#ya done messed up Ned | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

twjournals · 3 years

Text

What's Wrong is Right

This is the sequel to So Wrong It's Right.

The finale: The Right Place

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, age gap BUT BOTH CHARACTERS ARE OF AGE, DUB-NON, pregnancy, mentions of abortion

PLEASE READ MY WARNING BEFORE CONTINUING. I am not responsible for your media consumption. Any and ALL negativity will be blocked. The majority of my content is 18+.

Word Count: 7k

Summary: You’re an old troubled friend of May’s. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you’re knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Things could not have felt any better than they did right now. You were still sound asleep beside him on the bed. You were so peaceful when you sleep, so perfect. Even with your hair a mess and what was left of your make-up on your face Peter still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world.

As much as he could sleep, he did not want to miss a second of you. He longed to touch you again, to kiss you awake and go another round or two. He could stay the whole day in bed with you if you would let him. The thought of you coming undone underneath him replayed in his mind and his cock twitched in response. He needed to calm himself down, but that felt nearly impossible around you. The only thing stopping him was the fact he knew you needed the rest.

Peter laid on his side, taking in the sight of you. He could not understand how guys would use you the way they do, how they could hurt you and be okay with it. He could not understand the type of guys you went after either. They were all the same. It was almost like you were signing yourself up to get hurt. Peter just wanted to take all that pain away. He wanted to be the guy you needed. He was the guy you needed.

He let a sigh before pressing a warm kiss to your head. Sleep had finally won the battle. He let his eyes fall shut as his arms held your sleeping figure close. If only he could fall asleep like this every night.

When you awoke, the sun was shining bright the small cracks in your blinds, and seemed even brighter than usual considering your hangover. You rub your head as it ached. If there was one thing you did not miss about drinking, it was this.

You froze still when you felt the grasp around your body grow a little snugger. You were scared to see who was in bed with you. You tried to think for a moment, thinking back to last night. It was such a faint memory, a blur. Could it have been your ex? There was no way. Even drunk, you would not have fallen into that trap. You peaked over your shoulder, instant regrets washing over you. What had you done? You were in fact naked so there was no doubt what you had done last night.

May was going to kill you.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand beside you as if on queue and you glanced over at it. Oh my god, May! You were dead. Your heart was beating so hard it could have beat out of your chest. You were panicking. You carefully eased out of Peter's grasp to keep from waking him, resting his arm back on the bed. You grabbed a big shirt you had still laying on your floor and a pair of underwear from your dresser before hurrying out the door, closing it behind you.

You tugged your shirt in a hurry before you answered it on the final ring. "Hello?" You tried to play it cool, holding your phone against your ear with your shoulder as you pulled your panties up your legs.

"Good morning sunshine. How are you feeling?" She greeted you.

You started down the hallway to the kitchen. You would feel the aching of your core with every step you took. "Tired." You admitted, moving behind the counter to start a pot of coffee.

"I bet. You needed last night though with everything going on." You bit your bottom lip.

You could not agree more, but you wondered to yourself just much of it as actually needed. You leaned against the counter, watching the drip of the coffee as it filled the pot. "You're not wrong."

She laughed slightly. "I'm just glad Peter could take you home. I always get nervous when you go home with random strangers." Your teeth sunk further into your bottom lip. "Speaking of Peter, do you know where he is?" Your heart was beating so out of control, you were surprised it wasn’t a heart attack in the making. The thought of losing May as your friend after these years, especially over something as big as this, it pained you.

You had to think and think fast. "I think he mentioned something about going to Ned's. I’m not entirely sure though.” You reached into the cupboard to retrieve a mug. "He probably stayed the night." You lied, trying to control your breathing as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You prayed to yourself in hopes that your lie would be enough. Or what if she already knew Peter was still at your apartment? No, no, she could not have, not sounding this collected.

"I should have guessed that. I'll try to call him again later." She sighed. "I just worry about him sometimes."

"I'm sure he's fine. He's not a kid anymore, May." You reminded her, though a part of you felt like it was a reminder to you as well. If he had not have been who he was, maybe this all would have been a different situation but not when your friendship was on the line.

"I know, I know. It's just the Aunt in me I suppose"

You mixed in your cream and sugar and stirred. "It's Peter and Ned we're talking about, May. They were probably up playing video games all night."

"You're right." She finally admitted. "Well, I'm sorry for waking you. I just wanted to check on you."

"No worries. Let me know when you hear from him." She agreed before you ended the phone call with a goodbye.

You finally let out a deep breath of air. It felt like you had been holding it the entire time you were on the phone. It would not have surprised you if you had. You did not know where to start or how to make it all make sense. Maybe that was because none of this made sense. Peter could not be anymore more than a friend, especially when he was your best friend's nephew.

How had this even got this far? You had never thought of Peter like this and yet you ended up in bed with him. You held the mug, letting it warm your hands as you stared down at your coffee in thought. Peter had been nothing but good to you, but this had been more than you could have asked for. There was a hole in your heart from another man and you had pushed yourself on Peter last night to try and heal it. That’s what you had made yourself believe. You took had taken advantage of his kindness, took things too far and now you had to get things back in one piece.

This was nothing like the hookups you had in the past. This was Peter. It was not like you would never see him around again. It was not like you could just throw him out and be done with it.

You jumped instantly when Peter's voice pulled you from your thoughts. You pushed yourself off of the counter, taking in the sight of him as he moved across the kitchen over to you.

“Good morning.” He smiled and you glanced at his messy hair sticking up in different directions. It was the perfect mix of bed head and sex hair.

“Hi.” You said shyly. How would you break the news to him? God, how could you get yourself in this situation?

“I was looking forward to waking up to you.” He moved over to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as if this were all normal and pressing a kiss to your jaw. Your eyes met his curiously. What was he thinking this was?

“Peter, I think- I think we need to talk.”

Your breathing was shuttered as he held onto your waist, nudging his nose against your neck.

“Oh? What about?” He looks down at you.

Your free hand was pressed against his chest with a sigh. “Did you want some coffee?” You offered.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment as if he was trying to figure out what you were thinking before letting go of your waist. “No, thank you. Is everything okay?” He tilted his head slightly. You seemed nervous.

You took a hold of his hand, placing your mug down on the counter before leading him into the living room. You brought him over to the couch, sitting down. “So last night… can you tell me what happened? I know we had, ya know, but how?”

His face grew pink with a slight blush. “How?” He repeated your question.

“I mean, did I make you? I know I can be a bit much when I drink.”

“What? No.” He shook his head. “I mean it surprised me, but of course, I wanted you. I’ve always wanted you.”

You grew quiet, trying to process what he was saying. You sighed. "Peter, I-" I tried to gather your thoughts together. "It should have never happened and I'm sorry that it did."

Peter's eyes grew wide as he tried to take in what you were saying, but he could not bring himself around to believe you.

"No. You don't mean that." He shook his head.

You frowned. "I do mean that."

He shook his head again. "You don't. You told me I was good to you. You even said before you hope you meet someone even half amazing as me."

"Peter-"

"You kissed me! How can you say this should have never happened?"

You run your fingers through your knotted hair and pushing it back out of your face with a sigh. "Peter, I was drunk. I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Drunk words are sober thoughts. Even if you hadn't meant to say it, I know you have been thinking about it." He frowned, taking a hold of your chin and tilting your head to look at him. "Why can't you let just accept how you feel? You deserve to be happy."

You turned your head out of his grasp. "That's just it, Peter. I don't know what I'm feeling about anything. I just had my heart broken a week ago by a guy who I thought was my soulmate. I wasn't ready for any of this to happen. I'm sorry I kissed you and confused you."

He could not believe you were saying this. You could not mean this. Not after last night. Not after the word you clung to him. Not after everything you said. It hurt his feelings. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words would not come. He was not sure what to say. He did not want to overstep, but he could not understand how you could easily fall for assholes like Chris and never a good guy like him.

"You are good to me." You admit. "You have taken good care of me in the past, but we can't be anything more than friends. We can't do this again. I feel like I have overstepped a line with May. She wouldn't want this."

"It's not about what she wants." He snaps. "I can make my decisions for myself now. I'm not a kid anymore, Y/N."

"Peter, you will always be a kid to me. You can do so much better than me. Someone closer to your age. Someone who has their life together. You are such a great guy. I know you will make some girl very happy." You smiled reassuringly, though to him none of this was reassuring.

There was no "better than you", even when he was committed to you. He tried to understand that feeling was new to you considering you always felt in competition with other girls. Truth be told, no one came close to comparing to you in his eyes. He wished he could make you see that, make you understand just how much you really meant to him.

He could feel his phone vibrating again and he sighed, standing up from the couch. He knew it was May. "I should go before Happy sends out a search party."

You stared up at him, nodding slightly. "I understand."

He threw his hand up in an awkward wave before making his way to the door.

You stood up from the couch, hugging yourself. "Hey, Peter?"

He stopped at the door, holding it open and looking over his shoulder at you.

"I don't want this to ruin our friendship." It could never. You just needed time, he thought to himself.

"It won't." He smiled at you. "I promise."

---

Even though you did not want it to affect your friendship with Peter, you both knew that it had, for better or for worse. You did not see much of Peter after he left your apartment that day, even when you would go see May, the house was already quiet. Neither of you had mentioned a word to May. Peter was always out or on his way out when you showed up. You would only really had time for a quick "hey" before he was on his way. You figured college had him pretty busy for the most part, or Ned, maybe even a girl.

He had properly busied him in hopes to give you space. In hopes, you would realize things on your own and do the right thing. He may have been between college and keeping an eye on the neighborhood, but he never strayed far from you. He never failed to keep an eye out on you. Peter knew how much you needed him, but it was your turn to realize that for yourself.

Peter wasn't the only one keeping himself busy. After some time you had taken off, you finally had gone back to work. In a way, you were glad you had because it kept you distracted. You had decided it was time to focus on yourself.

You had stopped drinking since the night at the club after realizing the trouble it putting you in and the pain it was actually causing you. Drinking did not stop the heartbreak. It might have slowed it down, but when you were sober again, the ache was still there. Drinking kept you from dealing with it. As much as you wished you did not have to, you knew it was the only way for you to move on.

It had been a month since you split with Chris. Thankfully, you were starting to get back in the groove of things fairly quickly.

You sat at your desk, typing away on your computer when your phone buzzed on your desk. You did not look away from your work until a knock on the window of your office door caught your attention.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Chris on the other side. He lifted his phone, mouthing for you to check it.

You lifted your phone over to check, reading the text from him.

Can we talk?

You blinked, glancing at him before turning back to your computer to keep working.

Your phone buzzed again.

Please.

You looked up at him again. He had his hands together in a plead while he mouthed "please". You sighed, getting up from your desk to answer the door. You pulled the door open and he smiled slightly though you had not attempted to return it.

"I don't know if you've noticed, but I am working." You blunted pointed out.

"I know. I'm sorry for bothering you. I just knew you wouldn't answer my messages. That's the only reason I'm here. I feel like I've had a lot of time to think and I want to talk to you about things."

"Once again, I'm at work." You reminded him.

"When is your lunch then?" He questioned.

You held onto the door. "I don't think I'm gonna take one. I have a lot I need to get done."

He sighed, looking down at you. "Come on. I know you've gotta be hungry." He glanced at his phone to check the time. "Don't you usually take your lunch around this time?"

You tried to stand your ground even though your stomach growled in hunger. You hated when he was right. You hated to give him anything he wanted after how he did you. It amazed you he had remembered what time you took your lunch. Maybe he did pay attention to you after all.

"I'll pay." He insisted. You sighed.

"Fine. Let me get my bag."

You had agreed on a sandwich shop just down the street. You were not in the mood for anything big. You settled down at a table by the window with a wrap and iced water. You took a bite of your wrap, staring out the window at all the traffic on the road.

He was the first to break the silence. "How have you been?"

"Fine. You?" You continued eating, taking another bite.

He had yet to touch his own food. "I've been alright. Can I say something or do you think I am wasting my time?"

"Depends."

"Can you hear me out? Just this once, that’s all I ask."

You sighed, finally agreeing to listen since he had after all bought you food. You sat the rest of your wrap down washing it down with some water while listening.

He sat in silence for a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to figure out where he should start. “I’m sorry for what I did to you and for how I treated you. Nothing I say is gonna take back what I did, but I do regret it all. I know I said some ugly stuff at the club that day. Once again, I know I can’t justify it but I had been drinking and I was coping with losing you. I get that I ruined things. I messed up and you have every right to be mad at me. I was selfish and I never took your feelings into consideration. I didn't think to help you with the wedding because I thought of it as your big day. When it should have been our big day." He leaned against the table, crossing his arms. You pulled your gaze from the window, looking at him for a moment before looking down at your lap. "I missed how spontaneous we use to be. Every day was a surprise. You amazed me every day, but we fell into a routine and I was worried about marriage might be like that." It shocked you that he was even apologizing right now.

"You were so calm when you did it though. Like it was okay for me to see that like you wanted to hurt me." You broke your silence, your eyes finding his and he frowned.

He exhaled a deep breath. "I didn't wanna hurt you. I guess I had convinced myself I had done nothing wrong, but I realize now how bad of a thing I did."

"You could have just talked to me about this before you went and made me feel like I couldn't be enough. We could have put the wedding on hold and fixed this. Sometimes I get carried away with things. I just- I wanted everything to be perfect. I didn't know what you wanted and so I was working twice as hard to get everything to be how I thought you might like it." You wrapped your wrap back up when you lost your appetite. "I think the realization of everything hurt more than walking in on you. Realizing how much I was doing and how little you did-"

"I know and I want to fix that. I want to do more for you and for us. I want to prove to you I can change. We've invested so many years in this. I don't want to throw it all away. I didn't realize how much I needed you until I didn't have you." He reached across the table, taking a hold of your hand and he rubbed his thumb across the back of your hand. It surprised him how didn't pull your hand away and that's how he knew he might have convinced you. He might have a shot again. "If you really are through with me, I do not blame you. I deserve that. Just tell me when and I'll come to get my stuff."

You sat in silence for a moment, thinking to yourself. You were not sure what to say. You never thought he would get this far with his apology. You did not expect him to apologize considering he seemed pretty pleased with himself.

"I don't know what to say right now." You mumbled, looking down at his hand holding onto yours.

He held your smaller hand in between his. "You don't have to say anything. Just think about it. I respect whatever you decide. I just want to know if I have really lost you for good."

"I don't know." You finally admitted, biting your bottom lip slightly and gently taking your hand back from his hold. "I need time."

"Take all the time you need." He ensured.

"We'll see." You glanced at your phone, checking the time. "Thank you for lunch, but I should really be headed back."

He nodded his head, gathering his still wrapped sandwich and drink as you both get up from the table. "I'll walk you back."

The rest of your workday felt like a waste considering you could not focus on anything. You did not get done much of anything you had planned to get done. Why did guys have to make things so complicated? If he had just communicated about it before, maybe you would still be together.

You tried to focus on the computer screen in front of you, letting your fingers hover over the keyboard. Focus, Y/n.

You knew you should not want him back. You did not owe him a thing. You knew there would always be the risk he had not actually changed, but he was all you knew. You grew to him. Your life had changed for your future with him. You had been so wrapped up in the wedding, you had not been paying attention to him. But then again, if he had helped, participated in his own wedding plans then so much would not have been on you.

You rubbed your temple, saving your progress and shutting off the computer screen. You were just gonna call it a night. You had a girls' night planned with May and you did not want this to get in the way of your friendship with May again.

You reached into your pocket to collect yourself, shooting May a quick text.

We're still on for tonight, right?

You gathered your papers off of your desk, shuffling them up neatly before pulling them back in its folder and putting them in the drawer of your desk.

Don't be late.

You smiled at her message before pulling open the door to your office.

You had kept your word to May and showed at a decent time. She was setting up for movie night when you arrived. She tsked when she saw how overdressed you were.

"If I had stopped for a change of clothes, I would have been late." You reminded her with a laugh as she entered the living room again with a bottle of wine and a bowl of popcorn. She placed them on the coffee table in front of her.

"You're welcome to grab some clothes of mine." She offered as she sat down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her and covering herself with a blanket.

You had already stripped yourself from your blazer as you walked down the hallway to May's room. You grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt from her dresser before going to the bathroom to change out of your pencil skirt and blouse.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you changed the set of clothes. Your eyes were glued to your stomach, noticing how bloated you looked and frowning slightly. You knew your period would be any day now, but usually, you did not bloat this bad. Your clothes had seemed a little snug today. You shook the thought as you fold your clothes and set them up on the bathroom counter. Your head spinning from everything going. Just when you had thought things were calm, it picked right back up. You left the bathroom, walking towards the living room where May was.

"Hey, Aunt Ma-" Peter called out as he came out of his bedroom, knocking into you in the process. He quickly grabbed a hold of your waist to keep you falling. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" He started to rumble.

"It's fine. I'm okay." You laughed quietly, making him smile suddenly when his eyes finally met yours. "You wouldn't happen to be avoiding me, would you?" You tease. You understand even if he was, but you had hoped that he was not avoiding you. You did not want to be the reason driving him out of his own home.

He blushed slightly. "Just giving you some space." He told the truth. You hadn't realized how close you two still were.

"I don't need space, Peter. We're okay." Your eyes flickered across his face for a moment, biting down on your bottom lip when you noticed how close he was still holding you. "Peter-"

"Y/n, are you coming? The movie is about to start!" May called out from her spot on the couch. She had already poured you both a glass of wine.

"Did you want to join us?" You question absentmindedly. He smiled at your words. Maybe you were coming around after all.

"I might later. I have some work I need to finish up." He answered, letting go of his grasp on your waist. You nodded before giving him one last look and continuing down the hallway back to May.

You were halfway through the movie when you turned to May, snacking on a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl that sat between the two of you. "So the weirdest thing happened at work today." You started, pulling her attention from the movie. "Chris showed up."

May turned down the movie a little in order to hear you better. Her eyes were slightly wide and you laughed a little at her reaction. "That was my reaction as well." You pointed out.

"Well? What happened? What did he say?" She encouraged you to continue.

Peter had just come out of his room just in time to get a snack along with something to drink. He had been finishing an assignment. He took his earbuds out one by one, hearing you in the living room as he walked through the kitchen.

"Well, he took me to lunch, and basically he apologized for everything. He wants a second chance."

Peter's eyes grew wide, listening to you talk. You did not have to say his name to know who you were talking about. He peaked in the living room at you and Aunt May on the couch, leaning against the wall as he listened in.

"And?"

You shrugged.

"I'm surprised you even let him take you out." May pointed out as she took a sip of her wine.

"Honestly, it surprised me too but I was hungry and he offered to pay so I gave in." You rubbed your arm slightly as you leaned back on the couch.

"So what's the plan?"

You looked over at May, raising an eyebrow curiously. "Plan?"

"Well I mean, what did you say to him?"

You got quiet for a moment. Peter felt as if he was holding his breath just to make sure he heard your answer correctly.

"I told him I would think about it."

May seemed surprised by your answer. Peter, on the other hand, was less than pleased.

"He's all I know. I'm comfortable with him. I don't know how to start over and at this point, it seems pointless." You explained as you picked at the blanket over your lap. "He said he didn't wanna give up when we have invested so much time and that he was willing to prove himself."

"Maybe he needed this. Ya know, like a reality check." May suggested and you nodded your head.

Peter could not believe you were going back. You were giving up. After everything he put through, everything he said, and how worthless he had you feel, you were going back. Had you not learned anything? His fists clenched at his side, trying to keep himself calm. He could not listen to another second of this.

He stormed past you and May. "Hey, Pete-" May started, but Peter swiftly interrupted her.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up." He mumbled. Your heart skipped, realizing that Peter had heard everything. You were so sure he had been in his room. He glanced at you before pulling the door closed harder than usual, making the both of you jump. You frowned, looking down.

Peter sat on top of a roof, leaning against a brick wall as he looked down over the city. He did not know what else he could do to prove himself to you. He finally had his chance and you only pushed him away. Chris had years to prove himself and he had. He made his intentions pretty clear, but even that wasn't enough to steer you away.

He was convinced you were scared to be happy. Scared to find that happiness with him when his Aunt was your best friend. Sure you were a little older, but none of that mattered to him. You were the only girl who could ever make him feel the way he did. It could not just be him feeling this way.

The streets were not as busy due to it being so late. Peter closed his eyes with a sigh from the built-up frustration, letting his leg hang over the side of the building. You were so stubborn.

His eyes snapped open at the roar of laughter beneath him. He glanced at the group of men before quickly having to do a double-take when he realized who it was.

"Come on, Chris. Admit it, you have Y/n wrapped your finger." The men shared a laugh, giving Chris's shoulder a playful push.

"Not like I use to, but I know she'll take me back." He chuckled. "She's waited long enough for that ring. She's not gonna give up now."

"You really think you're ready for marriage? What about the other girl?"

"Guess we'll see about that," Chris smirked and Peter's nose flared in anger. "Women like Y/n just need a ring and they're content. Besides, she's the perfect little housewife."

Peter tried to restrain him, but he could only hold himself back so much. He shot a web at Chris which hitting him over the mouth, sending him and his group in a panic trying to pull it off of his face with no luck.

"Dick." He muttered, shooting a web at another building and pulling himself onto the next building. He had enough. Chris didn't deserve someone like you. You deserved someone to take care of you, to cherish you, not just the other way around.

You stared down at the test in your hand. You never expected to find yourself here this soon. It was not long after Peter stormed out that you decided you should go home. You were upset with yourself and with everything going on. This was just the icing on the cake. You mindlessly walked by the calendar in the kitchen on your way to the bedroom, counting the days since your last period. You were late and at this point in your life, you could not ignore it.

The positive plus sign stared back at you and your eyes watered. You had not had sex with Chris in months so you knew it was Peter's. You covered your mouth, letting out a sob into your hand. This was not how you pictured yourself getting pregnant. This was not where you wanted to be in life when you planned on getting pregnant. You were barely making it taking care of yourself. You could not take care of a baby too.

Your body shook as you cried at the foot of your bed. You knew with the baby being Peter's, Chris would never want to be with you. Peter was just starting his life, barely even out of college along with being the Amazing Spiderman. You could not interfere with a baby.

A knock on your bedroom window startled you, making you drop the test. You looked the window to find Spiderman kneeled down on your fire escape, motioning for you to let him in.

You wiped your face of your tears and walked over to the window, unlocking it before pushing it up.

"Now isn't a good time, Peter." You stated bluntly, taking in the sight of him in his suit.

"I really need to talk to you, Y/N. It's important."

"Can we not talk about this another day?"

"No, it can't wait." He slipped under your arm into your bedroom, pulling his mask from over his face. "It's about Chris."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. "What about him?"

"He doesn't love you, Y/n. He will never care about you like you have cared about him. He is just using him as a housewife and that's all you'll be to him. Just someone to take care of him. You deserve so much than him." Peter paced back and forth as he ranted.

You stared at him as he paced. "That's what you came here to tell me? I know you heard me talking to May. I should have known you would come up with some way to make me feel like shit for thinking about going back."

"Y/n, I didn-"

"You did! You don't get it! It's my heart that was broken. I have loved him for years. You don't understand how hard this is for me."

"I don't understand?" His mouth parted at your words. You didn't know half of it. "How do I not when I have loved you years longer than he's been in your life? Even when you loved everyone but me! You fall for assholes like him and the good guys like me go overlooked!" He exclaimed, throwing his hand up as he shifted back, his foot stepping on the test you had dropped on the floor.

He glanced down to see what he had stepped on.

Your eyes got wide, trying to get his attention. "Peter." You stepped toward him but it was too late. He stared down at the pregnancy test, wiping his thumb over the plus sign as if checking to see if it was real.

He looked up at you. "You're pregnant?"

It was too late to lie about it. It would have required too much energy to keep it going if you had, and you did not have any fight left in you.

"How far?" He simply questioned. He was so sure it was his, but he wanted to hear it from you.

"If you're asking if it's yours, I can assure you it is. I haven't slept with Chris in months. I don't know how far I am. A few weeks is my guess."

He stared at the test a little while longer, a smiling forming on his lips. "We're gonna have a baby." He smiled at the test. He couldn't help himself. This had to be the best news he had heard in his life aside from becoming an Avenger.

"No." You shook your head.

He furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at you. "What?"

You moved over to him, taking the test from him and tossing it on your dresser with a sigh. "I can't keep the baby."

He frowned at your words. "Sure you can. What do you mean?"

You shook your head again, your eyes already getting watery again. "I can't, Peter. I'm not ready to be a mom. My life is a fucking train wreck and you're just now starting yours. I can't ruin that for you."

"Ruin? No, no." His frown deepened, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his arms for comfort. "This is the best news I've heard. This could never ruin my life."

You cried against his shoulder, clenching onto his suit as he held you close in a hug. He pressed a kiss to your temple, stroking your hair down. "I'll do everything I can to keep you and our baby happy. You will never have to worry about another woman because no matter what, I will always choose you. I'll take care of you." He let his hand slide underneath your shirt, rubbing his hand over rounding stomach. "I'll take care of our baby."

You push his hand away out of your shirt, pushing yourself away from him. "I-I can't. I'm not keeping the baby. I'm gonna go to the clinic tomorrow. It'll be better this way."

Peter's mouth fell open slightly as his eyes filled with tears. "Y-You can't be serious."

"I am and nothing is going to change my mind."

"Y/n..." He reached up to cup your face, but you grabbed his wrist. "That's our baby. Don't do this."

You stared at him with tear-filled eyes, some falling down your face, but you didn't speak a word.

He was getting heated by the second. If he thought he was hurt before, he was really hurting now. He didn't understand why you wouldn't take this as your fate and run with it. Run with him. Tears fell down his cheeks. He didn't bother to wipe them, only continued to look at you. He wanted the truth.

"Why? So you can go back to him?"

"This isn't about him."

"Then what is it about, Y/n? You want to get rid of a part of both of us! Can't you see how much I care about you? I would never hurt you like him. You don't have to change yourself to please me. You will never have to worry about not being enough." He moved closer to you, cupping your face in his hands and making you look at him. "You are so perfect, just the way you are. You are more than enough for me."

You try to turn your head to look away, but he leans in, capturing you in a firm passionate kiss. You melted into his kiss, gripping onto his suit. You wanted so badly to push him away, but you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You didn't want him to change your mind. You needed to do this.

He backed you up until your back of your knees hit the bed, letting you fall back on the comforter and falling with you. He supported himself above you, kissing your swollen lips softly as he wipes your face with a swipe of his thumbs.

"You are everything I have ever wanted." He mumbled against your lips, pressing warm kisses over your face and letting them trail down your neck. His hands began to push your shirt up and you quickly regained some focus, trying to catch his hands.

"Peter, we shouldn't..." He caught your hands and pushing them over your head, shooting a web against your wrists to hold them in place against the headboard. You cried as you looked up at him with frightened eyes.

"You don't have to do anything for me. Just let me show you how much I love you. Let me take care of you."

He pressed on his chest, letting his suit go limp on his body and sliding it off as he continued to work his way down your chest. He was left in his boxers. He had pressed your shirt up above your chest, kissing over your breasts and swirling his tongue over your aching nipples.

You whined at the feeling of his tongue, pulling on the webbed restraints. Your nipples were more sensitive than they had ever been before. His hands feel to the shorts you still wear of May's, pulling them down your legs with your panties.

"Peter, stop..." You tried to close your legs but Peter only held them open at the sight of your slick folds. You knew no matter how much you lied to him, your body could never lie to him. Your body only told the truth.

"I want to make you so happy." His lips brushing over your lower bloated stomach, kissing over it and mumbling against it. "You're going to make such an amazing mother."

You shook your head as you wiggled underneath his body. He pushed off his boxers before returning to his place between your legs.

He nodded even when you shook your head. "You will be."

Peter dragged the tip of his cock through your glistening folds, biting his bottom lip as your juices coated it. He let the tip of his cock push against your entrance, pushing his hips forward to slide inside of you and your head rolled back with a whimper.

You hated how much control he really had over you. You hated feeling so weak.

"Peter-" You choked a sob as your walls clenched onto his thick length. You were embarrassed how quickly your pussy pulled him back in when he would thrust.

"Oh," He groaned as his cock pushing in and out of you, hitting you in all the right places as he held your hips in his hands. "I love you. I love you so much." He mumbled against your lips as they brushed together every thrust. His breathing was staggered against them.

You could not fight the lust that clouded your mind. He knew it would take time to steer you in the right direction, but he was willing to spend all the time he needed. You knew how wrong it was to be underneath him, even if you were stuck there, that did not stop what was wrong from feeling so right.

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman x reader #dark!spiderman x reader #dark!spiderman #dark!tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker one shot #dub con #peter parker smut #dark peter x reader

494 notes · View notes

house-of-slayterr · 2 years

Text

Spider-Man No Way Home (spoilers)

Ps: I messed up the POV Tense, my bad

“I swear if this next portal isn’t out Peter-“ Michelle started.

“I want to see Peter Parker” Ned said, while swirling his hands to create a portal.

The two Peter’s in the room looked confused as they saw the portal but nobody was there. They were looking into an empty apartment with the lights off. It was clear someone had just been there since the smoke from a single lit candle was slowly filling the room. Ned leaned closer to get a better look but flinched back.

“Hiya Ned!“ a voice said.

A Spider-Man was perched on the edge of the portal, sticking to seemingly nothing. They were upside down and staring right in his face.

“You know me?”

“Of course I do silly. Well not you, you, but I know everyone who’s looking for me. Well not me, but like 5’8, total nerd, with the most gorgeous hair. I can find him if ya want!”

They all starred in bewilderment, this was definitely they most hyper Peter they’ve met. They crawled out of the portal and sat on top of it seemingly defying physics.

“You must me Michelle, I see why Peter likes you, you’re pretty and smart. Which makes you Dr. Connor’s and you Doc ock’s. Not that we belong to our villains of course, but for the purposes of differentiation.”

“Who are you?” Michelle asked.

They did a back flip off the portal.

“Oh gosh, we’re are my manners, I’m Peter… Peter Parker!”

Their voice changed as they pulled off their mask, revealing her long dirty blonde hair with a white streak in the front. Her voice got softer, less masculine and her accent changed.

“You’re a girl.” Ned asked, flabbergasted.

She looked down out herself, admiring how she looked in her suit.

“I’m not sure how you define gender in your universe, but I suppose that term would fit. I don’t know, do meta humans not have different gender constraints here?”

“Meta human?” Peter asked.

“We’ll I am part spider, are you not?”

“I suppose our DNA would qualify us as Meta Humans where your from. Speaking of which, where is that?” The older Peter asked.

“We’ll my Earth doesn’t really have a name, but I think what you’re meaning to ask is who my villain is?”

“Umm yes…”

“We’ll don’t you worry you’re pretty old head about that, I already took care of him.”

“You sent him home?”

“We’ll not exactly, I sent him somewhere, a place where he won’t be a problem. He’s not really the ‘grrrr angry’ type ya know! V and I have a mutual understanding. I’ll drag him back with me when I’m done here.”

“And we’re just supposed to trust that?” Michelle asked.

“Wow, you’re a deeply mistrusting person, I respect that! Now enough about me, you’re Peter is hurting, he needs you.”

She reached out here hand and they all looked at her confused.

“The two of you know him best, I can read where he might me.”

Michelle looked at Ned and he shrugged, reaching out to grab the girls hand.

“Found him!”

They made their way to the younger Peter’s hiding spot. The Spiderling watched in awe at the shows of affection in front of her.

“Peter there’s people here to see you.” Michelle said softly.

They all took their que to emerge from the shadows. Y/N was the last to show her face, hanging upside down in front of Peter.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Ned asked.

“I find you get a better look at people when you have a different perspective.”

She dropped down from her web and flung her arms around Peter. He awkwardly accepted the hug.

“Ummm, who are you.”

“We’ll these are the Peter’s, umm they’re you from different universes” Ned explained.

“Nice to meet you kid.” Older Peter spoke.

College Peter ruffled his hair and pulled her off of him.

“Sorry about her, you’d swear she was hit by a puppy.”

Y/N let out a soft giggle at this, allowing the older boy to move her with ease. She was the youngest of the four, barley but a year ago. They watched as the eldest Peter shot a web without his suit.

“Eww”

“Wow”

The other peter said.

“How did you do that?”

“Wait you guys can’t create webs?”

“Built mine in a lab” Two Peter’s said in sync.

“How does that come out of you?”

“I don’t think I want to know” Michelle muttered.

“If you guys thought that’s gross, wait until you see this.”

Before anyone could question her, Y/N revealed a second set of eyes hidden behind her bangs.

“Gnarly” Ned said.

“Bet I can see better than all of you though! And it improves my spideysense.

“Wicked.” Connor’s Peter exclaimed.

“And before any of you ask, I am a female spider so… I think that’s enough of this conversation.”

The boys all thought long and hard about what she was implying. But Ned was the most vocal about it. She rolled her eyes and webbed his mouth before jumping off the side of the building. When no one followed she crawled back up.

“We’ll come on guys, we’ve got villains to save!”

#spiderman 2 #spider man no way home #spiderman #tom holland #toby maguire #andrew garfield #marvel oc #peter parker #trans peter parker #super hero #hero oc #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n

46 notes · View notes

randomchance · 2 years

Text

NO WAY HOME SPOILERS

okay so i had little intention of actually seeing this movie, since i had skipped every spiderman movie before homecoming plus far from home and into the spiderverse.

but my friend who had just finished her second go at college applications contacted me and asked me to see this, so i went (im definitely not against spiderman and i love how marvel movies look anyway)

and so here's my thought process during the whole movie as someone who knows very little about this fanchise and didnt even watch the trailers

1. oh hey tom and zendaya theyre so cute

2. hey ned!!

3. ah. last movie was rough i see

4. wtf why they doing him like this (the media)

5. oh wow college applications. *experiences ptsd*

6. doctor strange!!!

7. peter... peter pls. he said no-

8. oh hey cool he talks to the mit ppl-

9. is that OTTO?? (i have heard of him but as someone that appeared LONG. ago)

10. wow cool fight (not sarcastic)

11. oh right tom's not "his" spiderman

12. *realizes implications*

13. why is he kinda adorable

14. who tf is that villain-laughing green alien

15. electricity? sand?? what is happening

16. oh so like... pokemons.

17. *me having no knowledge of what the characters are like, their stories, nothing* peter why wont you let them die they literally werent supposed to live- peter why???

18. *having never seen doctor strange's mirror dimension powers* holy fucking shit thats so cool

19. *realizes peter just beat doctor strange in his own dimension*

20. *tower of god flashbacks to where it is hinted that baam is way way powerful*

21. oh that dude talking to the mask is defs sus, thats gonna be a problem later

22. but hes so... soft...

23. aunt may's salt water or fresh water combined with doc ock's done-with-this-shit look killed me

24. omg hes so nice when he isnt... ya know... chipped?

25. oh no

26. um- are they- ya know-

like, honey????

27. NO AUNT MAY WHY ARENT THE POLICE HELPING

28. HOLY SHIT IS THAT ANDREW-

29. HOLY SHIT THATS TOBEY

30. ned's grandma is so... awesome 😂

31. spider brothers bonding time :3

32. i swear the octo guy is so adorable

33. i didnt even watch their respective movies but andrew saving mj and sobbing / the look tobey gave tom gave me CHILLS

34. omg tobey and otto talking

also that really felt like it was directed to the audience :')

35. doctor strange cleaning up everyones his mess was both awesome and kinda funny

36. nononono dont life is strange / 12th doctor and clara / gravity falls me dont you dare-

37. steven actually being sad was so freaking arghhhhhh *sobs*

38. ....you know what? him not pushing it when he sees both of em happy actually felt right. it hurt, but it felt right.

39. fricking amazing movie.

#spiderman no way home #spiderman no way home spoilers #spoilers #mcu spoilers #spiderman spoilers #no way home spoilers #doc ock #spiderman #green goblin

33 notes · View notes

iliumheightnights · 4 years

Text

The children are our future? | Peter Parker x Male Reader

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Peter Parker x Male!Stark Reader

Summary: (M/N) goes to surprise Peter and pick him up from school. While there a student tries to befriend him and (M/N) may or may not have lost his temper after realizing who it was.

A/N: I’ve been reading loads of fics about Peter and the field trip trope and like...maybe that’s coming… ;)

…

Peter tapped his pencil against the desktop repeatedly. It was obvious the school day was dragging on and he was ready to get out of there. He always wanted to get out of school early but even more so since he was supposed to be working with Tony in the lab today. Of course that would happen AFTER he saw his boyfriend, he always came first.

Peter was brought out of his boredom when he felt his spidey senses going off and no soon after something hit his head. It didn’t hurt and when he looked it was just a crumpled up piece of paper. He shouldn’t pick up that paper, everything in his body said to just ignore it. So he did, he ignored it. Then after a little bit another one hit him. Then another. Then another. He could tell it was Flash trying to mess with him and as much as he hated saying it, it was working. With one last paper ball Peter had enough.”WHAT!?” He glared at the boy who was only smirking at him. “MR.PARKER! What is going on?!” Peter felt his stomach drop. Oh he was in trouble. “I...I was-” “See me after class!” The whole class snickered and Flash smirked at him. Peter hated it here.

Peter stayed after class to get a talking to by the teacher. He was angry to say the least, Flash never got in trouble or anything. It should be him here not Peter. The teacher was going on about respect and not causing trouble, Peter really wasn’t listening if he was being honest. After the rant Peter left the class to be greeted by Ned. “Hey, figured I’d wait for you. How’d it go in there?” Peter shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing important. Just another person who won’t deal with Flash.” Ned nudged him. “At least you didn’t get like, detention or anything. We can deal with Flash another day.” Peter and Ned exited the front door of the school and heard whispers and talk. “Is that (M/N) Stark?” “What’s HE doing here?” Peter looked up and gulped. There he was, his boyfriend...looking absolutely annoyed with a starstruck Flash talking to him. “Or he’s gonna deal with him.”

…

(M/N) Stark leaned against the passenger side of the car. He was there on a mission, Peter had been acting strange for the past week and it was worrying him. He was so worried he got in contact with Ned, who after several minutes of questions, told him about Peter’s bully Flash. (M/N) would have dealt with it sooner had he any name other than a Fake name to go off of. He could have asked Ned but (M/N) had a better idea.

Before Happy could even reach his car, the poor man was intercepted by (M/N). “Sup Happy. You out to get Peter? Well belay that order, I’m picking him up today. Go out and get yourself some lunch you deserve it.” Happy didn’t know what was happening but he watched as (M/N) got into one of Tony’s sports cars and drove out of the parking garage. That’s how he found himself outside of Midtown High.

(M/N) was scrolling on his phone waiting for his boyfriend to arrive. The school bell rang and students started walking out. He could hear people talking about him and it made him smirk. “Holy shit! You’re (M/N) Stark!” (M/N) looked up to see a boy who looked like he was about to faint. “That’s me.” He didn’t say anything else as he returned to his phone. “What are you doing here? Never mind. You have a really cool car! I got a sick ride too! I can show it to ya if you want! Oh! Can I get a photo?” (M/N) let out a sigh. He didn’t want to be rude, but frankly this kid was getting on his nerves. “What’s your name kid?” “Eugene, Eugene Thompson. But you can call me-” He stopped as Peter and Ned came walking up. (M/N) smiled at his boyfriend who was smiling back at him. “Hey.” Peter said but was interrupted by Flash. “Hey Penis! Can’t you see the two of us are talking? Trying to make it seem like that Stark internship is a real thing?” Peter glanced to his boyfriend who was still smiling, but his eyes held the intent to murder. “I bet (M/N) here would just LOVE to hear about it. A loser like you wouldn’t even be able to go through the front doors!” Peter smirked at Flash.

(M/N) started typing into his phone, still smiling. “You know what EUGENE. I would LOVE to hear about it. Why can’t Peter here walk through the front doors when he is one of the best interns my father has ever had?” Flash looked shocked while Peter was smirking, Ned looking somewhat lost and happy. (M/N) was still typing on his phone. “Also I should point out that the very boy you are insulting and calling penis is actually my boyfriend and if you know anything about me...I don’t take kindly to people who hurt the people that I love. And....done.” (M/N) looked back up from his phone to Flash. “You have now been blacklisted from every ivy league college on the eastern seaboard. You’re welcome. You’ll be lucky if even a community college accepts you here.”(M/N) held up his phone and took a photo of Flash’s red face. “What!? Y-You can’t do that!” (M/N) smirked. “I can. You know why? I’m (M/N) fucking Stark and you fucked with my boyfriend. You’re lucky that being blacklisted was all I did.” He stepped closer to the boy and tightly gripped his shoulder. “Because if I wasn’t so good about controlling my anger.” He let some of his powers slip through to let his eyes light up. “You wouldn’t live to see graduation. Now get out of here and don’t let me hear about you messing with Peter, his friends, or anyone else again.” Flash looked like he was on the verge of tears but nodded and ran away. Before he could get too far (M/N) stopped him. “Oh and Eugene! This isn’t over, I’ll be watching.”

With everything that went down it was no surprise that most of the students were staring at them. Some shocked still from the Stark boy being at their school, others for what he just did to Flash. They weren’t sure what he could really do to them so no one dared say anything or take videos. Turning to a blushing Peter, (M/N) smiled brightly at him. “Hey babe.” Peter smiled and looked embarrassingly at his feet. “Did you really have to do that?” (M/N) smirked at his boyfriend and held onto his shoulders. “Of course I did. He was a dick to you and annoying me. He made his bed now he gets to lay in it.” Peter was about to say something else but his boyfriend cut him off by pressing his lips to Peter’s. The sound of gasps and whispers could be heard, but neither of them cared. Pulling apart (M/N) opened the passenger door. “Shall we go? I’m sure dad’s already working in the lab.” He turned to Ned who was looking shocked beyond belief but also smiling broadly. “Thanks again for your help Ned. Much appreciated.” Ned nodded. “Anytime. See ya later Peter. Bye (M/N)!”

Peter said his goodbye before sitting in the car. (M/N) got into the driver's seat and pulled away from the school. “Man...I really hate public school. You sure you don’t want dad to just...pull some strings and get you into M.I.T or something?” Peter chuckled at that and looked at him. “Yeah I’m sure, I’d miss Ned and MJ too much. Besides I have a feeling it’ll be alright now that you’ve dealt with Flash. Don’t think anyone else would want to get on your bad side.” (M/N) shook his head with a smile. “Good. They better not, otherwise I’ll come after them. I wonder if that twerps gonna go run to mommy and daddy. If he does...I’ll end them too.” Peter’s soft smile turned into a glare. “Don’t do anything that you’ll regret or that will be too...bad.” (M/N) huffed a laugh. “TOO BAD!? What are you five? Don’t worry it’s not like I’ll ruin their lives...just make it a little more difficult.” Peter put his face in his hands but smirked. “Sometimes I worry about you.”

“You love me.”

“Maybe TOO much.”

…

The rest of the drive had been pretty uneventful. Just small talk about what each other's day had been like. Peter had made sure to leave out the part about Flash getting him in trouble, if he told his boyfriend that he’d ruin his life even more than he already had. When they had arrived at the tower Peter wanted to do nothing more than to lay down with his boyfriend but Tony wanted his help in the lab.

“So I heard my son single handedly ruined a kid's life today.” Peter blushed at Tony’s words and focused on the project in front of him. “Ugh..k-kind of. I can try talking to him to undo it.” He heard Tony scoff. “Don’t you dare. That kid deserves it and plus...you honestly think we’d be able to get (M/N) to undo it?” Peter laughed along with Tony, at least he didn’t seem mad about it. “The question is kid...why didn’t you tell us? We would have done something a lot sooner and maybe less...intense.” Peter didn’t know what to say. He had wanted to tell them about everything but also didn’t want to at the same time. “Well, I DID want to tell you. I just...didn’t want to bother either of you. I just thought it was something I’d be able to deal with on my own. Figured it wasn’t that important.” Peter shrugged but felt Tony’s hand on his shoulder and he was soon facing his mentor/future father inlaw. “Peter. We both love you. Anything that deals with you is important to us. We want to make sure that you’re okay and living your best life. Asshats like that try and get off on pushing people around thinking they can get away with it. Now he won’t do it to you or anyone else again. Please, if something like this happens again tell us. We’re here for you.” Peter let out a sigh and felt tears building up in his eyes. “Thanks Mr.Stark.” Tony pulled him into a hug. “Anytime underoos. Now...Put away your tools and stuff. I’m sure my kid’s anxiously waiting for you upstairs.” Peter pulled back from the hug and began putting everything away. Tony going back to his own project. Peter was heading out of the lab when Tony called out again. “Also if you two get heated just make sure to wear protection!” Peter blushed. “Mr-Mr.Stark!” Tony waved him off. “Kidding! Kidding! Now go on!”

Peter walked to the common room where (M/N) was laying on the couch watching tv, when he saw Peter he smiled. “Hey. You’re done early.” Peter walked over and sat beside him. “Yeah. Your dad let me out.” Peter leaned his head on his boyfriends shoulder as the others arm pulled him closer. “Doesn’t sound like my dad. Maybe he’s an imposter.” Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. “Did you really black list him from every college?” (M/N) scoffed. “Peter I’m not that cruel. I believe people can have redemption. But I DID block him from the good ones on the eastern side of the us. He can still go to community colleges or to good schools on the other side of the country. It’s not like he’s out of options.” Seeing his boyfriend's face he sighed. “Ugh. If you feel that’s too harsh I’ll undo it. But I think it’s the push he needed to understand.” Peter smiled at him. “I love you.” (M/N)’s breath hitched. “What? I mean I love you too but...how did that come about?” Peter blushed and kissed his cheek. “Because even though he was incredibly rude to me you still were willing to undo it for me. Which I don’t want you to. He’s rich, or at least well off, I’m sure he’ll be able to go across the country. And you’re right, he needs to learn...plus maybe I’m a little salty about the years of bullying he’s done.”

(M/N) leaned in, smiling at Peter. He cupped his face in his hands. “Honey. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I gotta say you’ve pretty much ruined me.” The two boys laughed at each other. “I’ve been told I’ve had that effect on people.” Peter leaned in and brushed his lips against (M/N)’s, who leaned deeper into the kiss. After a while the two separated and laid down together. “So...what are we going to watch?” “Have you seen clone wars?”

“Duh.”

An hour later Tony would walk in to find the two boys passed out on top of each other. Quietly he pulled out his phone and took a photo. “Nerds. But they’re my nerds.”

#marvel #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male stark reader #peter parker x male!stark reader #peter parker x stark reader #peter parker x stark!reader

609 notes · View notes

annab-nana · 3 years

Text

Menstrual Mess - Peter Parker

Peter’s spidey senses were telling him that something was wrong with his newest friend, but he could not quite figure out what it was. When his problem-solving brain would not give it a rest, it proved to be more harm than good.

A/N: This is my first marvel/Peter Parker imagine so I really hope you guys enjoy it :)

Warnings: some curse words; period talk (blood, cramps, tampons and such)

Word Count: 2.8k+

--------------------------------------------------

Peter Parker was your newfound friend, possibly even best friend. Going to the same school and sharing most of the same classes is how you knew each other, but about three weeks ago when your last class got a new seating chart that placed you and Peter next to each other, your mere acquaintance became a really good friend. You both talked more, walked to your classes together, you started sitting with him at lunch, studied with each other. Y’all even started walking home together sometimes after realizing that you two didn’t live too far away from each other.

Now, Peter was still learning and getting used to his powers and senses. One day when his senses enhanced almost every time he was around you, he got a little suspicious. Something was different with you because this never happened before and it only occurred when he was around you. Something felt different and smelled different. Something was wrong with you and it worried him. He had asked if you were okay a few times throughout the day which you had noticed after the second or third time. You also noticed his worried glances and how his leg never stopped bouncing the whole day. His anxious tendencies worried you a little, but you tried to shrug it off.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Peter asked you for what felt like the millionth time just in the five hours you two had been at school.

“Yes, Peter,” you chuckled while closing your locker and looking into the boy’s big brown worry-filled eyes. “I am perfectly fine. Are you okay because you have not stopped asking me that all day long? You’re worrying me, Parker.”

“Yeah, I’m okay. I- I’ve just had a weird feeling all day that I can’t seem to shake,” he told you honestly as his fingers fiddled with the bottom of his shirt.

“Did you have a bad dream last night or something?” you asked, walking next to the nervous boy to your next class.

“Umm yeah actually. You, Ned, and MJ were all getting hurt and I couldn’t help you,” Peter told you. It was a lie, but it helped to cover up why he was so anxious about you.

“So that’s why you’ve been asking if I was okay?” He nodded to answer your question and it warmed your heart. You thought it was adorable how he had a nightmare and his fears from it were carrying over into the day. He was genuinely worried that something bad would happen to you and it showed how much he cared.

“That’s really sweet, Parker,” you mumbled as your shoulders brushed each other. Your hands probably would’ve too if his hands weren’t stuffed into his pockets.

“I’ll talk to you after class, okay?” he said when you two reached the door of Mr. Dell’s class.

“Yep.” And with that, you two took your seats across the room from each other and began taking notes on the lecture your teacher was giving.

...

Peter hoped that his senses would have dialed down the next day, but they didn’t. In fact, they had heightened more, and it terrified him. He was worrying that he might have sensed a sickness or something else bad going on within you before you knew it or felt it. This time when he walked up to you, you looked a little more like something was wrong with you and not as bubbly and happy as you were yesterday.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked you with a chuckle when his eyes landed on your body that was leaned up against the lockers, your head held back, and eyes shut.

“No, I’m tired,” you mumbled, not opening your eyes. You just wanted to turn around and go back home to sleep, but you couldn’t do that.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” he inquired while leaning against the lockers as well, facing you. You turned your body to face his and opened one eye as you nodded your head at him. Last night, your monthly visitor came, and your cramps were a pure bitch, only letting you sleep in half-hour increments.

“Well, I heard that we’re watching a Civil War video in Mr. Miller’s class so why don’t you take a nap? He won’t be paying attention anyway and if he does happen to look up from his computer, I’ll hide you since I sit in front of you. You can get my notes on it later,” Peter offered as his eyes scanned over your calm face. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his and you nodded your head gently at him.

“That sounds nice. Thanks, Peter,” you whispered softly and gave him a lazy smile. He laughed at his tired friend before wrapping an arm around your shoulders, letting you lean into him.

“Come on, sleepy. Let’s go to history.”

Later on in the day after you had a refreshing nap and went to some more classes, you felt a bit better, but Peter’s senses were still going haywire. So, he asked once again if you were okay.

“I’m fine, Peter!” you snapped as you slammed your locker door rather loudly at the end of the school day. You both were taken back by your sudden outburst and an apology quickly flew from your lips. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay, y/n. Uhh, what are you doing today?” he questioned, trying to change the subject.

“Probably work on my cell model. What about you?” you continued the conversation with the boy as you two walked out of school.

“Stark internship,” he reminded you with a smile, pushing the metal door open and letting you go through first.

“Oh yeah, how could I forget the one thing that occupies almost all your time,” you joked while you waited for him to walk with you.

“Y/n, you sound jealous,” he teased, poking at your side to which you quickly grabbed his hand and shot him a death glare. His laugh sounded through the air while you dropped his hand from yours and playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“You wish I was jealous,” you scoffed and grabbed onto the straps of your backpack. You were about to laugh along with Peter, but a cramp in your stomach caused the laugh to come out as a low groan which you tried to cover it all up with a cough.

“You good?” he asked genuinely as his eyebrows drew together in confusion at whatever just happened to you.

“Yeah, just had a tickle in my throat,” you said after you let a few more coughs out to really sell it. He slowly nodded his head, unsure of what to think but he brushed it off.

“Well, this is where we split,” he announced when you two approached the point in your trip home where he had to turn to go to his internship.

“See ya, Parker,” you told him while you waved and crossed the street to continue going straight towards your place.

...

“Something just doesn’t feel right, Karen. Everything in me is saying that something is wrong with her and I don’t know what. I’m scared that there could be something seriously wrong with her and my senses are trying to warn me to help her, but I don’t know what to do. Yesterday, I thought they were wrong, but today, she genuinely seemed off and that on top of my senses telling me something’s wrong is making me really worried,” Peter told his ‘suit lady’ while being perched on the roof of a building, overlooking the view of Queens.

“Have you asked her how she feels?” Karen responded to the worried teenager.

“I’m afraid I’ve asked her too much that I might be annoying her, but I can’t help but ask her,” he stated, his eyes scanning over the city below him. He turned to his left to look over that way, knowing your building wasn’t that far away. “I’m gonna go see if she’s okay now.”

Shooting his web at the next building over, he jumped and swung over as he repeated the process until he was crawling on the brick of the wall you always saw when you looked out your window. He glanced towards your window, seeing as you still had your curtains open. You normally kept them open to let the sunlight in, but the sun was going to set soon. Peter saw you laying on your bed, your body clothed in some black sweatpants and your big blue Midtown School of Science and Technology sweatshirt. You had the sweatshirt lifted slightly and your hand rested on the section of your stomach that was showing.

Peter jumped over to your building’s wall to get a better look in your window. Was he invading your privacy? Yeah, a little, but he was trying to make sure you were okay. He noticed that you were clutching at your stomach and you wore a pained expression on your face. There were two pill bottles on your nightstand, but the labels were turned away from him so there was nothing he could use from those to help answer his question. Against his better judgment, he tapped at the glass and alerted you of his presence.

When you heard the tapping, you were intrigued to say the least. You were pretty high in this building so it would be fairly difficult to climb up here, but when you saw who it was, it clicked as to how they got up to your window. You pulled your shirt down and furrowed your eyebrows before getting up to open the window.

“Hello?” you asked the masked hero who was in front of you who could probably be doing better things like fighting crime than coming to random windows. If Flash were in your position right now, you knew you’d never hear the end of it.

“Hi, ma’am. I was swinging by and noticed you seemed to be in pain. I wanted to make sure everything was alright,” he stated in a deep voice which threw you off. In the videos on YouTube, his voice seemed a little more high-pitched. Something about him brought you a sense of familiarity and comfort, so you let the change in voice go.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you told the man in red and blue as you rocked back on your heels. Peter looked a little to his right and spotted what looked to be your untouched cell model that has yet to be done. A light chuckle escaped his lips right before Karen told him that his help was needed elsewhere.

“That’s great, but I’ve got to go. Uh, stay in school!” he shouted awkwardly as he shot a web and swung away. You watched him disappear around the corner and shut your window before returning to your bed. You were about to lay there and think about what just happened, but the pain that has been ripping through your lower abdomen for the last twenty-four hours stole your attention as you groaned. After the pain subsided for a moment, you reached over for your laptop to put on Netflix to help distract you and maybe help you get some sleep.

...

You were the type to get actually dressed for school and you would even wear a little makeup, so naturally, when Peter noticed you fresh-faced with leggings and a hoodie on and your hair lazily thrown in a bun, he knew something was wrong. It was not that he didn’t like the look. He thought you looked cute, but it just wasn’t you. At least, it wasn’t you at school. Peter held off asking you if you were okay as much as he did the past two days, but he still had to check. It was not until you left your second to last class of the day to go to your locker that you began to grow very irritated by the constant interrogation of your wellbeing.

“You okay?” Peter asked again when he noticed your slightly widened eyes.

“Yes, Peter. I am okay. There is absolutely nothing for you to worry about so can we drop it please?” you muttered while you rummaged through your bag looking for one thing.

“Yeah, ummm… oh, do you want to come over to my place after school? We can work on our paper or do our trig homework,” he told you while you huffed, pushing the random things in your bag around to try to find the thing that you so desperately needed in this moment.

“I’d love to Pete, but I’ll probably just go home. I don’t feel too good,” you stated as you stood up and pushed the books in your locker to the side in search of the small bag you kept back there for emergencies like this.

“Are you sick?” That damn worried tone checking on you again sparked more aggravation, causing you to snap.

“No, Peter. I am on my period and there is blood dripping out of me as we speak, so if you don’t mind, I am going to go to the bathroom and change this,” you informed him while showing him the tampon you just pulled out of the bag and slamming your locker door shut before heading to the restroom.

Peter stood there for a second thinking how he could be so stupid. He should have known. You were never so moody or snappy before. You normally were never so tired and were much more chipper in the mornings. He also felt like an idiot for prying so hard, but he only did it because he cared. He felt like shit, so he ran to the vending machine. He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor as he watched the candy bar fall from its spot and land in the box below.

After quickly grabbing that, he dashed back to wait outside the restroom for you. Your eyes met his briefly when you opened the door before you rolled them and walked the other direction. You were embarrassed and agitated and seeing him only reminded you of it, so you tried to speed ahead to get to the last class of the day.

“Y/n, wait!” Peter called ahead while he grabbed your arm to slow you down.

“What, Peter?” you spat as you stopped walking and turned to face him.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry and get on your nerves. I just felt like something was wrong, so I wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry if that made you feel angry or upset. I just care about you,” he apologized quickly as his brown eyes flickered between your own quickly, looking for a hint of forgiveness. You let out a sigh before speaking.

“It’s okay, I guess. Just next time leave me alone a little,” you chuckled lightly which brought a big smile to Peter’s face.

“You got it. Once a month, it will be like I don’t even exist,” he nervously laughed along with you as you both began to walk again to the class that kindled your friendship.

“I want you to still exist Parker, just not asking if I am okay every other minute.”

“I can do that,” he told you before stuffing his hands in his pockets until he felt something in his pocket.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I got you this. I heard that chocolate helps, or at least that’s how it is in movies and tv shows and stuff,” he rambled while he handed you your favorite chocolate bar.

“Aw, thanks Peter. That is really sweet of you,” you complimented, a slight blush dusting over his cheeks. His blush grew when you leaned over to press your lips to his cheek as another way to thank him.

“Uh, so Ned and I are having a Star Wars marathon tomorrow if you want to- oh wait, you probably won’t feel up to it. Forget I said anything,” he stumbled through the sentence as he looked at his feet.

“It’s okay, Peter. Thanks for thinking of me and I’ll let you know tomorrow if I feel like going,” you told the blushing boy as you both walked into the classroom and took your seats next to each other.

“Okay, that sounds good,” Peter nodded while speaking before he pulled out his notebook and you followed suit. You both took notes for your class while communicating with each other by writing notes to each other in the margins of your paper and smiling like idiots at the dumb jokes you’d both crack. It was the most peaceful hour or so you had in the last two days which proved that when Peter was not continuously asking you if you were okay, he was the only one who could distract you from your cramping stomach and for that, you were thankful for the caring idiot that sat next to you.

--------------------------------------------------

tag list: @rebelemilu @starrybrock

click here to be added to the taglist

#peter #peter parker #peter imagine #peter x reader #peter fanfic #peter fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman #spiderman fanfiction #marvel

210 notes · View notes

hale-13 · 3 years

Text

Hold Onto the Faith as I Dig Another Grave

By Hale13

For the Summer of Whump Day 6 - Buried Alive

He can’t do it.

There’s just no way he can do it.

He can feel the air thinning, his eyesight gets steadily darker, he can almost smell fresh tilled earth (a rarity in the middle of New York City) and this is it.

He’s going to die.

Words: 2031, Chapters: 1/1 (Complete), Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Michelle Jones, Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Michelle Jones, Tony Stark, Happy Hogan

TW: Absolutely none.

Read on AO3 or below the line break.

He can’t do it.

There’s just no way he can do it.

He can feel the air thinning, his eyesight gets steadily darker, he can almost smell fresh tilled earth (a rarity in the middle of New York City) and this is it.

He’s going to die.

“Could you be any more dramatic?” MJ asks from where she’s furiously typing into her laptop, he hair more frizzy than normal and her eyes pinched. Her usually unaffected demeanor is cracking a little at the edges and Peter has never seen her so frantic and disorganized – he feels a little bad about it.

“Seriously Peter,” Ned agrees from his section of the table where multi-colored index cards are scattered in a disorganized mess – he, too, looks on the verge of a breakdown but he’s not able to hide it as easily as Michelle – Ned always has worn his heart on his sleeve. “It’s your fault we waited until the last minute anyway,” his (now former – seriously Ned what the hell, how dare you) best friend accuses.

Peter just lets out a wounded animal noise as he edits his section of their PowerPoint, eyes nearly crossed he’s so close to the screen. Like that would help him edit any faster he thinks sardonically. “It’s not totally my fault,” he tried to rationalize.

“Yes it is,” MJ tells him bluntly, face buried in her over-highlighted notes on the vaccine apartheid in India and Africa for the comparative section of their presentation. “We could have been done weeks ago if you had actually come to the meetings we scheduled.”

“I came to the first one,” Peter protested, looking through his image folder for the proper photo for his slide – he had, at least, cropped and edited them all already so he had one less thing to do. “And besides, we divided the work up evenly – you didn’t even need me around to do your part.” He immediately flinched at the very clear ‘eat shit and die’ look Michelle gave him and murmured out a quick apology before ducking his head back into his work. Ned gave him a look of pity and a sad head shake, Peter just glared in response.

Ned bangs his head onto the table softly and moans. “Why do we always wait until the last minute? I hate waiting until the last minute.”

“Less whining, more writing,” Michelle says bluntly, adding a slide to the PowerPoint on their Google docs and making Peter groan. His job is to outline and find pictures, Michelle’s is to clean everything up and organize their presentation and Ned’s is to make sure that their presentation is cohesive and write out their speech. It’s a system that has, traditionally, worked well for them but this time may as well be a disaster. The only thing keeping them together at this point is MJ’s ruthless efficiency and Ned and Peter’s intense fear of failure.

“We were supposed to do this last week,” Ned continued, ignoring MJ’s order and then the kick she aimed as his shin; not even flinching at what was surely decent pain considering their friend had worn her Doc Marten’s to their meeting. “Why the hell did we let you cancel?”

“Because of that bank robbery remember?” Peter says, ignoring his own work for a second and risking MJ’s (well deserved not that he would admit it) wrath. “And then I got caught on patrol for a couple hours and then it was curfew.” He may have also been in the MedBay that night for a (minor) stab wound but he wasn’t telling them that – his friends worried enough about him as it was.

“Not that I necessarily support the police and the clear and rampant systemic racism of the entire system,” Michelle began, forcefully picking Ned’s head off the table and shoving a pen into his hands so he would continue working, “but that is their job. If we aren’t going to defund them the least they could do is handle a bank robbery.” This had been a frequent disagreement between the two of them for a while – MJ was one hundred percent correct in her viewpoint but Peter was a closet control freak who couldn’t leave well enough alone. They tried not to talk about it in polite conversation anymore.

“But there were hostages,” Peter whined, and there were. About twelve of them who all seemed more bored and annoyed than scared but that was the city for ya.

“And?” Michelle accused. “What do you think happened before you started running around in tights?”

“She has a point,” Ned said gently, organizing the index cards to be less chaotic.

Peter gave them both an irritated huff and muttered “They aren’t tights.”

“Spandex then,” Michelle said flippantly, waving her hand in his direction without looking up from her screen. Peter rolled his eyes.

“Well the next time we have a group project I’ll just send out a nice tweet asking all the criminals and muggers to put their crime on hold so I can do my homework,” Peter huffed sarcastically but without any real heat.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Ned said, sounding relieved and Peter rolled his eyes again but got back to work. He was only on slide thirteen of twenty-five and, at the rate MJ was adding pages, he’d never finish. They worked in silence for a while, only breaking it to ask murmured questions before, finally, MJ snapped her laptop shut.

“Well if its not done at this point its not ever going to be,” she stated causing Ned to drop his pen and massage his cramping hand and Peter to let his head fall to the table in relief with a moan – his head was starting to throb and the words on his computer were swimming in front of his eyes. “Let’s try to get to school early tomorrow to do a couple run throughs before the presentation.” Peter glanced at the clock on the library wall and groaned, receiving a conciliatory pat on the back from Ned – he still had a ton of homework to get through before he could even think about sleeping.

“Want a ride home?” Ned asked a few minutes later when they were standing on the steps in front of the library. MJ’s mom had already been waiting when they stepped outside leaving just Ned and Peter to wait on Ned’s older sister.

“Nah,” Peter said, adjusting his too heavy backpack and rocking back on his heels. “Think I might swing home, just a quick patrol you know?”

The look Ned gave him was skeptical and disapproving but Peter chose to ignore it. He wouldn’t be out long anyway – just a quick run through the areas he knew were a problem and then home. Faster than the subway for sure. “Fine,” Ned grunted, thankfully holding in his opinion. “But you should go ahead and go before my sister gets here and insists on driving you,” Ned indicated to his tracking app, showing his sister only a few minutes away.

“Thanks man,” Peter said, initiating their handshake and trotting off around the corner to find a suitable alley to change in.

—————————————————

Three hours later, Peter fell through the window of his bedroom, collapsing on the floor and pulling his mask off. His hair was limp and sweaty where it clung to his head and his headache from earlier had gotten worse – the throbbing elevating up to a stabbing behind his eyes.

“One minute,” he told himself, panting and draping his elbow over his eyes. “You can have one minute and then you have work to do.”

“Talking to yourself?”

Peter jumped up, banging his head on the side of his bed with a wince, causing his vision to grey out a little and falling back on the floor to stare dazedly at the ceiling. Tony leaned over him to block his view, his expression mixed between humor and pity as Peter groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“Thought you had a tingle?” Tony teased, grabbing Peter’s hand and pulling him up to sit propped against the wall, ignoring the glare Peter shot him. “You’re lucky May’s working tonight.”

“Yeah I know,” Peter admitted. He was over two hours late for his midnight curfew and, if May had been home and not working in the ER, she would have skinned him alive and then grounded him for the foreseeable future.

“You’re even more lucky I covered for your scrawny spider ass and told her you were staying at the Tower tonight,” Tony said smugly, gesturing to the overnight bag that he had clearly packed for Peter. “Go ahead and change, you can shower once we get back to the Penthouse. You got everything you need for school?”

“Yeah,” Peter confirmed, stripping off the suit and pulling on an old pair of sweats and the t-shirt he had worn to school earlier. Changed and stumbling, he followed his mentor down to the town car that was waiting in front of the door to his apartment, crawling into the back seat and resting his aching head against the window; ignoring Happy’s tired look of disapproval in the rear view mirror.

“So,” Tony began, sitting across from him to make better eye contact. “Want to tell me why you’re out so late?”

“Well I was at the library with Ned and MJ working on a project for biology until about eleven-,”

“Why so late?” Tony interrupted, brows furrowed in thought. Peter bit his lip and averted his eyes and Tony nodded in understanding. “So you procrastinated until the last minute.”

“Maybe,” Peter conceded, eyes darting over to his bag and lingering for a second. Tony clocked the movement and let out a long suffering sigh, massaging his eyes with the thumb and forefinger on his right hand and grimacing .

“How much more do you have?”

“Uh…,” Peter squeaked out. “Just… just two problem sets in physics, one in calculus and five chapters of Jane Eyre to read.” Easily three to four hours of work and Peter was starting to feel buried and suffocated under the course load, his muscles started to tremble at the impending exhaustion he would be feeling the next day on little to no sleep.

Tony gave him a look of commiseration before asking “And when is all of this due?”

“The presentation is my last period of the day, right after lunch,” Peter answered. “Everything else is due in the morning.” Tony studied him for a moment before sighing.

“Here’s the offer: you go back to the Penthouse, take a shower and go to bed,” he held up a hand to halt Peter’s protest, “and I’ll tell May you have, what I assume to be, the start of a migraine,” Peter’s hand reached up subconsciously to rub his temple under his mentor’s knowing look. “She can call you out of school and I’ll take you at lunch so you don’t miss your presentation then you have all weekend to stick your nose in a book while I do some suit modifications. Square deal?”

Peter let out a sigh of relief and melted into the soft leather, nodding. “Deal.”

The rest of the ride was silent and Peter dozed until he was urged out of the car and into the elevator. Once they reached the Penthouse, Tony relieved him of his book bag and passed over the duffle he had packed, Peter not even bothering to put up a token protest as he was shoo’ed in the direction of his room. He pulled out his phone to text his group chat with Ned and MJ and saw that he already had a message waiting.

About thirty minutes before, MJ had sent a screenshot of the SpideyWatch twitter page that had a clear picture of him stopping a mugging just before he got home. The text under it said ‘see you at lunch for a practice run’ and Peter smiled a little, chest warm, as he sent the thumbs up emoji and tossed his phone onto his bed; he was looking forward to a scalding shower and eight hours of uninterrupted blissful sleep.

#summerofwhump #summerofwhump6 #summer of whump 2021 #Prompt: Buried Alive #spiderman #irondad

7 notes · View notes

dahbeez · 4 years

Text

MIRROR CONFESSION

Paring: peter parker x reader

Summary: You’re in love with your best friend, and with the help of his awkward rehearsing, you find out the truth.

Warnings: fluff, language

Word Count: 2.6K

Author Note: English isn’t my first language and this is my first fic here on tumblr! Reader is female unless specified otherwise.

Lately, your friendship with Peter Parker has been the most confusing thing in the world. Well, Peter alone was a mystery most of the time. Sneaking out in the middle of sleepovers, skipping classes and then coming back with bruises that took only a few hours to heal; that was all Spider-Man’s signature, you knew that. Plus, Peter constantly looked around him like he could hear every single conversation in the hallway, every sound and whispers. But you got used to all of it, and you had put two and two together quickly after finding out that he was the infamous web-slinger.

Recently, the way he acted around you had your eyebrows knot together in a frown most of the time, especially since you couldn’t attached his weird behaviour to his alter ego. He would be his normal, nerdy self, rambling about the next Star Wars movie, a Lego puzzle he had yet to build or, the most frequent topic of discussion, the 'Stark Internship'. You would smile up at him, beaming at the constant happiness that seemed to radiate from Peter. Then, as his eyes would meet yours, he would immediately blush and stutter. Of course, Peter was a shy person, which actually made him look even cuter than he already was. But every time he would caught you smiling at him, it’s like he forgot to breathe. And in the next seconds, he would find a reason to escape his feelings and run towards the next class, or whatever else excuse he had in mind in those moments. It left you eyes wide and jaw dropping every times, you being completely obvious to the real meaning behind Peter’s actions.

It didn’t help that you had fallen head over heels in love with your best friend. You were a living cliche teenage girl who was infatuated with her closest friend, and you couldn’t help but feel sad that Peter was avoiding you. Part of it was because you missed your best friend, but the other part was because you couldn’t bare to lose this unique connection you had with your first crush.

Any third party, let’s say Ned, would hit their head against a wall repeatedly at the sight of you two. You were obviously in love with each other’s but also completely obvious to one another’s feelings. Ned had given up long ago on the two of you confessing their feelings, and he simply resumed on looking desperately at his two clueless best friends suppressing their feelings like it was some kind of disease.

"Y/N," Ned’s muffled voice brought you out of your thoughts, his mouth half-full with whatever was on the cafeteria menu today. "You with us?"

"Yeah," you nodded, brushing away a strand of hair that fell from your ponytail, "sorry, I was just thinking."

You then noticed how Peter seemed to have been stuck in a daze just like you, letting his fork mix the food on his plate without taking a bite, and furrowing his eyebrows in deep thought. It also often happened around you, but not when he was just with Ned. It made you rethink about the previous events of the week, trying to find out what you could have possibly done to either make him so flustered or lost in his mind. Had he found one of your tampons at his place? Your cheeks flushed at the possibility, thinking that most guys would be uncomfortable at the discovery of a bloody pad in their bathroom’s trash can.

"I can’t make it tonight, for movie night," Ned continued, not letting Peter’s lack of words and attention affect him. "My mom wants to spend some 'family quality time' or whatever that means."

He groaned and you chuckled, not registering quite yet that Ned’s absence meant that your sleepover at Peter’s would be awkward if the boy kept acting like a stammering mess in front of you.

"That’s a bummer," you sighed, actually a bit disappointed that Ned couldn’t make it. "Guess it’s just you and me, Peter. Peter?"

Ned waved a hand in front of his friend’s face, breaking whatever trance Peter was stuck in. He flinched, eyes peeking up to meet yours and immediately his cheeks flushed pink.

"Earth to Peter, Peter do you copy?," Ned joked, and a hint of a smile ghosted on Peter’s lips before he suddenly grabbed his barely touched tray of food and stood up. You frowned.

"Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m gonna go, I- I have homework to do, uh," he looked around a bit, which gave away his lie as he seemed to pounder what he should say next, "at the library! Yeah, studies you know, big exams coming. Okay, bye."

Both you and Ned were left mouth agape, eyeing the escaping form of your best friend exiting the cafeteria.

"That was weird," you murmured, eyes squinting in the direction Peter had taken after getting rid of his plate. "The library’s literally the opposite way."

Ned shrugged. "Peter’s just weird."

But you couldn’t possibly compare Peter’s usual weird antics to the scene that had just unfolded in front of your eyes. Holding back a huff, you brought your attention back on your other friend, and resumed your lunch break.

***

Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

That seemed to be the only word swirling around Peter’s mind, which would’ve probably made Aunt May and Captain America scold at him if they could hear his thoughts right now.

He groaned internally, gripping the pole tightly as he waited for the subway to bring him closer to his apartment. The rest of the day after lunch break had been filled with his not so subtle attempts to avoid you. And the look of hurt that you sent towards him every time your eyes met in the hallway had his heart beating faster than ever and guilt eating away at his soul.

He had undeniably, harshly, strongly, irrevocably, fallen in love with you.

And he realized quickly that loving you platonically, was not the same as being in love with you. You were gorgeous, one of the smartest person he had met (and his mentor was Tony Stark), kind and generous, and gosh your smile.

His grip tightened on his backpack strap as he exited the subway, walking the few blocks that kept him from his apartment.

Ever since he had realized the true feelings he arbored for you, he had tried to hide them. Which, when you were Peter Parker the open book, wasn’t easy. At all.

He just couldn’t act normal around you anymore, knowing that all he wanted to do was confess his feelings. He wanted to hug you, hold your hands, kiss your cheeks, your nose, your temple, your lips, your jaw, your neck, the valley between your—

Peter’s eyes widened at the filthy thoughts, and he bit his lower lip. All day, and all week, he had been trying to figure out how to confess his feelings for you. Unknowingly, he had shut you out, too deep in thoughts or too embarrassed to keep up the best friend act.

The boy sighed as he walked in his apartment, barely acknowledging May who was making cookies. He was ready to jump on his bed and fall asleep for the rest of his miserable existence. But first, he needed to figure out what to do. And with the nerve wracking idea of finally telling you how he truly felt, Peter looked at his disheveled hair and pink tinted cheeks in the mirror. With a deep breath, he started rehearsing.

***

Unbeknownst to him, you were not so far from his place. You had dropped your schoolbag at your house and gathered your things, determined to go at Peter’s place and find some answers. Plus, he hadn’t called or texted to tell you that your night at his apartment was canceled, which gave you a little bit of hope.

You kept replaying every second spent in his presence in the last few weeks and you couldn’t find a clue on what could have gone wrong between you two. The tampon theory was actually the best explanation at the moment.

Your mom dropped you at his place, noticing how you had filled your backpack to the brim with numerous movies, snacks and clothes for the night and the next day. Grateful, you kissed her cheek before escaping the comfort of the car. For the first time in forever, you were nervous at the perspective of spending the night at Peter’s. Part of it was because of his behaviour, and the other main reason was because of the butterflies and fireworks that erupted in your stomach whenever you got lost in his doe eyes.

"I’ll pick you up tomorrow, honey. Just call me if you need anything!"

Your replied a simple 'see ya' and made your way inside the building.

Knocking at the Parker’s door, you were greeted by one of your favourite human being and the smell of burnt cookies.

"Hey, Y/N," May opened the door and smiled, bringing you into a small hug which you returned immediately.

"Hey, May," you smiled. She led you inside, and you got rid of your shoes, leaving them next to the front door.

"I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever," she deplored, going back to the kitchen and grimacing. You held back a laugh, noticing how the smell of ruined cookies lingered in the air.

"Yeah, uh," you went and grabbed a cookie on the counter, eyeing the black burning snack with doubt, "I missed your cooking."

She raised an eyebrow, amused at your words. You smiled sheepishly and put the cookie back in its plate, knowing that it will probably end up in the trash anyway.

"You don’t know how to lie, honey," she chuckled and grabbed the nearest bowl to clean. "Peter’s in his room."

You gulped and nodded, remembering what you came here for in the first place.

You walked down the small hallway towards your best friend’s room, fist raising in order to knock on its door and announce your presence.

It was already cracked open, you noticed, and you heard your friend’s mumbling through the tin walls. Ned probably made it after all, you thought, pushing the door softly as to not startle them.

The sight in front of you could’ve been either amusing, extremely weird or embarrassing.

Because in the middle of the room, facing the small mirror not so far from his bed, stood your best friend and first ever crush. Fidgeting with his fingers and slightly swaying on his feet, he was talking to himself. No, rehearsing.

"... that doesn’t work," he let out a deep breath, and you stood there, witnessing his nervous rambling. He surprisingly didn’t noticed you despite having his sharp spidey senses. He cleared his throat.

"Okay, uh. Right. So, Y/N," your eyes widened at the mention of your name, but the boy still hadn’t picked on your presence yet, "you are the prettiest— no no, that’s not enough. Uh, you’re gorgeous and funny and super kind, and uh, yeah!— your smile is like, so fucking bright. Erm, you— you’re my favourite person and I love how you ramble about your favourite books and how you always look out for others and put them first, even before yourself. And uh, you’ve always been there for me, always accepted and understood what Spider-Man means to me, and, well, what I’m trying to say is that— that I’m in love with you—"

"What!?"

"AHH!" Peter spun on his heals, turning towards you and tripping over a forgotten pile of clothes on the floor. With another yelp, he fell to the ground, eyes wide with shock and cheeks reddened by surprise and embarrassment. His blush reached his ears, and he sat there, looking in horror at your beet coloured face.

"I, uh, was rehearsing for the— the thing with... well it’s more of a— a presentation kinda thing, you know?"

"You’re in love with me?" you whispered, finally walking past the doorstep and closing the door behind you, trying to keep this conversation private.

Peter couldn’t believe what had just happened. He’d never felt so embarrassed in his life, and fear was eating away at him. What if you rejected him? What if your friendship was ruined because of this? Oh gosh, this was a mistake...

"I, uh, well no?— I mean, yeah," he kept stuttering, pushing himself from the floor and looking around his room, trying to avoid your stare, "but wait, what are you doing here?"

"Sleepover," you answered simply. You let your backpack fall next to his things and started fiddling with your fingers.

"Oh... OH! Fuck, I completely forgot."

You smiled faintly at the teenager who had just unintentionally confessed his feelings for you. You took a few steps towards him, noticing how he let out a shaky breath. Peter gulped. He didn’t know what else to tell you, so he stood frozen, eyes widening some more as you approached him and stopped only when you were a step away from him. You looked up at him, eyes soft and confused. You brushed away the giddy fireworks that danced in your belly with a shuddering sigh.

"Do you really feel that way about me, Peter?" you asked, your voice low and gentle. Both of your hearts were beating fast, and Peter could actually hear yours due to your close proximity and his super powers.

"Yes," he whispered, his warm chocolatey eyes still avoiding your surprised ones. "But, uh, I know you probably don’t feel the same way... fuck, forget I said anything. Gosh, I’m so sorry, I ruined—"

The thought of how cliche the situation may looked like from a third point of vue crossed your mind, but you didn’t care. You leaned forward, stopping Peter’s rambling with your lips on his own soft ones. He let out a gasp, his sentence dying in his throat as he fluttered his eyelids shut. Without a doubt, he started kissing you back, head tilting so your noses would stop bumping against each other’s.

You hummed appreciatively as his lips glided over yours, moving in sync. You raised your hands and intertwined them at the back of his neck, fiddling with the small curls of hair that rested there. He let out a moan at the feeling, blushing at the sound that escaped his lips and hit yours. You smiled, and in that moment, Peter decided that kissing you, feeling you smile against him and tasting your apple flavoured chapstick was the best thing in the world. His hands rested on your hips, and the distance between you was inexistant, yet still filled with the innocence of a couple’s first kiss.

"You love me back," he mumbled against your lips in bewilderment, pulling back slightly to take a few gulps of air. You did the same, eyes gazing into his as he finally got the courage to look into yours.

"I do," you answered breathlessly, eyes sparkling at the sight of your best friend, well, hopefully not a friend anymore. Peter blushed at the meaning behind those two words, and you giggled. "Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?"

He looked sheepishly at the ground, removing his hands from your hips so he could wash the nervous sweat away by brushing his palms over his jeans.

"Yeah... I— I didn’t know how to tell you."

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at the shy boy that you hoped you could call yours.

"So, you decided to confess to your mirror?" you teased him, and he winced at the cringe situation he put himself into.

"It’s— it’s not like that, I was rehearsing..." he tried to explain, a cute pout showing on his lips. You let out another giggle.

"Well," you brought a hand back up to his hair, going through the wild curls gently. Peter could feel himself melt under your touch, "I’m glad you did, because I’m in love with you too, Peter Parker."

135 notes · View notes

joyful-soul-collector · 4 years

Text

Misser Star’

By @joyful-soul-collector for @wh0doyouthinkyouareiam!

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Helen Cho

Summary:

“Woah there Sea Legs,” Tony said, catching him under the arms and setting him up straight. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.” “The sea is in my legs,” Peter said, clinging tight to Tony’s arm as he wobbled slightly. “What if my legs… were in the sea?” “Oh wow--this is going to be fun.”

Peter gets his wisdom teeth taken out, and is a very silly lad

Story is under the cut, or you can read it on AO3!

Irondad Tag List: @phahbiyah @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @clevermuffinalmondpeach @stuck-in-a-fictional-universe @canonismybitch @freckledmountain @not-your-housekeeper98 @misskirkstark @iron-loyalty

Lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the tag list!

“Misser Star’, there’s clouds i’ m’ mouth,” Peter mumbled around the cotton, staring at Tony with wide eyes. Tony laughed and pulled Peter’s hand away from his mouth, as he was trying to touch the “clouds”.

“Don’t mess with those, you need them to stop the bleeding,” Tony said with a small laugh.

“I’m bleeding!?” Peter said incredulously. Then he suddenly gasped and grabbed Tony’s arm, a panicked look on his face. “Do they know!?”

“Know what kid?” Peter looked around dramatically then yanked Tony’s arm closer so he could whisper in his ear.

“That I’m a spider,” he said. Tony snorted and gently worked his arm out of Peter’s death-grip.

“You’re good, kid. You’re at the compound, Helen was the one who operated on you. You remember Helen?”

“Karen?”

“No, Helen--”

“She’s my suit lady, she’s nice. But she can’t do tooth stuff Misser Star’--”

“No, kid, Helen was the one who did the work on your teeth, she’s a doctor--”

“I know who Helen is,” Peter said, as if Tony had told him this information several times before. Tony rolled his eyes and ruffled Peter’s hair, only to laugh when Peter raised his head and leaned into his touch, eyes slipping closed with bliss. He was like a little kitten, leaning into someone scratching behind its ear.

In fact he leaned so far he almost fell over, and Tony had to catch him by the shoulder, snorting at the panicked look on Peter’s face.

“Jesus, Dr. Cho gave you the Good Stuff didn’t she?”

“Had to, it was the only thing his metabolism wouldn’t immediately burn through,” Helen said, making Tony jump. “You two are alright to leave now, just make sure Peter doesn’t take that cotton out too early and give him some ice when the medicine wears off.”

“Thanks Doc,” Tony said. Peter made a noise of confusion and pointed at Helen.

“She’s not Doc Ock, Misser Star’! He has way more arms, and she’s way prettier,” Peter said. “I think you need new glasses.”

“I don’t even need glasses in the first place, kiddo,” Tony said with a snort, signing a couple papers Helen handed him.

“Oh yeah!? Then what are those!?” Peter said, pointing directly at the square sunglasses perched on Tony’s nose. Tony raised his eyebrows at him, the determined look on Peter’s face making it hard not to laugh.

“Sunglasses, not normal glasses,” Tony said, then he held out his arm. “Here lemme walk you back to the living quarters, I’m fairly certain you’re not gonna make it there yourself.”

“Why does the sun even need glasses?” Peter muttered as he pushed himself off the hospital bed, and almost immediately toppling over.

“Woah there Sea Legs,” Tony said, catching him under the arms and setting him up straight. “Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself.”

“The sea is in my legs,” Peter said, clinging tight to Tony’s arm as he wobbled slightly. “What if my legs… were in the sea?”

“Oh wow--this is going to be fun,” Tony said, steadying Peter as he stumbled down the hallway to the elevator.

Peter babbled on and on about random stuff on their way to the living quarters, Tony having to physically restrain him from pressing all the buttons in the elevator, and had to answer his questions about extremely odd yet mundane things like “why is the ceiling in the sky?” only for him to forget what he asked entirely.

When they finally arrived, Tony walked him to the couch and sat him down, and Peter immediately curled himself into a ball, knees tucked under his chin.

“Alright kid, you wait here while I call your Aunt and let her know everything went good, alright?” Tony said.

“Wait here,” Peter repeated, with a determined nod. “Waiting waiting waiting. Like a rock.”

At this point Tony had absolutely no clue what Peter was talking about so he just said “Sure, kiddo”, and ruffled his hair before he stepped away for a few minutes.

“Hey, Tony,” May said when she answered. “How’s he doin’?”

“He’s alright, pretty damn loopy but fine,” Tony said, leaning against the wall of the hallway. “I’m glad you came to me about this, I was right, a normal anaesthetic wouldn’t have stood a chance against his enhanced metabolism.”

May chuckled and Tony could hear the bustle of the hospital in the background.

“I don’t know what we’d do without you Tony,” she said. “Thank you so much--Oh, shoot, I gotta go--”

“No problem, May, I’ll take care of him till you get off work. Just call me when you’re done, I’ll drive him over,” Tony said. May thanked him at least ten times before hanging up, and Tony chuckled to himself, slipping the phone in his pocket.

“Misser Staaaaaaar’?” Peter’s voice said from around the corner. It had a rather guilty tone to it, and Tony quickly rounded the corner to see him.

Peter seemed to have tried to grab a blanket, and in the process, had gotten himself rather tangled in it, now lying horizontally on the couch and staring up at Tony with a wide-eyed expression.

“Got tangled in your own web, huh Spiderling?” Tony said, smiling down at him. “Probably for your own good anyway. Might just leave you like that so you don’t get yourself in more trouble.”

Peter frowned indignantly at him, and suddenly started trying to wiggle himself into an upright position, since clearly Tony was just gonna leave him to die like this. Tony rolled his eyes and helped him sit up, but as soon as he tried to get him untangled, Peter leaned away, looking confused.

“What?” Tony said.

“I’m a burrito Misser Star’,” Peter mumbled, snuggling himself further into the blanket. “Spider-Burrito. Or Spider-Sushi. Or Spider-Ravioli. Or--”

“Spiders In A Blanket?” Tony suggested, and Peter’s eyes got wide.

“Oh my god--I’m a spider, and I’m in a blanket!” Peter whisper-screamed. Then he burst into laughter, throwing his head back against the soft cushions of the couch so fast Tony thought he might give himself whiplash.

“Jesus--Just you existing scares me kiddo,” Tony muttered, deciding tv would probably be the best distraction. Just as long as it isn’t a comedy. Kid might break his neck, Tony thought. It’s a good thing Luke Skywalker isn’t played by Jim Carrey.

Peter stopped laughing immediately as the Star Wars theme began to play, though his loud, comical gasp proved it wasn’t just the medicine wearing off.

“I LOVE STAR WARS!” Peter shouted, making Tony jump.

“Jesus christ--I know ya dork,” Tony said, watching Peter bounce excitedly in his seat on the couch for a moment before sitting next to him. Peter flumped into Tony’s side, giving a deep, dramatic sigh of contentment. Tony couldn’t help but give him a little one-armed squeeze; he knew how much Peter loved hugs.

Though he couldn’t expect Peter to be silent for more than a few minutes, now could he?

“Hey Misser Star’?” Peter said.

“Hey Misser Parker?” Tony said, imitating Peter’s tone and voice.

“What if I was hungry?” he said, either ignoring or completely oblivious to Tony’s teasing.

“Um, I would get you something to eat? I think there’s some soup I could warm up for you,” Tony said, looking down at Peter with raised eyebrows. Peter looked skeptical at the idea of soup however.

“Mmm, but what if I’m only hungry for something cold?” he said.

“Uh… you want a smoothie?”

“Something sweet and cold.”

“Smoothies can be sweet.”

“Something chocolate and sweet and cold,” Peter said impatiently. Tony rolled his eyes and looked down at Peter, who put on a very mischievous grin. He sighed in defeat. He just couldn’t say no to that silly face.

“Your Aunt’s gonna kill me when she finds out,” Tony said, getting up with a groan.

“No she won’t! I’ll protect you! I’m Spider-Man!” Peter said, trying to take his hands out of his cocoon/burrito, but only succeeding in tangling himself more. Tony snorted, dragging a tub of chocolate ice cream out of the freezer and scooping some out into a couple bowls. By the time he came back Peter had freed his arms and was rubbing his hands over the fluffy blanket, muttering to himself. Tony helped him take the gauze out of his mouth, which had a surprisingly small amount of blood on it, as it seems his enhanced healing had taken care of it.

Peter ate his ice cream happily, eyes closing with bliss.

“Ice cream is my best friend,” Peter said around his spoon. “‘Cept for Ned. And MJ. They’re better than ice cream, but ice cream is like… real good friendo. Ten outta ten, would go to the movies with ice cream.”

“Ha, me too kid,” Tony said, scraping the last remnants out before setting aside his bowl to focus better on the movie. He never cared much for Star Wars, but he couldn’t deny that the fight scenes were pretty awesome. Peter eventually nudged him with his bowl to say he was finished, and then went back to his original position against Tony’s side.

It wasn’t until the movie was over that Tony realized Peter had fallen asleep like that, curled up tightly in the blanket, his face pressed into Tony’s chest. Tony ran his fingers through Peter’s hair for a moment, smiling as Peter relaxed even further against him.

“You caught all that, right Fri?” Tony said, glancing up at the ceiling.

“Of course Boss,” Friday replied. “Shall I send you the file for you to view later?”

“That’d be perfect. If there’s anything that’ll be more hilarious than Peter getting stuck in a blanket, it’ll be how red his face gets when he sees himself getting stuck in a blanket.”

Peter didn’t even wake up as Tony lifted him off the couch and down the hall to his room. He whined a little when Tony laid him on his bed, but was quickly consoled by Tony’s fingers running through his hair again.

“Goodnight ‘Spider-Burrito.’”

#irondad #irondad fanfiction #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #spider-man #Iron Man #the friendly neighborhood exchange #Marko's Fanfiction

111 notes · View notes

faecaptainofdreams · 4 years

Photo

"Like with drugs?" "No, Tiffany...! I mean...intimately..." "...Oh wow..." "Yeah..." "You find weird stuff on his phone or somethin'?" "No, I don't go through his things." "The way he's been acting lately, maybe you should." "Mm. No, I just don't think that's right." "So why you think he's gay?" "HAHhah I didn't say gay, I said experimenting." "Yeah, to know if he's gay!" "Shh, not so loud...! And it could be a number of things." "Semantics, girl." "Okay. Well last night his friend Ned came over. He and Peter were gonna build one of their little lego things together, and I didn't even know Peter was home. So I let Ned in, and he just went and hung out in Peter's room for a little while. And I was trying to make that gross meatloaf--" "The turkey one?" "Yes..." "Eugh, I learned a long time ago to stop taking recipes from Cheryl." "Yeah, I think I'm done, too. Anyway, I must've been just...SUPER distracted with it, because somehow Peter came home and snuck right past me! Like a little ninja, these days. So I messed up the meatloaf, and -- I didn't think to knock or anything, because I figured it was just Ned in there, so I open the door and there's Peter. Him and Ned were just standing there, and he was in his underwear...!" "Ned??" "No, Peter." "Ohh..." "Mm-hm. They looked kind of...horrified? Maybe mortified is the better word, I don't know, but I didn't say anything; I just kinda...looked at them for a minute." "Oh my god..." "I know. Since I ruined dinner, I asked if they wanted Thai food, and Peter randomly made up this vague little excuse for Ned to go home. I didn't even question it, I just let him go and me and Peter went out for dinner." "Uh-huh... So... Your nephew and his little buddy were sneakin' around in the bedroom, you walk in on em and Peter's in his underwear, he makes his friend go home... Did you say anything at all?" "Nope, not a word." "Maybelle!" "What?" "Obviously he needs to talk!" "No, he doesn't! I mean -- maybe he does, but... He's going through a lot right now, you know? Besides, he's a teenager, this sort of thing is...kinda normal, so I don't wanna embarrass him. He knows I'm here for him." "Hm... Nah, I'd be talkin' to my kids if that was me." "I think most people would, but I... Honestly, I barely have half a clue what I'm doing. Ever since Ben died, he's gotten harder and harder to talk to. I'm afraid everything I say is just...pushing him away." "Aw, now, you can't give up on him, though." "I'm not. I'm just...concerned. He's stressing about school, he's still putting up with that awful boy, Flash, the internship has him all in his head, he still hasn't grieved over Ben, he won't go to therapy; he's only fifteen..." "Throw puberty in on top of all of this and you have yourself one unhappy kid, I guess." "Yeah, and I don't want to make it worse. If he's...curious about himself, then I think it's best if I just give him his space." "To be fair, Peter ain't as dumb as my kids, so he'll probably be smart about it." "I hope so... Hm, you know it's kind of sweet. That he was with Ned, I mean." "Why?" "Oh, I don't know, I guess because... Well... I know Peter doesn't have any other friends -- that I'm aware of -- but Ned is... I mean he's cute, don't get me wrong, and a very nice boy! But he's..." "Fat?" "Tiffany." "What? He's hefty! Ain't nothin' wrong with it." "Well and that's my point! If him and Peter really were fooling around, I just think it's sweet that that obviously didn't bother Peter...! Just...tells me a little about his character." "...Aww, you're right about that. Ya gotta love a man who doesn't see weight." "Amen... Okay, just had to tell you that. Otherwise, I genuinely don't want to think about this part of his livelihood anymore...!" ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- May, working at a homeless shelter, confides in her friend (OC), Tiffany. Just bs'd some stuff because i really wanted a reason to talk about this scene in the movie. (Tom Holland is sex on legs, we all know this; i thirst for him, not Peter at 15, though.) I mean...kids DO THIS STUFF sometimes and it's totally normal and i can't help but think this is the first thing May might have thought of when she saw Peter...like this. Alone. With Ned... XD I find it very endearing and have a massive boner for older people accepting and respecting boundaries while also being super progressive ^u^ Hope this wasn't creepy, i meant it all in good nature and innocence <3

#mcu #marvel #tom holland #ned leeds #peter parker #may parker #spiderman

41 notes · View notes

louloubarnes-99 · 3 years

Text

Darcy the Librarian part 1

Darcy x Steve x Bucky nsfw (eventually! omg)

this is 7k 🥰✨

“Casey, I’ve read this sentence six times.”

Darcy pulled the earphones out and gave the younger woman her full attention. The poor thing was shrugging helplessly, her hand covering the mouthpiece of the landline receiver.

“It’s Ned, I’m sorry –”

Darcy took the phone, swapping seats with her, putting the phone to her ear as she tried to remedy the situation.

“Hello, Ned? It’s Darcy.”

The man on the other end was already yelling, sounding frustrated.

“Hello? Can I – Am I calling the foot doctor? Hello?”

“Ned! I don’t think you can hear me! It’s Darcy. Hello? Ned?”

“Darcy?”

“Yes, it’s Darcy,” she half-yelled, giving Casey a thumbs-up. “You’ve got an appointment with us tomorrow at 11. We’ll see you then!”

“Eleven?” Ned repeated. “Okay. I’ll see ya.”

Darcy hung up and she let out a low sigh, swapping seats with Casey again. She glanced at the clock, then at the screen in front of her. It was mid-morning at the podiatry clinic, both of the receptionists on duty running steadily through the routine. Darcy had been writing another letter to be sent out for auditing purposes, and if it was her working alone she’d be doing them in her sleep. She’d had plenty of dreams of her writing reports and doing work that was piling up and up. Today she was training Casey, reviewing what she’d already written, listening to the Dictaphone, her boss’ voice in her ear.

“Please confirm Ned’s appointment, Casey. The right-click, yeah…”

Casey sat back, giving a little smile when she was done. She was beginning to remember everything, and Darcy could remember that distinct relief. That Thank God something’s finally going right kind of feeling. She didn’t want to burst her bubble, but she found several errors in the letter Casey had typed out.

“No, it’s hyperkeratosis,” she said, picking up her pencil and crossing out the spelling mistake. She tried not to see Casey’s face fall. “And onychauxic.”

She handed it back to Casey, standing up.

“All good. Just fix those and we’ll send it off. I’m going on my break.”

She patted Casey’s shoulder and stepped away, walking down the corridor to the break room, seeing Patrick sitting at the table with his sandwich in his hands.

“Hey,” he mumbled, mouth full. “She doing okay?”

Darcy made a so-so movement with her hand. She hoped he’d keep that to himself, since Casey was his wife’s little cousin. Patrick was the podiatrist, and probably the best boss Darcy had ever had. He was at least one of the friendliest ones she’d had, pulling out the chair beside him for her to sit down with her yoghurt she retrieved from the fridge.

“She’s fine,” she amended, pulling up the chair as she sat down, the legs scraping across the linoleum. “You can tell Linda she’s doing a great job.”

Patrick gave a little chuckle, shaking his head. “I swear, I won’t bring another one like her in again, I like you too much.”

“Well, maybe not so much when I abandon you at 5.30.”

She was referring to what she’d already reminded him of twice that day. She needed to leave a little early tonight because Ian asked her to that morning when she jumped out of bed. Her boyfriend didn’t ask her to do that often, to come home early, unless it was a special occasion. She had already read into it enough to start thinking about engagement announcements. She didn’t want to call her mother but she knew she’d be the first one of her family to know. She hoped Ian didn’t cry too much, because Darcy knew she would when he got down on one knee. She always liked hearing how other people got together, even when people said “oh we met online”. She wanted to ask what exactly drew people to one another.

She took a spoonful of her yogurt and shoved it into her mouth, smirking at Patrick.

“How’d you and Linda meet?”

“Group of friends, mutual friends at a bar,” he murmured, looking away. He blinked. “Christ. I think about that time, all the uncertainty, and now…”

He’d been married several years. Darcy didn’t necessarily like Linda very much, since she was perpetually condescending and always acted like work was what kept Patrick from her, and therefore Darcy was in part to blame, but she thought Patrick seemed happy with her.

Also he’d paid for her boob job last year, not that they ever spoke about it, but Darcy more than noticed those things when she was at his fortieth birthday party last year.

“I feel like we’ve been married longer than we’ve known each other,” he murmured. “I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“I get it,” Darcy said, ducking her head, smiling. “Me and Ian met seven years ago, and I can’t remember life without him. I don’t remember how I used to feel. It’s so weird.”

Patrick nodded, finishing his next mouthful.

“I was a kid when I met him,” she added, rolling her eyes. “How’d you propose?”

“Didn’t really, sort of decided it together,” Patrick murmured. “I didn’t get down on one knee, it was after – uh…”

Darcy watched his face change, his cheeks flushing, and she began to chuckle.

“Yeah, we were both in a really good mood, you could say.”

“Right,” Darcy said, laughing. “Good to know.”

They lapsed into silence and Patrick nodded, chewing. He finished the rest of his food and balled up the plastic wrapping to throw away, checking his watch.

“I better get back.”

“Yeah,” Darcy said. “I’ll be right out.”

He paused at the sink after he washed his hands, drying them on the towel that hung over the oven handle.

“Hey, congratulations, when it does happen,” he said, and Darcy looked up.

He was smiling at her and she returned it, feeling a familiar warmth in her stomach.

“Thanks, Pat,” she murmured.

He left her there and she watched him leave. Unable to truly be professional, her eyes fell to his rear as he went out the door. He wore forty well. She knew his schedule, she knew what he ate for the most part, and she knew that he worked out. If she met him on the street, she’d think he was some kind of sports psychologist or physical therapist if he told her he was a doctor. His clientele was mostly elderly people, the majority of them diabetic, and feet was the last thing that came to mind where Patrick was concerned.

Darcy’s best friend Jane had the pleasure of meeting him once last year, grinning at him like she couldn’t stop herself, and ever since then he was Hot Doctor, or Hot Boss when she and Darcy spoke on the phone.

He was very handsome, and very kind to Darcy, considering how much shit she put him through for the first six months she was there. The office manager had quit, the archives were a mess, and Darcy wasn’t going to put up with it. She drew a line in the sand and fixed so much, and made sure it wouldn’t be so disorganized ever again. It had happened soon after she finished her library studies diploma, and she’d been hoping to use her new qualification somewhere else, but she still got to flex her diligent cataloging skills from time to time.

She returned to the front desk five minutes later, after sending Jane a text:

I think Ian is proposing tonight

She couldn’t keep the thrill from coursing through her, grabbing her bag from under the desk with her phone. She smiled at Casey.

The waiting room had an elderly couple waiting, the Needlers, who both rose their hands to wave goodbye to her as she slipped out down the corridor.

She stuck her head in Patrick’s office, seeing him throw out a plastic sheet, preparing for the next client. She knocked on the doorframe and he spun around.

“You’re gone?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I have my phone in case, y’know… something blows up. Or if Casey blows something up.”

“Have a good night,” he said, and she smiled. “I’ll have a beer in your honor.”

She laughed, turning away and walked out, her stomach flipping. On the drive over, she tried to keep herself calm, but she kept bopping along to the songs on the radio. She kept watching the people in the street. She saw a couple with their toddler in a stroller with a dog on a leash.

She could picture it. A few years ago she’d have rolled her eyes at such a suggestion – her, as a married woman with a kid? But now she’d settled into the podiatrist clinic, she could feel things were stable enough. It wasn’t so crazy. People fell in love all the time, and stayed together...

She pulled up at the apartment block, switching off the car, taking a few deep breaths. She got out and walked up, seeing kids playing in the street.

She paused in the hallway, taking out her deodorant to spritz as subtly as she could. It was August, and her A/C was still broken – she was saving up – and she didn’t want any memory of the proposal to be tainted by her body odor. She stuck the can back in her bag and unlocked the front door, stepping inside and looking around.

“Hi!”

She was tempted to yell out “honey, I’m home” but she was so excited she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, and Ian appeared a few seconds later, his hands in his pockets as she moved down the hallway.

She moved to kiss him on the cheek and he took out a hand, touching her arm.

“I got here as quick as possible. Patrick wasn’t too swamped, thank fuck…”

She gave a little laugh, taking his hand in hers, their fingers twining together. He walked with her in silence, until they reached the living room, and he promptly let her go, gesturing to the person sitting on the couch.

“Darcy, you remember Amy.”

Amy was a petite blonde woman, her hair so light it was almost white. She wore a pastel pink dress, looking like she’d come straight from a garden party. Darcy tried to place her and finally did – she was a friend of theirs through Ian’s sister. She flashed a wide smile, and Darcy watched as Ian moved to sit beside Amy.

“Hi,” Darcy said, shaking her head a little to right herself, trying not to feel the disappointment begin to settle in. She’d completely mistaken this occasion. It was unusual that he didn’t tell her it was Amy coming over. She felt like she’d be better prepared.

She froze as Ian’s hand slipped down to rest on Amy’s thigh, squeezing it.

“Could you sit down, Darce?”

“What’s going on?” she said, staring at his hand. She looked at Amy, seeing her smile falter.

Ian turned his head to look at Amy.

“Darling, could you get her a glass of water?”

Amy nodded, standing up. Darcy gaped after her. She knew where the glasses were in her apartment.

“I was hoping we’d talk about it like adults,” Ian said, his voice soft.

She snapped her eyes to meet his.

“I appreciate you getting here quickly tonight.”

Amy returned with a glass of water, handing it to Darcy. She held it, staring at Ian and Amy on the couch.

“Sit down.”

“I don’t want to take this sitting down,” Darcy blurted. “Whatever this is.”

“I’m moving out,” Ian said, his tone changing. He was edging toward defensive. “I thought it was better that way. I’m moving into Amy’s place.”

She woke up this morning with a completely different person. At least, it felt that way. Darcy could feel she’d gone into shock, unable to feel much at all as he went on in his English lilt.

“I’ll come by when you’re at work, to take my things. We started packing this afternoon.”

Darcy studied Amy’s hand resting in her lap, her nails squared off and clean.

“How long has this been happening?”

Ian stopped mid-sentence, something about an internet bill that Darcy had tuned out. He blinked, clearing his throat.

“Uh, I suppose about eighteen months.”

She let out a breath, looking down at the glass in her hand.

“Okay.”

“I know it’s hard to hear –”

“You don’t know how it feels to hear this,” Darcy said, looking up again, staring him down. “You have no idea.”

She hadn’t been cheated on before. She’d seen her mother go through it.

“Those trips, the ones to California?” she asked, looking at Amy.

The blonde nodded. “Yes.”

“Well,” Darcy murmured, finally putting the glass to her lips to drink, unblinking. “That makes sense.”

He had a West Coast franchise she knew nothing about. She let out a harsh little chuckle, only because it was the only other thing she could do instead of crying. She felt her eyes prickle.

“We’ll go,” Ian said, glancing at Amy.

In that moment, Darcy truly hated them both. She wasn’t sure who she’d attack first if there were no repercussions. Ian would be harder to overpower, since he had the reach of a basketball player. Attacking Amy would be satisfying if she managed to make her scream. She looked elf-like in her features, except for the ample cleavage she had partially hidden beneath her dress.

He was her type, then. Little and curved in all the right places. Except she seemed to be daintier than Darcy ever could be, moving off the couch gracefully, moving into the corridor.

Ian lingered, and Darcy clutched the glass a little tighter, glaring at him.

“Darcy, I know it’s not right –”

“It’s not,” Darcy bit out.

“- but I wanted to be honest.”

Why couldn’t he have broken up with her months ago, years ago? She thought of the last time they had sex and it had another dimension to it – he’d teared up at the time, and she thought he was in one of his rare overwhelmed moments. At the time, she’d comforted him, thinking he’d be embarrassed by being overcome with love.

He’d been crying because he felt guilty.

“So when you came inside me the other night –”

Ian’s eyes widened slightly and she hoped Amy heard every word.

“- you didn’t think that was the ideal time to be honest?”

“Darcy –”

“Whatever, you’re in love. You don’t want anyone to think you’re an asshole,” she muttered, scowling at him. “But are an asshole, Ian. You’re an asshole.”

He drew back, his jaw set. He let out a sigh.

“Fine, I’m gone.”

“Go,” she snapped, and she turned away, doing her best to suppress the sob that bubbled up.

When she heard the front door shut and she knew she was alone, she let out a gasp, the echoing quiet of the apartment haunting her. She put down the water and sunk to the floor, putting her face in her hands.

She spent the night looking back on seven years, wondering when he decided to betray her. She tried to think of a moment that was the catalyst. Was it when they moved in together? Eighteen months ago she was at the podiatrist clinic. Ian was working for the investment firm.

She remembered they told each other they were soulmates. She’d never been closer to someone in her entire life.

He’d hardly spoken to Amy the night they met her. It was his sister’s engagement party and she was a random stranger in the background, someone Darcy had never thought she should note. Ian was her person, and she was his.

Amy?

She hardly slept, crying and fuming, rolling around, so alone. She wanted a time machine. She wanted ignorance. She wanted to find the moment when he switched. She still wanted him, despite how confused and furious she felt.

How had she not seen this coming? Had he hinted at it, ever? Had he laid clues somewhere for her to find? She’d never suspected it. He was always such a dork, he had no ability to flirt with anyone but her in his clumsy, awkward way.

She dragged herself down to the clinic and opened up for the morning, feeling puffy-eyed and exhausted. She heard Patrick come in and walk up behind her like he did every day, and she thought of what to say, every option sounding so humiliating and stupid.

“Hi,” she murmured, unable to force the smile. “Your files are there for the morning.”

Her voice was rough and she cleared her throat. She kept her eyes on the screen, pulling up the emails. She began scrolling and heard Patrick pick up the stack of files.

“Bit of a rush today?”

“Yeah,” she replied, nodding. She was thankful that he wasn’t asking her anything personal. He sounded subdued.

She turned around, seeing him search her face and she smiled, a little one that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Ned Campbell will probably run late. His daughter’s meant to pick him up and she’s in Buffalo.”

“I’ll try to work around it,” Patrick replied, and he gave a little smile of his own. “Get yourself a coffee, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m on it,” she said, standing up fast, walking out before he could say anything else.

She covered her mouth as she waited for the coffee to pour through the machine. She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue when she returned to her desk, hearing the first clients come in.

“Shelly, hi,” she called to the little old lady. “You didn’t bring Buffy!”

Buffy was her dog. Shelly waved at Darcy, shaking her head.

“Too hot in the car. And on the pavement, too…”

“Right, that’s a good call,” Darcy said.

She was able to lapse into the role soon enough, except every half an hour or so she’d come back to the realization that last night was not a dream and she’d blink up at the ceiling. It was harder when Casey came in, fifteen minutes late, her smile dropping when she saw no ring on Darcy’s finger.

“Bummer,” she said. “I brought you prosecco.”

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” Darcy said, waving her off. “We… we broke up, actually.”

Casey’s eyes bulged and she scooted closer to Darcy, her mouth falling open.

“No! Why? What happened?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Darcy said, and she went back to the paperwork in the pile next to her, scanning the text. “We need to work on this letter together.”

She took her lunch break later than usual, but she wasn’t able to avoid Patrick, since Casey passed on the bad news. His eyes were trained on her as she slipped into the chair next to him.

“Are you alright, Darcy?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“I don’t need to go home,” she murmured.

She opened her yogurt and scooped some out, taking a mouthful. It tasted too sweet. In truth, she wanted a stiff drink, but this would have to do for now. She realized she hadn’t answered his question.

“I’ll be okay,” she added.

“Are you sure?” Patrick asked, and he looked toward the doorway. “We could manage, if you want to go…”

“I’ll stay,” she said, patting his hand on the table. “I might even stay back, there’s shit to do.”

Her cursing always made him smile at her and he didn’t disappoint. They ate in silence, until Darcy heard Casey calling for her, sounding out of sorts.

The rest of the afternoon flew by, and Darcy sent Casey home, telling her she’d do the end of day banking and paperwork. Casey gave her a little sympathetic hug that made Darcy want to shove her away, but instead she patted her shoulder twice before they drew apart.

“You know, if you need someone to talk to, I’m always here,” Casey whispered. “I’m the one all my girlfriends talk to.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks,” Darcy murmured, trying her best to grin and bear it.

Casey held up the little bottle of prosecco, enough for two drinks, handing it to Darcy.

“Thanks,” Darcy said again.

When she was finally alone she let her head fall onto the desk, hitting it there a couple times, sighing when she sat up again. She grabbed the prosecco, twisting it open and put it to her lips, taking a long gulp. She added up the cash in the till, taking sips from the little bottle, moving steadily through the work.

“Hey, Darce?”

Patrick was calling to her from down the corridor and she stopped midway through shutting down her computer.

“Yeah?”

He didn’t answer and she frowned, ducking down to grab her belongings, snatching her prosecco before trudging down the corridor, stepping into his office.

Patrick was sitting back in his chair, a beer open, his sleeves pushed down to his elbows. His eyes fell to Darcy’s bottle and he smirked.

“Glad to see I’m not the only one who can drink on the job,” he murmured.

“Yeah.”

She walked in, throwing her bag on the floor as she sat in the special chair, putting her bottle to her lips again. Technically, neither of them were working.

“How long will you stay back?” she asked, Patrick’s back to her once more as he opened his emails up again, scrolling down.

He gave a little shrug. “I dunno. Don’t really want to go.”

He clicked off, turning again, and Darcy watched him move closer, looking at her sneakers. She’d replaced her kitten heels with them, since no-one was meant to be impressed by her after 5PM, at least no clients.

She nodded, thinking of having to drag herself back to the empty apartment, to see the photos on the shelves and the two sets of everything all over the place. Ian had left his toothbrush in his hurry yesterday, and that morning she’d contemplated scrubbing the toilet bowl with it and not telling him.

“I don’t wanna go home,” she whispered.

Patrick got up and Darcy stared at him, sitting back in the chair as he moved toward her, his hand coming up…

“Darcy –”

“What’re you doing?” she cut in, and she felt his hand touching her face, tracing her cheekbone.

He’d never come this close to her before. She’d given him a hug before, like at his birthday party, but this felt like something beyond a platonic touch. He was watching her, licking his lips nervously.

“We could maybe – I thought, I-I…”

“Patrick,” she whispered, and he lowered his face to meet hers, pulling her into an embrace.

She felt his lips brush against her neck and she went still.

“Patrick. Pat. Honey –”

“God, I want you,” he breathed, and he drew back, searching her face. “I think you and Ian breaking up was a sign, for me to finally do something…”

“What are you talking about? Since when?” Darcy said, her eyes widening.

“Since always,” he said, and he kissed her, a peck on the lips.

Darcy’s face felt hot and she felt like she couldn’t breathe, her heart racing as he kissed her again, deeper, his tongue pressing into her mouth as he moaned.

“I love you,” he breathed, pulling back, and Darcy shook her head.

“You don’t love me,” she whispered.

“Yes, I do,” he said, and he kissed her neck, moving down.

Darcy kept still as his hand went under her skirt, reaching between her thighs, and she was pulled back the second his fingers brushed the seam of her, over the crotch of her underwear.

“I have to go,” she yelped, and she pushed him against his chest, stumbling off the chair and grabbing her bag from the floor.

“Darcy, can we talk about this?” he said, and she shook her head. He was sitting on the floor, reality catching up with him, too. “Oh, fuck…”

He passed a hand over his face and Darcy closed her eyes to steady herself.

“I won’t come in tomorrow,” she said, and he nodded.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said, and she nodded, just trying to get out the door, inching toward it. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“Please don’t,” Darcy breathed, and she ducked out, feeling the blood rushing in her ears as she fled, the door slamming behind her.

She got to her car and slammed the door shut, breathing heavily as she tried to understand what the fuck had just happened. And she felt, beneath it all, that she was turned on.

“Oh, God,” she gasped, putting her face in her hands, letting her face rest on the steering wheel.

She tried to think of what to do, her mind going to that office, picturing racing back in and confronting Patrick by climbing on top of him and kissing him. The last 24 hours had been hell, and she might be lonely enough to do that – but she knew, not even deep down, that she’d hate herself for it. He was married, for fuck’s sake.

“Oh, God,” she said again with a groan.

She shoved the keys in the ignition and took off down the street, flipping through the channels on her radio until she found a song she knew.

She began to sob as she sat at the traffic lights, Angel Of The Morning unable to drown her out. A woman stared as she crossed the road, since Darcy made such a racket. She cranked up the speakers louder, her car shuddering with the bass.

She bought a frozen pizza and a giant family-sized Caesar salad, before stopping by the liquor store, where she grabbed two cold 40s and retreated to her apartment. She drank and ate while she watched Love Actually and cat videos, growing more miserable the drunker she got.

She fumbled for her phone the following morning, her head throbbing with the hangover headache she sustained, and she saw Jane was FaceTiming her as she squinted down blearily at her phone.

“Hey – what the fuck, what happened to you?”

“I guess the radio silence could, um, be a red flag,” Darcy mumbled, rubbing her eyes. She didn’t remember taking her makeup off, so there was a high chance that she was resembling a raccoon.

Jane looked good, the sun in her hair, her brow furrowed with concern.

“Uh, Ian left me. And my boss tried to hook up with me,” Darcy said, and Jane’s eyes bulged.

“Oh, Darcy. Darcy –”

“I don’t want the –” Darcy waved around, the movement a terrible idea in her condition. “- fuss. I’m fine. I drank too much last night, but I’ve got the day off.”

Thinking about having to make herself go back tomorrow had her filled with dread so sudden and shame-filled that she shut her eyes, groaning.

“You should get another job.”

“Yeah, probably,” she muttered. “But where? I don’t have any references.”

“Put me down.”

“I can’t keep doing that. I helped you out one summer. I need Patrick…”

Jane’s lips were pressed together in a thin, grim line. Darcy hated that she tended to only hear about her problems, never good news. She hoped she’d be telling her she was going to be her Maid of Honor. That hopeful, pleasant little world felt so far away. Darcy sighed.

“I’ll ask around. Some places are trying to hire new librarians for the new school year. They’re going back soon.”

“Right,” Darcy said, but she didn’t think much would come from it.

She was a qualified technician with limited experience. She didn’t know the right people, and she knew it was all about networking. She learned that far too late, which was how she ended up at Patrick’s office instead of in a library.

“Seriously, I’ll check for you. Ian left…?”

“He did, he went to stay with his girlfriend.”

“What?” Jane snapped, appalled. “Since when would he -? That fucking weasel –”

“It’s Amy, his sister’s friend. Go on Instagram, she’s got tits out to –”

Darcy gestured holding two heavy things in her hands, shrugging.

“Well, they’re out like mine…”

“You can’t stay there,” Jane said. “It’s full of Ian.”

Darcy picked up the remnants of her Old English 800 that sat by her bed and took a swig, making a face. She tried to remember last night and only could get snapshots of things.

“Darcy?”

“Yeah. Just – moving? A new job? I don’t wanna do that again…”

Jane went quiet and Darcy felt a wave of dread like yesterday, her eyes misting. She’d known Jane longer than she’d known Ian. She wondered if she’d be able to tell her what she was like before he came around.

“Darcy, it’s going to be okay.”

“Yeah, well,” Darcy whispered, her voice thin. “It’s gonna have to be.”

She nursed the hangover, cleaned up the mess of the leftover pizza, the empty salad carton, and the empty bottles. She did laundry, threw things into boxes, and tore up pictures.

By the late afternoon, she sent an email through to Casey, informing her that she was taking tomorrow off as well. She tried to not think about the clinic falling to pieces without her there.

She changed by the hour. She’d be destructive and throwing Ian’s belongings around, ripping up mementos while playing loud music through the TV, and then she’d be wracked with sobs and wishing he was there to hold her.

She looked at the classifieds and tried to find somewhere to go – she wasn’t sure how desperate the situation was when she didn’t have a job to go back to, not if she wasn’t going to show up again on Monday. It felt less likely with each hour that passed on that Friday.

She called up landlords the Saturday, feeling wretched, since the last time she didn’t have to do this alone. She’d had Ian, and the process was shared. She wished she had someone to bear that weight with her, but she knew she had no choice. She had a fleeting moment of clarity – she should move out and sleep in her car! Then she reeled at the thought of being that alone and vulnerable in the world.

She found a listing an hour away from her and took the plunge, calling the number. In the rush, she asked to see the place as soon as possible. The owner sounded friendly enough, maybe a little surprised that she was insisting on seeing the advertised piece of shit.

“How much is the bond?” Darcy asked, within a few minutes of being there.

The owner was a middle-aged woman named Maureen, who for whatever reason didn’t seem bothered by the stifling heat that was affecting Darcy. She was sweating through her shirt, dripping down her bare legs.

“It’ll be about eleven-hundred,” replied Maureen. She frowned. “Do you mind me asking what the rush is, hon?”

“I’m not fleeing, like, a bounty hunter or something,” Darcy said, and Maureen didn’t laugh. “I, uh, ended a relationship.”

She got a few texts that morning from Ian, asking when he could come over to get more of his things. She’d told him she’d be out for a few hours, when in truth she’d packed up most of her things when she could sleep last night and had shoved them all into her car, ready to escape the apartment as soon as possible. She’d even taken the key off of her chain and left it on the table.

“Can I move in today?”

“Sure,” Maureen said. “You got cash?”

“I can go get some.”

Darcy departed, came back ten minutes later and Maureen handed her the keys, giving her a shrewd look when she was done counting the notes Darcy laid in her unturned palm. She signed the tenancy agreement, handing it back to Maureen, waiting for the signal that everything was okay.

She rose her fingers to give Maureen a cautious peace sign, a little smile forming.

“Yeah? We good? Awesome.”

She only cried later that night, nursing her beer as she heard the echoes off life outside the walls.

She got a phone call on the Monday, when she’d been expecting Patrick chasing after her, only to find an unknown number on the display.

“Hello?” she said when she picked up, shifting to sit up on her elbows.

She’d slept on the floor in her sleeping bag. She hadn’t bought a mattress yet. She was close to asking for money from her mother, who had only been told the bare minimum about the breakup with Ian.

“Hi, am I speaking to Darcy Lewis?”

She didn’t recognize the voice. It wasn’t Patrick’s wife as far as she could discern, and she cleared her throat.

“Uh, yeah. This is she.”

“Great, I was wondering if you could come in for a meeting. My name is Maria Hill, I work at Sacred Heart –”

“I’m sorry?”

“Doctor Foster passed on your resume, and we’re hoping to find someone to help us with the library at our school. Is this a bad time?”

Darcy began to crawl out of the sleeping bag as fast as possible, looking around, before taking the phone away from her ear to see the time. It was after 10AM and she wondered if it was that obvious she’d been sleeping.

“This is a great time, Maria, thank you for calling me,” Darcy said, frantically snatching her bra from the floor, looking around for her pants. “I would love to meet.”

“Is today too soon, or -?”

“I can-I can do today,” Darcy said. “Whereabouts?”

Maria gave her the address and Darcy made a vague affirming sound, pretending she knew exactly where it was. She walked over to her laptop on the kitchen bench and flipped it open, Googling the name of the school as Maria confirmed a time.

“See you then.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to it,” Darcy replied, promptly hanging up and scrolling through the search results.

A “rich tradition, with Christian values”, the website read. The children on the homepage wore navy and yellow uniforms.

“What the fuck,” Darcy muttered, making a face.

She pulled up at the school’s front parking lot, stepping out in her pencil skirt, hoping she hadn’t sweated through the sharp blazer she wore on top of her silk blouse.

She shoved her feet into her kitten heels and grabbed her handbag, looking around.

It was a quiet street, which was understandable for the time of year. No-one would be around, except maybe maintenance staff, and Darcy’s car was the only one parked there. She felt her phone buzz and she checked it, seeing Ian texting her back:

What the fuck????

He must have found her key, and the note that told him the lease was his problem to solve. She turned off her phone, shoving it back into her bag as she took a deep breath, walking up the front steps.

She knocked, trying to peer into the stained-glass window in the door. It was trying to see through a piece of boiled candy and she stood back, glancing over her shoulder. There was loud, distant banging sound that made her jump and Darcy went rigid, eyes wide.

The door burst open and she startled again, the sweat on her brow dripping down.

A woman with a short brown ponytail met her eye, offering her hand.

“Darcy?”

“Yeah,” she replied, taking her hand to shake. “Maria?”

“Yes,” she said. “You find everything okay?”

“Yeah, am I – can I park here?”

“You probably could get a spot in the teachers’ one around the back, but we use both during the summer anyway. Follow me.”

Darcy nodded, watching as Maria turned her back and walked inside. The front hallway was dimly lit, and Darcy was hit with the scent of paint and dust. She saw a large painting of Mary holding baby Jesus and tried not to react to it, her eyes swivelling over the walls as they walked down the hall into a larger corridor.

“Classrooms,” Maria said, gesturing. “Kindergarten down here and then first grade. I’ll take you in somewhere here…”

“I kinda heard a loud, uh, ruckus earlier?” Darcy said, and Maria glanced at her, her brow lifting, and she smirked.

“A ruckus?” she repeated.

“Was that not an appropriate word –?”

There was a second bang, much louder, unadulterated by the school’s walls. Darcy flinched, while Maria only glanced toward the sound, vaguely interested.

“That’s Mr. Barnes, he’s moving things around,” she murmured. She smirked again. “He’s the ruckus.”

She pushed open a door marked 1R and Darcy followed her. She was met with a couple dozen tiny desks, all of them lowered, with tiny chairs, sitting in a horseshoe shape. There were posters for the alphabet and numbers on the walls, along with a painting of Jesus above the clock, his eyes fixed on Darcy as she moved to copy Maria, who was grabbing a regular-sized chair from the front of the classroom.

“I was sent your resume at a pretty good time, all things considered,” she said, and Darcy nodded, looking away from spooky Jesus, only to see a photograph of the Pope waving at her on the whiteboard.

Maria didn’t seem to notice how distracted Darcy was.

“Our situation has changed a lot in the last semester, even in the last couple of months,” she said, placing her hands in her lap. “Our library is in dire need of organization, re-organization. We’d want our students to have a better library environment in this new school year.”

Darcy bit her lip.

“I’m – I’m a technician, I’m not a librarian,” she said. “I can’t teach.”

She wasn’t selling herself at all. She figured the unconventional style of this interview had thrown her off-balance. There was another distant bang but she didn’t jump that time, instead staring at Maria, waiting for her reply.

“We had needed to juggle our staff after our librarian left quite suddenly in May,” Maria said. “Other teachers are stepping up, but our collection is in dire need of help. From what I heard from your references –”

“Y-You spoke to Doctor -?”

“Yes, I spoke to Doctor Foster and Doctor Chandler,” Maria said, flipping open the file she had, showing what Darcy recognised as a copy of her resume. “They both said you were a remarkable young woman.”

Darcy’s brows lifted, especially since Doctor Chandler was Patrick.

“Really? What did the podiatrist say, specifically?”

“Basically that I’d be a moron if I didn’t hire you immediately,” Maria said, another smirk forming. She shut the file, glancing out the window. Her eyes swung back to meet Darcy’s. “I’m not the principal. I’m the deputy. To make a long story short, Miss Lewis, we’re in a pretty messy situation as a school. The kids are back in less than three weeks and the library looks like a pipe bomb went off in it.”

Darcy blinked. “Right.”

“I would be taking you on as a technician, not a teacher.”

“I don’t know if I’m… I didn’t apply for a job here, I don’t remember anything being advertised –”

“Your name popped up in my network,” Maria said, and she stood up suddenly.

There was another bang.

Darcy mirrored her, smoothing her skirt down, hoping she hadn’t left a sweat patch on the chair. Maria didn’t seem interested, instead moved to walk out, pausing when she took hold of the doorknob.

“I’m not going to sugar-coat it. It’s a big job, and you wouldn’t have a lot of time if you were aiming to finish it enough for kids to use the library on the first day back.”

Darcy nodded. “Right.”

“I have other people to see as well. We didn’t advertise for this role but word of mouth tends to work better than any recruiting website.”

Darcy nodded again. She didn’t think she’d get this job. A better qualified person, maybe a teacher librarian looking for a change, would get it. She departed from the classroom, slipping into the corridor. Maria took her hand and shook it.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be heading toward that ruckus you heard earlier,” Maria said, and Darcy nodded, feeling her face flush.

“Good to meet you,” Darcy said.

She stopped walking and watched Maria walk down another hallway and out of sight, another bang ringing out in the distance, and then a couple yells. It sounded like Maria was investigating, muffled yells going back and forth, and Darcy gave a little sigh, adjusting her bag on her shoulder before she moved back the way they came through.

She stopped at the Mary painting, leaning forward to see the tiny brushstrokes on the blue gown she was swathed in, along with the tiniest text beneath.

Sister Siobhan O’Keefe, 1908

“Holy shit,” she whispered, stepping back. “Go Siobhan…”

She walked outside, the sun in her eyes, and she got in her car, putting her keys in the ignition. She turned them, but the car remained silent.

At that moment, another car pulled up, parking several spaces away from her, and she felt her cheeks flush again with embarrassment. Her car had been idling the other day when she was in traffic but she hadn’t taken any notice, of fucking course, because she was on her way home the day Ian told her about Amy.

Her battery was dead. She waited for the person in their car to get out, hearing their door shut. She tried again in vain, closing her eyes.

“Please…”

She couldn’t afford a tow truck. She gnawed at her lip, feeling the bullets of sweat glide down her back as she tried to shove down the growing anxiety. She had money for a bus ticket, at least…

She glanced over at the car and saw a man standing there wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, watching her.

“Fuck me,” she said under her breath, because he was cute as hell.

Blonde with blue eyes, muscular and tall like a football player. He frowned, signalling her to lower her window. Darcy shook her head hastily, opening her door.

“My battery’s dead,” she called, feeling like her face was on fire.

“I thought so,” he said, and she nodded, flashing an awkward smile.

He went to his trunk and held up a jumper cable and Darcy blinked.

“You want help? Unless you wanna call someone –”

“No, please, I mean, thank you –”

She motioned for him to come closer. He walked over, leaning down, and Darcy wiped some sweat from her face.

“I just – I was in there before, I don’t want – I mean, I already fucked up the job interview, I don’t want this to end in mortification.”

The man’s eyebrows lifted. “Really? Interview?”

“Yeah, you work here?”

“Yeah,” he said, and he gestured to her hand resting on the keys in the ignition. “One more time, see what happens.”

She tried again, but nothing happened. She let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I’ll need that jumper cable.”

“Just a sec,” he said, moving back.

Darcy watched as he moved the car closer until it was facing hers, and he slipped out again to pop the hood, which was when Darcy decided she needed to move out of the front seat and try to pretend she knew what was happening.

She’d only been in this situation once before with Ian and he took over. She’d taken that for granted, not knowing something as basic as this. She knew how to change a tyre, too, but she didn’t think it was something she should do, necessarily.

He seemed to be doing fine without her pretending to supervise him, and Darcy watched him attach the cables, moving back and forth between the two cars.

Her car sprang to life after he told her to give it another try, and she let out a laugh, so relieved.

“God, thank you so much,” she said, and he smiled at her.

“Anyone else woulda done it,” he said, and Darcy kept smiling.

She was fucking lucky he showed up when he did. He went to his trunk to get out a carton of books and rose a hand in a short wave.

“Thank you!” she called from her window, pulling her seatbelt on.

He walked up to the front door and disappeared inside as Darcy drove off.

#darcy lewis x steve rogers x bucky barnes #darcy lewis #steve rogers x reader #darcy lewis x steve rogers #darcy lewis x bucky barnes #wintershieldshock #fanfiction

8 notes · View notes

odd-i-writes · 3 years

Text

Scheduling Disaster

AO3

Peter had a pretty solid schedule, one that he did not like to mess up, please and thank you. Monday to Friday he had school, so from about 7:30 to 3, he was in class. Monday, Wednesdays, and Fridays he had Acadec practice after school until about 4 or 4:30. So, after school or AcaDec practice, Peter was free to patrol, which he did until he was expected home around 6 for dinner. Then, after dinner, he did homework, until about 9 or 10, when he’d patrol again. And on school nights his curfew was strictly at 12:30 AM. It used to be 12, but after missing it so many times he got Mr. Stark to convince Aunt May to extend it, just a little bit.

The only day in the school week that was different was Friday, which was when he’d patrol until about 5 or 6, before going to Mr. Stark’s Tower. Usually, they would have some lab time, eat dinner, and maybe watch a movie. Sometimes they would be in the lab all night, and sometimes they’d skip the lab all together and just watch a movie. Either way, Friday nights were dedicated as “Mr. Stark time.” He usually slept over in the Tower on those nights, mainly because Mr. Stark didn’t like the thought of Peter swinging home in the early hours of the morning, and Happy had woken up at 4 AM just to drive all across New York City one too many times. Either way, it meant that Saturdays were typically spent sleeping in, eating breakfast with Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark, spending some more time with the man, usually in the lab, and doing homework. Occasionally he’d hang out with Ned and, or, MJ on Saturdays too. Then, starting around 8 or 9 PM, he’d start his patrol. Saturdays were the only night where his curfew was mostly non-existent, as long as he texted Mr. Stark hourly updates. Technically it was 3 AM, and Peter was home in bed most Saturdays before that, but sometimes he stayed out later. What could he say? The city needed him. Sunday was dedicated for homework and spending time with Aunt May, and then patrolling at night with his usual curfew.

All this to say, Peter liked his schedule. Everything had a place and was timed out specifically so that he would have time for everything. Being a teenage superhero was hard, after all. Most people got that little chart that had “Social Life — Good Grades — Hobbies” on it and were told to pick two. Peter’s chart looked more like “Social Life — Good Grades — Extracurriculars — Mr. Stark/Lab Time — Spidermanning — Family” and yet was still told to only pick two. But two wasn’t enough for Peter, would never be enough, so he found a way to do it all.

But he wasn’t complaining, no not at all. His schedule worked, he got to do everything he needed. Sure, it left him a little tired, and sure, sometimes he’d after to eat meals while doing homework, or while patrolling, but it was worth it. There had been no problems with his schedule so far, even though Ned had once called it a little bit “too much”, and Mr. Stark had commented on it before, but nothing more than an “I’m worried you’re overworking yourself, Pete,” so he was fine.

After all, he’d always been like this, it wasn’t anything concerning. It’s just that, well, after the Vulture incident, and getting closer to Mr. Stark, and being in Junior year now, he was busier. And sure, maybe he had become more strict about his scheduling after The Incident, but it was just because he had more on his plate. That’s all. He just needed to make sure nothing, and no one, messed up his schedule. And no one would because everyone and their dog knew that Peter’s schedule was important.

That is, until he walked into the common room in the tower Friday evening.

A brunette was sitting on the couch, staring intensely at some game on his phone. He’d obviously not heard Peter walk into the room, or if he had, he was just ignoring him.

“Uh… hi?” Peter said, his voice shaking just a little.

The brunette looked up immediately, a brief emotion of something showing on his face before he just settled on a disgruntled look. “Who are you?” it came out as a sneer and Peter bristled. He said it as if Peter didn’t belong here, but it was Friday, it was his day to be here. His day to spend time with Mr. Stark. He opened his mouth to say something, to give a retort, or at least to give his name, but Mr. Stark chose that exact moment to walk in.

“Oh, shit, Pete. I forgot to text you,” he looked genuinely surprised that Peter was there and, ya. Wow. That hurt a bit.

“This is Harley, he’s going to be staying here for a couple of weeks. There were some family problems and—”

“Tony, who’s this?” the brunette—Harley—asked, shooting a quick glare to Mr. Stark. It was clear that he didn’t want Peter to know why he was here. And for the most part, Peter understood. After all, he was a stranger, and strangers shouldn’t know the happenings of your family. And yet, it was just another stab to the heart. This boy, who could have only been maybe a year older than Peter himself, seemed to be close to Mr. Stark, close enough that he called him “Tony”, and close enough that Mr. Stark even forgot about Peter.

“This is Peter, he’s—”

“His intern,” Peter interrupted, giving Tony a look that clearly said “no Spider-Man”, or at least, he hoped it said that.

Harley gives him a weird look, and Peter gets the immediate feeling that he’s not wanted there. He shifts uncomfortably and turns his attention back to Mr. Stark. For now, he didn’t have to worry about Harley.

“Uhm, so, lab night tonight is…?” Peter trails off.

“Uh, well, I have to get Harley here settled in, but once that’s done I don’t see why we can’t work in the lab once that's done,” Mr. Stark scratched his beard, peering down at the two teens.

Peter smiled, that was all he needed. He didn’t mind waiting a little bit before having lab-time. He could always work on homework in the meantime.

“Speaking of that, though, Pete. You can’t stay over tonight,” Peter’s head shot up, and Mr. Stark must have noticed the faint look of sadness that crossed his face, “Well you can, it’s just that. Well, I sort of told Harley he could sleep in your room tonight.”

This time Peter looked at Harley, and then back to Mr. Stark. He hoped his emotions weren’t showing too much, but he’d never been good at hiding them. Aunt May always said he wore his heart on his sleeve. But the idea that Mr. Stark not only forgot about his and Peter’s lab night, but he also gave Peter’s room to some… some stranger? It hurt. It felt like he was being replaced.

“You’d think that with what, over a hundred floors and probably more than twice as many rooms the old man would have a spare bedroom somewhere, but apparently not,” Harley grumbled, stretching out on the couch where he was sitting.

He was so comfortable here, arguably more comfortable than Peter was. Peter always held at least a little bit of respect for Mr. Stark and his home, no matter how much they bantered, but it seemed like Harley just knew Mr. Stark more. Peter pressed his lips together, he hated it.

“I don’t have guests often,” Mr. Stark shrugged, “What can I say.”

A tense silence fell over the three. Harley was looking at his phone, seemingly refusing to look at Peter, and Mr. Stark was eyeing both teens with a careful eye. Peter, on the other hand, stood in place, with his backpack hanging off one shoulder, and shifted awkwardly a couple of times. He didn’t know what to do, but it seemed like Harley didn’t want him here, and Mr. Stark was barely acknowledging him.

“Anyways, what do you want for dinner, kid?” Mr. Stark turned, heading towards a seat.

“I guess—”

“Pizza would be good, Tony.” Harley’s voice was loud. It demanded attention, unlike Peter’s which seemed to be getting quieter and quieter as the day went on. It was so easy when he was Spider-Man, but when he was Peter Parker it was so much harder to force people to see him, to listen to him. But he’d never felt like that with Mr. Stark before. Mr. Stark had always listened to Peter. Even before the Vulture Incident, Mr. Stark showed interest, even though he didn’t directly speak to Peter. Months later he found out that the man had listened to all of his phone messages, and had kept a close eye on Spider-Man to make sure he was safe. After the incident though, the man got closer to Peter and listened to him in person.

But now, with Harley here, he felt like it was hard to be heard again.

And, on top of that, Harley answered to Peter’s nickname. Mr. Stark always called Peter kid, and only Peter. And yet, Harley answered to the name too? It was petty and childish, but it made an anger boil in Peter’s stomach. He caught Harley’s eye again, and the other boy just rolled his eyes before sending a brief glare. Mr. Stark didn’t even notice the looks Harley was giving Peter, or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge them. Peter sighed, he could tell when he wasn’t wanted somewhere.

“Uhm, Mr. Stark?” Peter called out, just as the man was telling F.R.I.D.A.Y. to place a pizza order.

“Ya, kid?”

“I actually forgot that I uh, I’ve got a big essay due Monday that I need to work on. MJ said she’d help me, but I gotta call her tonight about it… so I’m uh. I’m gonna go? And skip the lab for this week,” he could feel himself starting to shake a little bit. He just wanted to go home, maybe go on another quick patrol, and then watch a movie with Aunt May.

Mr. Stark gave him a weird look, and for a moment Peter was wondering if the man could read his mind. He got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, but he spared a look over to Harley, and the other boy was finally giving the barest of smiles. Apparently leaving was a good decision, then.

“Ya,” Mr. Stark finally spoke, “Sure kid. Just give me a text when you get home, ok?”

“‘Kay. Bye Mr. Stark,” he turned around heading towards the elevator, “By Harley.”

Peter swung home. It was the best way to get his mind off of things. He wasn’t necessarily looking to help people out, but he stopped by a few people who needed his help. There was nothing serious, but it made him feel better. Just something as simple as helping someone find their way around, or helping a young lady get to a subway station, anything like that, helped Peter feel a little lighter. The anger he felt at the Tower slowly seeped away, and soon he felt good enough to go home.

He entered through his bedroom window, changing into pyjamas, and sauntered into the kitchen of the apartment.

“Peter?” Aunt May’s voice rang with concern, “I wasn’t expecting you home tonight. Did something happen?”

She set down the knife she was holding and walked over to Peter, placing her hands on his cheeks as she checked him over for any injuries. Peter just shook his head and wrapped his arms around her.

“No, I just missed you,” he lied. He didn’t know how to tell Aunt May that Tony replaced him with some kid from Tennessee.

Aunt May hummed, brushing her hands through his hair. Peter could tell she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t press any further, so he appreciated that at least. They stayed like that for a few moments, Peter enjoying the warmth of the hug until—

“Aunt May? Whatever you had on the stove is on fire,” Peter mumbled.

“What!” And just like that, the hug was over. His aunt ran over to the stove, turning it off as quick as she could and fanning out the flames. “Why didn’t your… your… Peter Tingle—”

“Spidey Sense”

“Say anything? Can’t you tell when something is about to happen,” her voice cracked as she tried to get the flames under control.

“It doesn’t like… always pick up on everything, May. It just does, sometimes?” Peter shrugged, “I don’t really know how it works.”

“Well, figure it out would you? So we can avoid any more kitchen fires, at least.”

“I think we can do that if you just stop trying to cook,” Peter laughed.

“Hardy har, laugh it off, Pete. I guess we’re ordering in for the night, does Thai sound good?” There was soft clanging as she placed the pan in the sink, turning to give Peter a look that only Aunt May could.

“Ya,” Peter smiled, “That sounds good.”

He and Aunt May watched old rom coms all Friday night, and Peter chose to sleep in on Saturday, something he didn’t do very often. His plan for today was to get some homework done and then Ned and he were supposed to build the Lego Death Star before Peter went on patrol. That was all put to a stop when at 9 AM Peter rolled out of bed to the sound of his phone ringing.

“W’ss’p’” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Are you asleep right now? At—oh, it’s 9 in the morning. But still, that’s pretty late for a boy genius like yourself,” Mr. Stark’s voice echoed.

“I’s Saturd’y M’ss’r St’rk,” Peter yawned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, trying to get his mind to clear up, “I get to sleep in.”

“Mhm, well, get that lazy Spider butt up,” Peter could practically hear Mr. Stark rolling his eyes, “We missed out on our lab night last night, so how do you feel about coming over today? You can even stay over tonight if you’d like, I got Harley set up in his own room now.”

Peter immediately perked up. Clearly, this meant that Mr. Stark still wanted him around, especially if he was reaching out to him first. It meant he’d have to cancel on Ned though, and he probably wouldn’t start his patrol until later, but… well, it was worth it.

“Ya, that sounds good Mr. Stark. I can be there at like, noon?” It would give him a couple of hours to eat breakfast, get started on his homework, and text Ned to cancel their plans. His friend would be disappointed, he was sure, but he’d understand. Peter would tell him they could do it next weekend. Plus, Mr. Stark didn’t mention anything about Harley, so Peter was hoping it would just be his mentor and him. It would give him an opportunity to work on some Spider-Man updates that he had thought of, plus he needed to fix some minor bugs.

It was nothing serious, but a couple of nights ago he had swung face-first into a wall after getting distracted, and it had hurt the coms in Peter’s suit. Mr. Stark knew about it and they were supposed to fix it last night until Harley happened, so Peter was sure it would get fixed tonight.

“Sound good, kid. Just head into the lab when you get here, I’ll have some lunch waiting for you.”

“See you then, Mr. Stark!”

Peter did a small flip off of his bed, excitement making him restless. He’d been so upset and worried that he was being replaced by Harley, but clearly, he wasn’t! Mr. Stark obviously still wanted him around. He popped his head out of his bedroom door, shouting out “Aunt May! I’m going over to the Tower in a couple of hours!”

Aunt May turned from her place on the couch, looking up at Peter with a raised eyebrow. “It’s Saturday,” she said as if that was an explanation for her confusion. And, in her defense, it was. Peter was only ever at the Tower on Saturdays if he woke up there in the first place, he rarely went there if he had slept at home.

“Ya, but with our lab night getting canceled last night Mr. Stark wanted to do it today, so I’ll probably be there all day, or at least until I go out on patrol,” Peter shrugged, trying to play it off as no big deal. But Aunt May looked at him with an all-knowing look and Peter was sure she knew more than she was letting on. “Well, as long as you get your homework finished it's fine,” was all she said.

Peter nodded, quickly going back to his desk and getting to work. There wasn’t much to do and he was sure he could finish most of it, at least, before he had to get to Mr. Stark’s.

Peter may have overestimated his ability to get his work done in time by just a bit. He had been planning on taking the subway to the Tower but found himself in need of swinging, and even when he swung all the way there he was fifteen minutes late. Not the worst, but he felt like it was different today. Different because now Mr. Stark had another “kid” he could work with.

He changed quickly in an alley outside the Tower and entered through the backdoor as usual. There was a happy skip to Peter's step as he got into Mr. Stark’s personal elevator, with his bag slung on one shoulder. Despite the fact that this messed up his schedule, Peter was just glad he was actually going to spend some time with Mr. Stark. His only hope was that Harley wouldn't be there.

“Good afternoon Mr. Parker,” F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke, “Would you like me to bring you up to Boss’ lab?”

“Yes please, F.R.I.”

The elevator was small and fast, and despite the fact that Mr. Stark’s lab was on the 90-something-th floor it only took a matter of seconds for Peter to arrive. He walked through the halls with ease, his muscle memory bringing him straight to the lab. There was a slight tingle from his Spidey Sense, but Peter paid it no mind. It was probably because he had been so upset when he was in the Tower last night. Plus, his Spidey Sense was just like… anxiety, but for superheroes. He put his hand against the sensor and the doors opened for him.

“Hey Mr. Star—” he froze.

There was a lanky, tall body sitting at his spot. At his desk.

“Hey,” the other boy mumbled, not lifting his head from where he was staring at something on the— no, on Peter’s —desk. “The old man’s gonna be back in a few, he said he had something to do.”

“He’s not that old,” Peter mumbled, feeling the sudden need to stick up for his mentor. He knew or at least had a feeling that Harley was just teasing Mr. Stark. It seemed like it was their dynamic, but still. “F.R.I. could you let Mr. Stark know that I’m here, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker,” she replied.

“You’re uh,” Peter shifted uncomfortably, “You’re at my desk.” There was a bit to his tone, one that he hadn’t done on purpose, but he didn’t correct himself.

“What? Are you gonna go cry about it to mommy?” Harley finally lifted his head from whatever was so important on the desk, but only to roll his eyes, “I don’t see your name written on it anywhere.”

That’s because it doesn’t need to be, Peter wanted to say, because only he and Mr. Stark went into this lab.

But instead, he just shrugged, “It’s where I work,” was all he could say. The anger was starting to boil in his stomach again, and Peter could feel the tinge of… something. Jealousy? But that wasn’t like Peter. He never got jealous. Uncle Ben taught him better than that.

And yet, he couldn’t think of another word for the emotion he was feeling towards Harley. Harley was replacing him. He took Peter’s “Mr. Stark Time” away from him, he disrupted Peter’s carefully planned out schedule, he took Peter’s nickname, took his spot in the lab, and took his room. Mr. Stark was replacing Peter with Harley, so ya. He was jealous. Sue him.

“God, are you such a goody-two-shoes that you have to come into work on the weekend? Can’t you just like, go home? Tony has me here right now, so he doesn’t need any more help,” Harley gives a glare before going back to whatever he was working on.

Peter bristled, opening his mouth to retort back. But he didn’t know what to say. That he and Mr. Stark were close? Obviously not close enough for Mr. Stark to remember when they were meeting, or be there on time, or mention that there would be some other kid interrupting their time together.

And speaking of the devil, right at that moment Mr. Stark walked in. There was a tense silence in the air, and Mr. Stark looked back and forth between the two teens. Just like Aunt May, Peter had a feeling that Mr. Stark knew more than he was letting onto. But then, the man just sighed, took off his iconic sunglasses, and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“You two catching up with each other?”

“Uh, ya, I guess,” Peter shrugged, hovering awkwardly over his desk. He had things in it, important things. Spider-Man things. Things he didn’t want some stranger looking through. He shot Mr. Stark a look, trying to convey exactly that with just his face. He furrowed his eyebrows, sharply pointing his head to the desk, and luckily, Mr. Stark nodded.

“Hey, uh, kid,” And fuck. There was that name again. This time Peter knew it wasn’t directed at him, Mr. Stark was looking directly at Harley, “That’s Pete’s desk, and he’s kind of got a system, so why don’t you move to the end of it, gives you both room to work there, ok? We’ll get another desk set up soon.”

Harley raised his head, huffing slightly, but he moved over wordlessly. Or, almost wordlessly. If Peter didn’t have super hearing he wouldn’t have heard it, and Mr. Stark definitely didn’t hear it. “Neurotic much, eh?” Harley mumbled under his breath.

Peter tensed. Harley was treating him no better than how Flash did, and it was causing him to be on edge. His Spidey Sense wouldn’t stop tingling. It wasn’t telling him that there was an immediate danger, but it was like it knew that Harley didn’t like him.

Nonetheless, Peter sat down at his spot, making sure to sit at the opposite end of the long table, just so that Harley wouldn’t be able to see what he was working on. He guessed that he and Mr. Stark would have to wait to repair the coms in his suit. They couldn’t exactly pull it up in front of Harley. Because of Secret Identities and all that. But that was ok. Peter could work on updating his web formula.

He’d had a few ideas on how to improve it. One, he’d really like to make a set of quick-dissolving webs, because 2 hours was sometimes a bit much. He also wanted to see if he could develop his webs to be able to cover injuries. Right now he was able to do it on himself, but he knew that it had chemicals in it that would be unsafe for broken skin. The only reason he used it on himself was because of his healing factor; it wouldn’t be able to do any lasting damage. But it could probably cause light chemical burns on regular people.

He brought out some scraps on paper, as well as a sheet that had his original web formula on it, and got to work. It was silent for the most part, Peter usually preferred to work in silence, only chatting with Mr. Stark on and off. But today Peter didn’t say a word. Even Harley was quiet for the first little while. But then, he kept speaking up, asking Mr. Stark to come over and look over his work, or making little quips. Peter kept his head down, feeling more like a stranger in the lab than he ever had before. It was hard, he didn’t always know what the other two were talking about, and the one time he had tried to join the conversation he had just gotten a small glare from Harley.

So, Peter just sighed and kept his head down and focused on his work. He was making good progress on the equations so he’d be able to test it out soon. He worked on his webbing so often that it was practically second nature at this point. Slowly the hours ticked by, and Peter found himself ready to test it out. The first one to test out was the quick dissolving webs because Peter felt like it was most important. He was really starting to get complaints from the police who kept finding criminals webbed up to the wall. Apparently, it was hard to get out of. Who knew.

“Mr. Stark, do you think you could come and check this out for a second?” Peter asked, ignoring the fact that the man was with Harley. Surely he could spare a couple of minutes.

“Just a minute Pete,” the man hummed, scratching his beard as he peered down at Harley’s work.

So Peter waited, and waited, and waited. In reality, he probably only waited about 15 minutes, but it felt like ages as he watched his mentor interact with Harley. Finally, Peter stood up and grabbed a couple of vials and chemicals from the shelf, sighed a bit as he did. And no, he was not pouting at all, and if F.R.I.D.A.Y said anything different he was going to reboot her.

Eventually, Mr. Stark comes over, just as Peter is setting everything down at his desk. He gives Peter a look that distinctly says “really?” and Peter just shrugs. It wasn’t like Harley paid him enough attention to really get that he was working on Spider-Man stuff.

“Looks good, Pete, go ahead and move to testing it out,” the man ruffles his head and Peter shoots him a grateful smile.

There were so many emotions going on in Peter’s head, and he really didn’t know what to think, but he was happy to get some attention from Mr. Stark. Maybe he really was just jealous of Harley. He wasn’t used to sharing Mr. Stark’s attention, and it was a lot to get used to. And yet, even with that knowledge, Peter couldn’t make the burning anger go away.

And, Peter couldn’t say he felt good about his current emotions, but when Harley’s head shot up when Mr. Stark praised him he couldn’t help but feel a little smug.

He was here in the lab for a reason, after all. Mr. Stark would never work with an idiot weekly.

Well, debatable, because Peter knew he was kind of an idiot sometimes, but that was more street smarts. He knew that when it came to science he was nowhere near being an idiot.

Just as the silence was coming over the three of them again, Mr. Stark’s phone rang.

“Rhodey? Ya, no I’m free, what's up?” Mr. Stark called out, probably louder than he needed to, “Wait one sec.”

“Hey, you two, I’m just going to head to the common room for a second, you’re good here by yourselves?” He gave them both a suspicious glare, but both boys nodded, “Ok good, don’t die, have fun, all that jazz. I’ll be back in a minute.”

And then he left.

And Peter knew what the man was doing. He was never the most subtle person in the room. Or in the world, probably. But that was what made him Tony Stark, and it was one of the qualities Peter admired in Mr. Stark. He was always confident and sure about his decisions. Even if that decision was forcing two teenagers to spend some time together, despite the fact that they clearly didn’t like each other. Plus, it helped that he had super hearing, so he could hear Mr. Stark say, “Rhodey, I just don’t know what to do with them” as he walked away from the lab.

“God,” Harley bemoaned, getting up to walk closer to Peter, “You’re such a pest, you know that? Like you literally work here every week, but I can't even get a full day to hang out with Tony? You’ve always got to pop up in one way or another, fucking annoying.”

Peter forced his lips together, trying to hold in an outburst that was surely going to happen, and just shrugged. “It’s my work, I like it,” he said through clenched teeth, “And you’re the one who showed up during our workday, that’s not my fault.”

“Can’t you just like, leave him alone for fucks sake. He’s probably annoyed too. Like, just go home,” Harley sighed, and Peter’s Spidey Sense immediately perked up. Something was wrong.

He looked up at Harley just as he was pouring a vial of chemicals into his web mixture, peering at the other boy to see what was causing his Spidey Sense to go off. But the brunette was just standing there with his arms crossed, and— was that? Was that a pout? Weird.

But Peter didn’t get to think about it anymore, because before he knew it his body was moving without him thinking about it. He could feel the heat against his back as he grabbed Harley’s arm and shoved him down, blocking the other boy with his own body. There was a loud BOOM, and the room shook slightly, and for a moment Peter was sure it was going to collaps—

No, he thought, don’t think about that right now.

And it was over just as fast as it had happened. He felt some minor burns on his back and arms, but nothing feels too amiss, other than the adrenaline that was currently pumping through his body. So Peter took a chance, and stood up, quickly looking around the room and down at Harley, who was now sitting on the floor. The other boy looked fine, though there were hints of a mild burn on his right arm. But the lab, on the other hand… well it was a mess.

The web formula had clearly exploded, and there were sticky webs all over the room. The vial he had been mixing it in was broken, and there was a small fire over the table, which Dum-E quickly came to extinguish.

Peter just looked around with wide eyes, his hands shaking from the adrenaline, as Harley looked up at him with equally wide, and concerned eyes.

“Fuck—” Peter began to sigh, but he didn't get to finish the sentiment before the doors to the lab were swung open.

“What the hell happened in here?” Mr. Stark burst through the lab, sounding just as out of breath as Peter felt. His eyes held a fire in them, but he looked equally angry, concerned, and disheveled.

And Peter doesn’t remember a time he’s been this afraid to face Mr. Stark. Probably not since the Ferry incident. But he fucked up this time. He hadn’t been paying attention when he was grabbing chemicals, nor pouring them, and he caused an explosion. He was just happy it was minor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I got distracted,” Peter mumbled his head down as he refused to face his mentor.

“Distracted?” the man shouted, and Peter was almost certain that he was angry enough to breathe fire, “You know you can’t get distracted in the lab, and especially not when you’re handling chemicals Peter! You know better than that!”

“I know, I jus—”

“No, Pete. The adult is talking now, listen,” Mr. Stark put up a hand, and for the first time, Peter looked at the man’s face. He looked angry but also concerned. “If you were tired or hungry or something you should have let me know, I wouldn’t have made you come in today, but you cannot, be distracted. What if there had been a bigger explosion Peter? What if people got hurt? Were you not thinking at all?”

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s voice quivered.

And at that, Mr. Stark paused, took a breath, and ran a hand through his hair. He looked calmer, and Peter was sure he was going to walk over and tell Peter that he was sorry for yelling. But instead—

“Harley,” Mr. Stark spoke, and Peter’s shoulders deflated, “Go up to MedBay. I want to talk with Peter alone for a second.”

And for once, the brunette left the pair without saying anything. Apparently, the trick to get Harley to be quiet was to cause a minor explosion. Who knew.

Mr. Stark waited a few moments before turning back to Peter. It was clear he was still mad, but Peter didn’t think he was going to yell anymore.

“Peter, what were you doing? How could you get so distracted that you poured the wrong chemical? What if you had gotten hurt?”

“I heal fast, Mr. Stark,” And, ok ya. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say to the man who was clearly concerned about him. But it was true! The burns would be gone by tomorrow.

Mr. Stark just sighed and ran a hand down his face. He took a few deep breaths, and Peter instantly recognized it as a tactic for the man to hold in his anger.

“Fine then,” it clearly didn’t work well enough, as Mr. Stark snapped at Peter with such venom that the boy took a visible step back, “What if Harley got hurt? He doesn’t have any superpowers, Pete, he can’t heal like you can. Sure, you can’t get hurt, but he could have gotten really hurt. If it was worse, he could have died, Peter.”

And at that, Peter’s eyes welled up with tears. Mr. Stark was clearly concerned about Harley, and clearly mad at Peter. Did he not see that it was the other boy who put Peter so on edge, so tense, and that was why Peter made the mistake?

“I’m… Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But Peter, this can’t happen. You’re going to have to go home for the day, and we’ll see about next Friday. I haven’t decided if you get lab privileges or not.”

Tears began to fall, but Mr. Stark either didn’t notice or didn’t care. He was quick to turn on his heels and walk towards MedBay, where Harley was. Because of course. Peter was beginning to feel like a fool. It was obvious that Mr. Stark and Harley were close, and were “connected” as Harley had said earlier. And Peter? Well Mr. Stark only spoke to Peter in the first place because of Spider-Man, not because of Peter Parker. Sure, Mr. Stark clearly cared for him, and wanted him around, but not in the same way as Harley. Peter was never invited to stay at the Tower for more than a night, not like Harley, and Mr. Stark was clearly more concerned about Harley’s safety than Peter’s.

(That’s not quite right though, is it? Somewhere deep down Peter knew he was just getting worked up, and he was just overly anxious and jealous. He knew Mr. Stark cared for him just as much as always, and he knew that Mr. Stark liked both Peter and Spider-Man. But right now? Right now Peter was too upset to think rationally. Later, he might look back on it and realize that it was a mixture of being jealous, angry, and probably the pain that came with the burns.)

Peter walked to the elevator, his head hanging in shame, as tears spilled out of his eyes. It was just a stupid mistake, but Mr. Stark was so mad at him, and only cared about Harley being ok. He sniffed, rubbing his eyes as F.R.I took him down to the lobby. “Take care, Mr. Parker,” and Peter swore he could hear a hint of concern in the AI’s voice. He shot a small smile up to the ceiling but said nothing more before leaving.

He took a deep breath once outside, trying to get in as much fresh air as he could in New York City. He walked as quickly as he could, his mind already made up about what he was going to do. He had planned to patrol after lab night anyway, and sure he was a couple of hours early and hadn’t had dinner yet, but it was fine. He’d stop by a hot dog truck or something during the patrol.

So Peter ran into an alleyway, hopping as he kicked off his shoes and changed out of his civilian clothes. Going on patrol would be a good way to use his built-up adrenaline, anyway. He could use any lasting anger and jitteriness to help people. So once he was in his suit, and his bag was webbed up high on a while, Peter got to swinging.

It was still rather early in the night, only about 5 or 6 PM, but it was the end of November so it was already dark, but even so, he wasn’t expecting much. There was a young teen that was trying to rob a small grocer early into the patrol, but all it took was Spider-Man showing his face, giving a wave and a short “Hey kid, I’ll buy that for you,” for the kid to back off. Peter didn’t really have money to be wasting, but he figured the young kid needed it. Plus, it was just a sandwich that was a couple of dollars, it wouldn’t kill Peter to lose that amount of money.

Peter swung around for another hour, and nothing much happened. He stopped a group of bullies and walked the poor kid home, but other than that Peter just swung and kept an eye out. It was when Peter was sitting on the edge of a roof, peering down onto the streets and keeping a careful eye out for any trouble that he heard it;

“Hey! Fuck off!” and even though Peter had only known the guy for just over a day, he already knew his voice like the back of his hand.

It was hard to forget the voice of the guy who was replacing you.

(But he wasn’t, and Peter knew that. Or would know that, once he calmed down.)

And for a brief second, a second that Peter was not proud of, he hesitated. It wasn’t like he didn’t like Harley, sure, he wasn’t the guy’s biggest fan, but he didn’t deserve to be attacked. But, shit. Really? Really? The guy that's been at Peter’s throat all day, the guy that Peter was mad at, is getting attacked and now Peter has to go save him. Because of course, he does.

So Peter swings down, climbing down the wall straight above Harley. There was a guy with mangly blonde hair and a hand that was roughly holding Harley against a wall. When Peter looked closer he could see a gun in the guy’s other hand, which was being pushed right into Harley’s stomach.

“Listen, I literally, don’t have anything, man,” Harley said, and Peter could tell he was trying to stay brave, trying to put on a show, but he could hear the shake in his voice. And wow, Harley reminded Peter of Mr. Stark.

“Look at your fucking shoes, your jacket, I know money when I see one,” the man sneered, shoving his gun further into Harley’s stomach, “So pay u—”

“Hey man! Stealing isn’t nice!” Peter chose that moment to jump down, giving the man a kick to the shoulder to get him to back off Harley.

“Fuck off bug boy,” the man spat, trying to take a step closer to Harley again, but Peter stood directly between the two.

“I feel like purposefully calling me by the wrong name is just rude, I mean come on! I have a spider on my chest,” Peter rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air for good measure, “But if that's how it's gonna be I’m gonna call you Mr. dumbface, cause really your face is annoying me right now,”

There was silence.

“Ok, so I’m a little out of it today, but a little laugh would’ve been nice,” he turned back to Harley, who was staring at him with a slightly gaped mouth.

“You… you’re… Really?” was all Harley stuttered. And, ok, ya. Maybe Peter should have seen it coming that he wasn’t the only one who could recognize voices.

“Listen we’ll talk about it later, ok, lemme just web this gu—”

“I’m not going back to jail!” the guy yelled, suddenly a lot more defensive than he had been before. And Peter didn’t like that. A guy with a gun? Easy-peasy, just had to disarm him. Usually, they didn’t even want to use their weapon. But an angry, defensive guy with a gun? Well, that was significantly more difficult to deal with.

Peter had a split second of warning when his Spidey Sense went off. It wasn’t enough, he knew it wasn’t. But his instinct kicked in and he grabbed Harley’s arm, shoving him to the ground just like he had done earlier today.

And really, Peter needed to stop with constant, daily, accidents. This was getting a bit much.

There were three shots, the first two went into Peter's stomach, and the second in his right shoulder. He grunted but didn’t fall. He gave the guy a good punch in the face, knocking him down to the ground.

“That…” Peter grunted, kicking the gun away, “That was rude.”

He quickly webbed the guy up, sparing no amount of webs to ensure that he would stay on the ground for a while. He stumbled back, placing a hand over his stomach as he tried to assess the damage. He didn’t think the bullets hit anything important, but he also couldn’t tell if they were still in him or not. What he did know is that he was bleeding fast.

A hand landed on Peter’s shoulder, and his first instinct was to attack. His Spidey Senses were going haywire, everything felt like a threat. He went to spin and web up whoever was grabbing him, but he was beginning to feel dizzy and practically tripped over his own two feet. And fuck, he felt like shit.

“Hey! Hey! It’s me, it’s me. It’s Harley,” the brunette said, leading Peter to sit on the ground, away from the mugger.

“You’re… You’re bleeding, like a lot. What… What do we do?” and this was the first time Peter ever heard Harley sound unsure of himself.

Peter’s first instinct was to ask Karen to call Mr. Stark, so he did exactly that. But his mind was starting to get foggy, and it felt like there were cotton balls in his mouth. Every word was a struggle, and every breath hurt, and fuck he just wants to be at the Tower so Mr. Stark and Dr. Cho can patch him up again.

“Kaaareeenn,” Peter mumbled, each syllable feeling like another stab to his stomach, “Karen… Kareeeen,” He kept calling out for her, but the AI is strangely quiet.

There’s a reason she doesn't answer though, and Peter knows it… but he can’t remember. His brain is too foggy, and he doesn’t really know where he is anymore, or who he wants. He just knows he needs Karen to answer him. So he kept mumbling her name.

“Oh my god, I think I broke Tony’s genius child,” Harley mumbled, and yes! Yes! That’s who Peter needs right now!

“Mi’ss’r… Mi’ss’r S’rk,” he stuttered out, nodding at Harley, who just stares at him with wide and confused eyes. Peter just continues, “Miiiis’errrrr S’arrrrk. Call. Call, Mi’ss’r S’rk. Karen, Kaareen, call Missss’r S’rk.”

And he can hear Harley mumbling above him, something about “breaking a superhero”, and how “Tony is going to kill him”, but he doesn’t really care, but wow, his stomach hurts. And his shoulder hurts. And how much blood has he lost? A lot, probably. Somewhere, deep down, Peter knew that he only got this foggy, this out of it, when there was internal bleeding. Which, ya, he didn’t like that he knew that, but what could he do? His brain wasn’t working fast enough right now though to be able to relay that information to Harley.

“Ok.. Ok… Get him to Tony, he can help. Ya, ya. That’s a good idea. Phone… Phone… ok. Ok, that’s fine, no phone. We’ll just walk back, totally fine. Just gonna walk back to Stark Towers with a bleeding … Spider… guy,” Harley kept mumbling and it was starting to get on Peter’s nerves. Why wasn’t Karen answering him?

(Because... his mind supplied unhelpfully, you were supposed to fix the coms with Mr. Stark but you never did.)

And suddenly he was being lifted up or at least helped up. “C’mon, C’mon. I need your help here, you gotta walk with me, we’re not that far from the Tower, just walk with me,” Harley kept speaking, and when Peter whined (no he didn’t, he’ll deny that if you ever ask him about it), Harley made sure to speak quieter.

Peter doesn’t remember a lot about the whole trip, but he does remember tripping and falling a couple of times, and Harley telling people to move out of their way. “Just, just a few more steps, we’re almost there and then Tony’ll fix you up, he’ll fix you up, don’t worry,” at this point, Harley was talking more for himself than he was for Peter. Peter was barely listening.

Peter doesn’t remember being taken up to the MedBay, nor does he remember Mr. Stark walking in with Dr. Cho, and he definitely doesn’t remember the surgery that was performed to get the bullets out of his stomach. Apparently, the one in the shoulder was a clean shot. He was informed of everything a few hours after he woke up.

But when Peter first woke up he looked around the room, ignoring the familiar itch of an IV in his arm. Mr. Stark was asleep in a chair in the corner. For the most part he looked calm, collected, even somehow bored in his sleep, but Peter could practically feel the tension seeping off him. Then, there was Harley, who was sitting right next to Peter’s bed, and wide awake.

“Uh… hi,” was all Harley said.

“F.R.I, can you turn down the lights please?” was all Peter had the energy to say at first. It was too bright. It was always too bright in the MedBay. Immediately, the lights turned down by 50%, and Peter mumbled out a thanks.

“Are you ok?” he turned to Harley, looking over the boy to see if there were any injuries. The only one he could see is the mild burn from earlier that day.

“Am I— am I ok? Dude, you got shot three times while wearing a red and blue spandex suit! What the fuck,” Harley looked shocked, maybe even a little angry, “God, I hate New York. You’re all so weird here, what the fuck is even happening?”

“I dunno, this feels like a normal Saturday night to me,” Peter shrugged, trying to make light of the situation. He didn’t like that the other boy was concerned over him.

“Normal? God, I hate it here,” Harley ran a hand through his hair, huffing out a laugh. There was a beat of silence before Peter broke out into a choked laugh too. Soon, the two boys were hardly able to contain themselves, Harley was doubled over laughing, and Peter was leaning back. Neither of them really knew what they were laughing about, but they both couldn’t get over the sheer ridiculousness of the situation.

“It’s actually early Sunday morning, now,” Peter’s laughter got caught off, and he snapped his neck to look at the man in the corner.

Now that Mr. Stark’s eyes were open and aware he could see that they were a little red and a little swollen. But Peter was more focused on the whole “Sunday” thing.

“Aunt May!” he bolted up from bed, ready to get dressed right that minute.

“Has already been contacted,” Mr. Stark sighed, “Really, who do you take me for?”

Peter didn’t answer, he just shrugged and continued to look at his sheets. He was still feeling shitty about the explosion, and he didn’t know how to face the man. At least, though, his mind had cleared up from his previous anger and jealousy. Obviously, Mr. Stark cared about Peter and wanted him around, the tear marks on his face proved it.

“Listen, both of you...” Mr. Stark trailed off, and both boys kept their eyes on the man, waiting for him to speak. “I’m sorry I blew up at both of you today,” and at that Peter sent Harley a look, who just shrugged and mouthed ‘I’ll tell you later’, “I shouldn’t have yelled, but honestly? You’re both annoying little shits, and you worried me.”

“Peter’s the worse one,” Harley muttered.

“Says the guy who got mugged on his second night in New York,” Peter shot a teasing look.

“Hey! Tony told me to go for a walk! What was I supposed to do?”

“Bring your phone for one,” Mr. Stark chimed in.

Both boys looked at him sharply, “We’re not talking to you.”

There was a beat of silence before the two teens broke out into laughter again, and Mr. Stark just sighed.

“I can’t believe I’ve spent two days trying to get you two to like each other, and all it took was a mugging, getting shot 3 times, and getting both of you to save each other,” he rolled his eyes, “I’ll write that down for next time.”

“To be fair, you maybe should have warned both of us that you were going to try to force a new friendship,” Peter mentioned.

“Don’t be too hard on him, Old man is old enough that he’s probably got dementia or some shit,” Harley chipped in.

“He does forget things a lot, one time he forgot to wear pants to a meeting,”

“That was one time!”

“Ya, ok Mr. Stark.”

“My God, between the two of you, I’ve created a monster,” Mr. Stark sighed as Harley cackled, “Go ahead. Laugh all you want. I’ll be in the kitchen, eating normal human food that a certain Mr. Parker won’t get until the literal holes in his stomach are healed. And Harley? I just don't want to feed you, so suffer.”

And with that, the man left. Both teens laughed briefly, rolling their eyes at their mentor.

“Listen, I’m sorry I was hard on you earlier,” Harley finally spoke up, “I was just excited to spend time with Tony. I haven’t seen him in, jeez, like four years? And it was a bit of a shock to find out I had to share him.”

Peter shook his head, “No, I’m sorry too. I wasn’t very welcoming to you, and I definitely didn’t make any effort.”

There was a silence, an awkward one that Peter wanted to fill.

“I uh, well. I don’t really have a lot of men in my life, not a lot of father figures I guess. I had my Uncle Ben, but he died… a while ago. And well, Mr. Stark stepped up a few months ago, and I guess I kinda latched on a bit too much. I was jealous when you came,” he shrugged, whispering the last part.

Because, God, it was so hard to admit to someone that you were jealous of them. But it had to be done, especially if Harley was staying at the Tower for a couple weeks.

“Jealous of me?” Harley sounded shocked.

“Ya, I mean. He like, didn’t even text me to cancel our lab night, and he gave you my room, and you were with us for our lab day, and we didn’t even do our movie night. I thought you were replacing me, which is stupid, I know now,

“Dude. Tony’s known I was coming here two weeks ahead of time and literally forgot to set me up a room. I showed up at the front door and he was still shocked. He didn’t forget to text you, he forgot I was coming,”

“Oh.”

“Ya, oh. And, well, I’m only here because of family stuff,” Harley paused, and Peter could see that he was debating whether or not he should continue.

“My sister got sick. Cancer, they said, so she and my mom had to go to the hospital while she gets treatment. And my mom, well, she didn’t want me home alone, and she knew she couldn’t really take care of me and my sick sister. So Tony said I could stay here for a few weeks until they were back home. So I wasn’t here to replace you, I’m just a charity case,” and Peter’s heart practically broke at the way Harley’s shoulders sagged. He knew that feeling.

Mr. Stark wasn’t the best at letting people know his true intentions, and it was easy to feel like you were a burden to the man. Peter should know, he was President of feeling that way.

“Harley, listen. I’ve only known Mr. Stark for like, a few months now. Less than a year,” he started, “But I know for a fact that he doesn’t let just anyone stay in the Tower. He only lets people he really, really, cares about in here. And his lab! Plus I see how he talks with you! You’ve got him wrapped around your finger,”

“Says you,”

“Well then the two of us together? We can get anything we want,” and that made Harley laughed.

They settled into another silence, this one much less awkward. The only sounds were of their breathing and of the machines beeping.

“So, uh, Spider, eh?” Harley raised an eyebrow, “Are you some sort of bug superhero?”

“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter answered incredulously, “Haven’t you heard of me?”

“Uh, no?”

“The Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man?” Harley shook his head, “Crap, I’ve gotta start working outside of New York, I guess.”

“So are you a mutant?”

“What?” Peter laughed, “Nah, until about a year ago I was totally normal, less than even. Asthmatic, and I needed glasses, and honestly a strong gust of wind could’ve knocked me over.”

“What changed?”

“Radioactive spider,” Peter shrugged as if it answered everything.

Harley barked out a laugh, “What?”

“It bit me, now I’m like, part spider I guess.”

“Shit… That’s wild,”

“Ya,”

And with that, both boys were silent again, this time both of their breathing began getting shallower and shallower, and before they knew it they were passed out. The last thing Peter heard was Mr. Stark walking by the room again,

“Monsters, the two of them.”

#my fics #irondad #spiderson #irondad fic #spiderman fic #peter parker fic #harley keener #jealousy fic #peter parker #tony stark

16 notes · View notes