![]() Peter Parker’s former apprehension from two hours ago has also fled with your hangover. “No, Chef!” He responds, “I am but your humble servant.” “Chef,” You bow, “You’ve outdone yourself.” Then, you and Peter clap in unison, cheering each other and kissing your fingertips in a dramatic flair. The thing wobbles back and forth before settling, stilled by its new support. You cackle, spearing a tiny dill pickle with two welded-together wooden skewers before thrusting it down the middle of the tower. Then, Sam watches in horror as the same finger slides down a few stories of-he doesn’t even know-but then it shoves itself into what looks like a layer of vanilla icing. Peter leans over the side, inspecting the stack and rams his finger into a tomato that threatens to slide out. Sam shrieks when he walks into the kitchen and finds the two of you marveling at the massive creation stacked high over both your heads. It’s a travesty and a miracle and holy fuckin’ like, yoinks, Scoob-it’s real. “You ever watch those old Scooby-Doo cartoons with the subliminal weed messages?” “Hey Pete,” you say, staring dead into his eyes, hangover suddenly absent. He grunts with your weight and starts punching your toes in hopes of getting you off. Peter tries to snatch Tony’s credit card from you, but you’re faster and roll forward until you’re perched both feet on the top of his thighs. He adores you, you know, but in the famous words of Miley Cyrus circa 2010, you can’t be tamed, Bucko. “I can’t be a part of this.” He mutters before making his exit, too.īless his heart, your sweet boyfriend. Give back! He’s gonna kill me!”īucky groans, carefully lifts your head and places you back down onto the cushion. ![]() ![]() You tuck your hand into the pocket of your pajama pants, poke Peter with your big toe, and whack the heavy plastic rectangle against your thigh. Tony stomps out soon after-another twenty-five minutes of grousing where his voice sounds like the parents of those old Charlie Brown movies: wah wah waaaaaah. Peter blushes and sucks noisily on his juice box and the sound of it goes straight into your throbbing eyes. Then he throws a withering look to your feet, placed over Peter’s knee, and shakes his head. Christ, Barnes, will you keep an eye on this menace? Even the fish have been taken away and placed in Tony’s office.įor their safety, Tony hisses with his arms crossed the next morning as you nurse a tremendous hangover, slumped across Bucky’s lap on the couch. Part 3 of DEADCRUSH // Bag of Tricks One-Shots MasterlistĪfter the Terrible Twerkfest at Tony’s party, you and Peter are banned from attending any more tower events unless they are specifically low-key with no governors, elites, outside friends, family members, children, or animals. ![]()
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