Spiderman oneshots

43- Ironman waffles

"This place is fancy schamncy, damn."

"Better than the tower, honestly."

"You sure? I don't see an Ironman waffle maker nowhere."

"Spiderman is better anyway."

"I beg your pardon? I'll have you know Spiderman is actually a huge brat-"

Tony's sentence got cut off by a door slamming open. "Yes, he is." the man who stepped through the door said, a grin on his face as he looked down at his two prisoners. For a second, Tony's heart skipped a beat. Did he know about Peter? Well, Peter's alter ego? But his worries were quickly blown away when the man continued.

"But that's not the reason why you two are here," the man spoke, stepping in between the two chairs which Peter and Tony were tied to.

To give some context of the situation: Peter and Tony had basically went out to buy some paint (Tony had already forgotten why the hell they had been getting paint in the first place; maybe for some robot? Yes, that was it! Peter hadn't wanted their robot to stay grey and dull.) when they had gotten ambushed and drugged before being thrown in some vehicle. And then they had awoken in some sort of brightly lit, expensively decorated living room. The two metal, rusty chairs the two were bound two stood out ugly against the rest of the green themed room and the shades of green were, frankly, hideous.

Luckily, Peter had quickly spotted the cameras blinking at them before they could utter a word about Peter's alter ego. Not that Spiderman could be of much help anyway, because Tony was not risking the kid outing his identity and getting himself into even more trouble. Right now it looked like Peter was here by accident; a case of wrong place, wrong time, and Tony would like to keep it that way.

"Then what is the reason, dipshit?" Tony mocked, looking right into the man's cold blue eyes. "You killed my daughter," well wasn't that a buzzkill, "and you're going to pay for it."

"Like, money-wise? Because honestly, your place doesn't look that bad. Speaking of your place: green? Really? I prefer red or gold, but-" A hard backhand to Tony's cheek stopped his ramble - which was rude, really - and he heard Peter yelp as his mentor's head snapped to the side. "Ow." Tony said, tone bone-dry as he watched the kidnapper's face scrunch up in annoyance at Tony's unimpressed response. 

"Did you learn that from your grandma?"

That earned him another hit, to which he rolled his eyes. 

"You better shut your mouth, or do you want the kid's last memories to be of you being an asshole?"

Tony froze as he snapped his mouth shut, glaring at the man. "What do you want?" he hissed, struggling to keep a tremble out of his voice. He glared past the man, at Peter, to see the boy looking at him worriedly with those damn puppy eyes while doing a web shooter motion with his fingers. Tony subtly shook his head, before letting his gaze drift over to their kidnapper again.

"You killed my daughter. She was only 7. She had these beautiful brown eyes, just like her mother, and the most beautiful brown locks. She looked a bit like your kid, really. I think that's why I had some doubts just now. But then you started talking, and I knew that this is what you deserve. You're a bad man, Stark. I wish I could slit your throat, but that's nothing compared to the pain you put me through. You deserve everything I'm about to do to you."

Tony suddenly realized that this wasn't a case of wrong place, wrong time.

-

The man had pulled a needle out of his pocket and plunged it into Peter's neck before the boy could break out of his bonds, and with one last teary, fearful look at Tony, the kid's eyes fluttered shut.