let's get whumpy;)

iron dad, dad of security, captain pops, superfamily, parkner, spideytorch masterlist, buy me a ko-fi?

[parkrstarkwhumps]

parkrstarkwhumps masterlist

(AO3)

Peter Whump:

“What day is it? What’s your name? Where are we?” (Now being written into a multi-chapter fic here)

“You thought I was finished with you, didn’t you? Oh darling, the game hasn’t even started yet.”

A whumpee who cries easily having their tears and emotions mocked by the people who beat or torture them. 

“I’m going to break your hand now. Please do try and keep the noise down.”, “The pain meds aren’t working! Don’t you hear him?”, “Bud, you can’t rest yet. Keep your eyes open.”

“Here, take my jacket. I’m not bothered by the cold anyways.” 

Peter is knocked unconscious in the airport battle (CA:CW)

Skip whump + protective Happy

“I can’t get up.”

Explosion

Tony Whump: 

“H-hold on, t-t-they’re c-coming, okay?”, “You don’t get to quit on me!”, “Please, please, wake up. I can’t do this without you.”

Peter and Tony Whump:

“I - I don’t want - please, don’t, I don’t want to -”  “You’re a killer, aren’t you? You’ve done it before. Do it now, or your friend dies bloody.”

Tony can see Peter dying, but Peter can’t see him

Peter and Tony clinging to each other when someone tries to take Peter

Tags:

all writing

amnesia

anger

beating

begging

blood

bomb

brain injury

branding

broken bones

captivity

concussion

conditioning

creepy

crying

dehumanization

drugs

experimentation

happy hogan

human trafficking

humiliation

infinity war

kidnapping

major character death

mute

non-con (rape, sexual abuse)

peter whump

physical whump

poison

protective peter

recovery

rescue

restraints

screaming

serial killer

stabbing

starving

steve rogers

stony

submissive

tony whump

torture

unconscious

vomiting

[silver-bunnyspell]

Do you ever want to just practice anatomy and get carried away? I certainly do The character is my oc Isidore Toller from my fanfiction What You Deserve!

[parkrstarkwhumps]

iron dad | childhood trauma | badthingshappen bingo

prompt: childhood trauma relationship: iron dad, may&peter, may&tony. warnings: head injury, amnesia, misunderstandings

There’s an angel smiling down at him. Her eyes are wet with tears, and her lips are moving, but he can’t hear what she’s saying. There’s a thundering in his ears drowning her out— is that his heartbeat?

Her glasses sit on the tip of her nose as she leans over him, her long brown hair falling over her shoulder. He thinks that’s what’s tickling his skin. Her hand squeezes his tightly. 

He doesn’t recognize this woman, but he knows her. His soul remembers who this angel is. 

“M—” He can’t get the word out. He tries desperately to, but he can’t talk. 

Mom looks scared as her voice filters in. “I know, baby. I’m here. Don’t talk. They have to get the tube out first.” 

Now that she mentions it, there is a lot of chaos going on around them. He hears beeping and yelling and a man…he knows that man. 

The man is scared. 

He doesn’t want to scare this man. He loves this man, that much he knows. Well, that’s all he knows. 

“Peter, kid— stop!” 

What is he doing? He’s not sure. But it hurts. 

And Mom is there, holding his hand. She’s smiling at him, whispering softly even as the man yells at others— not at him, his voice isn’t soft enough. He’s telling them to work faster. To do something. It’s all a little much for him. 

Maybe he can rest again— he is really tired, his head hurts so much, and there’s something lodged in his throat making it hard to breathe. 

Mom seems to know what he needs. She brushes his hair and says, “Sleep. I’ll be right here, baby.”  

(Finish on AO3) (Support me on Ko-Fi) (Masterlist)

[parkrstark]

dna be damned

written for @whumptober2020 day 2: kidnapping, pick who dies Even though Peter tries not to think about it, he knows Tony’s favorite is Morgan. Why wouldn’t she be? She’s his real, biological daughter. Peter’s just an intern that stuck around. But when a bad guy uses this against him, it feels even worse than he imagined. 2.k, ao3

“Keep it moving, brats. I don’t have all day.” The masked man behind Peter jabbed him in the back with the tip of his gun again.

Normally, this was when Peter made a quick witted response, but he couldn’t. Not when he had Morgan by his side. If he said one wrong word, she got punished. He learned that the hard way when he didn’t answer a question and she got slapped. 

That was the first and last time he let her get hurt. 

Peter, on the other hand, had an eye swollen shut, a bruise covering the left side of his face, and dried blood dripping from his eyebrow. 

He wasn’t even Spider-Man; he was just Peter Parker picking up his little sister from school. They were snatched before he could even feel his spidey sense could go off.

That was a few hours ago, and now, they were being dragged off to another spot without even a word of what they were doing. 

Peter wasn’t sure where they were going, but wherever it was, he was going to make sure that Morgan stayed by his side, unarmed. He made sure that she kept up and didn’t give the man any excuses to hurt her. 

They stopped in another room, that was much more open than the other room they were crapped in. He shoved Peter in a chair first and started tying his wrists and ankles to the chair. Peter didn’t struggle, even though he could have easily beat him. “Don’t hurt her.” 

Keep reading

[parkrstark]

ladies and gentlemen, it’s too much for captain america!

wrttien for @whumptober2020  day 1: waking up restrained, shackled, hanging, Steve wakes up restrained and hanging in some Hydra den, which is fine, really. He can handle that. What he can’t handle is watching them blow up his husband and son. That breaks him more than any torture ever would. 1.8k, ao3

When Steve became aware of things around him again, it felt like he had never passed out. It was like a moment had passed since one of the Hydra agents slammed a block of concrete against the side of his head, rendering him unconscious. 

But he knew it couldn’t have been that short of time because he wasn’t where he was knocked unconscious. He was strung up by the shackles and chains around his wrists. 

His feet just barely brushed against the ground, not enough to hold himself up to stop the iron from digging into his wrists. 

He couldn’t help the groan he let out as he lifted his neck so his chin was no longer resting against his chest. 

“Finally awake, hm?" 

Steve looked over at the Hydra agent speaking to him and he narrowed his eyes, keeping his jaw clenched firm. 

"You’ve been out for quite some time. It’s hard to get information from an unconscious man." 

"I think you’d find it easier than getting it from me while I’m conscious,” Steve growled. 

“We’ll see about that,” the man strolled over, casually with a cattle prod in his hand. 

Keep reading

[shithead-48]

WHUMP PROMPT #21

If your planning on slapping your whumpee, do it with the back hand. A backhand slap is harder because you have more arm movement and more momentum. A backhand slap hurts more because of the knuckles and because the palm helps lessen the blow. Also consider getting whumper to wear a ring when backhand slaping. This will cut whumpees face.

[zerotation]

[zeroafterdark]

day 20.5: drowning(ok so it’s not really a day but i wanted it to be)

tie a dude up, toss him in water, add a chain w/ weight on it and take bets on how long he lasts

fun for the whole family

[parkrstarkwhumps]

Bingo card space: chained to a bed (also works for day 25 of whumptober, humiliation) Fandom: Marvel Relationship(s): Peter & Tony Warnings:  Kidnapping, Non-Consensual drug use, Talks of a past child death Word Count: 4.6k Summary: Janitor Wallace from Midtown High loses his three-year-old son in a tragic accident. 1 month later, Peter goes missing. It takes Tony almost 7 months to connect the stories. (Inspired by an episode of Criminal Minds)

193 days. Peter had been missing for six months. Tony had searched every day for where he could have been. There was no explanation: one day he just never came home from school. Tony was sure one of Spider-Man’s enemies had discovered his secret, but Toomes was still in jail and he promised he said nothing to anyone. Then Tony had wondered if it was because he could be linked to Tony, but no one ever came demanding money or weapons.

There was never anything. Not even a clue. Even the police had practically given up, listed Peter’s file as another cold case. And Tony couldn’t blame them. Hundreds of people went missing like this; they didn’t have enough manpower to continue searching for each missing person, especially months after they’d gone missing.

Most people thought he was dead. The school even had a memorial for him.

But Tony knew he wasn’t. He knew that if Peter’s light was extinguished from this world, then he would feel something. But he didn’t. He still felt like Peter was here. So he didn’t give up. Neither did Rhodey or Happy. They helped him search every day since he went missing. Pepper helped keep May sane through it all. She had lost her husband, and now she thought she had lost her son.

But then they finally caught a break. Tony had gotten desperate enough to run every single person that worked in Peter’s school through his system. For anything. Nothing really clicked until he got to a janitor in Peter’s school lost his 3-year-old son a year ago. It was devastating to read about the toddler running into the street faster than his father could catch him. Nothing really clicked, even though Peter had the same big brown eyes and curly brown hair as the little boy had. Tony really didn’t think anything of it until Happy jumped up and said that he recognized him. The few weeks before Peter went missing, he saw him hanging a little closer around Peter after pick-up.

They didn’t have any concrete evidence, so they couldn’t call the police just yet. They waited for school to be halfway through the school day for them to storm his house. Happy put all of his weight against the front floor and it broke easily. “Three floors,” Tony said. “I’ll get bottom, Rhodey gets main, and Happy gets the top floor.”

He didn’t wait for them to go before he was running right to the stairway that led to the basement. He ran down the stairs, calling out Peter’s name. “Peter! Peter!” He stopped once he was in the basement and looked around at the room. It was painted light blue and there were tons of toys thrown around the floor. Tony hesitated when he saw it all. It looked like a toddler was still living in the apartment. “What the hell…”

There was a sound of chains clanking and his head whipped to follow the sound. And when he saw what he did, he almost cried. There was Peter. Peter was laying on the bed, with chains around his stomach, keeping him tied to the bed.

He hurried over to his side and fell to his knees. Peter was sound asleep...well, Tony hoped he was asleep. His hair was surprisingly soft as Tony ran his hands through his curls. It had grown longer since he’d been gone, falling into his eyes. He was dressed in pajama pants that reminded Tony of the Hello Kitty pajama pants Tony made him wear. Except, these were covered with some other cartoon with a matching t-shirt. That wasn't even the worst. The worst part was the pacifier he had stuck in his mouth.

Tony reached over and was about to rip it out of his mouth, but he hesitated. There had to be a reason why Peter hadn’t pulled it out. Was it rigged to hurt Peter some way if he took it out? Was it physically stuck somehow?

Taking a deep breath, Tony pulled on the pacifier. It didn’t come out easily, but it was because Peter was sucking back on it. Tony frowned and tugged on it hard enough to get it out. He threw it behind him, desperate to get it away from them.

Peter blinked his eyes open and Tony tried not to look as scared as felt. “Hey, bud… you know who I am?”

Peter just continued staring up at him.

“It’s Tony. It’s Mr. Stark.” Tony ran his hands through Peter’s hair, trying to get any recognition in his eyes. There was nothing. He cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone. He texted Rhodey and Happy letting them know he found Peter. They needed to get him out of here before the psycho came back. “You ready to go?”

Peter didn’t answer, but Tony started pulling at the chains around his stomach. He was still tugging at them when Happy and Rhodey came down the stairs. “Tony! Where the hell is he?” The two of them stormed down the stairs until they were at the bottom.

Tony glanced over his shoulder to see them. “He’s chained up. We need to get him out.”

Rhodey was the first to recover and hurried forward. “I don’t know where the keys would be. We’re gonna have to use one of the suits to cut it.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Tony said, his eyes on his Peter’s face. His eyes were closed again.

“We’re not. I’ll hold the chains away from him and you cut it.” Rhodey leaned over and lifted the chains away from his stomach. Tony had some of the nanobots from around his hand to make a gauntlet. He sliced through it with finger laser and finally, Peter was free.

“What the fuck?” Happy said, still standing still at the bottom of the steps.

“Hogan, get over here and help us get these off of him!” Rhodey shouted, yanking the chains off, careful enough not to hurt him.

Tony was cupping Peter’s cheek and he said, “Hey, buddy, you need to wake up. We’ve gotta go.”

Peter blinked his eyes open and frowned. “Potty?”

“What the fuck?” Happy repeated again, right behind Tony now.

Tony ignored him because he was just as terrified, but that didn’t mean he was going to show it. “Peter, we’re getting you free. You’re going home.” He lifted him up and Happy hurried to get the other side of him, but even with both of them holding his weight, his legs crumpled underneath him.

“Peter, you’ve got to walk,” Happy said, grunting as he tried to lift him up. He was much lighter than he should be, but still, his dead weight was hard to lift.

“Can’t,” he mumbled, his head lolling on Tony’s shoulder.

“God, how long have you been laying here, Underoos?” Tony asked, leaning down and lifting him up in his arms. Peter immediately wrapped his arms around his neck and his legs around his waist.

Rhodey started looking around the room. “Man, this is...this is some--.”

Tony turned to look at Rhodey and shook his head. Tony didn’t know what the hell went on here exactly, but he had an idea and he knew Peter would probably be embarrassed about it. Rhodey stopped short and continued to look around the room.

“Just get anything that looks like evidence,” Tony said. He hesitated before adding, “And anything we wouldn’t want anyone else to see. Or, Peter wouldn’t want anyone else to see.” Like him laying in a bed sucking a binky in his mouth.

Rhodey nodded his head. “You guys get him out of here. I’ll start looking and call this in. Just get him to the infirmary first. Don’t want anyone else stepping in to take over recovery.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Tony said. He planned on no one knowing what the hell was going on unless they absolutely needed to know. These three, May, and Cho. No one else needed to know about it.

“Come on, Tony,” Happy whispered. “I’ll drive us back to the tower.”

Tony nodded his head, following Happy towards the stairs. He avoided stepping on any of the small toys strewn across the floor that he knew Peter never even touched. It was just for show. Some part of this sick man’s illusion. He took one last look at the room; now that a 15-year-old kid wasn’t chained to the bed, it actually looked pretty normal. Tony shivered before turning back around and following Happy all the way up the stairs.

For the first time in 6 long months, Peter was off that bed and out of that basement. Tony smiled and whispered close to his ear, “Good to have you back, Pete.”

Peter had fallen asleep the moment Tony had him on the bed in the infirmary. He had Cho alerted of the situation before he arrived so she was ready. She took his blood, ran a few tests, hooked some IVs into him and now he was fast asleep.

She had no answers for anything yet. It was too early. So all Tony could do was sit by his bedside. Until Happy came in. “We’ve got the sick bastard. Wanna come watch Rhodey interrogate him?”

Tony looked over at Peter one last time before standing up and following him out. “I’m not allowed in there, I’m guessing.”

“Rhodey doesn’t want you killing him. Even if he deserves it.” Happy huffed, not sounding any happier about it. He could pretend all he wanted, but Tony had been by his side since Peter first went missing and he was torn up by what happened. He loved Peter just as much as the rest of them did.

“He definitely deserves it,” Tony muttered as they walked into a small room with a one-way window that they could look through. He saw Rhodey standing by the table with his arms crossed as he glared down at the janitor. He was still wearing his uniform from work as he sat there and begged Rhodey to let him go.

“Please, sir! My son is home alone. He’ll get scared if I”m not back when I’m usually back.”

Peter. He was talking about Peter.

“Your son died, Mr. Wallace. He died seven months ago.”

Wallace shook his head frantically. “No! He didn’t!”

Rhodey smacked his hand against the table making Wallace flinch. “Care to tell me why you had a 15-year-old kid chained to a bed in your basement?”

“H-He’s three. He was born on July 13, 2013.” Wallace looked down at his lap, rocking a few times. “He’s only three.”

“He’s 15! You kidnapped him and chained him to that bed for six months!” Rhodey roared, smacking his hand against the table again.

Wallace whimpered and said quickly, “He wasn’t chained! He just can’t walk. There was an accident. He can’t walk, but I take care of him. I take such good care of him.”

Tony felt sick just listening to this. In another circumstance, maybe he would have felt sorry for the man that was so destroyed by the death of his toddler he’d gone insane. But not now. Not when he stole Peter from them.

Rhodey’s voice softened only slightly. “He died that day. Your son is gone.”

“No, no, no,” Wallace started to mutter. “He’s fine! Just let me go home and I’ll show you. He naps when I’m at work and then I get home. I need to go home. Liam is probably looking for me.” He looked towards the door and yanked on the chains around his wrists.

“His name isn’t Liam. It’s Peter. And he’s not your son.”

“N-No. Liam is fine. I saved him. I brought him home.”

Rhodey heaved a sigh and took a seat. “Fine. Let’s say that was Liam...can you answer a few questions for me?”

Wallace looked up again, nodding his head. “Of course.”

“Did you hurt him when he was in that bed? Did you hurt him in any way?”

“Oh, no! Of course not! I love Liam. Why would I hurt my son?” Tony believed him.

“Then would you care to explain why my team food small Tupperware filled with pureed food--.”

“That’s Liam’s.

“Yes, I know. Would you like to explain why we found drugs in those foods? Why were you drugging your son if you didn’t want to hurt him?”

“I wasn’t drugging him! His doctor gave me those prescriptions. He said that they would help with the pain. And at first, Liam never liked sitting still. He always wanted to go run. But I told him he couldn’t go running again. Last time he went running, he got hurt. I mix the medicine with his food to help.”

“No. You drugged his food to keep a kidnapped child from running away.” Rhodey said, shoving back his chair as he stood up.

“I have the prescriptions! Just let me go home and get them for you.”

Rhodey ignored him as he walked towards the door and out of the room. Wallace continued to scream and even cry for Liam. Tony shut off the audio when he couldn’t bear to hear it.

“God,” Happy breathed. “I’ve seen this shit on TV. Never thought it would happen in real life. Not to Peter.”

Tony wasn’t sure what to say, so he kept his mouth shut.

Rhodey came into the room, not looking as pissed and scary as he did in the room with Wallace. He looked crushed. “I never want to do that again. Poor guy lost his kid seven months ago and for all he knows, he just lost him all over again.”

“He kept Peter drugged,” Tony said in a low voice because that’s all his mind could focus on. Just the thought of Peter fighting that man. Holding back like he always did, especially because he knew the janitor. How did Wallace even get the drop on him? Did Peter ever get close to getting out of that basement before the man started drugging him three times a day? Did he wonder when Tony was going to come save him?

“Yeah...we sent the samples to Cho so she can figure out what they are exactly and how they affect Peter’s body.”

“He’s addicted to them,” Tony said, remembering his days of spending his nights with drugs and alcohol. “Every day for seven months? The poor kid is going to go through withdrawals.”

“Yes,” Rhodey agreed. “But he's going to get better. We have no reason to believe that Peter was physically or sexually assaulted in that basement. That’s a good sign.”

“He wasn’t assaulted, he was only chained to a fucking bed and treated like a fucking toddler,” Happy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I didn’t say everything was perfect. There are just two fewer things to worry about.”

“Well at least with those two, we know where to start with recovery. I don’t know the protocol for this one.”

“Just like any other recovery,” Tony answered, sick of listening to them argue. “We go in there and we just stand right by his side. We stand there and we stay until he’s better. We do whatever we need to do to help him feel better. There’s nothing else we can do.”

Tony hadn’t meant his words so literally, but that’s exactly what they did. They took turns sitting in chairs by his bed (May the only one constantly there) and waited for a sign of change. For days, Peter laid there and barely moved. On rare occasions, he would open his eyes and let out low whines.

Cho said they were trying to wean him off the drugs Wallace had coursing through his veins. It would take some time. They had a feeding tube in him, IV giving him water, and even a tube to handle the bathroom. Peter was barely doing anything for himself except fighting the withdrawals.

One night Peter woke the medbay with his screams. May attempted to console him as he thrashed in bed, ripping out a few IVs. Tony hated the relief he felt when he heard Peter screaming his name. He went over to his side, grabbed his hand and promised him he was right there and he wasn’t leaving any time soon.

He would make sure to keep that promise, even if it took another seven months before he was able to get out of this bed.

Thankfully, it wasn't that long before Peter was coherent enough to realize what was going on around him. He was still slower than normal because the drugs had muddled his brain good and he needed physical therapy to build up the muscles in his legs from disuse.

He seemed okay mentally though. A little too okay for Tony to believe. Cho told him that it was plausible. Peter's mind could have pushed away the memories or he could just not have remembered it because of all the drugs going through his system.  

As the weeks passed, he slowly started to get better. He stopped whining when he needed something like food or to use the restroom. His stomach was able to handle more than light foods. He could walk around the infirmary without any assistance.

He still had nightmares every so often, but Tony wasn't surprised at that. He still had nightmares over things he went through.

Tony also still caught him raising his thumb to his mouth ever so often. When he was tired or anxious, usually. Cho said it was just the muscle memory of it, but Peter never pulled his finger out until he caught Tony staring at him.

Tony just wanted to understand what was really going on in Peter's mind during this recovery. But how he found out was not the way he wanted to.

Peter was out of the infirmary finally, but staying at the tower in his room. Peter still wasn't back to normal just yet and Tony hadn't even thought about the story they were going to tell. Peter was thought to be dead, they mourned him.

They needed some kind of excuse as to why Peter had disappeared and then reappeared. One that didn't involve Wallace. The only person that knew outside of their small circle and was sworn to secrecy was Ned. Tony had been hesitant, but Peter had begged and he caved. So far, the kid had kept their secret.

May had a room in the tower too, right next to Peter's. At first, she had camped out on the couch in Peter's rook night after night, but Peter after her not to. He wanted some space and privacy after everything that had happened. Tony couldn't blame him.

He was working in the lab until early hours in the morning and when he walked down the hall past Peter's room, something stopped him. Not physically. But something had Tony's mind saying: go in and see him.

So he did.

He didn't knock because he assumed Peter would be asleep by now. However, when he opened the door and stepped inside, he heard him whimpering softly. Tony's heart broke and he wanted to run over there and comfort him, but he also didn't want to alarm him.

So he took slow steps over to him until he walked around the bed and was on the side Peter was curled up and facing. The light on Peter's bedside table was still on, so Tony could see his face clearly. His eyes were squeezed closed and his cheeks were glistening with tear tracks. He was biting his bottom lip so harshly, there was a small trail of blood dripping down his chin.

Tony opened his mouth to say Peter's name, but a memory had him snapping his mouth shut. A memory from one of the first nights that they had Peter home. He had woken up screaming from a nightmare and no one could calm him down. Not even May. Tony wasn't sure how he thought of the idea, but when he had tried it, it worked. His stomach turned and he had said in a soft voice, "Calm down, Liam. It's okay." And Peter settled down with only a few whimpers.

Tony hoped it wouldn't be like that this time. "Peter, are you okay?"

Peter's eyes immediately snapped open and he started to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "M-Mr. Stark, I didn't hear you come in."

Tony felt a wave of relief when he realized Peter was...Peter. “Just came to say goodnight. Did you have a nightmare?” He said on the edge of the bed and rubbed Peter’s arm gently.

“No.” Peter shook his head, going back to gnawing on his bottom lip.

Tony sighed. Did Peter really thinking he could fool Tony when he was still obviously shaken up from whatever was in his dream?  “You don’t have to lie to me, bud. It’s okay to have nightmares.”

“No. I didn’t have a nightmare. I haven’t even fallen asleep yet.”

Peter was just laying here crying for hours. That was worse than the nightmares.

“Do you want to talk about what’s on your mind?”

Peter hesitated and for a moment, Tony thought Peter wasn’t going to answer him. But by some miracle, he did. “I remember it. Most of it is all scrambled from the drugs, but the beginning, I remember it all.”

Tony feared exactly that. He hoped it would stay repressed in his mind. “I’m sorry it took so long, Peter. We tried to find you, but we didn’t even think to look--.”

“It was so humiliating,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “He treated me like a baby. He wouldn’t let me talk besides for small words. He made me call him D-Dad. He called me Liam, his baby. I just had to lay there and let him feed me and carry me to the bathroom and wash me.”

Tony knew all of that. Everyone had a feeling about what happened in that room. No one told them, but they weren't stupid. They could put it all together from seeing Peter in that room and how he was acting. for weeks afterward. Tony knew he had to have gone through some shit, but he never knew for sure. “That wasn’t your fault and no one blames you.”

“It was so humiliating,” Peter sobbed, reaching out for his hand. “But after everything that happened-- even as it was happening, I still-- I still felt bad for him. I still do.”

Tony held onto him in the best attempt he could make at a hug while Peter was laying down and Tony was sitting up. “Because you’re a good kid.” Peter felt bad for every villain because to him, no one was ever evil without a reason to be. There was always something making them act on and Peter believed everyone could see the light again.

“No...I feel bad because I did the same exact thing that he did.”

Tony frowned. “Um, unless you’ve got a kid chained up in the basement to replace your dead son, you didn’t do the exact same thing he did, bud.”

“He lost his son. He was just trying to get him back,” Peter said. “He thought that replacing him would make it hurt less. I did the same thing to you. I used you to replace my uncle. How can I be upset at him when I did the same thing?”

Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. His curls weren’t soft; they were sweaty and greasy. Peter hadn’t liked showering or bathing since he’d been back. They had to force him to most times. Tony wouldn’t be so quick to bathe if it just brought back memories of being washed by some stranger. “You did not do the same thing at all. Do you call me Ben?”

Peter shook his head. “No. Of course not.”

“Because you’re not acting like him. You know I’m not your Uncle Ben. You don’t try to force me to be someone I’m obviously not.” Tony continued to comb his curls methodically. “And I guess you could say I do the same thing.”

“What?” Peter looked up at him, his confusion distracting him from his lip chewing.

“I see you as my kid. You became my kid. Not the one I lost, but the one I never had.”

“Really?”

“Of course. You’re my kid. Which means that I want to help you. You don’t have to go through all of this alone. You don’t have to hide these feelings. It’s okay to go to someone for help. You went through a lot, Peter.”

“He didn’t even hurt me. I’ve been tortured as Spider-Man. This shouldn’t have knocked me down for so long.”

Tony picked the blanket up off of Peter and got into the bed next to him. “This was a type of torture in of itself, buddy. You went through hell for seven months.”

Peter curled up against his side and held onto him tightly. “I just wish there was a way to get him his kid back...for real. It’s not fair.”

Of course, the kid was more worried for Wallace. “We’re going to get him the help he needs, Pete. But let’s worry about you for now, yeah?”

“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I always worry about you, kid. But I worry even more when you’re suffering and you hide it.” Tony looked down at Peter and used the pad of his thumb to wipe the blood off of his chin.

“I don’t want to run and cry to anyone. I’ve been treated like a baby for the past six months. I don’t want you guys to think I’m acting like one now that I’m finally home.”

“You’re not acting like a baby because you ask for help, Peter. And I promise you that no one is going to treat you like a baby. You’re 15. Not 3. We all know that. No one blames you at all. We just want to help you.”

Peter hid his face in Tony’s chest as he let out another sob. “I’m just...really embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t be. I’ve done so much worse on my own will. Just ask Happy or Rhodey.”

Peter shook his head. “They look at me different ever since.”

Tony couldn't deny that, but he also couldn’t blame them. Tony was having trouble himself with this entire situation. “Tomorrow we’ll talk to them and straighten all this out. But for tonight, you have to sleep. You need your rest.”

“I’m afraid to sleep. Every time I fall asleep, I feel like I’m back in that basement, chained to the bed.” Peter whispered.

“I promise you’re not back there. You’re never going back there. I’ve got you, bud.”

“Promise?” Peter’s voice was still a low whisper.

“Of course, I do, kid. I just got you back. I’m not losing you again.”

[parkrstarkwhumps]

I’m gonna have a new fic up today. It fills both the “Chained to a bed” square on my bingo card and is fitting for Day 25 of Whumptober: Humiliation... so get ready for that

[parkrstarkwhumps]

I like your writing so so much can i please request whump prompt 10? Thank!!

Thank you so much!!! Sorry it’s been literal months, I took a long hiatus from tumblr. 

10: “I can’t get up” and also based on this prompt (x)

“Hey, FRI, where’s the kid?” Tony asked, walking away from his very empty room. He tried not to let himself get too upset. They had been steadily improving Peter’s recovery after being kidnapped for three months.

Three long months. Just like Tony had been once. Except they didn’t hurt Peter to force him to build them something, they hurt him just to prove they could. Because apparently for some people, making a child with mutant powers their fucking pet was some power move.

Peter had been a mess ever since they rescued him from the cell they were keeping him in. He barely spoke, never looked anyone in the eyes and when there wasn’t someone telling him what to do, he looked lost.

But they had been working on it. They were going on two full days without Peter falling back into the submissive tendencies they had literally beaten into him.

“He is in the kitchen, sir.”

Tony smiled. Maybe the kid was getting himself some breakfast. Eating food without direct permission was another thing they were trying to work on. Maybe it finally worked. Even if he was just nibbling on a banana. Anything.

He walked into the kitchen, ready to walk over to the table and slap a hand on Peter’s back and tell him how proud he was of him. But his smile disappeared when he wasn’t at the table.

His eyes darted down to the ground where he saw Peter kneeling on the floor, surrounded by shards of glass. He was holding one of his hands to his chest and Tony could see the blood staining the sweatshirt he was wearing. He’d seen Peter bleed worse, but it was still concerning to see that much coming from his hand that was probably cut with glass. It was too much blood.

“FRIDAY, how long has the kid been kneeling here?” Tony asked softly so he didn’t startle Peter. He was staring down at the floor, not moving even at the sound of Tony’s feet against the floor. 

“53 minutes, boss.” Shit. 

“Peter, c’mon, get up bud,” Tony said, walking over slowly. He recognized that glaze over his eyes. He wasn’t in the tower, he was back in that cell.

“I can’t get up, sir,” Peter replied, his voice sounding empty. God, did he even know he was talking to Tony?

“Why can’t you get up? You need help?” Tony was glad he was wearing slippers so he could walk through the glass shards easily. He hoped Peter wasn’t barefoot.

“I’m waiting for my punishment, sir,” he said, his voice shaking in fear. “I broke the bowl. I stained your shirt. I must be punished.”

Tony immediately shook his head, feeling his heart shatter. “No. You don’t need to be punished, Peter. It’s just a bowl and that’s just a sweatshirt. I can replace them both.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter said, one tear falling down his cheek. “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll be better.”

Tony kicked some of the glass out of the way with his feet before kneeling in front of Peter. He cupped his cheeks and whispered softly, “You don’t need to apologize for this, Pete. I will never punish you.”

“I deserve it,” Peter said, even though Tony could tell that was the last thing Peter wanted. He could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice.

“You don’t, buddy. You’re a human kid. You’re in the tower. You’re not back there.” 

“I know that, sir,” Peter replied, refusing to look Tony in the eyes no matter how hard he tried to force him. 

Peter knew where he was and he still thought he needed to be punished. “You’re with me, kid. Mr. Stark. I’m not going to punish you. I promise.” 

Peter’s eyes finally flickered over to his face. “R-really?”

“Of course. Why would I punish you for breaking a bowl?”

“It’s yours and I broke it. I was getting food without asking and then I broke it on you. And then I ruined your sweatshirt that you were kind enough to let me borrow.” 

“The only thing I care about is you, Peter. So, why don’t you stand up with me and let me clean your hands out? I’ll have someone clean this up for us and then we’ll come down for breakfast together. Even though, you’re allowed to eat whenever you want,” he said. “That is allowed.” 

Peter hesitated. “You’re not mad?”

Tony gave him a soft smile. “Not at you, kiddo. Never at you.”

[parkrstarkwhumps]

Friendly reminder that I love you.

friendly reminder that i love you MORE

[parkrstarkwhumps]

I was looking at your banner, and I couldnt help but think of Tony coming across Peter laid out like that post battle.

God, isn’t that a beautiful thought

[parkrstarkwhumps]

Your fic "Close to my heart, Never to part" is so fucking beautiful. I cry every time I read it. And it's amazing how you are able to write amazing fluff and amazing whump so flawlessly

Thank you so much!!!

[parkrstarkwhumps]

day 2: explosion

relationship(s): May/Happy, Peter & Happy, Peter & Happy whumpee: Peter word count: 1.4k

Happy was living with them now which was weird at one point. But now, Peter couldn’t imagine the apartment without him. He woke up and Happy was making coffee and sometimes breakfast for them. It was nice to have someone else in the house when May had early shifts at the hospital. Peter hated being alone. And he was sure May loved having someone home with her when Peter was on patrol or at school.

It took some getting used to...having someone take the place that used to be Ben’s. It hurt at first. But he sat down with Happy and they talked for hours and maybe Peter cried a bit, but in the end, Happy assured him that he wasn’t there to replace his uncle. He could never even dream about coming close to Ben Parker.

Things were good now.

So good that when Peter smelled pancakes from the kitchen, he barely took time to get dressed and comb his hair before he was rushing out of his room to get some. May was sitting at the table, drinking her morning coffee. She smiled up at him when he came in. “You in a rush?”

“Hungry,” was his response as he sat down at the table, mouth-watering.

“Yeah, I bet,” Happy said, walking over with a plate stacked high with pancakes. He was used to Peter’s alarming amount of food needed to satisfy his metabolism.

“What’s the plan for my boys today?” May asked as Happy set her plate down and then took his own seat next to her.

Peter answered with his mouth full. “We’re gonna go to the gym down by that sketchy 24-hour laundromat. Happy is gonna show me his boxing moves.”

May laughed as Happy made a face. “Swallow before you start talking, heathen. No one wants to see that.”

Peter purposely stuck his tongue out to show Happy his half-chewed waffle.

Happy gagged, looking away as May laughed harder.

--

“Alright, kid, get your butt down to the car. If we get there before noon, we can still grab the good mat.”

“The good mat?” Peter asked as he hurried down the stairs, next to Happy.

“Yeah. Not as much blood stains and sweat covering it. Fewer chances of contracting questionable skin diseases.”

Peter pulled a face at that. “Happy, that’s disgusting. Why don’t you have Mr. Stark pay for a membership to a fancy gym? I’m sure he wouldn't mind. He’d probably build you your own gym.”

“Same reason you and May didn’t want him putting you in a new apartment a few years ago. I haven’t taken a hand out form Tony Stark in 30 years and I don’t plan on starting now. Also, this gym has history for me. Friends and memories.”

Peter smiled. “You went there before you even met him?”

“Uh huh. In fact, I was leaving practice from that gym when I first met him,” he answered just as they stepped out of the apartment building.

“No way!” He said, jumping a little at the excitement. He had yet to hear the story of how they met.

“Haven’t heard that story, yet?” Happy asked, bemused as he glanced over at him.

“No!”

“Doesn’t surprise me. If I told you, Tony would probably deny every word.” Happy shrugged his shoulders as he pulled his keys from his pocket.

Peter wanted to keep pushing it and find out the story, but his curiosity stopped when he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up straight. His spidey sense. Something was wrong. And when he looked over at Happy, getting closer to his car parked on the curb, it only got worse. “Happy!”

Happy’s head snapped up at the panic in his voice and he froze a few steps away from the car. “What’s wrong, kid?”

Peter didn't answer because all he heard was the beeping. He rushed forward to grab Happy’s hand and tug him behind him. He yanked his arm and Happy came stumbling backward and Peter took a step in front of him just as the spidey sense screamed so much that Peter felt nauseous.

Then the explosion.

It was so loud that it all went quiet.

Peter felt himself go flying backward and he felt the pain, but he didn’t hear anything. That kind of made it all peaceful. He laid on the street, blinking up at the sky. Smoke was surrounding him. There were muffled screams and yells, but they sounded like whispers from far away.

Peter wanted to get up and see if Happy was okay. He had to make sure he was far away enough when the bomb went off. But then Happy was above him with wide eyes and blood trickling down his cheek. He was saying something, but Peter didn’t hear a word of it.

His hands came to his chest and Peter felt himself scream. But he didn’t hear it.

Happy pulled his hands away, looking terrified.

Peter wanted to hands back no matter how much it hurt. He wanted Happy to hold him. He lifted his hand towards him and let out a whine. He couldn’t hear it, so he hoped it was loud enough. But he whined and reached until Happy was taking his hand in his.

Peter smiled and then shut his eyes. With no sounds, total darkness, and Happy holding his hand, it wasn’t hard to let himself fall asleep.

--

He woke up and it wasn’t silent. There was beeping and there was someone talking.

“How long is he supposed to be asleep? They said he’d be up hours ago!”

“Tony, sit down. He’s recovering from the surgery. He’s okay.”

“I can’t sit down! 15 pieces, Happy! They pulled 15 pieces of shrapnel from his goddamn chest!”

“Yes, Tony. I know that. I saw. Please don’t remind me.”

Happy’s response was curt and Peter heard Tony sigh. “I’m sorry, Happy...I just-- I know what it’s like and I don’t want the kid going through everything I did.”

“He won’t, Tony,” another voice said. That was May. “They got them all out. His heart is fine.”

“No thanks to me,” Happy grumbled.

There was the sound of someone back smacked in the arm. “Stop that, Happy. You are not blaming yourself for a bomb that someone else left.”

“He pulled me out of the way. He should have just ran. I should have just known.”

Tony joined in on comforting Happy. “You were off duty, Happy. You were taking the kid out for the day. You shouldn’t have to check for bombs on your car.”

“Still, I should have been more careful…”

Peter was sick of them all blaming themselves. He was fine. Adults always worried too much. He blinked his eyes open to see Happy and May sitting next to him while Tony paced behind them. They didn’t notice his eyes open.

“Hey,” he croaked, gaining their attention. “Do you think they’ll let me keep the shrapnel? I wanna show it to Ned. Maybe get MJ a bracelet to match her necklace.”

“Peter, honey!” May rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. She started kissing his cheek over and over.

“I love you too, May,” he said, wincing at all the affection as Happy and Tony just watched. He just survived a bomb attack, he didn’t want her to make him seem like a total softie just when he had total badass rep.

“Kid, you do that again and I promise I will wring your neck,” Happy promised.

Tony joined in. “Shrapnel in your goddamn chest while I had to wait 5 hours to see if you were okay? Do you like to test my heart?”

“You know, I was hoping to wake up with an arc reactor. Kinda bummed there’s nothing there.” Peter pouted, watching the fire in Tony’s eyes glow.

“Oh, no! We are not wishing for arc reactors in our chest, Peter Benjamin.”

Peter laughed when he saw the vein in his neck start to pop. That meant it was time to let Tony relax. “I’m joking, Mr. Stark. Promise. About the arc reactor. I still want that shrapnel.”

Tony walked over, shaking his head as he grabbed Peter’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Kid, you gotta stop scaring us old men. Our hearts can’t take it. I warned you. I said, don’t give Happy a hard time. You seemed to do the exact opposite and if you put my buddy or yourself in the hospital, I will not be a happy camper. Got it?”

Peter rolled his eyes but squeezed Tony’s hand too. “Yeah, yeah, grandpa. I got it.”

“I hate you, Parker.”

“No, you don’t.” Peter grinned.

Tony sniffed, looking away from Peter. “Fine. I don’t. But you’re getting close. Real close, Spider-Baby.”

[parkrstarkwhumps]

day 1: shaky hands

relationship(s): Steve/Tony, mentioned Superfamily whumpee: Steve word count: 1.4k

When Steve was a kid, he wasn’t good at much of anything...he wasn’t even good at living. He struggled to breathe and walk on a daily basis. If he was outside for just a second too long during the winter, he’d be sick in bed for days.

So attempting to develop any kind of skill would be pointless. He couldn’t play ball with the other boys in the street. He couldn’t chase any kids around to play tag. He could sit and read, but that wasn’t really something to brag about. Everyone could read.

But not everyone could draw.

Neither could he at first. Of course, his mother always complimented his sketches, but as he grew older, he knew they were nothing special. Just any other stick figure drawing a kid could have.

So, he practiced.

He spent his winters, curled up in a blanket with his mom sketching on every open space in his sketchbook. As the months passed, he could tell when his mother started to actually become impressed by his work.

And for once in his life, Steve felt proud of something he did.

That never changed. Even after the serum, his art was always able to make him feel just a little better about himself. When nothing else was going right, at least he had his art.

Until that mission.

The mission that was weeks ago.

He should be fine by now. His serum should have taken care of all the wounds and he should be good as new-- better than new. And for the most part, it did. The gash in his head was closed up and there wasn’t even a scar. The burns were long gone. His skin was as smooth as a baby’s.

It didn’t scare him at the time. It had been a rough mission and all Steve really remembered was shoving Peter-- as Spider-Man-- out of the way of a falling building. Steve was unconscious for most of it. He woke up hours later in the infirmary, barely remembering anything from the fight.

When he woke up to see Peter staring at him, that look in his eyes let him know whatever happened was not good.

It was a few days before he was awake and coherent at the same time. Then the doctors ran through the list of injuries and what was wrong. He didn’t worry about it. Burns healed. Wounds closed. But two words that did scare him were: brain injury.

For the first few weeks, he had just been slower than normal. Slower to answer questions, slower to speak for he didn’t stumble through his words, slower to react, slower to move. But he was slowly getting better. The doctors didn’t promise a recovery as all brains were different, especially the brain of a super-soldier.

The one thing that wasn’t getting better was the shaking. ‘Tremors’ the doctor called them. His hands didn’t constantly shake, but they shook at the worst times.

When he tried cupping Tony’s cheeks in his hands, they shook.

When he tried clipping Dodger’s leash on his collar, they shook.

When he tried finishing a puzzle with Peter, they shook.

When he tried drawing, they shook…

When he was with Tony and he noticed the shaking, he’d just take his hands in his and kiss them. Dodger couldn’t understand why it was taking Steve longer than normal to get him ready for their morning runs. Peter was always patient even when Steve wanted to just throw the puzzle.

But he drew when he was alone and no one was there to hide his frustrations from. No one was there to calm him down.

He was trying to finish painting a new landscape for Peter’s fishbowl because of course, they had to change it as seasons and holidays changed. He was making one that was more springy and less winter themed. The snow was melting outside and the sun was coming out for longer amounts. He needed to finish this.

But every time he tried to paint the flowers on the grass, his muscles twitched and the paintbrush jerked harshly, ruining the painting. He was on his sixth try when he had such a bad tremor that it caused his brush to make a stroke across half the canvas. And ruin it.

“Dammit!” He yelled, throwing the paintbrush to his table. When he was upset, it only made the tremors worse, but he couldn’t focus on relaxing when he was so pissed off at everything.

He looked down at his hands as they shook, whether, from the tremor or the anger, he wasn’t sure. “Can’t you just stop?” He yelled. “Can’t you just let me do one thing? One thing I’m good at?Please. Let me paint this for my son. It’s not even for me.”

He stared down at them as they continued to shake. They didn’t stop until...there was someone grabbing them softly.

He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his blurry vision. His husband was standing in front of him. “Tony, when did you get here?” He wanted to pull his hands away and hide them, but Tony held them still.

“FRIDAY told me you were upset. You’ve been doing nothing but staring at your hands for a while now…”

A while? It didn’t feel like more than a few seconds to him. “I’m trying to paint…”

Tony looked down at the table where his discarded mess of a painting was. “The doctors say it could be a few months...why don’t you take it easy?”

Steve grunted, yanking his hands away. They started to shake again. “Because I took it easy for the first 18 years of my life. I never did anything except draw...and now I can’t even do that.”

“Says who?”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Look at it yourself, Tony.”

“Make it into something new. Isn’t that what your artist always says? Happy little accidents?”

“Don’t use Bob Ross against me,” Steve warned with no heat to his words. “I don’t want any accidents because there shouldn’t be. I just want it to be like normal.”

Tony turned around to his table and picked up a sketchpad and a pencil. He pushed them to Steve’s chest. “Take that and draw.”

“Tony, I can’t,” he repeated, frustration bleeding through his voice.

“Do it. Just try.”

Steve huffed loudly so Tony knew he wasn’t happy with him before taking the pad and pencil in his hands. He decided to try something simple and just draw his shield. Just a few circles and a star. He could do that with his eyes closed.

Except now, he was only a few seconds into it when his pencil suddenly veered left and ruined his circle. He couldn’t even draw a damn circle. His eyes started to burn in humiliation. “I told you I can’t do it!” He hated how his voice broke and shook just like his hands. His damn hands-- he felt like a child. He felt like he was 10-years-old again and Bucky was trying to teach him how to hit a baseball and he couldn’t even do that.

“Keep drawing, Steve. Don’t stop.”

“Tony, it’s horrible--.”

“Finish the drawing.”

Steve clenched his jaw and started to drag his pencil across the paper again. When the pencil spiked away from the arc Steve had going, Tony said, “Don’t stop,” before Steve could even lift his pencil up. He couldn’t stop drawing it until he had it finished.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Tony, Peter could draw better holding the pencil with his teeth and drawing with his eyes closed.” Steve refused to even look at the drawing.

Chuckling, Tony said, “You’re giving him a little too much credit, love.” He sighed when Steve didn’t react to his comment. “Steve, you’re being too hard on yourself. So, it’s a little shaky. It’s not going to last forever. And even if it did, it’s still art and it’s still beautiful. No one can take that away from you.”

Steve shook his head. That wasn’t beautiful. Not compared to other stuff he’d done.

Tony hovered his hand over Steve’s hand that was holding the pencil. “May I?”

Steve wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he nodded his head anyway.

Tony placed his hand over Steve’s and started to move it across the paper, drawing with the pencil. He lifted his hand a few times when needed and when it shook, Steve wanted to pull away of embarrassment, but Tony held his hand through the twitches until they were finished. Even as they admired their work, still he held Steve’s hand.

“Looks good doesn’t it?”

Steve laughed down at the doodle. It was a messy heart with the initials T and S written inside it.

“You know,” Tony said softly, resting his chin on Steve’s shoulder. “I think that may be my favorite piece you’ve ever done.”

Steve hated that he couldn't help but smile. "Yeah. Me too."

my ao3 | buy me a ko-fi

[parkrstark]

commissions

Things are getting stressful here with tuition and other school fees right now. So, I need to open commissions back up again…

I’m offering two kinds of commissions: normal commissions and ko-fi commissions.

Normal Commissions:

Pricing is 5 USD per 1,000 words.

Your prompts can be as detailed as you’d like.

Payment is through PayPal or Venmo.

Fic can be as long as 10k.

Only a few spots available.

Ko-Fi Commissions:

Pricing is 3 USD. (You can donate more, but the fic will remain the same length, so if you’re interested in getting a long fic, then I suggest the normal commission).

Fic will be no longer than 1,000 words.

Prompts are more general.

Payments made through Ko-Fi.

What I Will Write:

I mainly write Iron Dad (Peter and Tony), but some other relationships I can also write are:

Steve/Tony

Superfamily (Steve/Tony and Peter)

Ned/Peter

Peter/Harry

Happy and Peter

Rhodey and Peter

What I Won’t Write

Smut

Anti-Team Cap/Steve bashing

Spideypool

Both of these lists are not limited to what I listed. When you email me, we can go into more detail of what I will be willing to write.

If you’re interested in either commissions, please email me [email protected] and we can get started!

[parkrstarkwhumps]

I'm going to attempt to keep up with whumptober! My fics will be a mix of iron dad, superfamily, stony, and happy&peter!