Peter Parker One Shots

Peter Parker Gets Annoyed and Kills Some People

“Cool,” Steve said with a small smile. Fury gave him a look. Steve swallowed, smile falling. “Not cool?”

“Not cool, Rogers, considering how many people he has killed. Even Romanov would be appalled. Having said that, I’ve been talking to him, and managed to get him to agree to coming to the mission meeting and meeting all of you before turning it down for sure. Before I bring him in, a warning. He is easily angered, so Stark, no bullshit. He’ll kill you, five seconds flat, idol or not.”

“Why not cuff him?”

“ ‘Why not cuff him’ ,” Fury mocked. “We do cuff him, and put him with five guards, sometimes more. And yet, he still manages to get out of his cuffs, no matter how strong or tight we make them, and you would not believe the amount of sympathy letters I’ve had to write in the last month to families of the guards he’s killed. He can take them down and shoot you, no qualms. So again, no bullshit, Stark.”

Fury turned to everyone else.

“He might get violent, he hasn’t had a kill in a while, makes him antsy. If any of you need to leave the room, please do. I’d rather have to fax the slideshow to you than deal with a Hulk or a panicked soldier. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

“Okay.” Fury turned to the door. “You can bring him in now,” he yelled, and the door opened. Five guards walked in in a circle, someone being shuffled between them. The wall of guards broke, and Tony had to bite back a laugh.

It was a kid, short, sixteen, maybe seventeen. He had a mop of curly brown hair that was just as untamed as his eyes, which were dark pools of energy. His skin was smooth and he had small, barely noticeable freckles on his cheeks, dressed in a simple dark long sleeve sweater and jeans. He was standing stiffly, and his hands were cuffed behind his back, but Tony still noticed the guards holding their hands on their guns. Tony couldn’t blame them. The kid gave off a vibe of “don’t fuck with me because I will not hesitate to torture you for hours and enjoy myself while I do.” No matter how pretty (in the least creepiest way possible) he was, that was strange and offsetting. The kid looked at Fury and smiled, and Tony found himself shuddering at the venom behind the smile.

“Hey, Nicky. Gotta say, your tower is pretty interesting. Also, I’m a little insulted that you thought blindfolding me would help anything. Your guards are dumbasses, too, in case you were curious. All they did with all their turns was familiarize me with the building (Please someone, just one person, please get that reference or I’ll cry). Spacious, by the way. Makes me wonder why my cell isn’t bigger.”
The boy’s voice was smooth, cold, calculated. He knew when and where to accent words when he talked, and everyone in the room was hooked on every syllable that came out of his mouth. Fury scowled at the boy.

“Watch yourself, Parker. You get what you get.”

Fury turned away, and the boy smiled again, knowing he had won that particular argument. He shifted on his feet, and the guards all had their guns out of their holsters in seconds, ready to aim and fire. The kid snorted.

“Wow, jumpy. Would have thought you’d have guards that could read body language, Furious Fury.”

Tony snorted at the nickname, turning to the boy.

“Can I use that? That was actually pretty good.”

The boy smiled, and Tony relaxed a little bit at the lack of hatred in it this time.

“Yeah, sure. You know what really annoys him, though?” Peter took a few steps forwards to Fury, grinning mischievously, his guards shifting uncomfortably. “Fishbowl Fury.”