literature

Hugs and Cuddles

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Literature Text

Baby Peter sat in his little cradle. He knew whenever he tried to speak, they wouldn't understand him. They never understood him. Why couldn't they understand him? Peter stared through the skinny wooden bars, staring into the pale darkness of his bedroom. The world around him seemed dead silent, but he knew it wouldn't last forever. So, there he sat… Waiting.

Finally, the first stomps sounded from the room next to his, followed by a door slamming. Peter glanced up, blinking with his paci sticking out from his mouth. He pushed himself onto his wobbling feet, catching onto the bars to keep him steady as he listened.

"Tony, what the hell is your problem?" the toddler heard his poppa shout angrily. "You could have died!"

"Oh, lay off! I did what I had to do!" came his dad's retort. Peter's poppa sounded really upset after that sentence.

"And what about Peter?" he snapped. "Do you want him to grow up without you?"

Peter didn't like this. He didn't like how their voices sounded. He didn't like how angry and annoyed with each other they were. Poppa and Daddy were supposed to be smiling and laughing all the time. They were supposed to be holding him and playing with him and cuddling and not fighting. Peter didn't like this. He let out a soft whine as he plopped down onto his rear. He glanced over his shoulder, his big brown eyes glistening as tears started to form. He let out another whimper, but something at the edge of his cradle caught his attention. Peter crawled on his knees and hands, spotting his Iron Man and Captain America plushies Uncle Clint and Aunt Natasha had given him. He let out a soft cry while reaching out and grabbing them. He sniffled, leaning with his back against the bars and hugging the plushies to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Wahh!" he cried, pushing his cheeks against the dolls' heads, tears slipping down his smooth cheeks. The shouting almost immediately stopped, and silence fell as quick footsteps headed towards Peter's room, following with the door opening and two heads poking in.

"Peter?" Pops whispered, entering the room and spotting his child with his back to him. "Oh, Peter, sweetie… What's wrong?"

Dad followed his husband, standing beside him and peering down at their son. The toddler looked up at them, tears still full in his eyes as he let out a whimper, looking from father to father. Dad suddenly smiled sadly, reaching out and picking up Peter.

"Oh, kiddo, it was just a little fight," he assured, wrapping his arms around the baby in a comforting hug. Poppa smiled and reached out, gently taking Peter into his arms.

"Don't worry, Petey, we won't fight again. We promise," he soothed, pulling him close while Tony leaned in to join the family embrace.

Peter let out a hiccup, his tears finally ending as he smiled softly at his parents. This is what he liked. Hugging. Cuddling. Happy togetherness. Not fighting. Dad grinned.

"Now what do you think about sleeping with Pops and I tonight, huh?" he suggested.

Peter let out a cheerful squeak, and Pops chuckled. The three left Peter's Nursery, and traveled down the hall to all cuddle up in Dad's giant bed. This is what Peter liked. Together… and not alone.
Short little fic I randomly wrote based off of Crazyk-c's post: [link] Just a little Superfamily angst but it was RESTORED asdfghjkl;

Hope you like.

Also, BABY PETER ASDFGHJKL
© 2012 - 2024 Etilevram
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chrycha's avatar
This is so precious :) great work bringing it to life!