#self wetting

Request sent in by @redhoodwritesjt 

“Peter goes after a villain he’s not supposed to and messes it up (sort of like in Homecoming). Tony comes to help and then flies Peter back to the Stark Tower. Peter doesn’t want to tell the man why the mission went bad in the first place— he needed to pee— so he just tries and hide it from Tony while he gets a long reprimand for what he did. Please include lots of squirming, bouncing legs, fidgeting etc. (it’s my favorite part). In the end Tony ends up figuring out what’s wrong after Peter lies several times about nothing being wrong. You can choose whether he makes it, only wetting himself partly or he if he completely wets himself.”

I’m sorry this took so long! I hope you like it. 

***

Peter could not concentrate.

A few hours earlier, he’d heard May slip into the bathroom, the lock clicking behind her. It was his chance. Big Man was planning a raid and it was up to Spider-Man to stop him.

He’d tried to tell Mr. Stark, of course, but he was out of the country. If he really cared, he would at least return Peter’s calls.  

Before leaving, Peter had chugged a huge glass of water so he wouldn't get thirsty fighting crime. This turned out to be a mistake.  

By the time he’d gotten to Big Man’s hideout, Peter had to pee. He was going to disappear into a darkened alley, but then he noticed: the henchman were switching shifts. It was the perfect time to get in. He wasn’t about to waste it.

But now that he was on a skyscraper roof, struggling not to wet himself as he battled baddies, Peter wished he had.

Peter ducked a blow from one of the henchman. The movement added pressure to his bladder. He pressed his thighs together. This wasn't good.

A henchman took advantage of Peter’s split-second hesitation and threw a weighted net over him. He curled into it, crossing his legs against the pressure.

The henchman smirked. “Who ever heard of a spider in a net? What are you, Butterflyman?”

“Anyone would be lucky to be a butterfly,” Peter said, trying to pull the net over his head. The movement pushed a little dribble of pee out and into his underwear.

He took a deep breath. This was bad. It was either stay captured or wet himself in front of a henchman. Henchman talked, so soon everyone would know and his new name would be Spiderbaby.

Better Spider-baby than Spider-dead, he thought, clenching his muscles tight and preparing to throw off the net.

Just then, a ray flashed down and hit the henchman square in the chest, toppling him with a thud.

Peter glanced up. Mr. Stark flew through the sky, knocking out all the henchmen like he was playing a video game on easy.

Peter gently wiggled himself free of the net. There was an alley just a few feet away (and all the way down). He could pop down, pee, and be back before Mr. Stark even knew he was gone.

As Peter approached the edge, someone hit him on the ear so hard it threw him over.

Disoriented, ears ringing, bladder throbbing painfully, Peter struggled to find his orientation, to shoot his webs. As the fog cleared and he saw the pavement rising to meet him, Mr. Stark grabbed him by his shoulders and jerked him up.  

Instead of dropping him off on the ground or back up where the battle was, Mr. Stark kept flying.

Oh god, Peter thought, he's taking me to Stark Tower. He crossed his legs as tight as he could.

“Uh, Mr. Stark?”

“Not now,” he growled, flying faster.

When they reached Stark Tower, Mr. Stark set him on his feet and immediately stepped out of the suit. His face was red with anger and what looked like a bad sunburn.

“Where were you?” Peter asked.

"Never you mind. What the hell were you thinking? It's a school night!" Mr. Stark raged.

Peter struggled to listen. His bladder was so full, it was like he could feel the pee pressing against the exit.

Peter fidgeted, hopping from one foot to another.

"What's wrong with you?" Mr. Stark asked.

"Nothing.” He forced himself to stop. “But, Mr. Stark, I had to step in and help. Big Man is planning to hurt people!"

"How can you stop Big Man from under a net? Speaking of, why didn’t you throw it off sooner?”

Peter paused, pressing his legs together so tight it hurt. "It was very heavy and had—spider repellant on it."

“Spider repellant. Right.” Mr. Stark rolled his eyes. "Why did you go after Big Man? I thought we agreed you were supposed to be a friendly neighborhood spider-man."  

"He’s in my neighborhood!" Peter wiggled one knee past the other, trying to press his legs together more tightly. His stomach hurt. “And I tried to call you. You never answered.”

"What is wrong with you?” Mr. Stark demanded instead of answering. “Why do you keep doing that?"

"Nothing's wrong, Mr. Stark. I'm, uh, a little itchy. Yeah. They threw itching powder on me!"

Mr. Stark shot him a weird look, eyebrows knitted together. "Spider repellant and itching powder? Are you sure you found Big Man’s hideout and not, I don’t know, Ronald McDonald’s?"

"What's going to happen with Big Man?” Peter demanded. Mr. Stark wasn’t the only one who could change the subject. “We need to stop him before he hurts people!"

Peter turned to leave. Mr. Stark clapped a hand on his shoulder to stop him. The movement jostled Peter’s bladder and a little dribble of pee came out. He pressed his lips together and crossed his legs to turn around.

"I called Natasha.” Mr. Stark checked his watch. “It’s taken care of.”

Peter squirmed, bouncing up and down, trying to keep the pee inside himself. It wasn't working out so well. Oh god. He needed a bathroom soon.

"And another thing," Mr. Stark continued, "you have got to stop doing this to your aunt. She worries, you know. That one day you’ll sneak out and she won’t notice and something terrible will happen to you. Do you enjoy hurting her?”

“Of c-course not.”

C'mon Peter, he thought desperately, get it together. He wiggled from side to side, legs pressed together so hard it hurt. C'mon.

Mr. Stark stared at him. "Do you have to pee or something, kid?"

"No, I just--"

Oh no.

He couldn’t hold it anymore. His muscles relaxed. Pee gushed from him and down the left leg of his suit.

Mr. Stark covered his eyes. "Oh, kid," he sighed.

"I'm sorry," Peter said in a small voice, face hot. Tears pricked behind his eyes.

"It's okay," Mr. Stark said, voice gentle. "Go clean yourself up. I'll find something for you to wear.” He wagged his finger in Peter’s face. “But don't think you're getting away with that little stunt you pulled, because you're not."