Imagine your father, Tony Stark, walking in and seeing Peter shirtless in your bedroom (also, I imagine you guys are maybe Juniors or Seniors in High School during this)
- Head Honcho ~ Zoe
“Don’t you want to take off your suit?” You question as you and Peter lay on your bed, cuddled up under the covers with the Star Wars’ menu playing on the portable movie player your father made for your birthday last year. The actual device is like his phones but it projects the screen above it like one of his blueprint tables.
“But then I won’t feel like a cool badass superhero.” He whines, throwing his head back.
“Boohoo.” You pout out your bottom lip, mocking your boyfriend. “Now take it off.” You pat his chest then scoot away from him so he can stand up. When he does get up from the bed, you make sure to place a firm slap upon his precious little butt.
“Aye.” He covers his behind, turning around to scold you but you give him an innocent look.
“What?” You shrug. “I couldn’t help myself.” You smile and burrow back into your blankets.
“You never can help yourself.” He chuckles, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry that I love you so much!”
“You’re not sorry for that.” He scoffs, you nod. “But you should be sorry for how hands-y you are.” He points a finger at you.
“I’m a Stark, it’s in my blood.” You raise your hands up in defense. “Now take it off before I come over there and help you.”
Peter just shakes his head at you but none the less has a small smile on his face. He presses the spider in the middle of his chest causing his suit to loosen as he walks over to your dresser.
He lets his suit fall down his body while he digs through his clothes in the top drawer. You don’t fight the grin that easily comes on your face when you watch your boyfriend of two years sort through the drawer. The normalcy of it makes your heart all warm and fuzzy… speaking about warm and fuzzy;
“Can you throw me a sweater?” You call to him. He nods, grabbing his famous dark blue Midtown School of Science & Technology pullover. “Thank you.” You catch the clothing item he threw.
“No prob…lem.” He cuts himself off with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head.
“Tired?” You inquire, trying to find the head hole of the garment before putting it on.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Last night’s mission was rough.” He sighs, dropping his arms to his side.
"I know, I was there.” You let out a breathy laugh then (attempt to) pull his sweater over your head. Now it’s Peter’s turn to smile and get the warm, fuzzy feeling.
He tries to shake the teenage boy thoughts out of his head that were trying to replace his sweet innocent ones. He lets out a sigh and turns around back to the drawer, fixing the waistband of his boxers so they aren’t hanging so low on his hips
“What the hell is going on here?” Someone demands, their voice loud and full of anger. You don’t see who it is because you are currently struggling with the pullover.
“N-n-nothing, Mr. Stark.” Peter stutters out.
“Nothing my ass.” You hear your father mumble then you hear footsteps stomp against your floor followed by something slamming against the wall.
You finally get your head in the right hole and see your father holding your boyfriend to the wall, a furious look on his face.
“Dad!!” You shout, flinging your blankets off and rushing to the two. ”Dad!” You grab his arm and pull him back enough to get between the two men. “Calm down.”
Your father clenches his jaw and looks between the two of you. He notices your worried expression and relaxes his posture but doesn’t get out of protective dad mode.
“Sit down.” He demands, pointing to the bed while he walks a few feet in front of it. “Both of you, sit down.” He repeats. You and Peter share a hesitant look but go over to the bed and sit down at the foot of it.
A painful silence falls between the three of you as your father paces back and fourth.
“I-I-I swear, we didn’t do anything.” Peter bravely breaks the silence
“Then why are you stuttering?” Dad questions, Peter’s eyes widen.
“Th-tha-that’s a good point, but to be fair, I always stutter around you.” He lets out a nervous laugh, Dad sends him a look causing him to shut up and look down at his hands.
You sigh and hang your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Peter’s hands shaking a little bit. Even with Peter being Spiderman, he still shakes when he’s nervous or scared… especially when it comes to your father.
You carefully pull his hand from his lap and place it in yours, your fingers interlaces with his.
“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” Your father finally says. “I went to you for help and gave you a new suit, all access to… some of my lab, and you’re getting a free ride to college from my sponsorship for you.”
“And…” He stops pacing and runs a hand through his hair. “And to say thank you, you… fondue with my daughter.”
“As much as I hate to point this out right now, you knew and approved of Peter and I dating.” You bring up, your dad opens his mouth to speak but closes it.
“But I didn’t approve of you two fondueing.” He smirks.
You let out a scoff while rolling your eyes.
“You shouldn’t be one to scold me about that.” You call out. “And we weren’t doing anything like Peter said.”
“Then why were you getting your shirt back on and why was–” He sighs and facepalms. “–why is he–” He points to a very de-robed Spiderman. “in his underwear?” Peter’s face turns red and he grabs a blanket and covers himself up.
“I was cold and Peter was changing out of his suit.” You defend. “And if we were doing something, you could’ve walked in on a much worse moment.” Peter’s eyes widen and he shrinks down a bit, cringing at what you just said.
“I’m going to pretend you, my sweet little innocent pride and joy, didn’t just say that.” Dad closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “But I’m just going to at least hope you guys are responsible.” He hints, not wanting to fully say to ‘use condoms’. You nod but his eyes are on Peter for that one.
“Peter.” He calls, the young brunette’s head shoots up. “Responsible?”
“What?” He furrows his eyebrows, you nudge his arm and give him a look. “Oh, yeah, yeah. Of course!” He furiously blushes but nods his head.
“Ok.” Dad wipes his sweaty hands on his pants while letting out a deep breath. “So, I’m just going to go then…” He slowly makes his way towards the door. “But if I do happen to come in here later, you both better be clothed and being sickeningly cute couple by cuddling, okay?”
“Yes, sir.” You both nod.
“Good.” He faintly smiles. “I’m going to go now…” He slowly closes the door.
“Bye, Dad.” You wave.
“Bye.” He sits his head back in then goes back to slowly closing the door. “Pizza for dinner.” He announces.
“Alright.” You giggle. ”Bye, Dad.” You repeat.
“Bye.” He whispers, the door fully closing now.
You wait a few seconds to let your father walk away from the door to say anything.
“Soooo…” You speak up. “Want to start the movie?”
“Please.” He stands up, heading to your dresser to start it and get every layer of clothing he can incase your father walks back in.