Chapter Four

934 46 3
                                    

A/N: Here goes my 'every chapter' monologue lmao 😂 I don't want to take chances

This is another fanfic I wrote in late 2017, when I was 17-years-old, and is actually my very first IronDad fanfiction ever 😂 So yeah, as I said before, please go easy on me with the characterizations and stuff, I didn't really know what I was doing back then.

Because this was my first ever IronDad fanfiction, Tony is super duper overprotective and Peter acts a lot younger than he really is 😅. I honestly didn't have the heart (or energy) to go back through this whole 5-chaptered fanfic and fix everything, so I hope you enjoy a glimpse into where my writing talent was 3+ years-ago lol.

As always, thank you so much for the support and love and I hope you enjoy this story! 🥰

Disclaimer: I do not own Spider-Man or any related materials.

THIS IS NOT STARKER.

__________

Tony feels them getting lifted, the fabric of the firefighter's rough uniform scratching the raw skin on his arms as the oppressive heat of the flames are extinguished. 

Fighting to regain consciousness, the Billionaire squints his red rimmed eyes open as he is set on a mobile cot, Peter's weight soothing against his chest as he feels his boy tighten his grip on his neck. The teen gasps on a sob when his foot is moved, his tears soaking into the material of Tony's shirt. 

The elder Stark hums quietly, the sound cracking and popping in his throat as the bed starts to slowly move out of the now destroyed bathroom, the wheels kicking up ash and igniting some leftover sparks. The fireman steps on the small flames with his dirty boots on the way out.

With his eyes half-open, Tony can see the night sky appear above them as they are rolled out of the still smoking gas station, the impressive blackness of space getting framed by wisps of smoke, creating a hazy mirage sensation. 

Peter's unruly hair tickles his nose as the spiderling shifts against him, the smell of the fresh night air helping to rise him from his forced slumber.

He whimpers when the cot is carefully rolled down the curb, his wounds getting jostled as they bounce, Tony having to grit his own teeth as his skin burns. Raising on weak hand, the Billionaire cups his child's face, wiping his tears away with his thumb as they slide down. Peter sighs in relief, nuzzling into his father's touch, the red and blue lights of the paramedic team flashing into his closed eyelids as they get closer. 

Tony sees their rescuer slip silently away when they roll to a slow stop, the only reaction he gets to his huffed out "Thank you." being a humble smile and a slight tip of his helmet, before he disappears into the smoking building, his green eyes determined and focused.

". . . -ny! Oh god, Tony! Are you alright? Is Peter okay?"

Lifting his head slightly, the superhero watches with blurry eyes as Happy tries to push closer, the nurses now surrounding them cutting him off, one trying to take him by the arm and pull him away. 

His assistant is having none of it, ripping his arm out of the lady's grip and stumbling closer, gripping the metal edge of the bed in a knuckle white grip. A red soaked bandage is wrapped around his head, some of the liquid slipping from between his eyes and sliding down his face. His right eyes is almost swollen shut, a mass of black and purple bruising forming a ring of pain and puffiness. 

But still he glares at the medical personals, his dark eyes flaring in anger.

"H'ppy, wha' ha'pen'?" Tony asks, his voice croaking and he swallows, throat clicking.

A Stark Contrast To The ExpectedWhere stories live. Discover now