#Also this is totally unedited like I didn't even reread it oops

[lyssismagical]

nothing can keep me from loving you

Day 1: “2029, that’s not a real year” / time travel / future au

Mostly just soft fluff 

Waking up to Peter will never get old. He’ll never take it for granted to have Peter in his arms, no matter how many years pass. It’s his favourite thing to wake up, Peter against his chest, curls tickling his chin, warm breaths puffing out against his stomach, cold feet pressed against his calf.

He loves his wonderful fiancé more than he ever thought possible, even if he has to put up with Peter drooling on his chest and stealing his blankets. He’s okay with all of it as long as he gets to wake up with Peter every morning.

One of their phones are ringing on Harley’s nightstand and Peter stirs against his chest, so he answers it as quickly as possible, softly shushing Peter.

“Hi, honey, sorry for the early call, but I was wondering if you were still coming by next weekend?”

“May?” Harley says, voice rough and quiet, not wanting to wake up his fiancé.

He can practically hear May’s smile in her voice. “Harley! Sorry if I woke you, sweetie. How are you?”

“I’m really good, thanks. We’ve got a day off together for the first time in months so we’re probably just spending the day in. And we’re heading out for Queens on Friday afternoon, after Peter’s classes.”

“Good. Tony and Pepper are flying in on Saturday, so Morgan will be here with me when you get here.”

Harley smiles, pressing a kiss to the crown of Peter’s head when he snuffles, one hand curling around Harley’s bicep. “Tell her we miss her a lot, will you? It’s been a while since we’ve made the trip up and I feel a little guilty. She’s doing well, right?”

“She’s doing great, Harley. Don’t worry so much,” May says with a huff of laughter. “For a high schooler, she’s surprisingly happy and well-mannered.”

Peter murmurs something under his breath, shifting again, one foot sliding up to press against the back of Harley’s knee making him shiver at his cold toes. Harley smooths a hand down Peter’s back, trying to soothe him back to sleep.

“How’s it been babysitting a teenager?”

Laughing softly, May’s voice goes nostalgic. “Reminds me of when I was raising a teenager. At least this one doesn’t crawl on ceilings or fight crime.”

Harley barely manages to stifle his laughter fast enough to not startle Peter. “Yeah, I suppose your bar’s pretty low.”

May laughs again. “Yeah, the bar’s all the way on the ground, it’s so low. But don’t think I haven’t talked to your mother about the kind of things you did as a teenager, though… Anyways, I need to get Morgan to school, so I’ll let you go back to your lazy morning plans. It was nice to hear from you.”

“Yeah, you too. I’ll make sure Peter calls you later, yeah? He’ll probably be up soon.” Just as he says that, Peter’s lips smack and his hand tightens around Harley’s bicep, eyes starting to flutter open. “I think he’s waking up if you want to talk to him.”

“No, it’s okay. Just let him know I called? And that I love him?”

Harley smiles softly, rubbing his hand down Peter’s back again. “You got it, May. We’ll see you next week.”

“Bye, Harley. Love you, honey.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

He hangs up the phone and puts it back on the nightstand beside his before turning his attention on his fiancé who’s doe-eyes are blinking up at him.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Harley says, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “May called confirming next week. She says she loves and misses you.”

“Mm,” Peter replies intelligently, freezing toes finding more warm skin at Harley’s ankles.

Harley grins, grabbing Peter’s hand and lifting it to his mouth to kiss the engagement ring that sits around his finger. If he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to waking up next to Peter, he’ll really never get used to knowing Peter’s his fiancé. It’s such a huge difference to the nervous fumbling and hidden relationship from when they were sophomores.

When they first met, the summer after freshman year, when Harley had just moved in with Tony, they weren’t ready to put labels on the kisses they shared when nobody was looking or the late nights they spent in the other’s room, curled close together and hoping FRIDAY wouldn’t tattle.

Harley had grown up in Rose Hill, a blatantly homophobic part of the south, and Peter had grown up being bullied for everything he did, including being bisexual.

They’d learned how to keep their heads down, which battles were worth fighting, how to be the person everybody wanted them to be.

But then in sophomore year, together but without labels and keeping everything a secret, they realized that suddenly they weren’t fighting on their own. They had each other’s back and that made everything different, that made it worth it.

Now, they’re out and proud, and Harley never thinks twice before kissing his boyfriend in public.

Being able to call Peter his fiancé is a dream come true when there was a time he wasn’t even allowed to call him a friend.

“You’re thinkin’ too much,” Peter mumbles, eyes slipping shut again.

“I’m only thinking about how much I love you.” It’s cheesy but the smile on Peter’s face makes every cheesy line worth it. “It’s been almost seven years since we got together.”

Peter smiles sleepily, kissing Harley’s sternum. “Ten years is 2029.”

“2029? That’s not a real year.”

His fiancé lets out a laugh at that, settling just a little bit closer to Harley. “Mm, love you.”

Harley grins, tightening his arm around Peter’s waist. “Love you too, darlin’.”

* They only make it out of bed near noon, letting Peter drift back to sleep a few times, and spending some time murmuring words of affection.

Peter slips on one of Harley’s old hoodies, Rose Hill High printed across the front and Keener on the back, and a pair of sweatpants that have been traded back and forth so many times Harley can’t remember who it first belonged to. He looks so comfy and sweet, hair fluffy and eyes bright, well rested for the first time in a long time.

The apartment’s a bit of a mess.

It’s almost always a mess, despite Peter’s cleanliness. Peter hates it being messy but when they’re only really in the house to sleep most days, in their last year of university, balancing jobs and extra-curriculars, and Spider-Man, they don’t really have the time for cleaning.

But instead of going straight to cleaning, Peter kisses Harley sweetly, corners of his eyes crinkling with how big his smile gets, and sits down at the dining room table.

Their table’s covered in magazines, booklets, and a thick scrapbook. Wedding planning.

“I know we’ve still got five months, but we’ve barely made any progress,” he explains, flipping open their scrapbook.

Harley slips his arms around the back of Peter’s chair, leaning over his shoulder to look at their choices of flowers. “This is our first day off and you want to spend it wedding planning?”

His fiancé pouts, kissing Harley’s bicep where it rests on the hero’s shoulder. “If we don’t do it now, it’s never going to happen.”

And if there’s anything Harley hates in this world, it’s upsetting Peter, even if the pout is mostly a joke. So he kisses Peter’s head, and then makes his way to the kitchen.

He makes coffee for both of them, smiling fondly at his Spider-Man mug and Peter’s World’s Best Brother mug from Morgan. He makes sure to put extra sugar in Peter’s before he takes it back to his fiancé.

“I love you,” Peter says as soon as he’s got the warm mug in his hands. His engagement ring clinks against the side of the mug which makes Harley grin at the little reminder.

Harley lets out a breath, looking over their mess of magazines. But he’s beyond excited to be marrying Peter, no matter how hard wedding planning gets, no matter how much they argue about where everyone will sit or which flowers to use, nothing will make his excitement falter.

“I love you too.”

A soft blush creeps up from Peter’s neck like it does every time Harley says those three words, like every time is a surprise. “I still think Morgan and Abbie should be beside each other.”

Harley rolls his eyes, like he does every single time Peter tries to argue the seating arrangement. “Abbie’s three years older and doesn’t know her that well. We should give her a plus one and put her by Mom.”

Somehow, Peter smiles, reaching under the table to link their pinkies together, rings clinking. “I really love you.”

“My heart will seriously explode if you say that one more time.”

Smile widening, Peter points at the picture of a bouquet of pink lilies and white daisies, amid their three other potential choices. “I think we should do these. A bit more expensive, but fits the theme nicer.”

“Okay,” Harley says because he’d say yes to anything Peter wants.

“I think we did some good work, time for a break?”

Harley rolls his eyes in amusement, purposefully clinking their rings together again under the table. Their apartment, their wedding, their future. He can barely handle how much love grows in his chest, warm and fuzzy and strong. He can’t believe this is all real. He still feels like the lovesick teenager who pushed down all his feelings and quietly crushed from a distance, not believing it was possible. And yet, here they are.

“What do you want to do with our day off?”

Peter opens his mouth to answer, but one of their phones ring from their bedroom. He sighs, offering a wary smile like he knew something like this would happen, an interruption to their peaceful day. They don’t even know what the text is and somehow Peter assumes it’ll hurt their day.

He slips his hand out from Harley’s and disappears back into their bedroom.

Harley starts on finding something for breakfast, even though it’s past noon, and he tries not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“-off. I thought-” Peter sounds aggravated, and his footfalls sounds like he’s pacing. “Don’t- It’s not like that.”

Harley pauses his pancake making, turning his attention towards the phone call with the distress in his fiancé’s voice. He already knows who it is.

Peter got a job at a tech corporation in Boston while finishing his last year at MIT, and it pays really well, it’s the only way they’ll be able to afford their wedding and honeymoon on top of the bills and rent and expenses. But his boss is awful.

No matter how many times Harley tries to convince him to quit and get his old minimum wage job that he enjoyed back, Peter insists that he’d prefer to be treated poorly for another six months if it means being able to have their dream wedding.

“I’m sorry,” Peter murmurs, sounding miserable. “I can’t- I’ve been working unpaid overtime for weeks, Sir. And you’re threatening to fire me because I can’t come in on a random Saturday?”

Harley walks into their room, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s waist from behind. From so close he can hear Peter’s boss’s voice lifting angrily.

“-matter! I’m your boss and I’m already doing plenty by letting you work here despite your ties to people like Stark.”

“I know, I’m sorry, sir. I just- I wanted to spend the day with my fiancé. I’ve been working nonstop for you and I was told I’d get today off.”

Anger sparks in Harley’s chest, protectively tightening his grip around Peter’s waist like it would be enough, when Peter’s voice trembles like he might cry, apologizing for wanting a day to relax.

“Your fiancé?” his boss repeats, letting out a cold, humorless laugh. “You mean-”

“Please don’t go there. Not today,” Peter pleads. He leans his head back on Harley��s shoulder, eyes closing in exasperation.

Harley presses a kiss to his temple, trying to provide any comfort he can.

“I need you in for work today, Parker. Plain and simple.”

Peter’s face falls, knowing he can’t get out of this, he can’t lose the job, can’t say no, can’t beg for at least one day. Instead he falls quiet, pliant. “Yes, sir. I can be there in an hour.”

He says his goodbyes and turns to Harley, slipping his phone into his pocket, eyes wet and lips pouting.

“I’m sorry.”

It reminds Harley plainly of the fights they used to have, the days when they first moved out to Boston together, first had jobs and university and homework and what felt like the world balanced on their shoulders, the days when their relationship was pushed to the backburner and there wasn’t enough care for the days they’d go endlessly without talking to each other.

The fights they used to have where Peter would cry and Harley would shout, equally upset about the nights going to bed alone or unanswered texts or dates stood up. The fights where one of them would leave, find a place to stay for the night instead of home, before they’d makeup in anyway they knew how to, making promises of easier days and solutions.

These were supposed to be the easier days, but it’s not always as simple. Peter has a boss that hates him, who demands him to come into work whenever he pleases, who dismisses their relationship as pretend, as wrong, who calls Peter out and humiliates him in front of coworkers just because he can. But Peter’s always been strong. Always has been resilient to whatever the world throws at him.

“Don’t apologize, honey,” Harley murmurs reassuringly, despite the ache that makes it’s way into his chest, cutting a hole in the warmth that had settled throughout the morning. “I know it’s not your fault. I’m sorry that your boss is the way he is.”

Peter’s bottom lip trembles, shifting on his feet. “I just really wanted to spend the day with you.”

In high school, Harley would’ve immediately jumped at whoever made his boyfriend cry, he got suspended more times than he can count from getting into fights over Peter, but he’s learned that he can’t fight everybody. He can’t keep Peter safe from everything. The most he can do is be here for him.

“We took all of next weekend off, darlin’. And you’ll be home for dinner. It’s not all wasted,” he offers, stepping back into Peter’s space and gently slinging his arms around his hips. “And I’ll say it again, you can quit that job, get another. I don’t mind picking up a few shifts if you want to take a break.”

He shakes his head, like he always does whenever it’s offered. “It’s just another six months until we’ll be moving back to New York and taking over Stark Industries. I can survive another six months.”

“If you’re sure.” Harley kisses his forehead, wishing with everything he has that one day Peter will be able to thrive without things like rude bosses or people glaring or having to apologize for being who he is. “You should get changed and go. No point making him any angrier than he already is.”

“I love you,” Peter says again like he has to make sure Harley knows.

“I love you too, honey. Let me know when you’ll be home and I’ll have dinner ready for you.”

Peter smiles softly, blinking away the film over his eyes, and kissing Harley once more before he steps out of Harley’s arms and prepares himself to leave the house.

* Harley’s nearly asleep when he hears the front door open.

It’s late, he knew it would be when the only time he heard from Peter was a text near four in the afternoon which only contained a sad face.

“Babe?” he calls out, voice hoarse. He blinks blearily, pushing himself up on the couch, and frowning when his stomach rumbles. He wanted to wait to eat until Peter was home.

Peter falls onto the couch with him, immediately hiding his face in the crook of Harley’s neck with a distressed sigh.

“You ‘kay?”

“No,” Peter says, tone joking but obviously not lying. His nose presses against Harley’s pulse point. “My boss sucks, work sucks, Boston sucks.”

Harley wraps an arm around Peter’s waist, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I know it sucks but six months, remember?”

The hero finally relaxes against Harley, smiling softly against his neck. His eyes sweep over the apartment and his mouth falls open, eyes glassy. “You cleaned?”

“I had the day to myself,” Harley says as an explanation. “Figured I should.”

“Thank you.” The poor boy sounds close to tears like it’s impossible to believe Harley would’ve done this for him.

Harley smiles softly and presses his lips to his boyfriend’s temple, mouth moving against his skin when he says, “Yeah, anything for you.”

Six months.

Harley can see it. The bright, glossy future they’ve imagined together.

He can see the two of them, wedding bands, instead of their engagement ones, touching when they lace their fingers together. He can see them in a New York apartment, in Manhattan probably, all huge windows overlooking the city and a balcony with their plants, close enough that they can have dinner with the Starks and May and Happy every Sunday night, chaperoning on Morgan’s field trips to embarrass her, quiet nights together without the worries of bosses or school or responsibilities beyond each other.

He can see their future, exactly how they’ve always dreamed it would be. Running Stark Industries, maybe adopting children in the future, probably a dog, living in New York again, married and happy. And most importantly together.

“I love you.” He knows it’s cheesy and silly just how many times they say it to each other, how much they bask in the words every time they’re uttered, how much they love each other in actions just as much as words. He knows but they both know, all too well, what it feels like to be alone, how much those three words cement the truth in their relationship.

“I love you too.”

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

#lyss writes #parkner week 2020 #parkner #peter parker #harley keener #may parker #this is late oopsies but hopefully i can catch up and it'll be okay #(I say despite taking like triple the amount of time to do the month challenges) #Also this is totally unedited like I didn't even reread it oops #so please just ignore the stupid mistakes lmao #i've been writing a lot of Fiance Parkner lately but I'm kinda okay with it