would you be willing to write some more tony stark with peter parker and their father-son relationship? because i think it's so precious and i loved your story with peter getting drunk! maybe you could write something with peter being really, really sad and crying and desperately needing a hug and feeling like nobody cares about him and someow he finds his way over to tony. and before tony can even ask what's wrong peter just breaks down crying, so tony comforts him and hugs him maybe?
Everything was blurry. He felt wobbly on his legs; a little bit like he’d been concussed, except he knew there would be pain if he had. Physical pain, anyway. Or blood.
From behind him, people were laughing. It was loud and grated against his ears. He wanted to tell them to shut up; to scream at them, or hit them, but he knew he couldn’t. He was too strong. One punch might kill them, for all he knew.
He couldn’t do a damn thing.
More laughs. Someone shoved him in the shoulder, and he would’ve ducked out of the way, but it would’ve looked too fast to be normal, so he let them.
“Awwww, guys, look at him, he’s going to cry!” Someone called out, and Peter looked down to the floor immediately, desperately fighting back the hotness behind his eyes. Fuck fuck fuck fuck- he wasn’t supposed to cry, he was bigger than that, he was a superhero for Christ’s sake, he could take a little teasing-
“Oh my God, look at him! He’s actually fucking crying!”
He wanted Ned. Or MJ. Where the hell were they- it was their spot in the school cafeteria, they were supposed to be here, he needed them to be here right now, everyone else was stood around him, crowding him, crushing him, he couldn’t breathe- he wanted at least one person on his side, Jesus-
“Aww, Peter,” came a soft voice to his right, so pretty and nice and exactly what Peter had loved listening to for such a long time now, “you really think I would actually have said yes? For like…serious?”
Someone shoved his shoulder again, harder this time, and Peter gritted his teeth, getting to his feet. He’d had enough of this, he needed to find…something, a toilet maybe, or an empty classroom-
Hands grabbed on to his jacket and shoved him back on to the seat again, and Peter physically fought back the urge to grab their wrist and force them off. He’d hurt them. He’d hurt them he’d hurt them he’d hurt them, he was too strong, he’d hurt them-
“You’re honestly one of the most pathetic things I’ve ever seen, Jesus, Parker,” someone else, a boy this time, leaned down and ruffled a rough hand through his hair. Everyone laughed again.
He was done.
Getting to his feet, he ignored the people who tried to push him back down again. Strength be fucking damned, he wasn’t going to spend another second in their company. He pushed at the nearest person he could reach, and then watched as they were yanked out of place and sent hurtling across the room, falling on to their back and rolling all the way across the cafeteria.
There was dead, stagnant silence.
Peter stared, horror-stricken. Oh…fucking Christ, what if he’d hurt him-
“What the shit?” The boy called out angrily, getting back to his feet and staring across the room with a look that could’ve curdled milk.
Right. Not that injured, then.
“What the fuck is your problem, Parker?” The boy snarled, beginning to step forward, and there was a crowd gathering now, obviously preparing for some sort of fight, and where the hell were all the teachers, shouldn’t they sort this shit out-
“FIGHT!” Someone called, breaking the silence, and then suddenly they were all yelling; chants and sneers, egging the other boy on as he took another step, vicious grin on his face.
Peter had to stop this. Immediately.
Turning on his heel, he did the only thing he could think of.
He ran and ran until he reached the main entrance, and then he kept running until the school was just a distant building amongst the many in Queens.
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