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jinxquickfoot · 8 months

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@badthingshappenbingo prompt: "You said you would let them go" Find the fic on Ao3

"You said you would let him go.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut—the only part of his body he can move—at the sound of Tony’s voice. He’s lost track of how long it’s been since he’d woken strapped to this table, the scents of chemicals and ocean heavy in the air.

“That’s when I thought I was ransoming an intern,” Osborn replies, running a finger down the side of Peter’s cheek. Peter manages to glare at him—the most he can do when he’s unable to pull away. “But he’s more than that, isn’t he, Stark?”

“Whatever narrative you’re trying to spin to wring more cash out of me, save it. You have the money you asked for. Now let him go, or I’m going to stop being civil about this.”

“Civil?” Osborn muses. Even from this end, Peter can hear the distortion from the tech Osborn is using to disguise his voice. “Civil would be returning what’s yours, Stark. Which was the plan before I realized that you stole this specimen first.”

“He’s a high-schooler. Only thing he’s been stolen from is gym class.”

Osborn bends his finger, causing the nail to catch on Peter’s skin. “A high-schooler, yet you gave him access to your personal labs. He must be very special.”

“Rumours, and half-baked ones at that. Get better sources.”

“Don’t lie to me, Stark. It wasn’t hard to run some blood work. This kid isn’t human, not by a long shot, so the price just tripled. Have the money in the same account by midnight, or I’m putting him on the black market in pieces.”

“Or,” Tony counters. “I figure out who you are, come pick the kid up myself, and you can face me head on. How does that sound?”

“Is that an UN-approved mission, Stark? Heard you’re on a tight leash these days. Good luck getting a rescue mission signed off in time to save the kid.” Osborn grins down at Peter, the expression all teeth. “Either way, I get paid for him. How much pain he goes through during the interim is entirely up to you.”

“Listen, you do not want to—”

But Osborn has already hung up. “So, Peter. Looks like we have a few more hours together. How do you want to spend them, huh? Shall we have a little more fun while your dashing hero decides if you’re worth paying for?”

Not being able to throw quips at bad guys sucks. Peter tries to move his tongue, but it’s as immovable as the rest of him. When he’d first woken up, he’d been terrified that the paralysis might be permanent. But he regains feeling every couple of hours or so, just enough to strain his limbs against the restraints, which is exactly when Osborn gives him another dose of whatever drug is keeping him immobilized.

“I’ve got all the blood I need,” Osborn is saying, moving over to the table that Peter is trying very hard not to look at. “But if we have time, why don’t we go a little deeper?”

If he could move, Peter would flinch at the sudden whir of what sounds horribly like a bone saw starting up. He might not be able to move his body, but the past few hours have certainly proved that he can feel it.

“Aw,” Osborn coos at him, the sound of the saw growing closer. “Don’t be scared, kiddo. You heal quickly enough. And after all, I’m only taking back what was mine in the first place—” He breaks off, turning to a bank of monitors that Peter can just see out of the corner of his eye. There’s a green dot traveling towards them at breakneck speed. “Well, would you look at that? I guess Stark isn’t as stupid as that goatee makes him look.”

A breath punches out of Peter as the saw switches off, hoping Osborn’s words mean the one thing he’s been praying for since he first woke up here. Tony’s coming.

Osborn sweeps Peter’s hair off his forehead in a mock gentle gesture. “Looks like I’m about to have an unexpected visitor, which means I’m going to have to put you away for a while.”

Peter narrows his eyes at him, trying to look as intimidating as possible while unable to move on a surgical table.

Osborn just laughs. “I see. You think he’s going to find you. Ah, Peter—where I’m about to put you? No one will even think to look.”

Somehow, getting cut open with a bone saw might have been preferable to this.

It’s freezing. If Peter’s body was cooperating, he knows he’d be shivering violently right about now. It’s pitch black, the oppressive darkness making him want to scream. And none of that compares to the overwhelming claustrophobia of being chained to an anchor deep, deep underwater.

Peter’s not sure a normal human would have survived the plunge into the ocean’s depths, even with the diving suit Osborn had stuffed him into. He can breathe, at least, but he’d caught a glimpse of the oxygen tank before Osborn had tipped him overboard. It had already been half-empty.

He’s tried to slow his breathing, to make whatever air he has last, fighting the instinct to panic and attempt to strain against the chains. Logically, he knows it’s no use. He’s still paralyzed. Even if the drug wears off, he’s not going to be strong enough to swim to the surface. He’s down here until Osborn pulls him up or until Tony finds him. If Tony finds him.

“Wow,” Osborn’s voice crackles in his ear. The earbud had been jammed in before Osborn had secured the diving mask purely, Peter knows, so that Osborn could keep taunting him. “He got here fast, little spider. Guess he really cares about you. Too bad he’s not going to find you, though.”

Peter closes his eyes, even though it doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference to what he can see. If anyone can figure out where Osborn’s hidden him, it’s Tony Stark.

It’s the thought he holds onto as he hears the distant roar of thrusters, right before Osborn whispers over the comms, “Show time.”

A stomp of boots and the crack of a door being kicked open. “Where is he?”

“Stark. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Osborn. That line about a stolen specimen? I know you have him.”

“I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about. And I’ll have you know that there are security cameras all over this boat. It would be a shame if the UN saw the Accords’ greatest defender attacking without so much as a warrant.”

“I don’t need a warrant if I have probable cause of harm.”

A surprised laugh. “Probable cause of harm? I am merely out here alone, enjoying a little me time.”

“Uh-huh. So you won’t mind if I search your toy boat, then?”

“Go ahead.” Osborn is all confidence. “Search away.”

More sounds—footsteps, mostly. The sounds of doors opening. The noise of a search.

Please, Peter sends up to the boat, as though if he projects through sheer force of will Tony’ll hear him. Please think to look down here, Tony. Please.

“I have to say,” Osborn speaks up, and Peter wants to punch him for the undisguised glee in his voice. “You must have lost something very important to go to all this trouble.”

“Don’t play the ignorant card, Osborn. It’s not a cute look on you.”

“Simply making an observation.”

“And you know what I observe? The room you have hidden below the ship.”

Peter’s heart skips. That has to be the room he had woken up in, where the surgical equipment, where Peter’s blood is.

“Not hidden,” Osborn corrects him. “The door is simply an aesthetic design, I assure you. I’d be more than happy for you to take a look.”

A sudden ocean current sweeps past Peter, knocking him hard against the anchor. It steals the wind from him, and there are a few terrifying moments where he can’t catch his breath, he can’t breathe, he can’t—

“Interesting space you’ve got in here. Very… clean.”

Peter latches onto the sound of Tony’s voice, using it as a much kinder anchor than the one he’s bound to. He doesn’t know how much oxygen he just wasted. He doesn’t know how much he has left, either. It belatedly occurs to him that if Tony can’t find him, then the more time his mentor spends searching, the longer Peter’s going to be stuck down here.

“I hardly use this space,” Osborn says. “The previous owners used it for fishing equipment, so I had it scrubbed to get rid of the smell and have barely touched it since. And I believe you’ve now seen the whole boat. Satisfied?”

I’m not on the boat, Peter thinks desperately. I’m below the boat.

“Not really,” Tony answers. “So, he’s not here. You’ve got him somewhere else.”

No, no, no, I’m here, come on Tony, please figure this out.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Stark.”

There's an ugly pause before Tony says, “Don’t make me make you tell me, Osborn. You won’t enjoy that.”

“Go ahead,” Osborn challenges him. “Threaten an innocent man on camera. Let’s see how that holds up under the Sokovia Accords.”

Peter’s breath catches. At first, he thinks it’s just the tension burrowing its way under his skin from the dark, the cold, the oppressive weight of the water. Then he takes another slow breath. And another.

He’s not imagining it. The air feels a little lighter than before. As though he’s already scraping the bottom of the oxygen tank.

“I paid what you asked for,” Tony snaps at him. “Tell me where he is, Osborn. Now.”

Peter slows his breathing, trying desperately to make whatever is left in the tank last as long as possible.

“How many times do I have to say it? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not leaving here until you tell me. I’ve got all night.”

Barely an hour ago, those words would have been music to Peter’s ears. Now, they’re a death sentence.

“All night, huh?” Amusement radiates from Osborn’s words. “Sure, I’m not busy. Can I offer you a drink?”

“I’m taking a second look around the ship.”

“Please, be my guest. Take all the time you need.”

Peter’s next breath rattles in his lungs. He’s definitely on dregs, and it’s not as though Osborn can pull him up while Tony’s still there. Osborn doesn’t need him alive, either. He’s made it clear that Peter’s body parts will sell just fine.

Peter listens helplessly as Tony continues to search, refusing to leave without answers that Osborn isn’t giving him. This is it. Peter’s going to die down here.

“Sure I can’t get you that drink, Stark? You did come all this way.”

Even over the comms, Peter can pick up Tony’s frustrated sigh. “This isn’t done with, Osborn.”

No, be done with it, Peter pleads with him. Go, Tony. Please just leave.

“I’m not sure what this even is,” Osborn replies, his tone all congeniality. “Of course, you did just invade my private property, which I will have to report. We all have to do our bit to keep the community safe.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” Another sound of frustration, and then Peter hears the joyous sound of an Iron Man suit starting up. Tony’s going to leave. Osborn is going to pull him up.

And then cut him to pieces and sell him.

Peter barely has time to register that last thought before he tries to take his next breath, and finds that he can’t.

“Goodbye, Stark,” Osborn is saying. “Hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Peter forces himself not to panic—to preserve the last molecules of oxygen he has left.

“Oh believe me, Norman. I will.”

Just go just go just go just go just go—

There’s silence for far too long before Peter hears Osborn speak again. “Just making sure he’s out of sight, kiddo. Can’t take any chances.”

Peter’s lungs are on fire. Instinct finally kicks in and he jerks in the chains, the paralytic drug wearing off far too late. A very different kind of darkness from the undersea depths is creeping in around him, and he can’t hear Osborn anymore, and the anchor isn’t moving, he’s going to die down here and he doesn’t want to die he doesn’t—

The last thing Peter’s aware of before he passes are strong arms on his, and the sensation of rising, rising, rising…

“Peter? Come on, kid, don’t do this to me.”

When Peter’s eyes open, he doesn’t see darkness. He’s not strapped to a table either. He experimentally shifts his arms and legs, breathing a sigh of relief as they move, only to realize that they’re shaking beyond his control.

“That’s it, Pete. Hey, look at me. Peter.”

The blurry shapes around him finally coalesce into the face of one very worried-looking Tony. “Oh, hey Mr Stark.”

“I need to stop pulling you out of freezing waters, kid.”

“S-sorry.” Peter can hear his teeth chattering, trying to wrap his arms around himself, only to realize that they’re oddly heavy. He peers down at himself, realizing he’s encased in red and gold metal. “Woah, that’s so cool.”

“Don’t get too excited, the suit’s a loan. Just getting you warm.”

Peter frowns. “Don’t feel warm.”

Tony’s brow creases. “We’ll get there. Don’t want to shoot your temperature up too quickly with your funky thermoregulation. Once you’re good I’ll fly us home.”

“Home sounds good. Away from…” Peter suddenly tries to sit bolt upright. It’s more of a half-sit-up before he collapses back with a groan.

“Woah, kid, take it easy.”

“Osborn, he’s here, he’s—”

“I got him. You’re safe, kid. I promise.”

Peter stills. “Really?”

“Really really.” Tony places a hand on Peter’s forehead, and Peter sighs at the warmth. “Sorry, kid. This one’s on me.”

“But you found me.”

“Yeah, that was one of my better brainwaves. Still, I don’t need villains kidnapping my intern because they think it’s an easy payday. We’ll work on it.”

Peter’s beginning to feel something other than completely frozen, the violent shivers abating a little. He pulls in a full breath, savoring it. “Yeah, that sucked.”

“Agreed.” Tony checks his forehead again. “I think we’re okay to turn it up a bit, FRIDAY.”

Heat suddenly bursts from the Iron Man suit’s interior, and Peter sighs in relief. “Thanks.”

“Any time, kid.” Tony lays his hand on Peter’s arm, finally seeming to relax as Peter’s temperature climbs. “Any time.”

#irondad #tony stark #peter parker #hurt peter parker #protective tony stark #kidnapping #hostage situatons #tw: claustrophobia #bthb card #bad things happen bingo

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irondadmadlads · 1 year

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Irondad Prompt #108:

Tony: You have everything you need, right? Water? Phone? Stuffed animal you secretly sleep with?

Sick/Hurt Peter on bed rest: Yeah I… wait, what?

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ddringo · 8 months

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Becoming A Hero

His brain tells him to get back up. To run. To get away. That the next attack will happen in just a second. That someone will come, and they’ll shoot a bullet through his head. That’s it. End of Peter Parker. But his body doesn’t respond to anything. He can barely lift his arms, because it feels like an elephant is sitting on his chest.

Peter knows this is the end. Knows nobody will get to him in time… he’ll bleed out, in the desert sand. Alone.

His eyes feel heavy and slowly he closes them. Tries to breathe, knowing he can’t. Tries to forget the pain, but he can’t do that either. It digs through his chest, not like a bullet, no… It’s sharp and hard. There’s not one, there are a million. A million little things in his chest. But he can’t see them.

And soon, he can’t see anything, but darkness…

#tony stark #peter parker tony stark #peter parker #iron dad #whump scenes #whump peter parker #peter parker whump #whump #hurt peter parker #arc reactor #iron man #alternate universe

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possumdrawsstuff · 2 months

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FIRST FICCCCCCC

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Peter Parker, Matt Murdock, Wilson Fisk, Original Characters, (dw shes not the main focus of the plot) Additional Tags: Hurt Peter Parker, Protective Matt Murdock, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker Whump, BAMF Peter Parker, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Anxiety Attacks, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Eventual Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Post-Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), Canon Compliant With Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021), more tags might be added later but these are the major vibes, Canon-Typical Violence, Violence, Minor Violence, yeah he goes through the wringer in this one yall, He gets better though :)

Summary:

Peter was tired. He tossed his apartment keys on the table. They land with a dull clunk onto the wood, barely rousing him from his thoughts. February had been just as cold as December, and he was ready for the weather to start heating up again. He only had so many sweaters to layer on, not to mention the addition of poor heat regulation because of his stupid spider genes. Go figure!

or, After NWH Peter is tired, sad, lonely, ect ect. What he doesn't know is that he may have more people in his corner than he realizes.

(PS. this thing will have updates more unpredictable than my sleep schedule, its also my first fic so enjoy!!!!)

#ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #peter parker #spider man #across the spiderverse #spider man no way home #tom holland #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #hurt peter parker #angst with a happy ending #multiple chapters #matt murdock #daredevil

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littlemissagrafina · 1 year

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"Hi, bored, I'm Tony."

For @call-me-coley cuz she's the sweetest.

@comfortember Day 20. Self Care

Summary: "Nope." Tony frowned. "Nice try. Back to the couch, Kid. I'm not even joking. You're hurt and I don't care how bored or stir crazy you are, you need to let yourself heal. Then you can do all the cartwheels around the training room you want."

Peter sighed and slinked back the way he came.

Tony rolled his chair back towards the doorway, shaking his head to himself as he watched Peter settle back on the couch.

He loved Peter but damnit if the kid didn't contribute to the amount of hair dye he had to use.

Read on AO3

Tony looked up when the lab doors slid open. He jumped up from his chair when Peter started limping his way into the lab, crutches tucked under both arms.

"Hey! Nah uh, nope. Not happening, Kid. Kudos for at least using the crutches but you're not meant to be up." Tony moved forward and started gently ushering Peter back the way that he came.

Peter grumbled, half heartedly planting his feet firm to the ground but giving up quickly when Tony moved as if to pick him up entirely. "I'm bored!" He dragged out the word, and Tony bit back a laugh at his whiny tone.

"Hi, bored, I'm Tony."

Peter's head whipped around to stare at him, betrayal written plain across his face as they stepped (and hobbled) into the elevator, and Tony did laugh this time.

Which apparently served to further Peter's disgruntlement if his pout was anything to go by.

They arrived back at the penthouse level and had Peter situated back on the couch in the living room, making sure his leg was propped up and that he was comfortable.

"Mr Stark, C'mon! I'm wasting away here!" Peter fidgeted, still frowning.

He very much resembled a puppy that was grumpy about having a toy taken away.

"You have homework, every movie and series that Friday has access to (which is practically everything that ever existed. And yes, I have parental controls on everything so no Game Of Thrones), and you have books and puzzles." Tony smirked at him. "Nice try, though. Not your best, but kudos for the dramatics."

Tony grabbed Peter's backpack and left it next to the couch. Anything Peter wanted was in it, and if it wasn't, then Tony would get it anyway.

"Cho has you on minimal physical activity until she clears you personally. And I, personally, don't like having to carry my kid who's covered in blood back to the medbay." And with that, as well as a pat to the top of Peter’s head, Tony went right back to his lab.

"Have fun wasting away, Bud! I'll check up on you later."

"Boss, Peter has just entered the training level."

Tony swore, waving his hand around, his thumb throbbing where he'd hit it with the hammer.

He sighed, pushing away from his workbench. When he last checked, Peter had been napping and Tony had assumed he would still be out for another half hour. Apparently not.

He left the lab and strode into the gym just in time to see Peter grab onto the enhanced and super spy proof monkey bars.

"Peter!" Tony barked, his heart clenching at the idea of Peter slipping from the bars and hurting himself even more. He took a breath and brushed the thought away, stepping back and taking momentary amusement at the way Peter froze and turned to him with an almost comical deer-in-the-headlights expression.

"Uhh…"

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, 'uhh' to you, too, Pete. You have three seconds to carefully get down and grab your crutches before I come over and carry you back upstairs. Got it?"

Peter slumped, but listened anyway.

As Tony once again escorted Peter back to the living room, he called out a request to Friday.

"Fri, block Peter's access to the gym, the garage, and the lab unless he's accompanied by someone. Spider baby is officially grounded."

He ignored Peter's spluttering, instead he ruffled Peter's hair and asked what snacks he wanted.

Instead of going back to the lab, Tony set up in Pepper's office just off the living room. Even with the temporary access ban, Tony knew Peter would somehow find a loophole and had decided that staying closer was the best option. Both to keep an eye on him and for Tony's own peace of mind. Hell, a deadline he'd already extended twice was the only reason he'd been down in the lab instead of with Peter in the first place. But he would push the deadline again, if he had to. He'd much rather be here.

The accident during Peter's patrol had shaken Tony, and even though Peter's healing time was a fraction of that of a regular person, the damage from the break had been bad enough that the teenager would be laid up for at least two weeks.

Nearing the end of the first week, Peter was almost bouncing off the walls with his pent up energy. He'd decided he was healed enough to be able to move around more, which led to today's shenanigans.

Tony had just managed an hour's work on the technical side of the project, various holograms floating around Pepper's office, when he caught movement from the corner of his eye.

Tony whipped his head towards the door, locking eyes with Peter as he tried to creep past.

"Nope." Tony frowned. "Nice try. Back to the couch, Kid. I'm not even joking. You're hurt and I don't care how bored or stir crazy you are, you need to let yourself heal. Then you can do all the cartwheels around the training room you want."

Peter sighed and slinked back the way he came.

Tony rolled his chair back towards the doorway, shaking his head to himself as he watched Peter settle back on the couch.

He loved Peter but damnit if the kid didn't contribute to the amount of hair dye he had to use.

Tony rubbed a hand over his face.

"Peter, c'mon, Bud. Can you please just stay here?"

"No, I don't want to." Peter mumbled from where his head was buried in his pillow as he lay face down on the couch.

He was so obviously tired and sore and it was driving Tony insane that he wouldn't just let himself rest. It was even making Tony restless and agitated at this point.

"Why don't you want to? And don't say you're bored, cuz you've said that all day." Tony sat on the couch next to Peter, careful that he wasn't in the way of Peter's legs as he rested a hand on his head. He gently brushed his fingers over the messy and slightly knotted curls.

"What's really going on, Pete? You're usually pretty bad at being on bed rest and whatever, but this is far worse than other times."

Peter was silent, but Tony waited, slowly working out the few knotted curls.

Eventually the teenager sighed and turned his head so it rested sideways on the pillow. "I didn't wanna be alone." He admitted gruffly and Tony froze.

"Oh."

Peter hummed and Tony carried on running his fingers through his now tangle free hair.

"You could have asked me, you know?" Tony prompted softly. "I would have stopped what I was doing and kept you company, Bud."

"I know!" Peter sighed. "That's the problem! You had to work and I know you already delayed that project. Besides, you were with me for most of the week already and I didn't want you to get in trouble from Pepper and the board."

Tony's heart almost broke. Even when Peter was hurt, he still tried to put it herself before himself. "Kid, I can promise I wouldn't have gotten in trouble. I know it doesn't always seem like it, but I don't actually take that much leave from work. I'm on time with 90% of what's needed of me, and if I need to have it officially stated, I know that the board would accept extension reasons if they knew it was because of you being injured. This project just became time sensitive because it was part of the 10% that I wasn't on time with, and that's on me. Not you."

Tony tilted his head down, leaning so I could look straight at Peter. "And if you need or want something, I will drop everything I can to be there for you. So why don't you scooch over a bit, and let's put on a movie and you can have a nap. Because I can see you're tired."

Peter stared at him, smile growing wider as Tony spoke. "Are you sure that it's okay?"

Tony smiled back. "I am."

Peter nodded then, hesitating for only a moment. "Okay. Can, uh, can you make me some of that butter popcorn?"

"Of course I can, Bud. And it's about time for some more painkillers. I'll grab those for you too."

Just before he could get up, Peter sat up and dove forward, hugging Tony tightly. Tony held back equally tight.

"Thank you."

"It's my pleasure, Roo."

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #spiderson #fanfiction #mcu #comfortember #comfortember 2022 #comfortember day 20 #iron man #spiderman #irondad and spiderson #hurt peter parker

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koiffeeart · 1 year

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Once a blue moon the Peter brainrot will win and I’ll attempt humans again exactly once, then scurry back into the cave I came from

Anyway I love him and that means he’s gotta hurt 🖤 hurt comfort fics are my lifeblood

#Peter Parker #hurt Peter Parker #artists on tumblr #digital art #art #marvel #marvel art #Peter Parker art

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elvenfforestydd · 10 months

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Pretty Eyes Fetch a Pretty Price

Guys! I've got a new fic out. Please give it a read on A03.

Let me know if you want to be on a tag list.

Have a fantastic day :)

Chapter 1/7 - Read Here

While trying to buy a new comic, Peter is kidnapped and taken to an underground children's trafficking network. With the clock ticking until he disappears into the dark underworld, Bucky will do whatever it takes to find and bring Peter back home.

#hurt and comfort #whump #hurt peter parker #fan fiction #mcu fanfiction

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magickhajiit · 1 year

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Sokovia and Spiders (Chapter 1)

Rating-teen and up

All Chapters

Hail races away from the grey clouds above, meeting their mark they feel like freezing bullets when they hit Peter’s suit. There’s an actual bullet heading towards him right now, slicing through the air as a knife would butter. Appearing in the form of a prickle of apprehension his spidey sense warns him of it, giving him enough time to flip out of the way before splashing back onto the gravel. Within minutes of sneaking out of the apartment his suit had been drenched, the colour darkened to navy and blood red. The hail is a hallmark of New York winters right along with freezing breezes and angry people, summers might bring forth warmth, but winters bring a blistering hot derived from the anger of New York’s citizens.

Spiderman had been on his way back home when he heard the commotion, the reason for the noise became quickly apparent as he leaned over the edge of the rooftop. A man was stood there, in one hand he was waved a gun threateningly in the air, in the other he was clutching the coat of a young woman. Despite his words being slurred and the stench of alcohol he was steady on his feet when he demanded her purse. He didn’t seem like the type of guy to use an authentic weapon but Peter was unwilling to take that chance. She hadn’t yet had a chance to react when spiderman leapt from the roof. He braced himself against the impact of the kick that made the assailant stumble backwards. Before he had the chance to regain his footing the woman took the opportunity to escape, heels clicking on the ground mark her departure. The moments distraction provided the criminal with ample time adjust his stance and pull the trigger.

Now there’s a bullet lodged in the brick wall, cracks spiralling from where it imploded, having sailed through the air where Peter had been standing only seconds earlier. Irritated at the murder attempt Peter flicks his wrist, he can just about hear the click of the web shooter mechanism firing before the criminal is secured to the wall.

‘’Hey, hey, hey, this is a new suit.’’ The guy just shouts obscenities at him from his place on the wall, eyes red around the edges, his scowl turning the lines on his face into deep crevices. Peter’s too busy looking at the newly formed hole in the wall, to pay any notice. In his mind's eye he can see what would have happened if the bullet hadn’t missed, metal slicing through spandex and skin before ripping through muscle. Turning his insides into a bloody smoothie. Damp gravel crunching under his weigh as blood loss causes him to crumple. He’d never been shot before, and he’s not adding it to his bucket list any time soon.

Inserting a new canister into his suit, his finger quick to fire. He hoists himself upwards, as soon as the web is secured onto a nearby lamppost, before sending a second. The rain has let up slightly as he swings through the city, no longer feeling like violent needles sticking into his skin.

Peter can hear him before he can see him, super senses allowing him to detect the suit’s inner engines from streets away. Why Ironman is hovering over the city at 11pm on a Tuesday is anyone's guess. Racking his mind for answers Peter theorises that he was after some criminal trading black market Stark tech. This area was halfway to home and a rough area of the city, infamous for its active drug gangs and weapons dealings. Yeah, that made sense.

Still, Spiderman slips into the alley, between two apartment blocks, hoping he'd either fly overhead or spontaneously change direction. He wasn’t hiding exactly, just temporarily avoiding. Ironman ignores Peter's inner prayer and continues onward. Just a couple of blocks away now, Peter can hear another accompanying voice.

‘’Do you have eyes on?’’ The question has a tinny quality about it, undetectable to most, making Peter think there must be a radio installed in his suit relaying the words.

Fortunately, he can’t recognise the voice, meaning Captain America or Thor are unlikely to drop in on him at any moment. Letting curiosity get the better of him he strains to hear more, hoping in this scenario curiosity doesn't kill the cat- or the spider in this case.

‘’No, not yet. Police reports confirm he’s been in this area recently.’’

‘’Maybe he’s already gone.’’

Peter’s stomach tumbles uncomfortably listening to the conversation unfold. They could be talking about someone else. They probably are. They have no reason to be hunting him. Though with Parker's luck there’s a good chance they are.

Still, there’s nothing to confirm this until, ‘’No, the web-slinger might be quick, but he doesn’t have super speed.’’ Unless his brand image has been stolen and there’s another web-slinging hero flinging himself around New York then it’s probably him.

Can I sue if there is? Peter wonders.

To be fair, hunting gangs is more of a Daredevil rather than an avenger thing. Ironman is practically on top of him now, a few more metres and he could look down and see him hanging from the wall uselessly. Futilely Peter shuffles down, wondering if it was better to be discovered or reveal himself. ‘’Hold on. I installed heat detecting sensors last week.’’

The flight part of fight or flight should kick in now, but at this moment, it evades Peter. Leaving him frozen as thin metal panels slide into place in Stark’s suit. ‘’See anything?’’

Ironman ignores the question in favour of hovering a little closer. So, he can glance directly into the mouth of the alleyway. Without the barriers of cloth and metal, Peter is sure they would be making awkward, uncomfortable eye contact right now.

When the silence continues for a beat too long Peter fills it, ‘’Err, Hi? I’m a big fan.’’

#superhumans #superhuman registration act #superhuman registration act fanfiction #peter parker #hurt peter parker #injured peter parker #marvel comics #marvel fanfiction #marvel spiderman fanfiction #avengers hunt spiderman #tony stark #marvel civil war #civil war comics #marvel 616

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marvelous-writer · 2 years

Text

Caught Red & Blue Handed

Summary: Peter comes home late past curfew and tries to sneak in, only it doesn’t go as he hoped.

Whumptober Day 2: Cornered & Confrontation

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,261

Genre: whump, hurt/comfort, fluff

Link to read on AO3

“Peter, you’re thirty-eight minutes past curfew.” Karen reminds him.

“I know, Karen. Thanks for reminding me again." Peter says with no real heat behind it as he shoots another web off to the closest building.

Tonight’s patrol had gotten a tiny bit out of hand. He started around eight tonight and it had gone very smoothly, helping an older lady across the street, stopping a few purse snatchers here and there, and even helping a little girl get her pet lizard down from a tree. How it got up there, he has no clue. Everything has been going so great tonight… up until the Tracksuit Mafia decided to start wreaking havoc—and that havoc, being robbing a block of expensive stores on 5th avenue.

Peter felt a bit out of his element here in Manhattan since he’s so used to patrolling in Queens. But since May and Happy got married, they all moved to Happy’s apartment in uptown Manhattan, overlooking the massive skyscrapers. And it’s very nice… too nice in fact. Peter misses Queens and the people there, but he still tries to make it back every chance he can get to patrol and continue keeping the streets as safe as he can. It’s just been hard lately with the Tracksuits ramping up their robberies. He’s really going to have to look into those guys.

Tonight, they decided to rob a bunch of luxury stores and a few ATM machines and started robbing another store until Peter got there. It took quite a while to take them all out and they got quite a few good hits in themselves, but Peter managed to take each and every one of them down, webbing them up outside on the street light poles before the police showed up. The whole thing took around half an hour alone, resulting in him being way past his curfew.

“Forty minutes, Peter.” Karen tells him.

Peter lets out a sigh as he twists in the air, rounding the corner of a building onto another street, firing off another web. “I know, Karen.”

He’s so screwed if May or Happy are up.

Hopefully they’re not and they went to bed.

With his luck, probably not.

Peter swings from the web and launches himself in the air, free-falling for a few quick seconds before firing off another web.

“Forty one minutes.”

“Karen, you don’t have to keep telling me.”

“I’m sorry, Peter.”

Peter lets out a sigh as he fires off another web. “It’s okay. How about you tell me the quickest way to get home?”

“Certainly,” Karen says in an upbeat tone as a map pops up in the bottom left corner of his HUD in his left mask lens. “The quickest way home is fifteen minutes. Take the next left.”

“Thanks, Karen!” Peter says as he takes a sharp left up the next street, hoping to get home sooner than fifteen minutes.

…

When Peter finally makes it home, he silently lands on the glass window of his bedroom and goes to lift it, only for it to stay firmly in place.

Crap. I forgot to unlock it before I left. Peter thinks to himself, closing his eyes.

The only other way in he can think of is sneaking in through the patio slider door, which is a little risky. But it’s worth a shot.

Peter starts crawling across the windows, being sure to avoid crawling anywhere near May and Happy’s room, until he makes it to the patio.

“Karen, can you deactivate the security alarm until I’m in?” Peter whispers, peering down to the patio, finding the apartment to be completely dark.

“Certainly. Just a second…” She says, silent for a few moments. “You’re all set. The alarm will turn back on in forty seconds.”

“More than enough time to sneak in.” Peter says as he flips down and lands silently in a crouch, before standing up.

He cautiously walks over to the slider door and pulls, relieved to find it unlocked as he hoped it would be. Peter pulls it open just enough before he slips inside and silently closes it behind him. He stands there for a few seconds, listening for any movement in the apartment but it’s thankfully silent, save for Happy’s snoring coming from down the hallway.

Peter lets out a soft, relieved breath as he starts to walk across the space, passing by the living room on his way towards the hallway leading to his room and to his bed.

He’s so exhausted he could just fall asleep standing up, especially after the fight with the Tracksuits.

A sharp clicking sound comes from behind him as the room is engulfed in a golden, bright light room a lamp.

Peter jumps and spins around, only to find May sitting in the loveseat by the window. She’s wearing her pajamas and bathrobe, her brows pulled together in a displeasing frown.

Oh shit.

“Spider-Man,” She greets. “You’re coming in a bit late, don’t you think?”

Peter pulls his mask off. “I know I-it’s way past curfew but there were these guys-“

May shakes her head with a sigh. “Peter. I know you’re busy and you have responsibilities as Spider-Man but you have a responsibility to come home at a reasonable hour. You know my rules. You come home by eleven-thirty and if you’re going to be late you call me. You failed to do both of those things tonight.”

Peter’s shoulders drop. “I know,” he says. “I just.. I forgot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I kept you up waiting for me.”

May sits there and looks at him before she sighs again, this time softer as she stands up and makes her way over to him. “It’s alright. I know how busy you are out there.” She says as she pulls him into a warm hug.

Peter closes his eyes as he wraps his arms around her, breathing in her lavender perfume. The scent is so familiar and calming, it makes him want to wrap himself up in a blanket and fall asleep.

“I’m sorry I kept you up.” Peter repeats, his words muffled.

“It’s alright.”

A few long seconds pass by before May gives him one final squeeze before pulling back. She squints behind her glasses as she brings a hand up to his forehead, gently brushing her thumb against a particularly sore spot where a bruise must be forming where one of the Tracksuits managed to much him.

“Want some ice for that?” She offers.

Peter shakes his head with a small smile. “No thanks, I think I’m going to just head to bed.”

“Okay. Well you have a goodnight sleep, honey.” She says with a soft smile, hugging him again. “We’re going to have another talk about you breaking curfew in the morning, young man.” She says as she pulls away without any heat behind her words.

Peter sighs, nodding his head. “Okay.”

May kisses the side of his face. “Goodnight, love you.”

“Love you too.” Peter says with a soft smile as he heads towards his room, hearing May turn the lamp off in the living room behind him.

When Peter closes his bedroom door behind himself, he breathes out a sigh as he hits the spider emblem on his chest, feeling his suit loosen around himself, drooping off his shoulders. He pulls on a t-shirt and sweatpants before he gets into bed, letting out a relieved groan when he feels his tight and sore muscles loosen against the soft mattress.

He’s out like a light, not even a few minutes later.

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