Scattered One-Shots

Peter Parker Passing the Fuck Out Part 2: What even are secret identies?

Not edited lmfao

"The— they're gonna blow up the building," Spider-man's voice came out strangled, gasping, terrified. His face, because yes, they'd taken off the mask, was contorted in a sort of pain and fear.

Daredevil was pacing the length of the room, shaking his head to himself. They'd taken Spider-man to Claire's apartment but she wasn't home, so they were on their own. There goes that plan.

Deadpool was crouched next to the couch where spider-man was laid out. "Fuck." He leaned his news back and groaned. "Fuck." He was annoyed at all of this. Together they'd managed to stop the bleeding, but spider-man was still dealing with several broken bones, some shrapnel wounds, a bullet wound that seemed a few days old (but then again he is does have superhuman abilities), and probably a concussion. And by the looks of the sweat dripping down his bloodstained face, a fever too.

"Should we, I don't know, throw him in the tub?" Deadpool asked a few minutes later, noting how the fever was just getting worse.
"She's not answering." Daredevil scowled, putting his phone down.
"Throw him out the window and see if the shock brings him back?" Deadpool jokes.

Daredevil turns. Deadpool holds up his hands, "I'm kidding."

"I can't— I can't—" Spider-man muttered, twisting and turning. "I have to save—..."
Daredevil moved forward. "Help me hold him down, moving makes it worse."  He ordered Deadpool as Spider-man grew more frantic in his delirious sleep. Deadpool didn't agree, moving with Daredevil to hold down Spider-man.
"Jesus Christ I forgot how strong he is." Deadpool exclaimed. "It's almost like the MCU doesn't portray his strength very often."
Between the both of them they managed to pin down his limbs, mostly due to his weakened place.
"Spider-man, calm down." Daredevil said as the hero struggled in his state. Not entirely unconscious, but definitely not lucid.

"If he dies on us, can you imagine how New York would react?" Deadpool said, lifting Spider-man up. Daredevil had run a cold bath, dumped any ice he could find into it. Neither Deadpool nor wade were men of science, so they were kind of just winging it.
"The author doesn't know shit, either. That's why everything has been incredibly vague." Deadpool whispered. Daredevil didn't hear him.
"Just— come on, let's not let it come to that." Matt said, beckoning with his head towards the bathroom. Wade obliged, carrying the incapacitated Spider-man in. The pulled his suit off, leaving Spider-man in just his boxes, and they lifted him into the tub.

Spider-man gasped awake, eyes widening as he did that gasp you get when you get hit with really cold water, and he struggled.
"Hey, hey, easy!" Daredevil said, pushing him back down into the water as he tried to get up and or fight them.
"You're fine!" Deadpool added. "Kind of."
Spider-man settled, and his eyes began to close. "Oh. Okay."
"No no, stay with us." Daredevil snapped. No response.
Wade gave Spider-Man a few taps on the checks, but he didn't respond. "Well those two seconds were worth it." Wade said sarcastically.
"It's... we just need to give him time, I think the water will help." Daredevil sighed.
"Alright. Well I'm going to raid the alcohol. You make sure he doesn't drown in his sleep like a loser." Wade said, walking out. "The author can't be bothered coming up with anything culturally relevant or anything remotely funny, so 'loser' it is."

Peter winced as he came too, feeling his head pounding. He raised his left arm to his forehead and winced at the pain that shoots through him. His fingers find his forehead and he pushes his hair aside, shifting to sit up on the couch.

It takes him a second. Forehead. Hair. No mask. NO MASK.

He flinches, eyes shooting open as he finally realises he's in an unfamiliar place. Vague memories flash in his mind of an explosion, running, and then running into...