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tonydadisbestdad · 4 years

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It’s Positive

Peter ParkerxReader

Dad!Tony

Word Count: 1,987

Summary: Pregnant by accident and dad tony finds out

A/N: this is stupid but I wanted to write something dumb so here it is. Sorry if formating it weird. I’m posting from my iPad bc I can’t be bothered to use my computer rn but it would have made it worth it if I had bc I can’t make this look how I want to on “mobile”. Whatever. Also sorry I haven’t written in ages, as some of you know, I work more than 40 hours a week and don’t normally get home until after 8 pm and am tired as hell. But since I’m fiinally quarentining (is that even how you spell that is it even a word?) myself I decided to try some writing instead of watching hours of tik tok videos. Enjoy! Sorry for my rant.

Perspiration collected on your forehead as you rode the elevator. Pain twinges in your abdomen as the pressure begins to become too much.

You had to pee. Of course you had to pee. You drank half a gallon of water when the thought occurred to you.

You ran through the penthouse, clutching your purse protecting the contents from jumping out, praying your bladder would not release it’s contents before you were seated on that throne.

Nervousness overtook you as you shut and locked your bathroom door behind you. You riffled through your bag for the thing you'd just returned from buying.

With shaking hands you unpackaged it.

After waiting the designated time, plus 10 minutes out of fear, you finally worked up the courage to look at it.

Your heart sank seeing the positive symbol. Your 19 years of life suddenly feeling like it all just ended.

You couldn't believe how absolutely stupid you were.

Grabbing your phone from your bag, you sent a text. Knowing you wouldn't be able to have the conversation in person.

“Pete, I got a meeting to get to. Do you got the rest?” Tony asked. They were in the lab, working on another new device.

“Yeah Mr. Stark, I should have it done by the time you get back.” Peter answered.

Tony left with a quick see ya later and was gone. Peter on the other hand returned to working.

Until his phone went off. He saw it was from you and opened it. His stomach dropped. There was no way. You were joking with him. You had to be.

All the message was, was a picture of a pregnancy test box and 2 words. “It’s positive.”

He thought about that one night a few weeks ago that you spent together. It was an event night, both of you required to be there per Pepper.

You might not be of age but that didn’t stop you from drinking and Peter liked to take his off nights to enjoy himself some so he was drinking too and next thing either of you realized your innocent flirting that usually happened turned into high key sexual tension and with nothing to stop it, well you both took advantage of the situation in a deserted bathroom two floors below the event you should have still been at.

And now you were about to pay the ultimate consequence.

Your nerves grew as you waited for a response. You practically shot out of your skin when your bathroom door opened.

“Please tell me this is some fucked up joke,” Peter said, not even caring that he just walked right into your bathroom without even knocking.

“Pete-Peter I-,” you shook your head. “Why would I joke about something like this?!”

“I don’t know!” He wouldn’t meet your eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Retaliation for me fucking you in a bathroom at an event for your dad?”

“That’s all that was to you?” You asked quietly. Things just kept getting better and better. You sat down on the edge of your tub, you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were not going to cry right now.

“I-“ he tried to start but you stopped him.

“It wasn’t conventional or perfect but hell Peter it meat more to me than just a quick fuck.” Before you could even register the tears you were holding back slid down your cheeks. You shifted, your head going to your knees and your hands covering your head. It was getting hard to breathe and his silence was not a reassuring thing.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, sitting down on the floor in front of you. He pet your head.

“What are we going to do?” You sobbed.

“Hey,” he said, tugging you forward so gently, bringing you into his lap. He secured his arms around you. “We’ll figure it out, I promise. We don’t need to have all the answers right now. Okay? Let’s just take this a step at a time.”

“How are you not freaking out,” you asked, pulling back some to look at him.

He finally looked you in the eyes. “I’m terrified,” he admitted. “But I know we can get through this.”

You gave a hesitant nod.

He kissed your forehead and didn’t leave you the rest of the night.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/

The two of you tiptoed around the topic for 3 weeks before you were finding yourselves cornered by your dad.

“What’s going on with you two? You’ve been acting weird for a couple weeks now.” Tony stated. He’d called a team meeting but as soon as you arrived, Peter was already there, you discovered that no one else on the team was arriving.

Peter looked at you, you both knew he was a terrible liar when under pressure like this.

But you? You were a great liar. You learned from the best after all. You arched a brow at your dad. “What do you mean? How have we been acting weird?”

Your dad hummed. “Let’s see, the two of you get all jumpy when the other shows up. I keep catching the two of you whispering to each other whenever I’ve left you alone for a few minutes. There was the fact that at that banquet I had a few weeks ago the two of you disappeared for a while. Y/N you’re not eating normally, Peter everytime I ask you something you either jump out of a daze or I can’t get your attention at all. I can go on guys, so tell me. What’s going on?”

You leaned back in your chair. “Peter asked me out, we didn’t want to tell you, things are a little weird right now.”

Tony looked at you in surprise.

You prayed that as Peter did the same your dad wouldn’t notice or wouldn’t realize that the look he was giving you wasn’t the “oh my God you had to go along that route to avoid the worse one? You shoulda just told the truth and not lied!” Look.

“Oh,” Tony said, nonchalantly he added, “Here I thought you were pregnant.”

Your eyes went wide, fuck.

“What do you take me for, kid?” He asked. “Did you think the cleaning staff was going to not gossip about having found a pregnancy test in your bathroom trash?! That I wouldn’t find out about it?”

You took a shaky breath.

“I know when you’re lying, you can’t lie to the person that taught you to lie, Y/N. It doesn’t work.”

You had to try, “Well then why is Peter here if that’s what this is about?” Maybe you could get him off the hook.

Your dad’s face went blank. “Now you’re just insulting my intelligence. Of course it’s Peter’s! Kid’s been in love with you since before you two even met!”

Peter’s face went red as he twisted the computer chair he was in away from both of you.

You blushed lightly. “Dad stop!”

Tony sighed, finally he sat down in a chair across from you. “What was your plan?”

You glanced at Peter then down at the table. “I… we-we don’t have-have one.”

Tony reached across the table and took your hand in his. “Okay, that’s fine for now, sunshine. Whatever you decide, I'll support you. There’s options if you don’t want to keep the baby or if you do. I suggest though that you two figure out what this means for the two of you before you make any of those decisions first.”

Tears welled in your eyes.

Peter was looking off to the side but he had returned his chair to facing your dad. “Thanks Mr. Stark,” He added quietly.

Tony smiled at him. “If you hurt my daughter, Parker I will kill you and no one will find the body. Understand?”

Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat he nodded in response.

Tony stood, he leaned across the table and kissed your head. “Sorry I forced this out, but you two were driving me crazy. I’m here when you want to talk more baby girl.”

You nodded and wiped at your face.

Your dad left, leaving you with Peter and impending conversation about the child growing inside you and what your futures held.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/

“So,” Peter started after the two of you sat there for 10 minutes in silence after your dad left. “I… I think now would be a good time to have this conversation, Y/N. So, I’m gonna just lay everything I’m feeling about this out.”

You glanced at him, he’d scooched closer to you and faced you.

He took a breath and started. “Your dad wasn’t wrong. I… do love you. I just… this is all messed up, but you know, it’s me why would anything go the way it should go, right?”

You went to speak but he continued.

“I’m not ready to be a dad. But I’m willing to take the responsibility because of my actions if you want to keep this child and want to raise them together. Or if you want to do it on your own. Or if you want to give them up for adoption. Or just want me to-“

You turned your own chair to be facing him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

He relaxed some and hugged you back as best he could with the angle.

“Would it be alright if… if maybe we just start with a date first?” You hesitantly asked.

He let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, yeah please.”

“I don’t want to get rid of them. But with that being said, we have plenty of time to decide on what we want. And I just really want us to give being together a try before we make any life changing decisions.”

Peter nodded then kissed your cheek.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/

Of course your date went perfectly. As did the one after that, and the one after that and the, you get the point.

Peter went with you to your first doctor’s appointment and made sure he’d be there for all of them after that.

After that first ultrasound, well to say your minds were set on a decision was an understatement. You couldn’t believe you were so hesitant to want them.

Everything after that was a blur. You and Peter got closer, as did your expecting date.

Your dad and Pepper supported both of you the entire way. As well as Aunt May and the entire Avengers team.

You couldn’t have asked for more.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/

“Shh,” You whispered to the little girl. She giggled and held a tiny finger to her lips. The two of you poked your head through the cracked door.

A tuft of wavy brown hair stuck up everywhere from the pillow.

“Go ahead baby,” You whispered.

The little girl pushed the door open and ran for the bed. She jumped up, right on top of the man laying there. “Happy birthday, daddy!” Shouted as she sat on his back and shook his shoulders. “Wake up! Wake up! Mommy and I made you breakfast.”

You got into your side of the bed, set the plate down on your nightstand as Peter pretended to still be asleep.

He let out a loud fake snore.

“Daddy, wake up!”

You chuckled. “I think daddy might need some raspberries with his pancakes, Rory.”

Her eyes lit up. She smashed her face right into her daddy’s neck, making him flinch and laugh.

“Oh my I see how it is my girls wanna play games with me huh,” he scooped his little one up in his arms and raspberries her cheek before she could get away.

Rory squealed and struggled against him.

You laughed at the scene before you. But this caused both to stop, share a mischievous look before they’re both pouncing on you and giving you the raspberries now.

Which led to a full out tickle war, cold pancakes, and warm morning cuddles.

Tags: Wanna be tagged just ask!

@manchurian-barnes, @marrvelle-fics, @chloe-geoghegan1 , @buckysendoftheline ,

@peterparkerscamera , @esistmon , @httpmcrvel , @karlitabi-rrito rrito, @ximaginx

#peter x reader #reader x peter parker #peterparkerxreader #readerxpeterparker #peter parker x reader #dad!tony #dad!tonyxreader #dad tony #dad tony stark #readerstark #stark reader #marvel #jess tells you useless things

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kinetic-elaboration · 7 years

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May 15: Modern Miller 2.2

And for something completely different, I’m also still writing this, aka what fic by me looks like when I transfer my idle fictional-world fantasies onto the page without any filtering whatsoever.

This is three days’ worth of writing, which is why it’s so long. Literally no edits (or formatting? not sure) because I don’t care rn.

Previous parts: here, here, here, and also here.

Today’s characters: Miller, Gina, Bryan, and Harper.

Out loud, he says, "If you want the unloading done fast, send some people ahead on foot. They'll meet Bellamy there and get the boxes out of the truck as soon as he kills the engine. Or before."

"Good idea," Gina answers, then bites her lip and adds, "We should have enough people to spare. I called or texted just about everyone I know." She leads him into the kitchen, where the café's various pots, pans, dishes, utensils, and other kitchenware have already been half-scattered over the countertops. There's a pile of unassembled boxes in the corner, two or three assembled ones by the sink. "I started packing things up in here earlier, then got distracted. You can just continue where I left off and—"

She's cut off by the sound of the alley-side door opening and what sounds like at least two people walking down the short hall that leads from the back entrance to the kitchen.

"That's probably Bellamy," Gina decides, dusting off her hands for another round of direction-giving. "I'll talk to him about his truck and then he can help you."

Which is a good enough plan. Except that it isn't Bellamy coming down the hall. It's Harper, pulling her hair back into a messy braid as she walks, and, a half-step behind her, Bryan, who looks okay, neither buoyed by ready-to-work high spirits nor weighted down by end-of-an-era sadness, until he catches sight of Miller. Then he stops and just stares for one of those half-seconds that narrows the whole world down to one person and one thought, and that seems for this reason to stretch on so much longer than it actually does.

Miller stares back, open-mouthed, feeling like an idiot.

If the break-up had been angry, shouted words he can't take back and stomped-over bruised-up hard feelings, he'd spit out something like what's he doing here? right about now. Like how people act on tv. But as it is, the moment's just awkward and too-long. No one knows what to say. The four of them just stand there with unnatural spaces between them, looking at each other's faces and then looking away, not wanting to be caught staring and not daring to speak first.

"I—um, heard that it was all hands on deck," Harper says, after a handful of empty seconds have passed.

"It is," Miller answers. He figures it's his turn to speak, since her words were basically an apology to him, an abashed admittance that she'd fallen off the tightrope all friends of exes have to shuffle across, and he doesn't actually want her to feel bad. Even though his voice sounds, despite himself, hollow and dull.

Then he just thinks fuck it, and looks over, trying to catch Bryan's eye. Bryan looks back for one half-second, then drops his gaze down to his shoes. They have not spoken, called, texted, or contacted each other in any way in four full days, so this is the best indication he's had yet of how things are going to be. And it's just great.

"Bryan," Gina's saying, "you can help with the furniture—"

"I think I'll help Nate back here, actually." His gaze flicks over again, just long enough, Miller thinks, to see the surprise that flashed over his face, then back to Gina with a little shrug. "If that's not a problem."

Gina crosses her arms and raises her eyebrows like she's tired of this game and says, "You tell me."

It is, actually, sort of a problem. But Miller doesn't protest because doing that would be causing drama of the sort he's long mocked in others, which is how he ends up in the kitchen surrounded by a mess of dishes and boxes and packing paper, alone with Bryan, and with no idea what to do.

So he walks over to the countertop where Gina was obviously working before and starts wrapping up plates. "Is this a Harper thing?" he asks one of the plates. "Is she trying to get us talking again?"

"Are we not talking?" Bryan counters. He's putting away Gina's mismatched collection of mugs and glasses, standing a few feet that feel like a few miles away.

That they can't even look at each other properly should be answer enough, but Miller just shrugs. "You tell me."

"I needed some space. Are you telling me you didn't?"

How can he know the answer to that? It was Bryan who cut off contact first, who never gave Miller a chance to decide if he wanted a clean break or to try to be friends or whatever else it is that recently broken up couples might do.

"And you don't need space anymore?" he counters, instead. He's shoving newspaper into the crevices between dishes and neither his voice nor the hard, angry movements of his hands are as neutral as he wants them to be.

Bryan doesn't answer for a long time. He finishes packing three more mugs. He opens his mouth again and again like he's about to speak—Miller sees him from the corner of his eyes—but no actual words come, and just when Miller's about to ask what the point of ripping open a barely healed wound is anyway, Bryan says, "You're right. I'm sorry. There's nothing to say, is there?"

"Apparently not."

His own voice sounds as hard as Bryan's had sounded defeated, and he doesn't know who it is speaking through him, because he doesn't fight like this, ever. He doesn't get emotional; he doesn't let anything get to him.

He hates himself but keeps going anyway: "You've made all the decisions here so far. I wanted to spend the whole summer with you. You wanted to break up."

"It's not like the time we did spend together went so well."

"So we just forget about the whole thing? No." He cuts himself off, takes a deep breath, clenches his fists, closes his eyes. "Why did you tell Gina you wanted to work back here with me?" he asks, then, very slowly, like he's cleaning up the mess of feelings they've thrown about the room.

"Because it feels weird to me too," Bryan answers, "to know you're around and not see you or talk to you."

"So, what?" Miller opens his eyes, crosses his arms against his chest. "You want to be friends?" As soon as he says it, he knows that's not something he can do. Not yet, at least.

"I don't know," Bryan says, in a tone of voice that makes it clear he feels pretty much like Miller does: angry and bitter and confused, wishing he felt differently, unable to stop. The way he says them, the words sound defeated, and Miller wonders if that's the impression he's giving off, too.

"Well, I can't—" He makes a vague gesture with his hands, like trying to grab Bryan's shoulders, but he's too far away. The movement feels strangled, like his words do. "I can't do this right now."

Last time, it was Bryan who walked out, just left Miller standing out on his front porch, barely functioning, and except for that detail and the location, this feels exactly the same. Being the one to leave doesn't hurt any less.

But what hurts much more is the slam of the swinging door into his nose as he tries to leave the kitchen just as Raven tries to enter.

#the year 2017 #2017: free write #the hospital starter #my writing #mine

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