#sassy peter

[lovelettersforthedamned]

Too Close For Comfort

--genre + trope: collegeAU! hurt/comfort, angst, sfw (safe for work)

--pairing: tsam!peter parker x gn!reader

--word count: 1.1k

--author's note: FIRST FIC! WE UP!!!

--gif credits: @peachyspaceslvt

Tuesday, October 19 

The late-night air feels crisp during the height of fall. Summer had faded away along with the memories of weekend trips with Peter dancing around in your mind. It had become easier to fall asleep while waiting by your windowsill for your masked hero, but never flawless. You look out of your window to see the gleaming lights of the city reflect back into your eyes. “Every light is another story, another life”, you think to yourself. Trying to distract yourself until Peter comes home is not easy, considering your eyes are threatening to close. You’re dozing off when you hear the groaning of the metal from the fire escape. Your eyes snap open at the familiar sound.

His gloved hand reaches for his dirty mask, the familiar shit-eating grin on his features, “Good Morning, sweetheart.” He’s being a smartass. 

“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” you retort back. You back up from the window as he lets himself into your shared apartment. Your eyes dance across his familiar figure, and that is when you notice a limp in his step as he walks towards you. Turning on a light to confirm your speculations, your eyes lock onto a scarlet red footprint marking your wood floors. “Peter,” your voice comes out in a hushed whisper, “W-what happened?” 

Peter turns, studying his own footprint marking the floors, he chuckles, “Nothing.” Your eyes flick from the mark on the floor back to where he stood, trying to figure out where the blood was coming from. Your gaze locks onto the torn flesh on the left side of his abdomen. Your eyes widen in shock. Rushing towards him, he frowns in defeat. 

“This!” You point at his sides, “This is nothing?” You snap. 

“It’s fine,” his voice comes out flat as he tries to brush past you. 

Trying to reason with him, “In what world is this considered ‘fine’, Peter?” You continue to follow him around the room. Making occasional stops at the kitchen cabinets as you collect supplies to patch him up. 

“In my world, this comes with the job! You wouldn’t understand, sweetheart.”

You stop in your tracks, as you digest the words he barked out. 

He notices the sudden shift in your demeanor and takes a step towards you. You take a step back. “(Y/N), wait-” 

“No, it’s fine,” You raise your hand in defeat, “Since I wouldn’t understand, I’ll leave you to it,” Shoving the supplies into his arms as you walk away. The deafening silence was almost too loud for him to bask in. He winces as he hears the bedroom door slam shut. He can’t move, paralyzed where he stands in the dimly lit kitchen. The thoughts of the moments prior swim around in his mind. A sharp stinging pain pulls him out of his transfixed state. He groans out of annoyance, along with his wound, the weight of his own words ignite a new pain in his chest. 

In their dimly lit bedroom, your glimmering eyes reflect the same city lights you were distracting yourself with not even an hour prior. You’re thinking of the moments that led up to this pointless argument. Thinking back if the dispute was even worth it. Your mind is swallowed by the never-ending spiral of your own thoughts when a faint knock at the door pulls you from the abyss that is your mind. You rise from the comfort of the mattress albeit still smelling like last night's events. 

Opening the door, you’re met with a pale-faced Peter, coated in a sheen layer of sweat. He’s leaning against the doorframe, clearly doubling in pain. He’s still wearing that stupid smirk, the same one he wore earlier. His eyes are half-open, lidded in exhaustion. Muttering a repeated ‘I’m sorry’ before his knees buckle and his broad frame collapses straight into your arms dropping the supplies at your feet. 

Your knees wobble as the weight of your neighborhood Spider-Man nearly crushes you as you lug his unconscious frame towards your bed. Laying him on his back she reels away to assess the situation. Fuck…His suit’s still on. Trying to peel down his suit while he’s passed out is not an easy task. The suit sticking to his damp skin due to the dirt and sweat caked on from his outing earlier that night making it harder than needed. 

You managed to get the suit lower than the injury still bleeding at his side. Quickly you stand, making your way to the abandoned items on the floor. Running them back to Peter as quickly as possible, your hands shake as you drop and sort the things on the bed beside him. You pour the rubbing alcohol onto a washcloth and carefully begin cleaning the perimeter of his wound. His body jolts under your working hands and a small hiss of pain is heard from his lips. His breath comes out as shallow gasps as you continue to work. You look up at him and his mouth is moving, but you can’t hear anything. Your gaze falls back onto the task at hand without hesitation, not knowing that Peter has been mumbling faint apologies this entire time. 

There is more movement coming from him as you continue to work, catching your attention. “(Y/N), I’m sorry.” 

Yet your hands don’t falter at the words, too zoned in on the task at hand. “We’ll talk about it later, just let me help you,” You whisper. The only noise gracing your ears are the sounds of his shallow breaths and the hammer of your own heart in your ears. 

“(Y/N), I didn’t mean to snap I just-” 

Tears begin to form on your lash line, “Peter please,” You beg, “Just let me help you right now.” You glance up at the man through your lashes, He frowns, but he continues to let you work as you finish cleaning the outside of the injury. You grab the small bottle of antibacterial salve, “It’s going to feel cold.” 

Getting a small amount of the paste on your hand you slowly begin to rub it across the laceration. “Fuck,” He groans out of discomfort. You continue to work the remedy around the skin before grabbing the gauze and medical wrap. 

You sniff and clear your throat before asking him, “C-can you sit up a little?” He slowly sits up and his muscles tense under your hands. After laying the gauze, you begin to wrap his abdomen. As you finish your work, that’s when you realize how close you two are. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you look up at him, finding his gaze already melting into yours. Both eyes not threatening to stray from one another, but actually doing the opposite. His gaze softened as a form of an unspoken apology.  

--author's note: what were last night's events??? what are tonight's events???? don't forget to like, reblog, and comment!!! love you bye.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter imagine #andrew garfield peter parker #college au #hurt/comfort #sfw #marvel #angst #light angst #gn reader #tasm!peter oneshot #oneshot #reader insert #sassy peter #first fic

[threefandomsinatrenchcoat]

People think Peter's shy but he just takes "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all" very seriously.

#peter parker #writing inspiration #writing prompt #savage peter #sassy peter #except it's all on the inside #because May and Ben raised him right

[thepressanon]

he is secretive and shit, lying and keeping things etc!!!!

evil!!!

just because he doesnt want to share things doesnt make him evil

maybe your the evil ones for trying to weasel your way into his life

#🎙️ anon #press's letters 📰 #sassy peter

[stxar-pvnk]

Being around Tony stark can take a toll on you, some have to toughen up their skin to endure Tonys remarks, some just drift away from him, not wanting to deal with it.

But Peter?

No he's adapted.

Every snarky remark, and name Peter would be told, he just came back even stronger

"did you seriously forget to do your homework? Again? Don't you have enhanced..everything?"

"Mr stark, If we wanna talk irresponsible, let's talk about the time it seemingly crossed your mind to tell your loved ones you were dying because of the shrapnel in your chest." Peter snarked back

Tony stood frozen, his jaw dropped.

"well..fuck." Tony mumbled trying to contain l laughter at how sudden Peter came up with something like that.

Or another time.

"Peter, let me get you some new shoes." Tony pleaded

Peter sucked on his lollipop and squinted at Tony

"what? No why." Peter asked seemingly shocked

"because they're ratty. And old. And they look like they're gonna fall off or disintegrate at any given time." Tony answered crossing his arms

"why do you even keep them around?" The older one asked completely confused

"your ratty, old and likely to be on your death bed in a few years, why do we keep you around?" Peter snarked back raising an eyebrow.

Rhodey who was just passing through to grab some coffee was howling with laughter doubling over to clutch his stomach.

Sometimes it's not even directed at Tony.

"how do we even know we can trust the kid, he's unreliable" Sams eyes narrowed his voice harsh, but Steve nodded anyways

"I agree with Sam, recruiting a child would be very irresponsible."

Peter who was swinging on his chair, now paying attention in the meeting with the avengers turns to Steve and sam

"oh lord.." Tony muttered as rhodey tried to hide the smug, fond look on his face

"dude, you are 2 times my age, stop complaining and just admit that being an old man is getting to you, plus I can hear your knees snap like glow sticks when you crouch down. it's gross. Also who in this room has 1. A weird bird suit, and 2. Doesn't." Peter finished crossing his arms mirroring Tony. Alot.

"did I just get insulted by a toddler." Sam muttered

Peter is a sassy kid.

Peter is Tony's sassy kid.

#spiderman #tony stark #peter parker #irondad and spider son #iron man #mcu marvel avengers #irondad and spiderson #bamf peter parker #sassy peter parker #peter parker being sassy like his dad

[moonychildxd]

That one moment in The Halfblood Prince book when snape treats Wormtail like a slave lives rent free in my head.

#love sassy snape #severus snape #snape fandom #snart #wormtail #peter pettigrew

[sweetstarryskies]

@wolfstarmicrofic | Draught of the Living Death | 685 words

Note: Mature themes and references to sex, nothing explicit

Sirius and Remus are friends. Best friends. Sure, they might hold eye contact longer than necessary. They might be more touchy with each other than with anyone else. Maybe their banter turns flirtatious so quickly they often don’t even realize. But they are just friends. Friends that flirt sometimes.

Sirius is sitting on the couch closest to the fireplace. He is lazily doodling stars and half-crescent moons all around the instructions for the Draught of the Living Death, not paying attention to the homework assignment he’s supposed to be working on with James. James has his Potions book open as well, he is lounging in an armchair, feet resting on the coffee table in front of him. Peter is sitting on the floor, a piece of parchment on the same table, drawing a Mandrake. Sirius looks up to watch Remus who is sitting on the couch with him, book in his lap, back resting against the armrest, legs spread out across the cushions, feet buried under Sirius’ thighs.

James interrupts the comfortable silence: “Do you ever think about our professors having sex?” 

“What the fuck, James?” Peter groans, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, dropping his feather. Sirius starts cackling and Remus just looks at James, slowly shaking his head. Sirius stops laughing: “Hmmm, honestly, can’t say I have, Prongs. Why? Who would you want to shag out of all of them?” Peter drops his forehand onto the table, mumbling something about being too sober for this conversation. James’ answer comes out a little bit too quickly: “Flitwick.” Sirius nods and hums thoughtfully, Peter sighs and picks his feather back up. Remus looks at Sirius now: “Are you thinking about Minnie?” Sirius stares at him in shock: “Oh, absolutely NOT, Moony. That is revolting. I do have mommy issues, but they do not go that far.” Remus chuckles and looks back down at his book.

“I don’t know,” Peter muses, apparently giving into the others’ nonsense, “I think I could show Minnie a good time.” James throws his head back laughing while Remus is chuckling again. “Oh, please,” Sirius replies, “Pete, you probably think the G-spot is where gangs meet up.” Peter glares at him, head turning red like a tomato. But before he can say anything, James interferes: “And what do you know about G-spots, Pads? Aren’t you ‘as gay as they come,’ like you always say?” The usage of air quotes is accompanied by James’ shit-eating grin. Sirius exclaims, clutching his heart in mock-defense: “Hey! I’ll have you know I’ve had sex with women before my gay awakening.” Remus looks up: “That alone does not speak for your G-spot-finding-abilities,” he deadpans. “Oh, and what makes it your forte, Moony? You’ve never even had sex with a woman, as far as I know,” Sirius replies, smirking back at him.

Before Remus can reply, Peter speaks up: “Actually, I think Moony can make anyone feel good.” Sirius tries to retort something sassy but is caught up by images appearing before his inner eye; ways in which Moony could make someone feel good… 

James’ grin widens when he agrees with Pete: “Yeah, Moony can definitely find any and all important spots.” Sirius just scoffs, and feels himself blushing. Remus wiggles his toes that are buried underneath Sirius’ thighs: “See, Pads?” With that grin that makes Sirius’ heart skip a beat. He stares back for a second too long. Flustered, Sirius averts his eyes to his Potions book, trying to think about draughts instead of dicks.

A moment later, he feels Remus shift, sitting up and scooching over to sit next to Sirius, nudging his shoulder: “Awww, Pads, don’t pout.” Remus leans in closer and lowers his voice to speak quiet enough for only Sirius to hear: “Do you need me to make you feel good?”

At that, Sirius gets up very abruptly, snaps his book shut, throws it back at the couch, and stomps over to the staircase. On his way to the dorm, he can practically feel Remus’ eyes on him.

This whole ‘Friends who Flirt-Thing’ was definitely getting out of hand. 

#wolfstar #marauders fanfiction #this is my first ever piece of writing i am posting #this is nerv wrecking #remus lupin #sirius black #sirius x remus #idiot wolfstar #i like to think they are all very sassy #remus is just waiting for sirius to crack haha #poor pete #sirius is a little shit #remus is so meannn lol #marauders era #peter pettigrew #james potter #one shot: wolfstar

[headcanonthings]

Tony: Don’t touch anything. Peter: Yes, sir! Tony: Don’t call me sir. Peter: Yes, ma’am!

#is peter being sassy or is he just nervous? idk up to you #incorrect quotes #incorrect mcu quotes #incorrect avengers quotes #mcu #marvel #avengers #tony stark #ironman #peter parker #spider-man

[laprettieststar]

>>Not mine<<

#the way we all can relate #remus lupin #sassy lupin #marauders #atyd #peter pettigrew #regulus black #sirius black #james potter #lily evans #the marauders era #atyd marauders

[ljlokijinx]

Steve, discovering modern music: Oh yeah, have you heard of [xyz]'ś music?

Peter: Yeah, it sucks.

Tony: Pete.

Peter: I'll rephrase that because I don't want to get grounded. I respect [xyz] for the music they create, but it's not of the genre I typically listen to.

Bucky: You just said it sucks in a fancy way.

Peter: Did I though? It's the difference between being an asshole and being a polite asshole.

Bucky: I hate polite assholes.

Peter: Thanks!

Bucky: I just told you I hate people who act like you do? Why are you thanking me?

Peter: Because by saying that, you implied you don't want me acting like a polite asshole, which means you basically gave me permission to be a regular asshole to you. *Turns to Steve* Your music taste sucks. Bitch.

#avengers #avengers funny #avengers incorrect scenarios #avengers incorrect quotes #peter parker #spiderman #tony stark #sassy peter parker #steve rogers #captain america #bucky barnes

[lildoodlenoodle]

Peter was so silly for this

#might b one of my favorite panels 😭 #Urich’s face #the way Peter’s standing. the view of his face we have #Peter opening the light on the dark room where photographs are still being processed #how sassy Peter is #spider noir #spiderman noir #peter benjamin parker

[tardxsblues]

he's had enough

#doctor who #dwedit #dwgifs #twelve #twelfth doctor #dws8 #episode: dark water #peter capaldi #gif warning #i love sassy twelve #i don't know about the colouring here but oh well

[savesavva]

drawing man men is so hard guys ..... save me.......

#fanart #artwork #tma fanart #sketch #tma #peter lukas #elias bouchard #lonelyeyes #my mom saw the first picture and said i drew an auntie. mom #sassy aunt elias when

[itsagentromanoff]

[Bucky and Sam are mad at Peter]

Bucky: I have a license to kill.

Peter: [shrugs] So? I have a learners permit.

[Tony high fives Peter]

#original: our lips are sealed #robert downey jr #sebastian stan #tom holland #tony stark #bucky barnes #peter parker #anthony mackie #sam wilson #dad tony stark #sassy peter parker #the avengers #non avengers quotes #quoting the avengers

[stxar-pvnk]

Is it just me or do we not focus around on how sassy Peter is. Like...in fics I'll see soft Peter, when c'mon guys, petey pie comes up with silly names and dialog while something is getting hurtled at him or he's getting throttled.

#spiderman #peter parker #sassy Peter parker #peter is awesome #mcu #mcu marvel avengers #marvel mcu

[neyney2010]

Lily: Just try going on a date with him!

Remus: No!

Lily: But you said you wanted a serious relationship! he wants one to!

Remus: I said I wanted a Sirius relationship actually...

Lily: ...

Lily: Is that not what I fcking said?

Peter *Who was trying not to get involved*: ... oh fUCK MOONY!!

#harry potter #marauders #marauders era #sirius black #james potter #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #wolfstar #sassy peter pettegrew #platonic moonflower

[aindyghosh]

Fix Me Up (IronDad fic)

Peter hated formalities.

No, that was too mild a word to describe his feelings on the topic. Peter despised formalities.

Detested them. Abhorred. Loathed. And any other synonym that Oxford had come up with to date that he’d be able to remember as soon as Peter’s mind returned to the right track.

As it was, Peter’s brain felt all jumbled and disoriented, as if he were in a daze, because the morning sniffles he’d dismissed as a reaction to the accumulated dust in his room were, in reality, a case of severe cold due to the weather fluctuations that New Yorkers were experiencing and thus, very much not insignificant.

The last time Peter had fallen ill was three years ago before a visit to OsCorp had juiced him up on a — what would probably be perceived as ‘freakish’ — spider-serum (well, it was more of a spider-bite than a full-fledged serum, but that was what he called it, anyway) that turned his vision into a ten out of ten, dialled his senses to an eleven, and for the initial few months, made him stick to pretty much every surface available. No, that wasn’t a double entendre of any kind. It had been a real issue, thank you very much, until he had hauled control of it into his own hands.

Now one might ask, how did his sickness tie into his hatred for formalities?

Well, it was like this: Peter was sick, all he wanted to do at the moment was go home, politely refuse Aunt May’s chicken broth that was more likely to send him to the ER than to make him feel any better, allow sleep to treat him like he was dead until he was ready to return to the land of the living, and the fever, with any luck, would subside by the time he woke up again.

He didn’t think these were, in any manner, unreasonable demands.

Yet, his school acted as though he’d broken into Nexus and stolen the nuclear codes that he could access on Mr Stark’s servers.

Not that he’d ever say that to anyone because it would be incriminating Mr Stark, even though he was around eighty-three per cent sure it was one of those open secrets that everybody knew but pretended they didn’t. Adults were so complicated.

Regardless, coming back to the point, Aunt May was unreachable over the phone, which Peter had already suspected would be the case because she had a very important meeting with some angel investors who had expressed interest in the latest venture that her NGO was trying to set up for victims of domestic abuse.

Peter had said that to both Mr Harrington and Principal Morita, and had practically begged to be permitted to leave because anybody with a functional pair of eyes could see that he wasn’t faking an illness for the fun of it (Principal Morita had blanched at the hundred-and-three-degree temperature the thermometer had displayed; apparently, the spider-serum had increased his body’s tolerance to the extent where he didn’t keel over while burning up, but still, it would’ve been nice to not fall sick at all).

They had denied his request, of course. Formalities. See why he despised them?

With Peter being miserable in the infirmary and Aunt May not answering her calls, the natural next step in the administrative process was to either call the second emergency contact tagged to his name or the hospital.

Peter had put his foot down when Mr Harrison had tried to make noise in favour of the latter choice. Whether it was his uncharacteristic blunt protest or the pitiful murmur he had exhaled for being too exhausted to attempt anything else, Principal Morita had, though begrudgingly, relented.

That had stripped them down to one option. The second emergency contact. And that was where the root of all his problems laid.

Even when he had been one of the sickliest children, Peter’s file had been empty of a secondary contact since Uncle Ben’s demise because, besides Aunt May, he hadn’t had any such person in his life. But two years ago, his Aunt May had applied to add one.

Tony S.

It had been Mr Stark’s idea after their initial application had been rejected because “there is no way Tony Stark is your emergency contact, Peter; such kind of pranks will not be tolerated!”

As insistent as Ms. Banks was on not being taken for a fool, she hadn’t batted an eyelid when Peter had submitted the revised application with the name tweaked from “Tony Stark” to “Tony S”. At the time, like in one of those really old movies, Mr Stark’s “People are gullible, Peter! They think they know and understand everything when they barely see a quarter of the full picture,” had echoed through his head like a voiceover.

But he was digressing. The point he was trying to make was that despite the fact his school hadn’t, and still didn’t, believe that he had an internship — which wasn’t even a lie — with Stark Industries, much less that Mr Stark would ever agree to be his secondary contact (if Peter was being honest, he too found it ridiculous and surreal sometimes that Mr Stark had been listed as one of his emergency contacts), he hadn’t imagined that Principal Morita and Mr Harrington would stammer say an outright “no” to the man’s very face.

Peter watched, perched on the uncomfortable bed that threatened to make a germaphobe out of him, as Mr Stark’s face underwent a long series of varied emotions until it began oscillating between intrigued amusement and concerned frustration.

“I am his secondary emergency contact,” Mr Stark stressed for the third time. “You saw the papers! They have May’s signature! Why, on God’s holy green earth—” ( Ooh, the fancy curses were coming out now. When Mr Stark started saying things like “God” and “holy”, the best course of action was to run.) “—would I want to compromise your records? Do I look like a kidnapper?” Principal Morita failed to reply within a satisfactory period because Mr Stark pinched the bridge of his nose for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Someone was developing a new anxious tic. “Why would I want to kidnap a student, Principal Morita?”

“We don’t think you’re trying to kidnap him, per se,” Mr Harrison swiftly cut in, seeing as Principal Morita seemed more interested in mimicking a fish and flailing his hands like an octopus. “But surely, you must see why we’d be, um, sceptical about allowing Peter to go with you?”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

Mr Harrington waved his hands in vague gestures, not unlike Principal Morita but he resembled more of an orangutan. “You are Tony Stark.”

“I’m aware, but thanks for the reminder.” Mr Stark deadpanned, his flat features compensating for the raw vulnerability in his eyes as he kept shooting Peter worried glances. “Look, this argument is entirely pointless.” You tell ‘em, Mr Stark! “I have a sick child to take care of—” He wasn’t a child! He was an almost-adult! That was a thing! “—and he can do with some treatment that is not in this horrible room. Is this what you call an infirmary? You know what, it doesn’t matter! I will need Peter to come with me pronto.”

Principal Morita stood up taller as if something in Mr Stark’s speech had vindicated him. “That is what a kidnapper would say.”

“No, a mugger would say that while robbing somebody. Go on, accuse me of petty theft as well while you’re at it.”

Principal Morita stuttered something out, but whether that was in response to Mr Stark’s utterly unimpressed face or Mr Harrison elbowing him in the rib, Peter wasn’t sure.

The ongoing conversation gradually morphed into unintelligible white noise, overwhelming while being muffled at the same time, like being pulled out of the water after a long time under, the sound of waves rushing ringing in one’s ears and deafening them to their surroundings but unable to mitigate the imposing presence of the people around.

“M’st’r St’k?” After a short second, his brain-addled self wondered if he’d managed to get the words out in the world or if they had died a premature death on his tongue.

“Peter?”

Maybe he had. “I d’n’t f’el sss...g’d, M-St’k—”

💖

Peter blinked. And frowned when his view refused to stop swaying between pitch black and black with spots of red and green in it.

It was another moment before he realised his eyes were still closed.

Oops.

When his eyes fluttered open, it wasn’t to Midtown High’s infirmary that left much to be desired, but to a clean white ceiling with a familiar huge and fancy circle of light decorating the middle which his brain placed right away.

The Avengers Compound’s MedBay.

He had a love-hate relationship with this corner of the compound, in that his body loved to end up here, at least, once a week while he had to actively hold himself back from cursing like a pirate anytime someone so much as mentioned the wing.

“FRIDAY?” He asked in a tone that even his brain thought suited an eighty-year-old, weary of the world, than a teenage kid with superpowers. No, not superpowers. That made him sound narcissistic and ostentatious. Spidey-powers. There, much better. “How long was I out this time?”

“You missed both lunch and dinner, if that answers your question,” came the reply from the person who was very much not FRIDAY.

“Mr Stark!” He attempted to sit up to no avail, Mr Stark’s firm grip on his shoulders gently pushing him back on the bed. Peter might have been stronger but Mr Stark was much more stubborn and a lot less prone to listening.

“How’re you feeling, kid?”

“Fine, actually, y’know, given everything.” He was no longer burning up, his skin didn’t crawl, the pounding in his head had subsided, and nothing felt jammed up his nose. All in all, he felt much more in control of himself. At least, the spider-serum worked fast.

“Good, because I need to yell at you and I’d prefer to do that while you’re not being miserable in your own body.”

“Oh, come on, Mr Stark! I didn’t even do anything this time!”

“Yeah?” The man’s eyes narrowed at him in that manner where, historically, it meant he had yet to decide whether to be angry with him or let himself show his amusement at his antics. Usually, the latter won out after a few minutes of forced yelling which was more to help keep up his façade of a responsible adult than anything else. Here’s to hoping! “Then was it your clone who assured your Aunt May in the morning that you were okay and, in fact, healthy enough to attend school?”

Had Peter been sitting, he would have bowed his head or looked away. Since he was currently laid out helpless on the bed as Mr Stark hovered over him like a concerned parent mentor, bowing his head wasn't on the table and looking away could be considered impolite. Mr Stark didn’t take kindly to rudeness and Peter was in no mood to be tickled.

“Sorry, Mr Stark.” Apologising? Now that came much more naturally to him. Mr Stark said it was a problem. Peter wasn’t so sure.

“What are you sorry for?”

That sounded like a trick question. Peter eyed the other man with carefully concealed suspicion. “For falling sick?”

Mr Stark sighed in that exasperated way that was typically followed up with something either deeply profound or extremely heartfelt, and in both cases, Peter would be left speechless and a tiny smidge teary-eyed.

“Don’t be sorry for falling sick, Peter! How would you feel if I apologised for getting hurt on a mission?”

Peter shrugged. “Good, actually, because then it would mean you’ll try not to throw yourself in the active line of gunfire when the next fight comes along.” After a moment, he added, “And maybe a tiny bit worried if you said the word ‘sorry’.”

“Pot, kettle, Underoos.” Mr Stark rolled his eyes. “And stop distracting me from the real issue here.”

“There’s no real issue, Mr Stark—”

“You should have told May that you had a fever, Pete.” He didn’t have a fever in the morning! “She was so scared when she saw the missed calls. She almost hitched a ride with Karen.”

“She hates Karen.” Peter’s mumble was barely audible, but somehow Mr Stark heard it.

“I know. I talked her down from blowing her dinner invitation with the investors. She’ll be here in another—” He spared a glance at his expensive wristwatch. “—fifteen minutes or so.”

“Thanks, Mr Stark! I didn’t mean to cause any problems—”

“You didn’t,” Mr Stark said, his voice soft. “We just worry, Pete. You’d know when you reach our age and have to look after a hyperenergetic kid who can’t seem to keep out of trouble.”

“That’s right, Peter!” FRIDAY chimed in. “Boss nearly went into a panic attack at the thought of you being hurt.”

Mr Stark immediately hushed his AI, but FRIDAY made even her silence seem...smug.

“I didn’t.” Mr Stark was convincing nobody. He was such a mother-hen.

Peter shook his head with a small smile. “This won’t happen again, Mr Stark, I promise.”

“Yes. Please remember, we’re all here for you, okay?” The man squeezed his hand. His touch was warm and assuring, and it grounded Peter.

“I didn’t expect a few sneezes to turn into a fever. I’d thought the serum had taken care of that.”

“Me too. I have talked with Bruce. If you are fine with him taking a couple of samples, he’s agreed to look into it.”

“Sure.” A year ago, he’d have been uncomfortable at the prospect of Doctor Bruce Banner wasting his precious time on something as insignificant as Peter’s blood tests. But Mr Stark had beaten the so-called “self-deprecation” out with his snarky retorts and sassy eye-rolls, and Doctor Banner had, after returning from “the garbage planet” (not his words), become something of a second mentor to him.

Also, this was for science. Doctor Banner was always interested in analysing the dos and don’ts and powers and the side effects of the spider-serum.

“Boss, Forehead of Security is pulling up into the driveway with Mrs Parker as we speak.”

“Oh, goody! She can take over the yelling now. FRI, order some pizza!”

“On it!”

“Mr Stark!” Peter called for the man with a tone of voice that, to unsuspecting people, might have sounded whiny, but really, it wasn’t. “Save me!”

“Nope! You deserve it!”

“I promise I won’t do it again!”

“FRI, remind the young lad of the last time he’d said the same thing, please.”

“Three weeks ago, on the twenty-ninth of March, at 8:14 in the evening, Peter Parker had promised not to hide anything from Tony Stark and May Parker ever again post a two-hour surgery for failing to alert anybody after getting shot while stopping a bank robbery.”

Peter resisted the urge to pout. “FRIDAY! You didn’t have to recount in such detail.”

“I am not programmed to recite half-information, Peter.” She was trolling him. He could feel it in his bones.

“Hah!” Mr Stark crowed. “I am so proud of you, baby girl.”

“Boss, I have done some research and I have arrived at a conclusion.”

Peter’s heart hammered at the declaration. What now?

“Oh? Let’s hear it, then!”

“I have looked into various published papers on human behaviour and the possible environmental factors that may have an impact on it, and I have deduced that Peter Parker’s tendency to hide his injuries and downplay his struggles are identical to your documented traits.”

It took a visible minute for Mr Stark to realise what transpired, and when he did, he let out an outraged screech that would have put a whole colony of bats to shame. 

Peter sucked in his cheeks.

“Are you implying I’m a bad influence on the kid, FRIDAY?”

“No, I’m saying that you and Peter are in the same boat, and both of you panic when the other gets hurt yet none of you do anything to set an example for the other, and since you, Boss, can be argued to be the adult in this relationship—” She bravely ignored Mr Stark’s squeak of protest, and pressed on, “the responsibility of not being a hypocrite, unfortunately, falls on you.” FRIDAY finished with a flourish. Peter could hear the flourish.

A beat of silence.

“That’s it! I’m donating you to City College. How dare you insinuate that I’m a responsible adult. I hate being responsible!”

And that was the point where Peter absolutely and hilariously lost it.

He was soon joined by Mr Stark, who was more giggling than guffawing like Peter. When the titters and the chortles were on the verge of subsiding, FRIDAY played an audio recording of a woman cackling as a representation of her own emotions, and the riot powered up again.

That was, of course, until the door to his room — yes, he had been in the MedBay a sufficient number of times for Mr Stark to designate a room specially for him — was pushed open and a harried May rushed in only to be greeted by the sight of Peter and Tony all but rolling over the floor laughing.

Peter’s ears rang with her screaming for days after that.

#peter parker #tony stark #protective tony stark #sick peter parker #irondad and spiderson #attempted humour #cross-posted on ao3 #sassy FRIDAY #tony stark acting as peter parker's parental figure #tony stark is good with kids