#but for now... slightly braindead posts right before i go to bed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fivescoffeemug · 4 years

Text

milk coffee. (Five Hargreeves x Reader) (part 2)

Summary : you got too broke to pay for rent so you crash at Five’s.

Warnings : none

Words : 2,137

A/N : please please tell me (thru dm or ask box) if you want to be in this taglist, because I’m making more parts and this is seriously flopping :(

(Just to be clear, the story takes place on 2nd April 2019 assuming they got back to the umbrella academy and not the sparrow academy because fuck the cliffhanger)

taglist : @eyelash-curler

part 1 | part 2

“Have you got the money?”

“Sorry?”

“The rent.”

“I—I ... I don’t—I don’t have it yet.”

“Sorry but you’ve been here for three free weeks.”

“Miss, please, please just give me another week I swear my book’s just—”

“Get out.”

“Miss just—”

“I’m going broke too and I need the money! But since you’re broke too one of us has to have money right? Now go back up and pack your shit.”

“I’ll be homeless.”

“I’m giving you till five.”

Five. It hit you like a swing of a sledgehammer to the back of your head.

No, you thought. That would be so pathetic.

But what other choice did you have?

You rushed up the stairs, grabbing your phone and finding the word ‘Five’ in your contacts. You pressed on it, calling it immediately.

At the fifth ring, he finally picked up.

“What?” He hissed.

“Wow, you sound overjoyed to hear from me,” You rolled your eyes, soon realizing now was not the time for the petty insults.

“Mhmm,” He hummed, seeming busy with something else. “What do you want?”

This wasn’t the first time you called Five since you met him, probably about the third, the other two times were just because you were bored.

It had just come to you that he always seems so uninterested in your company whenever you began conversations, but he would come around soon enough. You both wouldn’t stop at the scornful insults though.

“Can I ... crash at your place?” You struggled to say, biting your lip and closing your eyes right after.

“You were already crazy enough to even want to keep in touch but this just breaks the mental asylum records by a landslide,” Five comments. “What next, you’re gonna come up and tell me you have powers or something?”

You couldn’t help but smile at his remarks. You always told yourself, ‘damn I hate it when he does that,’ but you always knew that was a lie.

“Well? This is a joke to just keep me listening, right?” Five asked. “What do you really want, Y/N?”

“Sorry to disappoint you today mister masochist, but it turns out that I do infact need a place to crash,” You repeated, hoping you wouldn’t have to explain.

But of course, that’s if you lived in world where everyone was a naive nobody.

“What’s wrong with your place?”

“I’m fucking broke, alright?” You blurted in frustration. “I’m not from here. I’ve got no one else. I had to pay the landlady from the money I could scrape out of my pants pockets and I thought my book would sell by now, but I guess I was getting ahead of myself.”

You could feel Five huffing in a slight chuckle.

“Not from here, so no family or friends to turn to for shelter ... oh helpless, helpless Y/N ... ” He narrated, clearly amused at your desperate situation.

“Well?”

“It would really be amusing to see you on the streets, wouldn’t it?”

“For you, definitely.”

There was silence for a while.

“You know what, fine. I’m not as cruel as you think I am.”

“The fact that you had to point that out means you probably are,” At this point, talking to Five always just triggered the instinct of throwing any insult you could at him.

“You wanna sleep on the streets?”

“No.”

“Then shut up and start packing.”

“Not even your address?”

“I’ll text you.”

“Okay, bye.”

And with that, he hung up, and you threw your phone on the bed and began packing.

...

When you turned up at the place, you thought you read the address wrong, you read it over at least seven times now. You looked up at the tall building. It was a mansion.

It made you wonder if Five really was just some regularly school boy.

You got to the front door, knocking at the wood. You found yourself admiring the patterns on it for a short while before the door finally opened.

“Can I help you?” A taller black woman with frizzy hair asked as you found youself puzzled.

“I—well, I’m ... ” You couldn’t find the words to say. You couldn’t say you were here to see Five because if anything you just needed a place to stay. “I just ... I wanted to see Five.”

“Five!” The woman calls. “Some girl is here for you!”

You heard the faint sound of some footsteps walking rather hastily down the stairs, finally seeing Five in the distance coming closer now.

“I was expecting someone, come in,” he said monotonously, barely making any eye contact with you.

You tugged your small luggage inside the building after you and got a good look at the foyer. There was a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the entire place just seemed so grand, giving off the 1990’s vibe but if they were dirty rich.

“F-Five how old are you?”

“Well ... ” his head slowly leaned to the side as he squinted in thought. “It’s complicated.”

“How is that complicated?”

“Okay if I said I was like twenty two would that satisfy you?”

“Well if that’s a lie then obviously not,” You follow him as he began walking up the stairs, dragging along your burden of a luggage.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to be unsatisfied for a while,” He turns to a corridor and you finally meet his plain room.

The walls reminded you of his eyes, the ones you fell for the time you met him. You had to admit, those were a true beauty.

Too bad its owner’s a real pain in the ass, you thought, smirking to yourself.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Do you guys just not have a spare room in this big-ass mansion?”

Five’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the ground. “Well, not one I’d want you to use.”

“Why not?”

“My dad’s. He’s dead.”

“Oh ... I—”

“Nope, don’t apologize,” Five shook his head. “Just put down your stuff. Crashing here is the best option you’ve got anyway, I’ll get an air mattress.”

You watch as Five exits the room, another stranger standing by the door, looking surprised and confused at the same time.

“Why?”

“Nothing I just ... I’ve never seen him so ... kind,” he finishes, soon entering the room. “Sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met. Klaus.”

“Y/N,” You shake the hand he held up, soon letting go as Five reappears again, seemingly glaring at Klaus before he left.

“Who are the other people in your house?” You ask before Five could start inflating the mattress.

“Does it matter?” He asks back, seeming to have no intention of letting you know about what was going on.

“Well, you’ll have to make some sense out of this,” You huffed, still slightly confused as to how peculiar Five has been. “If you’re not going to tell me then at least give me your age.”

Five grabs an air-pump and starts inflating the mattress, clearly ignoring your plea. You offer your help, and he let you but after discovering how incredibly slow you were going, he took back the pump and resumed doing it himself.

“Do you like reading books? I wrote one.”

“I really wished I had said ‘I don’t remember asking’, but unfortunately for me, I wanna know how the hell you ended up alone penniless where you don’t belong,” Five finished pumping air into the mattress, which you immediately say on after he left to put the pump back.

“Well?” His eyebrow raised, then returned.

“I was an orphan my whole life, it was abusive and I’ve had enough,” You huffed, frowning up at him. “That’s all I feel like saying.”

“An orphan ... when’s your birthday?”

“Tell me your age and I’ll tell you my birthday.”

Five looked to the side, biting his lip. He nodded, looking at the ground.

“How old do I look to you?” He cocked his head up as your eyes met yet again.

“Like ... eighteen?”

“There you have it.”

“I got it right?”

“Yes now it’s getting late and we’re going out to get dinner soon. You coming?”

“I don’t have any money left.”

“Five, let’s go,” A man appears at Five’s door, soon noticing your presence. “Who’s the girl?”

“Homeless person I decided to help,” Five replied coldly. “Poor Y/N doesn’t have the money for dinner too.”

“I’m not—”

“Y/N?” One of his eyebrows were raised, now facing you. “Don’t take the bitch too seriously he’s always like this.”

“I suggest you do the same for him, sadly Diego doesn’t have any spare braincells left, he shares one with our gorilla brother,” Five reviled, Diego turning back to glare at Five.

“I think I’ll skip dinner; I don’t want to bother the four of you about it.”

“The fou—Five! Does she not know about ...?”

“Do you really think I’d willingly embarrass myself by introducing the rest of our braindead siblings to her?” Five rolled his eyes.

“Up your ass, Five,” Diego digressed, soon smiling at you as he turned to face you again. “There’s actually seven—no six of us here. One of us died.”

“Your dad, right?”

“I—well n-no, he’s not really part of the picture ... ”

“My dad had seven of us. One of us died. That’s the end of it,” Five concluded, or at least tried to.

“My name’s Diego, that’s Five, and the tall black woman’s Allison, the short one’s Vanya, the bigger looking guy is Luther and the high one is Klaus.”

“Didn’t Klaus quit drugs?”

“Well, I don’t know. Drugs or no drugs he always kinda seemed high to me,” Diego shrugged.

...

After Five treated you to dinner, you washed up and Vanya let you use her pajamas for the night. Five got you an extra blanket and pillow too.

In the middle of the night, you had a nightmare. Your neck and face was sweaty and you were panting heavily. Five woke up to his room shaking, a few small things falling off the side of his table. He glanced down at you, trying to shake you awake.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

“No ... please ... I can e-explain ... ”

“Y/N you’re dreaming! Wake up!” Five fell off his bed as the shaking got worse, and ended up on top of you.

“Ow!” You jolted awake and the room’s rumbling had finally stopped.

He scrambled to the edge of the mattress, clutching the sides of your shoulders as concern had smeared his face.

“Y/N are you okay?”

Your face was already stained with tears when you woke up, but you couldn’t help damping your face again as you bury it in your hands, sobbing.

“Y/N ... talk to me.”

“No!” You cried, lowering your head to the mattress. It was a horrible nightmare. “I ... I don’t want to.”

“Y/N ... Y/N ... listen to me. Please, look at me.”

When you heard this, you stopped, as he asked. But it was only because you couldn’t believe what he was saying, or at least, the tone he was saying it in.

His eyebrows arched upwards as your eyes met once more. Those calm, sea blue eyes told wonders to you without saying anything at all. It made you calmer.

“You were dreaming. It was just a nightmare, it’s okay. You’re okay. Do you hear me?”

You felt his hand on yours. It wasn’t so obvious, though, because it was just the tip of his fingers touching yours.

But somehow, you still felt the tears rolling down your cheek.

“I’m ... I’m so sorry, Five,” you started tearing up again.

“Here.”

He held out his arms slightly, and you gladly wrapped your arms around his neck, your back now warm from his touch too. You buried your face in between his neck and your arm, while he places his chin on your shoulder.

You felt him inhale and exhale, and somehow the feeling of his chest, his shoulders rising, it made you feel okay. It made you feel at home.

“Are you okay now ‘cause I’d really like to go back to sleep,” five broke the silence after several seconds of feeling each others’ warmth.

You nod, pulling away from the hug. “It’s okay if you say no, but I ... I really don’t want to sleep alone. I mean, on this mattress. It’s so big, it feels so lonely.”

Five blinked for a few seconds before nodding, standing up to grab his pillow and blanket.

“I’ll face the other way,” He said, pullling his blanket over him as he laid beside you. “But I’m here. Just remember that.”

You nod, resting your head on your own pillow, feeling yourself ease back into the drowsy feeling of sleep.

“Actually, Y/N ... how did you make the room vibrate?”

#tua five #tua #tua2 #tua s2 #five x reader #number five x reader #number five x y/n #five x y/n #tua five x y/n #five fanfic #number five fanfiction #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five hargreeves x y/n #five x you #tua five x you #five hargreeves

199 notes · View notes

tired-college-student-writing · 4 years

Text

Tim’s Secret Weapon pt. 12

I’ve been slightly obsessed with @ozmav ‘s Damian Wayne/Marinette Dupain-Cheng pairing as of late, and just saw a post that has inspired me more than anything else has in months, so I felt the need to write it

Summary- Tim has always seen the numbers floating above people’s heads, been able to perceive their threat levels with a single glance. After being a hero for so long he thought he was desensitized to seeing high numbers above people’s heads until Damian brings a new friend home.

Part 1

Part 11

Part 12(HERE)

Part 13

____________________________________________

Jason had started cackling as soon as Tim explained why he was cross, pulling the ring from his hand and tossing it back to its proper owner. Damian Bruce and Alfred were intrigued by the prospect by the fact Jason was predestined to be a miraculous wielder. Dick, on the other hand, was pouting at Jason being ‘officially more of a cat than him.’

“You’re not a black cat,” Tim snapped, using the door frame to stay upright, glaring at the stark white number over Jason’s head, “He may claim he’s all about destruction but it’s who he was made into not who he is at his core.”

“What?” Jason huffed, “You’re the one that said my number went up to 15! I’m a cat now, I’m leaving the birds to join Selina.”

“No,” He nearly growled in frustration, staggering over to the couch, “Adrian is the real cat here. At his core, he’s sweet and kind and trustworthy, but he also has chaos at his center. He can destroy a person he believes deserves it without a second thought, tarnish a reputation permanently with no remorse if he believed it was the best course of action, manipulate a person into behaving how he wants with precision and grace without anyone realizing that the ray of sunshine would be able to do so. He’s literally destruction. You aren’t like that Jason, not at your core. You’re a true holder, but you aren’t a Black Cat.”

The room was silent as he finally finished and he couldn’t help, but look around at their stunned faces with confusion. Even the Kwamis had frozen from where they had been whispering on the side table, glancing between each other and Tim.

“What?” He snapped, too tired to deal with anything else tonight.

“You’ve only just met Adrian,” Kim drew out, “And just spouted off stuff I never knew about the sunshine boy with such confidence I’m pretty sure you’re not lying.”

“What do you mean? Of course, I know that stuff, can’t you guys tell it too? That’s just what I can tell from observing if I really wanted to know anything important about him I’d have to do research,” He explained with a groan as he leaned against Dick’s shoulder.

Dick just looked down at him in amazement, “No Timmy, most people can’t tell that kind of stuff just from spending a few hours with someone.”

“Huh? You guys never acted like I was crazy before,” He pointed out looking at his brothers.

“I always assumed you researched our targets before we needed the information,” Bruce hummed, “We had meant to ask you how you knew some of the skills you had listed when you had never met the heroes before making the entries in your journal.”

“I mean I did look up some stuff, but isn’t most of that stuff common knowledge?”

Jason snorted, “I didn’t know Bruce spoke Portuguese before reading his journal entry, replacement. I can say with confidence that there’s no video footage of B or Bats speaking or reading Portuguese anywhere or any reason you should know that before I even kicked the bucket.”

“I…” Tim tried to think back, to why he knew this information, where he had put together the man had known so many languages.

“Tim,” Marinette piped up, “What languages does everyone in here speak?”

“French and English.”

His deadpan earned an eye roll from her, “No, I meant past that. Start with your family and then my team, tell me all the languages. Go.”

He was skeptical of what she was trying to do but decided not to question it, “All the bat speak Mandarin, Spanish, Arabic, and BSL. Bruce knows Romanian, Portuguese, Dutch, Cantonese, and Greek. Alfred speaks German, Italian, Japanese, Russian, and Polish. Dick speaks Romani, Romanian, Dutch, and Russian. Jason has Portuguese, Japanese, Korean, Cantonese, and Russian. I can do Japanese, Romanian, German and Polish.

Damian knows Japanese, Korean, Cantonese, and is just short of fluent in Romanian.”

His eyes turned to the Parisian teens, ignoring the surprise at their extensive list of languages, “ Adrian knows Mardiran and Japanese. Chloe knows Japanese. Kim is fluent in Vietnamese and is nearing passable in German. Max knows Korean and Safan. Alix knows Ancient Egyptian and Arabic. Kagami knows Japanese and Mandarin. Viperion knew quite a bit of Italian but wasn’t quite fluent. Marinette knows Italian, is nearly fluent in Arabic and… actually, I’m not sure what the last one is, but it’s ancient, something close to Sino-Tibetan I think?”

Eyes flashed around the room, before settling on Tim.

“Seriously?” Tim groaned, “None of you knew that?”

Jason's eyes flashed to Damien, “Since when do you speak Romanian?”

He scowled, the tips of his ears burning, “It was going to be a surprise for Grayson, I was hoping to be fluent by his birthday…”

Marinette broke in before any of the brothers could make a comment, “Tim, Damien only practiced Romanian when he knew everyone was out of the house. Nor should you know about the Guardian Language.”

“Guardian Language?” He whispered, head too fuzzy for him to process more than that.

She winced a little, “When the role of Guardian was handed over to me, the language of the Guardians was basically downloaded into my head. It allows me to read the Guardian Grimoire and perform the spells within it to heal kwamis, fixing broken miraculous or create potions to allow them different abilities they don’t usually possess. Usually, there’s a lot of training to be able to deal with the new knowledge being shoved into their heads but my gaining of the guardianship was more than a little unorthodox so I had to deal with migraines for about six months after. I had to decode the secrets for myself even with knowing the language.”

“I don’t even know what the Guardian is,” Tim whispered as the truth set it, “I really shouldn’t know this stuff about you guys…”

“Another aspect of your power, no doubt,” Alfred cut in, “Hardly the worst thing in the world for a detective to have intuition-based knowledge of the people he’s looking up, hmm?”

Tim laughed, “Thanks, Alfred.”

The butler merely nodded, “However, I am fairly certain Master Tim hasn’t been truthful about how much sleep he’s gotten this week and a miraculous drain is dangerous even when well-rested, I suggest suspending this discussion until a proper hour?”

Damien gave him an innocuous look, “ You tried to lie to Pennyworth? Are you completely braindead.”

“Panicking over my secret being out means lots of comfort coffee,” He groaned back as he attempted to bury himself in Dick’s side.

“Go to sleep Replacement,” Jason huffed, as Dick pulled the other man to his feet. Zombie Tim's duty was something they all had plenty of experience in. It wasn’t long before he was stripped of his costume and sweatpants and an oversized tee pulled on over his bike shorts.

Tim barely registered the lights being turned off as he was bundled into bed, half asleep already.

When Tim arose the next morning he was surprised to see it was only 8 am, seven hours after when he remembered his brother’s getting him to bed. Typically, after the kind of crash, he felt last night he needed a solid thirteen hours of sleep and two cups of coffee to feel this alive again. His answer came from the tiny horse resting on the nightstand.

“Kaalki? What are you doing here?”

“Kwami healing,” She offered in an attempt to be nonchalant as she floated up in front of him, “ Tikki is best at it but every Kwami, barring Plagg, can offer some form of rejuvenation to those who need it. My way of healing is to replenish the energy that has been lost in a timely manner. It was the least I could do after causing you so much distress last night.”

Tim frowned and offered a flat hand for her to land on, “Don’t do that, there’s no blame on you or Marinette or anyone else. Accidents happen, and it’s not like there’s an instruction book on miraculous and metas.”

She fidgeted, “I believe you are correct but I still felt bad for causing such harm to befall you.”

Tim just shook his head, “Either way, thank you. I feel amazing right now.”

She smiled, “Perhaps if you hurry you can join your family for breakfast, I heard they were setting out to leave soon.”

He quickly pulled on his clothes and did his morning routine in the ensuite before entering the main room where his family froze in place as they were pulling on coats and shoes.

“What the fuck are you doing up?” Jason hissed, ready to force him back into bed.

“Kwami magic has its perks,” Tim defended, hands raised in surrender as Kaalki floated next to him, “I feel more awake then I have in years.”

Alfred grinned, “Ah yes, I remember how Duusu would help us relax after battles. Well come along then,

Marinette squinted at him judgingly, trying to figure out how he was allowed out by his family before Kaalki darted from his jacket over to Max’s. Instead, she just huffs and begins leading the entire group of heroes towards her parents’ bakery, Damien quickly falling in step to her left, glaring at Adrian who had fallen into step on her right.

“SO, replacement,” Jason drawled, dropping an arm around the short brother’s shoulders, “I didn’t get to ask last night cause you looked more zombie then me, but if I’m not a cat, what am I?”

“I don’t even know where to start with miraculous,” Tim huffed, pushing the older man away, “Where would I even start with which miraculous to give to you?”

“Well, how about we give you a starting point,” Adrian asked, turning to walk backwards so he could look at them with a twinkling smile, “Miraculous are broken into two categories, indirect and direct. Direct miraculous powers affect the target of the power directly like the Bee’s venom freezing someone, while the Indirect affect the world around the target, like the Horse’s teleportation. The Black Cat and Ladybug fall outside of the groupings as they’re both direct and indirect. Indirect users can’t use Direct miraculous effectively and can even have adverse effects of transforming too long and vice versa. So does Jason feel like a direct or indirect holder.”

“Indirect,” Tim started, finding the words just started flowing as he stared at the 11 swirling about over his brother’s head, “Jason’s cocky and more stubborn than the Blue Boyscout if you get him going, but he’s also loyal to a fault and filled with so much determination I’m not sure whether to be scared or impressed. No matter how angry he is at someone, or how much he thinks they deserve the consequences of their actions he will be there to protect them by any means necessary. He may talk tough and act stupid but he’s unbelievably wise with instincts unparalleled by normal humans when it comes to trust and how to get out of sticky situations. He can and will kill, but only if it’s the only option left to make it out of a situation alive.”

Jason scowled and pulled on the end of his jacket sleeve as he looked away, “Geez, rip me open why don’t you?”

“Hey, you asked,”

Marinette stared at him with a cryptic eye, “No, he’s right I can see it. I think I know what miraculous to give you.”

Tim’s attention fell away from the conversation as Jason tried to pry the newly found information from the young Guardian. Because that was the least of his worries.

Not when his eyes landed on vibrant blue hair, strikingly familiar, attached to a man sitting on the wall around the Seine, strumming his guitar absentmindedly.

“Found you,” Tim said, causing the man in front of him to smile up at him.

“That was quick,” He laughed, the thick gothic steel-colored 13 made his blue eyes take on a silver hue.

“It’s easy to spot such a high number when most don’t reach past six,” He shrugged.

“You and I aren’t very different, you know?” Steely grey 13 offered, looking back to his guitar.

“I think the masks gave that away,” Tim mussed, “I’m Tim.”

“Luka, Luka Couffaine,” Steely Grey 13, Viperion, Luka offered easily, “And I meant past the masks.”

“How do you mean then, Luka?”

The younger man looked up at him and waved a hand at the chair across from him, “How about you take a seat, Uccellino, and we can compare notes on what it’s like to be meta.”

____________________________________________

Taglist: @vixen-uchiha @iggy-of-fans @mewwitch @roseinbloom02 @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @mochinek0 @royalchaoticfangirl @09shell-sea09 @mystery-5-5 @derpingrainbow @aloha-posts-stuff @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @maribat-archive @blue-peach14 @kae690 @zazzlejazzle @vincentvangoose @be-happy-every-day-please @xxmadamjinxx @celestiacq @peculiarlylostdreamer @dani-ari @melicmusicmagic @themcclan @nyctamaximoff @nataladriana9 @drama-queen-supreme @miraculousbelladonna @urbanpineapplefarmer @graduatedmelon @lexysama @hecate-hallow @ki117h3dr4g0n @vinerlover @interobanginyourmom @bluefiredemon @imanerddealwith @tinybrie @clumsy-owl-4178 @shizukiryuu @whogavemeaninternet @schrodingers25 @lunar-wolf-warrior @urbanpineapplefarmer @xxmadamjinxx @crazylittlemunchkin @littleredrobinhoodlum @rougemme @dur55 @phantommeow12 @kand-roo @silvergold-swirl @officiallyathiana @completelypeccable @redhoodsdoll @nataladriana9 @mariae2900 @northernbluetongue @sturchling @thesunanditsangel @reyna-avila-ramirez-alreanaldo @bobothyross @taoiichii @magnitude101999 @magicalfirebird @nataladriana9 @panda3506 @aquariusrunes @woodland-queer @sayarock121 @mindfulmagics @magic-miraculous @my-name-is-michell @naoryllis @slytherinqueen2432 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @captainartsypants @nanakeid @legendaryneckjudgestudent @smolplantmum @the-real-ginakid @nyaabinch @elmokingkong @gentlemanoftimetravel @whitennerdiest@imbrium-mare @tired-butterfly @corabeth11 @aestheticnpoetic @amirahevens @sassakitty @letterlust @whats-she-gonna-post-next

313 notes · View notes

chokememrstark · 5 years

Note

Hii!! I have this Starker prompt and it goes like this~ Peter is a highschooler who gets bullied by Flash everyday and as the days go by, it gets very serious. One day Flash and his sidekicks beat-up Peter so bad that he has to be taken to the hospital. And there he is treated by Dr. Tony Stark. Can you add some fluff AND smut in this please?? Also, you blog is bloody AWESOME!! 😍😍💞 May the Sun keep shining upon your blog and may you keep giving us these cool posts forever!! 😘😘

First of all: THANK YOU SO MUCH!! That’s so sweet of you to say!!

Secondly: this turned into 2,6k and I’m not even remotely sorry. Enjoy!!!

He should have known it was a dumb idea to stay late after school, especially with Flash and his stupid fanclub of braindead bullies constantly lurking around. But he didn’t think and when he finally left the classroom it was already too late. With four guys coming at him at once, led by a very satisfied Flash of course, Peter stood no chance.

Sometime during the beating up he received, Peter must have passed out, because the next thing he remembers after Flash’s initial blow and the disgusting grin on his face, is that he’s in a hospital bed and stares at the tiled ceiling. For a few minutes, he just lays there, trying to process the weird mixture of amusement and dread he feels. Only he would end up in a hospital after some idiots cornered him. Typical.

He’s been awake for a few more minutes before the door opens and someone walks into the room - a room that only consists of Peter until then and the dumb, annoying beeping noise from the machines he is connected to - and the boy manages to turn his head. Well, the day just turned a bit brighter, despite everything hurting. The man that walks in is incredibly handsome, though Peter can’t say if it’s the white coat or the face. Whatever it is, he likes it.

“Mister Parker?” the man asks and Peter can only grin at him. Damn, what did they give him that he feels so silly suddenly? Morphium? “I see we’ve woken up? How do you feel?”

“Dumb,” Peter says and can’t help but laugh at the probably worst word to use. “Sorry… I meant… I’m fine.”

“Well,” the doctor - at least he looks like one - says and walks over to the bed. “Dumb isn’t what I would call it. It says here you’ve been going against… four guys? Not a smart move, really.”

“Not my fault,” Peter huffs and shifts a little. “They started it. Don’t really know what happened, I guess I got knocked out.”

“That you did,” the doctor smirks and shakes his head. “No major injuries, don’t worry, but you’ll have to stay here for a few day so we can make sure there’s no internal bleeding and such.”

“You’re my doctor, right?” Peter asks, earning a nod in return. “Perfect… at least this time I’m not treated by a troll.”

At this, the doctor laughs quietly and looks down at his board. “I won’t tell Doctor Banner you said that, but thank you. Now try to get some rest, you need it.”

“What’s your name?”

“Doctor Stark, but you can call me Tony if it’s easier,” the doctor winks and leaves before the boy can say anything else to embarrass himself.

Peter grins when he turns his head back to look at the ceiling. Damn, he’s lucky this time. Even if it’s just the medication he gets that makes him so giddy, he can’t wait until the doctor comes back to examine him again. The man looks damn hot.

The day goes by rather quiet and contrary to what Peter believes, he stays alone in the room. When a nurse brings him his food in the evening he asks if the doctor will come by again that day - claiming he’d like to know if he will be woken up sometime during the night for examinations and such - and she smiles gently at him, explaining that the doctor will, in fact, look after him again before he goes to bed, to make sure he feels comfortable and doesn’t need any more medication. Peter can’t fully suppress his excitement about that and is even able to look past the bland taste of his food.

He spends the rest of the early evening watching TV - there’s either cartoons or talk shows and he doesn’t need other people’s problems, so he settles for the first - and continues to empty the water bottle on his nightstand as the nurse instructed him to. It tastes a bit weird, so he expects some sort of medication in there too. Not that he minds, the pain is almost gone at this point and he feels much better already.

Around eight, Peter gets up to follow nature’s call, luckily there are no needles in his arm anymore after lunch. He uses the chance to clean himself up a bit, mostly his face because he feels icky after Flash touched him, and when he comes out finds someone sitting on his bed, waiting for him. Doctor Stark.

“You’re feeling better already, I see?” the doctor asks and Peter nods with a smirk.

“Much better after washing that idiot’s touch off my face,” he says and walks over. Before he can lay back down, however, the man takes his wrist and stops him.

“Do you mind if I check out your bruises again, to see if there’s anything wrong?” he asks and Peter slowly shakes his head. “Good, get out of that shirt then.”

The boy tries really hard to not grin when he pulls the shirt over his head. He’s glad that he doesn’t have to wear one of those nasty hospital gowns, he absolutely hates those. Once his upper body is bare, he steps in front of the doctor, between his legs, so he can examine him.

“How bad is it, doctor?” he asks quietly as the man’s hands begin to move. He can hardly suppress a gasp when he feels those big, strong fingers on him and closes his eyes.

“You got a few pretty bad hits, kid,” the doctor replies, almost as quiet as Peter. It sounds like he’s fighting to keep his voice steady. “Does this hurt?” he then asks and presses a finger against one of the dark spots on Peter’s hips, making the boy jerk up.

“Ah - yes! That… that hurts,” Peter gasps and bites the insides of his cheeks. The procedure is repeated several times and with every new gasp, Peter begins feeling more dizzy and tingly. Fuck, this man’s hands know what they are doing, even when their touch hurts. At one point he asks Peter to turn around so he can look at his front, and he does so while holding his breath.

“You’re a good boy, Peter,” the doctor says after a while, before swallowing. “I’m almost done.”

Damn, Peter wishes he would have more bruises that the man could be checking out. Surprisingly though, when he is done, Peter can still feel the doctor’s hands on his hips. They don’t move anymore, just stay there and he can hear the man’s breathing go slow and shakily. At this, Peter finally opens his eyes again and looks down, catching himself just in time to prevent a moan at just how handsome and zoned out he looks.

“Doctor Stark?” Peter asks, his own voice trembling and after a moment, the doctor looks up at him, his gorgeous brown eyes darkened and slightly unfocused.

“How do you feel?” he asks quietly, as if he’s just repeating something he knows he should say right now.

“Good,” Peter gulps, without breaking eye contact. “Your hands… feel good on me.”

At this, the doctor begins moving his thumbs, rubbing over Peter’s hip bones and the boy’s breath hitches at the shudder that goes through his body. Fuck, why does this feel so awesome? He has to hold onto the man’s shoulder to steady himself, his head dropping.

“P-Please don’t stop,” he breathes heavily. It feels so good, Peter wants him to keep going.

The doctor stills for a moment and Peter already fears he will just get up and leave, but he doesn’t. Instead, he continues to rub over the boy’s skin, adding a bit more pressure and Peter thinks he might lose it right there and then. He’s a needy thing, he knows that and it got him into so much trouble already, but fuck, this is better than all of that and Doctor Stark didn’t even do anything yet.

“You should go back to bed, Peter,” the doctor murmurs, without showing any sign of wanting to give his patient the chance to even do it. “You’re still hurt, you need rest.”

“I can… rest later,” Peter whispers, letting out a hushed breath at the doctor pressing his thumbs roughly against his hips. “I… I want you to touch me, doctor…”

“Bad idea, kid,” the man says, without actually stopping to touch Peter. “You’re my patient, I’ll get into lots of trouble. And you’re 16… really bad idea.”

“I won’t tell,” Peter gasps, squeezing the doctor’s shoulder. “P-Please, I won’t tell, I promise…”

“Fuck, Peter…” There’s a groan and then two shaky hands are on Peter’s jeans, opening the button. “I’m gonna get fired and worse, fuck…”

“I won’t tell, doctor, I won’t, I won’t…” Peter moans softly, trembling under the man’s experienced and yet insecure fingers. When he pulls the zipper down, Peter digs his nail into the coat covering the doctor’s shoulders.

“You gotta be quiet, kid, can you do that?” Doctor Stark asks and looks up at Peter, who immediately nods.

“I’ll… I’ll try,” he mumbles and bites his bottom lip.

When a strong hand suddenly shoves into his boxers and pulls his cock out, Peter’s throat is so tight the moan he wants to get out won’t come. Which is probably good because it would have been so fucking loud, everyone would have heard.

“God, please, doctor…” Peter begs, voice still trembling and drops his head onto the man’s shoulder. “I want you, please…”

Doctor Stark doesn’t answer, instead, he begins stroking Peter’s cock that is already half hard, easily bringing him to his full length. Once his gaze drops his eyes are glued to it, to his hand wrapping around Peter’s whole length so easily, to the little drop of precum he draws with his movements.

“So fucking pretty, fuck,” he breathes and leans down, his tongue teasingly licking over the tip of Peter’s cock and licking up his sweet, salty spill. “God, you taste perfect, kid… you like that?”

Peter has his mouth pressed against the man’s shoulder to muffle his sounds, but now he turns his head, letting out a whimper. “Y-Yes, i-it feels so good,” he trembles and lets out a hot breath against the other’s neck. “P-Please keep going, please…”

The doctor continues to move his hand slowly, the other moving between his own legs. Peter can see it and it’s impossible to suppress the groan at that. He’s touching himself… he’s touching himself while he touches him… Oh God…

“Kid, you’re gonna kill me,” Doctor Stark growls and suddenly Peter can feel - and see - his lips wrap around his cock and he buries his face back against the man’s shoulder to muffle his moan. Peter shudders when the doctor begins to move, his knees become weak and he slumps forward, unable to keep himself up any longer.

Peter never experienced something so amazing and groundbreaking, something that turns his whole ability to think into dust. He trembles and moans, barely able to breathe through the arousal and pleasure the man’s lips create inside of him. The doctor takes him in all the way with ease and Peter can feel the vibrations in his cock when he moans and hums and it makes him so absolutely weak.

“You good, kid?” the doctor asks at one point and Peter didn’t even realize he pulled back. He shakes his head slowly, breath hitching and frantic and every nerve in his body screaming and on edge.

“Fuck yeah,” Peter moans and can’t even recognize his own voice from just how husky it is. “Fuck, this is so good, I… I can feel… my heartbeat… in here…” The boy grabs his throat shakily.

“Stay still, kid, enjoy it,” the doctor growls and strokes Peter with his hand slowly. “You want me to make you cum like this?”

“Oh fuck yes, yes please…” Peter gasps at the thought alone, unable to hide how much he wants this.

With another low groan, Doctor Stark is back on his cock, swallowing him like it’s the most natural thing, almost making the boy scream. Peter forces himself to stay quiet by pressing his mouth against the man’s shoulder, but it’s of so little use, this just feels so damn good he can hardly muffle his moans.

The boy doesn’t last long, not at all. He clings to the doctor as he goes down on him, sucks him in the most mind-blowing way possible and he can feel his vision become blurry, unfocused and he can’t keep it together anymore, there’s just no way.

“Oh God, Doctor Stark, I – I’m gonna –”

Peter can’t finish his sentence. The man hollows his cheeks and goes down on him again, all the way to his base, and Peter loses it. He cums with a shout against the doctor’s shoulder, tears running down his cheeks from just how intense this orgasm hits him and bucking his hips desperately while he’s being milked by the man’s mouth mercilessly.

At one point, Peter must have collapsed against the other, because the next thing he remembers is that two strong arms hold him and carefully place him down on the bed again. His eyes flutter open and meet the doctor’s wonderfully warm ones and without thinking, Peter grabs the man’s coat and pulls him down into a sloppy and absolutely blissful kiss. He can taste himself on the other’s lips and can’t suppress a moan.

When the doctor finally pulls back, Peter is still panting. He can’t do much more than weakly hold onto him, his eyes dark and dreamy and his mind caught somewhere between blissful happiness and outright panic.

“Sleep, kiddo,” the doctor smiles at him, brushing a gentle hand through his hair. Peter wants to say something, but he’s so far gone already, all he can get out I’d a weak, mumbled ‘Thank you, sir,’ before his eyes fall shut and he’s off to dreamland.

The next day, Doctor Stark doesn’t show up. Doctor Banner took over Peter’s case and for the next three days, the boy is anything but happy. Only when he’s back home and is about to hang up his jacket - the one that has been sitting in the hospital wardrobe for days - he notices the small note in his pocket. On it is a number with the words ‘text me’ on it, without a name.

Peter’s heart beats faster when he takes his phone and puts the number in. He sends a message, just as the note told him to.

[Hey, doc. Been a while]

Peter doesn’t know if it’s actually the doctor or perhaps just the cutest nurse that kept flirting with him all the time, but his worries are blown away after an hour of waiting.

[Tell me it’s you, kid. Sorry, I had to finish an operation.]

Peter’s heart skips a beat when he replies.

[It’s me. Did it go well?]

[Smoothly as always. I thought you wouldn’t message me.]

[Only found the note now, sorry. Why did you put it there anywhere?]

There’s a long pause before Peter gets a reply and when he does, he can feel his insides coil again already.

[Have to finish what I started, don’t I? Easier if you’re not stuck at the hospital.]

Peter grins and settles down on his bed. He can’t believe this is real, but he got the evidence right there. He quickly saves the doctor’s number - as Dr. Sexy ❤️ obviously - before replying.

[Tell me when and where, I’ll be there.]

And Peter has never been more excited than when he gets a message back, telling him exactly when he’s going to be fucked real good.

#starker #tony/peter #tony x peter #prompts #myfics #Doctor!Tony #patient!peter

129 notes · View notes