Chapter Twelve: And Now They're Outside Ready To Bust, It Looks Like You Might Be One Of Us
Over the next few weeks, Tony made sure to ask Peter for a lot more favors. They varied from small and innocent to not so small and illegal. But he makes sure to charm and coddle Peter enough that the boy canât refuse him.
After the note, he asked for a cheeseburger.
Then the guardsâ schedule.
Then his favourite blend of coffee.
Then a patientâs file.
Then a deck of cards.
And finally, a blueprint of the facility.
His escape is almost within reach now. All he needs is one more thingâŚ
â--
âIâve been thinkingâ, Tony says in the middle of their next session.
Peter looks up, his brows furrowing in question. âAbout?â
âAbout getting out of here.â Tony holds the boysâ gaze, letting the words hang in the air, waiting for a response.
âYou want to break out?â The high-pitched tone and the worried expression make it clear Peter isnât on board with the idea at all. But Tony knows exactly how to get him there.
âI canât stand just sitting in this fucking cell any longerâ, Tony says, voice low. âAnd I really want to be able to touch you, baby. Donât you want that too?â
Peterâs expression softens slightly. âOf course, I do. Itâs just⌠Theyâll be after you again and Iâll still be here. Then I wonât get to see you at all.â
âAw, baby, do you really think Iâm just gonna go and leave you behind?â
Peter pushes up his glasses avoiding eye contact, when he answers, âI mean, yeah.â
Tony leans forward into Peterâs space, forcing the boy to meet his eyes again. âIâm gonna take you with me obviously.â
âYou will?â Peter asks with a big smile on his face. âBut what about my job? I donât have any savings, I need the money to pay for my apartment and groceries.â
âSweetheart, you wonât have to work ever again. Youâll live with me and you can have anything you want. God knows I got enough money to last for more than one lifetime of luxury.â
âYouâre kidding.â
âDo I look like Iâm kidding?â Tony gestures at himself to get his point across.
âNo, butâŚâ
âExactly, because Iâm not. I want to take care of you. Will you let me do that?â
Peter hesitates, clearly turning it over in his mind. âOkay. Yes. Iâd love to. Thank you.â
âOf course, baby, youâre welcome. But for us to do that first I need to get out of here. And I need your help with something for that.â
âWhat do I need to do?â Peter sounds almost eager and he doesnât even know what heâs supposed to do. The smile that forms on Tonyâs face feels almost genuine, though heâs sure thatâs just the satisfaction of his plan working out.
âFuck, youâre perfect. Itâs really simple. You just need to trigger the fire alarm on my signal. Iâll text you when itâs time, okay?â
â--
His men need a few more days to get every detail prepared for Tonyâs escape. This time heâs going to get out. Heâs sure of it. And when heâs out of here heâs going for revenge.
Heâs going to show all of New York that he is noone to be messed with. Barnes is going to get what he deserves for getting him here. And PeterâŚ
Peter, who carved himself a place in Tonyâs brain without consent. Who tried to get Tony to believe. To hope.
Heâs going to regret ever stepping foot inside this asylum.
Tony smiles at the thought and clicks send on the message. Not even two minutes later the fire alarm siren blares through the facility. Gun shots echo shortly after that and Tonyâs smile turns even wider as he waits.
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Peter wakes up from the best sleep heâs had in a long time. He stretches his limbs and turns off the alarm on his phone. And glancing at his phone, the memories of last night come rushing back to him.
He texted with Mr. Stark. More like sexted. Tony gave him instructions and he followed them, calling the man daddy while doing so. They basically had phone sex.
And Peter liked it. A lot. He came harder than ever before.
Though heâs not sure how to look Tony in the eye today after doing all that. And heâs nervous about the favour Tony asked him for. But these are problems for later.
His current problem is his hardening dick. He usually has morning wood and today is no different. But the thoughts of Tony and what they did last night make it much harder to ignore.
Usually he just takes a cold shower or wills it away, but today he takes his time in the shower jerking off. He thinks of Tony and how it could have gone if the man had actually been there last night.
How it would feel to have Tonyâs fingers inside him, instead of his own. Maybe even his dick.
The picture of Tonyâs cock at the forefront of his mind, he comes against the shower tiles. Heâs still turned on but too sensitive to keep going and he doesnât want to be late for work.
So he washes up and gets going.
â--
The work day flies by. Peter spends it in his thoughts and buzzing with nerves.
Before he knows it he is back in Tonyâs cell, locking eyes with the man that has occupied his thoughts for weeks by now.
Tonyâs face is split open by a wide grin as Peter enters. âThere he is. How is my favourite doctor doing today?â
âIâm good, you?â Peterâs eyes flit around unable to hold eye contact with Tony but unsure of where to look instead.
âYou seem different. Got cold feet, second thoughts?â
âNo!â, he answers too fast and too loud. Then softer he adds, âIâm just embarrassed. I donât know what to do knowing what weâve talked about. And what weâve, you know, done.â
âAw, baby, you feeling shy?â
Peter pushes up his glasses and shrugs. âWell, yeah.â
âYou liked what we did though, right?â
âYes, of course.â
âAnd I did too. And seeing as we both enjoyed it, thereâs no need to be shy, right?â
âI guess... Itâs just that I never did anything like this with anyone before and I donât know how to act now.â
Tony leans forward into Peterâs space, leaving almost no room for him to look somewhere other than Tonyâs handsome face. âNo acting, baby. Just you and me, like every other day before, okay? Though I do find it impossibly hard not to be able to touch you."
Peter swallows hard, blushing. In that moment he decides he doesnât want to stay passive. And with every bit of courage he can muster, he says, âI want that too.â
âSoon, sweetheart. Iâll make it possibleâ, Tony says confidently.
âHow would that even work?â
âDonât rack your brains over that. Just let me do what I do best.â
âOkay, but please donât do anything reckless.â
âI canât promise that. Reckless is my middle name after all.â
âHahaâ, Peter says, voice dripping with sarcasm. âI know for a fact that your middle name is Edward.â
âOh, I see how it is. Somebody has been doing some stalking.â
âItâs not stalking, itâs working. It was literally in your file.â
âSure, keep telling yourself that.â
Peter rolls his eyes. âYouâre so cocky.â
âYou like it.â Tony shrugs.
âI know.â
For a moment neither of them says anything. They just look at each other smiling as if they have a secret together. Which, to be fair, they do.
Tony is the first to speak again. âSo, about that favour⌠you still up for it?â
Peterâs nerves are back in an instant, his smile shrinking. He doesnât want to do anything that could potentially get him or Tony in trouble. Especially when he canât even know any details about it. But he also doesnât want to disappoint Tony.
âYesâ, he says carefully.
âThatâs great, baby, thank you.â Tony glances over to the window, checking if someone is watching before he holds something out to him. Peter takes the piece of paper and quickly puts it in one of his coat pockets.
âSo, what do I have to do exactly?â
âItâs really simple. You just need to meet a friend of mine tonight, Iâll text you the address, and then you give him the note.â
âThatâs it?â
âThatâs itâ, Tony nods. âOh, and no peeking.â
âOkay.â
â--
His session with Tony is over far too quickly. As it always is.
Before and after Bucky had tried to get him to talk again, but Peter just ignored him knowing that Bucky canât do anything about it while being on guard.
Peter has only one more hour of work to get through now. Heâs still restless, nervous. Maybe even more so now that Tony sent him the address heâs supposed to go to.
One firm knock on his door is the only warning he gets before the door is being pulled open and Director Furyâs voice echoes through the room. âDr. Parker, a word.â
There are probably a million thoughts running through Peterâs mind all at the same time. What is Fury doing here? What does he want to talk about? Is this about Tony? Does Fury know he lied on his session protocols? Or worse, does he know about them? Is he going to lose his job? Will he do something to Tony?
Peter tries to school his face in a relaxed expression with an easy smile. Heâs pretty sure heâs failing at it. âOf course, Sir. Please, take a seat.â
The man sits and looks at him with a stern face. Peter feels nervous sweat all over his body and his heart is racing so fast heâs sure heâs going to have a heart attack.
âDr. Parker, Iâve been getting several concerned talks about you by Mr. Barnes. Whatâs that about?â
Peter gulps. âIâm not sure, Sir. What did he say?â
âWell, Mr. Barnes seems to think that youâve been acting differently. He believes that maybe Stark has gotten to you.â
Oh no. Why would Bucky talk about this with Fury? Peter needs to turn this around otherwise heâs going to lose his job, or Tony will get the consequences for it. And then maybe they couldnât see each other again. He needs to think fast.
Then an idea forms. Itâs nothing like anything Peter would have ever done before, but he couldnât let Bucky ruin what he has with Tony.
âTo be quite honest with you, Sir, I have been acting differentlyâ, he starts. âYou probably donât know this but Bucky and I actually went on a couple of dates. When I decided I couldnât see myself with him in the long run he didnât handle it well. He tried looking for another reason for my decision other than that I didnât want him. So he blamed it on Mr. Stark. And that didnât sit right with me. Heâs a dangerous criminal, yes, but thereâs no reason to put him in the middle of this.â
âDoes this have anything to do with Bucky beating up Stark the other day?â
Peter hesitates, then says, âYes. We had a fight before that and when I ran out sick, he thought that Mr. Stark mustâve threatened me.â
âThat doesnât sound like Barnes at allâ, Fury says contemplatively. âThough he always did seem a bit out of it when it came to Stark. It might be possible that your relations were the final straw for him.â
Peter doesnât confirm nor deny. He just waits for Fury to continue.
âWell, Dr. Parker, Iâm very sorry about this whole fiasco. I will have a talk with Barnes and I think it might be best to pull him off Starkâs guard. Itâs a shame because Barnes being there really seems to bug Stark, but we canât let your progress with him go to waste or be disturbed by this.â
âThank you, Sir.â Peter nods and Fury leaves. After the door is closed and Peter is alone in his office again, he lets out a deep breath of relief.
â--
Itâs 8 pm. Peter is standing in a dark alley waiting for Tonyâs friend. Heâs not sure what to expect.
The note is burning a hole through the pocket of his jeans. He hasnât looked at it, just like heâd promised. He wants to be good for Tony. And heâs sure that the man would know if he looked at it.
A sudden voice directly behind him breaks through the silence. âHey, you Peter?â
Peter turns around startled and looks at the man. Heâs taller than Peter, dark skin and dark clothes. âYes. Are you Tonyâs friend?â Peter asks warily.
The man nods, but doesnât state a name. Peter remembers calling his friend Rhodey, but thatâs probably a nickname. âSo, you got something for me, kid?â
Peter hastily pulls out the note and hands it to the man. âYes, of course. Here you go, Sir.â
Peter doesnât answer, but heâs thankful for the darkness of the alley covering up the blush on his cheeks. The man unfolds the note and then pulls out his phone for light. Peter watches as he turns it around again and again. âWhat the fuck? Is this a joke, kid?â
Peterâs eyes widen in shock. He doesnât know whatâs happening. He doesnât even know what the note says. âIâm sorry, Sir. I donât know what the note says, but I promise it is from Tony and I donât have anything to do with this.â
âItâs empty.â
âWhat?â
âThereâs nothing on the fucking note.â
âWhat? Iâm sorry. This must be a mistake. Iâll call Mr. Stark and heâll knowâŚâ Peter frantically pulls out his phone and thumbs up Tony's contact.
âYou have his number?â The other man asks seemingly bewildered by the prospect.
âWell, yesâ, Peter says in between phone rings.
Then Tonyâs voice comes through. âPeter?â
âMr. Stark? Iâm sorry for calling. I didnât look at the note, like you said, but he says thereâs nothing on it. I didnât exchange it or anything. I donât know whatâs wrong.â
âNothingâs wrong, baby. You were perfect. Let me speak to Rhodey, okay?â
âOkayâ, Peter says and hands over his phone to the stranger.
âTony? What the fuck is this?â The man shouts into the phone.
Peter canât hear what Tony says even though he tries. He just hears Rhodeyâs side:
âAnd you couldnât have told me before?â
âYouâre a fucking dick, you know that?â
âFine, talk to you later. Bye.â
After that Rhodey turns to Peter and holds out the phone to him. âTony wants to talk to you, kid.â
Peter takes the phone and watches the other man leave. âMr. Stark? Whatâs going on?â
âYou passed.â
It takes a moment for the words to register before Peter understands. âYou tested me?â
âOf course I did.â Peter isnât surprised by the answer, but it still stings.
âWhy?â
âPetey⌠do you really think I can just trust anybody?â Peter wants to argue that he isnât just anybody. But he stops. Tony is a criminal. There are countless people who want to get to him and make him pay for both his past crimes and the ones he continues to commit.
âNo.â
âThatâs right. But donât worry, baby. You did great. Now how about you get your cute little ass home and into bed?â
âOkay.â Despite everything, Peter smiles. A warm feeling settles inside his chest. Tony trusts him.
Chapter Ten: Enter In And Up Under Your Skin Like A Splinter
âI want it.â
Tonyâs smile becomes even bigger. Satisfaction settles heavily in his chest. He lured Peter into his trap and it just snapped shut.
âGoodâ, he says leaning back in his chair. His eyes are never leaving Peter's, watching every change in his expression. Now he looks unsure of how to proceed, what to do with Tonyâs answer.
âGood?â
âVery goodâ, he nods. âFuck, I really want to touch you, baby.â And Tony has to admit to himself that it was the truth. He does want to touch Peter. But who can blame him? Peter is like an angel and Tony wants to defile him.
âReally?â Tony thrives in the questions for approval. The insecurity in Peterâs voice makes his blood boil.
âYou have no idea what you do to me, do you?â
âNot reallyâ, Peter negates. âWhat do I do to you?â
âFishing for compliments, are we?â Tony grins.
âSorry, itâs just⌠Youâre you and I am me. And I donât really understand how you could be interested, you know?â
âDamn, you really donât know.â Tony shakes his head in disbelief. âSweetheart, youâre the whole fucking package. Youâre smart, funny, pretty. And even though you donât see it, others do. Bucky did.â
The reminder of Bucky seems to shake Peter. He glances over to the window and pushes his glasses further up his nose. âI think I need to go now.â
Tony smiles. âOf course, you need to go do your job. I canât wait to see you again tomorrow.â
After Peter leaves, Tony is freed from his cuffs and left alone in his cell. He doesnât waste any time before taking his phone from its hiding place and texts his right hand man Rhodey to get him Peterâs phone number.
He needs to stay on top of the situation and not let Peter think about it for too long. Therefore he needs another way of staying in touch except from the daily sessions.
Within an hour he got the phone number. Now he just needs to wait until itâs late enough to be safe Peterâs at home, so he can contact him in private.
â--
T: hey baby, miss me?
P: Who is this? I think you have the wrong number.
T: petey, donât play. you know who I am
P: Tony?
T: bingo
P: How did you get my number?
T: one of my men got it for me. i couldnât wait until tomorrow to talk to you again
P: Wait. How do you even have a phone in there?
T: shh, thatâs a secret
T: so, do you?
P: Do I what?
T: miss me
P: Youâre crazy
T: i know, even got the diagnosis and everything
T: didnât answer my question tho
T: for the record, i do
P: You miss me?
T: why else would i work on getting your number and
T: texting you just a few hours after having seen you
T: petey?
P: Sorry. Just thinking
P: You really got my number through one your men?
T: of course, thatâs what i have them for
P: To get in contact with your current plaything?
T: oh darling, are you jealous?
P: No.
T: liar
T: and for you information, youâre my only plaything
P: That sounds creepy.
T: you like it
P: Maybe a little
T: knew it
T: whatcha doing?
P: Lying in bed
T: thinking bout me? ;)
P: Youâre unbelievable
T: thatâs not a no
P: What about you?
T: what about me?
P: What are you doing?
T: oh you mean aside from all the great leisure activities you get in jail?
T: iâm lying in my kingsized luxury bed with silk sheets, enjoying my life
T: and iâm definitely thinking bout you
P: Wow. Sounds amazing
T: it is
P: Liar
T: you got me
T: maybe the bed is concrete
P: Maybe?
T: okay, itâs definitely concrete
T: still thinking bout you tho
P: Iâm thinking about you tooâŚ
T: I KNEW IT!
P: Hard not to when you keep texting me
T: are you saying thatâs the only reason youâre thinking bout me?
P: No..
T: what are you thinking about?
T: come on, petey, donât get shy on me again
T: you did so well with all the sass
T: really gets me going
P: I was thinking about what you said earlier.
T: which part?
T: i said a lot of things
P: About Bucky
T: ah
P: The whole âheâs not what you needâ thing
T: and?
P: Did you mean it?
T: i donât say things i donât mean
P: Thatâs definitely not true
T: fair
T: but this is
T: youâve been thinking about this the whole evening?
P: I mean, yeah
P: Youâre Tony Stark
T: and youâre peter parker
P: You donât get the point.
T: i really donât
T: sweetheart, youâre everything a man like me dreams about
T: and i mean that quite literally
P: You had a dream about me?
T: *dreams
T: quite regularly
P: What happened in them?
T: oh, all kinds of stuff
T: kissing you until you run out of breath
T: licking all over your body, tasting every inch of your skin
T: jerking your pretty little cock until you cum all over yourself
T: having your lips around my cock, my hands in your hair
T: opening you up on my fingers, until youâre ready to take my cock
T: youâre blushing, arenât you?
P: Youâre not here. You canât know that.
T: donât need to be
T: do you like it?
T: to know that i think about you like that
P: Yes
T: does it turn you on?
P: Yes
T: are you hard right now, baby?
P: Yes
T: such a good boy, answering all my questions
T: fuck, just thinking about you lying in your bed all hard for me
T: are you touching your little cock?
P: Yeah
T: iâm so hard right now
P: Really?
T: yeah, really
T: youâre so hot, sweetheart
P: You canât even see me
T: my imaginationâs pretty good
T: you want to see how hard i am for you, so youâll finally believe me?
P: Please
T: always so polite
T: give me a second
Picture sent
T: did i lose you?
T: or did my pic blow your brains out
P: Itâs really big
T: yeah, you like it, baby?
P: Yes
T: would you like to touch it?
T: suck it?
P: Yes
T: come on, baby
T: donât be shy
T: your messages arenât exactly screaming enthusiastic consent here
P: Sorry
P: Iâm really nervous
T: i know, sweetheart
T: but daddy needs something to work with here
T: think you can do that?
P: Yes
T: Yes�
P: Yes, daddy, I can do that
T: good boy
T: fuck, i want to ruin you
P: Want that too, daddy
T: want me to help you cum?
P: Yes, please
T: tell me, baby
T: have you ever played with your sweet virgin hole
T: or do you only ever touch your little cock?
P: The second one
T: aw, babyâs too shy to even write it
T: thatâs sweet
T: bet you taste like it as well
T: you want to try touching your hole for daddy?
P: I donât know how
T: daddy is gonna tell you how
P: Okay, daddy, I can try
T: good boy
T: okay, first you need to change your position
T: elbows and knees, baby
P: Done
T: perfect
T: now take your index and middle finger into your mouth
T: lick and suck them
T: make em real wet for me
T: answering might get kinda difficult with only your one hand
T: but iâm sure you can manage
T: right, baby?
P: Yes, daddy, Iâll try
T: okay, sweetheart
T: now take those fingers out
T: spread the spit around your hole
T: just the outside, no skipping ahead
T: how does it feel?
P: Itâs cold and wet, but kind of good, I think
T: youâre doing great, petey
T: now slowly put one finger in
T: deep breaths and relax to make it easier
P: Itâs in
P: Feels weird
T: just leave it inside for a moment
T: no moving
T: just get used to the feeling
P: Okay, daddy
T: fuck, baby
T: almost came just thinking about putting my fingers in your perfect ass
T: fucking you with them until youâre loose and sloppy for daddy
P: Yes, please
T: how you feelin now, petey?
P: Feels nice, daddy, can I move?
T: such a good boy for asking
T: yes, baby, you can move
T: but donât take it out completely
T: just move your finger back and forth
T: and donât rush it
P: Okay, taking it slow
P: Feels really good
T: iâm sure it does
P: Itâs kind of hard to reach though
T: i know, baby
T: but donât worry
T: when i get my hands on you, you donât have to move a single muscle
T: just need to lie there and look pretty for me
T: daddyâs little pillow princess
P: Please, daddy
T: put your second finger in, sweetheart
T: i know you can take it
P: Feel so full
T: oh, you donât know full
T: just imagine daddyâs cock in that tight little hole of yours
T: iâm going to wreck you
T: ruin you for every other man
P: Daddy, please..
T: what do you want, baby?
P: Please, can I cum, daddy?
T: yes, baby, cum for me
P: Thank you, daddy
T: how you feelin, petey?
P: So good, daddy
P: But did you�
T: always so considerate
T: but yes, baby, i did
T: thinking about you doing so good for me
T: i came plenty
P: Thatâs nice
T: you feelin a bit sleepy, sweetheart?
P: Yeah, Iâm tired
T: make yourself comfy, baby
T: you can go to sleep soon
T: but before you do
T: can i ask you for a favor, sweetheart?
P: Sure, daddy
T: i need you to deliver a message from me
P: What kind of message?
T: iâll give you a note tomorrow
T: you just need to give it to a friend of mine
T: but you canât read it
T: you could get in danger and we donât want that, do we?
P: No
P: How do I deliver it?
T: iâll explain everything tomorrow
T: itâs really sweet of you to do this for me, baby
T: canât wait to see you tomorrow
T: all pretty and blushing with the knowledge of what we did tonight
T: but i donât want to keep you from your beauty sleep
T: sweet dreams, petey
P: Good night, Tony
â--
Tony puts down his phone grinning. Heâs satisfied both physically and mentally. The thoughts of Peter made him cum harder and faster than expected. But even better, Peter agreed to do him a favour. Sure itâs a small one, but he canât just pull out the big guns directly just because heâs gotten the boy a killer orgasm.
Little by little heâs going to get Peter to do just about anything for him.
Chapter Nine: I Need A Gangster To Love Me Better Than All The Others Do
Peter kept replaying his conversation with Bucky over and over again. And at some point he had to admit the real reason for it. It wasnât that he was sad or upset about this falling out with Bucky. No, what actually bothers him is how little he cares.
He should care. Bucky and him had gone on two wonderful dates, had kissed and probably wouldâve gone on more dates and kissed even more. Thatâs how it shouldâve gone.
Peter should be heartbroken, feel guilty or at least disappointed. But the only thing he can think about is when he will see Tony again. And whether there might be something he can do to help with his injuries.
And that realization unsettles him far more than the fight with Bucky ever could.
By the time his next session with Tony comes around, Peter has come up with a way to help. It is against the rules, though, and Peter has never been much of a rulebreaker.
He spends the entire day nervous, convinced that one look at him will be enough for everyone to figure out exactly what he's planning.
Somehow, he makes it through.
When he finally arrives at Tony's cell, he doesn't so much as glance at Bucky. He simply steps inside.
âHow are you feeling today?â He asks as he sits down.
Tony sighs, his face looking even worse than the day before. âWell, the pain always gets worse before it gets better, soâŚâ
âI brought you somethingâ, Peter says and turns to cast a quick look to the window checking if somebody is watching. Then he pulls a bottle of painkillers out of the pocket of his coat and hands it over to Tony.
Their fingers meet briefly as Tony accepts it. He takes a long look at Peter before he looks down into his hand.
It seems to take a moment for Tony to realize the situation. When he does, he too looks to the window and then puts the bottle in one of the pockets in his orange jumpsuit. He lifts his head again. Peter canât identify the look in Tonyâs eyes.
âThanks,â the man simply says and his voice has never sounded so genuine before. It is more of a reaction than Peter had expected. It makes him smile.
âYouâre welcome.â Peter doesnât know what else to say. His thoughts are still racing and heâs unsure how to proceed. He simply looks at Tony.
The manâs gaze is searching his face. For what, Peter isnât sure. âWhatâs on your mind today, doctor?â
Peter hesitates, unsure if he should talk to Tony about it. But then, he doesnât have anybody else to talk to. So he says, âBucky and I had a fight.â
âWhat was it about?â
Tonyâs voice sounds genuinely interested, so Peter continues. âHe thinks that youâre manipulating me.â
âAnd you donât agree?â
âNoâ, he answers much too fast. Then adds, âWell, I donât know. Are you? Everybody seems to hate you and thinks the worst of you, but I just canât bring myself to do the same.â
Tony pauses as if heâs thinking about it. âIf I was, youâd know. Youâre too smart. If anything, you're the one manipulating me, doctor.â
Peterâs eyes widen in surprise. âHow so?â
âYou show up every day full of hope and worry and sweetness. And all that while looking so fucking pretty. Really messes with my head, darling.â Peter feels the heat rushing to his cheeks.
He doesnât want to react like that at every little compliment. But he canât help it. Every nice word from Tony makes him feel warm and fuzzy. He wants to hear more.
âIf you ask me, Bucky isnât right for you.â
Peterâs heart skips in his chest. âWhy?â
âHeâs not what you need. What you truly want.â
âAnd what do you think I want?â
âYouâre smart, kind and pretty. Thatâs what everybody sees in you. Thatâs what Bucky sees. But you need someone who looks beneath the surface. Thereâs a fascination for darkness, an interest in testing limits and breaking rules others have laid upon you. Deep down, I think, you want someone who would burn down the world just to see you smile.â
Peter swallows hard. He should laugh and dismiss it. It should sound ridiculous. It doesnât.
And he canât shake the feeling that Tony isnât talking about some imaginary person. He seems to be describing himself. Peterâs heart beats out of his chest at the possibility.
Is Tony talking about himself? Does he want to be that person for Peter? Could he have feelings for Peter as Peter has feelings for him?
âUhmâŚâ, is the only sound Peter makes, staring at Tony, who just sits there and looks at him with that attentive gaze and cocky smile. The man leans forward as much as he can in his seat, coming face to face with Peter.
âTell me you want it.â Tonyâs voice is a whisper, but the words echo loudly through Peterâs ears. He feels Tonyâs breath on his face. His entire body is buzzing with nerves.
âPeter?â
Heâs a good person and Tonyâs a criminal. He shouldnât. He knows, he shouldnât. He should listen to his head. But for the first time in his life, he doesnât want to.
âI want itâ, he says almost inaudibly, but Tonyâs answering grin shows that the man heard him nonetheless.
Chapter Eight: Forgive Me For My Wrongs, I Have Just Begun
Bucky canât take this. Yesterday Peter practically ran out of work, and today heâs back playing it down as if nothing ever happened. And even though Fury told him that Peter said it had just been some sudden sickness, Bucky knows Stark is behind it. He must have said something to Peter. Something out of line. Maybe even threatening.
Now Bucky stands in front of the door to Starkâs cell and it kills him not knowing what they talk about in there. It bothered him before, but now itâs worse. He knows Stark. Knows how good he is at getting into peopleâs heads. And heâs gotten to know Peter too.
He still canât believe Peter agreed to not one but two dates with him. And even let Bucky kiss him.
Peter is smart, kind and so damn pretty. But heâs naive too. Too trusting. Exactly the kind of person someone like Stark would latch onto.
The minutes tick by and he canât help glancing through the window over and over again. Hoping to catch Stark in the act. But it isnât any help, when the manâs strongest weapon is his voice. And Bucky canât hear a damn thing.
âWhatâs going on, Buck?â Sam interrupts his thoughts.
âNothingâs going on.â
âOkay, sure. So you didnât beat the shit out of a prisoner over a hunch that he did something? And thereâs definitely nothing going on with you and the doctor, who I know for a fact is exactly your type?â
âShut up, Sam.â Bucky rolls his eyes. Sam might be his friend, but heâs also a pain in the ass. âAnd it wasnât any prisoner. It was Stark.â
Before Sam can press any further, thereâs a knock on the other side of the door. Bucky rips it open in an instant, not wanting Peter to spend even one second longer with Stark than is absolutely necessary.
When Peter steps out of the cell, Bucky straightens. His eyes search Peterâs face for any sign that something happened. Fear. Nervousness. Anything.
But Peterâs face gives nothing away..
âEverything okay, doc?â Sam asks casually.
âOf course,â Peter says a little too quickly. âWhy wouldnât it be?â
Buckyâs stomach twists.
Because thatâs exactly the kind of answer someone gives when things are definitely not okay.
âCan we please talk now?â Bucky asks, realising how desperate he sounds.
âNot now. You canât leave your post and I really donât want to do this in front of an audience.â With that Peter hurries down the hallway, not looking back.
â--
Bucky had to endure another few hours of just standing in front of Starkâs cell and thinking about Peter. When his relief finally comes, he heads straight for Peterâs office.
The door is already open. Bucky knocks against the frame before stepping inside.
âPeter, please, let us talk about this.â
The younger man looks up and sighs. âFine. Letâs talk. Why did you do it?â The sharpness in Peterâs voice catches Bucky off guard.
âDo what?â
âYou know what I mean. You beat him up like a fucking maniac.â Well something is definitely wrong. He has never heard Peter cuss before. And he seems genuinely angry. At Bucky. As if Stark doesnât deserve much worse than a little beating for all the shit heâs done.
Bucky feels the anger rising in him as well. âDid he tell you that?â
âThe wounds werenât exactly hard to find, but Tony told me it was you who did it.â
âTony?â Bucky stares at him. What the fuck is going on?
âWhat?â
âYou call him Tony?â
Peter freezes. His expression shifts as if he suddenly realizes what he said and doesnât know how to take it back. âNo..â
âYou just did.â Peter opens his mouth, but Bucky doesnât let him speak. âDo you think heâs your friend or something? Heâs a criminal. Heâs taken so many innocent lives and he doesnât even care. Heâs a monster.â
âHeâs not a monster.â Everything in Peterâs voice and face tells Bucky he actually believes it.
âSo now youâre defending him?â
âWell, nobody else does.â
âWhy should they? Not like he ever cared about anyone but himself.â
âHe cares about me.â
Bucky canât do anything but stare at Peter for a few moments. His anger slowly fading, leaving only worry behind. I think I lost him before I even had him, he thinks sadly.
âDo you even hear yourself?â
Peterâs jaw tightens. âI hear myself just fine, thank you.â
âIâm sorry, but I donât think you do. You actually think he cares about you? I care about you, Peter, and I canât watch you being manipulated by him.â
âThen donât.â Peterâs voice is cold as ice as he takes his bag and brushes past him without another glance.
âPeterâŚâ Bucky tries once more, but Peter doesnât even slow down.
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Peter presses both hands against the sink, breathing hard as he stares at his own reflection. His cheeks are still burning. His pulse still racing.
He feels sick. Not because of what Tony said. Because of how his own body had reacted to it.
He needs to get out of here.
So he does.
He quickly collects his things from his office before bolting out of the asylum. Only when he stands at the subway waiting for the next train does he realize that he didnât tell Fury - or anyone else for that matter - about his early departure.
Fuck! Heâs totally going to lose his job.
Peter quickly types out an email to Fury on his phone. Something about not feeling well and having to leave early. That heâll be back tomorrow, feeling better.
He looks around, suddenly feeling disconnected from the world around him. People rushing about, bumping shoulders, mouths moving too fast.
But Peter only hears one thing.
Tell daddy.
He stands on the train squeezed in with dozens of other people chattering.
Tell daddy.
He walks from the subway to his apartment.
Tell daddy.
He falls onto his couch.
Tell daddy.
What the hell is wrong with him? Tears start filling his eyes.
He knew he liked older men like that. He also knew that he was attracted to Tony. And yet, he knew nothing could ever happen. No matter how charming or beautiful, the man is still a criminal.
Peter thought he had it under control. That he could bypass his feelings to do his job. Be professional about it.
In search of a distraction from his racing thoughts, he looks at his phone and then quickly discards it again. Multiple missed calls and messages from Bucky. Peter doesnât want his care right now.
He tosses and turns in his bed and by the time night turns into morning, he has kind of straightened out his thoughts. Yes, he is very much attracted to Tony. Thereâs nothing he can do about that. But he can still do his job. And he will. Heâll tell Fury it was just a sudden sickness and heâs good to continue his assignment.
However heâs still not quite sure what to do about Bucky. Bucky is sweet and attentive. Everything he should want. And he doesnât want to string him along, when he knows whatever it is he feels for Tony is much more intense. But at the end of the day, nothing can ever happen with Tony. Bucky is the safe choice.
â--
When Peter gets to the asylum that morning, he makes his way to Director Furyâs office first. The door is open and the man waves him in with a stern expression on his face.
âDr. Parker. Care to explain what the fuck happened yesterday?â
Peterâs eyes instantly fill with tears, he canât deal with disappointment like this. He tries blinking them away and steady his voice. âDirector Fury, Iâm terribly sorry about all of this. It was extremely unprofessional of me and if you think it would be best to fire me, that wouldâŚâ
âDr. Parker!â Fury interrupts him harshly. âI didnât ask for an apology, I asked for an explanation. So explain.â
âYes, of course. Sorry, Sir.â Peter takes a deep breath. âYou see, I havenât been feeling so good the whole day yesterday, but I didnât think there was actually something wrong. I thought maybe I ate something bad or something like that. But when I got into To- Mr. Starkâs cell I got really dizzy. Maybe it was the lights. Theyâre very bright and exhausting for the eyes. Anyways, I suddenly felt really sick and ran out of there to the nearest restroom to⌠you know. After that I was just kind of out of it, canât even remember how I got home. Iâm really sorry again, I should have told somebody instead of just bolting out of here.â
âIs that really all it was, Dr. Parker?â
Peter forces himself to meet Furyâs gaze. âYes, Sir. What else would it be?â
âBarnes seems to think that Stark said something to you to make you run. Threatened you or something.â
Peter tries his best to suppress the anger at finding out Bucky went to Fury about him. He takes a steadying breath and says, âMr. Stark had nothing to do with what happened yesterday. He behaved the same way he always does.â
âIf you say so, Dr. Parker. Then you can get back to work, but I donât want anything like this to happen ever again. If you feel sick again, you tell someone from the staff or come to me directly. Otherwise the next time you will be fired.â
âYes, Sir. Thank you, Sir.â Peter hurries to get out of the office.
â--
Later that day, as he turns into the hallway where Tonyâs cell is located, Bucky is on him in an instant. Talking to him, but Peter doesnât listen. He canât deal with this right now.
âI have to work. Weâll talk later, okay?â He says, already moving past Bucky towards the door. Wilson opens it and Peter goes inside.
The sight heâs met with shocks him to his core. Tonyâs face is covered in bruises and wounds. Black, blue and red.
âWhat happened to you?â
âWhy donât you ask your perfect, little boyfriend?â Tonyâs voice sounds raspy, exhausted.
âBucky did this?â Peter turned around to look out the window even though he knew he wouldnât see the man there.
âSurprised?â Tony says jokingly.
âOf course, I am.â
âWell, you shouldnât be. I told you in our very first session that he worked for me. Mole or not, men like him donât survive this long in my ranks without getting comfortable with violence.â
Peter has to hold himself back of reaching out his hand to caress Tonyâs face. Instead he asks, âDoes it hurt?â
âLike a bitch.â Tony sounds exhausted. Honest.
âDo you get painkillers?â
âAs if they would do anything to make me feel better about this.â
Anger rises in Peter. âThatâs fucked up. You should still get medical care.â
âHm, I think thatâs the first time I heard you cuss. Didnât think you had it in you. Itâs cute.â
âThanks.â Peter canât stop the blush rising on his cheeks. Why did he say that?
Tony leans forward a bit and says, âYou know, Peter. I live for these moments with you.â
Warmth floods his body at the sentiment, but he tries not to show it, âYou really shouldnât say something like this to your doctor.â
Chapter Six: Never Going Slow, We Pick Up The Pace
It has been two days since their last session. Tony has spent most of that time thinking about Peter. And getting off. Multiple times.
But he hasnât been able to fully relax after finding out that Barnes had asked his doctor out on a date. Amd apparently theyâve already been on two by now. How did the dates go? Did they kiss? Did they have sex? Heâs going to have to murder Barnes earlier than planned if that was the case.
Tony has already been prepped - chained - for todayâs session when he hears muffled voices outside his cell. And then he sees Peter and Barnes talking. Right in front of his fucking window. Tony watches Peter avoid eye contact and fake a smile. Interesting.
And then Barnes TOUCHES him. That fucking bastard. Nobody is allowed to touch Tonyâs property. And thatâs exactly what Peter has become to him.
So when the boy enters his cell a few moments later and the door closes behind him, Tony canât stop himself from saying, âTrouble in paradise?â
âWhat?â Peter asks as if being pulled from his thoughts.
âYou and Barnes.â
âHow do you know about that?â
Tony smirks. âHow are you still surprised? You know I got my sources. And also your little talk right in front of my only window? Not exactly subtle. So, is there?â
Peter shifts slightly in his chair. âEverything is going great with Bucky.â
âReally? So you two had fun on your little date, maybe after?â
âItâs really none of your business.â
âOh, donât tell me Barnes didnât shoot his shot. Iâve seen him in action and he definitely isnât lacking.â
âI really donât want to hear all that, Mr. Stark." There was no real push behind the words.
Tony leans back slightly in his chair and hums. âTell me, Peter,â he says casually. âAre you a virgin?â
Peter averts his gaze down but not before Tony can see a pretty blush settle on the boyâs cheeks. The boy doesnât answer his question. Then again, he doesnât need to. Peterâs reaction is all the confirmation Tony needs. And the fact that Peteâs virginity is still intact is enough to make heat rush through his body right to his cock.
âBut surely youâve done some experimenting on yourself?â
No reaction. Then a tiny nod. Tony feels almost giddy at Peter actually answering this time. He wants more.
âAnd what do you think about when you do?â
Peter stays quiet, not moving a muscle, still not meeting his gaze.
âCome on, sweetheartâ, he taunts. He pauses. Then softer, âTell daddy.â
Peterâs head snaps up immediately. Bingo!
The boyâs cheeks are still adorably pink and his mouth slightly open, but still he doesnât answer. Tony had suspected it for a while now. He had just been waiting for the perfect opportunity to test it.
Peter stutters helplessly, not one whole word leaving his mouth. The boy stands up quickly and hammers on the door until it opens.
âPeter! Are you okay? Whatâs wrong?â Buckyâs worried voice makes Tony grimace.
The door closes, but through the small window Tony watches Peter ignore Barnes completely, practically bolting down the hallway. Tony couldnât help but smile. Peter hadnât turned to Barnes in comfort.
Barnes turns around to look at Tony through the glass. His eyes go wild with rage and second later the cell door is being ripped open.
Barnes charges at Tony. The first punch connects with Tonyâs jaw, blood fills his mouth immediately. And Barnes doesnât stop. Heâs taking hit after hit at Tonyâs face while shouting, âWhat did you say to him, asshole?â
The whole time Wilson stands in the door, shotgun ready. But Tony doesnât react to the beating. He canât do much with his hands still tied, but also he doesnât want to. He revels in the fact that he made Barnes break character. So he just takes it and smiles until Barnes is done and leaves him.
Because even if it doesnât look like it, Tony is the one who won. Even though Peter had fled and he had just got beaten the shit out of, Tony canât help but be smug about it. He knows what he saw. Perfect Peter Parker had gotten a hard on because of Tonyâs words.
Chapter Five: You Were Holding His Hand And I'll Never Be The Same
Looking back on the past week, Peter could think of only two things: sessions with Tony Stark and dates with Bucky Barnes. Two things that couldnât be more different. Two people that couldnât be more different.
After Bucky had warned Peter about Tony, the man had asked him out to dinner the next day. Bucky drove them to a small place just outside the city. They ate pasta and talked and laughed. A lot.
Until then Bucky had seemed to him more like the stoic, grumpy type, but Peter quickly realised that it was simply his work persona. There at the restaurant, he was relaxed, funny and attentive. And though Bucky was clear about his intentions by calling their dinner a date, he was a perfect gentleman.
Apart from a hand on Peterâs back to guide him to their table and a brush of fingertips while handing over the menu, there was no touching. But Bucky looked. He looked like he wanted to know Peter inside and out, like he didnât want to miss even the smallest thing. Peter didnât think anyone had ever looked at him like this. Well apart from Tony, maybe.
And he gave Peter compliments. Lots of them. Called him sweet, and pretty, and beautiful. Peter blushed a deep red every time.
And even though the other man didnât try to kiss him after bringing Peter home, he did ask for a second date. Peter didnât really understand why someone like Bucky would ask out someone like him. And to be honest, he still doesnât, but of course he agreed.
Bucky is everything Peter had never dared to dream about. Kind, funny, smart. Sure, there is an obvious age gap, with Peter being only twenty-three and Bucky being in his mid-thirties,. But to be quite honest Peter always kind of had a thing for older men. And Bucky didnât seem to mind, so whereâs the harm in that?
So they went on their second date two days later. It was a Sunday and they were both off work, so they met for coffee. Peter had a sweet drink with minimal caffeine but loaded with sugary syrups, while Bucky drank his coffee black. They teased each other about it. When their cups were empty neither of them was quite ready for the date to end, so they went for a stroll in the park next to the cafe.
They walked close to each other. The backs of their hands brushed against each other every now and then and Peter was trying to gather the courage to take Buckyâs hand. His hand flexed but he couldnât get himself to go through with it. Then a larger hand slipped into his smaller one. Peter carefully looked up and was met with a smile so wide and genuine it made him blush.
Hand in hand, they walked to Peterâs apartment building, stopping at the front door. They said their goodbyes and he was almost at the door, when Bucky called his name. Peter turned and waited for him to continue.
âMay I kiss you?â Bucky asked.
Peterâs cheeks burned red as he nodded. âYeah.â
With the confirmation Bucky closed the space between them, carefully placed one hand against Peterâs cheek and leaned in to kiss him.
It wasnât Peterâs first kiss, but it was his first adult one. It was nice. Though he had to admit he expected more. Especially with Bucky being older and more experienced, he thought he would get devoured. But instead the kiss was only slightly too long to count as a peck. No tongue, no passion, no shaky breaths.
Bucky leaned back, locked eyes with Peter and smiled. âSee you tomorrow, Pete.â With that he turned around and left.
When Peter gets to his apartment, he feels restless. Does Bucky not want him like that? But then what were the dates all about?
And that isnât the only thing going through his head right now. If heâs being completely honest with himself, he couldnât stop thinking about his latest sessions with Tony.
The last few times they saw each other Tony was surprisingly open to Peter. Telling him about his abusive father, absent mother, his first drug deal, his first time in jail and even his first kill.
The man had experienced so much trauma it was no wonder he became the man he is now. Peter could see how these things could bring Tony to believe that there were no truly good people.
Tony⌠Wait. TONY!? Since when did he start calling Mr. Stark Tony?
Peter hasnât once stopped moving since entering his apartment, but this realization makes him stop in his tracks. When did that happen? He canât remember. In their sessions Peter still called him Mr. Stark but at some point he must have started to think of the man as Tony.
He needs to sit down.
He drops down on his couch, throws off his glasses and rubs both hands down his face.
Tony Stark is a criminal. A mob boss. A manipulator. And a killer.
And yet Peter sits in his apartment thinking about him instead of the man he had shared two wonderful dates and a perfectly nice kiss with.
Peter squeezes his eyes shut. He really needs to get out of his head.
As soon as the thought forms, his hand snakes into his pants and boxers to close it around his dick. He doesnât want to drag this out, just get it over with fast to hopefully let off some steam and get some quiet from his own thoughts. Maybe even a good night's sleep.
He isnât hard yet but slowly getting there as he strokes up and down. His thoughts wander to Bucky. The piercing blue eyes watching his every move. The beard framing his face handsomely. The muscled arms hidden beneath dark fabric.
Peter thinks about their kiss. Chaste and careful. Then he thinks about how he had wanted it to go instead. Passionate. Desperate. Their tongues moving fast and uncontrolled against each other. A large, strong body cornering him against a brick wall. Then a ring-covered hand settling against his throat.
The grip tightening just slightly before the kiss breaks apart. And when Peter opens his eyes, heâs met with Mr. Starkâs smug smile.
Peter cums.
He didnât sleep after that.
He mulls over what that means for him. For his job. For Tony. For Bucky. Until his alarm goes off the next morning.
The morning passes by in a blur until Peterâs back at work on the way to his next session with Mr. Stark (he refuses to think of him as Tony today). All the while wondering how he is going to act around Mr. Stark or Bucky after what happened last night.
He hasnât come up with a good solution, when he turns around the corner to Mr. Starkâs cell and directly locks eyes with Bucky.
âHey, Pete.â The man smiles.
âHeyâ, Peter answers, not sure what else to say.
Buckyâs blue eyes scan his face carefully. âYou look exhausted.â
âYeah, well. Didnât get much sleep last night.â
âYou okay?â Bucky asks, sounding worried.
Peter has to look away. He canât look at Buckyâs worried eyes knowing full well what heâd done. âIâm fineâ, he says and fakes a smile.
Bucky doesnât seem to buy it. He steps into Peterâs space and one hand settles on Peterâs arm. âYou know you can talk to me right?â
âI know,â Peter assures him, finally looking back up with a weak smile.
âOkay.â Bucky smiles as he takes back his hand and moves into position to let Peter into the cell. Peter takes a deep breath before entering.
Heâd seen it in Peterâs eyes in their session yesterday. Those big brown eyes framed by thick glasses. They were full of hope and sympathy. Iâd really like to understand. Ugh. But Tony knew the moment he said it that this was his chance to get the pretty doctor on his side.
The younger man desperately wants to understand him. Dangerous territory. But damn, was it going to make things easy for Tony. All he needs to do now is give Peter a few tragic stories from his past to humanize him and before long the boy will do anything Tony asks of him.
â--
At their next session Tony tells Peter about being beaten to unconsciousness by his father at thirteen years old.
âI woke up the next morning covered in bruises all over my body. Nobody at school even looked at me. Iâm sure they noticed. They mustâve. But they knew my father and didnât want to get in his wayâ, Tony explains while playing with the rings on his fingers.
â--
Next he talks about his first drug deal.
âI was fifteen. Iâd never even had a sip of alcohol before, much less tried drugs. I heard of older boys selling drugs in hidden spots around the school. So I followed one of them. Told him I would tell on him if he didnât give me the contact of his supplier. I got the info and a few days later a well-paying job.â
Peter looked at him with a questioning expression. âWhy did you do it?â
âWell, Peter, not everybody has the privilege of having a parental figure that cares enough to provide for their kids. So I had to find a way to do that myself.â Tony shrugs.
â--
In another session Tony reveals:
âMy first time in jail was as a teenager. They took me in for carrying drugs. Took my data and fingerprints and then put me in a cell while trying to get my legal guardian there. Turns out my legal guardian was too drunk to answer the phone.â
Tony could see the pity on Peterâs face. âSo what happened then?â
âHad to stay overnight. Best sleep I got in a year.â
â--
After that Tony decides itâs time for the big guns.
âIn my last year of high school it became clear I wouldnât graduate. I was too busy dealing and building a small fortune for myself to bother with school work.
âI just finished a deal in a back alley. The buyer was already gone and I was on my way to go home. A homeless man must have seen the money I had been handed and decided he could use it more than me. He pulled the money from my pocket and ran. I followed right after. Got to him at the edge of the main street. Tackled him down and took my money back.
âOnly when I stood back up did I realize he didnât move. Then I saw the blood. Lots of it. He split his head open right there on the sidewalk, because I shoved him.â
He could see Peterâs eyes getting misty at that. Just slightly. Almost unnoticeably. But by now Tony canât help but notice every little thing about the boy.
âYou see, your first kill is always the hardest.â Itâs true. For him just like everybody else. But whatâs also true is that it gets easier with every one after that. Until one day you wonât even waste another second thinking about it. But Peter doesnât need to know that. Yet.
âBut it was an accident.â Peterâs voice was small, but as always the voice of reason. Doesnât matter. He fell right into Tonyâs trap.
âA kill is a killâ, Tony says matter-of-factly.
â--
Tony doesnât want to admit it, but with every session his fascination for Peter grows. And not because of the hope or optimism the younger man radiates, but because of the potential.
Tony sees it. Behind those eyes there is fascination for the darkness.
Heâs agitated. That was not the plan. An image forms in his mind. He canât help it. It shows Peter by his side. Working for him. Killing for him. Heat shoots through Tonyâs body, making his cock harden at the thought.
Peter shooting or stabbing someone. Sprinkles of blood sticking to his face and crisp white dress shirt as he kneels over a corpse. Looking up at Tony with his big brown eyes. Waiting for a sign of approval. A nod. A smile. Anything. Tony uses one hand to squeeze his dick to release some tension.
Fuck, itâs not enough.
He opens the buttons of his orange jumpsuit, pushing the top part down over his hips, taking his boxers with it. Tonyâs hand moves back down, closing around his shaft, this time with no barrier. He groans at the feeling.
And as he starts moving his hand up and down his thick cock, the picture of Peter forms in his mind again. Tony would give a nod of approval and it would be answered with a big, toothy smile filled with pride. He would leave the boy kneeling for him right there in the pool of blood, open his pants and let Peter work for another kind of approval. And he had no doubt the boy would do so gladly.
Peter would pull out Tonyâs cock and start by giving it kitten licks all over. Itâs all very innocent. So very Peter. Testing the waters before taking the tip into his mouth carefully. Trying to take more and more of Tonyâs length until it would hit the back of his throat. Peter would splutter and pull back at the unfamiliar feeling.
But Tony would yank on the luscious brown curls with his ringed fingers and pull the boy back down on his cock. Not stopping until heâs buried to the hilt and then fucking Peterâs mouth. Their eyes would be locked the whole time. Tears and spit running down the boysâ face as heâs taking desperate breaths whenever he can. Peter wouldnât try to stop him, just taking it like a good boy until Tony cums down his throat. Peter would swallow all of it and then show Tony his brightest smile again.
Peter has probably never done anything like this before. He could very well still be a virgin with how innocent he acts. Fuck, is he?
Tony cums right then. With a loud groan his cum lands on his white undershirt. It takes him a moment to gather himself before opening his eyes and look around.
Through the bulletproof glass he locks eyes with Barnes. The guard looks unimpressed by the performance he no doubt witnessed. Tony doesnât care. It wasnât his first time getting off in here, and it wasnât Barnesâ first time having seen it. Tony just puts his dick back into his boxers and leans back against the wall with a smug smile.
After that, jerking off to thoughts of Peter in various positions became a regular occurrence for Tony.
Peter canât sleep. Itâs already well past midnight, but his thoughts are too loud to rest. He has been going over the notes from his session with Mr. Stark for several hours, but he still canât seem to wrap his head around it.
These people donât want to be fixed.
Peter presses the heels of his hands against his eyes with a frustrated sigh, his glasses had long been discarded. He never thought about it that way before. Was it naive to believe people could change if someone just tried hard enough to help them?
And worseâŚ
Was Mr. Stark right about him? Peter likes helping people. He always has. But helping people also makes him feel useful. Needed. Good.
Does that make it selfish?
The thought leaves an uncomfortable weight in his chest. Because no matter how much Peter wants to dismiss everything that came out of Tony Starkâs mouth todayâŚ
Part of it felt true.
He doesnât know how late it was when he finally falls asleep, but when his alarm goes off the next morning he has a plan. Tony probably never learned that people can do nice things without bad intentions, which is why he doesnât believe good people exist, but Peter was going to prove him wrong.
â--
âYouâre late, doctor.â The raspy voice of Tony Stark greets Peter as he enters the cell five minutes too late. The man sits there, in the same place as the days before. Hands cuffed and connected to the metal handles of his chair by metal chains.
âI didnât realize you were in charge of my work scheduleâ, Peter replies while taking his seat.
âIâm not. But neither are you. So whatâs with the rebellion?â
Peter reaches into the pocket of his coat. âI brought you something.â He places a small red stuffed cat on the table between them. âItâs a kittyâ, he says awkwardly.
Mr. Stark doesnât say anything or move to pick up the plushie, he just stares at the item. The silence makes Peter anxious. He realizes how silly it is to give a grown man in his late forties, a MOBSTER, a stuffed toy. What was he thinking?
âWhatâŚâ
âItâs just a giftâ, Peter explains quickly. âI thought you probably donât really get those.â
âTell me, Peterâ, Mr. Stark says, eventually taking his eyes off the toy. âHow did we go from you bolting out in fear to you bringing me a gift?â He says the word gift like it personally offended him.
Peter shifts slightly in his chair. âI thought about what you said. About us being different. I donât know how you became who you are or why you do the things you do without feeling guilty.â A pause. âBut Iâd really like to understand.â
Mr. Stark stares at Peter with an expression he canât quite place.
âYou want to know how I got to where I am? What makes me tick?â The man asks with an unsettling look in his eyes.
âYesâ, Peter says quietly, nodding.
âIâll tell you. Under one condition.â Mr. Stark looks at Peter expectantly.
âWhat kind of condition?â
âYou canât tell Fury anything I tell you in here.â
âI canât promise that. It is literally my job to report to him.â Peterâs voice fell a bit higher than normal, almost painfully sharp in his own ears.
âYou can still do that. You just leave out a few things.â Mr. Stark makes it sound so easy. It probably is for him. After all, compared to Peter, he has decades of experience bending the rules to his will.
Peter knows he should say no immediately. But how can he let this opportunity slide? The opportunity to get a look into the fascinating mind of this man. So he agrees.
Mr. Stark hums. âYouâre braver than I thought.â He sounds almost impressed.
Peter canât explain it, but something warm settles in his chest at the praise. Which is ridiculous. He shouldnât care what this man thinks of him. And yet, he does.
Peter pulls himself out of his thoughts. It doesnât matter. Even if he canât tell Fury yet, heâs going to find a way around the threat eventually. For now heâs going to make the most of this new opportunity.
Pushing up his glasses, he says, âSo, Mr. Stark. Tell me something about yourself. Something real.â
âYou know, doctor, people always seem to argue whether people like me are born like this or shaped by their surroundings.â
âWhich one do you believe?â
âBoth.â Mr. Stark locks eyes with Peter. âI guess I never was an easy child. Always testing the rules, not caring about repercussions. Didnât even think about them.â A pause. âBut then again. My father wasnât an easy person either.â
Peter stays quiet. He just looks at Mr. Stark, not wanting to interrupt and possibly make the man overthink trusting him with this.
âHe liked control. My father. Though he couldnât control his own emotions.â A humorless smile tugs at the manâs lips. âFunny, donât you think? He also liked throwing stuff. Preferably beer bottles. Sometimes he aimed at the wall. Sometimes not.â
âWhat about your mother?â Peter asks carefully.
Mr. Starkâs face gives away nothing about the emotions inside. But Peter knows that doesnât mean there are none. âWhat about her?â
âDid she protect you?â Peterâs gaze is fixed on the other manâs face hoping to catch a glimpse of something. Anything.
But the man just rolls his eyes. âThatâs cute, doctor. You think this is a story with a happy ending. But you know what I am today, so how could it be?â
âWhat are you today?â
Mr. Stark leans forward in his seat as far as he can manage with the cuffs binding him to the chair. Not even two feet separate their faces when the man whispers, âA monster.â Peter can almost feel the warm breath of the word on his face.
âYou really believe that?â
âDoes it matter?â And with that Mr. Stark is again leaning back lazily in his chair as if nothing happened.
âI asked you a question.â
âAnd I gave you an answer.â
Peter takes a moment to let his gaze wander over the man sitting in the chair opposite him. The chains around his wrists. The expensive rings still sitting on his fingers. The calm expression on his face while talking about violence like itâs the weather.
A monster.
Thatâs probably what everybody sees looking at him. And maybe Mr. Stark heard it often enough to start believing it himself. But Peter canât bring himself to think the same. Monsters arenât supposed to feel this human.
Before Peter can figure out what to say next, surprisingly Mr. Stark starts talking again. âMy father hit her more often than not. She up and left when I was 8 years old. Didnât spare one thought on the son she left behind with her abusive husband. Thatâs a motherâs love to you.â
âYou know what the worst part was?â Mr. Stark asks, but doesnât wait for Peter to answer. âI spent years hoping sheâd come back for me. Kids are stupid like that.â He chuckles darkly at that.
âThatâs not stupidity. Itâs hopeâ, Peter explains.
âAll the same to me.â Mr. Stark shrugs. âAre you always this optimistic?â
âSomebody has to be.â
âSounds exhaustingâ, Mr. Stark says. The words hit far closer to home than Peter would ever admit out loud.
âThank you for humouring meâ, Peter says looking at his watch. âSessionâs over for today. See you tomorrow, Mr. Stark.â
âSee you tomorrow, Dr. Parker. And donât forget our deal.â
Peter nods before knocking at the door, smiling victoriously as he leaves the cell and heads to his office.
â--
A knock on his open office door pulls Peter out of his thoughts. âDr. Parker? You have a minute?â
âMr. Barnes. Come on in.â Peter gestures to the empty chair opposite of him.
âPlease call me Buckyâ, the guard says as he takes a seat.
âPeterâ, he nodded. âSo, Bucky, what can I do for you?â
âItâs just⌠You need to be careful with Stark.â
âWhy would you say that?â
âBecause heâs good at getting into peopleâs heads.â
âIâm aware of who Iâm working withâ, Peter says defensively. Of course, another person that doesnât believe he can handle himself.
âLook, Iâm not saying youâre not good at your job. I saw you today, talking to him. It looked like he actually told you something of substance which is more than any other doctor before has pulled out of him. But⌠youâre young and pretty. Exactly the kind he loves to break.â
âI can look out for myselfâ, Peter assures the man. Though heâs not quite sure if he would believe himself.
âOf course you can. Iâm sorry. I didnât mean to come on too strong.â He pauses. âItâs just that I know first hand how good Stark is at manipulating everybody around him.â
So thatâs what this is about, Peter thinks. âHow long did you work for him?â
âA couple of months. It took a while to climb the ranks to get any important info at all. Had to do lots of fucked up stuff to get there. Nothing to be proud of. But it got him here, so I guess that counts for something, right?â
Peter canât imagine how hard it must be to deal with something like that. To have to do things that go against your morals because of a higher goal. He smiles encouragingly. âYou donât have to be so hard on yourself. You did it for the right reasons.â
âAre you doing your psychiatrist bit on me right now?â Bucky asks, acting outraged (and badly at that).
âI mightâ, Peter answers, a big grin spreading on his lips.
Bucky answers with a smile just as bright. Peter thought nothing could have made this man more attractive. Heâd been wrong.
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Peter Benjamin Parker. Born August 10th, 2001, in Forest Hills, Queens. His parents died when he was two years old, after that he was raised by his aunt and uncle, May and Ben Parker. His uncle died several years later, leaving Peter and his aunt on their own.
He graduated high school at sixteen. Earned his pre-med bachelorâs degree at nineteen before completing medical school at twenty-three.
Impressive, Tony thinks as he lazily flips through the file. SHIELD keeps pretending they are careful with information, but the truth is for the right price you can always find somebody willing to bend the rules. Especially when youâre Tony Stark.
Although Tony gets almost everything he wants or needs while rotting in this cell, the one thing he wants is still out of reach. Escape and revenge.
His men already tried breaking him out several times. Every attempt failed in some spectacularly embarrassing way. Wrong timing. Bad planning. Weak nerves. Idiots, all of them.
And Tony still has to sit in this goddamn cell. Anyone would go crazy in here, but Tony has an obvious advantage. He went crazy a long time ago.
Several doctors had tried treating Tony over the years. None of them lasted long.
Some requested transfers after only a few sessions. Others stopped talking to Tony during their sessions, until Fury found out and fired them for not doing their jobs. One of them apparently needed to be put into a psych ward himself because of him.
Tony smiles faintly at the memory.
SHIELD got desperate after that. And desperate people make interesting decisions. Like assigning a twenty-three-year-old psychiatric resident to the most dangerous man in New York City.
Dr. Parker was young. Inexperienced. Still hopeful enough to believe people could be saved.
ButâŚ
The break of eye contact after receiving a compliment. The way he pushed up his glasses nervously multiple times. The blush on his cheeks after getting caught staring at Tony. And the need to prove himself qualified despite his young age.
It was all so painfully obvious, it almost made Tony laugh. Lonely and desperate for approval. Peter Parker was going to be so easy to break. And it will be fucking beautiful to watch him fall apart.
A sharp knock interrupts his train of thoughts. He closes the file and carefully slides it under his thin mattress.
âMeal timeâ, a voice grunts from the other side of the door. It opens and Wilson slides a tray into the cell. As always Barnes behind him, shotgun aiming for Tony's face. No matter how big the desire is for Tony to do something reckless, heâs not going to let Barnes be the one to shoot him if things went sideways.
â--
âDr. Parker, how nice of you to come byâ, Tony greets as the younger man enters his cell a few hours later and takes a seat in the empty chair. He doesnât seem quite as nervous as the day before, but then he hasnât really looked at Tony since coming in.
âHow are you today, Mr. Stark?â
Tony laughs at that. The kid makes it sound like he actually cares about the answer. Thatâs new.
âWell, Iâm doing just splendid. How about you, doctor?â Tony looks at the other man expectantly while leaning back in his chair smiling.
Dr. Parker lifts his head to look at Tony and almost unnoticeably rolls his eyes. Tony fights back another laugh. Brat! âWill you answer any of my questions seriously?â
âThat dependsâ, Tony says, indifference lacing his voice. âAre you gonna get around to asking the questions you actually want the answers to?â
âWhat do you mean?â Anybody else would have probably believed Dr. Parkerâs innocent tone of voice. But the fact that he broke eye contact even just for a second while asking his question, was all Tony needed to know it was fake.
âOh come on.â Now Tony is the one rolling his eyes, but he doesnât bother trying to hide it. He lives for the drama. âNo need to play dumb, we already established you arenât. And by now you should've realized Iâm not either. We both know Fury wants to know how the drug deals and murders havenât stopped since they put me in here. Go ahead, ask me.â
The younger man hesitates, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. His lips open and close a few times as if he isnât sure how to form the words. âHow is it possible for your organisation to work without you there?â
âWell, Dr. Parker, thatâs the million dollar question, isnât it? And while Iâm not yet ready to tell you the answer you want, I will give you an honest one. People are afraid of what happens when I get out of here and they didnât go about their jobs in the meantime.â
âWhen?â Dr. Parkerâs voice is small, a whisper. Like he isnât actually asking Tony but talking to himself.
âWhat was that?â Tony asks, one brow raised in question.
âYou said when you get out of here. That sounds like youâre pretty sure about your escape.â Even though itâs not actually a question, the doctorâs voice made it sound like one.
âI have no doubt about it.â Tonyâ voice doesnât waver, because as crazy as it might sound to others, he knows itâs the truth. And itâs not because of hope or something equally laughable. Itâs simply a fact.
âHow can you be so sure about that? Youâve been here for more than three years now.â
âBecause this isnât my first rodeo. I always get out eventually. The only question is how many people are going to die in the process.â Tonyâs voice grows darker with every word as he watches the younger man shrinking himself deeper into his chair. âAh, there it is.â
âWhat?â Dr. Parker ask´s, very clearly trying to act as though Tonyâs statement doesnât affect him.
âThe fear.â
The doctor's head snaps up, his eyes wide open. âIâm not afraid.â
âYou say that and yet your pulse just sped up.â Tony leans forward trying to catch every little change in Dr. Parkerâs face.
âYou can hear that?â The shocked expression on the doctorâs face is to die for.
âNoâ, Tony says with a chuckle. âBut the fact you asked? Adorable.â Dr. Parkerâs cheeks turn rosy at that, quickly looking away trying to gain some semblance of professionalism.
After a moment of silence, though Tony can almost hear the thoughts turning in the doctorâs head, the younger man lifts his gaze, locking eyes with Tonyâs again. âDo you enjoy making people uncomfortable?â
âYou werenât uncomfortable before. So what changed your mind? The escape part? Or the part where people die?â
âI just donât understand how you can be so indifferent at the thought of taking peopleâs lives. Innocent people.â Dr. Parker sounds genuinely shocked. Tony isnât surprised. The younger man looks and talks like a kid pretending to be a grown up. The naivety is written all over those impossibly large brown doe eyes.
âAh, thatâs where weâre different, doctor. You think everybody is innocent until proven guilty, but me⌠I think everybodyâs guilty of something.â
âSo what am I guilty of then?â
âThat you always believe people can be fixed.â
The doctorâs brows furrow at that, obviously not quite understanding the point. âIsnât that a good thing? To hope that people who did bad things can redeem themselves?â
âIt does sound very noble, sure. But you forget that these people donât want to be fixed. They donât want to be saved. They donât feel bad for what theyâve done. They take pride in it. And while you go about playing the good little psychiatrist deep down you just want to feel better about yourself because of it. Sounds pretty selfish, if you ask me.â
Tony just observes in silence as the doctor obviously tries to find a reason to argue and just as obviously canât seem to find one. The smile on his face widens smugly. He just got into his pretty doctorâs head. And thatâs only the beginning, he thinks.
Dr. Parker stands up stiffly. âIâll see you tomorrow, Mr. Stark.â
âLooking forward to itâ, Tony drawls. And as the doctor was almost at the door readying himself to knock. âOh, and Peter?â
The man pauses immediately, not turning around at the use of his first name.
Having already gone through several gates and security checks, Peter is finally standing in front of the building. He pushes his glasses higher up his nose and straightens his shoulders. The building is big and old, built from heavy sand-colored bricks which are framed by ivy and other plants growing up the sides. He wonders if it looks any less dilapidated on the inside.
The young man walks toward the front door, where an older man already waits for him. The man is bald and wearing black pants and a black sweater under a heavy leather coat. But the most interesting thing about this manâs appearance is the leather eye patch heâs wearing over his left eye.
âWelcome to SHIELD Asylum, Dr. Parker. Iâm Director Fury. Let me show you around.â Peter takes the manâs extended hand for a handshake before following him inside.
As Director Fury shows him around the building, he realizes that it does in fact not look any better on the inside than it does on the outside. The plants are even growing in here, the cracks in the stone floors and walls are covered in green. No one seems to deem it necessary to clean this place up.
When Peter has seen what feels like every room in the building and has been introduced to more people than he will be able to remember til the next day, Fury leads him into the office that will be Peterâs from now on.
âPlease, have a seat, Dr. Parker. Iâd like to go over a few things for your first dayâ, Peter sits in the chair behind his desk while Fury already occupied the one in front of it. âHave you gone over the files I sent you?â
Peter agrees. âGood, goodâ, Fury strokes his chin, evidently thinking about his next words. âThen you know none of the other doctors could get anything useful out of him. Heâs hard to crack, likes to just sit there and smile and talk about anything but the answers we need.â
âIâm not sure, I can get him to talk, but I will try my best, Sir.â Peter is going to pull out all the stops on this job. He has to. After countless applications and just as many rejections, this was the only place that offered him a job and he wasnât going to let it go so easily. After all, he has to pay rent and still has his student loan to be paid off. He quite literally canât afford to lose this job.
âGlad to hear it. But be careful, this man knows just how to get into peopleâs heads. Donât let him into yoursâ, Fury says and the dark tone of his voice gives Peter goose bumps. âSo, you want to meet him?â
Peter stands up, which seems to be enough of an answer for the Director, who follows suit. The older man makes his way through the door and along endless corridors, not once looking back, simply assuming Peter is following behind him. They donât talk for the entire walk, which was fine by Peter. He is still mulling over the fact that Fury didnât once use the prisoner's name, only referring to him. Why is that?
â--
âThis is itâ, Peter is being pulled out of his thoughts. âThe guards will let you in. Knock against this bulletproof glass if you want out. The guards will monitor you through it.â
âAre there no security cameras or microphones?â
âNo. He tends to destroy or hack those within an hour of putting new ones in. I donât know how he does it. Unnecessary expenses is what it isâ, he says matter-of-factly .âOkay, Iâll leave you to it. Come to my office when youâre done, Iâd like to hear your first report in person.â
âOf course, Sirâ, Peter nods. When Fury is out of sight, Peter turns to the two guards standing with their backs to a heavy steel door. âBarnesâ and âWilsonâ he reads on the name tags of their uniforms. They both hold large weapons - was that what a shotgun looked like?
Peter takes a deep breath, pushes up his glasses and nods. âOkay, letâs go. I can do this.â, he whispers to himself.
âJesus, how old are you, kid?â That voice came from Guard Barnes. Peter quickly locks eyes with him. That is one attractive man. Dark eyes, dark hair and big muscles.
Quickly looking away from the handsome man, not wanting to stare too long, he answers, âIâm twenty-three.â He gets this a lot. He is, of course, young for a psychiatry resident, skipped a class or two and graduated early. But even though he looks even younger.
âWell damn, heâs gonna eat you alive.â That was Guard Wilson.
âIâll be fineâ, Peter says. However the confidence of the statement doesnât quite translate in his tone. He would be a fool to not be nervous. The man on the other side of this door is the most dangerous man in all of New York City, probably the whole country. Peterâs heard about him, of course. Even before he got this job he knew of him. Mob-Boss Anthony Stark.
âIâm readyâ, he says. This time his voice sounds quite a bit stronger as he looks to the guards.
âGood luck, kidâ, Barnes says before giving the other guard a quick nod to open the door.
â--
The door closes heavily behind Peter. The cell he enters is grey and empty. Thereâs a metal table standing in the middle, one chair on each side. In the chair opposite the door, sits a man. His head slightly lowered, eyes locked on the smooth surface of the table.
Peterâs eyes fall to one strong hand lying on the table. Relaxed. Multiple Rings glinting in the harsh fluorescent light. How was he even allowed rings in here?
âDr. Parker! How nice to finally meet you.â A dark, rough voice echoes through the cell.
Peterâs gaze flicks up to see into the darkest brown eyes heâs ever seen. They seem almost black. How does he know Peterâs name?
âPlease sit.â The man gestures loosely to the empty seat. âAnd to answer your question: I have friends in here, you know? They are too afraid to say no to me.â
Peter sits. âAnd yet, youâre still here.â
A dark laugh booms through the room. âOh, youâve got a sharp tongue, Dr. Parker. I like that. I think weâll get along just fine.â
A wide grin is directed at Peter, the prisoner's eyes twinkle expectedly at him.
âSo what do you want me to tell you? You want to know about my childhood? My first drug deal? My body count?â
Peter decides to start simple. âPeople call you âThe Iron Manâ. Why do you think that is?â
âOh, is that so? I had no idea.â Another wide smile. Peterâs sure that the man was lying, but he is going to let it slide. For now. He needs to get this manâs trust first.
âWell, what do you want me to call you?â
The man leans forward in his seat, eyes never straying from Peterâs. âYou can call me Mr. Stark.â
âOkay, Mr. Stark. Why are you in this asylum?â Peter has a plan. Slow and steady wins the race, that was how he was going to crack this man.
The other man, still leaning forward, rests his chin on both hands. A rattling sound draws Peterâs attention to the cuffs on Mr. Stark's wrists, metal chains connecting them to the chair.
âIâm sure youâve read my file before coming here, because everything else would be pretty dumb. And while I canât argue with the pretty part, I donât think they would send someone dumb to try and fix me. So why ask me something you already know, Dr. Parker?â
The compliment makes Peterâs heart stumble. He has spent years focused on school and then uni. There was no time for dating and relationships, and Peter was not interested in casual sex. So being complimented does things to him. But he needs to be professional and not get distracted by something like that. Especially when the person in question is not only a notorious drug seller but has also killed more than a few people. Peter needs to stay on track.
âI have read your fileâ, Peter agrees. âBut the files were made by the police and while I do respect their work, Iâd really like to hear your take on things.â
âYou want my version?â Mr. Stark asks, leaning back with a questioning look in his eyes. âThatâs dangerous, Doctor.â
âWhy?â The sound comes out more like a breath being released.
âBecause people usually leave this room believing me.â Peter forces himself to not break eye contact. Trying to not let his gaze wander to the crinkles on the outer corners of Mr. Starkâs eyes, the meticulously groomed goatee (how can he even do this here?) or the cocky smile on his lips. He pushes up his glasses.
âYouâre nervous.â Itâs not a question.
âMost people would be.â
âNoâ, Mr. Stark states. âMost people would be afraid. And you⌠are trying very hard not to be.â
Peter leans back just a bit and lets his eyes stray from the other manâs to try and win back his composure. âIâm here to evaluate you, Sir. Not the other way round.â
âSir?â Mr. Stark's smile grew even wider than before. âDamn, they got me a pretty young thing AND heâs got manners? I guess they do know me after all.â
Peter is not sure how to react. He stays quiet, trying to figure out how to turn the conversation around.
âTell me, Dr. Parker. How old are you?â
âTwenty-three.â
Mr. Stark lets out a soft hum, gaze turning almost predatory, but he doesnât say anything. Just stares at Peter.
âIâm qualifiedâ, Peter adds hastily, feeling like he needs to justify himself. All the times of being called âtoo youngâ and not being taken seriously because of it. He hated it.
âDidnât say you werenât. I just expected someone older.â
âHow old are you, Mr. Stark?â Peter asks instead of commenting on the statement.
âForty-eightâ, the man answers, surprising Peter with it. He was sure Mr. Stark was going to turn this question around too. âThough prison life has been very moisturizing.â
Peter snorts a laugh before even thinking about it, quickly trying to put on his professional face again.
âYou donât think so, Dr. Parker?â Mr. Stark's amusing gaze locks him in. âTake a good look. Iâm a fucking catch, even for my age. Donât you think?â
Instead of dismissing the joke, Peter makes the mistake of looking. Really looking. The sharp line of Mr. Starkâs jaw. The silver threaded through his dark hair. The confidence somehow still clinging to him despite the ugly orange jumpsuit and chains around his wrists. Even here, in this room, he looked put together. Intentional. Dangerous. Peterâs gaze briefly flicks to the open collar of the jumpsuit before he catches himself and forces his look away again.
âIt was a joke, doctor.â Mr. Stark smiles, this time it seems almost genuine. âBut you donât need to answer. The blush on your cheeks tells me everything I need to know.â
Peter clears his throat. âWhy are you in here, Mr. Stark?â
âFine, Iâll biteâ, the man sighs. âApparently the people donât really support my line of business. Twenty years of running this city, cops always three steps behind, but then they got a mole inside my ranks. I clocked it fast, but the cops got to me faster.â A pause. Then a shrug. âAnd now, they put the mole in charge of guarding me here.â
âBarnes?â Peters guesses carefully.
âSmart boy.â
The two men lock eyes, neither one of them saying anything.
Suddenly a loud knock echoes through the room, making Peter jump slightly in his seat. He whips his head in the direction where the sound came from and sees Barnes behind the bulletproof glass gesturing for him to come out.
âWell, it seems like the sessionâs over. Same time tomorrow, Dr. Parker?â
Peter doesnât answer. He just stands from his seat and walks to the door, which is being opened for him by Guard Wilson. When the door closes behind him again, he takes a deep breath.
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actually kind of in the process of figuring that out xD
I realised how I really only have a few go-to ships and never really tend to go beyond that... sooo it would prob be easier to list what I don't ship.
But let me start here:
- I adore WinterSpider, like Bucky/Peter gets me as excited as Starker does
- I do like some SpideyPool here and there, although I'm not reading it too much tbh
- also no way home gave me ideas in the Peter/Peter/Peter department ngl (also with Norman Osborn/Otto Octavius, like did u see the chemistry tho)
that's all I got really but I'm currently working my way trough all kinds of mcu pairings, so I'll def add something to the list when I find something :P
What about Peter have feelings for tony but is hiddenly heartbroken because tony is together with pepper (or Steve)
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-----
Peter went home after turning down Mr. Starkâs offer of joining the Avengers. He wanted to be a part of the team more than anything, being able to help even more people and not being alone while doing so, but he also knew that it would hurt him deeply. More than it does already as he would see Tony more often than he does now and would be reminded of the fact that the love of his life would never be his.
Yes, he loved Tony, he was hopelessly in love. He would do anything for the man with his cocky attitude while still being incredibly kind and, of course, unbelievably handsome. Peter was down the rabbit hole from the first moment they met. Mr. Stark sitting in the living room of the tiny apartment he and May were currently living in, wearing one of his perfectly tailored suits looking totally out of place. Maybe he had a crush even before they met for real with Tony Stark being Iron Man and all, however getting to know the man set his feelings on a new scale. He was immediately captured by the kind eyes and genuine smile directed his way.
Looking back on their first meeting, Peter should have known better and stayed away. He should have known that, when from the first moment he layed eyes on his and his stomach was filled with warmth and swarming with butterflies, this man would for sure be his downfall. From then on, as they spend more and more time together, Peter was cherishing every moment he could get with Mr. Stark. Every small touch or praise Peter would replay over and over in his head when lying in bed at night. However it didnât take long for his mind to remind him of the fact that Tony was in fact in a relationship with Pepper Potts. Everytime Peter would see her or the couple together he felt jealousy running through his body wanting him to throw up, when he sees their loving gazes, touches, kisses. Of course he knew he had no chance against a woman like practically perfect Pepper Potts.
Now as he returned to the apartment, he was not sure how to feel. Desperate with his unrequited love for his mentor, disappointed of having to turn down the offer of being a part of an actual superhero team, relieved of having handled the situation as best as he could. Quickly realising May was still at work and he would be alone for some time before she will return home bringing food, Peter withdraws to his room.
Not more than a few seconds passed from when he sat down on his small bed before his phone gave the unmistakable sound of a new message, which makes Peter scramble to his backpack and pulling the device out. Opening the drop-down menu he couldnât believe what he saw. The message he received was from the Tony Stark alert he set a long time ago, always giving him the latest news of the man he loves. Usually there would be articles about fights or rescue missions from Iron Man or new technological progress at Stark Industries, but what Peter saw now made his heart clench in an unknown matter.
âEngagement announcement: Billionaire Tony Stark, a.k.a. Iron Man, and CEO Pepper Potts are getting married!â
Thatâs all Peter could read before his phone dropped from his hands and his vision blurred with tears. His body collapsed to the floor as he starts trembling and letting out loud sobs that echo back from the walls. But he didnât care. He could almost hear his heart shatter into a thousand tiny pieces. Of course he knew Tony was in a relationship. Of course he knew that he was happy with Pepper. And of course he knew he would never have a real chance with Tony. However getting to know that the couple was about to get married, bind themselves together for a lifetime, made him realize he still had hope, but now that last straw was gone too. Peter let himself drown in sorrow, a sobbing mess lying on the ground in a fetal position until there are no more tears to shed and now more sounds coming from his throat. He was utterly spent and felt like dying.