Idk if you’re accepting prompts but—high school au w Badboy!Tony and soft!Peter and Tony like teases peter a lot and he says something or mocks peter (like peter stuttered talking to him cause he’s a bit shy and Tony jokingly mocks him) and peter starts to cry and Tony feels super duper bad about it and fluff fluff fluff!
Look at me. Filling prompts. Wow. Thanks for the inspo, anon.
I’ll Be the Fight to Your Flight, Baby.
The school day was always the same for Peter – bus, class, lunch, class, bus – and peppered in there was always a good dash of bullying. Not that it was a surprise. He was a spectacle after all; possessing a much smaller frame than his cohorts, thick-rimmed glasses, zero fashion sense, a squeaky and high-pitched voice. He knew he was softer than the other kids too; more sensitive, an easier target, more likely to choose flight over fight. He knew that when Clint and Natasha tripped him in the hall, or when Bucky and Sam vandalized his locker, or when Flash called him names, they were doing it because his weak reactions made for a good laugh.
Peter wouldn’t say it didn’t bother him – because it did! It really, really did. Each teasing microaggression, each shove in the hall, each jab at his self-esteem made him want to run and hide. Bury his face in his hands so no one would see the tears pouring from his big brown eyes. But he didn’t. Instead, he endured it. Ignored it or pitifully laughed along with it to ease the sting of being socially ostracized. He didn’t want them to see him cry.
Even now, as Thor and Loki mocked every word Peter said to Ned from their place at the adjacent lunch table, he tried his best not to let it get to him.
“Don’t pay attention to them, dude,” Ned shook his head and shrugged, “They’re being assholes.”
“Okay,” Peter said with a forced smile, trying with all his might to ignore the relentless mockery. “So tell me more about the Lego Death Star? How many pieces is it?”
Thor’s roaring laughter cut through the bustle of the lunchroom. “Tell me more about the Lego Death Star, brother!”
Loki snickered, shooting Peter a wicked grin, “What would you like to know? How many pieces it has or, perhaps, how happy I am that my mommy bought me a child’s toy?”
Peter bit the inside of his lip, a tactic he used to hold back his tears. And Ned must have noticed because he turned to the older boys with anger in his eyes and said, “Can you guys just lay off? We aren’t even bothering you.”
“Brother, did you hear something?” Thor looked around, making a show of just how little he cared about Ned’s anger.
“Not at all, brother,” Loki laughed, playing along with his brother’s ignorance, “Tell me, what have you heard?”
“If I’m not mistaken, it had the distinct sound of a squealing pig!” Thor erupted in more laughter. His callous joke making every table in their vicinity burst into laughter of their own. And, if their sick humor was targeted at Peter, then he wouldn’t have opened his mouth. But it was directed at Ned and that was unforgivable.
“S-Shut up, T-Thor!” Peter yelled over the rambunctious crowd, his hands shaking and his heart pounding with fear as he, for the first time, chose fight over flight. His voice definitely cracked and his words held no real threat but, in the moment, it was exhilarating. Despite his fear, the crowd still went silent. Their faces stunned because Peter Parker never raises his voice. And just as Peter started to feel as though he’d won, it was ripped away from him.
“S-Shut up, T-Thor! D-Don’t talk to me and my pig like that!” Loki dramatically mocked Peter’s voice, bringing the crowd and Thor back into their laughter.
And Peter bit his lip again, hard enough for a faint coppery taste to rush his mouth. His eyes stung, and the trembles from his hands traveled up his arms and engulfed his entire being. He was upset, but his nerves kept him from choosing fight again. Instead, he stood from the table and ran. One foot in front of the other towards the cafeteria doors. Wanting nothing more than to escape the vicious scrutiny of his teenage peers.
But then, Peter was falling. His foot catching on some unidentifiable something and his face careening towards the off-white linoleum tiles. The impact hurt; more to his pride than to his body. And the laughter was louder, especially when Peter turned to see Clint’s outstretched foot and Natasha’s smug grin. Still, Peter chose flight. He clenched his teeth and scrambled to feet, and didn’t bother to look back as he finished his sprint to the doors.
Even in the calm of the hallway, Peter didn’t stop running. His body buzzed with an intense need to put as much distance between himself and his bullies as he could. His eyes were burning with the need to cry. His heart hurt and his mind was filled with flashbacks of every single time he endured, ignored, and struggled in silence. So he ran, and the only thing with the power to stop him was the sturdy chest of Tony Stark.
“Watch where you’re fucking going, Parker!” Tony yelled, making Peter flinch backward.
Out of all the people in the school, Tony Stark was the most fearsome. The most blood-hungry. The most respected. No one wanted to be on Tony’s bad side. The last guy who managed to piss him off doesn’t even go to the school anymore. Peter still remembers the day when the guy left on a stretcher, swearing up and down that Tony had nothing to do with it. But Peter knew, and so did every other student.
“S-S-Sorry, To-Tony. I-I didn’t- I w-was- I-” Peter stuttered, unable to get a coherent word out underneath the terrifying boy’s gaze.
Tony scoffed with an amused grin on his face, “S-S-Sorry, To-Tony.” He repeated with a laugh, bringing his hand up to flick Peter squarely on his forehead. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Parker? Just fucking speak.”
Peter brought a hand against his forehead, holding the spot where Tony’s finger connected. The dull throbbing pulled at his very last shred of self-control. He couldn’t take it anymore. His eyes betrayed him first as tears began waterfalling down his cheeks. Next was his voice. It turned to sobs and whines – all breathy and weak and embarrassing – but he couldn’t care. His body was the next to go. His frame visibly trembling and his hands covering his face as he just cried. Pathetically, and in front of Tony Stark.
“What the fuck, Parker?” Tony scoffed, “It was just a flick. Don’t be a little bitch about it.”
But Peter couldn’t stop his tears.
“Why the hell are you crying? Fuck-” Tony’s tone changed, dropping to something softer and a bit more frantic. “Seriously, Parker, quit it.”
But the tears kept flowing.
“Fucking hell. Just-! I’m sorry- just stop. Fucking stop-” Tony was rambling and if Peter wasn’t so lost in his overwhelming emotions, he would have taken notice of Tony Stark’s uncharacteristic apology.
That did it. Peter finally glanced up, surprised to see a worried face staring down at him. He parted his lips, wanting to speak, wanting to say something – because holy shit, Tony Stark just apologized and called him Peter – but no words came. Instead, his eyes went wide and his tears stopped pouring and the wetness on his cheeks began to dry as he stared up into the taller boy’s dark eyes.
It was Tony who had the guts to break the silence. “Sorry,” He mumbled, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and looking away from the shorter boy. “I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you were going to cry like that.”
Peter’s face went hot. “I-I…um, it’s okay. I’m sorry for- I didn’t mean to run into you like that.”
“It’s whatever,” Tony shrugged, his eyes carefully moving back to Peter’s and his voice soft and worrisome. “You mad?”
Peter was floored by the older boy’s wary energy. He had never spoken to Tony before – mainly due to the horror stories of the vicious bad boy who only spoke with his fists – but now, Peter was starting to doubt them. “It wasn’t you!” Peter shook his head, his nervous stutter melting away as he became more comfortable in Tony’s presence. “I mean, the flick hurt but it wasn’t what caused it. I was already upset.”
Tony’s eyebrow shot up, “What upset you?”
“I just get picked on a lot.” Peter gave a weak laugh. His arms moving across his body in a self hug like he was trying to disappear. “It’s not a big deal.” Peter lied.
Suddenly, Tony’s hand was against Peter’s hair, threading through his brown curls in a gentle patting motion. The touch made Peter’s shoulders jump up in surprise but he didn’t move. It was soothing and kind and Peter thought of it as Tony’s way of comforting him.
“Who picks on you?” Tony asked, leaning down to be at eye level with Peter and never stopping his soft touch. “I’ll fuck them up.”
Peter gasped at the proximity. Tony was close enough to kiss – why Peter’s mind went there, he didn’t know. “Y-You don’t have to do that.”
“No,” Tony shook his head, “I think I do.”
“But why?” Peter whispered, scared to speak too loudly with Tony’s face so close.
“’Cause I like you, Peter.”
A warm hue crept up Peter’s face and his stutter came back with the vengeance. “W-Wha-? What are you- You l-like me?! We’ve n-never spoke before! W-Why do you l-like me?”
“Don’t know. I just do.” Tony grinned, “And I hated seeing you cry. So, I’ll ask again, who the fuck picks on you? Name some names, baby, and I’ll make sure they don’t even breathe in your direction again.” A wild look filled Tony’s eyes. “Shit, if you said so, I’d make sure they never breathed another breath.”
Peter stared at Tony with bewildered eyes. Not only did Tony Stark just confess, but he threatened to kill Peter’s bullies and he called Peter baby. Baby. Peter couldn’t believe this was even happening. “I- I don’t- um… I-”
“You know what?” Tony stood upright and threw his arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Come on.” He started towards the lunchroom, towing a reluctant Peter at his side. “You can just point those bitches out. I’ll drag their stupid faces across the floor and then, me and you, we can have lunch together.”
“T-Tony, wait. I don’t- I can’t go back in there.” Peter felt his eyes begin to sting again.
“Don’t you worry one bit, baby.” Tony didn’t stop walking, instead, he pressed a quick kiss against Peter’s temple. “I’ve got you.”
The kiss sent a wave of goosebumps across Peter’s skin, and despite his nerves, he let Tony pull him along. He felt safe, held against the older boy’s side with a protective arm around his shoulders. He liked it. He liked him. “Okay.”
Tony smiled, “That your answer then?”
“To what?” Peter asked as they rounded the corner towards the cafeteria doors.
“Being yours?” Peter blushed again, “Isn’t that a bit possessive?”
“Probably, but I can’t help it. When I see something I want, I take it. And I really want you, baby.”
Peter giggled at Tony’s brutally candid words, “Okay, sure. I’ll be yours.”
“Perfect,” Tony placed a hand against the double doors. “Now, you better not change your mind when you see me fight for you.” He smirked, “I’ll try not to make it too bloody.”
