Irondad Oneshots

and i can bend your words so they say exactly what hurts the most

(This is short and shitty, it was just an idea I had last night and started writing but haven't really developed into anything yet but I felt bad bcs I haven't been writing as much as I should be so this is messy, don't expect too much oops) 

(Title from Crash by Eden)

(Platonic Soulmates AU) 

*

When Peter was young, the words scrawled across his wrist were comforting because he knew the last words his soulmate would speak to him were seeking comfort. He hoped the last thing he'd do with his soulmate was hug them.

And that was okay.

He never understood the sad, sympathetic looks he'd get from adults. He never really understood that it meant that it was likely he'd be there when his soulmate would die. He never really got it.

Ned's wrist had I'll see you tonight written on it in a bright, shimmering pink. It was scary to think he'd say goodbye to his soulmate and they'd never make it home. That seemed much scarier than Peter's.

Hold me written across his wrist in a rich red, scrawled in an almost cursive font.

It didn't scare him as much as it should've.

*

Tony glares at the blue swirling writing on his wrist. He's hated it since he first understood what it meant. It wasn't fair. It wasn't okay.

I'm sorry.

Why would the last words his soulmate says to him be I'm sorry? How cruel is that?

Pepper got I love you. Rhodey got Bread which was always funny to them. Happy got I'll be home before you know it.

And Tony got I'm sorry. Of course he did. He shouldn't even be surprised, should he? Of course his soulmate would be apologizing to him, of course Tony must fuck up that badly.

He glares at the writing, wishing it would just disappear. The sapphire blue glinting a little in the lights from the lab in response, refusing to fade away.

*

Tony knows the moment Peter fucking Parker walks into his apartment, backpack slung over his shoulder and dumpster-stolen piece of retro tech under his arm, rambling about a fancy car outside the apartment, he's done for. The words on his arm tingling as though it somehow knows too.

"Oh, Mister Parker," he says like his whole world isn't crumbling around him because his soulmate is a dumbass fourteen-year-old.

He's heard about platonic soulmates, a family soulmate, he's heard about twins being soulmates before. It doesn't have to be romantic or sexual, it just normally is. Guess Tony doesn't get normal.

It doesn't help that the last thing Peter Parker will say to him is going to be I'm Sorry. Tony already knows it's going to crush him.

*

"I can't lose the kid," Tony admits. He keeps his voice carefully quiet, so he doesn't wake the dozing spider-baby curled up against him.

Rhodey offers a sad smile. "I know."

Tony runs his thumb over the swirling red words on Peter's wrist. Hold me. When he first saw it, he didn't believe it was him. Why would he, someone who's very closed-off, want someone to hold him in his last moments? But now, he can barely go a day without his Peter hugs.

If it's Peter who dies, it's going to kill Tony too. He's come to terms with it and he's going to do everything in his power to protect his kid.

*

He should've seen this coming.

I'm sorry.

He glares at the words on his wrist, no more colour to it, just a greyish white standing out against the red of the planet and the dust on his hands.

I'm sorry.

Peter said it. This is it.

He's gone.

*

Seeing Morgan's light-hearted I love you just like her mom's, written a rich purple on her pale skin, makes Tony's faded scar of a soulmate mark look worse, makes him hate it so much more.

Because he lost his kid. His soulmate.

Some people say losing your soulmate is the worst thing someone could go through.

Some people say losing your kid is the worst.

Tony lost both.

*

Peter falls to his knees, dust settling around them as he reaches out, hands grasping the suit. His soulmate mark already fading on his wrist.

Hold me, Tony had said out on the battlefield. Peter should've known. He just hoped against all hope that it would be fine. That Tony wouldn't die here. Not now, not when Peter just got back.

But Tony's lying in front of him, eyes glazed and unfocused, not even looking at Peter, arm burned, the smell of burnt flesh almost too strong for Peter to handle.

He can't help but notice the greyish I'm sorry flickering towards a brighter blue again on Tony's burned wrist, barely brighter than the blackened flesh.

He can't say it again, he can't. If he says it, he'll make it real.

Pepper's hands are on his shoulder, trying to gently coax him away from his soulmates body, but he won't budge, fingers curling into the collar of the suit, helmet missing.

The ache in his wrist from the fading soulmate mark, the gentle hands at his shoulders, Rhodey not far behind. His head falls forward, forehead against the arc reactor as a sob escapes his throat.

He only just got back; he can't lose Tony. He can't.

He failed. He should've gotten the gauntlet to the van like he was asked to. He should've fought harder. He should've been the one to snap. He should've-

I'm sorry.

He says it before he can stop himself and the blue is fading on Tony's wrist, the red flickering out on Peter's, and he screams, hoarse and broken. Wordless, just a pained, empty scream, muffled by Tony's suit beneath his head.

The hands pull at his shoulder a little more insistently and he says it again and again and again like he's a broken record, stuck repeating the words he wished he never had to say.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He's pulled away from Tony, even as his hands reach to keep contact before they eventually fall limp to his side, tugged into a cold embrace, Rhodey's suit arms wrapping around his waist, probably to keep him from falling again.

And he keeps saying it because he doesn't know what else to say.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm-

He passes out.

*

Hold me is white like a healed scar.

Peter fears the emotional scar will never heal.

____
sorry this is shitty I might make it into something better in the future, I just wanted to write something for yall even if it isn't as long/good as I normally try to make them (I have so many requests and ideas and things I've started and so much planned, I just haven't yet. A weird limbo state. An in between projects state. Very strange. Spacey.) 

Hope yall are doing good though 

Lyss