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jadedxrealityw · 3 years

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-Mind Stone- Peter Parker x Female Reader Part 2

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Kody: Part 2 in this shit

Movie/Show: After Endgame, but no one died because ignorance is bliss.

Summary: In the attack of 2012, you were given powers that you couldn’t understand at such a young age.

Possible Triggers / Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of blood and harm,

☼-☪-☼

Tony handed you a bandaid. You took it from his hand and notice the cartoon picture of Iron Man on it. What a not surprised in the slightest. You peel off of the paper backing and stick it over the small wound caused by the needle. “Were done, but i want you to stay here until we can get Thor and antlers here”

you exhale deeply. After already spending the night you thought you’d be back at the girls home by now. Not that you wanted to go back, you just didn’t want to hear Nancy’s bitching once you did return “I think my caretaker might worry about me if i’m gone again”

Tony placed the tablet he was holding on the counter and looked at you “Yeah she’s a real piece of work isn’t she. You have special permission now” he says. What in the vague. You hop off the chair and feel your phone buzz in your pocket.

you stuck your hand into the dark grey sweatpants you wore. Wanda offered you clothes to sleep in so you wouldn’t be so uncomfortable. She gave you a matching slightly cropped tank and sweatpants. She was a sweetheart. Once you pull out your phone you tap the screen.

it was a text from Peter ‘Can you get away for a minute?’ you hold back the urge to smile and look up at Tony “Can i go?” you ask and he waves his hand, shooing you way “Yeah we’re good. Get some rest and make sure to hydrate. Now get out”

you roll your eyes with a half smile before walking towards the door “Bye” you say before pushing it open and heading out.

☼-☪-☼

you push open the door you were staying in and saw Peter sitting on the bed, picking at his nails. He looks up once he hears the noise and smiles upon seeing you “Hey” he says. You smile back and walk over to stand in front of him, looking down to meet his gaze “Hello”

Peter looks at you then the bed. What is he a bed? You take a seat next to him, but end up laying back to look at the ceiling “You look tired” Peter says and lays back next to you. You chuckle quietly “Yeah. I got my blood drawn, but at least it’s over with”

Peter hums in response. You notice he awkwardly folded his hands over his chest, not knowing what to do with them. You shuffle over and lay your head on his chest, feeling him instantly tense up. “Is this okay or are you going to implode?”

he shakes his head “No!-” he protests “i mean it’s okay, just uh- just stay there” he says in a more quiet tone. You stifle a bit of laughter and curl up next him, feeling a bit drowsy at this point. Peter wraps arm around your waist “Are you tired?”

“Yeah a little” you respond, closing your eyes. Peter holds onto you as he moves to the top of the bed, laying his head on a pillow “You should sleep then, i’ll wake you up if something happens” he talked in a more hushed tone now. You smile before dozing off.

“Y/n?” he says before he is interrupted by quiet snores. He smiles to himself, wishing he didn’t leave his phone in his bag so he could take a picture of you. Would that be weird? It’s not like he would made it his lockscreen. Nevermind that’s the exact reason he would take a photo.

he raised his free arm to try and web his bag to him, but once he did you started to stir slightly “Not worth it not worth it” he mumbles before kissing your head. He stays still until you stop moving before exhaling. He had never cared about another person's nap so much.

damn his arm was starting to fall asleep.

☼-☪-☼

an hour later

Wanda opened the door to your room and was slightly surprised to see Peter playing with your hair while you slept on his chest “Uh- i knocked, why didn’t you say anything?” she asked. Peter looked down at you for a moment then Wanda “I didn’t want to wake her up. I also can’t feel my arm”

she smiles brightly at the young love “Why didn't you just move her” she questions, folding her arms across her chest “I have never moved each time you fell asleep on me” Vision spoke from behind her. Wanda looks at him with a slightly shocked expression “You can move. I wouldn’t have been mad”

“That’s not the point darling. I don’t want to move” Vision replies. Wanda sighs “Will talk more about this later’ she says to him before “Tony would like to see her in the main lobby. i’m assuming he doesn’t know your here?” she says with a small grin.

Peter smiles nervously “Yeah- i snuck in. I- i- can get her up. Just give me a few minutes” he said with a pleading look. Wanda smiles, nodding and grabs Visions arm “Bye Peter” she said and walked alongside her lover, closing the door shut.

Peter sighs, not really wanting to move at this point, but knew you had to be somewhere. He starts to softly shake your shoulder “Y/n- Y/n you have to get up. Mr. Stark needs you in the lobby” you mumble something incoherent to him before rolling over onto your other side. “No”

he chuckles to himself and stretches his arm for a second “Come on- we can always sleep later” he tries to rationalize. You groan out before propping yourself up on your elbows “Fine, but i’m not going to enjoy whatever the hell is happening” you say in an attempt to be petty.

you hear Peter laugh at your response “I’ll come with you then” he suggests. You smile slightly at the thought and throw your legs over the bed. “Let’s go then” you say and let out yawn. You walk over to the side of the bed Peter was on nd slip your feet into the slippers on the floor.

Peter stands up and reaches up to fix his now bed head. You lift your hand and move a piece of hair from his face “Thank you” he says and you nod. Suddenly, he leans down and captures your lips in his, catching you a bit off guard but you weren’t complaining.

you went to pull away when one his hands was placed on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Well damn Peter Parker. He deepens the kiss more by placing his other hand on the nape of your neck. After a couple seconds you both pull away “What was that for?” you ask.

“I haven’t got to kiss you all day” he says with a brow raised like it was so obvious. “Oh okay” you hold back some laughter.

☼-☪-☼

you and Peter walk to the lobby. During your small walk he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kept you close to him while he talked about how he got his powers. A radioactive spider. That seemed much more awesome then being manipulated by a god at the age of six.

“Well look at you two” you both look up too see Tony grinning at the both of you so close together. Peter’s face flushes, but he keeps his arm around you “Tony don’t tease them” Wanda comments. Peter hides his face behind your head until the redness went down.

“Nice one Spider-Boy” you comment, earning yourself a small growl under his breath, which was interesting to hear to be honest. Suddenly a yellow circle appeared in front of the glass doors. You instinctively take a step back, but Peter keeps you in place “It’s okay” he reassures.

you trust his word and stay put as the circle grew quite large. A man stepped out. He was wearing sort of medieval clothes with a maroon cape that seemed to move on its own- Dr. Strange? “Hello” he said to the room and steps to the side as....Thor the god of thunder steps through the portal, hair cut short.

at first you were slightly fangirling inside, but then it sunk in who would walk in next. In all his glory, Loki the god of mischief walks through and stands next to his brother. He was wearing an all black suit. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to throw up or run away- maybe both.

“Would anyone like to explain why we’re here?” Thor asks, shaking Tony’s hand. “I would also like to know that, considering no one here likes me” Loki adds, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “Yeah antlers shut it- 2012 attack. Remember talking to a little girl?”

Loki gave Tony a strange look “May i remind you all that i was under the control of Thanos and barley remember a thing. Also, what little girl? I hate children” he says with a face of slight disgust. “I might be able to help you all with that” Strange cuts in.

“Even if you don’t remember anything. Those memories are still locked away in your head. I could access them” he says, gesturing to one of his hands. Loki looks him up and down “I will not have anyone inside my head, that’s sort of my thing” he retorts.

Thor crosses his arms over his broad chest “Why is this important?” he directed his question to Tony. “Infinity Stone cleanup.” he says vaguely. Loki sighs and takes a deep breath after “Fine- make it quick and only look at what you need too.

Strange steps forward “Trust me- i don’t want to look at anything else” he reassures amd steps behind Loki. He placed his hands on either sides of Loki’s head and began to mumble a few words. In an instant it was like Loki became a projector.

his memory was played in a hologram like manner. Peter and you watch from behind so its inverted for the both of you- not like you haven’t lived through it or anything, but okay. All of you watched as Loki gave you the powers and your tiny body float up then faint.

once the memory was over Loki watched the tiny child disappear along with the memory and left standing behind the little girl was you. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together at this point. “Why did you show me this?” Loki snapped, pushing Strange’s hands away from his head.

“Because reindeer games. You under the raisins control only gave her a tad of the Mind Stone’s power- just the teleportation and portals. You gave her some of your powers” Tony says. The room collectively gasped “I- What?” Loki replied before looking at you.

you felt your body tense a bit. Peter felt his spidey sense flare up and kept his arm tightly wrapped around you, but for so long you wanted to confront this guy. Tell him off. Wish him dead, but you had just learned it wasn’t his fault. What were you to do now?

you push away from Peter, despite his protest and confidently walked up to Loki, stopping a few feet away from him “Hey, i guess” you say, shrugging your shoulders. Loki gulps and nods at you “Hello. I uh- i apologize for what i did” he said, you can tell he was struggling to find the words.

you wave your hand “Don’t be. You can do one thing for me though” you say, a malicious grin making a way to your face. Loki narrows his eyes before answering “and that would be?” he asked. What could you possibly want from him?

“Teach me how to use it”

☼-☪-☼

a month later

“You can do better” Loki scolded as he circled around you. You were both in the training room and had been at it for three hours. You were regretting asking him to teach you how to use these damned powers. “Go again!” he exclaims and you form to blades as he charges at you.

you push yourself left and watch as Loki stumbles a bit. You use this opportunity to drop down and kick him completely off balance. Loki falls to the floor and as you went to hit him, he kicked you in the chest, knocking the wind out of you “OH you slimy prick!” you coughed.

Loki grins as he pushes himself off the floor “I’ll add it to the list of things you call me” he says before coming at you again. You stood there and waited until he was inches away before dropping to the floor and sliding across. You end up behind him and wrap your arm around his neck, holding the blade against it.

you could Loki huffs to try and catch his breath “Much better. Now we’re done for the day” he declares. You exhale and let go of him “Thank god” you say and wave your hand, the blade fading away. “I’ll clean up, you leave. I’m sure your bug boy is waiting for you” Loki rolls his eyes.

“His name is Peter and he’s scared of you” you say with narrowed eyes. His frown turns into a small grin “Good” he replies. You chuckle to yourself before walking towards the door “Bye Loki” you say before walking out the room. Time to hit the showers.

☼-☪-☼

after taking a shower, you sat down on your bed, looking out the window. You wished Loki was right about Peter waiting for you, but he had been busy all week with crime and patrolling. He was Spider-Man after all. You had just hadn’t expect to be so clingy.

it was late as much you wanted to stay up for him you decided to just get some rest. You had put on Peters midtown sweatshirt he left a couple weeks ago. It smelt like him so it’ll have to do until you could see your actual boyfriend ago- holy shit. He had never really asked you to be his girlfriend.

how come you didn’t notice that before? You were just happy to be with him that you didn’t care about the labels and such. Strange. You climb into bed and pulled the comforter over you while grabbing a pillow to hug close to your chest. It helped you fall asleep sometimes.

you plug in your phone and place it on the empty space in the bed. Closing your eyes you force yourself to drift off to sleep so tomorrow could come quicker. It was child like logic, but hey- sometimes children logic is all you need.

☼-☪-☼

a couple hours later

your eyes slowly open and your met with the sight of Peter in his suit, just outside your window. He was knocking on it and looking around outside. Not creepy at all. You get up out of bed, using one hand to rub your eyes while the other undid the latch of the window.

“Hey. Sorry for waking you” he says, climbing into the room and taking off his mask. You walk back to your bed and pick up your phone “Peter it’s two in the morning. Isn’t May going to worry where you are?” you question. YOu turn around just as his suit faded into the spider symbol.

Peter shakes his head and places the symbol down on the dresser “No. She knows i’m staying here tonight” he says. You narrow your eyes, walking over to him “You didn’t tell me you were staying over. I haven’t gotten any time with you this week” you say with a small pout.

he smiles and grabs your hands “That’s why i’m here- is that my sweatshirt?” he asked, looking down at the blue piece of clothing. You shrug “Maybe” he shakes his head “You look really good in it Might have to let you keep it” he says and leans down to give you a kiss, but you turn your head away.

“I wasn’t planning on giving it back to you bug boy” you tease. Damn- you gotta stop hanging out with Loki for awhile. Peter’s face drops “I’m ignoring the bug comment for now. You rejected my kiss. I haven’t kissed you all week Y/n” his tone was whiney and made you want to laugh.

“I’m sorry” you say trying to hold back laughter. Peter smiles and finally plants his lips on yours, It was like every other kiss, sweet. Until Peter did his whole hand on the back of your neck thing to pull you in for deeper kiss. You reach up to wrap your arms loosely around his neck.

Peter lifts you off the ground and places you on the bed, breaking the kiss “Hm. I missed that” he whispers and leans his forehead against yours. You smile, looking up at him. You arms fall as you let out a yawn “and i missed my human pillow, now get under the covers”

“Yes ma’am” he replies with a quiet laugh and lays on his back. You lay your head on his chest and tangle your legs with his. Peter pulls the blanket over the both of you “Night Y/n” he says and kisses your head sweetly before closing his eyes. You smile and close yours as well.

“Goodnight Peter”

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Kody: shitty end, but hey i thought it was decent. Request be open btw. Anyways, peace.

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diazevan · 4 years

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11. Psych 101 “Crying”

While stranded, in the past, Peter crosses paths with a familiar face.

AO3 Link

Following the final battle, which became the ‘resting’ place of Thanos and his children, the world returned to a somewhat, normal state.

A couple of months passed when it became apparent that followers of Thanos, were on the move again, ready to stop at nothing to avenge him.

They were only small squadrons, of brainless beings, that were usually quite easy to take down.

Peter, after weeks of pleading, with Tony and May, was granted permission to tag along, with the team, to help. It gave him peace of mind, being able to watch over Tony, because at least, together, they could keep one another safe.

They managed to direct the fights, to the abandoned site of Sokovia, to make sure no civilians were caught in the crossfire.

Peter was standing alone, disarming the weaker forces of the army, “Wow,” He spun, sending out a laser web, disabling a lone Chitauri, “This isn’t too hard.”

Tony’s voice cracked through the commlink, “Don’t jinx it, kid.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Didn’t think you were superstitious, Mr. Stark.”

“I’m not, but, it’s good to be careful.”

“Gotcha,” Peter spun, noticing a herd of space dogs, heading straight for him, “Uh…” He hung his head back, “I hate these guys.”

He activated the Spider-Legs, on the Iron Spider suit, and readied himself, for the onslaught.

“Peter!” Wanda flew down, arms raised to her sides, “Stand back.”

He nodded, running aside, “Got it.”

Wanda waved her hand, sending the crowd hurdling to one side.

“Woah!” Peter’s eyes widened, “Thank you!”

He turned, and before his powers could even alert him, a space dog crashed into his chest, knocking him back a few paces.

“Ugh…” He shot a web, rendering it unconscious, he pushed it away, “Gross.”

Rhodey screamed, from nearby, “Spidey-Man stand aside!”

Peter turned, looking around, “What?”

Tony’s panicked voice followed, “Kid, move!”

Wanda squealed, “Peter!”

Peter twirled around, fast, “Oh—” It was too late, Wanda’s blast, hit him square in the chest, knocking him back, through the air, the last thing he saw before hitting the ground, was her haunted face.

“Ugh,” He reached for his head, he blinked rapidly, “I’m fine,” He felt the urgent need to reassure Wanda that he was okay, considering she hadn’t meant to hit him, “Wan—”

He sat up, realizing quickly, that he was no longer on the battleground.

“What?”

He was sprawled, on the corner of a sidewalk, stuck in the middle of the hustle and bustle of New York, which was probably why nobody had questioned Spider-Man randomly laid across the street.

“Okay…” Peter pushed himself up, onto his feet, “What?” He headed to the closest wall, to survey his situation, “Can anybody hear me?”

Radio silence.

Peter darted his eyes around, when he realized, something wasn’t right.

He was in the centre, of Times Square, but it didn’t look normal.

The people rushing around were dressed differently, mostly in suits, and formal dresses. The cars, on the road, were old fashioned, makes from the 60s and the 70s, ones that Peter had seen stocked away in Tony’s garage.

Peter yelped, “What?!”

He stepped aside, deactivating the Iron Spider suit, he thanked the stars that he wore under armor, which was basically a fancy tracksuit.

He didn't have shoes.

“Shit…” He turned, making his way down the road, trying to blend in with the crowds, “This isn’t real, this can’t be real...”

He hurried around, until he found a street, that not many people were on.

Peter perched on a brick wall, taking a second to breathe, “God…” He caught a glimpse of a newspaper, hanging out of a trashcan.

He strode over, grabbing it, to check the date.

September 16th 1976.

“Oh, Wanda…” He dropped it, “What have you done?”

He paced, wondering what he could do.

The hairs, on the back of his neck, stood on edge.

He leaned forward, listening out.

The cry of a child came from nearby

Despite, being lost, in the past, Peter couldn’t ignore it.

He circled the corner, “Hello?”

Tucked up, on brick stairs, was a little boy, with neat, combed brown hair, and a puffy red face, he was hugging his knees.

He was well dressed, in a tailored suit, not the usual fashion for a kid, even for the seventies.

“Hey,” Peter kneeled, “Are you okay?”

The boy jumped, startled, “Um…” He looked up, “Mummy says I’m not meant to talk to strangers.”

“That’s true,” Peter shuffled back, “My name’s Peter.”

“Uhhh,” The boy straightened his back, “I’m…” He held out his trembling hand, “I’m Anthony Stark.”

Peter bit down, hard, on his lower lip, concealing a yelp.

“Everybody calls me Tony.”

Peter took Tony’s hand, to shake it, “Nice to meet you, Tony.”

Tony moved his other hand, away from his face, and Peter could suddenly see it.

He’d seen pictures of Tony when he was younger, but he hadn’t recognized him behind the red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks.

Peter looked around, “Are you lost?”

“I was out with Mum and Dad…” Tony’s leg nervously rocked, “I tripped over my laces and broke a vase.”

Peter settled, on the heels of his feet.

Tony spoke formally, not like a child should, “Dad got mad, so I ran, and I can’t find them.”

“I see,” Peter nodded, “Well, that wasn’t your fault.”

“I’m—” He stuttered, “I’m not very good with laces…” He ducked his head, “Dad said it’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not,” Peter leaned, tying Tony’s laces, “We all need help with little things sometimes.”

“Thank you.”

Peter swallowed the lump in his throat, “Do you want me to help find your parents?”

Tony nodded, reaching out to take Peter’s hand, “Yes, please.”

Despite not wanting to see Howard, in fear of what he’d do, Peter wanted to make sure Tony got home safe, “Do you remember where you were?”

“I ran quite far,” Tony said, darting his eyes around, “But I think Uncle Jarvis’ and Aunt Ana’s house is close to here.”

Peter’s mind twigged because Tony spoke highly of Jarvis and Ana, he loved them like they were his parents.

He’d driven passed their old house, pointing it out, gleefully on multiple occasions.

Peter looked at Tony, with a smile, “Do you know which way?”

Tony swung Peter’s arm back, “Yeah, I think so.”

They wandered down the street, in silence, for a while.

Tony hung his head, “Peter, you’re not wearing any shoes!"

“Oh,” Peter sighed, “I know, I lost them.”

Tony didn’t question it, “Does the ground hurt your feet?”

“Not really,” Peter said, “I’ll get new ones.”

Tony grinned, “Uncle Jarvis probably has some you can borrow.”

“It will be fine, thank you,” Peter said, “I’ve got some at home.”

“Okay,” Tony sang, he leaped over the cracks in the sidewalk, “Do you read comics, Peter?”

Peter turned his face away, hiding a fond smile; Tony had a knack for changing the subject, whenever he could, “I do sometimes.”

“I like Batman,” Tony smiled, with a jump, “He’s cool.”

Peter snorted a laugh, “One day, you might be a superhero.”

“I wish I could be.”

Only if he knew.

Tony guided Peter around another corner, “What do you do, Peter?”

“Um, I’m at high school,” Peter told him, “What about you?”

“I have tutors, at home,” He shrugged, “And I’m gonna go to boarding school when I’m bigger.” He slouched his shoulders, “Daddy wants me to go to MIT.”

Already thinking of college at age six, was not normal.

Tony truly had his childhood swept away.

Peter massaged the back of his neck, “That’s where I want to go too.”

“It’s very good.”

Peter bobbed his head, “It is.”

Tony stopped walking and pointed, “That’s their house.”

They moved up the stairs, Peter knocked on the door, three times, while keeping Tony’s hand, in his own.

The door clicked open, revealing Ana, she was in her late fifties, but still had vibrant auburn hair, with a couple of grey streaks, “Tony!” She exclaimed, looking at her nephew, “We’ve all been so worried.” She leaned forward, holding out an arm, “You’ve had us running around like headless chickens, sweetheart.”

“Aunt Ana!” Tony rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her legs, “Sorry,” He spun around, waving his hand, “This is Peter!”

“Ah.” Ana stepped forward, holding out her hand, “Nice to meet you, Peter.”

Peter shook it, “Nice to meet you too.”

She kept a hand on Tony’s back, “Thank you so much, for keeping our Tony safe.” She turned, “Edwin, darling!”

Jarvis circled in, the panic on his face morphed into relief, “Thank, Goodness…” He rushed ahead, “Mr. Stark…”

Tony sprinted over, “Uncle Jarvis!”

Jarvis crouched, catching Tony, in a hug, “I’m so glad you’re safe, young man.”

Tony leaned back, rubbing his sleeve over his face, “I’m sorry I ran.”

Ana placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder, guiding him inside, “Edwin, this is Peter, he helped Tony find his way here.”

Jarvis stood, “Peter.” He shook his hand, “Nice to meet you.” He smiled, “Thank you.”

Peter stared, in disbelief, because, for the longest time, Jarvis and Ana were stories, but he was seeing them, for real, “It’s no trouble.”

“Would you like a cup of tea, darling?” Ana asked, “I think you're owed one.”

“Uh…”

Jarvis cut him off, “I’m sure, Mr. and Mrs. Stark would like to thank you, in person.”

Tony skipped over, tugging Peter’s hand, “I can show you my room!”

Technically, Peter had nowhere else to go, “I guess I’ll stay then.”

Ana squeezed his arm, “I’ll bring your tea up to you.”

“Thank you.”

Jarvis looked to him, “How do you like it?”

“Um, not too strong, with two sugars, please.”

“Coming right up.”

“Come on.” Tony lead him upstairs, into his room, “Wanna play Snakes and Ladders?” He asked, rushing over to a bookcase.

“Sure.”

Peter perched, on the edge of the bed.

He watched, seeing how happy Tony was, struck him, knowing how sad, he grew up to be.

Tony was loved, by so many, but grew up believing he was worthless because his dad never looked at him twice.

Tony laid out the Snakes and Ladders’ board, giving Peter the dice.

They were halfway through their third game when Ana brought Peter his cup of tea and a glass of juice for Tony.

Peter placed it, on the bedside cabinet, “Thank you.”

Ana took out a polaroid camera, “Do you mind?” She asked, raising it.

Peter shrugged, “Not at all.”

She held it up, “Smile boys.”

Tony waved, with the widest smile.

Peter watched him, fondly.

Knocks, at the front door, caught their attention.

“I better go and see who that is,” Ana left, taking the camera and photo, with her.

A woman’s voice echoed up, “Hello.”

Jarvis spoke, “Mr. Stark?”

“Jarvis.” That had to be Howard, “Where is he?”

Tony moved away from Peter’s side, and stood, at the end of his bed, with a forced posture.

Maria Stark entered, “Tony?” She smiled, relief in her eyes, “Honey..”

Tony walked over, hugging her, “Mum…”

“Hello, baby… “ She kneeled, taking his hands, “We were so worried.”

“I’m sorry.”

Howard strode in, chin held high, “Maria…” He barked, “He’s a growing boy, he doesn’t need to be coddled.”

Peter stood, clenching his fists by his sides.

Howard glared, at Tony, “You’re in a lot of trouble when we get home.”

Maria stood, “You must be Peter.” She shook his hand, “Thank you, for helping.”

“Son…” Howard took out his wallet, “Let us…”

“I don’t want your money,” Peter held up his hands, “I was glad to help.”

Howard thrust out the cash, in his hand, “Don’t be modest.”

“I can’t.”

Howard pushed, “Take it—"

Peter answered, through gritted teeth, “I won’t accept money from you.”

Howard stepped back, “What?”

“I can’t,” Peter replied, quick, “Not from somebody who talks to their son, like you do.”

Maria’s eyes widened, she stepped closer to Tony.

Tony leaned forward, peering from behind her son.

Howard stared like Peter had punched him, “I beg your pardon?”

“I lost my parents when I was Tony’s age, but I remember how good they were,” Peter informed him, “My Aunt and Uncle raised me, they respected me, and my—” He stopped, having no idea how to explain Tony’s relevance in his life, it was hard, to put into words, instead he pointed, “That’s what he needs.”

Howard frowned; anger bubbling to the surface.

“Your son is six, and you treat him like he’s sixteen,” Peter snapped, unable to stop, “He got lost, he was scared, that’s not something you punish a kid for. You should be asking him if he’s okay, telling him he can have anything he wants for dinner.”

Howard sneered, “You’re not Tony’s father.”

“I know,” Peter narrowed his eyes, “Maybe, instead of seeing him as an investment, or company property, you should see him as your son.” His voice raised, “He’s scared of the dark, and you keep him in it. You’ll be the one to blame when he grows up to resent you.”

Howard’s jaw dropped, speechless.

Peter turned to Maria, “I better go—”

“Yes—” She leaned over, to mutter, “Thank you.”

Tony rushed over, hugging Peter’s leg, tight, “Goodbye.”

Peter squeaked, tears, in his eyes, “Bye.”

He rushed passed, the startled Howard, down the stairs, where Jarvis and Ana were stood, silent.

“It was lovely meeting you,” His mouth twitched into a smile, “You’re good people, and Tony loves you both very much.” He nervously interlocked his fingers, “Thank you.”

He rushed out before they could say anything.

The sun was setting, and the street was desolate.

He needed to find somewhere, to lay low, for a little while.

He wiped tears, out of his eyes, “Shit.” He bent over, a knot in his stomach, “Wow.”

“Peter, wait!” Maria shouted, after him, running down, “All—”

He spun, “I’m sorry,” He quickly said, “I shouldn’t have shouted.”

“My husband is a grown man.” She stopped, in front of him, “He can take it, and you know what? He deserves it.” She nodded, “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

“There’s something about you, that’s peculiar…” She scanned him, “Have we met before?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“You speak about Tony like you know him.”

Peter didn’t know what to do, but he could see the desperation, in her eyes, and the love, she held inside, for Tony, “Can you keep a secret, Mrs. Stark?” He asked, “That nobody else can know.”

She nodded, “Yes.”

“I do know Tony…” Peter told her, “Just not yet.”

“Excuse me?”

Peter tapped his arm, activating the Iron Spider armor, but he kept the mask off.

“What—” She stepped back, “What is this?”

“It’s my suit,” He hiccupped, “I’m a superhero.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Like in real life?”

“Yeah,” He nodded, “Tony’s one too.”

“He’s a child.”

“Not yet…” He stumbled, “In the future.”

She laughed nervously, “Are you saying, you’re from the future?”

“I know it sounds crazy.”

She tilted her head, to her shoulder, “Honey, it’s delusional.”

Peter tapped his arm, “Karen, are you still working?”

“Yes, Peter, I am running on backup power.”

Maria looked around, “Who was that?”

“The suit.” Peter answered, “Karen, can you show me files on Tony Stark?”

“Of course, personal or work?”

“Personal, please.”

Karen projected a picture, of Peter, Tony, and Morgan, sprawled across the couch together.

“That’s extraordinary,” Maria pointed, “He looks just like my father.”

“That’s Tony,” Peter said, “In 2023.”

She shook her head, “2023?”

“Yeah,” He moved his finger, “That’s my sister, Morgan.”

She looked at him, with wide eyes, “Your sister?”

“Karen, play, please.”

The video played.

Tony jumps onto the couch, ruffling Peter’s hair, with his hand.

Peter whines, “Mr. Stark…”

Tony shakes his head, with a laugh, “What movie should we watch?”

Morgan throws her arms, into the air, “Finding Nemo.”

Tony grins, “Again, really?”

“Yeah.”

Peter closed it and lowered his arm.

Maria blinked away tears, “That’s my Tony?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re his son?” She asked, “My-My grandson?”

“Basically,” Peter nodded, “He took me in…”

“And he’s happy?”

“He gets there, in the end.”

Maria leaned up, pulling him into a hug, “Thank you for showing me.”

Peter tangled his arms around her, “It’s so good to see you.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, honey.” She leaned back, “You tell him from me, that I’m proud of him, and all he's done,” She cupped his cheek, “And you give your sister, a big hug from your grandma, okay?”

“Okay,” Peter’s face contorted, “I don’t know if I-“

Wanda’s voice echoed, from nearby, “Peter!”

Peter turned his head.

“Peter, it’s me.”

He breathed, “Wanda?”

Maria frowned, concerned, “Are you okay?”

“I think my friends have found me,” He squeezed her hand, “I have to go.”

She kissed his cheek, “Stay safe.”

“Bye.”

Suddenly, he was flying, through a blanket of red.

He landed, on a laminate floor, with a thump, “Woah.” He was inside the training room, of the Headquarters, surrounded by the team.

Scott cheered, from behind the quantum tunnel, “He’s back!”

Cheering filled the room.

Rhodey applauded, “It actually worked!”

Peter looked around, his eyes finding the one person he wanted to see, “Tony…”

Tony bent down, pulling Peter to his feet, “Oh, kid…” He dragged him, into his arms, “That was the longest week of my life.”

Peter peeled back, stunned, “It’s been a week?!”

“I’m so sorry, Peter,” Wanda stepped out, “I didn’t even know I could do that, I was trying so hard-“

“It’s okay, I know,” He leaned over, hugging her, “It’s fine, I’m back.”

“You’re lucky, that Friday recalled something, from my archives,” Tony held out the polaroid picture, that Ana had taken, “Turns out, you’re real,” He laughed, “Thought you were imaginary.”

Peter laughed, “Surprise.”

Tony tugged him into another hug, kissing his cheek, “Thank you.”

#whumptober2020 #no.11 #psych 101 #crying #peter parker #tony stark #ana jarvis #edwin jarvis #maria stark #howard stark #irondad #irondad fanfiction #irondad but the roles are switched....it was fun to turn it around!#liberty's writing

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joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

Text

Feels weird to cry with a smile

Summary: Peter spends his 17th birthday in quarantine, so Tony decides to make it a bit more special (TWs: discussion of bullying, financial problems, and very brief mentions of COVID-19)

Irondad Taglist: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @hold-our-destiny @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty @skeeter-110 @m3ga1nsp1r3d @nazezdha321 @peterparkerspidgeons

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!)

Read on Ao3

“Peterrrrr. Time to wake up sweetie.” The voice sounded rather far away, but when someone put a hand on Peter’s shoulder it seemed to jolt him back and he groaned.

“Aun’ Mayyyy, nooooo,” Peter whined, turning onto his chest and burying his face in his pillow.

“Aww c’mon, don’t you want to celebrate your birthday kiddo?” May said.

“I will celebrate very happily by sleeping,” Peter said into his pillow before turning and opening one eye with a squint. “My birthday anyway, shouldn’t I get to sleep in?”

“Well I suppose if you don’t want this cupcake here, I’ll just leave you to sleep the day away--”

“Fine, fine, I’m up,” Peter said, pushing himself off his belly and twisting around to face his Aunt, giving her a glare. “Since when did you make me cupcakes for breakfast?”

“Since it’s your birthday today and I wanted to do something special,” she said. She held up the cupcake for Peter to see. It was red velvet, with thick cream cheese frosting on top, and decorated with a black spider web. In the center was a single blue candle, which May lit with her lighter.

“Happy Birthday baby,” she said. “Make a wish.”

But Peter was still a little annoyed at being woken up, so he just gave a huff, practically sighing the candle out.

“That was pathetic,” May said, raising her eyebrows.

“That was defiance of society. I will not be peer pressured into blowing out a candle with enthusiasm.”

Peter took the cupcake and plucked out the candle, licking the frosting off the bottom before starting to unwrap it and take a bite.

“Well if you’re defying society now, I bet you don’t want those presents downstairs since society was the one to dictate that people should get presents on their birthday--”

“I take it back, I'm part of society again,” Peter said quickly. “Feel free to peer pressure me into--” But he cut off as he suddenly processed exactly what May said. “Wait… did you say presents? Plural?”

Aunt May smiled a little sadly, patting his knee.

“Well, yeah. A certain someone figured out when your birthday was and decided to come celebrate. He wanted to make it extra special since you’d be spending your 17th in quarantine,” she said.

“Wait what--Is he here!?” Peter said, nearly dropping his half-eaten cupcake in surprise.

“Better come downstairs and see,” May said with a wink, and she stood up walking out of the room and down the stairs. Peter sat in his bed for a moment, staring at where she'd disappeared before quickly shoving the rest of the cupcake in his mouth and jumping out of bed, not even bothering to change out of his pajamas before thundering down the stairs and jumping the last five steps.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter shouted when he saw Tony standing in the kitchen. Tony jumped and whirled around in time for Peter to come barreling right into his chest, hugging him tightly. Tony laughed and wrapped his own arms around Peter, ruffling his hair.

“Happy birthday kiddo,” he said. “And how many times do I have to tell you? It’s Tony now.”

“Oh right, sorry,” Peter said, releasing him.

“No worries kid. How ‘bout we get some more food in you and then we can go open your presents?”

Peter nodded enthusiastically, feeling his belly grumble hungrily for more than just a cupcake. It turns out that May and Tony had been making a large stack of pancakes before waking him up, and Peter wolfed them down happily, laughing at Tony’s jokes between bites.

When they finished they went to the living room where Peter’s presents waited. Peter kept having to remind himself it was presents, not just a present. Peter didn’t usually get more than two or three presents for his birthday; one from May, one from Ned, and as of last year, one from MJ. But he figured since he wouldn’t be having a birthday party this year (stupid pandemic), he would just be getting the one. He was fine with that, but since Tony was part of this now Peter felt almost… unprepared. He had no idea how far out Tony goes for people’s birthdays but based on news reports of how wild his parties tend to be, Peter had a feeling he didn’t exactly limit himself.

And when Peter rounded the corner to the living room, he could see he was right.

The whole room had been decorated with Spider-Man themed decorations, red and blue balloons, a large red “Happy Birthday!” banner that had black webs patterned all over it, even white streamers designed to look like his webs. On the coffee table there was a plate of cupcakes that looked just like the one May had given him upstairs, and surrounding them were far more presents than Peter thought he’d ever gotten in his life.

Some of them were big, some were small, plenty of them were in very familiar looking boxes, but some of them Peter had absolutely no clue what could be inside. They were all wrapped in Spidey themed wrapping paper of course, red with black webs with yellow comic style letters reading “Thwip!” scattered across it.

Peter couldn’t even speak; he was so surprised. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears, and he was suddenly starting to feel nauseous. Tony actually had to prompt him before he could get any words out.

“You like it Underoos?”

“I--Yeah! This is amazing!” Peter said, but feeling much less than amazing. Questions and anxiety were overtaking his brain and somehow it was getting hard for him to feel his legs. “This is so cool--I just--I’ll be right back, um, bathroom.”

Peter could tell he hadn’t convinced either Tony or May, but at the moment he didn’t really care. He just walked as quickly as he could to the bathroom and shut the door with the snap.

He practically fell against the sink, holding himself upright with his hands and staring down into it as he started to gasp for air.

It’s too much, that’s way too much--He shouldn’t have--Why did he do that?

When his knees started to get too wobbly Peter turned and sat on the toilet lid, clenching his fists in his hair.

That’s so much money. He spent so much money. Why did he do that? I don’t need all that, why did he do that?

Peter went down this spiral of questions for the next minute or so before a soft knock came at the door.

“Peter? Baby can I come in?” came May’s kind voice. Peter mustered up enough strength to give a short “Yeah.” May stepped in and quietly shut the door behind her.

“Hey sweetie,” she said, kneeling down to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” Peter shook his head in frustration, taking a moment to gather his thoughts before he answered.

“That’s so much money Aunt May. He spent so much money on me. I don’t need all of that, I don’t need the decorations or the fancy wrapping paper or the freaking fifty presents in there--”

“I assure you it’s not fifty,” she said. She had that same slightly sad smile on her face that she had upstairs in Peter’s room, and it made him a little worried. “It’s okay to have things you don’t need Peter.”

“I know, I know, it’s just that that’s a lot--”

“I know, it is, Tony uh… well he goes all out with this kind of stuff. It’s how he shows people he cares, he gives them things. And obviously, he cares about you a lot hun,” she said, brushing Peter’s curls out of his eyes. Peter sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Yeah. It’s just that I’m not used to it,” he said. Almost immediately he knew that was the wrong thing to say.

“I know baby. I’m so sorry I could never--”

“Nope, no, do not apologize, don’t you ever apologize for something like that,” Peter snapped, looking up and pointing angrily at his Aunt. “Do not do that.”

May laughed and Peter wasn’t entirely sure if his point had really gotten through, but she ruffled his hair anyway and he decided not to push it. After a minute or so he felt ready to go out again and they met up with Tony in the living room.

He didn’t ask about what happened, just gave him a quick hug before excitedly pressing a gift into his hands, and Peter gave a laugh at the look of glee on Tony’s face. He somehow looked more excited for Peter to open it than Peter was to see it himself.

Peter spent almost the entire next hour opening all his presents, snacking on the cupcakes the whole time. He got several new lego sets, a couple that Tony said he bought for them to do together when he came over to the compound since he was pretty sure they were too big for the apartment. He also got quite a few science t-shirts, some of which he was almost certain Tony had designed himself as he had never seen them in his life. A couple of the presents were Funko Pop figurines since Peter had once mentioned he wanted to start up a collection, one of which was actually a little Spidey bobble-head dressed in his old suit made from a hoodie.

And just when he thought he’d finished all the presents, Tony fished a card out of his pocket, handing it to Peter a little more seriously than he had all the other gifts.

“What’s this?” Peter said.

“Just open it,” Tony said. Peter glanced at him, then carefully tore it open, taking out a white card with the Stark Industries logo on it. Odd birthday card, Peter thought. He opened it up and a folded up piece of paper fell out, revealing the words beneath which read:

“Welcome to the team.

Signed,

Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, The Vision, Thor Odinson, James Rhodes, and Tony Stark”

Peter stared for a moment before looking down at the paper that had fallen out. He picked it up and unfolded it.

It was a job application. To be an Avenger.

“Now I know you said you wanted to keep being a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, but I promise, nothing’s gonna change when you fill this out,” Tony said, seeming to misunderstand Peter’s stunned silence. “You won’t have to live in the compound or anything, I just thought since I pay the other Avengers I should pay you too, but of course we need all the paperwork and stuff in order to do that so--”

“You’re giving me a job?” Peter said, finally finding his voice. “I’m… I’m an Avenger now?” Tony’s smile softened.

“Yeah kiddo. Like we said, welcome to the team.”

Peter practically flew towards Tony, who stood up just in time to receive him, both of them hugging each other tightly.

“Thank you, thank you so much, thank you thank you thank you--”

“Haha, it’s no problem kid really,” Tony assured him. But that didn’t do much to ease the deeply grateful ache that had settled in Peter’s chest.

Even through the rest of the day building one of his new lego sets, watching his favorite Star Wars movies, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. They were on their third movie when Peter excused himself to grab a snack, but realized as soon as he stood up that he wasn’t actually in the mood for one.

He instead made his way quietly up the stairs to his room, where he shut the door and opened his window, climbing onto the fire escape. The sun was beginning to set now, and while the buildings in front of him blocked any view, the sky still looked beautiful and cast a hazy red glow everywhere.

Peter slipped the job application out of his pocket, staring at it. He didn’t even need to open it to feel the relief and elation in his chest swell, to the point where his lungs and throat started to feel tight and his eyes stung. Peter leaned his elbows on the guardrail, staring at the paper in his hands before it became too much and he ducked his head, sobs wracking his body.

He cried for a moment before suddenly he was laughing, laughing at the fact that he was literally crying out of joy, and how he couldn’t remember if he’d ever done that before.

Feels weird to cry with a smile, Peter thought. But the weight of his emotions was making his legs feel like jelly again, so he turned and sat down with his back against the guardrail, elbows resting on his knees instead.

That’s what Peter looked like when Tony opened the door.

“Peter?”

Peter snapped his head up, staring at Tony in surprise.

“Oh, hi Tony,” he said. “Your turn to check on me this time?”

“You bet,” he said. He quickly came over and crawled through the window, but his expression quickly changed to one of deep concern as he got a better look at Peter’s face. “Oh kid, what wrong? Are you okay?”

Peter let out what seemed to be halfway between a laugh and a sob as Tony sat down next to him.

“Nothing’s wrong. Happy tears,” he said, leaning his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Ah, I see. Happy tears about what?” Tony asked. Peter held up the job application. “Seriously? Kid, that really isn’t a big deal, it wasn’t out of my way at all--”

“I know it’s not a big deal to you, but it is to me. Heh, you’ve given me a lot more with this than you think you have,” Peter said.

“Okay… um, care to explain that?” Tony said with a slightly nervous chuckle. Peter laughed and thought for a moment.

“Aunt May and I uh… we’re not billionaires. Kinda poor actually. Not as bad as some people have it, we’ve always had what we needed. But um… we’ve never really had more than that. I’m at Midtown on a scholarship, and there’s next to no poor kids like me at that school. And honestly that’s not something that stayed a secret for very long. The wrong kid finds out you need free lunches and can’t afford to go to most of the field trips, you’ve got assholes calling you ‘trailer trash’ for the next four years even though you don’t even live in a trailer,” Peter said, gazing down at his toes.

“Jeez kid, I’m sorry, that’s awful,” Tony said.

“Heh, that’s not what I care about though. I don’t really care what they call me. It’s just that… when you’re poor, you miss out on a lot of stuff. I can’t go to most of the field trips they have at school cuz most of the financial aid requires me to sell things to people and who the hell has time for that? I’m in highschool and I’ve got AcaDeca and Spider-Manning to do, I don’t have time to raise money to go to a science exhibit, no matter how much I want to. And there’s so many times where I’ve said no to going to the movies or an amusement park because I was too embarrassed I couldn’t afford my own ticket.

“My point is, with this job, I can do all that now. I can go on the field trips, I can go to the movies and the parks, I can get Aunt May something other than a card and a cheap necklace for her birthday, maybe we could even take a trip over the summer now, and I just--” Peter cut off, wiping tears off his face as he gathered his thoughts. Tony reached back and started rubbing Peter’s back, giving him all the time he needed.

“You’ve given me so much today, legos, cool shirts, Funko Pops… but this? This feels like you just gave me the whole entire world.”

Tony didn’t say anything for a moment, just nodding and continuing to rub Peter’s back.

“So… is that part of why you ran away a little earlier? Right before we opened your presents?”

“Yeah. I’m uh, used to getting more like two or three, one each from Aunt May, Ned, and MJ. And when I saw how much you spent on me I just… I panicked. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to seem ungrateful.”

“Heh, don’t worry, your face when you opened that five foot tall Disney Castle lego set definitely assured me you were quite beyond grateful kiddo,” Tony said. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s alright, it’s not like you did it on purpose. You didn’t know the reaction I’d have. That’s just how you show people you care about them. I just gotta get used to it,” Peter said with a laugh. Tony chuckled along.

They sat in silence for a moment, bathed in the golden glow of the setting sun before Peter suggested they go back inside and finish the movie with his Aunt.

The last thing Peter thought before going to bed was Best. Birthday. Ever.

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #iron man #spider-man #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #spider-man fanfiction #fanfic #mcu fanfiction #MCU #happy birthday peter parker #peter parker's birthday #Happy Birthday Peter Parker!#Marko's Fanfiction

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youngbugandtonystank · 4 years

Note

Please write an irondad post about how peter feels about tony!! I feel like the directors make peter’s view of tony more subtle than Tony’s view of peter and it’d be awesome if you could decode it! ;0

Hi!

God, Tom’s words really got me♥

I’m going to use the movies and novelizations for this, especially the Homecoming novelization since I think no one talks about it and I want to point out certain things.

Ok, check this out:

Tony’s POV:

Peter's voice was as exuberant and light as ever, something Tony both secretly admired and feared. This battle would be no place for someone as green and unbroken as Peter Parker.

Tony smiled as Peter stood tall in the center.

"Yeah, that makes sense" Peter said, and Tony's heart broke. Even hanging off the side of a spaceship hurtling into space, seconds from dying, Peter Parker was still just open and trusting as he'd always been.

Peter’s POV:

"What if she’s expecting someone like Tony Stark? I mean, imagine how disappointed she’d be when she sees me."

dorks.

I just wanted to be like you.

And I wanted you to be better.

You know that feeling you get when you admire someone and at the same time, you feel like you can actually understand them? Yeah, this is them. They work like a mirror. This is how Peter feels, just like Tony sees himself in the kid, Peter identifies himself in Tony. Peter and Tony both react the same way when it comes to their relationship. They both think the other is ‘better’ and at the same time, they can understand each other pretty well.

Tony’s POV:

At the same time, Tony knew there was nothing he could do to keep Peter away. Just like Tony, Peter had a code.

Peter’s POV:

Of course, Mr. Stark hadn't believed him. He'd seen right through him.

Peter has stated before that Tony made him feel okay and normal, something he never thought he’d feel again. He knows that if he gets Tony’s approval then he gets to feel that normalcy again. He feels understood.

It was probably the only place in the city where I fit in. You had your overachievers, genius-level-yet-stressed-out-obsessive-compulsives, inventors of the Next Big Thing, all with at least one overblowing backpack, all wiling in to forge new ground and show the world that nerds really would inherit the earth. I was surrounded by students showing off their newest advances in AI technology, “rebels” furiously hacking their way to exposing corruption online, friends discussing string theory, and the probabilities of Stephen Hawking’s multiverse.

This is how Peter thinks of himself, he thinks his school is probably the only place he fits in. I think I mentioned this before in my homecoming analysis but Peter’s need to be an Avenger is because 1. he truly wants to make a difference, 2.he’s bored, he’s a genius kid and school is not doing enough for him anymore and 3. he feels like Tony is the only one that can understand him.

I don’t understand exactly why but some people think Peter is dumb. He can be clumsy sometimes but this kid is a genius and he understands the struggles of having a brain like his.

“Do geniuses know how normal things like backpacks even work?“

“Yes, we are familiar,“ Peter replied with a weak smile. If only she knew...

“Right as always,” Ms. Warren said, her praise causing Flash to stare daggers at me. Whatever.

“Yeah, my parents feel guilty working all the time, you guys would really get along, Peter” Her joke hit a little close to home, and I looked down a little.

He looked from the ship to the other kids on the bus to see if anyone else saw it. Nothing. Just him. As usual.

Peter not only wants the understanding that comes from Tony, but he also wants someone he can relate to. And I’m not talking about money or fame, I’m talking something deeper.

When they were on the plane, Peter criticized Tony’s choice of food as if telling him that what he was eating wasn’t enough to be considered ‘food’ and then proceeded to only have some juice and sleep the rest of the trip because he recklessly pulled an all-nighter. lmao irondad stans you guys are always accurate with your fics.

Also, are you really going to tell me that this is not what a relationship between a father and a son look like?

"I really don't want to sound like my old man here. Look, kid, Just forget the flying man. Stay closer to the ground in Queens, build up your game helping the little people. You know, like the old lady who bought you that churro." That churro. Happy had told him everything. "Look, Tony—uh, Mr. Stark," I started. --

My suit agreed. "It does seem unwise. Trespassers are prosecuted. Or shot' "It's worse than that—if they find me in here, Mr. Stark is gonna kill me!" I started to panic. I had to get out of here! --

"Okay, sorry, Mr. Stark" I sighed. "I know you said to keep a low profile, but I gotta get out" I started banging on the door.

Tony Stark's words echoed in my head: Keep doing what you're doing, saving the little people.... Except these weren't just the little people"—they were my friends. As long as they were safe, everything would be okay. I didn't need to wait for that call to be an Avenger. I was already Spider-Man.

I just love how they unconsciously treated each other like family.

Peter, just like any other teenager, looks for validation from people he admires. In the Homecoming Novelization Peter congratulates himself every time he does something good and loves it when it comes from Tony for the same reasons I listed before.

Finally, we pulled up a safe distance from the apartment, so we didn’t attract too much attention. We sat in some seriously awkward silence for a moment before Mr. Stark finally said something.“Ya did good, kid,”

“I did good? I did good!“

“It’s yours,” Stark replied. “You earned it.” My heart was going a mile a minute. “Awesome!”

Look at them mirroring each other when it comes to them and how they feel.

Peter’s POV

“Yeah, and pretty soon it’s going to lead to a real job with him,” I said, trying to convince both him and myself.

Something really cute about them is that they both are exactly as you guys picture them in fanfics. They don’t say each other’s first name but think of each other that way.

Peter’s POV

“I thought I was gonna freeze up after Tony yelled out ‘Underoos.”

That churro. Happy had told him everything. "Look, Tony—uh, Mr. Stark," I started.

Tony’s POV

Tony had only continued onto the ship because he felt certain that he'd gotten Peter safely out of harm's way.

"Kid! Where'd you come from?" Iron Man asked, his voice sounding a little too relieved and grateful for his taste.

They refuse to call each other by their names even if in IW they already had a more solid relationship than in HOCO, for them it’s ‘Kid’ and ‘Mr. Stark’. They even have other nicknames, as you already know but one of the cutest nicknames is ‘boss man’. Tom Holland calls RDJ that in real life and they used that nickname in the novelization.

When RDJ said this:

The amount of betrayal Stark has had to deal with and what it's like to try and open up to someone new. The actor points out that Peter is young and that treachery comes with age. That his character is more willing to trust Peter because of his age. And how the relationship was established in the previous film when Tony shuts Peter down after he's been hurt. Not a move Tony would've done with most of the other Avengers, expecting them to push through just as he would.

He’s absolutely right, as you can see, they both banter but at the same time Tony opens up to Peter without hesitation.

trust

"So where are you?" I asked, looking around suspiciously. I half expected to see a drone In the sky spying on me.

"India." came the response. "I thought I'd hit up a Hindu temple. Center myself. That sort of thing."

banter

"Thank God this place has WI-Fi or you would have drowned."

"I had a strategy." I did not have a strategy.

'What, to die and fight him in the afterlife?"

Another example of them mirroring each other is in IW. It's been said in the novels that Tony making Peter an Avenger when did was something he considered a big choice and major sacrifice. He truly didn’t want him on the team, not because he thought Peter wasn’t capable, but because he wasn’t ready for Peter to be that. Meanwhile, Peter, who knows Tony is pretty much capable on his own, said he stuck himself to the side of the ship in IW because he thought about Tony.

The same level of protectiveness, same thoughts.

Like a mirror.

Also how cute are Peter’s thoughts about Liz?

Liz walked by with the rest of the Homecoming committee, and the entire world seemed to melt away around her.

“It’s working for her.” I stared at her outfit and agreed that it was definitely working for her. OUR SPIDEY BOI IS FLIRTY AF

She was thinking of me. The warm fuzzies started.

Liz defending Peter from Flash?:

“I can’t believe we’re catering to him. We don’t need this dork.” Good. There was my opening to break it to them that—“As team captain, I disagree,” Liz cut in.

"No way!" he objected. "You can't just quit on us and then turn around and stroll up here and—" "Flash. Liz cut him off, her voice leaving no doubt as to who the captain was.

Liz smiled at me as I took my seat. Don't blush. Don't blush. I blushed and gave a small smile back as I settled in next to Ned for the trip to Washington, DC.

And Peter’s eternal beef with Betty either sharing Ned or with Spider-Man. I love for this friendship lmao

#irondad #spiderson #tony stark #peter parker #mcu #marvel #tom holland #rdj #endg #infinity war #homecoming

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elwenn-dreaming · 4 years

Text

The Truth

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

For @lbigreyhound13, prompt: Peter and Tony got kidnapped.

This is my first fanfiction ever, so I do hope you enjoy. Also no beta, we die like men, which is to say very undignifiedly. And hopefully without too many grammar mistakes.

A dripping sound. That’s the first thing that came to Peter’s mind. Funny, how his hearing comes to awareness first, when there was so many more important informations to be obtained otherwise. For example, by concentrating on his smell he could have identified that distinctive scent of wet dirt and closed space characteristic of cellars, as well as a faint smell of rain. Touch could have informed him of a clay floor littered with gravels that dug in his back and thighs and of the length of rough rope tied around his wrists and ankles. And his sight would have told him of grey stone walls, of a small barred window underneath the roof wich seemed to be on floor level, and near a gutter judging by the irregular flow of water running down the wall and the aforementioned dripping sound, and of Tony Stark’s prone form on the ground. So really, hearing wasn’t that primordial, thought Peter.

Wait. He froze. Prone form?

‘Mr Stark? Can you hear me?’

Well fuck. Prone he was, and prone he stayed. Still. Unmoving. Unresponsive. You get the idea.

Peter sat up, a task quite complicated by his hands tied behind his back and his fuzzy head. The world swam before his eyes and he had to close his eyes, swallowing to keep back the nausea. He then crawled to the man’s side, letting out a shaky breath at the sight of his chest rising and falling, though slowly, at least regularly. Peter sat himself against the wall and thought.

They were not here voluntarily, and were in fact both tied up. Most likely kidnapped, then. He had been uncounscious, but not for too long, as it was still day outside. He doubted he could have been unconscious until the next day, as their unknown captors had no mean to know he was spiderman, they would not have adjusted the drug dose. Which explained why he was conscious while Mr Stark was not. That was good news, too, it meant said man’s state was not preoccupying. Probably not.

This being said, there was still the matter of getting out of here. On the bright side, their captors didn’t know his secret identity, and that put him at an advantage. On the less bright side, he didn’t think he could go very far while carrying an unconscious Iron Man on the back. Even with his super strength and enhanced healing factor, he would have to wait a bit until the world went back to a reasonably stable state, so breaking out of an unknown place with Mr Stark out cold to carry and potential baddies all around was out of the question. He studied their cell to pass the time. The ceiling was about ten feet high, and the window quite narrow. An adult man would not be able to pass through. A teenager, maybe. The rain bothered him, but he could not place why. Maybe because the humidity was filling the cell and infiltrating into his very bones, chilling the April air, so that he soon began to shiver. Everything was slightly damp. The door. Why had he not thought about the door sooner? Maybe, just maybe, if he was lucky, the kidnappers, not knowing of his super strength, would have made a door weak enough that he could kick it down when they would be ready to leave. He glanced hopefully. Nope, the wooden door looked thick enough, and he couldn’t see any lock, which meant it was probably barred (because what kidnapper would leave an open door, right?) and more importantly, that they couldn’t pick it. He sighed dejectedly.

Peter didn’t know how long he had been sitting there for. It was still day, so it couldn’t have been that long as it should have been at least mid-afternoon when he woke up. It felt longer though. His head had cleared up, so there was that. He heard a groan.

‘Mr Stark? It’s me, Peter, we’re in a cell I think, but it’s not a prison cell don’t worry. Actually it means we’ve been kidnapped so maybe it should worry you more. i’m just rambling, soory. Are you awake?

- No I’m not. Hmph. Head feels all funny.’

Tony wriggled unsuccessfully.

‘I’m tied up. Why am I tied up?

- That might be the kidnapping part.

- Oh. Right.’

Peter promptly filled him in, though it did seem to him that Tony was not yet fully aware of everything. Drugs do that to you.

‘I’m pretty sure I can break that rope, they didn’t take spidey into account. I don’t quite know about going out though.’

He let out a small groan. The rope was no match to his enhanced strength, but the position was not ideal and it dug painfully in the flesh of his wrists. He then quickly undid his and his mentor’s ties.

‘I don’t think we can go far until your dizziness has passed at the very least.

- Dizziness? I’m perfectly fine, let’s get out of here.’

Tony tried to stand up, but he was not half way up that he felt lightheaded, and would have fallen much ungracefully were it not for Peter, steadying him and gently guiding him to sit on the floor next to him.

‘We can wait you know. Nothing’s urgent, laughed Peter.

- Yeah. Yeah of course.’

Tony’s voice was quavering, breath shallow.

‘Mr Stark? Mr Stark, are you okay?’

Cold. The cold was slithering through his flesh, nesting in his bones, hissing in his hears. Or maybe it was just the voices, the pain in his chest, and the water, head in the water, dripping on the walls, and so, so cold.

‘… ay? Do … me?’

Tony became aware of a hand shaking his arm, and the hands were gripping him and forcing him under the water and… No. No. He had to breathe. It was Peter right next to him, he had to put his shit together before he noticed and…

‘I’m fine. Perfectly fine. Just got a little dizzy, you were right. Can still feel the efects of whatever it was they drugged us with. Which is completely unfair, how come you are all fresh as a daisy while I get to feel like someone let a toddler play legos with my bowels?’

Peter stared at him for longer than he would have liked, but eventually seemed to accept it.

‘Right! So, about getting out… no lock to pick and I don’t quite think I could break it open. I mean, I can try, but it’s likely barred, and it’s solid oak.

- No, you’re right, we should try that window instead.

- No offense Mr Stark but I don’t think you could pass through it.

- Are you calling me fat, young man?’

Peter blushed and avoided his eyes. ‘I didn’t... that’s not what I meant, it’s just that...

- Stop, Pete! Just joking! I can’t pass through, but you can. So you climb that wall with those sticky fingers of yours, you get out of here and find help to arrest our new would-be supervillains, and get me out too.

- I’m not leaving you here alone!

- Right, because the both of us freezing to death in here is so much better. That was not a suggestion, Peter.’

The teenager looked ready to object, but gave in to his mentor’s stern gaze. He obligedly climbed to the opening in the wall and put his hands on the windowsill. And stopped dead. He let himself fall to the ground, landing gracefully on his feet and turning towards the older mark.

‘Looks like I won’t be able to pass either. It’s one of those windows that are wide from the inside and getting thinner on the outside. The wall is also much thicker than I expected, at least 3 feet thick.

- The door it is then. Kick it down, kid!’

The teenager then broughed his shoulder to a not-quite-gentle contact with the door, which did not budge one bit. He repeated the action several times, but to no avail, until finally the hard wood started to splinter. He tore down the door as he could, and stopped dead.

‘Kid? What is it?’

Tony scrambled to his feet and walked – well, stumbled would be a more accurate term but not one he would ever admit to – to the door, a liitle pale after the few steps that brought the opening in his line of sight. He resigned himself to lean on Peter’s shoulder, as it was still slightly more dignified than falling on his ass.

‘What. The. Fuck.’

Behind the thick plancks of oak was a brick wall, which, if it did contrast to the old grey stone of the cell, looked like it had been there for quite some time, and was solid enough.

‘Seriously? The window, then that? Who the fuck does that?

- Yeah but, Mr Stark, if the door is not a door and the window is not large enough… How did we get here? A secret door?

- You know what? Probably.’ He laughed. ‘A secret door. I love secret doors. Although putting a false door on top of it is a bit of an overshoot, don’t you think?

- Definitly. No sense of style, said Peter in a very serious tone.

- Better go and find it then. Now, if I were a secret door, where would I go?’

It was only after a long search that they had to admit to the evidence, there was no secret door.

Tony let himself slide down the wall. Although the effects of the drug had past, he still felt uneasy at the thought of being stuck. He looked at his hand in wonder. It was trembling slightly. Now that he thought about it, his whole body was in fact shivering. A rythmic sound was echoing in his ears. Only after a while did he understand that it was his teeth chattering. The cold and damp spring day air seemed to be sucking all the warmth out of him. On the other side of the room was Peter, eyes closed, also sitting against the wall. Only his fingers tapping against his knee betrayed that he was not asleep. He seemed to be unbothered by the cold. Which was really unfair in Tony’s opinion. Cold and damp spring day air. Tony froze, thoughts twirling around his mind like fireflies, too quick for him to grasp but fragments, eventually all coming together to form a picture out the jigsaw puzzle pieces. In front of him Peter suddenly jumped to his feet and all but shouted :

‘Something’s wrong!

- Yeah. The light. We have been searching for at least two hours, and I was awake for maybe an hour before. And you have been awake for even longer.

- At least an hour, maybe two I’d say. And it was around three or four pm that we were taken.

- Which leads us to a bare minimum of seven pm, given that we don’t know how long you’ve been out for. Given your metabolism and the time I spend uncounscious alone, it is unlikely that it be more than two hours. So somewhere between eight and eleven pm.

- And it’s still day.

- Furthermore, it wasn’t raining anywhere around New York. Not in a 200 mile radius.

- And the walls. Where do you even find walls that thick in the US?

- And nobody in their right mind would build that type of window on floor level.’

They shared a long glance.

‘There is no door, they said at the same time.

- We cannot be here. And yet here we are, mused Tony.

- Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.

- I didn’t know you read Sherlock Holmes. But that would mean…

- We are, in fact, not here, said Peter. And there was steel in his voice, an unstoppable result.

- Then where are we? And why do we think we are here?

- I don’t know, a simulation? A magical illusion? Can’t be a drug, we would not hallucinate together. More important, how do we get out of it? Do you have a red pill or something?’

Tony woke with a gasp. He was shirtless, in dimly lit, narrow space. Electrodes were linked to his temples, chest and arms. He tried to shake himslef free of them, but his wrist were bound to the bottom of the sarcophagus-like box he was in. He felt panic rise, trying harder and harder to get himself out of his restraints, but only succeeding in wounding the skin of his wrists. His breaths were shallow and frenetic, and tears began to stream down his face, uncontrollable. He tried to force himself to count, but the numbers were drowned by the voices of long-gone people, and how could he breathe anyway, when there was water around him, and in his nose and his mouth, and there was no air in space, and he was gasping uselessly. He could not move and he watched helplessly as his arc reactor was taken from his chest. The lid was ripped open, and hands were gently removing, and freeing his wrists. He raised them, trying to protect his chest, to push away the hands that were forcing him underwater. To his suprise they retreated immediately, and there was a voice, asking him to breathe, and counting again. His breathing slowed down eventually, and he felt the hands on his back, helping him out of wretched box. He stumbled, and someone was here, catching him, and lowerig gim to sit on the ground.

‘Peter…?

- It’s me Mr Stark. You’re okay. We’re out of it now. We should hurry though. I knocked out the guy that was here, but others might come. Can you stand now?’

Tony felt himself blush in shame. Now was really not the time, and Peter shouldn’t have had to deal with that.

‘I’m good.’

He grabbed the hand Peter lend him nonetheless, and quickly got on his feet.

"Let’s get out of here. And… kid… Thanks.’

Peter looked at him, and then smiled. ‘Let’s kick some baddies’ asses!

- Language!

-I’m gonna do as if you didn’t just say that Mr Stark.’

He ruffled Peter’s hair affectionately. He grabbed the torn door and smiled. It was high time they escaped, they didn’t want to stain their statistics.

#friendly neighborhood exchange #irondad #iron man #peter parker #fanfiction #fanfic #spiderman #spiderson #mcu fic #mcu fanfiction #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #Sorry it's a little bit late #my writing

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roonil-wazlib-at-221b · 4 years

Text

Meddling

Anonymous Request: #8 and #80 for Peter Parker, please?

#8: “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

#80: “Why is that your password?”

It’s a widely known fact at school that Peter Parker is sort of a dork. He doesn’t make the best decisions. He gets caught in the wrong places. He says the wrong things. He says the right things at the wrong time.

It’s a widely known fact in Queens that Spider-man is super cool. He always shows up where he’s needed. He can take out eight men at once without breaking a sweat. He’s got witty retorts ready any second. He’s got crazy powers that make him strong and sticky.

It’s a widely known fact in the Stark tower that Peter Parker is kind of a genius. He can keep up with Tony Stark and is in the workshop with him 90% of the time he’s there. The other 10% of the time Peter spends at the tower is with you.

It is also a widely known fact in the Stark tower that Peter Parker has a crush on Y/N Stark, and that you have a crush on Spider-man.

Tony takes great amusement in the irony of that statement, although sometimes the obtuse way both teenagers skirt around their feelings for each other can be frustrating. Peter is literally the only guy Tony will ever accept for you because he can trust the webslinger would rather die than hurt the feelings of someone he loves.

“Hey, FRIDAY,” Peter greets when he walks into the common area.

“Hello, Peter,” the AI responds.

“Is Y/N here?”

“No,” FRIDAY says. “She does not return from the cabin until Thursday.”

Peter wilts a bit but nods. “Okay.”

See, the reason the ratio of Tony-to-Y/N time is so wonky is because of how much time you spend in the super-secret cabin. Tony insists on it for your protection or something like that.

“I’m still here,” Tony points out, pouring himself a coffee, and smirks when Peter jumps.

“I didn’t know you were there!” the teenager gasps, putting a hand to his heart like he’s in danger of a heart attack.

Tony snorts. “Is your Peter-tingle still not working?”

Taken aback, Peter stares at his mentor for a second before shaking his head. “I have got to stop Aunt May from talking about me to you. And no, I’ve told you this a thousand times; it doesn’t work when I’m around people that aren’t threats to me!”

“Whatever you say, buddy,” Tony shrugs, yawning. “Now, as I’m sure my presence is more than enough a substitute for the presence of my daughter, let’s get to work, why don’t we?”

Peter blushes. “Okay.”

“Speaking of my daughter,” Tony adds, “when are you going to ask her out?”

Peter falls flat on his face.

~~~~

You seriously love having private jets at your disposal; trips are so much more comfortable and quick. Especially private jets that are eco-friendly, because it means you can flaunt your wealth without worrying about people on the internet dragging you.

Nah, you’re just kidding. You don’t flaunt your wealth that much.

Just a little.

“I’m home!” you call when you walk into the quiet common floor of the Avengers tower. All the lights are off. You frown. “Dad?”

Nothing. He must be on a business call. They seem to pop up unexpectedly all the time and you don’t begrudge him for them.

Besides, it’s late. You’ll go to sleep and greet your father in the morning. And hopefully Peter.

You roll your eyes at yourself and check your phone in vain for new messages, but nothing comes through. Not your dad checking to see if the flight landed on time, not Peter sending you a meme, not even Natasha texting you mission details in the rare occurrence you’re allowed to accompany the team.

Nothing. Complete radio silence.

Being a Stark is more isolating than one would think.

You sigh and rub your eyes, excited to go to sleep in your comfortable bed in your soundproofed room.

“FRIDAY?” you try.

“Your father is otherwise engaged, Y/N,” the AI responds. “He sends his regrets. If it is any consolation, I am pleased to see you again. So to speak.”

You smile up at the ceiling. “Thanks, FRI.”

FRIDAY lights up the walk from the common area to your room. You’ve seen enough horror movies to have a faint sense of how creepy it is to only be able to see a few feet in front of you at a time, but you trust the AI. It’s not like anything’s going to happen to you. Besides, even if there is something or someone there, you’ve been trained in enough forms of combat by literally every Avenger so you’re pretty confident you can handle yourself.

You open your door, still contemplating your phone’s screen as if staring at it will make people send you texts, but something crashes in your bathroom and you jump. The door swings shut behind you as you rush to the bathroom.

A trussed-up Spider-man struggles to his feet from where he is in your shower.

Wait. Spider-man in my shower?

You raise a single eyebrow, relaxing and crossing your arms while leaning against the doorframe. “You’ve got thirty seconds to explain to me what you’re doing here.”

“Did you let the door shut?” Spider-man squeals.

You frown, confused. “Uhh...” A quick glance over your shoulder confirms that the door is, in fact, closed. “Yeah.”

The superhero groans. “No!”

“Um, you still haven’t explained a thing, and you’re down twenty seconds,” you prompt, tapping your wrist that doesn’t even bear a watch.

“Long story short, your dad locked me in here,” Spidey groans. “And now that you’ve let the door shut, you’re locked in here with me too.”

You bite your lip. “Uh... why would Dad lock you in my room, Peter?”

“I have no idea,” Spider-man replies, then freezes. “Wait! Who’s Peter? I—I’m not Peter, I don’t even know a Peter!”

You quirk an eyebrow. “Uh-huh.” Spinning on your heel, you tug on your room’s door handle. True to his word, the door doesn’t budge.

“Seriously!” Spidey, hot on your heels, insists. “I really—I’ve never met you before in my life! I mean, I’ve seen you, because you’re famous because you’re Y/N Stark, but you’ve never met me! Or seen me! Or—”

“Peter.” You sigh and put your hands on your hips. “Honestly. Do you remember when my father announced to the world that he was Iron Man?”

“That’s a pivotal moment in history,” Spidey mutters, “so I’m sure that everyone remembers that.”

“Yeah. And did you know that he walked into that press conference with a fully detailed cover story as well as paid actors as witnesses to back up his story?”

“Uh...” Spider-man shifts his weight on his feet back and forth.

“And instead of simply reading off the cards like he was supposed to, he proceeded to announce to the entire world his second identity. So no, my father is not very good at lying or keeping secrets. And, Peter, do you remember that one time I walked in on you and Dad working on one of your suits?”

Spider-man crosses his arms over his chest. His mask reveals nothing of what he’s thinking.

“I made a joke about how cool it would be to meet Spider-man,” you continue, “and you proceeded to stammer on for five minutes about how that would be crazy for me because I’ve totally never met him before. So no. You and my dad are both terrible at keeping secrets and lying.”

You reach for the mask, hesitating for a moment to see if he’ll pull away. When he simply huffs, you tug the mask off, revealing Peter Parker’s flushed cheeks and bouncy curls. You can’t help the butterflies that flutter in your stomach. “You’ve known for months?”

“Months and months.” You grin crookedly at the flustered boy. “But seriously. Why are you locked in my room, Peter?”

“Okay,” the boy says quickly. “I came by today because I knew you were coming back and I thought it would be cool to say hi to you and show you this cool design we’re working on for your suit. We got repulsor rays just like Tony on the palms of your hands as well as the flight stabilizers, but it was tricky because your suit isn’t metal. But we got it eventually! And—”

“Peter,” you interrupt. God knows the boy could speak for hours by constantly going off on tangents.

“Right, right,” he says, biting his lip. He has no idea how attractive you find that action. “So I was here. And Tony thinks, I don’t know, that it would be funny to test the strength of the web formula we’ve been working on. And it’s not going to dissolve for two more hours,” he groans. That explains the weird white substance keeping his hands together. “I could get it apart, but that might rip my suit.”

“Yeah, I was wondering why you were wearing the old suit,” you remark.

“We were trying to blend the Iron Spider suit and my old suit together,” Peter explains. “So I was modeling this suit. But if I rip it now, it could destroy this suit completely, and what if there’s an emergency?”

You glance around your room. There’s a pair of scissors on your desk and, despite knowing it’s a long shot, you try to cut the web fluid holding his hands together. The only thing that happens is the scissors get stuck. Same with the pocketknife you try to use.

When you approach Peter with a stapler, he jerks away. “No! It’s pretty much unbreakable. You’re just going to get more stuff stuck in it!”

You can’t help the giggle that bursts from your lips when you see Spider-man, Queens’ very own superhero, with red cheeks and floppy curls, thwarted by his own weapon with a pair of scissors and a knife sticking out of his shapeless white cuffs.

“Great, now she’s laughing at me,” Peter groans. “Wait, can you do something for me?”

“Sure,” you say, still snickering a bit.

“Tony put my phone on the bed.” He gestures in that direction. “I’ve been hearing it go off. I don’t know if it’s Tony, or Ned, or May, or anyone else. Could you bring it to me?”

You retrieve the phone and hold it out to him. Peter holds up his webbed hands in vain, but it’s no use. No fingers are available to punch in the password.

“Just tell me it,” you sigh when he tries in vain to punch in the password with his nose.

“No!” Peter blushes furiously.

“Dude, May’s gonna be worried about you. Just tell me.” You roll your eyes. “Not that I couldn’t hack in anyway, but it would require FRIDAY and a lot more time and effort than you just telling me your password.”

“FRIDAY?” Peter asks hopefully, staring at the ceiling. Just as you’d suspected; your father either disabled the AI for your room or commanded it to not respond to their of your pleas for escape.

“Seriously,” you groan. “You do realize you can change the password right away, right?”

“It’s embarrassing,” Peter groans, which is absolutely the worst thing to say. You perk up immediately.

“What is it?”

“I’m not telling.” Peter crosses his arms and glares at the wall.

“Is it your old crush’s name? Uh... Michelle or something?”

“I never liked MJ,” Peter snaps. “She’s just my friend.”

You snort. “Uh-huh.” Quick as a flash, you snatch the phone up from where it was sitting on the bed next to his thigh. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”

Peter closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I will not.”

“What’s the worst it could be?” you ask. “I promise I won’t tell Dad.”

“That’s a lie.”

“You got me there. If it’s something about My Little Pony or Dora the Explorer I’d have to tell him right away. You know me too well.”

“It’s not My Little Pony or Dora the Explorer!” Peter exclaims.

“Well, unless you tell me what it really is,” you tease, “I’m going to have to assume it’s one of those two categories. Want me to guess My Little Pony names until your phone locks you out forever?”

Peter groans and flops onto the bed. “I’m never going to live this down.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say primly. “I’d never dream of teasing you, Pete.”

Peter mumbles something.

“What?”

“IsaidmypasswordisY/NParkernospaces” he rushes out.

“What?”

“I said,” Peter gets out through gritted teeth, “my password is Y/NParker, no spaces.”

There’s a long pause of silence and Peter chances opening his eyes to look at your reaction. You’re staring at him evenly, the phone in your lap forgotten. “Why is that your password?”

“Don’t make me say it,” Peter pleads weakly. “I’m never going to be able to live this down anyway.”

“Peter. Why is that your password?”

“Because I like you!” he bursts out, his tone a lot louder than he’d intended it to be. “Duh, Y/N. Like you said, I’m sorta bad at hiding stuff. Even your dad knows. It’s why he locked me in here.”

“What?” You unlock the phone quickly and check the texts. There’s two from May asking why Peter’s not home yet, one from Ned about a homework assignment, and three from Tony.

Tony Stark: You’re going to read this either when those webs dissolve or when Y/N unlocks your phone, which means she’s going to discover your password and your crush on her

Tony Stark: If so, hi, Y/N! Love you! Sorry I couldn’t be there to greet you but I had to play matchmaker for some oblivious teens

Tony Stark: Go get ‘em, tiger ;). You’re not leaving the room until you do. But no funny business!

“This is so embarrassing,” you and Peter groan at the same time. You exchange startled glances.

“What do you have to be embarrassed about?” Peter asks. You show him the screen of his phone.

“My stupid meddling father,” you glower, quite sure that he’s listening to your conversation now.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sighs.

“What are you sorry for?” You frown.

“For telling you how I felt. I know your dad thinks you like me back, but it’s totally fine if you don’t. We can stay friends. Or if you don’t even want to be friends, I guess that’s all right. It’d be awkward because I come to the tower so much to work with your dad but I’m sure we can work something out. Besides, you visit the cabin so much—oomph.”

He grunts with surprise when you lean forward and press your lips against his. For a moment you think he’s going to try to keep talking even while kissing, but then he sighs against your lips and his webbed hands go to your stomach. He groans with frustration. “This sucks,” he groans, breaking the kiss. “I can’t touch you at all. I can’t even feel you through the webs. And—oh my God, I could have stabbed you!” He leaps to his feet, looking at his webbed hands and the weapons sticking out of the mess with horror.

You double over with laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/N!” Peter whines. “You could have been seriously hurt! Your dad woulda killed me! Do you have any idea—”

You stand and, avoiding the weapons, press your lips against his again. It seems to be an effective way to stop the rambling and keep his mind on one track. More or less.

“I bet the door’s unlocked now,” Peter mumbles against your mouth, breaking the kiss again, and you growl with frustration.

“Peter, shut up and kiss me.”

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey

Let me know if you’d like to be added to a taglist!

#peter parker #Peter Benjamin Parker #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #reader insert #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #reader x peter parker #you x peter parker #stark!reader #tony stark #morgan stark

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redstarwriting · 5 years

Text

I Love Her, Mr. Stark

Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Request: “hi! are your requests open? if yes, peter parker x avenger!reader pls? while battling the vulture, reader came in to help him, they defeated him but reader got injured (like stabbed or something) then peter realizes his feelings for her (like he loves her and doesn’t want to lose her) angsty but fluffy pls!!”

Word Count: 2,609

Genre: Fluff | Angst

Warnings: Swearing, bad injury, sad and panicking Peter Parker, Stabbing

A/N: After my brain decided to actually let me do things and make me not feel like a waste of space, I went off. I didn’t expect this one to be this long, but I feel really bad for not uploading anything recently. I feel like an extra long one was necessary. I’m going to try to actually start writing a lot again and not be lame, so yeah, hopefully that works out. I hope you enjoy this one and I just wanna say sorry for taking so long to post again. I feel really bad about it. (P.S. I threw a reference to the Spider-Man PS4 Game since I started to replay it recently, points to you if you know what it is)

───────────────────────────────────

Adrian Toomes recently escaped from prison and was wreaking havoc again. Currently, he and Peter are having an aerial battle around the Freedom Tower. Peter is trying to web him and force him to become stuck to the antenna, but it’s proving to be a little more difficult than he had planned. Luckily for him, he has close friends who happen to be in New York who can help him. This close friend is you. And you show up at the perfect time, considering Peter is dangling from his “talons,” his webs connected to the edge of the Freedom Tower as he uses his superhuman strength to keep from being flown up even higher and then dropped.

“Hey, Itsy, need some help?” Your voice rings in Peter’s ear, and he instantly feels himself be let go as you land a direct “magic” hit on the Vulture. Your powers were similar to Wanda’s, but instead of being based off of the mind stone, your powers were based off of the space stone. Peter always found it crazy interesting, because similar to Wanda, you could control energy and shoot energy blasts basically, but he always called it magic. Seeing blue energy shoot out of his best friend’s hands was high-key classified as straight magic and he didn’t care what anyone else said. Sometimes it bothered you when he bragged about his “best friend’s” magic. But that’s only because of the tiny huge crush you had on the kid. “Wow, so glad NASA could make it to help little old me,” he says, quickly recovering and shooting webs at a caught off guard Vulture, managing to slow him down even more. “Oh please, NASA wishes they had me. So what’s the plan with this guy?”

“Easy. Disorient him enough that I can web him to this here antenna so he can’t move until a police helicopter comes and gets him. Oh, and maybe destroy his wings. That would be pretty useful.” “You got it, Spinderella,” you say, immediately flying up to the Vulture. You push him back with your powers, forcing him closer to the antenna and the top of the building in general. It proves to be a harder feat than you anticipate, mainly because he’s upgraded his armor to be able to withstand superhuman strength and abilities. After all, his suit is made from Chitauri technology. You grit your teeth in frustration, pushing him back with all your might, all the while dodging his attacks of Chitauri blasts coming from mini guns he somehow made into armbands. “Damn, old man really knows how to put up a fight,” you mumble under your breath, blasting him with a handful of cosmic energy. he shoots backwards, getting in just the right range for Peter to web him up, which he immediately starts to do. You quickly begin tearing apart his wings with your powers, but it’s another task that’s more difficult than you’d imagined it would be. Chitauri tech was not easy to pull apart, even with your power. Although it was hard, you were doing it slowly but surely. While he was distracted by his wings being completely destroyed, Peter was busy webbing his weapons and webbing him down. When he was completely webbed down, Peter started to help you immobilize him.

“How did this bird brain even escape from prison again?” you ask, pulling apart his one wing while Peter literally just pulls the other one off of his back. “Did you just call me a bird brain?”

“Yeah, she did just call you a bird brain. And now I’m gonna call the police and you’re gonna go right back to prison. But while you’re still here, how did you upgrade your wings?! Those things were so much stronger than last time did you find more Chitauri tech or-”

“Kid, if you don’t stop talking, I will get Schultz to pummel you.” Peter looks at you with his eyes as wide as they can go, and you laugh. “Calm down there, Spidey, you can take ‘The Shocker’ any day,” you tell him, pushing his shoulder. He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. The police should be up here pretty fast, so what do you say we go grab some food at Mick’s and send a bunch of pictures of burgers to Mr. Stark to annoy him?” You two begin walking away from Vulture towards the edge of the building. “That sounds great, especially that last part. Remember that time he literally blew the window up there because he got mad at us for constantly sending him cheeseburger pictures when he was in a business meeting and then immediately felt bad and paid for everyone’s meals and gave the owner of Mick’s like ten thousand dollars for repairs?”

“Yeah, that was terrifyingly hilarious.” Peter says as you start flying off of the side of the building. You turn to look at him and challenge him to a race when a sharp pain spreads through your abdomen. You look down to see one of the talons from Adrian’s boots has pierced your stomach. You slowly raise your head to look at Peter, who is looking directly at your stomach. You manage to whisper out Peter’s name before shock takes over, and you lose consciousness. This is really bad for you considering you were already hovering in the air. 1,776 feet in the air to be exact. Now? You’re plummeting towards the ground. “(Y/N)!” Peter screams, instantly diving after you. He manages to catch you in midair, swinging to a rooftop as far away from the crowd that gathered under the Freedom Tower. His mask disappears and he starts to panic even more than he already was. “Shit shit shit, (Y/N)? (Y/N) please wake up. (Y/N), wake up… shit please,” he has your head in his lap, and he notices his tears landing on your face. “Fuck, fuck fuck fuck,” he starts swearing, his mask finding it’s way back onto his head. “Shit, Karen? Call Mr. Stark please like right now,” he frantically says. “Okay Peter, calling Tony right now,” Karen responds, and Peter immediately hears the ringing of Tony’s phone. After about two rings he hears Tony’s voice. “Hey, kid. I see you and (Y/N/N) are together and I swear if you two start spamming me with pictures of food I-”

“Mr. Stark! I need help like right now, please- oh my god- I don’t know what to-”

“Woah woah woah, kid, calm down. What happened? Are you okay?” “I”m fine! It’s (Y/N)! She’s hurt, Vulture stabbed her with something a-and now she… she isn’t conscious and I just- please hurry up Mr. Stark, I’m scared! She isn’t waking up!” Peter is full on sobbing at this point and definitely panicking even more than he was before. “Okay, Peter just stay where you are. I’m coming to both of you right now,” Tony tells him, and Peter musters out an ‘okay’ before the phone call ends.

Although Tony got there in around three minutes, it felt like 3 days to Peter. He just kept looking at your pale face and thinking about everything you two have ever done together. It ranged from fighting together, then to pranking all the other avengers, then to just hanging out and playing video games or eating, until he started thinking about the little things you did. Like how your head would fly back when he’d say something funny or how your eyes would light up when you saw your favorite food. Or how you always knew how to make him feel better, whether it was you being physically there to support him or just a quick text telling him that you believe in him. He even starts thinking about the dumb little nicknames you constantly come up with. Then he thinks about what he would do if he actually lost you, and started to freak out even more than he was already. He couldn’t lose you. You were his best friend… or did he feel more than that? The thought of losing you just made his heart shatter into a million pieces. He always knew he loved you and you loved him, but he thought it was a platonic love. But was it? His mind was goin a mile a minute, and he was only pulled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Iron Man himself. “Mr. Stark-”

“Look, I have a lot of questions that you’re going to answer but right now we need to get her to the tower. One of Banner’s friends is in town, she’ll know how to fix this,” With that, Tony picks your unconscious body off the ground and takes off. Peter begins webbing after him, keeping his eye on you the whole time. Well when he can see you through his tears, that is. When you all arrive at the tower, Tony takes you straight to the lab where Helen Cho is. She takes one look at you and immediately goes into doctor mode. “Do you think you can help her?”

“I can, but it will take a while. We don’t have time to talk about it though, give me her and I’ll do what I can,” she responds as Tony lays you down on a makeshift operating table, leaving the room for Helen to do her work. He walks outside to see a very distraught Peter sitting on the edge of the building with his head in his hands. Tony walks over, sitting next to him. “This is all my fault, Mr. Stark,” Peter says in a small voice, fresh tears finding their way down his cheeks. “No, kid. Shit happens. I just would like to know what exactly this shit that happened was,” Tony says, glancing over to him. Peter manages to tell him the whole story of what happened through tears, how you two defeated… well thought you defeated Vulture. But he upgraded his suit, and his talons could be shot out at things if he was ever in a dire situation. “I should’ve webbed down his legs, but I was too focused on his wings. I thought he wouldn’t be able to do anything if his wings were down and I was completely wrong and now (Y/N)’s hurt and she might die and it’s all my fault and I’m the worst hero ever and-”

“Peter. Mistakes happen. She’s going to be okay, Helen Cho is very gifted. I know you’re worried because she’s your friend but-”

“I love her,” Peter blurts out, and Tony raises an eyebrow at him. “I… I really love her, Mr. Stark. I can’t lose her,” he says, his voice breaking signifying a new wave of sobs rushing over his body. Tony puts his hand on Peter’s back, trying to comfort him. “It’ll be okay, kid,” Tony tries to stay positive, but he’s definitely worried. He’s never seen Peter like this, and he honestly hates seeing him this broken down. “It’s probably going to take a while for Dr. Cho to fix her up. Why don’t you come inside and try to get some sleep? After all of this you have to be exhausted. Not only did you finish fighting a bad guy an hour ago, but you also had school today and probably just cried your body weight and mine. I think going to bed early would be a good idea,” Tony suggests. Peter only nods, but stands up, walking inside the tower. Tony goes after him and watches as Peter walks to the couch in the living room area, promptly plopping himself down onto it and curling into a ball. Tony goes and gets him a blanket and a pillow, draping the blanket over him and wiggling the pillow under his head. “Get some sleep, Peter. I’m sure when you wake up she’ll be okay.”

Peter hears Tony walk away, but he doesn’t say anything or move. He just stares at the back of the couch, curled up under a blanket in his spider suit as silent tears escape his eyes and millions of thoughts running through his head. This is the exact position he falls asleep in, waking up the next day at around nine in the morning. He’s confused as to where he is for a moment, but then he remembers what happened yesterday, and he immediately feels his stomach start to twist in knots. He throws the blanket off of him, standing up to see Steve sitting in a chair, reading the news. He glances up, his eyes landing on a very disheveled Peter Parker, but Tony let all of the Avengers know what happened. They all were kept updated on the situation, and around two hours ago, Helen finished the procedure on you and you were recovering. “Hey, Queens. I’d go to the lab if I were you.”

Peter began making his way there without hesitation. The minute he walked in he saw you lying there, still sleeping. Tony was standing next to you, and he looked up when he heard Peter walk in the room. “Hey, kid. So good news, she’s okay. She’s going to be okay, Dr. Cho literally saved her life, and she’s just recovering right now.” Those words made Peter feel relieved immediately, and he basically tackles Tony in a hug, which Tony actually returns. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Dr. Cho. I mean, thank her when she’s awake. She worked on (Y/N) for ten hours straight. She’s getting some well-deserved rest.”

After Peter breaks away from the hug, Tony pats his shoulder before walking out of the room. Peter walks over to where you’re laying, and he takes a deep breath. You’re still asleep, so he just pulls a chair up next to you, sitting down in it. He grabs your hand, grazing over it with his thumb before sighing. He knows you’re asleep, but he really just needs to apologize for everything. And to tell you how he really feels. Especially since you’re asleep. That way he won’t embarrass himself. “I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I should have seen that coming… I was so scared. Like, it felt like I was watching Uncle Ben all over again and I… just the thought of losing you hurts. I can’t deal with that. The idea of waking up one day without a text from you calling me ‘Spider Face’ or ‘Daddy Long Legs’ or some other demented nickname you can think up in that weird brain of yours just… it sucks. I don’t want that to ever happen. I need you, (Y/N). I really do. I never realized it before, but I really do love you. And not in a platonic way. Definitely not in a platonic way.”

“Took you long enough.” He freezes when he hears your whispery, weak voice. “You’re awake?!” You laugh at his horrified expression due to his confession that he thought you didn’t hear. “Don’t look so scared, Aragog. I feel the same way about you.” “…You do?”

“Yes, dummy. Of course, I do.”

“Oh… well in that case, when you get better, how about we make that Mick’s run I mentioned yesterday a date…? Maybe…?” You smile at his sheepish expression, weakly nodding your head. “I’d like that.” From that moment on, Peter was far more protective of you not only in fights, but just in general. He almost lost you once, and now he was determined to never even let you get a scratch on your body. He loved you far too much for that.

#peter parker x reader #spider-man x reader #spider man x reader #spiderman x reader #avengers x reader #peter parker imagine #spider-man imagine #spider man imagine #spiderman imagine #avengers imagine #avengers reader #peter parker #spider-man #spider man #spiderman #avengers

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hailing-stars · 4 years

Text

I wrote this fic almost a year ago, one of my first irondad one-shots and my writing has improved so much lmao, but I didn’t have a tumblr back then, so I thought it was worth posting here. also May dates doc ock which happens in the comics but was still uncomfortable to write lol

summary - something nefarious

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

Peter gets beat up by May's new boyfriend, because May's new boyfriend is Doc Ock and Peter is nosey.

Tony just wants to work on a car with his Spidey son and send him to college in one piece.

read on ao3 or after the undercut

Peter stared at the car parts scattered across the floor. He tried to remember enough to start assembling, or to at least make a little bit of progress before Mr. Stark looked away from whatever he was working on and saw no changes were made. It was useless. He couldn’t concentrate. Not on that. Not during that particular moment.

His thoughts belonged elsewhere, anywhere else, actually, but mostly not there. On the car. Completing the car meant completing a lie, or more importantly, led Peter closer to the moment he’d have to confess to Mr. Stark that he wouldn’t be attending MIT in the fall and therefore wouldn’t need this particular graduation present.

Peter had trouble deciding what would upset Mr. Stark more, his choice of school or that attending NYU rendered his gift useless.

“Every college man needs a car,” he had told him, then proceeded to try and rush off to get him a brand-new Audi. Peter’s lucky to have both May and Pepper. They were there to force him into a compromise

.May picked out some rundown car at a junk lot, and Mr. Stark would help him fix it up.

This compromise meant every Saturday that summer belonged to the workshop. He didn’t mind that part. Spending time with Mr. Stark was one of his favorite things to do. Especially there, in the workshop, where new Iron Man suits were born. If Peter were really going away to Massachusetts for school next fall, which he definitely wasn’t, he would miss him, almost as much as May.

The thought crossed his mind that he might end up missing Mr. Stark after all. Peter isn’t completely above pretending to be at MIT while he really hung around New York. It sounded a lot better and like a lot less drama than giving him the bad news.

“You were right,” said Mr. Stark. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stood over where Peter worked, or pretended to work, on the floor. “Clearly you don’t need my help.”

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

“Oh shit,” he said, and struggled to get to his feet. He sprinted to the other side of the workshop, grabbed his bookbag from the floor, then sprinted back to Mr. Stark. “I’m going to be late. I’m supposed to be meeting him tonight.”

He waited for the blow to come. A sarcastic comment. An ill-received joke. Peter prepared to defend himself for hating the man without ever meeting him, but the blow never came. This is something that, maybe, Mr. Stark understood, too. Peter didn’t need a reason to dislike any of May’s boyfriends, although he felt like he had plenty from overheard bits of conversations on the phone.

His name was reason enough. Doctor Otto.

Peter looked up once he adjusted the strap of his bookbag, and followed Mr. Stark’s gaze over to the car, if it could even be called a car at that point, sitting in the middle of the room.

“At this rate it’s never gonna be finished by fall.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “I’ll come back tomorrow?”

“Nope, tomorrow I’m spending the day with Pepper,” he said, then pointed at him. “Next Saturday I’m helping you, and cut it out with the Mr. Stark, alright? I told you. It’s Tony. You’re an adult now. Use your big boy words.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was almost out the door when he heard Mr. Stark grumble, “Smartass.”

He was, as predicted, late for dinner. He opened the apartment door to one of the most traumatizing sights he’d ever seen in his eighteen years of life. May and Doctor Otto were standing uncomfortably close, but worse of all, they were breaking apart, as if they’d been closer, as if they’d been kissing.

His eyes settled over the man, but Peter’s feet stayed planted in the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Doctor Otto was tall, with dark hair and fit. His button up shirt stuck too close to his skin, but that wasn’t the most unsettling observation Peter made that night. It was the look in his eyes. Possibly, it was the same look Peter gave him as he sized him up, as the both of them were making up their minds about each other there in his aunt’s apartment.

The apartment they used to share with his uncle Ben.

“You must be Peter,” said Otto. He broke out of the kitchen and started across the apartment towards him.

“Obviously.”

Otto looked taken back for a half-second, then quickly recovered and pretended he hadn’t heard the tone. Behind him, May glared and mouthed at him to be nice.

“I’m Otto,” he said. His grip was loose and flimsy, like a fish out of water or a man who’s trying too hard to pretend to be unassuming. Peter knew better than to fall for that. “May told me so much about you.”

“Really?” said Peter. “I haven’t heard very much about you at all actually…”

“Peter,” said May, marching across the kitchen and joining them in the foyer. She stood by Otto, on his side, and hooked her arm through his. “He’s joking.” She looked at Peter. “You’re joking, but the joke’s over now.”

The couple walked back into the kitchen, arms still linked, and Peter swallowed misplaced stomach acid. His feet felt like dead weights as he followed them to the kitchen table. He didn’t know how he would make it through dinner without puking, but he should at least try it. He should at least try to be polite even if Otto made his skin crawl and his stomach turn, just so May wouldn’t kill him once he left. If he ever left.

He looked so comfortable on May’s side of the dinner table, where Ben used to sit, Peter wasn’t so sure they would ever get rid of him.

He stayed polite by keeping his responses as short as possible. He nodded when he could, he forced himself to smile, and occasionally, would make a noise that implied he was paying attention and actually, he was. Otto went on and on about his research with radioactive substances, maybe trying to impress him, but after spending so much time with Mr. Stark, it was hard to be impressed by someone so mediocre.

“I’ve heard you’re pretty into science yourself,” said Otto. There was a stray lasagna noodle hanging on his chin, and Peter had a hard time looking anywhere else. “I’ll have to get your opinion on my work sometime.”

“Oh,” said Peter. He looked down at his plate and pushed a few noodles around with his fork. “I doubt I would have the time for that. I intern for Mr. Stark, and he keeps me pretty busy.”

May narrowed her eyes at Peter, who stared right back. Otto was her boyfriend. It didn’t mean he was obligated to spend time with him.

“I’m sure he does,” said Otto, and Peter smiled for the first time since coming home, enjoying the bit of jealousy laced into his voice.

That night, Peter laid in bed and stared at his ceiling. The more his brain turned and turned and turned with all that talking about radioactive substances, about wanting to work with them, about AIs that would allow him to do it, the more it didn’t sound right. AIs were dangerous in the wrong hands. Peter didn’t think they should be trusted in the same hands that had trouble keeping food on his plate or in his mouth.

He didn’t sleep until he resolved to start an investigation, and to not give it up until he found something so incriminating May would break up with him.

Peter had a simple plan.

He set his alarm early, at least for an otherwise lazy Sunday morning, and stayed in his room. He pretended to be asleep until he heard the shower water running. He slipped out of bed and made his footsteps light as he crept into May’s bedroom. Her phone sat on the nightstand, and once in his hands, it was an easy hack. Something so simple and learned so easily by spending enough time around Mr. Stark, who was quick to teach Peter anything he wanted to know. He scrolled with his thumb until he found Otto’s contact information, grinning when he finally came across what he’d been looking for, an address.

He sent it to his phone, wiped the message history and returned it to its original position on the nightstand.

By the time May came out of the bathroom, Peter sat at the kitchen table, watching YouTube videos on his phone and eating a bowl of cereal. The empty box laid sideways on the table.

“Good morning, May,” he said, as she walked past him.

She headed to the coffee pot, or at least she had started in that direction. She backtracked several steps to stand in the kitchen entryway, observing him with her hands on her hips, until Peter was forced to acknowledge her.

“No.”

“No to what?”

“To whatever you’re up to,” she said. “I know that look, and I know what it means.”

“But I’m not even doing anything.”

“Does what you’re not doing have anything to do with Otto, by any chance?” she asked. Peter blinked at her, and she pulled on her we’re-about-to-have-a-serious-discussion face while she pulled out the chair next to him. “Did you know all those nights you spend going off, having your little Avengers missions, I sit here in this kitchen, by myself, worrying to death about you? Every single time. It never gets less scary, but it always ends the same way. Do you know how?”

“Umm…” said Peter. He had a feeling he knew, but he felt like answering would be walking into a trap.

“With you coming through that door complaining,” she said. “Mr. Stark is so over-protective. He’s paranoid! He won’t let me anything –“

“-My voice isn’t that high.”

“The point,” said May. “Is that you are doing the same thing, with me, now.”

Peter dropped his spoon, and looked at her, really looked at her. She made a good point. He hated that, because this situation was clearly different. Relationships were definitely more dangerous than his missions with the Avengers.

“I miss Ben too, but I have to start dating again sometime, you know?”

“I know,” said Peter. “Does it have to be this guy, though?”

May rolled her eyes, stood up and headed to her beloved coffee pot. “Give him a chance, Peter.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Peter would give him a chance, just as soon as he investigated and only if he couldn’t find anything on him. He hoped he would. His aunt deserved someone better than the idiot who talked only about himself all evening with a noodle hanging off his chin.

His investigation started later on that same day.

Peter sat cross-legged on the top of Otto’s apartment building while he ate his dinner, a slightly cold sandwich from Delmar’s. He picked it up on the way over, with the intention of being able to eat it when he got home, but this stake-out was taking longer than he expected. It only served to prove Peter’s suspicions. Otto was up to something nefarious. Obviously. There was no other reason for him to be away from his apartment all day long when he told May he was spending the day grocery shopping and doing laundry.

He waited hours on that rooftop, watching the city below him and listening to all its sounds, only to finally tire out and head back home empty handed. Without any evidence. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he expected to find there, anyway.

Peter crawled through his bedroom window, then heard it. He ditched his suit for regular clothes and discovered the reason Otto hadn’t returned home to his apartment. He was here. On the couch with May. Watching a movie with his arm around her.

“Oh hey, Peter,” said May. She paused the movie, and both pairs of eyes stared him down. “I didn’t know you were home. Do you want to watch this with us?”

“He probably doesn’t have the time,” said Otto. It was lighthearted, but it grated at Peter’s nerves.

He dismissed himself. Politely. He could foreign politeness just as well as Otto could pretend to be meek.

Peter paced in his room. Back and forth, back and forth, thinking fast and frantic. He stopped when his thoughts did, when his he lifted his head from staring at the floor and his eyes fell over to his desk drawer. A new idea, like a spark, sent him barreling to his knees in front of the drawer. He yanked it open and searched through it, pulling out papers and graded homework from years before as it did.

But it was useless. They were all gone. A tracker would have been perfect, would have done his job for him, but they weren’t anymore left. Not in his drawer, or in his suit.

There was one more option but asking Mr. Stark for more trackers invited his questions. He collapsed on his bed, realizing he didn’t have much of a choice, and put his scheme against Otto off until Saturday.

It rolled around fast, and Mr. Stark hadn’t been kidding when he told him he’d be helping him this time around. Within five minutes of his arrival at the workshop, the two of them were side-by-side, shoulders nearly touching, face-up underneath the frame of the car. He passed him tools, explained to him what did what, and what to screw and where. It was almost like having a dad again, and it pushed Otto and the tracker to the very back of his brain.

He just wanted to enjoy the moment.

But when there wasn’t May and her boyfriend to worry about, his mind reverted back to worrying over the moment he confessed to Mr. Stark MIT wasn’t happening.

Thinking about not going ached like regret. He wasn’t just disappointing Mr. Stark, but himself. As fall got closer and closer, he realized more and more MIT was the perfect place for him. He didn’t understand how Mr. Stark knew that long before Peter, but none of it mattered. It didn’t change anything. He still couldn’t go.

He already declined the offer, and there were two very good reasons that went into that decision. The first was Queens. His city still needed Spider-Man. The second was more important. He couldn’t leave May. Who else would investigate and stalk her boyfriends, or eat Thai food on the couch while watching trash reality TV?

A nudge on his shoulder broke him out of his thoughts.

“Let’s take a break,” said Mr. Stark. They both scooted out from under the car and sat up. Mr. Stark threw a rag at him. Peter used it immediately, wiping off the black smudges he felt on his cheeks, then his hands. “How’s the situation with May and the new boyfriend?”

“His name is Otto,” said Peter. “He’s a tool.”

“Otto, huh? No wonder why you don’t like him,” Mr. Stark stood and walked over to a stool where his phone sat, leaving Peter to sit on the floor, using his hands as props to support the rest of his body.

Peter stared at the back of Mr. Stark’s head while he strolled through his phone. He figured it was now or never. To ask about those trackers, not for the college confession. He still had a couple of weeks until he would need to disclose that information, and he planned to procrastinate as long as possible. He found his voice, though it wavered when his request was said out loud, causing Mr. Stark to turn around and look away from the phone in his hand.

“Why? What for?”

“To track… someone,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark tilted his head at him. Forget being trapped under buildings. He was eighteen years old and one look from him turned him back into a guilty first-grader. It ruled out the possible scheme of pretending to be in Massachusetts in the fall. He’d never be able to pull that off.

“I got that,” he said. “Who?”

“No one important.”

He made a face like he didn’t believe him but walked away and returned with a handful of the tiny trackers despite his unanswered questions. He passed them to Peter, who had to stand to collect them. He shoved them in the smallest pocket of his bookbag.

“So, what is it this time?” he asked. “Man who thinks he’s a bird? Another lizard guy?”

“Nothing that like.”

He made the same face. It was every bit pinched as it was disbelieving, as if there were questions beating down a wall in his mind. Old Mr. Stark didn’t have that wall. He wouldn’t sat him down and demanded to know exactly what the trackers were used for. New Mr. Stark, who was inspired either by Pepper or a therapist, maybe both, let it go. He asked questions. He pried, but he didn’t stop him from making his own mistakes.

Sometimes Peter missed the old version. He felt less guilty about lying to helicopter Mr. Stark.

“If you’re ever in over your head,” he said. He twirled a screw-driver in his hand. “I’m just a phone call away.”

Peter looked at him, really looked at him and saw the scruff, dirt and grime instead of the billionaire wearing a suit and sunglasses. It was the workshop effect. Everything became a little more real, a little more transparent under the grease and dust, and under the dim lighting, Mr. Stark was just someone who worried too much about the people he loved.

And also, someone who was getting better and better at heaping on the guilt without even trying to do it.

The golden opportunity to put a tracker on Otto presented itself later on that same evening. Him and May were close on the couch, in their usual positions, as Peter stomped through the living room, still covered in the grease and dust of the workshop and swallowing another bout of stomach acid. They didn’t notice him, so he didn’t even try to be discrete when he slipped a tracker inside the seams of Otto’s coat.

He shouldn’t have left it out in the open like that. Just hanging on a kitchen chair.

After that, all he needed to do was wait, and he didn’t even have to do that for very long.

Otto excused himself from their movie night unusually early. As soon as Peter heard the apartment door shut, he pulled his mask on and watched the blue dot which represented Otto move across the map. It didn’t go to the dodgy apartment building where he lived. It went to the labs where he worked. Awfully late to be going to work. Unless that was his angle. To access the lab when the rest of the employees weren’t around and couldn’t see what he was doing.

Only one way to find out.

He suited up and followed the beacon to the labs. He was done pretending to be polite, so slamming through one of the windows and shattering glass everywhere as he tumbled into the building didn’t seem like an imposition. No alarm sounded, either, which was an added bonus.

The last thing he needed was for him to be tipped off about Spider-Man’s arrival.

He followed faint noises to find Otto, and when he got to the room he was in, he crawled up the wall and stuck to the ceiling, watching upside down as Otto maneuvered around the lab, unaware of his presence. Nothing seemed special. Nothing seemed to catch Peter’s eyes, until Otto walked over to a place in the lab he wouldn’t have known to look if he hadn’t gone over there.

He strapped himself into a harness, and from that harness, gained four new arms. Mechanical ones, with claws at the ends of them, and they were snapping. It concerned Peter that all four of them were extending upward, in his direction, but in retrospect it probably should’ve concerned him a little bit more. It just took one sudden movement, one metal tentacle shooting up fast and abrupt inches from where Peter hung to send him somersaulting to the ground.

He stuck the landing with his shoulders stuck out for balance, and looked up, looked into the eyes of Otto Octavius and saw the same something nefarious he saw the first time he met him. Granted, it was hard to take seriously with four mechanical claws floating around and snapping at him.

“What are you supposed to be?” asked Peter. Maybe Mr. Stark wasn’t too far off with his guesses that had to do with animals. “An octopus?”

“Glad you could finally find the time to join me, Peter.”

“Wait, what –“

“You’re really not that great at keeping secrets,” said Otto. His eyes drifted off to the equipment to his left, then back to Peter. “So, I’m sure you’ll understand this isn’t personal. I just can’t have you running off and telling Iron Man about all this.”

It was over before it started. While Peter was busy looking at all the things Otto didn’t want to Mr. Stark to find out about. He didn’t know what they were, or what they did, or why it would mean trouble for him if Iron Man discovered it, but that didn’t stop him from attacking.

Fast and abrupt just like the first time. He managed to dodge the first, but the second caught him in his belly and swatted him against the wall. He crashed to the floor, awkward and ungraceful, and thanks to his upgraded hearing, could hear the bone in his leg snapping before he even felt it. But the pain did come and distracted him from the third metal arm that lifted him up and pinned him against the wall.

It was Otto’s real hands that punched him, hit him hard in the stomach, on the face, but all Peter felt was the pain in his leg. He kept his focus there when the punching stopped, when Otto’s hands came up around his neck and cut off his air supply.

He was about to get killed by a man who couldn’t eat without getting food on his face.

That’s when he heard it. The gloriously familiar sound Iron Man made when he hovered, followed by his voice.

“Get your grubby tentacles off my kid, kraken.”

Peter was dropped to the floor, on his pitifully broken leg, but he felt better than fine. For all the aches and pains, even the stabbing one in his leg, he knew this was a fight that wouldn’t last long, either. There was no stomach acid as he watched Otto attempt to smack Iron Man around with those ridiculous metal arms. Mr. Stark wasn’t distracted, was ready for it and simply blasted him away with his repulsor beam. He flew across the room, crashed into the wall the same way Peter had and thudded to the floor.

Mr. Stark wasn’t done, though, even if Otto was no longer in any condition to fight. He didn’t stop until every single one of the metal arms were disbanded, snapped in half or otherwise disposed, and it isn’t until Otto is knocked unconscious that Mr. Stark lands next to Peter.

“Mr. Ssstark –“ said Peter. “I - I didn’t call.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just lucky you weren’t the only one tracking someone tonight, kid,” he said. He kneeled down next to him. “What’s the damage?”

“Leg’s broken.”

He felt the pain then, all at once, as if saying it out loud made it present. He gasped, and Mr. Stark winced. He turned his head, leveled another glare at Otto, and for a second, Peter thought he might go back over there, kick him while he’s down and unconscious, but the moment passed. Mr. Stark wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder’s, and very carefully, put his other arm under his legs, eventually scooping him off the ground.

Any energy he usually would have spent protesting being carried is focused towards the pain radiating throughout his body. He shut his eyes and hoped to pass out while they went soaring into the night’s sky.

They put him on painkillers.

Mr. Stark’s medical team were quick about that one, and the drugs were fast. They were both speedy and strong. He didn’t remember much about the process of having his leg set and casted, but he did remember voices murmuring up above him. He couldn’t quite hold on to them, but they were talking, amazed, about his healing abilities. It would take just a couple of days for his leg to be back to normal, and less than that for the bruises to disappear.

Until then, however, he was laid up on Mr. Stark’s couch. His leg was propped up, in a blue cast and there were lots of pillows supporting his back, so he could sit up without effort. Everything came back into focus. The blurriness in his head cleared up as the pain started to trickle back in. Then he remembered.

He had just one concern.

“I need to call May,” said Peter, and to his shock, a voice answered back.

“Already done.”

He slowly, carefully, turned his head and saw Mr. Stark in the recliner, staring at him.

“Don’t worry,” he told him. “I broke the news to her about the octopus, too.”

“Is he –“

“-He’s alive,” said Mr. Stark. “Uh, he just won’t be doing very much for a while, and he definitely won’t be calling your aunt back.”

Relief flooded through muscles that should’ve ached. Mission accomplished, but it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. It sort of sucked, actually. That May started dating again just to get stuck with Otto. That her happiness got delayed again. It only served to reinforce his already made-up about staying in the city for school.

He looked at Mr. Stark. It was the perfect time for the truth about college. While he was drugged out and the consequences didn’t seem as bad, and while he was bruised and broken to the point Mr. Stark would feel guilty if he started to yell.

“I have to tell you something,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark looked up from his phone and didn’t miss a beat. “I already know you think you’re not going to MIT, Peter.”

Maybe it was still the drugs, but he didn’t quite catch what was said, or at least the implication behind what was said.

“W-what?”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “And I knew you would end up getting cold feet, so I paid someone at the admissions office to keep an eye out for your acceptance status. When you declined, idiot move by the way, I just had the evidence destroyed and sent in the deposit for your first semester instead.”

It was said so simply. As if it were completely normal behavior to employ spies at a university, and as if semesters at MIT were cheap. This was helicopter Mr. Stark. He never really left. He just tried to change during the moments that really mattered, or the ones that didn’t. Peter couldn’t figure out which way it went, but either way, he felt the only appropriate reaction was anger. Only as much anger as the medication would allow, though.

He still felt pretty fuzzy.

“…you can’t just do that,” said Peter. “You can’t just accept on my behalf and force me to go.”

“Sure I can, I already did.” said Mr. Stark. He leaned back in the recliner. “Tell me that you really don’t want to go. Convince me, and I’ll pull my deposit and put it towards a school closer to home.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He, apparently, wasn’t capable of lying even without the drugs, so he didn’t see a point in trying. All that was left was the truth.

“I can’t leave May, or Queens.”

“Your aunt is more than capable of protecting herself,” said Mr. Stark. “And you know she wouldn’t want you to sit out of college her behalf. She would never forgive herself, and besides, I’ll still be here.”

“Spider-Man –“

“-will take a break.”

Peter didn’t attempt anymore arguments. There wasn’t any Mr. Stark wouldn’t easily counter, and there wasn’t any energy left in him to try it. He was going to MIT in the fall. It was inevitable now, and different, because he could blame Mr. Stark for it every time he felt like it was selfish. It was a better gift than paying his tuition, really. That he could go to the college he wanted and push all the guilt on Mr. Stark for manipulating the situation.

He’d still feel bad about leaving Aunt May, of course, but he figured Mr. Stark was right. She would feel bad if he didn’t go, and he’d end up feeling terrible either way.

The conversation was officially over, so Mr. Stark provided him with more painkillers, a cold-pack for his swelling eyes, a glass of water and a demand for him to get some rest. The pills made him sleep, and when he woke up, he felt better. Still hurt, but better than the night before. Well enough even to get up and try to move around on the crutches.

He found Mr. Stark in the workshop and stopped, sudden and shocked, at the shiny car sitting in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter. He leaned on the crutches, putting his full weight there instead of his good leg. “How long was I asleep?”

“Just the night,” said Mr. Stark. “And half the day. Why?”

“What is that?”

“Your car,” he said. “Don’t you recognize it?”

“No. This… this can’t be the same car.”

The car they’d be working on was rusty and falling apart despite all their effort. This one looked new and fast.

“Maybe I put some custom parts in it,” he said. There were a few seconds of silence. “Maybe I put a lot of custom parts in it.”

“May’s going to flip.”

“She’s not going to be thrilled about those bruises, either, genius, but I figured it’ll be better if we get it over with all at the same time.”

Peter nodded, and Mr. Stark was correct. She wasn’t thrilled with his broken leg, or his black-eyes and bruises. He had returned to the couch in the penthouse living room when she arrived. She sat next to him, looking him over, and apologized.

“I should’ve known,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

Hearing her apologize hurt worse than any of his injuries. This one was Peter’s fault. Otto turned out to be crazy only by chance. He only stumbled into some scheme he didn’t even understand, and next time, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. That eventually May would date someone normal, who wasn’t Ben, and he’d have to accept that, from miles away in Massachusetts.

Thanks to Mr. Stark’s meddling he didn’t have much time left in Queens. Just a few weeks.

“I’m sorry too,” said Peter. “I promise I won’t go all Mr. Stark on you next time you date someone… unless there really is –“

May narrowed her eyes.

“I promise I won’t stalk your next boyfriend.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” said May. She looked around the big, empty living room. “Where’s Tony? He said he had something to show me…”

Peter happily directed her to the workshop, happy for once someone else was in trouble and not him. That he had nothing to do with the under authorized upgrades on his graduation present. He watched her disappeared into the elevator, preferring the couch over front seats to seeing May berate Mr. Stark about the car. He needed the rest to heal, and anyway, he was pretty sure he’d be able to hear the shouting that he knew was coming.

#irondad #my fic #irondad fic #Peter parker #Tony stark #whump #Peter Parker whump #Peter vs may's boyfriend #retro post

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itsybitsyspiderling · 4 years

Text

don’t touch my stuff

find it here on ao3 !

Summary: Peter decides to take an old Iron Man suit out for a spin. Naturally, Tony finds out.

Words Count: 2.8k

“Mister Stark?” Peter calls, walking into––what seems to be––an empty workshop. He’s light on his feet, careful not to make too much noise while the older man recovers from a nasty cold that has riddled him useless. So far, he’s been out for three days and counting. A lousy three days.

Oddly enough, Peter’s been going out of his way just to contract the damn thing. His textbook immune system makes it impossible to miss a single day of school, and he’s tired. He just wants to sleep on the couch and eat nothing but toast while he watches Cartoon Network for several hours. Sure, he knows he could lie and pretend he has a sore tummy, but his unrelenting guilt would eat him up within the first hour. He would easily come clean before May could leave the house.

The workshop is a perfect reflection of how his mentor handles having an illness. A coffee stain the size of New York sits idle on his desk, and half-used boxes of tissues are littered across the room. DUM-E is currently in the process of cleaning up the discarded, crumpled-up tissues that have been there since the first wretched day.

One thing Peter wouldn’t have guessed about Tony is that he’s a complainer when he’s sick. Peter doesn’t understand why he––a sixteen-year-old with bigger problems like homework and acne––is left to take care of him. The man can’t go twenty minutes without groaning and moaning about his stuffed sinuses. Peter can’t stand it.

“Hello, Peter,” FRIDAY greets. “Boss is upstairs sleeping. Would you like me to alert him that you’ve arrived? I’ll be careful not to wake him too abruptly. We both know how he gets.”

Peter laughs and fidgets with a few stray tools on a nearby workbench. A lot of their old work has been left untouched since they last got together. Since they were both healthy and able to talk like normal people. Now, Tony’s been hopped up on NyQuil for three days straight.

“Um––nah, I’ll just hang out here for a while,” Peter says and smiles over at DUM-E. The robotic arm whirs back gleefully. “What’s his temp today, Fri?”

“99.8 degrees Fahrenheit,” she answers.

“Oh, good.” Peter crosses the room. “That just means he can finally get off his ass soon and help me for once.

“He’ll probably still be congested for about another week or two.”

Peter groans, head falling back as he trudges the floor. “I don’t think I can last another day,” he says. “Please don’t tell him I said this––it’s gonna sound really mean––but, God, he’s such a baby. I used to think I was bad when I got sick.”

“Believe me, Peter, no one can be as bad as him,” the AI affirms.

Peter settles down at Tony’s desk and shuffles through the stray papers on top. Letters, fan art, more letters, more fan art… Peter pouts. He wishes he could get fan art.

“He’d just tell me to suck it up, probably,” he mumbles, brain still on the topic of his mentor’s ailments. “I’d have t’suck it up and 'spidey up'––as he calls it, and then I’d pass out on the job, and he’d be all ‘Why are you on the floor? Why didn’t you just tell me you were sick, Peter?’ and ‘Why didn’t you stay home and have your lovely aunt make you a nice pot of soup?’ And then I’d be forced into saying that he told me so, when really, he didn’t. Like, at all.”

“Sounds like something he would do.”

Peter’s lips quirk into a small smile. He likes FRIDAY––he likes her sassy moments, and as much as he loves Karen, sometimes he needs that shift back down to earth. He also needs someone else that will poke fun at Tony when everyone else is afraid to.

“It is something he would do,” says Peter. “I twisted my ankle once, and he was like, ‘Well, that’s dumb, why would you do that?’—like I had a choice in the matter. Sometimes he just really—”

Before Peter can finish his thought, one of the monitors above Tony’s desk flashes. The word “Complete” blinks in bright green.

“Complete?” Peter sits forward. “What did I complete? Did I win something? I didn’t touch anything, did I?”

“You didn’t,” says FRIDAY. “The Mark Forty-Five has just received a new paint job.”

“Oh, cool.” Peter nods and, a beat later, states, “wait, but he doesn’t use that one anymore.”

“Boss likes to maintain a certain… look.”

Peter’s brows knot together as he thinks. Long and hard. And what he eventually thinks up turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. A good terrible idea. “Interesting. Is—is that suit here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think Mister Stark would notice if I took it out for a little spin?”

“I don’t even think the Boss can touch his toes," the AI replies. There’s hardly an inflection in her tone.

Peter hums. A familiar excitement bubbles in his chest. Sure, he’s thought about asking to wear the suit a million and one different times, but the idea of doing without Tony even knowing––Peter has never jumped out of his seat so fast. If Tony ever finds out, Peter is toast. But he won’t. Just a brief flight. Nothing could go wrong.

“You won’t tattle on me, right, Fri?” he asks.

“Of course not.”

“Knew I could count on you.” Peter smiles, but it falters as he stops in his tracks. “Wait––this is stupid. I’m stupid. Aren’t the suits coded to him?”

“Yes, but he has them coded to you, too.”

“What? Really?”

“He has them coded to all of his loved ones.”

Peter blinks. He blinks again. “S-say that again?”

“Boss has given his loved ones access to his suits in the case of immediate mortal danger,” she says. “That includes you.”

“Quit pullin’ my leg, Fri,” Peter half-chuckles, scratching the back of his head. “Just tell me I can’t use the suit.”

“I’m not pulling your leg.”

He rubs at his forehead and lets out a breath.

“Your body language suggests that you’re nervous.”

“Yeah, yeah, well––” Peter squints his eyes shut. “I mean, it’s Mister Stark. What if––what if he finds out? My head’ll be served for breakfast. A-and then he’ll take away Spider-Man, and Fri, I don’t know if I can––”

“Are you going to let fear dictate your life, Peter?”

His eyebrows raise at the question. Holy shit. He’s never heard FRIDAY speak so philosophically before. And she called him scared. He’s not scared––he’s just spending a little extra time making sure it’s the right decision, of course.

“No,” he mumbles, biting as his lip. “I don’t wanna do that.” Around him, provocative prototypes and unfinished creations await his final verdict. The bare bones of a gauntlet scream his name on a table to his right. Peter nods. “Okay. Okay. I’m doing it. Fri––oh shit, I’ve always wanted to say this––all right, let’s take this outside.”

Tony is in the middle of dreaming about fighting an army of robot dogs when FRIDAY’s voice intervenes. He awakes in a daze, torso slumped to the floor while his bottom half remains comfortably on the couch. There’s a tissue stuck to his hand, another flat on his t-shirt, and the pressure in his sinuses goes right back up to his head once he sits up.

“Oh, Jesus,” he groans out, clutching his forehead as he leans over his knees. “Wh-what is it? I was just fighting robotic French Bulldogs––and losing.”

“Peter Parker has asked me not to tell you that he’s taken the Mark Forty-Five out for a flight,” the AI replies.

Tony winces. Mark XLV. Gosh, he hasn’t used that one since Sokovia. It did a helluva fine job, but the memory makes him shudder. He’s successfully not thought about that battle since at least last week, and while it’s not as fresh as some of the others, the reminder still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Mister Parker doesn’t even know the half of what––wait a minute.

“Hold up. Say that again.”

“I’ve been told not to tell you that Peter Parker is out in the Mark Forty-Five suit.”

Tony sits up, and his sinuses flare once again. He doesn’t even react. “M-my Peter? Peter Parker?”

“Yes, boss.”

It takes a few seconds for Tony to stand, meanwhile, he clutches the sides of the couch to keep from passing out. He’s not sure if it’s possible, but he thinks he might have an iron deficiency. And, somehow, Peter Parker has everything to do with it. The stacks of homework, the near-death situations, the constant stress he’s put the poor billionaire under… there’s no question about it.

“And he asked you not to tell me?”

“Yes, boss.”

Tony lets out a breath. “Not sure where exactly your loyalty lies, but I’ll take it. What’s he––why is he––? Oh, I’m gonna kill him. Run me the live audio. Where is he?”

FRIDAY doesn’t answer. Instead, the Mark XVL’s live feed is fed through her operating system. The living space of the compound fills with static, wind, and the familiar, all-too-cheery, soon-to-be-dead-as-a-doornail voice of Peter Parker.

“All righty then, Fri––”

Tony furrows his eyebrows. That’s his nickname for FRIDAY. Son of a bitch.

“––let’s see what this baby can do––oh, shit!”

As the harsh sound of rattling, crackling, and somehow, buzzing, echo throughout the room, Tony rolls his eyes. He’s never been given the chance to forget how young the kid is.

“Okay, okay, I didn’t like that,” Peter says. “Let’s not do that again. Jesus, how does Mister Stark not get motion sick?”

“Cut the feed,” Tony urges. He isn’t sure how to handle his anger. He keeps it contained in his chest while his fingers claw at the couch cushions below him. The rest of his anger resides in his jaw. “I’m gonna kill him. I’m literally gonna kill him. Get me a suit.”

“Boss, your temperature has climbed to––”

“I don’t care,” he says. “Don’t fuckin’ care. I need a suit. I need t’keep my kid from killing himself before I kill him.”

“Incoming call from Tony Stark.”

“W-what?” Peter sputters. “No, no! Fri, don’t answer.”

“Declining call from Tony Stark.”

“Holy shit, thank you.”

Peter has learned three things since he left the compound as Iron Man nearly ten minutes ago. One, he’s not great with changes in altitude. Like, at all. Two, the suit is massively uncomfortable. He’s not sure how Tony can manage more than a half-hour without feeling claustrophobic. And three, Peter has never felt so cool in his entire life.

Ever since he can remember, he’s looked up to Iron Man. The hero has always been untouchable––almost unreal––prior to Germany back in ‘16. Granted, Peter has been a kid for that entire time, and kids think everything that breathes is awesome and larger than life. But with Iron Man, it’s been different. Iron Man has been an emotional crutch, something he could always trust. And now, he’s in the suit.

Peter can’t wait to tell Ned.

But––why did Tony call him?

“I think we’ve had enough fun for today,” Peter says, chuckling nervously as he figures out how to stop flying.

“Setting a course back to the compound,” FRIDAY states. “Do you want me to alert Tony that you’re on your way back?”

“What? No!” Peter’s heart jumps while he takes off soaring in the opposite direction. He’s tired, and he’s flown into too many trees. And he thinks he might have knocked a bird out of its nest earlier in the flight. “Shit, wait––does that mean he knows? Is that why he called me?”

“Your personal phone is not connected to the Mark Forty-Five’s heads-up display,” she replies.

“Oh,” Peter whispers. After that, he finally registers what she meant. “Oh. Oh no. Th-that means he called himself. He called the suit. I’m dead. I’m dead meat.”

“Incoming call from––”

“Don’t answer.”

“Override.”

“Parker.” It’s Tony.

Peter flinches, eyes screwing shut as he holds in a breath. “Hey, Mister Stark.” He exhales shakily.

“Hey, Mister Stark, yeah, okay––” Tony chuckles, but it’s not genuine. Not in the slightest. Even the soundwaves in the HUD look menacing. “Where have you been?”

“I’m out,” Peter answers, "on a stroll.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

He’s dead. He’s literally dead. He doesn’t know how he can lie his way through this, but hell, he’s going to try. “Honest. I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

Tony laughs again. It’s frighteningly evil. And congested. “Kid, if you’re somehow not dead by the time you get back, I may just kill you myself.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, just watch me.”

Peter’s skin crawls at the sound of Tony’s voice. He’s dead. “Mister Stark, I’m––”

“Get your ass back here,” Tony says. “Now. We’ll talk then. FRIDAY, take him home. Turn off manual control.”

“Yes, boss.”

Before Peter can interject, the call cuts off and the heads-up display returns back to normal. His eyes well up, and his throat clenches as he tries to breathe through––what feels like––a straw. Under his breath, he mutters, “traitor,” but FRIDAY doesn’t answer.

Peter’s landing is rough, and it’s almost comical for Tony to watch. But nothing is funny to him, not right now. It was one thing when Rhodey took the suit some-odd years ago––it was Rhodey, a full-grown adult––yet Tony’s stomach twists at the sight of Peter under that faceplate. There’s anger, and then there’s something that many people know as heartbreak. Tony just doesn’t want to admit he is possible of feeling that type of thing. Peter has broken his heart more times than he can count.

“Mister Stark, I’m so––” Peter tries, eyes wide as the suit peels away from around him. He’s startled by the action.

“Nah, I don’t think you get the chance to speak first,” Tony says. He adorns a suit himself––spanking new nanotech that, surprisingly, feels comfortable. Like a second skin. “Did you even think about your actions, or did you just assume that it was a good idea?”

Peter shakes his head a few times. “No, no. I-I did think. I––”

“Yeah, clearly, you didn’t!” Tony waves his arms, and they drop back down to his sides. “Newsflash, kid. That suit costs more than yours tripled. If you had even scratched a finger––”

“I would’ve fixed it, Mister Stark,” Peter replies without a beat. “I would have repaired it myself. You taught me how. I wouldn’t have––”

“How did you expect me to react to this?”

Peter’s shoulders slump. “I didn’t think you’d find out,” he mutters.

Tony wants to laugh again. So this is what being a parent feels like. May deserves more credit than he’s given her. “If you think you’re such an ‘Iron Man’ expert, then you should’ve just made your own damn suit.”

Peter’s gaze drops. He accepts blow after blow without question.

But Tony, well, he just gave himself an idea.

“Why didn’t you just tell me you wanted your own suit, kiddo?” he asks, feeling his anger slowly diminish by the second. And meanwhile, ideas of a possible “Iron Spider” fill his head.

“I-I––” Peter hugs his arms. “I dunno.”

Tony ponders. His excitement to tinker suddenly outweighs any irritation he once had. Of course, he’s still mad, but seeing the kid look so discouraged and defeated makes Tony’s heart do something weird. Maybe he does see the kid as his kid.

“All right, well,” he begins, lips twisting while he nods toward the compound, “get inside. Maybe we’ll brainstorm while we talk about how grounded you’re gonna be for the next ten years.”

Relief floods over Peter, and he chuckles. Together, they make their way back inside. The Mark XLV follows.

“Why are you in a suit?” Peter asks after a few seconds.

“Oh, yeah, forgot about that,” Tony mumbles, tapping at the unit on his chest before the nanites trickle back into it. He sniffs, and suddenly he can feel the ache of his sinuses once again. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know if I was gonna have to chase after you or scrape you out of some crater you created because you fell five-hundred feet.”

“I actually think I did pretty okay.”

“Kid,” Tony says, laughing, “I saw you fly in. You definitely almost killed someone.”

Peter huffs and folds his arms. “Well, Fri said I was doing great for a first-timer.”

“Fri––since you insist on calling her that now––is a liar,” Tony replies. “And she definitely likes you too much. I think you’ve become her favorite.”

When he looks over, Peter is smiling.

“What?” asks Tony.

“Nothing.” Peter shrugs. “Just that you made her, and somehow, I managed to become her favorite. S’all.”

“Shut up.” Tony elbows the kid, and it pushes him back a few feet.

“Hey!”

“That’s what you get,” Tony mocks. “Next time, don’t touch my stuff.”

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jenniboo311 · 3 years

Link

Hot Ones: Spider-Man Tries Not to Spill His Secrets While Eating Hot Wings

by jenniboo311

Part 1 of the Hot Ones: Avengers in the Hot Seat series, Part 1 of the Social Butterfly Spidey series

Teen | 17416 Words | Chapter 1/3

The video begins focused on a man in his early thirties looking into the camera, hair buzzed short and wearing a white hoodie under a black bomber jacket. He is sitting at a small table with ten bottles of hot sauce lined up down the center from hot to hottest, a platter of ten chicken wings set in front of him, with the whole set backdropped in black. The man smiles and begins his introduction.

"Hi everyone, from First We Feast this is Sean Evans and you're watching Hot Ones: the show with hot questions and even hotter wings."

The camera angle changes but maintains the closeup.

"You may recognize our next guest from his daring acrobatics, swinging high above the streets of Queens as he patrols vigilantly to keep its citizens safe. From rescuing cats stuck in trees to taking down drug rings and even occasionally joining the Avengers in taking on aliens to save the world, there is no task too simple or too daunting for this hero. Please welcome to the show, the amazing Spider-Man."

The camera changes to focus on the guest sitting across from him, a young man wearing dark blue jeans, white sneakers, and a thin dark grey hoodie that easily displays the shape of his fit body, the sleeves casually pulled a third of the way up to reveal sinewy forearms corded with veins and a few faint scars. Most notably he is wearing a Spider-Man mask to preserve his identity.

The large white eyes narrow a fraction in delight and the area around the mouth twitches, as if there is a smiling mouth beneath the fabric.

"Wow, what an intro," he enthuses, "Thank you so much for having me! I'd say it's a pleasure to be here but I'm actually a fan of your show and so I have a good idea of what's in store for me."

His voice is light and friendly and sounds relatively young.

They both laugh at Spider-Man's joke and Sean looks delighted and flattered.

"Thank you so much, I am a fan of yours as well, Spider-Man! You sound a bit apprehensive though. I've gotta ask, how are you with hot food?"

"Uhhhh-"

He reaches back to scratch the back of his neck nervously and the eyes on his mask widen comically as he cocks his head to the side and continues.

"I'm gonna be real honest with you here, Sean."

Sean laughs again, "Okay lay it on me Spidey - can I call you Spidey?"

"Yeah of course. I actually used to love hot food. A relative of mine was pretty terrible at cooking when I was growing up so we got takeout a lot and we would often get this crazy hot curry for fun from a spot down the road and man, I think we had cast iron stomachs because it didn't bother us a bit and most people can't even get through half."

Sean throws his hands up in confusion and gestures at him, "So this should be a breeze for you! Why do you sound so worried?!"

"I said 'used to'! Since I became enhanced and became Spider-Man my senses have been heightened and are what I've described as 'dialed to eleven'. So where I used to be able to basically eat battery acid, I fear now it's going to kick my ass. I actually don't know for sure since I've avoided it since the incident but I suspect it will be bad."

Sean grins devilishly and not at all sorry, "Uh oh! That's not looking good for you!"

Spider-Man shifts in his chair to get more comfortable and one eye widens slightly as if he has raised an eyebrow, "No it's not! Give me a mob of dangerous armed criminals any day, but a plate of chicken wings can get the best of me!"

Sean rubs his hands together like a cliche evil villain, "And now we know your weakness!"

Spider-Man recoils in jest and slaps a hand to his covered mouth.

"Seriously though," Sean continues, "Aren't you worried that potential enemies will know now that you're weakened by things that will overwhelm your heightened senses?"

"I mean nobody is invulnerable, not even people who are enhanced. I'm still human, just...extra. If you blast loud noise or bright lights at anyone it's going to be unpleasant. But I've got my suit to help with most of that. My mask helps dampen sounds and dim lights, things like that."

"Well what if you lose the mask?"

Spider-Man shrugs, "If they're close enough to manage to relieve me of my mask without a fight I've got bigger problems."

They both laugh and Sean nods and concedes the point.

"Okay Spidey, let's get this party started! Good luck!"

Spider-Man reaches up to carefully fold the mask up over his mouth to reveal a chiseled jaw, light stubble, and a gentle, friendly grin.

"It would be a bit difficult to eat wings with a mask over my mouth."

Sean looks intrigued at seeing even this much of his face and a bit surprised, "My God, that jawline could cut glass!"

Spider-Man gives a surprised laugh that reveals even, white teeth, and a faint flush creeps up his neck. He settles on an embarrassed smirk and brings his hand up to drag down his jaw, "Thanks, I think?"

"Wow, did I really just get Spider-Man to blush?"

Spider-Man shrugs awkwardly, "I'm not use to getting compliments on my face since I've always got my mask on, usually people comment on my ass."

"I mean, it's a great ass!" Sean quips teasingly.

They both laugh and Sean is obviously joking and trying to rile him up but it works and Spider-Man flushes darker and shakes his head in embarrassed resignation.

"It's the spandex! Not much left to the imagination unfortunately."

"Or fortunately, depending on who you ask!"

Spider-Man shakes his head again and they both finally take a bite of the first wing. After a couple chews Spider-Man freezes and then clenches his jaw and inhales deeply to fortify himself.

"Alright there Spidey?" Sean is quietly amused.

After a moment he quickly chews the rest of the bite and downs it in a painful sounding gulp, his Adam's apple visibly bobbing. He tries to speak but his voice cracks and he has to clear it and try again, "I think I'm in trouble."

"Already?!" The host exclaims in disbelief, "It's only the first one!"

Spider-Man's jaw clenches and his large white eyes narrow at him playfully.

"I am painfully aware of that, Sean."

Sean laughs at Spider-Man's deadpan delivery and gives him a minute while he finishes the wing and tosses it in the trash hidden behind the table before dabbing his mouth politely with a napkin.

"Speaking of spandex," Sean begins, "I've gotta say it's extremely strange to see you sitting here without the red and blue, you look like a totally normal dude! I'll be honest, I was expecting you to show up in the suit. I wasn't expecting this normal dude in a mask to stroll in!"

Spider-Man laughs, "That's the thing isn't it? I am a totally normal guy outside of the walking on walls thing. I've been told I'm a little boring to be honest."

Sean shakes his head and scoffs, "I'm not sure I believe that."

Spider-Man shrugs a shoulder, "I guess the Spider-Man side of me is so exciting that a little boring isn't a bad thing. Everyone needs a bit of downtime. Nobody can stay switched on all the time, even Spider-Man!"

"No, I guess not," Sean concedes.

"And I figured if I was going to suffer through the agony of 'the last dab' I should at least be comfortable instead of sweating a puddle in my spandex. I dare say I'll sweat more today than even some of my more memorable fights."

"You're so sure you'll get to the final wing and 'the last dab'! I love the confidence," he crows and Spider-Man answers with a cocky smirk and cheeky finger guns.

"And is this something you typically like to wear," he continues, "Your civilian clothes, so to speak?"

"I mean...yes and no? I guess it's what I would wear if people knew I was Spider-Man? I usually wear thicker hoodies and baggy shirts to hide my body. I'd love to be able to wear clothes that actually properly fit me all the time. I usually only wear these when I'm at the Avengers compound."

Sean's jaw drops, "So you're telling me that you're ripped and nobody even knows?"

Spider-Man laughs, "Yep! I tend to act a little differently as a civilian to separate the two for safety, not as saucy or outgoing, and that definitely includes hiding how strong I am."

"I don't think I'd have the willpower to not show off," Sean admits. "So if your identity is eventually revealed, will people who know you be surprised?"

Spider-Man clears his throat a couple times, clearly uncomfortable with the spice but trying not to be too obvious.

"When I'm revealed, and I've always assumed it will get out eventually so it's more of a when rather than an if, I think people are definitely going to be surprised. I don't think anyone who knows my civilian self would ever guess I'm Spider-Man. Which I guess is a big part of how I've managed to keep it secret these last few years."

Spider-Man begins to visibly relax as the interview progresses and he slouches back into his chair, resting his right ankle over his left knee. His left hand comes to rest on his shoe, his fingers idly tapping.

"But does that offend you though?" Sean continues, "I feel like if that were me and I was like, 'I'm Spider-Man!', and my friends were all like, 'There's no way this weird wimp is Spider-Man', I'd be pretty offended. I'd be like, 'Not even a small part of you thinks I could be Spider-Man?!'"

Spider-Man laughs, "I mean yeah, there's a small vain part of me that bristles at having to act 'lesser' than what I am. I'm a pretty lean guy so if I wear a baggy shirt I just look kinda scrawny. I've been mocked for being 'weak', I've been pushed around, roughed up. And I can't even fight back because I don't want to hurt anyone and it wouldn't be a fair fight, and because it would give away the game so to speak. So that part of me is offended I guess, and wishes I could just show people what I'm made of. You know? Show them I can be a funny smartass who can hold his own and that I'm not as shy and meek as I might seem. But the sensible side of myself, which is thankfully a lot more prominent than the vain part, is relieved that it's that much more unbelievable because my friends and family are safer that way."

"Except now people will know that you act weak and shy, won't that give you away?"

Spider-Man pauses to think and scratch thoughtfully at his jaw, "No I don't think so. I just act more like normal people do. A ton of people are shy to some degree and most people will avoid conflict so I don't think that's really giving things away. That's just describing most of the population and if they can figure out who I am just from that I'll be impressed."

They both move on to the next wing, Spider-Man giving a slight cough after the first swallow.

"Hoooo, that's got a kick!", he wheezes and takes another bite.

Sean is impressed, "Wow, and you're still going to clean the wing. Mad respect, Spidey!"

Spider-Man finishes eating and tosses the bone away and dabs his mouth with a napkin, "I detest wasting food."

Sean raises his eyebrows curiously, "Is that from some kind of personal experience or just on general principal?"

Spider-Man ponders how much to reveal, purses his lips, and hesitantly admits, "I...grew up in a limited income household. It never got so bad that I truly went without, but we were sometimes limited enough that I wasn't always exactly full either. My family did their absolute best to provide for me and I'm incredibly thankful for that and I try to never take things for granted like food or a roof over my head. And that unfortunately translates to cleaning a chicken wing even when my tongue feels like I've licked a cheese grater."

Sean nods along sympathetically to Spider-Man's answer until the end where he laughs and says, "Surely it's not that bad already?"

Spider-Man answers by hanging out his tongue, which is an angry red color.

Sean winces, "Oh God! That looks painful! You are totally in trouble! Are you okay to continue?"

Spider-Man sticks his tongue back in and takes a few deep breaths with his mouth open to try to cool it with the air. After a moment Spider-Man answers him in a humourous deadpan, "You may not know this about me, Sean, but part of being Spider-Man involves having zero self preservation."

This causes Sean to laugh before he continues with the interview.

"Growing up on movies and comics where the hero with the secret identity miraculously transforms into his alter ego by taking off his glasses and sporting a cheesy spit-curl, I never much considered how silly that really was. Now, being privileged to live in a time and place that honest to God real superheroes exist I've gotta wonder how challenging it actually is to separate the two identities in real life. Do you worry that acquaintances of your civilian self will watch this interview and recognize your voice? Or even that they'll run into Spider-Man in person some day and recognize your voice and figure it out?"

Spider-Man shrugs, "Back when I first started, sure, that was a possibility. I made my own gear by myself in those days and didn't have access to the real fancy tech. I made my web formula and my web shooters and a crappy version of my suit but that's about it. But after I met Tony Stark and we started working together on my gear I haven't had to be worried about that so much. He installed a voice modulator in my mask. It's not drastically different than my normal voice, but it's just different enough that if you knew my civilian self you wouldn't hear Spider-Man and think, 'Hey I know that guy!' And as for this video, since I can't wear my mask over my mouth for the modulator I have a piece that is clipped over my mic right now that's modulating for me."

Sean perks up in interest, "So the voice I'm hearing right now in studio is your real voice?"

Spider-Man grins cheekily and jests, "Yes! Aren't you lucky?!"

Sean claps a dramatic but genuine hand to his chest, "I am! I feel so privileged!"

Spider-Man's cheeky grin softens into a flattered smile and his eyes narrow in delight, "I wasn't too worried because I knew that I didn't know anybody that works here on your set so nobody will recognize my real voice. And everybody watching at home will just hear the Spidey-voice." Spider-Man's grin sharpens, "And hey, if you guys end up recognizing me somehow anyway, you've all signed NDAs."

Sean snaps his fingers in feigned disappointment, "Oh man! So if I happen to meet you while you're in your civvies and I recognize your voice I can't acknowledge you?"

"I mean, I'd probably make eye contact and smirk at you when no one is looking because I'm a little shit. But otherwise I'd pretend not to know you."

They both share a laugh.

Spider-Man coughs a couple times and sniffles as his nose has started to run with the spice.

"Hanging in there, dude?"

Spider-Man doesn't answer right away but takes a couple deep breaths before answering with a slightly strangled, "'M fine."

Sean smirks and they dig in to their third wing.

"You've mentioned Tony Stark, how did you two meet? Did you approach him and be like, 'Hey I'm Spider-Man!"

Spider-Man snorts and coughs into his napkin from the spice as he's cleaning his mouth. He sniffs some more and wipes his running nose, "No, not at all. We met a couple years ago now, but I didn't approach him. I had no intention of telling anyone who I was and that included Tony Stark, Iron Man or not."

Spider-Man pauses for a moment to hang his head backwards in a fit of desperation and grabs the top of his head in a tortured manner.

"God that's hot. Why am I doing this?"

Sean laughs good naturedly and replies, "To be honest, Spidey, I ask myself that question everyday."

Spider-Man chuckles and visibly flustered says, "What was I taking about? Oh right, meeting Tony. Yes. I came home one day and he was sitting on my couch talking to my family member like it was no big deal."

"What seriously?!"

"Yep! So I start internally panicking like, 'What does he know?' I can only think of one reason Iron Man is in my living room and it's probably to do with my alter ego. And sure enough he starts rhyming off this totally bogus competition that I had supposedly applied to Stark industries for and that I had supposedly won and I knew then that he knew. The look he shot me that screamed, 'Play along or else,' really cinched it."

Sean's jaw dropped, "Oh god what did you do?"

"I played along of course. My family member didn't know anything about Spider-Man - in fact nobody else at all knew at that point in time - and thankfully Tony had assumed as much so we kept it up until my family member was satisfied and we stepped out to speak alone to 'hash out the details'."

Sean was visibly intrigued, "What did he want?"

"He was trying to recruit me for that whole Avengers conflict that people dubbed the 'civil war'. He needed help and had seen some YouTube videos floating around of me, and Tony Stark being Tony Stark managed to figure out who I was just from that."

"Holy shit!"

"I know!"

Sean's eyebrows creased in concern, "Are you worried someone else could find you that way?"

Spider-Man grins in mirth, "Not unless they're Tony Stark. I think only he can manage something like that with such flimsy information."

They both laugh and Sean agrees that that is probably true.

"So judging from the few clips that surfaced in the news, you fought with them in Germany so you took him up on it I guess?"

"Yeah, of course I did. He needed the help and I mean you don't just say no to Iron Man for no reason."

"No I would guess not! And how did all of that go?"

"I mean I'm sure you heard the basic jist of the outcome in the media. Other than that, I stole Cap's shield! Bucky and Sam are still a little salty that I kicked their asses but everything was worked out later so no hard feelings. We're all friends now and back together again."

Sean stutters, "Wait-wait! You stole captain America's shield?!"

Spider-Man grins proudly, "I did! But then he dropped an airport terminal on me so I'd say we're about even."

Sean goes wide eyed at the nonchalant quip of an event that would kill any normal person, "Dude what even is your life?"

He repeats Sean's words back to him from earlier in a dry tone and with a wry quirk to his lips, "To be honest, Sean, I ask myself that everyday."

They take a moment to laugh together and Spider-Man turns his face away from the camera to pull his mask a little higher to blow his nose. He readjusts his mask again before turning back to Sean.

"Oh God," Spider-Man moans, obviously suffering.

"Almost halfway there Spidey, you're doing great," Sean coaches.

"Am I? I don't feel great."

They eat their fourth wing and Spider-Man whines as he chews and shakes his head like he can't believe he's doing this.

Sean smirks.

"So obviously you've kept in touch with Tony Stark and you've met the other Avengers. What is that relationship like? Have you thought about the possibility of one day becoming one? Is that something you would want?"

Spider-Man thoughtfully nods, "Yeah we're pretty close. I've never told anyone this but not too long after Germany Tony actually invited me to become an Avenger."

"Oh my God! So you're actually an Avenger now?! How did nobody know this?"

Spider-Man coughs and clears his throat, "No, I turned him down."

Sean stares at him dumbfounded, "Did you just say you turned down Tony Stark when he asked you to join the Avengers?"

Spider-Man laughs and tries to smother his smirk but fails, "Yes and he never lets me hear the end of it. I don't think many people tell him no."

"So what was your reasoning? I think most people in your shoes would kill for that opportunity."

"Yeah I think I surprised the hell out of Tony. Actually made his mouth hang open. I like to remember it when he's being particularly irritating."

They snicker and there's a clearing of a throat off screen and Spider-Man looks past the camera in its direction and delivers a shit eating grin. After a moment he becomes serious again and turns back toward the host.

"It's not that I wasn't honored, or even that I didn't want to become an Avenger, because I did and I still do, but unfortunately there was more to consider than just wanting it. Joining the Avengers would involve signing the accords, and signing the accords would require me to unmask to the general public. The biggest reason that I keep myself masked is for protection. Not for myself, because I can handle it and I willingly signed up for all this nonsense and sometimes it would just be easier if I didn't have a secret identity, but I do it for the people around me who wouldn't be able to protect themselves and who didn't ask for any of this. Being in Spider-Man's orbit is incredibly dangerous."

Sean quietly nods, respectful of the sudden serious turn of the conversation.

Spider-Man continues, "It's been determined by the media and law enforcement that I am a young man, likely between the ages of 16 and 25. If that were true then hypothetically it would be logical that I would likely be a student of some kind. And if I were hypothetically a student that would mean an entire school full of students and teachers would be vulnerable at all times just because I attend. I have an awful lot of enemies and every one of them would cheerfully do whatever they needed to do to exploit a weakness to see me dead, and attacking my hypothetical classmates to get to me would be a big one. And that's not to even mention my family, of course."

Sean looks horrified, like he wouldn't have considered that reason, and it brings a weight and seriousness to the interview that hadn't been felt until now.

"Hypothetically," Spider-Man reiterates.

"Right," Sean agrees dubiously, though it's obvious that he is admitting to being a student without actually admitting it.

"And you know, the accords only account for the big world ending stuff, and I'm all about helping the little guy, you know? I have been since the very beginning. And signing the accords right now would prevent me from continuing on how I am now. I would be obligated to stay out of any conflict without consulting the council and who has time for that for a petty theft or an assault? I'd get myself thrown on the RAFT pretty quick because there's no way I could witness a rape and not stop it."

"Wow, yeah, and crime would soar I bet once criminals heard you're off the streets. You've really reduced the crime rate over the last few years. Criminals would have a field day if they knew you couldn't interfere."

"You bet they would. But they're currently working on a clause to address that, so hopefully by the time I need it it won't be a problem."

"So you're still hoping to become an Avenger in future? The offer is still on the table?"

"It's logical to assume that I would hypothetically sign the accords after I hypothetically graduate or when my identity gets outed to the public, which ever comes first. The offer has strictly never been taken off the table, exactly."

Sean snickers at Spider-Man's unwillingness to come right out and confirm without the silly hypotheticals.

"But you know," he continues after a moment, "The loop hole is that the accords don't say anything about training together. I spend some evenings and most weekends at the compound training together and learning to be a team. Legally they can't call on me when they assemble, but if I'm in the area and get wind and join in or am already engaged when they join in, then there's nothing preventing that. And we work seamlessly together because of that training and familiarity. So legally I'm not considered an avenger but I guess you could call me an honorary one until it's made official?"

Spider-Man shifts in his chair in discomfort and plucks at his hoodie. He gives in and takes a tiny sip of ice water and clears his throat.

Sean has no mercy and continues the interview without pause, "Avengers training on evenings and weekends, patrolling as Spider-Man, 'hypothetically' studying, making time for family and friends, you sound like a busy guy! When do you sleep?"

Spider-Man grins and sniffles with his runny nose, "Sleep is for the weak."

Sean snorts and they dig in to their fifth wing.

Spider-Man makes a noise of enjoyment, "Wow this one is delicious."

Sean looks pleased, "Thank you! This one is actually a Hot Ones branded sauce, glad you like it. We'll send you home with one in your gift bag."

"That's so nice, thank you. And I mean this in the nicest way, I won't be eating it."

Spider-Man begins coughing as the delayed spice kicks in and he gasps in desperation as Sean laughs in amusement.

"I'll give it to my family member though, the one who loves spice. They'll love it. God you're evil, who the hell made this sauce?! Was it you, Sean? I don't think we can be friends."

Sean laughs again and claps a hand to his wounded heart, "I'm devastated to hear that, but yes I was one of a few who had input on the sauce."

Spider-Man looks up at the ceiling in desperation and then pounds a fist against his thigh and then sits up straight again after a moment, though still gasping and groaning.

"You know, you're a funny guy but based on the footage I've seen of you on YouTube and the news, and heard from people who have encountered you in public, I was expecting someone with a lot more wisecracks, who is more sarcastic and a bit goofy. You're humourous but there's a seriousness to you that I didn't expect."

"Yeah I mean I can be a smart ass for sure, but a lot of that is put on and exaggerated for the persona. I find the bad jokes and the nonchalance often unsettles opponents, throws them off. They're used to people being afraid and running away and then I bounce in making terrible puns and they don't know how to handle me. And it brings a certain levity to my day that would otherwise just smother me. I mean I've seen it all, it's some heavy shit. Weapons, drugs, theft, torture, murder, rape, enslavement. I don't act flippant to make light of the situation, I do it because if I don't I'll get buried in the shit that is the dregs of society that I witness everyday. You wanted to interview me to actually get to know me a bit and I don't feel like it would be truly genuine if I snarked my way through the whole thing. The truth is, I'm just not like that twenty-four seven. So you're getting genuine Spider-Man right now."

"Well I appreciate that, Spides, and I can honestly say that I've enjoyed getting to know genuine Spider-Man and I think everyone watching will too."

Spider-Man smiles widely, sniffs again, and snarks, "Yeah maybe not everyone, but I appreciate the sentiment."

"Speaking of, you've had your fair share of bad press for sure. People seem to be really divided on whether they love you or hate you. It must be hard to put so much into saving people only to be called a menace. How do you feel about all that?"

Spider-Man pauses to think for a moment while trying to discretely pick chicken out of his front teeth with his thumb nail.

"I mean...I guess I'm used to it now."

He discretely sucks on his front teeth to dislodge the chicken and pauses to turn away and blow his nose again. He tugs at his collar which brings attention to the sweat beginning to gather in the hollow of his exposed collarbone. He continues in a strained voice, "When I first started it was definitely harder to take. I was just trying to help because I have power and abilities that most people don't have and I felt a responsibility to use that for good. A late relative very dear to me used to tell me 'with great power comes great responsibility'. I didn't take it seriously at the time and without going too deep into that I will say that I later learned the hard way what that motto really means and is largely the reason I actually became Spider-Man. But you know there are always going to be critical people, people who don't like you no matter what you do just for the sake of disliking you, and people who don't like you because they don't understand. It was hard not to take it personally at first but over time I developed a thicker skin and just kind of laugh at it now. I had a rocky start with the police at first but these days they trust me and we have a good working relationship now. The stuff I get blamed for by the public is sometimes ludicrous but you know that's a part of becoming a public figure. I think anyone who becomes famous or dare I say, a celebrity, has to deal with that. Maybe not to the same degree I do, but definitely in similar ways. But the lives I have truly touched and the people I have helped drown all that out. To save someone's child from a burning building and then have them tearfully embrace me and thank me over and over for saving their child's life, feel them shaking in relief and squeezing me as hard as they possibly can, that beats any negativity any day. I don't do it for the gratitude, nor do I need it, but it's fortifying and energizing. That's food for the soul right there. That's why I keep doing what I do. It keeps me going even when it gets really difficult to do so."

Spider-Man starts to sound a bit choked up near the end of his passionate speech and Sean tactfully pauses for a moment to allow Spider-Man to compose himself.

"Wow I can't imagine. Nor can I imagine what it's like to run into a burning building when everyone is running out."

"It's not for everyone! But you know I'm not the only one, we have to give mad props to first responders everywhere because they're running into danger too, not just me. Policemen, firemen, paramedics. They're heros, all of them. And they're not even enhanced. I have the biggest respect for them."

They pause to eat their sixth wing and Spider-Man gets into a coughing fit and struggles to swallow the whole thing but eventually does before wiping his mouth and nose and tugging at his collar again.

"God it's warm in here. Is it warm in here?" He chokes out.

Sean snickers but is otherwise largely unaffected.

"I'm so mad you're not even phased. I'm losing some serious street cred here. I look like a wimp!" Spider-Man gestures angrily at Sean and Sean snickers.

Spider-Man leans his head forward and props it up on his hand, his elbow resting on the the table, sniffing and moaning in distress.

"To be fair I don't have enhanced senses and I've done this a lot, so there's that."

"Yeah I don't think people are going to care too much about that when they're calling me Spider-wimp anyway."

Sean let's out a surprised snort and grins as he watches Spider-Man suffer.

Spider-Man suddenly cracks and reaches for the glass of ice water to his right, "To hell with it, does this shit help?" He gulps a couple mouthfuls and then holds some in his mouth while he looks at Sean in distress.

"I mean psychologically maybe? Mostly no."

Spider-Man leans over to spit the water into the trash hidden to the right of the table and he dabs at his burning red mouth with his napkin.

Spider-Man groans and seems to deliberate for a moment. "Okay this is coming off"

Spider-Man reaches for his hoodie and yanks it over his head, careful not to upset the mask and reveals his body mic with a small modulator device overtop clipped to a red t-shirt that had previously been concealed by the sweater. The shirt is not skin tight but fits his form well and does nothing to hide his trim figure. The sweat at his throat is more noticeable and glistens in the bright studio lights.

Sean smirks, "Stripping off Spidey? Should we get some music and mood lighting?"

"Listen. If this gets much hotter everyone's getting an eyeful. I'll be the first guest to finish their wings fully naked at this rate."

Sean laughs hard and shakes his head in disbelief, "We'd have to blur, but we'd go viral I think. You do you, Spidey. Do what you need to do."

Spider-Man wheezes out a painful laugh.

Sean changes the topic and gestures at Spider-Man's forearms, "I can't help but notice a couple scars on your exposed arms, do you get injured often? What types of injuries are typical for you?"

"Yeah of course. Obviously I try not to get hit and I'm pretty slick and can usually avoid most incoming attacks, but sometimes it's unavoidable. Both just because I can't move away in time or because there's a civilian behind me and if I move I know they'll get hit."

Sean looks shocked, "Are you saying you've willingly taken bullets for people?"

"Yeah totally, as well as knives and other random projectiles. Desk chairs, mailboxes, chunks of drywall, you name it and they have probably thrown it at me."

Sean interjects with a laugh, "So basically everything but the kitchen sink!"

Spider-Man quirks his lips, "Well actually..."

"You've literally been hit with a kitchen sink?!" Sean asks incredulously.

"I've been hit with almost everything at this point. Usually on purpose though they probably just thought I was too slow to dodge. Most times I can dodge, so often if I get hit it's by choice." Spider-Man turns to address the nearest camera suddenly and points at it as if scolding those watching, "Which is why it's extremely important to flee the area if you can if there is an ongoing altercation. The less potential casualties around the more effective I can be, and the more effective the police can be as well."

He turns back to the host and takes a moment to shift uncomfortably in his chair.

"And do you have a higher pain tolerance then, being enhanced?"

Spider-Man shakes his head emphatically, "No I wouldn't say that. I may be stronger than most people but that doesn't affect my pain tolerance. It hurts to get wailed in the face or shot in the arm as much as if it happened to you or anybody else. I just push past that and do it anyway because the alternative might be someone losing their life. I do have enhanced healing, however, so I heal a lot faster than a regular Joe would. That means a bullet that would cause a fatal bleed out in someone normal might be able to heal fast enough on me to not prove fatal. Still hurts the same though. But yeah, I get a lot of sprained muscles, bruises, minor cuts like a split lip or a superficial graze on my body that usually looks worse than it is. I haven't kept count but I've been stabbed -and this doesn't count superficially - maybe three or four times so I guess that averages to maybe once a year. And I've been shot - again, not counting superficial gunshot wounds - roughly twice that on average. Bone breaks are also fairly common but it depends on what I'm doing. It's not terribly common fighting petty crime because they're usually not skilled enough in hand to hand to give me a broken bone but if I'm training with the Avengers, that's where I get weekly broken bones. They heal pretty fast though, usually a couple days.

"Wow they're not kidding around."

"No definitely not. At this level you play for keeps, you know? There's no pulling punches. Going easy on each other in training would just end up in someone getting killed once they come up against the real deal and find themselves unprepared. I've got Hawkeye actually shooting arrows at me, Black Widow trying to crush me with her thighs, Captain America with his damn shield. Breaks my hand everytime I'm forced to catch it with my bare hands instead of my webs. I hate that thing. It's kind of a running joke at this point. I think he secretly enjoys it because of how we first met and I stole it from him and made him look bad."

Sean raises disbelieving eyebrows, "I'm not sure I believe that. He seems so wholesome in the press."

"Hah! He's a nice guy sure, but he can be a little shit when he wants to. Everyone calls me the little shit but I think it takes one to know one! He's going to punish me for that one later, when he sees this."

"Have you ever had any close calls or truly bad injuries? Any moments where you thought you weren't going to make it?"

"Absolutely." He pauses to take another gulp of water and swallows before coughing and turning to blow his nose.

"Ohhh, God, what is my life? Why is this my life?!"

Sean laughs and waits patiently for Spider-Man to get ahold of himself and answer the question.

"Uhhhhh bad injuries. Hmm. I got skewered once with rusty rebar right through my lower abdomen. It thankfully missed vital organs but I lost a ton of blood and nearly bled out before I could finish the conflict."

Sean's jaw drops, "Are you serious?"

"Yeah that was messy!"

Spider-Man promptly yanks up the bottom half of his t-shirt to reveal his lower torso. It is muscled and smoothly toned as expected, marred by a puckered, nasty looking scar on the left side.

Sean leans in a little and squints to get a better look. After a beat he whistles and shakes his head.

He releases his shirt so that it falls back in place, "And I can't go to a hospital so Tony allows me to get treated at the compound with his personal medical team when it's bad enough that I can't just let it heal on my own."

Sean nods in understanding, "So like getting shot."

"Naw, I usually dig the bullet out myself and staple it closed. I usually have enough time to quickly angle so it doesn't hit anything important. So I do occasionally get shot but it's usually not likely to be fatal."

Sean stares in incredulity, "You dig it out... Staple...That's possibly the most badass thing I've ever heard anyone say."

Spider-Man laughs in surprise and it turns into a cough. He dabs at the sweat on his throat, bringing attention to his now damp shirt collar, and sips some more water.

Spider-Man continues, "Nah, it's usually for something life threatening, or that I will need surgery for. And that really sucks because it's super hard to knock me out or give me painkillers because my body metabolizes them too quickly to be truly effective. Usually I have to suffer through it conscious. One time they needed Thor to come in and belt me in the head to knock me out long enough to operate because it would have been too agonizing to sit through awake."

Sean's eyebrows crawl further up his forehead, "I stand corrected. That might be the most badass thing I've ever heard anyone say."

They share a laugh, Spider-Man's bordering on hysterical from discomfort with the spice.

"What about a situation where you thought you were done for? Had any of those?"

"Yes, though no one knows about it."

Sean sits a bit straighter in his chair with peaked interest, "Nobody?"

Spider-Man shakes his head while gasping and sipping more water.

"Alright, story time," Spider-Man allows, "And though there's a lot more to the story I'd like to tell I can't because it would give too much away and put my identity in jeopardy, so you're going to get the CliffsNotes version. But anyway, you might remember a couple years back, I had a few run ins with a guy who called himself the Vulture."

He pauses to sip and Sean nods in recognition.

"So anyway let's just say shit escalated in a real scary way and it all came to a head one night. He ended up causing a distraction which resulted in the building collapsing on top of me. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a strong guy, made of stern stuff, but this was a freaking building okay?"

Sean's mouth drops open and he looks stunned.

"Something else you should also know," he continues, "Is that I didn't have my suit. Most everything I do as Spider-Man is all me, not the suit - besides the webs, of course - so I wasn't defenseless by any means, but the suit provides a little protection, has built in vital stats monitoring to alert Tony if I'm seriously injured or in distress so he can provide assistance, and has built in comms so I can easily communicate with the team in case of trouble. Earlier in the week Tony and I had argued and he took back the suit. We disagreed about some things, it's not important for you to know, but basically all I had was my old suit which was basically glorified jammies. Funny tidbit: Tony often calls me 'Underoos', a nickname that he came up with because of my first suit, the one I was wearing when he met me. It was just a hoodie and sweat pants and a basic mask and goggles and my web shooters."

He paused to turn away and blow his nose and gasp some more and sip some water.

"So I ended up trapped under this structure with no comms, no backup, and nobody knew where I was. I could feel myself slowly being crushed to death and let me tell you, nothing can prepare you for that feeling. I strained every muscle in my body trying to delay the inevitable and I could feel that I only had moments left before the end. And of course my mind went to the people I care about most, my family and how devastated they would be at yet another loss to our family, to my best friend, my 'guy in the chair' who had recently found out about my alter ego and was so supportive and my biggest fan. And then my mind went to Tony who had been a recent big player in my life. He made me an awesome suit and let me explore some of the ideas I had for new Spidey tech while completely footing the bill, as well as generally being supportive and trying to give me advice where he could. And even though we had parted badly I still appreciated him and cared about him and I regretted our last interaction. And that reminded me of one of the last things he said to me as he took the suit back. He said, 'if you're nothing without the suit you don't deserve to have it.' And as the debris pressed the last of the air from my lungs I thought 'he's right you know. C'mon Spider-Man.' and I thought of all the people that would die once Vulture hijacked Tony's plane and the tech got into the wrong hands. I didn't even have enough air left to scream my defiance but defy I did. I stood up from that place somehow, debris raining down around me like an avalanche, and staggered my way after him."

Sean was riveted. "Holy shit! And then what happened?"

"I crashed the plane somewhere safe with the two of us on it, had an epic smackdown, tied him up with a pretty bow, and somehow staggered home to pass out. And hypothetically if I were a student, I hypothetically showed up bright and early Monday morning for school like it was no big deal."

Sean shakes his head in disbelief, "You're unbelievable!"

Spider-Man goes into a coughing fit and when he's finished he's flushed and sweating.

"Thanks! I'm afraid to look over at Tony," he admits nervously, "That's the first time he's heard that story, I don't expect him to take it well. How does he look?"

Sean glances awkwardly off camera and quickly turns back to Spidey.

"Err..." He hedges, "He looks incredibly stony faced. I can see why he's called Iron Man. I think you've got a discussion ahead of you."

The camera cuts to show Tony standing with Happy Hogan behind the main cameras next to a few crew members. He's staring hard past the camera at what is presumably Spider-Man, eyes pinched with guilt. After a moment his eyes shut in devastation and he hangs his head before the camera returns to Spider-Man.

Spider-Man deflates, "Yes I expect so. But that was early in our relationship, we're cool now. Not to spill the tea or anything, but after that incident he apologized and admitted he was wrong. And he almost never does either of those things. It was actually after that incident that he invited me to join the Avengers. Said he was impressed with my integrity and capability."

"I feel like this interview is going so much more differently than I expected," Sean admits, slightly baffled.

Spider-Man cocks his head to the side, "In a good way I hope?"

Sean straightens and raises his right hand as if to swear on scouts honor, "Definitely good!"

Spider-Man claps his hands once and rubs them together, "That's great because it will probably be my last interview ever after Tony murders me at the conclusion of this one."

Sean laughs and Spider-Man turns to look deadpan into the nearest camera and says as his big white eyes narrow, "He thinks I'm joking."

They eat their seventh wing and Spider-Man looks confused for a moment.

Sean smirks knowingly, "Wait for it."

Spider-Man cocks his head curiously and after a moment his mouth drops open in shock and the lenses on his mask bulge comically as he exclaims, "Jesus fuck!"

Sean laughs hysterically and clutches his chest at the sudden and uncharacteristic profanity.

Spider-Man claws at his throat and wails, "Oh my God that is so much hotter. Why is this so fucking hot? Why would you do this to me? You're an asshole, Sean."

The crew behind the cameras can't help but join in the laughter and Spider-Man grips the table white knuckled until the metal groans and dents inwards slightly and he releases it.

Spider-Man jolts and apologizes profusely, "Sorry! So sorry! I'll pay for that!"

Sean waves him off as he gushes, "Are you kidding? We'll keep it as a badge of honor. Dented by Spider-Man himself after calling me an asshole!"

Spider-Man laughs desperately and shakes his head in disbelief and gasps before chugging the rest of his water and pouring another glass.

The host considers him thoughtfully, "Actually I think that's the first time I've ever heard you curse. You're rather well known for your non-lethal approach to conflict and lack of potty mouth. Has sweet, innocent, and wholesome Spoods been a lie all this time?"

Spider-Man doesn't answer right away and instead sticks his tongue into the glass of water in an attempt to assauge the heat. It's an angry red and Sean winces sympathetically. He tries to answer, falters, and goes back to the water. After a moment he wipes his mouth and chin and his running nose. After a few gasping breaths he tries to answer but is flustered and no longer as smooth talking as he has been up until now.

"Uh. What? Oh right. Cursing. Yes. Uh. No. I try not to curse," Spider-Man snaps out shortly in between gasps and gulps of water.

"Why is that? Some of the other Avengers have been known to be potty mouths, I don't think they'd be offended," Sean wheedles.

"No, of course they're not offended. I curse in private with them sometimes. Usually during intense training or if that archer asshole gets a prank over on me."

"Hawkeye?" Sean supplies helpfully.

"Yeah, that one," Spider-Man continues to pretend to not know his name in order to subtly insult him.

Sean catches on quickly and snickers at the slight.

Spider-Man manages to get ahold of himself and supplies, "I try not to curse in public because I have a lot of younger fans. I try to be a good role model where I can because whether I want them to or not they look up to me and follow by example. I'm a scientist by nature, not a fighter, so I try to lead by example and show people that sometimes getting physical can't be helped but that using your words is often more effective and should be the first course of action."

He pauses to moan and put his head in his hands before continuing, his head still in his hands.

"Pen is mightier than the sword and all that. Cursing usually isn't helpful in those situations and actually just escalates things. Most people don't realize that a lot of incidents I respond to I talk down the assailant without even getting physical. But those aren't interesting or sensational enough and don't make it on the news as much as a standoff or car chase would. If everyone used calm, respectful dialogue to resolve conflicts Spider-Man probably wouldn't need to exist."

Sean nods thoughtfully and concedes, "There's much more to you than meets the eye, Spider-Man."

They share an understanding glance for a moment and Spider-Man suddenly interjects, breaking the serious pall, "Having said that, sometimes you need to curse. And I still think you're a fucking asshole."

The whole studio erupted in laughter once again at his serious matter of fact delivery and complete change of character from the joking, friendly guy who first came in, and allowed Spider-Man a few moments to collect himself while they calmed down.

They move on to the next wing but Spider-Man pauses and fearfully looks at the bottle in the center of the table to see what one it is.

Spider-Man eyes the hot sauce bottle for the next wing as he reaches for it and despairs, "Oh god, this is 'da bomb'? This one is always the worst! I watch all the Hot Ones episodes and this one is always the worst. I'm going to die! Here lies Spider-Man. RIP. He saved a lot of cats from trees and had a poppin ass."

The studio erupts in laughter as a bit of the smartass persona bleeds through in his distress.

Sean has already finished his wing and calmly waits for Spider-Man to eat his.

Spider-Man fortifies himself and finally takes a bite and wails in displeasure, "Christ this show is so much more entertaining when it's not me!"

Sean slaps his leg in mirth.

"Yeah I'm not going to lie Spidey, this is going to be good internet."

"UGHHH, I'm so happy for you," he half yells, though his sarcastic tone clearly indicates otherwise.

Spider-Man suddenly focuses on something off camera and his eye lenses narrow into a glare.

"He's mocking me! I'll remember that next time there's a power surge and you're free falling a hundred feet in the air towards the ground!"

There's louder male laughter off screen and Sean turns to look.

Spider-Man points at whoever is laughing, "I'll do anything for you to come over here and clean this wing right now. C'mon hot shot."

Tony Stark waltzes into view and stands next to Spider-Man's chair and smirks down at him.

"Anything?"

"Anything within my power," Spider-Man clarifies.

"The quinjet is due for maintenance next month."

Spider-Man yelps, "That's like a six hour job at least!"

"Yup!" Stark chirped, popping the p.

Spider-Man sighs in resignation and holds up the wing, "As if you werent going to rope me into that anyway. Deal."

Tony smirks as he takes the wing and eats the rest of it without hesitation, noticeably not being bothered by Spider-Man passing him the wing despite his hatred of being handed things and of having to eat from a wing already half eaten by Spider-Man.

Spider-Man watches in anticipation and Tony tosses the clean bone in the trash and nods as he grabs a napkin and cleans his mouth and fingers.

"Not bad," Stark muses nonchalantly.

"Not bad?" Spider-Man repeats, his voice growing in volume, "Not bad?! That's it? Oh my God, I'm going to have a melt down. This doesn't bother you at all? What the hell are you made of?!"

Tony smirks at him and turns to look straight into the camera.

"Iron."

Spider-Man's mouth drops open as Sean is set off into laughter once more.

"Did. Did you just."

Spider-Man and Tony look at each other again.

"Yes I did."

"Get the hell out of here," Spider-Man snaps.

This causes Tony to crack and he starts laughing and grasping his chest as he throws his head back and staggers off camera. Spider-Man's eyes follow his progress, lenses glaring the whole way.

Spider-Man finally turns back to Sean and shakes his head, "The audacity."

This sets off another round of snorts before Sean manages to compose himself to ask his next question.

"Alright Spidey, we have a recurring segment in our show called explain that 'gram where we look at our guest's Instagram, do a deep dive to pull a few of the more interesting looking photos, and ask for a little more context. Does that sound okay?"

"Fine!" He coughs and gasps and finally grabs the milk to drink.

Sean brings out his laptop and shows him a picture of Spider-Man in super hero pose holding captain America's shield.

Spider-Man snorts loudly mid sip and some of his milk splatters. He grabs a napkin to clean up while he tries to compose himself.

"That was actually in Germany, remember when I said I stole Cap's shield? That was it!"

"This was it?! How is there a picture of this?"

"Tony has body cams in some of the tech he makes, for example the Spider-Man suit and the Iron Man suit. He was trying to get under Cap's skin one day and everyone knows he's still a bit salty about it so he pulled up the footage, took a screen grab and made me post it," says Spider-Man as he smirks.

Sean snickers, "How did he react?"

"He roped me into a spar, threw his shield at me, and broke my middle finger. Ironically it needed a splint for a day while it healed so everytime I saw him I flipped him the bird with it. Everyone got a good kick out of that."

Sean shakes his head with a grin, "You guys are insane and hardcore."

Spider-Man laughs in agreement and wipes his runny nose and turns his head to cough politely.

"What about this one?"

Sean shows him a picture of Spider-Man posing with a little girl with a shaved head in a hospital bed grinning at the camera.

Spider-Man momentarily perks up from his struggle with the spice to say, "Yes! That's my friend, Jenny! Nobody really knows this about me but I try to visit children's hospitals when I have the time. It cheers them up. Makes them so happy to see their hero, Spidey. It costs me so very little to brighten their day so I try to do it as often as I can. I met Jenny one day and she asked if I would be her friend and I answered that of course I would! So she wanted us to take a picture to post on my Instagram, which I did with her mom's consent."

"That's so selfless of you. What do the parents and nurses say when they meet you?"

"Oh, I don't think any of them actually think I'm really him. They usually comment on what a dedicated cosplayer I am and how close my costume looks to the real thing."

They both laugh at that.

He continues, "I get asked a lot if I made it myself and I just nod and go along with it. Which isn't a lie, I had a lot of input in the current iteration of the Spider suit. Although Jenny's mom realized I was the real deal when it ended up on my official Instagram! And I guess if they all see this video they'll know it was me all along."

"You didn't tell them it was really you?"

"No because then the focus stays on the children as long as they think I'm a cheesy cosplayer just trying to do a good deed. Once they know it's actually me and word gets out then I get swarmed by fans and it becomes about me. That's not what I wanted. I wanted the kids to feel important and special and loved. A small moment of happiness in what for some of them has been a lifetime struggle."

"Well now I feel terrible, I've outed your secret and you can't get away with it anymore. Apologies, my dude," Sean says regretfully.

"It's alright, you didn't know! I'll figure something out. I'll make quick sneak attacks to visit or something!" Spider-Man reassures him.

They both laugh and Spider-Man turns to lift his mask a little and blow his nose.

"For real though these hospitals can always use volunteers, and everyone sure appreciate it. So if you've got some time, please drop by your nearest kids hospital and offer up a little time to put a smile on a kids face. It's the best thing you'll do all day trust me."

"Okay, second last one, Spoods. Are you still with me?"

Spider-Man drags a hand down his face in exhaustion and plucks at his sweaty t-shirt which is now clinging to him a little more than it had been, his throat glistening with perspiration and Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the milk he's desperately been holding in his mouth.

He raises the arm closest to the camera to reveal a damp underarm, "Look at this shit. I don't even break this much of a sweat fighting the tin man over here." He nods in Tony's general direction off camera and gets a snort from him in return.

"And you've got me cussing now. Ugh, I need a second."

Spider-Man stands up and starts slowly pacing behind the table, hands on his hips.

"It's alright, take a lap, Spoods! Whatever you need!" Sean reassures him good naturedly.

Spider-Man stops, turns around and braces his hands against the wall and drops his head, his back to the camera. He gives a heavy sigh, then after a beat with a small snicker, says, "Oh would you look at the time!" and starts crawling up the wall to escape.

Sean's mouth drops open in delighted shock and he throws his arms up in the air. He turns to look at his crew off camera in astonishment and gives them a giant grin.

Spider-Man disappears from sight but Sean's gaze follows him to the ceiling above the table. A faint thwip sound is heard before Spider-Man slowly lowers himself back to the table upside down in his signature pose, his t-shirt falling up his chest a bit to give everyone an eyeful. He gracefully flips forward into his seat and releases the web.

He tugs his shirt back into place and says, "I had forgotten that's why I don't usually do that in civvies. Oh well, I did warn you I'd be naked by the end."

Sean laughs and looks exhilarated at seeing wall crawling with his own eyes.

"That's amazing! You really don't need the suit for that!"

"Nope! That's one hundred percent Spidey, baby!"

He waggles his fingers at Sean as if to demonstrate and announces proudly, "I'm sticky!"

"That's what she said?" Sean fires back uncertainly and Spidey tosses his head back and cracks up at the dirty joke.

They eat their ninth wing and Spider-Man moans in agony. He gulps down some milk and then dabs his nose and mouth. After a moment he grabs a new clean napkin and turns away from the camera to pull the mask away from his face enough to get a tissue in to wipe at his watering eyes.

Spider-Man turns back around and scolds, "You monster, you've made Spider-Man cry!"

"Oh no, I'm going to get so many hate comments for this! Please don't cry, Spoods!" Sean pleads.

Spider-Man chuckles and it turns into coughing.

Sean suddenly gushes, "Looking at all the footage of Spider-Man in action on the news and online, and of course meeting you in person... You're just so cool!"

Spider-Man barks out a loud laugh at that, "That's actually the funniest thing I've heard all week. Anyone who knows my civilian self would have lots to say about me, but 'cool' would not be in the top five. In fact in wouldn't even be in the top ten, if at all. That's actually hilarious, thanks for that."

"Well they don't know what they're talking about because you are indeed cool and I'm sure most of New York would agree with me!"

"Wow that's so nice, thank you! I love you guys!" Spider-Man gushes back.

"We love you too, Spides! Have there been any super embarrassing moments as Spider-Man you'd care to share with us? What's your most embarrassing moment?"

Spider-Man pants loudly and grabs a couple ice cubes out of his glass to press to his sweating neck, the water dripping down his throat to soak into the collar of his t-shirt. He opens his mouth to answer, falters, and then shakes his head as he thinks about it some more.

"God, I don't know if I want to share my most embarrassing. It was so bad and I went to great lengths to keep the team from finding out," he gasps out in a strained voice.

His neck and cheeks start to flush deeper as he thinks about it and Sean grins widely, "Oh this ought to be good. Don't leave us hanging on that one Spidey! Don't worry, we'll be gentle!"

"Oh man! I dunno!" Spider-Man moans in indecision and agony and takes another gulp of milk.

"C'mon!"

"Oh no, peer pressure!"

He looks into the camera and points his finger as if to coach those watching, "Don't give in to peer pressure kids. Think for yourself and if you really don't want to do something, say no and stick with it. If a situation is getting too overwhelming, leave, get yourself out of there."

Sean looks suitably chastised and looks like he feels bad, "You're absolutely right-"

"Having said that-" he interrupts Sean's apology, "I'm gonna tell you anyway. Close your ears kids, this story isn't for you."

Sean's eyes widen like he can't believe his luck.

Before Spider-Man can even begin his story he breaks off in a distracted tangent, "Be honest with me here, Sean, what kind of aftermath damage am I looking at here? Because I feel like I've swallowed napalm and I've got a spar with Black Widow in less than forty minutes before a team up with Deadpool this evening. Am I going to survive this or should I start composing my epitaph now?"

Sean snickers at him as he gives a low scream and chugs more milk.

"I'll never lie to you, Spoods. I'll be honest with you. I think you might be a dead man."

"Yes I thought that might be the case," he confesses in a defeated manner.

"What possessed you to schedule Black Widow after an interview with hot wings?" Sean asks incredulously.

Spider-Man shrugs, "It wasn't so much that I scheduled her after Hot Ones. It was more that I had committed to the interview and then she told me we were going to fight afterwards. And you don't say no to Black Widow, Sean. If she says you're fighting then you're fighting."

"Does your gym have a bathroom? I'd stick close to the bathroom if I were you," Sean confesses hesitantly.

Spider-Man stares at him for a few moments and his eye lenses narrow dangerously, "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious."

"Fuck!"

"I'm sorry, Spoods, I wouldn't lie to you!"

Spider-Man stares at him for another moment, his lips pressed in a firm line. "Sean, I swear to God, if I shit my pants while Black Widow has me in a headlock I'm coming back for you."

Sean starts laughing hysterically and manages to choke out, "No no no no! You signed the waver! You agreed to this!"

"They'll never find the body," he continues menacingly as if Sean never spoke.

Sean laughs helplessly and presses his hands together as if he were praying.

Spider-Man clears his throat several times and drinks the rest of his milk. A crew member comes forward to bring him more milk. "Thank you so much."

He moans in despair and shifts around in his chair before wiping a few drops of sweat from his throat impatiently.

"Okay right, the story. Ugh. So there is a very small group of people these days who know my identity. The Avengers, one enemy, one family member, my best friend, and a close female friend. That's it."

He pauses to clear his throat, wheeze, and take a drink.

"So it's a night I'm planning to stay over at the compound, to get some early training in for the next morning with the team, but it's also an evening I've set aside for my friends. My best friend is out of town so it's just me and my-" He clears his throat, "-lady friend. She is one of two friends who knows I'm Spider-Man so I decide hey, might as well show her some cool stuff. So we go back to the compound to show her the lab where I work on my gear. I should probably mention it is also Tony's private lab. We share it. We work on all the Avengers gear in there together, me and him and sometimes Bruce. Anyway. I had just finished showing her a cool prototype for a new web shooter I came up with and I mean we're friends and all, but things started to get a little friendlier if you can pick up what I'm throwing down here."

Sean's jaw drops, not expecting this kind of story, "Oh my God!"

"Yeah. So I'm suitably uhhh... Distracted. And while I'm distracted she picks up one of the prototypes and next thing I know she's got me by the wrists. Stuck in my own goddamn webs."

Sean laughs loudly and encourages him to continue, which he does so after blowing his nose and sipping the milk.

"And these things you can't get out of unless you get cut out or you let them dissolve two hours later. So I trusted this girl, and put my guard down -that was my first mistake - and she caught me literally with my pants down, stuck in my own goddamn spiderwebs."

He plucks at his t-shirt in discomfort again and fans at his face with his free hand.

"At this point I'm getting a bit concerned, but she's not stopping so I give her the benefit of the doubt. Fast forward..." Spider-Man hedges, being purposely vague to preserve a little modesty. Spider-Man looks at the camera and his eye lens gives a sly wink, shakes his head and gives an embarrassed laugh before he continues.

"Fast forward a while and she collects herself. Then-"

He needs a moment to shake his head with a rueful smile. "THEN, she says, 'later', and waltzes out the door. As she turned, I caught her smirk. She smirked! She thought this was hilarious!"

Spider-Man is half yelling as the studio laughs and he's shaking his hands in angry emphasis. "So now I'm glued to the fucking lab completely in the buff for who knows how much longer until these things dissolve, and I honestly have no idea if anybody is going to come by the lab at any point and end up catching me. And any of them can, there's prototypes for every Avenger in there so there's a chance they might wander in."

He takes a drink and blows his nose.

"So after an indeterminate amount of time, I am released from my prison. It is bittersweet. Don't get me wrong. It's been a great night-" He pauses to laugh embarrassingly and his lips give a wry quirk, "-but that was some of the scariest shit I've lived through. While I was trapped I eventually started hearing footsteps up and down the hall and I was absolutely terrified someone was about to come in. And it isn't until I'm halfway back to my room when I remember Tony has cameras, like, everywhere. So back I go. Hacked in and deleted it, thankfully."

As the laughter simmers down, Tony from off camera yells angrily, "I can't believe you desecrated my lab!"

Spider-Man laughs and puts his hands up in surrender, "I'm sorry Tony! I'm so sorry! It won't happen again!"

He has to suddenly duck an incoming half empty water bottle aimed for his head that Tony had obviously thrown.

"Don't think I'll let this stand, Underoos. I know what we're watching for Avengers movie night tomorrow."

"Oh God, no! I deleted it!" Spider-Man exclaims in horror.

"I have backups."

"I deleted those too."

"We'll see."

Spider-Man bites his bottom lip, half grinning and half apprehensive.

Sean grins and asks, "Did you get them all?"

"Yes," he confirms confidently. After a moment he whispers uncertainly, "I think so."

"So," Sean says gleefully after a moment, "There's potentially a Spider-Man sex tape floating around somewhere?"

Spider-Man flushes a dark red and laughs in embarrassment, "I mean I'm pretty sure I deleted everything. But potentially, I guess?"

"I'll let you know," Tony quips and they laugh again.

Spider-Man puts his face in his hands and groans in embarrassment, "I can't believe I confessed that. I can just see the headlines once people see this video."

"And your lady friend?" Sean follows up.

"Oh we're fine. I snarked at her the next day and she smirked a lot and honestly I should have expected as much from her. Don't worry, we're still friends!"

"Just friends?" Sean needles.

"... Close friends." Spider-Man hedges after a moment.

"How's she going to react to you telling us all this?"

"Oh, she'll be endlessly amused and probably take a screenshot of me in distress to print out and leave for me to find in various places."

"She's terrifying," Tony mutters, but the camera picks it up.

"Oh yeah?" Sean perks up, looking for more information.

"She's... Something else. She'll probably rule the world some day. And that's all I'll say about that topic for safety," Spider-Man concludes that line of questioning.

"Fair enough. Moving on to the final battle! You've come so far! I'm proud of you, Spidey!"

Sean picks up the last bottle of hot sauce and starts shaking it and Spider-Man bites his lip in apprehension. "Oh no, I know what happens next. I don't like this."

Sean laughs and continues as he opens the bottle and dabs a little on his wing, "Now Spidey, this is called 'the last dab', as you know. For the viewers at home, it's called 'the last dab' because it's tradition around here to put a little extra on the last wing, but you don't have to, we won't judge if you can't handle it."

Spider-Man doesn't hesitate, "Yes you will. You'll totally judge. Hit me!" and holds out his hand for the bottle.

Sean laughs as Spider-Man dabs extra on his wing and agrees, "I mean yeah, we totally would."

"I'm not a spider wimp, I'm not!" Spider-Man jokes in a petulant tone.

Spider-Man takes a deep breath and tries to gather his courage. "God, I'd rather get yeeted into the Hudson again. At least I'd stop sweating."

Sean snorts as Spider-Man devours the wing quickly before he can overthink it. Spider-Man swallows and immediately shouts in distress and starts gulping milk.

Sean laughs and asks his final question quickly, "It's been so great having you on here today, getting to know you a little better. Obviously, all we have really seen of you these past years are the small clips of you swinging or fighting, so it's been great getting to talk to you. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is surprised in that you're much different than we expected you to be. Honestly you're a pretty normal guy, just like the rest of us, except sticky."

Spider-Man doesn't pause in guzzling the milk but gives him a thumbs up in agreement.

Sean continues, "I know there was a lot we didn't cover, that we can't cover for various reasons, but we appreciate you giving us a bit of a peek at the real guy behind the mask. My final question for you is: can you tell us a few fun facts about yourself that we don't already know?"

"Uhhh," Spider-Man choked through the burning pain, "Uhhh... God it's like I swallowed fire. Literal fire. I can't even think."

Sean snickers and blinks rapidly, trying to hide his reaction to the hottest sauce as he finally shows that he is affected.

Spider-Man sniffles and wipes his nose and continues, gasping, "I invented the formula for the synthetic webs by myself, and the gadgets I use to shoot them, long before I met Tony. I used to dumpster dive, that's where I got most of my components."

He drinks more milk and coughs before blowing his nose. "Oh my god it hurts. Food shouldn't hurt. Oh this is awful. Do you hate me, Sean? Is that it? Is this your way of telling me you hate me? I keep New York safe and this is the thanks I get?"

Sean laughs and tries to deny it, "No! No way!"

Spider-Man accepts a fresh glass of milk and chokes out a thank you before continuing, "I, uhhh, I dunno, I enjoy photography."

"As in you like looking at photography or you like taking photos?" Sean asks.

"Well both, but yeah taking photos. I've posted a couple on my social media but I'll start posting more if anyone is interested in seeing that kind of stuff."

"Yeah totally, I bet you get some unique shots being able to get places other people can't," Sean enthuses.

Spider-Man nods, drinking again.

"Uhhh, I'm arachnophobic," he admits, fishing to come up with more anecdotes.

"Wait, what?! Dude, you're SPIDER man! How can you be arachnophobic?!" Sean questions incredulously.

"Ugh, well I can't say too much since it involves Spider-Man's origin story and I don't want people trying to recreate it or something and end up getting hurt, but it was an accident and involved spiders and agonizing pain and almost dying so I think I'm a little entitled to a bit of arachnophobia, don't you?"

Sean is wide eyed as he agrees.

"And on that note, congratulations on making it through. It's been a struggle for you, considering your enhanced senses, but you pulled through like a champ. It should be no surprise to anyone, since you don't know how to quit! It's been an honor meeting you, and hopefully you'll consider coming back someday when you've unmasked and we can have another go."

"Uhhhh, I'll think about it," he hedges.

Sean laughs and points to the cameras, "This camera, this camera, or this camera, let the people know what you've got going on in your life."

"Right, well, I support a number of local charities and they're always incredibly in need, so please consider donating some money. And if you don't have that, maybe donate some of your time. You can find a list of these charities in the description below, and at the end of this video. I'll also be attending a fundraiser for orphaned children at the end of the month. We're going to hang out, take some pictures, have a bit of fun. You can also find information on that in the description, and I hope you'll consider dropping by. Come say hi and tell me how much of a wimp I'm not."

Sean laughs, "Thanks for joining us! See you next time on First We Feast, this is Sean Evans."

The camera cuts to show sometime shortly after the interview, Spider-Man, Tony, and Sean standing around chatting and laughing as the crew walks around cleaning the set. Tony is telling a story involving Spider-Man getting distracted during a mission and body slamming the side of a brick building while web slinging. Sean erupts in laughter and Spider-Man playfully shoves Tony before fishing his ringing phone out of his pocket. He answers it and they curiously watch him.

"Ohhh, hey Nat!" He nervously greets the caller. He pauses while the caller talks and he responds, "Of course we're still on. I'm sorry, I totally lost track of time. I'll-" He gets cut off by the caller and he listens nervously, tugging on his collar. "Errr... No. No of course not. Wait... No. Yes of course. I-" he cuts off what he was about to say and looks at his phone. He looks up at Sean and Tony and his eye lenses widen comically.

"Oh man, she's pissed. I'm late."

Tony smirks, "Nice knowing ya."

Tony and Spider-Man then pose for a group picture with the entire crew, Spider-Man making his signature hand pose. The video goes black as Spider-Man and Sean shake hands and the audio lingers with Spider-Man saying, "Ten out of ten, would not do again," and Sean and Tony laughing.

__________________

Comments:

AceSummer well he's not wrong. that's good internet.

Mrs Spiderman I think I'm in love

Spidey fan aaaaaaaaabs

Sophi Wow he's not at all like I imagined

Bebeetch Spidey on that seventh wing LOL

Benticat RIP Black Widow gonna thigh choke him out

Vistale I would pay good money to watch a Spider-Man bondage sex tape

TweetNinja Hmm it never really occurred to me why he didn't sign the accords

Flameswell Oh man I can't wait for him to finally sign the accords and unmask

PinkJan "hypothetically" lol

dodododododo Guys I just had a crazy idea. I think he might be a student

Nervous Nelly Whatever gave you that idea? Lol

I am a banana High school or college?

dodododododo Probably college. A high schooler can't be that kick-ass can they?

My name Jeff I wonder what he looks like under that mask

MemeLord Probably deformed

waaaaat no I doubt it, he says he hides to protect his friends and family. I can understand that.

Marry me Spides I'd say he's pretty handsome actually, look at that jawww

Kuro2cool So he can do a few tricks, that doesn't mean he should be doing this shit. That's what we pay professionals good money for. He's not a cop.

Benny Yeah and at least they're trained

Roseawayee I dunno, Spidey seems to know what he's doing

Kuro2cool until he's not and gets someone killed

Roseawayee Sometimes the police just isn't enough

EpicChikk omg spiderman is my fave

FunHi Spides once stopped a mugger from taking my purse! He was super nice and sat with me for at least 20 minutes until I calmed down and stopped crying and then helped me get a cab to the hospital. He even paid for it! I love you Spides!

LawnMoon dat ass tho

Margethe Awww blushy spiderman is the sweetest

VanderKit He's so normal, I wasn't expecting that

metawank spiderman sucks

IronManIsMyDaddy Yay iron man made an appearance!

IAmIronStan Anyone else think it's super sweet that Tony came with Spidey for his interview? #friendgoals

The not so incredible Hulk Get Tony on hot ones next!!

IronManIsMyDaddy Yessssss

IAmIronStan I mean he didn't even flinch at da bomb though, when he finished Spidey's wing. It would probably just be a normal interview but with a snack

Spidermenace241 I still think he's a menace

MMM whatcha say J Jonah is that you

JrWaves4 I'm so jealous Sean got to meet him in person

crazycatlady18 I wanna hear his real voice!

MajorFraser There's a couple videos floating around from when he first started and it captured him speaking a little. It was a few years ago so he sounds a lot younger but he doesn't sound too different from the modulator in my opinion

crazycatlady18 I wonder if Sean will ever come across civilian Spidey in the wild? Can't you just imagine Spidey making eye contact and smirking and Sean just getting this look of realization on his face that he's looking at the real deal before the crushing defeat sets in when he realizes he can do nothing about it

GoobleRay Those wings hit him harder than rhino lol

Juztinny Hahaha

TaraSweetie Shit did you see Tony's face after Spides told that story about him getting crushed by Vulture? He looked so guilty

CrownBillion Who'd have thought Spidey was into the kinky shit

Softy4Spidey think his lady friend is a girlfriend or just a fuck buddy?

CrownBillion doesn't matter, he'll never tell us

DJTwinkle I've always wondered if he ever used his webs for bondage

LolaShun Lol wtf dude

wHeN wIlL yOu LeArN Woo Spidey! Get some!

CrownBillion Yeah, was not expecting that story. I dunno, always thought he was too wholesome for that hahaha

Softy4Spidey for what, sex? he's human too, just like us. i'm sure he has needs

CrownBillion I guess I always pictured him fighting crime 24/7 lol

ChicMoto Wow I had no idea he did so much volunteer work, but I guess I shouldn't be surprised. He's too good for this world and you can fight me on that

ChampionFeline he's a precious little bean

ForShark "sleep is for the weak"

onesbuma00 mood!

henrytech I wonder what he meant when he said things got scary real with the Vulture

MUSTCONSTRUCTADDITIONALPYLONS I dunno but must have been bad to scare this guy. He keeps cracking jokes even when staring down rocket launchers

JuzzFizz He also mentioned that one enemy knew his real identity and that he couldn't say more about his conflict with Vulture because it might compromise his identity. I wonder if it got scary because Vulture found out who he was

henrytech Shit that's terrifying

JuzzFizz And he wouldn't be able to say how he found out because if it was his next door neighbor or something people could just look up where Toomes used to live

henrytech Plus then other criminals could give Vulture the shake down in prison and find out who he is if they know that he knows

BannerBaby Yeah I wonder why that one enemy who knows hasn't told everyone his real identity. Isn't that what evil people do when they find out a secret identity?

henrytech Maybe Spides threatened him to stay quiet?

PenguinBad I mean maybe, but that doesn't seem his style

TotallyNotDeadpool At least in this universe he doesn't strut down the street making weird finger guns, trying to impress women

Cordolicious What the fuck? Where did that even come from?

TotallyNotDeadpool Just saying. That would be weird.

#fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #spiderman #jenniboo311 #hot ones avengers #social butterfly Spidey #humour #peter parker #secret identity #iron man #tony stark

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shieldsecretbase · 5 years

Text

The Party - peter parker x reader

words: 1,080

summary: after being home for a day and stuck at a graduation party for your cousin, you were beginning to struggle. that was until your best friends decided to surprise you at the party and help you through it.

warning: none? i think?

A/N: so this is like a slight peter parker x reader and more of a fluff of some of the Avengers caring for you and being there when you need it most. also sorry if this sucks!! it’s my first one in a while and i wrote it at my cousin’s grad party today when i was upset. shoutout to @http-peter-parker for helping me with it!

***

The party was in full swing and you sat there silently listening to your family talk. No one had said much to you and the only thing they had was teasing remarks that hurt harder than they thought. So there you sat just quietly listening to the conversation and texting in your group chat. You weren’t an Avenger, not even close. Rather, you were once Tony’s intern your freshman and sophomore year of college and then he saw your potential and what you could do. Now as a junior, you were part of the team on the technical side of things. And the designs. And occasionally the one who made sure everything looked pretty. They had been blowing up your phone since you left yesterday, asking about your opinion on various designs and equations and you did your best to respond but it was hard when your family didn’t want you on your phone but still wouldn’t communicate. So there you were getting annoyed at the teasing and missing your friends and school.

“YN what, you can’t talk all of a sudden? You don’t wanna communicate with us?” your uncle asked, leaning forward on his elbows.

“I - well -“ you couldn’t finish the sentence as you stumbled over the words. It didn’t matter anymore as the sound of a car came zipping down the road and stopped before the house. Parking in a free spot in the line of cars, everyone turned to state at the new arrival. No one recognized who it was, no one knew anyone in the family owned an Audi, no one knew who was piling out of the car. Except you. You knew them like the back of your hand and your heart raced to see them. Forgetting the world around you, you stood and made your way to the four people that were making their way towards you.

“YN!” Tony called, smiling at you. Behind him, Peter was holding a coffee for you, knowing how exhausted you were. Steve and Nat were there as well, coming along for the ride. Or maybe for support knowing how rough you had it home. Either way, you were grateful to see them. “I hope you didn’t start the party without us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. A grin on your lips as you ran up to them and hugged Tony tightly. It was the first time you smiled that evening, the first time you looked happy all night. “The hell are you guys doing here?”

“We heard you could use some company,” Steve smiled, cap and sunglasses on as always.

“And you could use a coffee,” Peter said, holding out your favorite iced coffee.

You grinned at Peter and took the coffee, kissing him on the cheek before sipping the much needed caffeine. The Spidey boy blushed slightly, glancing around at the others watching them but ignoring it as soon as his eyes fell back on you.

Behind you, everyone had gone silent to stare at the newcomers. Whispers began to spread across each table and those standing around as they saw who it really was. The Tony Stark had crashed their party. The world famous Iron Man followed by the super soldier everyone drooled over and the redhead they all knew not to cross. You had brought the Avengers to the graduation party. Ignoring everyone, you took Peter’s hand and led the way to empty seats by your mom and brother. Everyone stared at the five of you, most not saying anything and hoping for you to introduce them. You ignored your uncle from before and your various cousins. Conversing with your friends. Finally one of your cousins decided she had enough.

“Your Iron Man right?” she asked, standing between you and the man that had practically adopted you.

“Yes,” he responded, words cut short. He knew that cousin, knew how you felt about each of your family members. How that one thought she was better than everyone else. How she constantly shoved her accomplishments in your face.

“I’m a big fan. You know I work down the block from your tower,” she continued, ignoring the fact that he didn’t care.

“If you work by it you would know I sold it. You know who works at my new lab? YN. She’s doing her own research.”

“Oh, does she?” Her cousin sounded annoyed at the fact that he was too bent on talking about YN. “Is she an Avenger as well?”

Before you could answer, Steve cut you off. “She is. She’s an essential part of the team.”

You didn’t know how to react to that and neither did your family. Everyone around you just stared at the information they took in. From then on it was a series of questions and concerns and comments and opinions none of you wanted to hear. Each of you had slowly but surely made your way to the empty backyard where various games had been set up and ready to be played but long forgotten due to the dessert having been brought out. And just like your family, you guys ignored the games and sat in the grass. Steve, Nat and Tony deep in conversation as you leaned your head against Peter’s shoulder.

“Thanks for coming out and saving me from this monstrosity of a party,” you said softly, trying to let the other three hear you.

Peter wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side. “Of course, you know we could do anything for you.”

“Yeah but I know today was supposed to be test day and the fact that you and Tony gave that up so I wouldn’t break down at this party is really sweet.” Taking your head off his shoulder, she kissed his cheek. “I don’t know what I would without you all.”

Peter chuckled and kissed the top of your head. “We’re lost without you yn, you mean more than you think.”

Smiling, you hid your blush as you leaned against him, relaxing in his arms and listening to the others talk. His embrace was warm and she felt at ease being with the four of them. Without them, you didn’t know what would have happened at that party. Your sanity had been fading with each hour being home but at that moment, being wrapped in Peter’s arms and listening to the others complain about how psycho your family was, you knew how lucky you were to have them in your life.

#peter parker x reader #peter parker au #peter parker social media au #spiderman #spiderman x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #avengers imagine #avengers x reader #avenger preferences #avengers

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you-guys--are-losers · 5 years

Note

Your version of the upside down Spidey kiss? :)

//Ooh, yes! I know that I have gotten multiple requests for this prompt, so excited to finally write it!

By the way, if anyone knows who originally created the art below, please let me know! I can’t seem to find who it is and I want to give credit. ;)

A Bit Tangled Up

Summary: When the opportunity presents itself, MJ decides to try her hand at the classic “Spider-Man” kiss.

Warnings: Language, Second-Hand Embarrassment ;)

Word Count: 3,281

Characters: Michelle Jones x Peter Parker

“Did you know that there’s a species of ant named after Manhattan?”

MJ’s question reaches Peter’s ear through his headset, and he can practically picture her face as she says it. She’s probably leaning back in her worn desk chair, peering at the laptop that rests on top of her crossed legs. That’s the position he most often finds her in, after all, when he returns to her quiet room in Queens after a night of patrolling. It’s peaceful, really, to know what to expect when he comes back, and the reminder is sort of nice.

At least, it would be if he weren’t trying to fight off three different amateur thieves at once.

“Couldn’t have picked a better time, MJ,” Peter responds, his voice slightly flustered as he dodges one poorly-aimed shot, then another.

The man holding the gun appears confused, and his brow furrows beneath the stupid ski-mask he is wearing. “What did you say, asshole?” the man snaps. Though Peter can tell he’s trying to sound gruff, there is an uncertain undertone in his voice.

Peter glances up to focus on him, pausing in his task of selecting a web from Karen. “I wasn’t talking to you. It’s rude to listen in on other peoples’ conversations, man.” With that, Peter sends a taser web his way, and the man’s body spasms before he drops to the ground.

“They found it in Manhattan, and they realized that they hadn’t seen the species before.” MJ’s nonchalant voice enters his ear again, causing a mixed wave of amusement and exasperation to wash over Peter. “Guess what they named it?”

“Um…” Peter’s mind scrambles to try to figure it out as he continues in his task.

One of the other men makes a grab for the fallen gun, which Peter easily webs into his own hand. “Hey, man, really? Taking someone else’s toys isn’t cool.” Peter takes the opportunity to web the man to the ground.

MJ’s voice resumes in Peter’s headset. “Don’t want to alarm you or anything, but there’s a stacked guy like three times your height with a meat cleaver on your left.”

Now, it’s Karen who is speaking in Peter’s ear. “Activate Trochanter Protocol?”

“Go for it. Thanks, Karen,” Peter pants. As he turns, four sets of massive, iron legs erupt from the suit, smacking away the attacker with so much force that the man is flung across the alleyway. “The Big Ant-ple?”

“Come on, Bug Boy, I’m disappointed in you.”

“It’s not exactly the best time,” Peter points out as he turns to face his fallen foe.

“How do you expect to handle decathlon if you can’t perform under pressure?” He can hear a hint of amusement in her voice now, and Peter grins as the guy pulls out a knife and charges him.

“I think I’ll manage,” he responds, raising an eyebrow. Peter raises the legs threateningly, but he makes no move to charge the thug. Instead, he allows his attacker to come to him. When the man is inches away, Peter reacts with lightning-fast reflexes. He grabs the knife between two fingers, using his super-strength to stop the blade in its tracks.

Peter watches as the man, who is still holding the blade, blanches behind the ski mask. “Hey, man, have you ever stuck a fork in an outlet?” Peter questions.

The thug’s eyes widen, but that’s all the warning Karen needs. An electrical charge leaves the fingertips of Peter’s suit, traveling through the blade and then to Peter’s attacker, flowing through his body. Peter allows the charge to flow through his body for a few seconds before letting go. The man falls to the ground, and the blade clatters to the pavement.

“I haven’t, no, but I did make a sculpture involving a fork and a toaster to illustrate the delicate balance between genius and insanity. Does that count?” Peter might be imagining it, but he could swear that MJ’s voice is slightly more relaxed now that he is out of danger.

“I mean, your brain isn’t fried,” Peter reasons, “so I don’t think so. But I appreciate the effort.”

Now that the three are down, there isn’t such a dire need for speed. However, Peter does want to be out of here before the authorities arrive, so he is swift in webbing the cleaver and the gun to the wall.

Once he has finished, Peter leaps into the air, attaching his web to the antenna on top of one of the buildings nearby. Once he has shot up into the air, it is easy swinging, and Peter begins to take the familiar route to MJ’s room.

“ManhattAnt.”

Peter furrows his brow against the cold as he swings into the quiet of MJ’s street. “What did you just say?”

“ManhattAnt. What they named the species of ant.”

A snort escapes Peter as he spots her apartment building. “You’re kidding,” he responds as he lands on the roof of the shorter building next to hers. The gravel shifts slightly beneath his feet, but he stays completely steady as he spots her window, which is eye level with him. Peter shoots a thin stream of web towards her window, nowhere near strong enough to carry him. It is just enough for a little “thunk” to be heard.

There is a rustling of lavender curtains, and a moment later, the window opens. MJ slides the glass pane all the way up, raising an eyebrow. Peter can’t keep his heart from skipping a beat when he sees her. Her messy curls are pulled up into a loose bun, and she’s wearing those glasses with the thick black rims that Peter secretly loves.

“Do you really think I would joke about something this serious, Parker?” MJ prods, raising an eyebrow. “Come on in. I’ve got your glass of bug spray waiting for you.”

MJ moves away from the window, making it easy for Peter to make the quick leap onto her building and to slide in through the window. From there, Peter drops onto her floor and slides the window shut before turning to face her room.

As much as Peter loves coming back to his house, he thinks that MJ’s might be his favorite place to be after patrol. The soft, comforting gray of her walls paired with her gentle salt lamps and the abundance of activist posters, sweet-smelling teas, and comfortable places to sit make her room the perfect contrast to the overstimulating city he spends his nights defending.

It’s not often that he comes here. Normally, she joins Ned in Peter’s room, but Ned had to go on a family trip tonight, so here they are. Peter is perfectly alright with that… In fact, maybe a little bit too alright. He’s been trying to keep the thought out of his mind, but lately, when he’s found out he’s going to be spending time alone with MJ, Peter hasn’t felt the least upset.

In fact, Peter might look forward to spending alone time with his other best friend a little bit too much.

MJ has seated herself in her spinning chair again, though her laptop rests on her bed now as she turns to face him. The chair is still spinning slightly, and one of her legs, clad in Ravenclaw sweatpants, dangles loose. Peter can see a pair of fuzzy socks poking out from under the pants, and for some reason, a twinge of fondness enters him.

“It’s lavender tonight,” she hums, gesturing to a mug perched on the edge of her desk beside a plate of pumpkin bread. She’s holding a mug of what Peter can tell is the same tea.

The warm ceramic feels good in Peter’s hand, even through the suit. Peter lifts up the bottom of his mask in order to sip it, and he lets out a hum as the warm liquid washes down his parched throat. “Is anyone home?” he asks, curious about how soon he has to leave.

“Not tonight,” MJ replies. “Mom took Sonny to see a movie for his birthday, so- did you just drink that whole thing?”

Peter’s mechanical white eyes widen over the now-empty mug, and he offers a sheepish shrug as he sets down the burgundy mug. “It was good,” he defends. “Sweet.”

“That’s because I put a shit-ton of honey in it, loser,” she retorts as he moves on to the pumpkin bread, scarfing it down nearly as fast. “You know, that’s only supposed to work on flies. Not spiders.”

“Sugar is sugar,” Peter replies through the last bit of pumpkin bread, setting down the plate.

“And you take your tea like juice,” MJ responds, settling back in her seat. She takes another sit before adding, “I think you finished that in under a minute.”

“Thanks, MJ,” Peter responds, pulling his mask back down. “Seriously. I know you don’t have to do any of this.”

“Please, Parker. I’d much rather sit on the headset than actually do my homework. We both know that I live to watch Flash’s face when I finish it in ten minutes.”

“You know, one of these days he’s going to figure out that you just memorize the answers that you write out beforehand,” Peter points out, reclining against the wall.

“But it’s so much more fun to let him think I’m a robot,” MJ replies, arching an eyebrow. She sets her half-full mug on her desk, then, peering at him. “So was it a good night, then? All in all? Or did having my genius on the other side of the headset distract you?”

Under her gaze, Peter’s skin seems to crawl beneath the suit. He takes a breath then, glancing towards the window. Suddenly, Peter is in possession of more nervous energy than he knows what to do with, and he needs to move or be consumed on it. Peter turns to her wall, allowing his fingers to stick to it, then unstick.

“Yeah,” he says, trying for nonchalance. “I mean, I got the bad guys, you know? All in a day’s work.” Peter sticks his fingers to the wall again, beginning to climb effortlessly. At least, this way, his back is turned towards her. And besides, he’s done this sort of thing with her and with Ned before while hanging out. It isn’t that weird.

MJ lets out an amused puff of air, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not good at that part, Parker.”

By then, Peter has reached the ceiling of her room, where he is suspended by his fingers and the tips of his toes. Peter peers at her, upside down, and his white eyes on the mask widen conspicuously. “I- What?” Peter stammers. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

MJ leans back in the chair, peering at him over the rims of the glasses he likes so much. “That part of superhero-ing,” MJ hums, arching an eyebrow as amusement creeps into her tone. “The part where you have to act all cool and humble and pretend you don’t care.”

“Pfft, I… What?” Peter’s voice rises to the point of almost cracking near the end of the statement, and he allows a thin stream of web to attach him to her ceiling so that he can slowly lower himself, suspended. “I don’t– What are you talking about? I don’t do that-”

“You do, Parker, and you suck at it.” MJ tucks a stray strand of hair away from her face with long, slender fingers, a little motion that succeeds in further erasing every logical thought from Peter’s mind. “It’s alright, though.”

Peter lets out a sharp breath, struggling to control his mess of flustered emotions. Just when he thinks he might have himself at a manageable level of stupidity, though, she says the one thing that could possibly take him right back to square one.

“It’s pretty cute.”

Everything that follows happens so fast. Peter has lost control over everything– including his webbing.

The strands suspending him to the ceiling release, sending him falling sharply. In an effort to keep himself from falling, Peter shoots his web back towards the ceiling, but he is falling at an angle. His efforts at securing himself accomplish two things: one, they actually secure him, and two, Peter succeeds in trapping himself in a tangled cocoon of web.

Maybe this is some sort of twisted karma, Peter reasons as he dangles six feet above MJ’s floor. If this is what every single bad guy he’s webbed feels like, then he understands why they all seem so pissed off. But Peter doesn’t have much time to explore that thought, because at the moment there is only one subject that is pushing itself to the forefront of his mind.

MJ.

MJ thinks he’s cute. Or does she? Wait– did she only mean that his attempt at humility was cute, and not the rest of him? Maybe she had been making fun of him, the way that they always did, as a part of their banter. But then why would she say that, of all things?

And more importantly, why had it had such an effect on him?

As the thoughts about MJ dance around Peter’s mind, he forgets to think about one terribly, crucially important detail: MJ herself. It is not until the webbing turns him towards the desk chair that Peter realizes his mistake. Because MJ is not curled up at her desk with a computer perched in her lap, sipping at tea.

Instead, she is standing from her chair with a slight smirk on her lips, and she is taking a step towards him.

“Um, MJ, I-I…” Peter stammers, sure that his cheeks are the color of his suit beneath the Iron Spider mask. “That was totally intentional. Definitely. And, um, if you could maybe just help me-”

“You want to come down from your cocoon?” MJ prods, her eyes glimmering with a wicked sort of amusement. “Well, it looks like you’ve got yourself in a tangle. I could just leave you here, you know… I mean, I’ve had weirder things hanging in my room before than a Spiderboy. ”

Peter winces. “Right. Bug puns. Um…” Peter is having a hard time focusing, however, because even upside-down, his best friend is the prettiest girl he has ever seen. And right now, dangling at eye-level with her, he has no way of looking away from the deep brown eyes that seem to pore into him from behind her glasses lenses.

She’s his friend, one of his best friends. He can’t be feeling this way about her– what if she doesn’t feel the same?

“Peter, your heartbeat is reaching an alarming rate,” Karen’s voice says loudly in his ear. “Would you like me to call May Parker and inform her that-”

“No, don’t do that!” Peter exclaims. The words are frantic, panicked as they tear themselves from his lips. MJ stops in her tracks, eyes widening slightly. There is confusion in them now, and Peter is even more flustered than he was before.

“Parker, are you okay?” MJ says slowly. “I was kidding, but if you need me to help you down, I can-”

“No,” he interrupts immediately, blinking rapidly. “No, it’s not you, I wasn’t talking to… Um…” Words are flitting through his mind too fast to say, creating a buzz that is only more distracting. MJ is frozen now, and she seems just as unsure about what to do as he is.

“Look, MJ, I…” Peter struggles for words, his heart hammering wildly in his chest. “I wasn’t expecting you to say… That.”

MJ blinks once, then twice. Then, however, a little smile tugs at the corner of her lips. It’s hesitant, and it’s shy, but it’s unmistakable. “You didn’t expect me to tell you that you were cute.”

So she did mean it that way, then. She meant that he was cute, and she’d said it to him. And of course Peter had panicked like a dork, and now there was no hope of recovering his pride from this.

But maybe he can rein it in. Maybe if he says something profound, or smooth, he can get this situation back in his favor…

“Um… Nope.”

Getting those two measly words out takes more energy than fighting off all three of the men had.

MJ’s smirk returns, and she shakes her head slightly. For a moment, there is quiet between them, and then a quiet laugh leaves her. Peter stiffens at the sound, but when it washes over him, his whole body relaxes. One laugh, then another, and then she turns her gaze to the ceiling as if she is searching for words.

“You are,” she informs him with mirth-filled eyes, “such a…”

“Loser.”

Peter doesn’t have to wait to know the proper term. Beneath the mask, a lopsided grin of his own twists his mouth. When he finishes her sentence, those dark, playful eyes come to meet his own, upside down. However, the moment that their eyes meet, something in the mood shifts.

MJ’s grin fades, and so does Peter’s own. For a moment, Peter forgets the stupidity of the situation he is in. He is too busy being wrapped up in the web that is MJ, in her sharp quips and her wicked smirks and her deep, dark eyes.

All amusement drains out of MJ’s face as she straightens herself up, blinking at him from across the space that divides them. For a moment, the air between them feels electric, and Peter is frozen in her current.

Then, MJ takes a step towards him. Another, and another, and Peter is frozen in place, upside down as she increases their proximity. MJ’s feet bring her closer to him, so close that Peter can’t breathe.

And then, MJ’s face is so close that their foreheads are almost touching. Peter is close enough to count her dark lashes, to study every twist of her thick curls, to memorize the rise and fall of her cupid’s bow. His heart pounds out of control, but now Karen has the good sense to stay quiet.

A tangled mess of emotions sweeps over Peter: awe, panic, hope, the works. They simmer together and bubble over, pouring out of his lips as a stammered, “MJ, you-”

“Shh,” MJ hums. Her dark eyes seem to scour the mechanical eyes of the mask, and slowly, her fingers rise to brush against the line of his jaw. Peter doesn’t realize what she is doing until she has lifted the mask, gathering it to just below his nose. Peter draws in a sharp breath as the cool air washes over the lower half of his face.

MJ’s fingers, soft and cool, brush against the corner of his lips, and a shiver goes down Peter’s spine. This close, MJ smells like lemon and lavender tea, and her soft, cooling touch is enough to send his skin tingling. His lips part slightly to speak, though Peter is not sure what he plans to say.

A long, slender finger comes to rest on Peter’s lips. MJ raises an eyebrow at him through the mask, her eyes meeting his own. “Shut up, loser,” she breathes, and then her eyes flutter shut. Before Peter can disobey her, MJ closes the distance, bringing her lips to rest atop his own.

MJ’s hands rise to cradle his face, and she arches her back as their lips move together. Peter is not sure how long they remain their, lips moving, exploring in the quiet of MJ’s room.

All he knows is that MJ tastes like honey, and now Peter understands why a creature would be willing to take its last breath in hope of just one taste.

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