knows Peter is Spiderman, it's just that Peter doesn't know Tony knows lol
But yeah, I'll share what I've got so far 😉
This is like directly following Tony asking if that means he's gonna get a pic
--
Peter bit his lip, considering it.
He'd never done anything like that before. Hell, he was only fourteen, so he'd never really had the opportunity to before, never dated or sexted or nothing. But he'd definitely gotten off to pictures of Tony before.
Of course, he wanted to be good for Tony, so he pulled his cock out of his sweats, trying to get a good angle.
It was trickier than he'd thought it'd be, and he huffed, cheeks red with a mix of frustration and embarrassment.
He stopped and stroked himself a few times, teeth sinking into his lip as he thought about Tony getting off to a picture of him, of his cock hard and red and leaking.
Peter whined, squeezing at his cock, a bead of precum dribbling out the slit.
Fuck, that was it, that was what he needed.
Peter was blushing bright red as he took the picture but he was proud of himself.
It wasn't much, just a picture of his cock, his hand wrapped around the base and his tip glistening with precum. He really hoped Tony would like it, though.
Peter sent the photo quickly, not giving himself anytime to chicken out and not wanting to keep Tony waiting any longer.
Oh fuck, baby, I thought I'd scared you off, had me worried there for a minute, but fuck, that was well worth the wait
Peter chewed on his lip.
You like it then?
Baby, I love it! You did so good! Such a good boy for Daddy!
Peter whimpered, squirming on his bed.
Need to come, Peter sent, pleading because he was desperate but wanting to be good, wanting to get permission.
You earned it, baby boy. Go ahead and come for me.
Peter started to stroke himself, knowing he was so close.
He was young, not exactly great at lasting long, and his spidey senses made it so much more intense. There had been times where his cock rubbing against his jeans made him come in his pants, in class!
That had been so embarrassing, but he really just couldn't help it! A strong breeze was enough to get him hard, and now he was talking to his idol and crush, and he just knew he would have come already if he wasn't trying so hard not to.
You wanna do Daddy a favor, baby?
Peter paused, gripping his cock and sobbing when it throbbed in protest.
What?
Take a video for me. Daddy wants to see you get off.
Peter groaned, his head falling back to his pillow.
He was gonna fucking die. This was it. He had survived jumping off a building and praying his fucking webs would work and fighting crime in the streets as a fucking untrained Freshman, but this was gonna be the death of him. Sexting with Tony was gonna kill him.
I'm so close, sir
I know, baby, it's a lot, huh? You just gotta come, don't you?
Peter sobbed, squeezing his eyes shut but snapping them open when another message came through.
It's okay, baby, Daddy wants it all. Give it to me, Petey.
"Oh fuck," Peter whined, fumbling with his phone and quickly starting a recording and trying to keep his dick in the frame as he furiously jerked off.
"Holy shit, holy shit," Peter whined, his vision whiting out for a moment when he came. "Fuck, oh fuck, Daddy."
Peter's chest was heaving, his hand shaking as he stopped the video.
He tossed his phone next to him, needing a minute to settle.
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snexy-the-snail · 2 years
Text
Such as this wip that's been sitting in my Google drive for... oh shit 3 years-
Baby Stark Do do(Part 1)
Tony had a strange feeling about the meeting he was invited to hosted I Japan but pushed it aside after Pepper forced him to go despite his conplaints. He had been before with the same people and still shuddered at the memory of eating live octopus but relations were important and they were a large client of their easy to use products.
“Shake it off, nothing bad is going to happen.” He grumbles to himself as he fixed his sleeves. He had to admit he felt incredibly guilty about the idea of eating the poor thing alive which meant he would try everything he could to not condemn an innocent sea life to an unnaturally cruel death.
>Ah Stark! It is nice to see you again, come come.< His host greets excitedly leading him to the table. Tony mentally groaning when he saw the dishes with squirming tentacles. His was different though, a cup rather than a fish, decorated designs on it.
>I have to say I wasnt expecting octopus again.< He says calmly as he takes his seat, the other members taking their seats infront of the dishes. Much to his relief they weren't living anymore, maybe his wasn't either.
>We got you something special, it isn't exactly octopus.< the host says plucking his own octopus up with chop sticks. Tony riases a brow at that and popped his lid off of the cup his heart nearly stopping when a tiny and terrified face peered back at him. There was no way he was leaving without saving this kid..even if it was risky and going to be utterly terrifying for the kid and they would probably eat him if he didnt. If he drank enough water there shouldn't be any ill effects.
Peter wasnt sure what was happening after he had been caught by weird and large land creatures but they stashed him away with other sea creatures that had tentacles like him. He got a pretty good idea of what was going to happen to him when a few of the staff members proceed to kill the friends he had made. He tried to stay away but they put him in a cup and sealed it. He didn't understand why they wanted to eat him! They looked like him just..odder
“Please please no! Please.” He tries begging when his prison was opened, trying to climb out, two wood sticks stopped him however, the rude land creature who trapped him with said sticks saying something in the language he didnt understand before lifting him up. He knew that English was a land creatures tongue but that's not what they were speaking!
He whimpers trying to grasp tightly onto the wood as the air form the land creatures mouth hits him. It was strange at how upset the creature looked. He stared back at the creature refusing to let go of the wood. He didnt want to be chewed up like the other friends he had made, or chopped up.
“Please let me go.” He whimpers. He flinches at the sigh of teeth hating he didnt even get an answer. The other land creatures laugh at him making all his hope of being saved disapate. He clings onto the wood as he was lowered down, the heat making him shudder in utter fear. He didnt want to die, he didnt want to be chewed up!
“P-please I dont wanna die.” Peter almost sobs at this point. He squeezes his eyes shut clinging desperately onto the wood as he felt the warmth incase him. It didnt matter apparently because soon enough the land creatures tongue pushed him off, the wood disappearing instantly.
It was warm and slick in the land creature's mouth and he found himself waiting for the next move. He yelps at the awkward swallow surprised he wasnt taken down with it. That was cruel the land creature was toying with him. He sniffles and rubs his face grimacing when it just left a slick trial of saliva. He was surprised when the mouth opened again, cool water rushing into him and dragging him down with ease.
Tony felt awful for the small thing he really did, even more so at the poor things begging and pleading. As long as he kept drinking water the kid would be fine, probably freaked out by fine. He squares his shoulders as he takes a large gulp of his water feeling something cold and wiggly slip into his throat. It wasnt a pleasant experience, even more so when he felt the small thing squeeze into his stomach. God he could practically feel every movement. He quickly finished his glass, asking for another. Might as well make the kids stay as pleasant as possible.
He sighs shakily, resting a hand subtly over his middle lightly rubbing where the squirming mass was. He could do this.. surely the meeting wouldn't last very long.
It was a long meeting with the kid squirming around in his stomach but after 20 minutes the kid seemed to get he was alright. Tony was quick to duck into the hallway the second the meeting ended, pressing the area he felt the small weight settled in. He winces when a startled but muffled yelp sounded out.
"Woah there kiddo, how you doing in there?” He asks quietly as he heads down the hall. He felt ridiculously full with all the water he had drunken that meal but Hey the kid was alive. He could feel the small things tentacles wriggling around.
“P-please can I come out?”
This kid was going to tear his heart apart he swore. He glances around as he heads to his jet, relaxing now that he was alone. “Of course, just give me a second.” He murmurs softly heading to the bathroom.
He frowns and starts filling the sink up with warm water, the kid squirming around anxiously as if he was going to be digested any second. Considering where he was Tony didnt blame him, his stomach letting a gurgle of protest out as the water sloshed at the movements.
“Alright kid brace yourself.” He says grimacing. He takes a deep breath before sticking a finger down his throat gagging heavily a few times before water started trickling out. He grunts slightly and sticks his finger down further gaging loudly before he felt something slip back his throat and plop into his hand. He let's a shaky breath out quickly dipping the small thing into the awaiting water.
He grimaces and wipes his mouth relived the kid seemed alright, nervous and looking around but alright.
Peter almost missed the soft walls and darkness of the area but he was grateful to be out. “So...it’s nice to eat you and everything, I’m Tony Stark.”
“M’ Peter.”
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