Fan Behaviour - Part 1/2

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Hey everyone- sorry it's been so long! AS level results, uni applications and personal statement things are taking up a LOT of time right now- but I'm sure a lot of you can relate lol. Anyways, without further ado, another one shot :)
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***Peter's POV***
I was stuck. Not just metaphorically stuck in my brain, as I usually was, but actually physically stuck. If I was being honest, it was kind of embarrassing how I'd ended up in this predicament. However, if anyone asked, the reason that I was being held hostage in a crazy stranger's basement was a very badass one. The reason probably involved some daring action to save someone or something. Although the legitimate reason was slightly less heroic.
***Five Hours Earlier***
"God, I am starving." I complained. It was my go-to phrase in the morning because it was normally quickly followed by Steve offering me the first waffle or pancake. "Sit down, Kiddo." Uncle Bucky cleared his throat, almost apprehensively, as he said so. Raising an eyebrow, I took a seat between Natasha and my dad. "So, what's going on?" I asked, trying to keep my tone as light as possible.
"Peter, we wanted to talk to you about something." My dad began as I chewed my lip.
"You're in big trouble." Clint interrupted, almost as if he couldn't help himself.
     Immediately all of my questionable decisions since the age of eight began flashing through my brain. Not unloading the dishwasher? Getting a B in my midterm? Kicking Flash in the shin last week? To be fair, he completely deserved it.
"What did I do?" I asked, not that I particularly wanted the answer.
"When were you going to tell us?" Steve asked, a slight smile hiding behind his usually imperceptible mask. "Tell you what?" I demanded, not exactly sure whether I was in danger of being genuinely scolded or not.
"That you're dating Michelle Jones?!" Natasha burst out.
     I couldn't help but laugh with relief. "Oh, I was going to tell you all eventually." I grinned as my dad whispered something about the ability to impress women running in the genes. "When did it happen?" Clint asked, making pretend kissing faces behind Steve's back.
"I'm late for school." I said with a chuckle, forgetting about breakfast entirely.
"Late for school or late to meet MJ?" Nat teased but I chose to just ignore her.
"I'll text you when I arrive at school. See ya!" I said as I left the room, rolling my eyes.
     Twenty minutes later, I was strolling down Main Street, eyes glued to my phone.
MJ <3 : Hey loser, you're late.
Me : Sorry, MJ, family held me up this morning. I have so much to tell you. They were hilarious.
As I pressed send, I heard a whimpering sound coming from my left.
     Turning my head, I saw a dim side street with the ground covered in litter. The sound hadn't stopped, so, swallowing the rising nerves, I walked towards it. Gingerly peering around the trash can, I saw a puppy resting on the floor.  "Are you ok, boy? What happened?" I questioned gently, bending down to stroke it gently. The whimpering had subsided as it cocked its head to the side.
     All of a sudden, I felt a sharp smack against the side of my head. I collapsed to the ground, black dots filtering into my vision before it all went dark.
     What felt like a few moments later, but what must have been hours, I cracked open my eyes. "Good morning, sleepy-head." A voice mocked as I reached my hand up to touch my wound. Feeling the sticky remnants of dried blood, I fought back nausea. "Who are you? What do you want? Where am I?" I fired off questions at this stranger, but, rather than answers, a sour chuckle was the first response.
"You're quite the curious little fellow, aren't you?"
"I'm not really sure what I'm supposed to say to that." I replied. This situation was absurd. How on earth had I allowed myself to be captured by a man who un-ironically uses words like "fellow"?
     "My family's going to be here any minute." I lied, trying desperately to drink in my surroundings. Definitely a small basement somewhere, nothing too extravagant like the warehouse kidnapping incident last year. "The Avengers?" The man asked, and I could almost detect excitement in his voice.
"My dad's Tony Stark. You know, Iron Man?" I explained, not entirely confident that it would be to any avail.
"Trust me, I know all about him. I know all about your whole family, including you!"
"Ok," I said slowly. "If you're some sort of die-hard fan, I could have set up a meeting, rather than you kidnapping me."
"Enough chit-chat. Your lunch is getting cold, Pete. Wait here, I'll go and fetch it!"
     Rattling my hands, which were attached to a drainpipe by chains, I yelled: "It's not like I can go anywhere! You've tied me up!"
"I know, I didn't want my little pet running away from me, did I?" He replied, his voice sounding almost sing-song, before slamming the basement door and plunging me back into darkness.
     This was going to be a long few hours...

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