#irondad cures my soul

[lyssismagical]

21 + 28 + 30 + 35 from the prompt list with irondad please

21. “Dad.”

28. “I got you.”

30. “I’m scared.”

35. “Please don’t go.”

Based on an episode of Criminal Minds don’t @ me it’s not my fault

 It’s supposed to be a simple mission.

One case of Anthrax poisoning in the city, followed by seven more, is cause for concern. A few days later, fifteen people at a park are hospitalized with the same conditions is enough for the Avengers to be called in to try to find the perpetrator.

They don’t normally help with investigations, but if they can help, they’re always willing to when they’ve got nothing better to do.

The police narrow it down to one specific professor in Queens who had a fascination with Anthrax. They weren’t sure if he was a suspect or not, but they were hoping if they weren’t, they could at least see if he could help find a cure to the strand of Anthrax being released in the city.

Tony’s phone rings as they’re walking up the driveway. Tony, Peter, and Natasha are the ones to check out the house, the rest of them gathered at the precinct or following other leads.

Peter goes up ahead without a second thought, walking through the unlocked back door.

And that’s when he sees it.

“Get back!” he shouts, slamming the glass door shut behind him. He locks it, dooming his own fate.

There’s a broken vial of anthrax on the floor. Peter’s already doomed himself, he’s already inhaled the anthrax in the air, at the very least, he can spare the lives of Tony and Natasha.

“What-” Natasha freezes, seeing the vial on the ground. “Peter. Open this door right now.”

Tony rounds the corner and his eyes go wide. He yanks at the door, cursing when it doesn’t open. “Peter, don’t do this. Open the door. Get out of there.”

“It’s too late for me,” Peter says, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall. He’s scared, of course he’s scared. He’s going to die if a cure isn’t found. He’s already been exposed to the virus. “I won’t risk exposing anyone else. If I open the door, who knows who’ll get hurt.”

“It’s not too late. It can’t be-”

Natasha grabs Tony before he can hit the glass any harder. “He’s right. He can help from inside. If the Anthrax strain is in there, the cure has to be in there too.”

There are no more arguments to be made, nothing to say, no way to save his life now that he’s inside, exposed.

Peter pauses, taking a deep, measured breath, trying to calm his racing heart. It’s a race against the clock. The anthrax will kill him if he can’t find the cure.

“It’s going to be okay,” he says, though he doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince.

 *

As the hours pass, the coughing starts.

And gets worse.

He tries to cover it, but it’s useless. It hurts his chest more when he pretends he isn’t coughing, and his eyes water and his hands tremble and his shoulders jump.

At hour four, uselessly going through the professor’s journals and books and belongings, the sweating begins. He must have a fever, chills wracking his body but sweat clinging to his skin and clothes.

Nat disappears at some point, going back to the precinct to beg people to help Peter. But Tony doesn’t go anywhere.

At hour five, Peter starts to really feel it. He might die here. He will probably die, stuck on the other side of a glass door.

He sits down, dizzy and sweating and coughing, gasping for breath. He presses his back against the wall, curling up against the door as though he can get some kind of comfort from Tony despite the barrier standing in the way.

“You’re going to be just fine,” Tony says, though he doesn’t sound confident. “Just keep breathing, kiddo.”

Peter nods, pressing his forehead against the glass to relieve some of the heat radiating from him. “Please don’t go.”

“Of course, bambino, I got you, I’m right here.”

“I’m scared,” he admits, nothing more than a child in that moment. Not a superhero, not a member of the Avengers, nothing more than a sixteen-year-old child facing death alone for the first time. He’s just a kid, just a scared kid who desperately wants comfort.  

Tony’s barely holding back his tears, pressing up against the other side of the glass. “You’re going to be okay. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

They don’t mention that the Anything has already happened. Peter’s been exposed alone to anthrax, and there’s a very scary chance that he might die alone too.

Peter coughs again, harsher than ever, blood spotting on his sleeve. It’s gotten worse, he’s going to die if the Avengers don’t find something soon. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he can’t breathe, coughing hard enough to nearly throw up. The glass fogs up and he lets out a broken sob, hope crumbling.

“Dad,” he chokes out, pressing a hand against the glass. His vision is blurring and he knows. He knows, he knows, he knows. “Tell May- Tell May I love her and that I’m sorry. If I- If I don’t make it.”

“I will,” Tony says but his voice breaks, giving away his pain.

Peter lets his eyes fall shut.

“I love you, kid.”

The world falls dark.

 Late that night, Peter will wake up in a hospital, Tony still right at his side like he’d never once been anywhere but right there.

When he asks, he’ll be told that the cure was found at the professor’s ex-wife’s house in the nick of time. Peter barely made it out of it alive.

Tony presses a kiss to his forehead and tells him to rest.

Peter squeezes his hand and lets his eyes fall shut. “I love you too, Mister Stark.”

Taglist:  @littlemissagrafina  @spideyspeaches @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames @you-did-it-sir @not-today-thx @fandomstuffff {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[ofwrittenlegacy]

hi hi babe can I please get #94: “I had a bad dream again.” with Peter having a really bad nightmare because im a predictable bitch and I love you/your writing so much?? <3

hi my love!!! Absolutely you can! Thank you so much! I’m pretty new to writing Marvel but I am ready to write millions of Irondad fics. I hope you enjoy! xx. 

You can read it here on AO3! 

Death was staring him in the face.

Peter was trapped, frozen. He was in a yellow tinted enclosure, incarcerated and chained. And Death was seducing him. He took many forms. Thanos, Vulture, the silly gunman from last Thursday. His hands were surprisingly warm as he touched Peter’s neck. Warm like the singular tear Peter felt drip on his forehead as he turned to dust in his mentor’s arms.

“You really shouldn’t trust a soul in this game,” Death said, smiling. “Not when everyone has something to gain or lose.”

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Peter begged himself to wake up. This wasn’t real. He could make it stop. He screamed. Peter screamed himself hoarse. Until his throat was raw. No one answered.

Death wrapped a hand around his throat. “It’s time for you to answer for your sins, Peter Parker.”

_____

Peter woke up fighting. He swung but his hands didn’t connect with anything. Instead, he found himself being pinned down. He couldn’t breathe. The room was still and quiet but Peter felt a hurricane of emotions whirling within him. In his muddy, half asleep brain, Peter could make out the faint glowing blue light above his head but panic was beginning to settle into his bones.

It starts out as thin as cellophane, something he could tear away with his fingers but in the next moment it’s a deluge of ice water drenching every limb, creeping higher until it enters his mouth and nose. That's when the attack becomes absolute, shutting his body down like Death had pressed his biological reset button.

He hadn’t realized he was crying until the weight pinning him down lifted.

“Whoa, Pete, hey, breathe! It’s just me. I-It’s Tony. Fuck, uh, FRI, I need lights at 50%.” Slowly the lights came up and Peter realized the faint blue light he was staring at was coming from Tony’s chest. It was comforting. Peter focused on the light and drug in a deep breath. He had to keep breathing. He forced his chest to expand, gasping greedily for breath.

“Hi, yeah, there we go buddy. Good job. Keep breathing for me, Underoos.” Peter blinked, sending the hot tears down his cheeks. He could see Tony lowering himself to his knees by his side. A callous thumb brushed across his cheek, chasing away the tear. Peter leaned into the touch. "It's over now. I'm here."

“Hey kiddo,” Tony whispered as if he were afraid he’d scare Peter. His attempts were futile but Peter was grateful nonetheless. At least he could breathe again but unshed tears clung to his eyelashes. “What’s going on?”

Peter pushed himself up on an elbow. He was in his bedroom in the tower. Tony was wearing sweats and no shirt. He was sleeping, a rare occasion, and Peter felt a pang of guilt.

“I had a bad dream again.” He replied lamely. Now that he uttered it out loud, he felt stupid for the theatrics. It was nearing sunrise and Tony was cooing to him all because the Soul Stone left him with some unpleasant memories. How was he going to be a superhero if he couldn’t handle flirting with Death?

Tony breathed out a laugh. “Yeah, I saw. Seemed pretty rough. Want to talk about it?”

Peter kicked off the covers and sat up. His chest hurt and his hands were shaking. God, he hated waking up so violently. It was a wonder Tony was able to keep him pinned down with his super strength whilst managing to dodge the punches Peter was throwing. Tony was a miracle worker.

“Not really,” Peter rubbed the back of his neck. Now that he had come to, he felt his face heat with embarrassment. He was almost 17 and here he was, sitting with Tony Stark, who had watched him blubber like a baby and now his mentor was going to play Dr. Phil. He just wished it would all stop.

“Well, at least it was just a nightmare. It’s over now.” Tony grunted and he clambered to his feet and sat next to Peter on the bed.

“Riddle me this.” Peter focused on Tony. In the faint light, Tony’s hazel eyes twinkled. He had been through twice as much and yet here he was. A few grey hairs but he was here. He was whole. He was okay. Would Peter ever be okay? “How can I call it a nightmare if it doesn’t end when I’m awake?”

That seemed to floor Tony. They were both familiar with the concept. Peter couldn’t breathe when his class started talking about cosmology or astronomy. Tony had nearly collapsed the first time he heard Another One Bites the Dust. The end of the world had nearly came. It wasn’t a nightmare anymore. That was a bullshit nickname fed to children when they thought the boogie man was going to chew off their toes. This was a day terror. Something that terrorized each person’s every living moment. The fear that something greater than Thanos would come. And this time, they wouldn’t win.

Peter stared up at Tony, hoping he had the secret answer to cure him but Tony stared back with the same haunted gaze. Everything flipped through his mind like a photo album he wanted to burn.

“That’s the price, buddy.” Tony said softly. Distantly. “Sometimes you sacrifice your own sanity for the well being of others. But you keep fighting. You always keep fighting.” Tony said. With great power comes great responsibility. Peter cast his gaze to the floor but Tony caught his chin, searching his face. He cupped his cheek. “I’m here for you. When you’re ready to talk. I’ll always be here for you.”

Deadly and sweet. Tony was two souls fused together. He was everything Peter needed and more than anything he deserved. Peter launched himself forward, wrapping his arms around Tony’s neck. Tony laughed and snaked his arms around Peter’s lower back. He could feel Tony shudder with contained laughter when Peter pressed his face to his neck.

“I love you, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was halfway sure he could hear Tony’s chest still in his chest. He knew Tony wasn’t accustomed to affection. Howard had never been one for the warm fuzzy feelings, according to records. So he was doubly surprised when he felt Tony press a cold kiss to his forehead.

“I...yeah. I, uh, love you too, Peter.”

Peter visibly relaxed, tension bleeding out of him like a marionette with its strings cut.

“You look awfully tired for a web slinger. How about we try the sleep thing again?” Tony tried to sound casual but his voice sounded tight with emotion.

“Will you stay?” Peter asked. Innocence laced the question to heavily, it seemed to startle Tony into remembering he was just a child. Just a child.

Tony easily pushed Peter to the other side of the bed, and then slid beneath the covers. “Absolutely.”

Once he settled, Peter wasted no time crawling over and wriggling his way under his arm and resting his head a little to the right of his arc reactor. The faint blue glow was comforting. A constant. As long as it kept pulsing, he’d be okay.

“FRI, lights off.” Tony said softly, holding Peter close. Darkness cast shadows over the room. “You good kid?”

“Yeah.” Peter yawned. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

“Consider this a rare delicacy. Not many people can say they’ve shared a bed with The Tony Stark.”

“Only two-thirds of the entire population. Super rare.” Peter began smiling when his head vibrated with Tony’s thundering laughter.

“See, I know you’ll be just fine, Pete.” The arm tightened around Peter and he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he would be just fine.

Tiredness swallowed him whole. His chestnut lashes fluttered and oblivion engulfed him. Sleep painted him, and then Tony, coloring them and dragging them under; as though the intensity of his exhaustion had created a perfect canvas for them.

[science-lings]

Okay, I have major writer's block and I can only cure it by writing drabbles instead of trying to continue one of my many plot-driven fics. Send me a prompt or au here or on @sciencelings-writes

I have a few AUs that I’ve already thought of and either didn’t have the dedication to write a full fic or the writer's block applies to it. Here are some of them (all irondad) Maleficent AU, soul bond AU, Game of Thrones AU, pilot aunts AU (Carol and Maria as Peter’s aunts), PJO AU, MCU young avengers AU, Fantasy Ironfamily, HTTYD AU, Star Wars/ Jedi AU, and atm that’s all I can think of. If you have any specific ideas either that could go with one of these or something completely new, send it to me and I’ll attempt to write something for it! 

These are just ficlets and they will not be very long!

[zojnks]

Hey! I always find in irondad fics Tony saying than Peter still gonna give him a heart attack. Can you do one where this really happens? Like, Peter is reckless, Tony end up having a heart attack and the spider feels extremely guilty. I really like your work, congratulations!

Hey anon!! It’s a little short, but hopefully it’s what you wanted :)

Peter has been out all night. He left around 10:30, with a promise to check in around midnight. Tony has been worried sick, pacing around the living room in the penthouse, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows that line the walls. All he can is blurred shapes of color because of the rain that’s currently pounding against the glass. Tony thinks he might even be able to see lightning strikes in the distance.“C'mon, kid, come home,” Tony whispers to himself, nervously tapping his fingers on his thighs as he walks back and forth. “FRIDAY, status on Peter Parker, please?” Tony says, his voice cracking and tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He’s already lost his boy once, he’s not about to let it happen again. “Sorry boss, but it appears that Peter’s tracker seems to have gone offline due to the storm. I can recheck once the storm passes in approximately 50 minutes,” FRIDAY replies, voice soft and non-threatening.Tony’s breath stalls as he drops onto the couch that’s in front of the windows. His mind is racing a mile a minute and his thoughts are spinning in a way that his mind can’t grasp. Only one thought rises to the surface.Pete’s not coming home.-Peter Parker has been out enjoying himself as Spider-Man for a couple hours now. It’s the first time Tony and May have allowed him to go out since the snap. Peter has been going to therapy for a couple months in order to deal what he saw in space, but he finds swinging and “helping the little guy” to be the best cure for his stress and anxiety. He hasn’t been paying attention to the time, but he’s fairly sure that it’s not even close to midnight. Still, as he swings by the Chrysler Building, he asks Karen to check the time.“It is currently 2:27 AM, Peter. You were supposed to call Mr. Stark approximately two and a half hours ago,” she replies.Peter feels his grip on his web slacken before he grabs on tight again. “Karen! What the hell! You were supposed to remind me 5 minutes before midnight!” Peter yells indignantly.“Sorry, Peter. I was planning on it, but 18 minutes into your patrol you yelled out ‘This is the best night of my life, Karen, make sure nothing interrupts me’. Therefore, I saw no reason to disturb your peace with a check-in call.”Peter curses under his breath before rapidly changing directions. He swings as fast as he can to get back to the penthouse, flying past apartment buildings and skyscrapers alike. Peter makes it back to the penthouse in record time, quickly unlatching the window to his room and tumbling inside. He takes off his mask and shakes his hair like a dog, which had unfortunately gotten soaked through his costume. He runs to the living room, skidding to a halt as he reaches the doorway. “I’m back, Mr. Stark. No need to worry!” Peter says with a nervous laugh. He listens for a response before walking into the room, trying to be quiet.“Mr. Stark? Are you napping on the window couch? I’m sorry for waking you up, I know that’s your favorite spot to crash aft-” Peter cuts himself off when he sees a lifeless-looking Tony Stark lying on the floor in front of the window, his body being lit up by intermittent lightning strikes.Peter falls to his knees.-Peter sits in an uncomfortable hospital chair, his hands pulling on his hair as silent tears stream down his cheeks. Peter knows, deep down in his soul, that this is his fault. Not anyone else’s- his. If he had just not been stupid enough to shout out dumbass things while he swings, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just listened to Mr. Stark and come back before the check-in, this wouldn’t have happened. If he wasn’t such a burden to Mr. Stark, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just not been an idiot and gone off from the field trip, and got bit by that spider, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had even the smallest shred of responsibility, this wouldn’t have happened.But it did. And it’s all Peter’s fault.Peter sat in that horrible plastic chair for another 3 hours, waiting for any contact from the doctor. Finally, she came rushing out of the room, coat flapping behind her.“Hello, Mr. Parker,” she says carefully. “We have some bad news.”

And that’s it!! I usually don’t write angst, but hopefully this was good. I really enjoyed writing it.