#i love how quick tony is to reassure harley that its okay

[letthefrogsbe]

remember when I was gonna write that parkner fic?

cool so I've decided I'm gonna, but because I cannot write for SHIT and I hate my writing every time I see it, ill just share my outline of what I have so far. its not coherent. sorry. 

Section one: aunt may dies. It’ll be like “it's been 3 months. 3 months since May was shot. 2 months and 3 weeks since she died.”

Something like that idc. Basically this section will base around peter living tony, because he’s not doing well, and he is only 17- which is not actually old enough to be on your own after something like this. Setting is established, with cameos from dr strange (who tony is dating and lives with (yeah bite me, this is my fanfiction i can make it what i want.) it will be made obvious that this takes place after endgame, which also means that tony is Not going to die. I’m not that mean lmao. The avengers are like largely together, there was not as much death in this as there was in endgame. Whatever. Everyone is very nice to peter because they know that for him its either this or him becoming a ward of the state so like.

Section two: harley gets kicked out. His mom finds out that he’s gay (from gossip sources idk) and kicks harley out. Im not going to write them having a big fight like in the moment, but harley will recount what happened somewhat to tony in this section, and then more to peter later in the story. Gay ppl trauma dump, we know this. Okay anywaysss so harley calls tony literally sobbing and like freezing fucking cold. IM SORRY IM BEING SO MEAN TO THEM I PROMISE THEY'LL GET A HAPPY ENDING. Okay. harley explains how his mom kicked him out. Tony asks why, harley says something like “she didn’t agree with my lifestyle choices” like bitterly. Tony is a good person in this (i know, im really taking some character liberties) and he’s in the mood for collecting strays apparently, so he has happy send over the quinjet. He can’t make it himself bc hes in fucking japan or something for the next few weeks,, but. Yeah! Tony also calls peter, who is presumably in bed and feeling depressed. “Hey pete. How ya feeling? Any better?’ ‘Not really, tony. Sorry.’ ‘you don’t have to be sorry-’ ‘damn tony you sound like my therapist.’ “sorry pete, but i do have something to tell you- you know harley?’ ‘only from what you’ve told me about him, but yea. He was the tennessee garage kid, right?’ ‘i mean. Yes. so- he’s gonna come stay with me for a while too- it might not be permanent but it will probably be a bit. He’s about your age, and he just has no where to go (just like u). He’s not going to stay in your room or anything, but with bruce and thor here, he will be in your apartment area.’ ‘okay tony.. Will i have to talk to him a bunch?’ ‘not if you don’t want to- i already warned him about you, so it should be okay. I wouldn’t worry so much pete- you guys are so similar in a lot of ways that i wanted to introduce you two long before he called me.’ ‘okay tony, i trust you. Thank you again for letting me stay with you :)’ (yeah that kind of got away from me)

Section 3: build up. this is a shorter section. Harley and peter are gonna meet in section 4. This section is harley’s jet ride (with an intuitive happy) and harley’s nerves about how he really isn’t worth this (i mean hes pretty intimidated tony sent a private jet just for him) and happy like reassures him. Hes still insecure though. Peter is also nervous bc what if harley doesn’t like him? What if he doesn’t like harley?? Tony did say they would get along, but peter hasn’t really been himself recently, so who knows? Yeah lots of that. I do want to emphasize though- peter is not completely unhealthily coping. Like he has a therapist and he has been reaching out to ned and mj, but its still an open wound for him. Obviously. He still has a sense of humor though, but its to cover these deep insecurities. Like the first month or so that he was with tony, he was reallllyyyy trying to not get close to him bc he sort of thinks he kills everyone around him. Like logically he knows this isn’t true, but he does really think the that non superheroes that he surrounds himself with are very at risk if they know about his spider-man-ness. The only people who know now are ned and mj (may knew too).

Section 4: the meeting of harley and peter. Keep in mind peter has been living in this apartment/area of stark tower for about 3 months now. He actually moved in while may was in the hospital because he couldn’t stand to be alone in the apartment when he knew why may wasn’t there. And um. Yeah. so peter is like comfortable in this space, basically. Also- the reason theyre in the same apartment is because stark tower was not really created with the idea of housing broken orphans in mind, so it only has a certain amount of residential space. Thor and bruce are currently staying there together (although no one really knows if theyre together, or if theyre just best bros who went through some extreme trauma together and are now inseparable. Hmmm wonder if thats gonna come up later) and theyre using one apartment, and happy lives there with his own apartment, and tony and stephen are currently sharing the penthouse, even though thats not public knowledge. Really only the people close to tony know that he’s dating stephen. So. this leaves just the one other 2 bedroom apartment for peter and harley. It has one bathroom, and the bedrooms are connected by a door but theyre pretty big so like. Theres a kitchen, a living room with a fancy ass tv, and a really pretty view (with a balcony bc <333). May died in march, peter got leave from the school in april, and it is now the middle of june btw. Tony is now peter’s official guardian (he was before may died anyways) and now has sole guardianship over him which he has fully accepted, even though peter and him both know that there are going to be times where he has to go out of town bc he does own a company after all. Times like right now. Harley is pretty nervous that tony isn’t going to be there to greet him and that he is going to have to like introduce himself to peter and everything. Cmon, theres no reason to feel like that, he’s the one intruding after all, he should at least be able to handle himself. (<--- harley’s thoughts). Yeah so theyre insecure super cool. A n y w a y s so peter was stressing about harley as he arrived, and so when harley walked in they were both complete bundles of nerves. Harley walks up but knocks. Peter actually jumps (bc spidey sense okay whatever) and goes to get the door. Oh my god these awkward teenagers i hate them so much (i love them). Peter kinda looks like shit, sorry king. He was a little bit crying earlier, then tony called and he switched into stressed out ball-of-anxiety mode. Distractions are good, its okay. Peter opens the door for harley and they like introduce each other all awkward (again sorry) and peter shows harley where he is staying. Harley doesnt really have muchhhh bc he was kicked out and all. He just has a suitcase full of clothes, his favorite blanket, his favorite stuffed animal (yeah whatever bc ofc he does) and his phone/charger. He sets all his stuff down at once. He thanks peter for letting him stay in his apartment and also said sorry. First thing peter noticed was harley’s accent. Stfu. peter asks why harley’s here- ok. Harleys had a long ass day. Too fucking long. He- he breaks down. He tells peter a lot. About how his mom found out that he was gay, and how she told him never to come back. Yikes. Anyways, this is establishing the beginning of their relationship as friends. Peter is there for him even though he doesn’t know him at all. Peter sees some of himself in harley in this moment, even though he’s not talking about himself yet. Eventually harley does ask about peter, and they really just get to know each other really quick. They have these deep scarring individual traumas, and neither has nearly recovered, but they find comfort in just knowing that theyre not alone in their suffering. At least for now. At least in this moment.

Section 5: the next day. Peter and harley spent that whole night talking about what they were going through. Peter said good night at around 5 am (there were no adults around they can do what they want to) and they both got good sleeps. In peter’s case, one of the first solid nights he’s had in a while. Harley was kept up a little longer after peter left, however, because he just couldn’t shut off his mind. It was really cathartic for him to just lay everything out there and for someone to just accept him. Peter told him he was bi, but he was.. Lucky. He had accepting people in his life. May was accepting. God, harley couldn’t fathom having lost everyone in his life, everyone he ever cared about, and still having the heart to sit and talk with the dumbass anxious gay kid who can’t go home anymore. His problems felt so small compared to peter’s, and all he could do was admire peter’s resilience and how he was seemingly able to bounce back from anything. God, peter was something. He couldn’t wait to get to know him more. With that thought circling in his head, he finally went to sleep at oh shit 6:30 am. Peter woke up around 1. Harley at 2. When harley woke up, peter was watching tv and eating cereal on the couch and he just sat down next to him. No words, just sleepy children being sleepy. They stayed like this for like an hour when someone knocked on their door. Enter stephen strange!!!!!!!!!!! Get excited people. Hes just coming in to check on them bc tony told him to, and he didn’t get the chance last night bc he was _busy_. K so now he’s here and hes awkward and he just wants to make sure these boys r okay bc theyve both been through too much recently, and it would be just the cherry on top if they didn’t get along. Him and harley had never actually met before so he like introduced himself and all that. Offered like if they needed anything he was there, and its only gonna be a few days until tony gets back (did i say a week earlier? Im retconning that bc i cannot find it in my writing so it is now retconned). Peter and harley just have to sort of explain to dr strange that theyre getting along gREAT and there is no need for concern….. And peter was even thinking about showing harley around the city a bit that night (something he had not yet told harley, but wanted to make it seem like he was doing well and not acting too depressed in front of Dr. Strange) so dr strange is like yeah !!!!!! do that, that sounds super fun petey !!!!!! and so now they have evening plans

ok ps I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and completely forgot I posted something on Tumblr about this fic idea, and so this is literally just how I talk to myself. was not gonna ever post this but then I decided to because I'm bored. there are more sections but I'm not gonna post them rn because this post is really fucking long already!!!!

#hope this is marketable?? #sort of just wanted to share my 4 am writing tbh #it doesn't make sense just go w it #parkner #peter parker #harley keener

[shadedrose01]

There's Bones in my Closet (But You Hang Stuff Anyways)

An irondad (with Harley focus) sickfic I wrote in a day :)

Tw for vomiting and sickness in general 💗💗

~~

It starts out slow, as most things tend to do.

When he woke up late one morning, feeling more exhausted than he did falling asleep the night before. When his muscles had ached as he forced himself out of bed in a rush to prepare for school, before Happy threatened to leave him behind (Harley knows he never actually would, though, the man cares too much about him even if he refuses to admit it). When the lingering feeling of exhaustion had seeped into his bones, and stayed for the rest of the day.

He should've known the warning signs, should've realized that he was falling ill, but it didn't really hit him until now.

Now, when he's in the lab, trying to focus on his homework through the sudden pounding in his head, not helped by the thruming music surrounding them (he normally can zone it out, it usually helps him focus, but today it feels like nails on a chalkboard). Now, when his stomach starts to twist uncomfortably, making his shift and swallow. Now, when the last person he would want to find out about his sickness is stood two feet away from him, humming along to the beat and messing around with holograms of some type of project that Harley can't remember.

Well, it isn't like Harley doesn't want him to find out, it's just... well...

Two days ago, Peter had come down with the stomach flu, and had been stationed upstairs ever since. Tony's been looking after him while May's been away on vacation for the first time in years, and he knows how stressed Tony is about Peter and how much he cares for Peter like a son, and he doesn't-

He knows (or, thinks, anyways) that Tony doesn't really feel the same way. About him. Or at least doesn't act the same around him. Sure, he knows Tony cares, why would he have let him stay at the tower to look for universities if he doesn't, but...

He just doesn't want to be a bother, more than he already is.

So he tries not to say anything, tries to keep it on the down low, even as the words of his notebook start to spin in front of his eyes (or maybe that's just his vision in general), and his head starts to throb heavily, again and again and again, his stomach churning dangerously, choppy like waves during a storm, until it squeezes harshly, lurches-

Oh no.

He scrambles for the smaller plastic garbage can placed under his desk, leaning his face into it and swallowing once, twice, breathing heavily through his nose trying to keep the waves at bay, trying to keep his lunch down, but its futile, and before long, hes ducking further and gagging into the bucket.

He hears a loud curse from behind them, before the music shuts off suddenly, and then there's a hand on his back, heavy and soothing, rubbing up and down as he gasps and heaves. "Its okay, you're okay," Tony murmurs, but his voice is higher pitched with shock and slight panic, and it makes Harley's chest squeeze, makes him lean into another spasm and whimper. "Shh, you're okay, just let it all out, buddy."

They sit like this for a few moments, Tony whispering comforting things while Harley grasps shakily onto the bucket before he finally feels stable enough to pull his head away, spitting one last piece of bile into the bucket but leaning back heavily onto Tony with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut as his stomach turns uneasily. "There you go, nice and easy," He feels Tony shift, before there's a napkin wiping at his mouth. "Gosh, you're warm." The hand then raises to his forehead, and Harley leans into it, the coolness of the back of his palm easing the ache in his skull. "How long have you been feeling like this, bub?"

It isn't said accusingly, quite the opposite, in a soft hushed tone, but Harley still flinches slightly, squeezing his eyes shut tighter as he feels them burn. "I'm sorry," He croaks out instead, his voice rough and throat raw, and Tony quickly shushes him, quickly reassures.

"No no, its okay, none of that." His hand rubs heavily on his back for a second as he sighs lightly, before he leans into Harley's peripheral vision, smiling gently at him, even as a weird emotion swirls in his eyes. "You think you can make it upstairs or do we need a few more minutes?"

Harley pauses, focuses on his body, feels his muscles aching and his head pounding, a jackhammer digging into his skull, but his stomach is settled, for the moment, so he nods once, slow and careful. "'can make it." He mumbles, and Tony's smile widens slightly, even as his eyebrows furrow more.

They don't say anything else after that, Tony helping Harley to stand (slowly, slowly as his leg tremble and his body screams, the room spinning for a few seconds), and then, after waiting a few seconds to make sure his stomach resettles again, the shift making him queasy, they approach the elevator. The ride up feels like the worst thing Harleys ever experienced, the slight vibrations and heavy hum feeling like a hammer crashing into his brain again and again and again, but thankfully, thankfully it doesn't last too long, and they're out into the penthouse before Harley can blink.

Before they can stumble too far into the room, though, making their way towards the other couch not taken already by a still sick spiderboy, Harley freezes, feeling his stomach starting to twist again. "To-" He starts, but can't finish, can't do much of anything except turn around, the wave coming on too quick for anyone, even himself, to stop, and the next thing he knows, there's vomit on the laminate flooring and Harleys coughing for air.

And then, the emotions set in. The panic, the pain, the anxiety, the fears, the overwhelming guilt rushes over him like a stampede, all of it comes to the forefront and bubbles over like a science experiment gone wrong. It doesn't help that right at that moment, two other people speak up, Peter from the couch, with a "Dad? Harley?" And a more feminine voice, Pepper, from further away, saying with all the pity in the world, "Oh no, him too?"

And then Harleys sobbing, tears pouring down his cheek and wheezing out, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-"

"Hey, hey," Tony brushes away the hair falling into (and sticking to) his face, now sounding really panicked. "Its okay, you're okay."

"I didn't- didn't mean to-"

"Oh baby," Pepper chips back in, and she's beside him now, suddenly, her hand on his shuttering shoulder rubbing gentle circles with her thumb. "We know, you're alright. Come on, let's go lie down, hm?" Her voice is soft, soothing, and reminds him so much of his ma, he wants his ma, that he can't really do anything against it, leaning into his touch as she slowly maneuvers him onto the other couch, carefully laying a blanket over his still sniffling, still shaking frame as Tony grabs another, clean bucket to place at his side, just in case. She speaks to the older man, then, running a gentle hand through Harley's hair almost subconsciously, whispering. "I didn't know he was sick?"

"I didn't either," Tony whispers back lowly, the two of them acting as if Harley wasn't sat right in front of them, acting like he couldn't hear them.

It just makes him shake out another sob, burying his face into the arm of the couch. "Im sorry. 'Didn't- didn't wanna bother."

There's a pained noise, then, and another hand is on his face, a calloused thumb wiping at his cheek softly. "You aren't bothering us, kid." Harley only glances up at him with one teary eye, the other still buried into the fabric. "You could never bother us." Tony looks so serious, then, that Harley can't help but believe him, can't help but hear the underlying meaning hidden between the words. You could never be a bother to me. "I want you to tell us when you're upset, or don't feel well, okay, bug?"

There's a playful, teasing huff of "my nickname" from the other couch, and Tony snorts, but Harley doesn't pay it any mind, just leans forward until his face is pressed into Tony's shirt, the mans arms wrapped around him tight. He nods, then, to show that he heard, and Tony presses a kiss to his head before letting go, letting him lean back onto the cushions, sinking back into the couch with a light groan.

"Get some rest, okay, sweetheart?"

He blinks back up at Pepper blarily, nodding once and uttering a quick, "'kay," and, before he can think on it too much, his eyes shutting again as he curls back up, "Love you."

Just before the exhaustion of the days events pulls him under, he feels two faint kisses pressed to his face, one to his forehead and another to his cheek, before the soft murmur of a "Love you too, buddy." Lulls him into slumber, a faint smile etched onto his face.

#iron dad #harley keener #tony stark #pepper potts #peter parker #irondad #sickfic #drabble #tw vomiting #vomiting tw #vomiting #sickness #tw sickness #sickness tw

[littlemissagrafina]

Comfortember Day 18. Hot Cocoa

The Mayday Cafe

@comfortember

Read On AO3

There was a quaint little cafe nestled in the side of a nondescript building in Queens. A little sign hanging over the door with the words The Mayday Cafe pressed into the weather worn but strong steel. Many people passed it by each day without knowing it was there, but there were many, still, who knew of its existence.

From the outside it wasn't much, its perpetually slightly misted windows not showing much of the inner workings of the few employees and owners to the street but let a warm light filter through on early mornings and sun kissed evenings.

It had become a favourite of the residents and commuters of the surrounding area, it's food and drink were always decadent, always and fresh; the service and friendliness of its staff and owners only served to make it sweeter.

Just as it was a favourite of its regular customers, it was a favourite of a boy with curly brown hair who loved to wear nerdy T-shirts with any outfit he could wear them with.

Peter had loved the cafe ever since he could remember and he remembered a lot.

He remembered when his parents were still alive, how they would take him to visit the little shop. May would greet him with a kiss to his nose and Ben would swing him up to sit on the counter next to him as the man worked.

Peter would watch as he knead and rolled different dough for pastries and biscuits, mixed together the batters for cakes, sponges, and muffins. To the little boy it all looked like magic. It tasted like it too, when Ben would pass him bits of the "mini munchies" he always made for Peter to taste.

Eventually as Peter grew more steady and less clumsy, Ben would set him up on a stool next to him so that he was tall enough to reach the counter and he would help his uncle add and mix different ingredients. One day he was even able to crack an egg without getting any of the shells in the mixture!

Peter hopped off of his stool, careful not to bump anything that was on the counter and ran off to tell his parents and May about his professional egg cracking skills. They all praised him with wide, beaming smiles, proclaiming him the mini master chef.

With a proud grin, Peter turned and ran through the doors to the kitchen in the back of the cafe only to trip on a bag of flour, the powder exploding into the air around him as laughter from his family rang like bells at the sight.

---

When Peter was little he had always dreamed of spending all of his days at Mayday with Ben and May but he had never known that he would get it at the expense of his parents.

After the plane crash he was sent to live with his Aunt and Uncle. It just made sense. He had never thought that it almost hadn't happened, that they had fought tooth and nail against CPS to adopt him when they protested for Peter's welfare at the lack of extra money they couple would have after taking him on. They won though, they got their kid and May only had to pick up a few extra evening shifts at a local clinic for it to work.

The woman had worried about leaving Ben without her help at the cafe so much more often but he had reassured her that he would be okay. Ben told her that Peter's friend Ned's older sister offered to help out for free as long as she was able to snack on a couple of the delicious foods that Ben made. They couple had protested originally, not wanting to have the teenager to work for nothing but eventually they were worn down and Alice Leeds became one of their favourite and most loyal employees they had ever had.

She would even help keep Ned and Peter entertained when they sat in the cafe after school while Alice and Ned's parents worked and May and Ben were busy with the clinic and cafe.

As the boy's grew Peter started helping Ben more with different tasks in the little shop. He would help with taking orders and then walking them to the customers. He was also getting better with his baking that Ben would let him make some of the easy muffin and cake recipes by himself until Peter had perfected them almost to the level of his uncle. Ben would joke that he was easily good enough to take over the own man's job.

Peter would always laugh it off, saying he wasn't nearly as good as his uncle. He had thought that if he did take over, it would be because Ben and May had decided to retire. Never once had it crossed his mind that he would have to do it so soon.

But it was. Peter and May lost Ben, they lost the man who was such a part of them and it hit the both of them hard.

May couldn't keep them afloat anymore, the cost of their apartment and the cafe and Peter's school supplies were too much for her single job. She tried picking up more shifts, finding another job, but it wasn't enough.

It scared her that they could lose the one thing they had left of Ben, that they could lose the little cafe that was so dear to them.

Peter wished he could help but no job he could find paid enough. The ones he did find didn't work out because of the hours he had to spend at school and then the cafe.

But May and Peter did it all for as long as they could, hope and funds dwindling away as the days went.

Until Harley Keener walked through the door.

---

Raindrops fell hard and heavy from the deep grey clouds gathered high above the towering New York buildings.

Most people had remembered their umbrellas after checking the weather in the morning and hearing on the news the evening before about the rains expected to come.

Everyone but one Harley Keener. No, he had forgotten his up in his room at the penthouse level of Stark Tower. Yes, you heard that right. Stark Tower, where Harley stayed because of an opportunity from Tony to work on a higher level of education in the city rather than be stuck in Rose Hill forever.

So here he was, darting down a street in Queens because not only had he forgotten his umbrella but he had missed his bus as well. Getting more soaked as the seconds passed, Harley spotted but looked like the sign to a little cafe tucked into the side of a building.

He ran towards it, careful  not to slip on the slick pavement under his feet. Slipping in through the door, he was hit with a wave of sweet smelling warmth and a familiar voice calling out a greeting. Footsteps came towards him and a towel was held out to him. Filling the towel his eyes trailed up the arm and chest to the head of curls he would see in the halls of Midtown and occasionally in class.

"Peter, right? Seen you in school, we've been partnered a few times." Harley asked as he gratefully took the towel, drying off as he took in the sight and smell of the cafe. "You work here?"

Peter Parker smiled at him, eyes tired but bright. "Own it actually. With my aunt. I work here after school." He explained, before his face turned a little red. It was cute.

"Uh, yeah. Peter. Parker. I'm uh, I'm Peter Parker." The brown eyed teen said awkwardly before coughing and gesturing to one of the tables behind him. "How would you like something warm to eat or drink?"

"I would love that."

Harley left that day, a $30 tip on the table, and his number on a napkin.

Peter sent him a message that night and neither knew how it happened but they started speaking every day. Harley started sitting with Peter, Ned, and MJ at lunch, he joined them on projects and assignments.

Somewhere along the line the smiles and looks they shared changed, the late night conversations becoming more close and intimate than either had expected.

Harley showed up one day at Mayday with a single rose, asking Peter if he would go to a movie with him, and Peter (to Harley's delight) accepted.

From that day on, Harley visited the cafe and had a drink and some food. Come rain or shine, after school he was there.

It didn't surprise Harley when Tony became curious about the cafe that Harley spent so much time at and the boy he spoke so much about.

And so Tony decided that he wanted to meet Peter. What better way to do that than to visit the very cafe the boy worked at?

---

When Tony Stark followed Harley through the door, Peter's eyes widened. His boyfriend had told him about Tony, how they met and how the two had bonded and become closer after Tony had brought Harley up to New York.

Peter had heard stories of the man blowing up toasters because he was bored and making a flying pen during a meeting that he'd been stuck in.

The stories still didn't take away from the awe and admiration of seeing his idol in the flesh.

Harley pulled Tony over to where Peter had been sitting and working on his homework in the spare time where the cafe was empty of other customers. Sitting himself down and planting a kiss to Peter's cheek. Once Tony sat down, he introduced the two.

"It's uh, it's really awesome to meet you, Mr. Stark." Peter grinned at the man and Harley could see the energy and awe trying to break through his attempt at a calm appearance.

Tony gave an easy smile. "Good to meet you too, Mr. Parker. Harley's told me a lot about you, seems you have our resident potato gun expert wrapped around your finger." The man teased, delighting in the flush that appeared on both boy's cheeks.

"Oh!" Peter jumped up from the table, a few papers sliding across the table in his haste. The teen darted towards the counter and placed a menu in front of Tony. "Is there anything I can get you, sir?"

Tony frowned slightly at the moniker but knew from Harley that there would be no quick or easy way to convince Peter to call him Tony. He glanced over the menu, deciding to go with an apple danish and a hot chocolate, forgoing his usual black coffee for something different.

When Peter made his way to start the hot chocolate and grab a fresh danish, Tony's eye caught on one of the papers that had scattered on the table moments before in Peter's jump to grab a menu. Tony reached out and slid the nearest one closer, his eyebrows rising when he read over the formulae and calculations scrawled over the page.

Just then, Peter returned, cocoa and danish in hand. He set it down in front of Tony, a flush setting on his cheeks for a second time when he saw his homework in the man's hand. "Sorry, I'll tidy it up in a moment!"

"Wait. Peter, this is good. Really good." Tony stopped him, "I knew you were smart, I mean Harley met you at Midtown, but this… this is high level, kid." Tony looked at Peter.

Peter looked back at him, eyes shining at the praise from Tony even though he didn't know what to say to it. "Thank you. It's not much though, I mean there are way smarter people around!"

"Hey," Harley elbowed him. "Don't sell yourself short, Darlin', you're pretty awesome."

Peter looked down at the table, fidgeting with one of his pens. Tony's voice had him looking up again.

"I want to offer you an internship. This right here," Tony gestured to the paper he was still holding, "Is impressive, and I want to know what else you can do."

"I– I don't know what to say. It would be amazing, Mr. Stark, truly, but…"

"Harley's already told me about the time you spend here. If you accept, you would have flexible hours so that you could come in on the days you don't have any clubs or anything at school or you could come in the evenings or mornings."

Peter started at Tony for a few moments, thoughts running through his head. "Why me? You don't even really know me. You could have someone so much smarter and you're asking me."

"Because these papers show your potential. I also know that these equations right here aren't high school level, even for STEM. I wanna have you in my labs and I want to see what you can really do." Tony spoke passionately, his eyes light at the prospect of being able to teach and watch what Peter would be able to achieve.

"What'dya say, Mr Parker? Do you accept?"

Peter wasn't sure what did it, whether it was the practically unbelievable chance to intern under Tony Stark, the encouragement from said man, or the desire to be challenged in his education for once. He wasn't sure but looking back, he thanked it for the rest of his life.

"I accept."

#irondad #spiderson #comfortember 2020 #peter parker #tony stark #ironman #spider-man #irondad fanfic #irondad fanfiction

[yesanotherimaneblog]

One more such victory

Summary: What happens after Tony snaps his fingers

Warning: Character dealing with parent death

A/N: Sorry this took so long, I went on vaycation and then I wasn’t quite sure how to finish this but here it is, hope you like it

“Dad?!” You whispered, there were tears in your eyes. “Dad! I’m here, I’m okay!”

Pepper was next to you, her hand on top of yours as you clutched your dads’ heart, his hand trying to hold both of yours. “You can rest now.”

Your dad turned to you one last time and you barely saw his lips move as he whispered “I love you” for the last time, the reactor went dark and his hand fell on the ground.

Pepper finally allowed herself to break down and you stood up turning around. You saw everyone starting to kneel and you looked around completely lost, trying to process what had just happened. Uncle Rhodey saw you and moved to hug you but you raised your hands trying to stop him. “No!” you said and stepped back, “NO!” hugging him would only make all of this real, “NO!” hugging him would mean that your dad was actually dead. You continued to sob, he couldn’t be dead, you had won, then why did it not feel like winning? You looked around again, everyone was kneeling but you only looked for one man. Strange was kneeling, looking at the ground but he looked up when you approached him, tears in your eyes. “Bring him back!” You had meant for it to come out as an order but it came more like a child’s request. He looked up to you, confused, “Y/N I-” “We have the time stone!” You pleaded but he shook his head, “It doesn’t work like that. I’m sor-”. You turned around before he could finish his sentence, going to Steve and Thor instead. “We have the stones! You can snap your fingers and bring him back!” They both looked at you and you knew they would refuse before Steve even opened his mouth to speak “Y/N”.

You turned back to your fathers body, the tears kept falling but your mind had gone numb. If they wouldn’t do it, you would, you decided and lunged for the stones. Uncle Rhodey and Peter stopped you but because of your momentum you fell down. They both bend down to help you get up, “What were you thinking Y/N” Rhodey said, taking your hand and pulling you up. “I can’t I- I-”, you fell to your knees again screaming and crying, and both Rhodey and Peter bend down to hug you but you tried freeing yourself from their hold. You didn’t succeed, they were too strong, avoiding your punches as you tried to get away. You couldn’t breathe, your father was dead and you couldn’t breathe. “No! Please! Bring him back!” You looked around at everyone trying to find someone to help but no one moved. “Please, just bring him back! I can’t-“ you turned to Rhodey, trying to tell him that you couldn’t breathe you couldn’t think but all that came out of your mouth was “bring him back!” until everything around you turned black.

You woke up slowly, your mind started working properly before your body and you realized they must have given you a sedative. You could feel someone curled next to you and you guessed it was Morgan, someone was holding your hand, you couldn’t understand who. Voices came from the back of the room, “She should be waking up in any minute,” Bruce, “I gave her some fluids to prevent dehydration, though I don’t think it will matter after she wakes up.” “She scared me!��� Pepper, part of you felt ashamed hearing you had made her worry, she had also lost a loved one she needed you to be there for her.

You realized you once again had control over your body and opened your eyes. Morgan was indeed by your side, curled up in a ball, you could tell she had been crying. Peter was, unsurprisingly, the person holding your hand but he had fallen asleep. You looked around and realized you were back in your room. You were about to speak up when Pepper noticed you were awake and rushed to you, “Hey baby, you’re ok, we’ll be ok!” you weren’t sure if she was trying to reassure you or herself but were grateful, nonetheless. “I’m sorry I made you worry!” you said but your voice sounded strange, “I should have been there for you and Morgan, and for Rhodey and Peter.” “It’s fine Y/N, we all process grief differently.” She said, holding your free hand. Bruce coughed a little to remind you of his presence, “I’ll go tell the others you’re awake.”

“Who else is here? Have I been out long?” You asked, once Bruce was out of the room. “Just a few hours,” she reassured you, “May came because Peter refused to leave your side and because her apartment is currently occupied. Happy is here and so are Rhodey and Nebula, the others left about an hour ago.” She paused for a second before continuing, “Harley is coming sometime tomorrow, maybe the day after that we can have a ceremony. Something quiet, just for us.” She suggested and you gulped. Tears began forming in your eyes again and you nodded, “We can use the original arc reactor. You know the one you gave back to him.” She nodded, there were tears in her eyes too and you sat up, careful not to wake Morgan and Peter and hugged her tightly.

You didn’t do a very good job though as both Peter and Morgan began to stir awake. Peter was the first to wake, his eyes were puffy and red, you hugged him tightly and felt him crying. “I’m sorry!” he whispered in your ear. You pulled back so you could look him in the eyes, “It’s not your fault Peter! It’s no one’s fault! He- he chose this, for us! So, we would be safe!”

You quickly wiped away your tears, feeling Morgan sit up next to you before turning to her. You tried putting on a brave face for her but you could tell you weren’t doing a great job. “Hey little one,” you took her hand, “how are you?” She looked at you sadly and hugged you, you could feel her small body shake from the sobs and you started crying again as well, Peter trying and failing to put on a brave face as he started crying again as well.

Time lost meaning after that. Pepper left you with Morgan and Peter so she could prepare for the funeral, you offered to help but she declined. You stayed in bed the rest of the night and the next day, drifting in and out of consciousness, crying when you were awake. You knew you should be out there helping everyone get settled into this new reality and show them that you would help protect them, because you were the Stark in Stark Industries, at least until Morgan was old enough to join you, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bear the thought of facing a world without your father in it. The thought left you paralyzed. You had lost your protector and your biggest fan, the person who could listen to you go on and on about whatever subject you were interested in that day, whether it was genetics,  philosophy or just a new Netflix show. And that made you numb.

Peter and Morgan stayed by your side the whole time, Nebula joined you sometime during the night but she didn’t speak, only stood at the end of the bed, silently watching over you. You only got out of bed once, scarring everyone as you ran downstairs the second you heard the car engine, to greet Harley at the front door. You crushed into his arms and he hugged you tightly as you began to sob again, you could feel him crying as well. After you had cried your eyes out once again, Harley all but carried you back to your room and with Peters help they convinced you to take a shower. Getting out of the shower you felt slightly better, though you weren’t sure if you were just becoming numb, you found them all in your room with different kinds of snacks on your bed as well as some drinks. You drank a few glasses of water but stayed away from the food until Nebula commanded you to eat. You were about to say you weren’t hungry when you saw Morgan and Peter giving you a pleading look. You sighed and Harley passed you your favorite snack.

You sat in silence until Morgan shyly asked Peter for stories with your dad. She had heard a lot of them but she wanted to hear them again, but in the end she was the one who fell asleep first, curled up between you and Peter as the rest of you continued to swap stories. Sometimes you’d end up laughing and sometimes you ended up crying but some how it felt good talking about him. You fell asleep with Harley behind you, his hand around your waist, reaching over Morgan to hold Peters hand, and Nebula staying watch at the end of the bed.

You woke up suddenly, cold sweat running down your forehead as you looked around. Nebula had moved to the window, looking out, while Peter was still asleep next to you. Harley and Morgan were nowhere to be found. You opened your mouth to speak but Nebula spoke before you could, “Harley took her to her room, he’s downstairs with your mother,” she whispered, careful not to wake Peter, “Go back to sleep, he’ll be back in a minute, and I’m here, I’ll protect you.” She continued and you couldn’t argue with her so you snuggled closer to Peter. Now without Morgan between you you laid down on his chest and closed your eyes. You didn’t fall entirely asleep until you felt the bed dip and a hand wrap around your waist.

You woke up the next day feeling terrible. Dehydration had really started to take its toll on you, with the amount of crying you had done the last 2 days you guest the only reason you were at least halfway ok was because of the fluids Bruce had given you and also all the water Harley and Peter had gotten you to drink. You thought about going to get a glass of water but you realized you couldn’t move. Both boys had their arms tightly wrapped around you and you began to wonder how you had gotten even an ounce of sleep with how uncomfortable it was. You raised your head, looking for Nebula to ask for help but you couldn’t see her anywhere. “Fri?” You whispered and a video feed started playing, showing you footage of the kitchen.

“She’s lucky to have them.” “She is.” Nebula and Pepper were talking, you tried to figure out what they were talking about. “They will make her choose.” It was a statement, but Pepper was quick to disagree. “They might fight each other but they wont make her choose, they love her too much for that.”

The feed was cut by your phone vibrating, and Friday pulling up your messages so you didn’t have to move. It was from Sam “Hey, can you talk?”, a second one came up “It’s about today” .

You sighed, standing up as carefully as you could but with the way your bodies were entangled you couldn’t help but wake the boys. They blinked at you and you gave them a half smile, “I think we should start getting ready.” You said and they nodded, both of them went to stand up, Peter giving your hand a squeeze and Harley kissing your forehead before exiting the room.

You took a deep breath and grabbed your phone, calling Sam. He answered immediately. “Hey, look I’m sorry I didn’t want to disturb you, I would have called Pepper but I feel like this is more your right.” “Sam-” you cut him, your voice startled you for a second, it didn’t sound like you, too tired. Before you could think too much on it, Sam spoke again, “Bucky doesn’t want to come to the funeral. He thinks Tony wouldn’t have wanted him there, because of the whole parents thing.” You shook your head, your free hand coming up to rub your temples, “way to downplay my grandparents murder Bird Boy. Tell Red Dawn he can come, unlike other people we don’t blame guns in this family, only the people pointing them.” You ended the call before he could say anything, your words were a clear attack to Wanda, something you had kept inside for years, if she wanted to cause a scene today it wouldn’t matter, maybe it would be a good thing, you were ready for the anger stage of grief to begin.

You went into your closet, quickly getting dressed in a simple black dress and headed downstairs, people had started to gather. Panic began to settle at the pit of your stomach, the realization of what was happening hitting you once again. You started hyperventilating and searched for the nearest wall to steady yourself, that wall happened to be Rhodey, who caught you and gently guided you to sit, kneeling in front of you. “Come on Y/N deep breaths, take deep breaths,” you closed your eyes trying to focus but he shook your hand gently, “open your eyes baby girl, come on, you know the drill, Y/N tell me 5 things you see. No don’t, she needs space.” The last part wasn’t meant for you, he was talking to someone, you opened your eyes and tried to focus, 5 things what were 5 things you could see. “You, I see you, Uncle Rhodey, and Peter and Harley, I see this chair that I’m sitting on and… and this dress, my dress.” “Good, good! Come on, now 4 things you can touch.” You reached up, “My hair,” you started, you reached to your right, touching a hand and you looked there, it was Peter, his hands on your chair, a worried look on his face, “Peters hand”, you reached to your left, a fabric, “Harleys suit,” you looked back to Rhodey and reached out to touch his face, “Honey bear.” He smiled at that, neither of you moving as your hands remained on his face and he smiled a little. “Guess we don’t have to go over the next 3.” He said and you gave him a week smile. “You think you can come back to the living room?” You looked at him confused for a second but then realized you were in the kitchen, Rhodey guided you here so the others wouldn’t see you. You took a deep breath and nodded, letting the three men gently help and guide you to the living room.

After your fathers message which once more left you in tears, you walked with Pepper down the dock, grabbing Peter and Harley, and later Nebula and positioning them just behind Rhodey and Happy as you said your last goodbye. You knew it would have been how your father would have wanted it, they may not have been biologically related to him, but the three of them were as much Tony Starks children as you and Morgan.

You stood in front of the garage after the ceremony, dreading going in. You heard footsteps behind you and expected to see Harley and Peter but instead it was Pepper who had found you. She stood next to you, looking at the door, “Did you tell them?” You asked finally. She shook her head, “I didn’t know how.” You nodded, “Do you think Friday did?” “I don’t know but even if she did they deserve to hear it from us as well.” Pepper said taking your hand in hers.

“DUM-E is gonna be devastated.”

“They all are, they loved him.”

“He was their father.”

“Come on, let’s go tell them, we’ve waited long enough.”

#tony stark #dad!tony #reader insert #imagine #marvel imagine #marvel endgame #avengers endgame #stark reader #stark!reader #stark!daughter #peter parker imagine #peter parker #spiderman #marvel #harley keener #pepper potts #tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #Robert Downey Jr #rdj #dum-e

[diary4]

04/06/2018 - night

  Well I mean technically it’s the early morning of the fifth by now but anyway.

  I just had to do another one of those horrible goodnight goodbyes. Every night it gets even harder to convince myself that it isn’t the last goodbye, that she’ll still be here in the morning. I don’t know how much longer I can go on with them because the truth is that one night very soon it really will be the last one. Maybe tonight really was the last one. I lay with my head on her chest and her hand on my face. I drew her face like she always used to draw mine - sparse eyebrows because you pluck them naughty, little nose, big brown eyes, red cheekies, thin little lips, foodie in your teeth and lovely chocolate brown hair. I can still feel her beneath my fingers, and I hope I always will. 

  No more morbidity, here’s something interesting. Something that gave me instant, instinctual reassurance that she would still be here tomorrow was Dad saying casually ‘I’ll ask her in the morning if she’s in pain’. It’s utterly remarkable how even the most throw away remark made by a parent is instantly comforting to a child. I know perfectly well that Dad has no more control over what happens to Mum that I do, and no more ability to predict the future. But it’s a hangover from childhood, from asking your parents ‘whats happening’ and them reassuring you ‘don’t worry, it will all be okay’ - and you just instinctively trusting them for no reason other than in the adult child bind there is always implicit that the adult knows something that the child does not. Back when she could still talk (over two weeks ago now) I used to make Mum say it out loud - “it will all be okay, I’ll be okay”. I remember towards the end when we were curled up in her bed together when I asked “how though? how will you be okay?”. By this point modern medicine had deserted us, gone scampering back to the hole whence it came like rats from a sinking ship. “I’ll pray to God” she said. I’ll never forget how she said that. She was really desperate. I don’t think she’s ever been more of a believer than me, that is, she believes helplessly and hopelessly on her knees grovelling to the lord. I think maybe why its so memorable is because it reminded me of a time months ago when she cried and hugged me and said “Don’t take me away from them, God, I won’t let you!”. There we go. Character arch, heavy defeat. When once defiant, she was left begging for mercy. And that’s the saddest fucking thing. My Mum, the original may I speak to the manager, who got into rows with orthodontists and fought tooth and nail, muma bear style, to get us everything and anything we might want. Who wouldn’t think twice about confronting any number of high level official to get her way, be it a cheap cinema ticket or a first class upgrade or the money back off a coupon that expired before we were born. She was fearless, she was ‘that bitch’, and she never took the answer ‘no’. And yet there they were, all the great bastions of modern medicine slamming their church doors in her face. And there she was, kicked out by all but the final incumbent of Harley Street, the door they only ever came knocking on when all the others had proved no good, and which out of bitterness for being left till last would fain never open except in ancient myth or rumor. There she was, begging to God to drop some miracle vial out an upstairs window into her outstretched fingers and with barely an effortless twitch of his omnipotent pinkie grant her another half decade chortling on the sofa to our old antics.

I wish it was anyone but her. I wish it was Dad or Uncle Tony or Auntie Angie. I wish it was anyone elses Mum. I’ve given it serious thought and come to the conclusion that in this, I would be totally selfish. I would, as Dad said that one night, ‘murder someone’ - ‘if I had to kill someone to make you better I’d go out and do it tomorrow’. Better still, I’d kill a baby. I would kick in the head of ten innocent babies playing in a sand pit, if it meant I could make you better, even for a year or two. That’s right. And Mr Wright and his ethics of ‘results don’t justify actions’ can literally, go fuck themselves, because do you know what he’s a forty year old married man with children and a full set of parents swaddled up in a bungalow somewhere, and I’m twenty watching my Mum died on the front room sofa and my Dad twist his face in an effort not to cry. So fuck you normality. 

  And yes, I have given it serious thought, and I think I would rather it was Dad. because Mum’s the missing link, because with Mum we would still be ‘the girls’, because Mum still has more of a life with her friends and her parents, and because Mum would find it easier to get over him and find someone new. I don’t want to get vehement about this because I’ll probably wind up hating my one remaining parent; but there you go. 

  I think the only person I really wouldn’t swap is Eliana. And perhaps myself - though I’m not entirely convince on that one yet. 

  I don’t even remember why I wanted to write this entry now. Oh yeah - Death: A Prequel. 

Before I do forget though, here’s something else I also wanted to say - and that is that I wish I knew Mum better. I know her pretty damn well, but I wish I knew the ins and outs, the thought train. I think I’ll leave my diaries to my children so that, if they wish, they can take a ride on my thought train any time of day. Won’t matter when I’m gone if they lose some respect for me - and besides, I’m not a totally disrespectable person, and thanks to the big old ego I come off pretty well in the diaries anyway. 

But: Death: A Prequel, and it’s sequel, Death: A Sequel. Potential title ideas for that novel about the circus act that gather around dying people, the death of Stalin esque thing, but for an everyman. It’s got a blockbustery feel which is nice. However, while Death: A Prequel nicely alludes to the act of Dying, Death: A Prequel implies the afterlife a little to much. Maybe ‘afterlife’ = a state of mourning - post life, even if it is someone elses life. Does mourning parallel the after life - well yes in that we just don’t know whats coming, we dread it, but we also perversely anticipate the release. What’s the further implication - that by making a prequel and a sequel of death we’re actually skipping the main event, the death itself, which is exactly what we are doing. It’s not about the dying person, it’s about those around them, and the gap where they are (glaringly) not - in the titular film that should connect the two. The sense of absence and missing. It’s a horribly morbid title though, and it could definitely be sexier, so maybe I’ll scrap it completely, or just have it as a subtitle or work it into the prose. 

PS. Quick side thought from glancing through this - that stuff about kicking in babies skulls could make a great bit of speech. Samuel L. Jackson voice; “I, wearing steel toe capped motherfuckin leather boots, would kick a baby in the head as hard as if it were a football I wanted to back corner in the bloody goal of the world cup final (final minutes).” etc. ‘melon’? English accent, not SLJ - needs be for ‘bloody goal’ and ‘world cup’

[shadedrose01]

hey! I absolutely love your writing & I was just wondering if you could do something where peter & Harley are dating but Harley doesn’t post or comment about their relationship and peter gets really insecure thinking it’s cause he’s not good enough 🥺

Honey Lavender

Thanks for the prompt, anon! It's not exactly what you asked for (sorry!), but I hope it's still okay! I hope you, and everybody else enjoys!

Slight Trigger Warning: there are mentions of homophobia, but nothing shown :)

--

Peter drops his bags onto the guest bed, a cloud of dust puffing into the air and causing him to sneeze.

"Oh dear, we havent dusted this room in a while, I'm sorry love." Ms. Keener ("Call me Macy, dear, we're family!") apologizes, rubbing an arm over the bedsheets to collect any of the remaining dust bunnies still attached to the linen, pieces of her dark chestnut brown hair falling out of her bun and into her face.

Peter flails his arms a bit, trying to reassure her quickly. "No, no, it's okay, its perfect, thank you so much, Ms- Macy." He corrects himself as she sends him a playful glare over her shoulder.

"Miss Macy? That's a new one." Another voice pitches in from the doorframe, cheeky, Harley's thin but muscular body leaning against the wooden panels with a grin highlighting his dimples, his baby blues twinkling.

"Harley James Keener, you be nice now!" Macy chides, leaning closer to smack him upside the head, Harley ducking around her hand with a chuckle. Peter watches the scene with a small smile, with only grows as boyfriend comes to wrap his arms around his waist in a tight squeezed hug.

Peter was (finally) visiting Rose Hill for the first time, after over a year of him and Harley dating, and he couldn't be more excited. He was still battling jetlag, and reeling from all the distinct differences between Rose Hill and Queens ('There's barely any noise out here, no cars horns or people yelling or anything'), but he had always wanted to come, always wanted to meet Harley's family and see just how the southern belle of his had been raised. And just a few minutes in, after having reached the Keener farm and having met Macy and Abbie (a spitfire is the only way he could describe her, he loved her already), he was already learning so much more about the small town life, and about his boyfriend, things he didnt even think about, and he adored it. He loved it with every fiber of his being.

"Ma," Harley whined, plopping his chin onto Peter's shoulder and rocking them back and forth, causing Peter to giggle. "Don't embarass me!" His accent has grown thicker since he came home a few months ago, after staying with Tony for the summer months, and Peter couldnt help how much he loved it, couldnt help the shivers it caused, Harley sending him a knowing look, eyebrow raised. Peter flushes, knowing that's going to be brought up later, during a more personal time.

"Then don't be rude to Peter." She snarks, sending him a sly wink, which causes Harley to rolls his eyes and Peter to laugh. She makes her way towards the door, swaying her hips and humming under her breath, before she pauses to give them both a hard stare, her vibrant green hazel eyes narrowing slightly. "No funny business, you hear me?"

"Aye aye, captain." Harley salutes lazily, grinning as his mom huffs, the smile on her face betraying her true emotions, and walks out the rest of the way, closing the door most of the way on her way out, only leaving it open a crack.

As soon as his mother is out of sight, the old wooden stairs creaking signaling her departure downstairs, Harley grabs on to his hips and spins him around, pressing a kiss to his lips as soon as he can. It was the first time they've been alone together since Peter landed, so he wasnt surprised at the act, just wrapping his arms around Harley's neck, one hand gripping his back and the other running through his hair, pressing them a little closer together and pushing back into the kiss.

"Missed you," Harley mumbles against his lips, before pulling away, a softer, personal smile tilting his lips, his eyes bright like a hot summer's day. A thumb brushes the skin of his hip from under his shirt, small, soothing motions. "Missed you so much."

"I missed you too, baby. So so very much." Peter puts their foreheads together, and shuts his eyes, sighing constantly as they start to rock gently in their embrace, swaying back and forth to an unknown song, to the beat of their hearts and the rhythm of their souls, combined, intertwined.

They spin a few circles together in silence, just breathing each others air and feeling each others heat, being in the moment, before Harley puffs out a breath, and murmurs shakily. "Pete, there's something I gotta tell you."

He opens his eyes, lifting his head to look into Harley's now stormy ones, swirling and churning with a darkness, a sadness that has Peter's stomach twisting, his heart dropping. What happened? Did he do something? What did he do?

Harley goes to tell him, goes to speak when another feminine voice cuts them off from down the hall.

"Harls, your friends are here!" Abbey yells from what sounds like down the stairs, and Harley flinches back, the embrace and the moment broken.

He calls back a quick "Okay, coming!" Before giving Peter a plastic, shaky smile, eyes wide and panicked. "Come on, let's go say hi, I guess."

"Harley-" He doesnt get the words out as Harley grabs his hand and practically starts dragging him down the stairs, and Peter stifles an annoyed (and worried) sigh, knowing that his boyfriend is clearly not going to answer whatever the heck that was upstairs anymore, now that his friends were here.

Oh well. Time to try and make another good first impression.

They slide their shoes on before going out the white, metal swing door, and onto the painted wooden wrap around porch that encompasses the entire front of the Keener residence. Right in front of the doorway, on the dirt driveway, sits two different ATV's, their engines still humming as they sit in park, their riders still sitting on top, one with one person and the other with a passenger. The person right in the front, with a bright orange ATV, lifts up the visor of their helmet, revealing a boy not much younger than Harley, with shaggy brown hair, oval brown eyes and chubby freckled cheeks, pushed up by a smirk.

"Yo Harley, you comin' out?" The boy yells over the hum of the engine, his voice full of teasing, of mirth. He makes eye contact with Peter, whose interovertive instincts cause him to shrink a little under the gaze, and raises an eyebrow, looking shocked, surprised. "Whose that?"

Harley ignores the second question, looking away as he responds to the first with a shrug, "I can't tonight, EJ, sorry."

"Oh come on, Harls!" The passenger on the other ATV chimes in, a younger girl with curly ginger hair and green eyes, her arms wrapped around the driver. "You never come out anymore."

"And you never answered his question, dude." The driver chimes in, finally, the older man's deeper voice rumbling lower than the engine of the machine, his gray eyes harsh and cold, his lips tilted in a disapproving frown. He nods his head towards Peter, who is now standing dumbly at Harleys side, as he asks, "Who is he? Your boyfriend?"

There's something about the way the man spits out the word that causes a flair of fear, of bubbling anger to rise in his chest, and Peter opens his mouth to spit back, to say loud and proud that why yes, yes he is, when-

"What?" Harley sputters, laughing anxiously, the sound sounding all fake and wrong. "No, of course not! I'm not gay!"

And Peter's heart stops.

His head shoots over to stare at Harley with wide eyes and a gaping mouth, but Harley isnt looking his way, wont look his way, his eyes averted and looking anywhere else but him, and Peter's heart his crumbling, his lung tightening and his throat squeezing as tears fill his eyes.

...what?

"He's just a- a family friend, and I gotta say behind to watch 'em, you know how it is." Harley gazes straight forward as he says this, his voice unwavering, but monotone, obviously forced to Peter but apparently not to his friends as they all laugh and nod.

"Okay, good! You had us worried there for a sec." The boy, EJ, snickers, before putting his visor back down, revving his engine for seemingly no reason. "We'll see ya later?"

"Yeah! Cya!" Harley yells back as the engines roar back to life, the trio pulling out of the driveway and shooting off down the road again, the bright orange ATV doing a wheely on the way down.

Theres a few moments of nothing, a few shattered heartbeats where the two listens to the roars fade into the distance, before Peter cant stands it anymore, turning on foot and racing back into the house, hearing the metal swing door clanging against the frame of the house. Hearing Harley call out to him, and as his vision starts to blur, he moves faster, pushing past Abbie with a mumbled apology before rushing up the stairs, taking two at a time, and making it to the guest bedroom slamming door behind him, causing the wood to splinter slightly.

As soon as the door is shut and locked, tears pool out of his eyes as he breaks down, pressing a hand to his mouth to stifle his sobs as he sits on the dusty, creaking bed, curling into himself as he hears heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, and another lighter pair coming after that, hears Abbie mutter something jokingly and Harley hiss out a response before the knocking and pleading start.

"Pete? Please open up, I'm sorry, let me explain-"

"Explain what?" He tries to snap, tries to yell and bite and sneer, but it comes out as a sob, weak and shaky. "How you apparently aren't gay? How I'm a 'family friend'?" Peter whimpers into his hands, rubbing at his eyes to try and get rid of the frustrating tears pouring out of them. It's stupid, he was so, so stupid.

"No, Pete-" Theres a light thunk, like Harley leaned his forehead against the door with a little too much force. Theres a sigh, low and sad, before Harleys voice comes back, still pleading, but softer, full of sorrow, "It's- It's not like that-"

"Isnt it!? You don't want to tell them a-about me, I-I get it." He does, he really truly does. He's just boring old, useless, nobody Peter Parker, while Harley is... well, Harley. So he gets it. He just doesn't understand why it hurts so damn much.

"Peter-" Now, he sounds choked, like Peter's pain is starting to get to him too, like the heartbreak is contagious. "Please, baby, let me in. Let me explain, please. I promise you, it's not what you think."

Theres a pause, and Peter hates himself, hates himself for considering it, hates himself for getting up, hates himself himself for agreeing with it, unlocking the door and stepping back just in time for Harley to open it swiftly, looking frazzled, hair askew and eyes wide, teary, his cheeks wet.

Their eyes reconnect, Peter's spilling brown to Harley's ocean blues, and whatever look is on Peter's face causes Harleys to crumble, and rush out, "I want to tell them! A-about us, I do, god, I want to tell them so bad, Pete, but-" He sighs long and low, eyes falling downcast, head bowed in shame. "They're homophobic, Pete. Everyone in this town is." Peter's heart thumps painfully in his chest, and so many different questions swirl in his head, but he swallows them down, letting Harley continue, voice tight, fearful, shaky. "I got lucky with my mom, my sister, I thought they were gonna hate me too when I first came out, I was-" his breath hicks. "I was so ready for them to kick me out and not look twice, but they didnt, and I'm lucky, Peter, I'm lucky. If the town found out, they'd- they'd tell ma to bring to therapy, to Church, to fix me like I'm some broken toy." He spits it out, bitter, angry, and the fire and ache in Peter's chest is slowly receding, slowly fading the more Harley talks and the more he understands. Harley sighs again, and his shoulders slump, eyes growing misty. "I wish I could tell them about us, Pete, I really really do. I wish I could scream it from the rooftops how much I adore you, but I just-"

"Can't." Peter finishes, wiping the drying tears off of his cheeks.

"Yeah." He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut, a few trickles falling. "I'm sorry, baby. Im so sorry. I didn't want to say any of that. I didnt mean any of it. I'm sorry."

Peter glances up at him, sees the way Harley looks, with his hunched frame, head low, eyes shut, tears streaming down his red face, lips trembling, hands shaking, and makes a wounded noise at the back of his throat, taking a few steps forward and pulling the boy into a tight hug.

How was he supposed to stay mad at him when he looked like that? When everything is out of his control, when he's only doing what he has to for his safety, for his life.

Harley stiffens in his embrace, before slumping forward into him, grasping at the back of his hoodie and burying his wet face into the crook of Peter's neck, shivering with a sob. "Its okay," Peter whispers, kissing the side of his head and rocking them gently back and forth, just like they had done earlier, before this misunderstanding, before this mess. "It's okay. I'm sorry for misunderstanding."

Harley shakes his head, sniffling. "No, no, you didnt- didnt know. I'm sorry I said those things."

Now its Peter's turn to shake his head, pressing another kiss to his head, this time behind his ear. "Its *okay*," Peter reiterates, reassures, and Harley sighs, his warm breath puffing against Peter's chest.

"No it isn't." Harley responds remorseful, his grip tightening. "I shouldnt have to do this. I shouldn't have to pretend, to lie. But I have to. I'm going to continue to have to."

"I know," Peter murmurs, rubbing a firm hand up and down his trembling boyfriend's back. "I know. It's okay, I understand now. Understand that you don't mean it." He pauses, shutting his eyes and hooking his chin on Harleys shoulder. "You're right though. You shouldn't have to do this. And I'm so so sorry that you have to live like this, especially around your friends, but-" He pulls away, opens his eyes, and places a hand on each of Harley's freckled tear stained cheeks, looking dead in his azure, shining, red rimmed but still so beautiful, so so beautiful eyes, and tells him firmly, promising, "One day, I'm going to get you out of here, away from this town and it's people, and you'll never have to deal with this again. Okay?"

Harley's face crinkles again, but this time its with joy, with love, a smile growing on his face as more tears trickle down his cheeks. "Okay." He murmurs, soft, shaky, but honest, but true.

Things may not be perfect, but one day, Peter thinks as he pulls his boyfriend, the love of his life, his soulmate in for another big hug, one day, they will be. As long as he gets to stay by Harley's side, everything will be okay. He's sure of it.

#parkner #harley keener/peter parker #harley keener #peter parker #tw: mentions of homophonia #tw: homophobia #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #ask #shade answers #mcu #marvel mcu #thanks anon! #❤❤

[shadedrose01]

Just Breathe

Ship: none, platonic (paternal) relationship between Harley Keener and Tony Stark

Summary: Harley has a panic attack, Tony helps

Tags: none (not posted on ao3)

Author note: this was a story that I originally wrote for febufluff day 7, "hugs" before realizing that it neither had hugs, nor was it very fluffy, like at all. I didnt want to just scrap it, so I figured I'd post it here. I am going to write another story for day 7 of febufluff, but it'll just come out a bit later 🤷‍♀️🤣

TRIGGER WARNING: This story is all about Harley having a panic attack due to his bullies finding out he is gay, and threatening to tell his school about it (aka being homophobic assholes). I describe the panic attack in detail, so if that's not your speed, DO NOT READ. Be safe, please, I love you all ❤

--

Click, click, click-

Harley clicks his pen unconsciously, his leg bunching up and down repeatedly, staring down at his paper with squinted eyes, hoping, begging his mind to focus on the homework.

Click, click, click-

Its math homework, Harley is good at math, he has always been good at math, so why cant he just focus? Why cant he just finish the problem?

Click, click, click-

The question muddles in front of him again, and Harley begs himself not to think about it, tries his hardest to focus, focus, focus! but his cries go unheard, the memory swarming into the forefront of his thoughts once more.

The note on his desk, telling him to be behind the school after class. The walk there, where Harley's curiosity had beat out his fear (such a stupid decision, he should have just left, should have just gone home-). The anticipation, leaning against the old, dirty brick, just waiting, waiting, watching and waiting. The group that had shown up, a bunch of bullies from his school, had surrounded him, pushed him up against that very same brick and held him there like pray, grins smug and eyes glistening, eyes knowing.

They knew his secret, they said, his secret that he was trying to hide for days, for months, for forever, trying to bury as deep into himself as he possibly could. Had said that they had caught him a few days, at the movies, with a kid from out of town, a boy from out of town. Had said that they saw them kiss, had said that they knew, knew who he really was, what he really was, had called him vulgar words, names and curses and swears, had beat him into the ground then and there, and walked away laughing.

They told him that they were telling the entire school. They were going to tell the school about his- his feelings, his sexuality, and- and everybody would hate him, hate his guts for something he couldn't control, can't control, had tried to control for so long, for so so long, and then- then the school was going to tell his mother, and his mother would hate him too, abandon him just like his father had, and Abbie would hate him, leave him too. He'd be all alone, all alone and nobody would care about him, nobody would miss him, nobody would want him and- and-

And he can't breathe.

Oh god, he can't breathe.

Harley tries to take a deep breath in, but all he can manage is a shallow gasp, his lungs feeling as if two vice grips are squeezing them on the highest setting, not allowing them to expand and contract, not allowing air to flow freely, not allowing him to breathe. He keeps trying, his faint gasps getting louder and louder, harder and harder to do, his heart beat drumming in his ears, fast and quick, and he's shaking, shaking like a leaf, and he cant stop, cant breath, his chest aches, his heart aches and oh god, he's dying, he's dying, he's going to die out here, in his garage, all by himself, all alone, his mother working and his sister with her friends, all alone, all alone-

He needs to call someone. He needs to- to-

Harley scrambles for his phone, placed beside the sheets of paper that are slowly blurring together as tears fill his eyes, and he tries multiple times to open it, failing, failing, failing every time, -nobody's going to know, he's dying, he can't- until finally, finally it opens, and he clicks on his contacts list, scrolls to the M's, and presses call, holding it up to his ear.

His other hand as made its way to his chest, having a death grip on his shirt as his chest continues to get tighter and tighter, the air feeling thicker and thicker, the room blurring and spinning and he wont make it, he wont make it until-

"Harley? Harley, I need you to breathe, kid." Its faint, Tony's staticky voice barely heard over the blood rushing in his ears, but it's there, and Harley clings to it like a lifeline (it is, it is a lifeline, his only chance at surviving-).

"I- I dont- I cant-" Harley wheezes, curling into himself, resting his head in between his knees and squeezing his eyes shut, hoping it'll help his rapidly increasing dizziness, hoping it'll stop the room from spinning so damn much, hoping it'll stop his world from collapsing on top of him like it is right now, god, please, have mercy-

Tony breaks through the white noise again, his tone softer than Harleys ever heard it, but strong, urgent. "You can, kid. I know it doesn't feel like it, but you can. You gotta try for me, okay?"

Harley just shakes his head, even though he knows Tony cant see it, his body trembling again as adrenaline rushes through his veins. "I'm dying, I'm- I- oh god I'm dying-"

"You aren't dying, Harls, I promise you, you aren't. You're having a panic attack." Harley doesnt respond to that, just sobbing in between his wheezing because he's dying, he knows he is, he can feel it, he's- "Kid, you're going to pass out if you don't breathe, so I need you to listen to me okay? I want you to breathe in for 4 seconds, hold it for 7 and then breath out for 8, you think you can do that for me?"

Harley doesnt, he doesnt think he can do it, but hes gotta- he's gotta try something, anything, he can't just go down without a fight, without giving it a shot. "O-O-O-Okay."

"Okay, follow me, okay? Inhale, one, two three, four-" He hears Tony take a deep breath, and tries to as well, shuttering with a sob as his lungs refuse to expand, refuse to listen, stopping his inhale after two, "Its okay, kiddo, you're doing good, now hold it for me, seven seconds, you got this." Harley tries again, holding his breath even as his body spasms, screaming at him to keep breathing, keep breathing, there isn't enough air, need more air, need- "and release for eight seconds," The air forces it's way out of Harleys lung in one loud push, and he immediately gasps again as soon as his lungs are empty. He expects Tony to be mad at him (he'll be mad at him, hate him just like his mom will, the school will-) , but the older man just keeps reassuring him gently, calmly, soothing Harleys worries. "There you go, bud, see? You got this, you can do this. Let's do that a few more times now, okay?"

They repeat the motion over and over again, and to Harleys surprise, after a while, the inhales start to get easier, his lungs start to open up again, relaxing and stretching again, and his heart starts to slow back to it's normal rate. He's still shaking, but its mostly aftershocks now, the last bits of the adrenaline rush draining out of his body. But now that he's calming down and he doesnt feel like he's dying, he can feel the shame and the horror start to creep it's way in, embarassment flushing his cheeks. "I-Im sorry." He whispers out shakily, running his free hand through his hand before holding it tightly, yanking at it slightly.

"Don't apologize for this, Harley, please." The man sounds tired, in more of a physically/mentally exhausted kind of way over an 'I'm annoyed and hate you' kind of way. Harley still feels a tinge of guilt though. "Are you feeling better now?"

He swallows, his throat dry and sore from heaving in and out breaths. "Yeah, yeah I think so. Thanks."

Theres a pause, a moment of awkward, long and uncomfortable silence that Harley isnt sure how to break, isn't sure he really wants know, until the question he was anxiously dreading breaks it anyways. "Kid..." Tony sighs quietly, "I know we dont normally... do this, the whole having emotional talks about our problems thing, but-" he pauses again, thinking his words through. "...do you want to talk about it?"

Harley grits his teeth, before deflecting. "Talk about what?"

"Harley." The man's tone turns stern, but still soft, still gentle, like Harley's a fragile ceramic plate placed at the end of a shelve, one from blow of wind away from falling and shattering. Then, randomly, he speaks up again, his voice sounding more defeated, resigned, "Look, bud, I cant force you to say anything, but I know from experience that talking about it can help sometimes."

Harley sighs, knowing he isn't going to get out of this, no matter how much he wants to (or, how much he thinks he wants to, even if theres some small part in the back of his brain calling out to him, longing for him to tell Tony everything, no matter the inevitable consequences-). He just shrugs, scuff his foot against the cement ground of his garage, mumbling out. "I don't know what to say, where to start..."

"That's okay. Just say something. Starting is always the hardest part."

Harley snorts, trying to lighten the mood one last time. "Since when did you become a therapist?"

"Since I started going to one." Tony deadpans, a tiny light of amusement ringing in his tone before it disappears again, back to serious. "You can tell me anything, Harley. No judgement, okay, maybe a little bit of judgement depending, but no everlasting grudges, I promise."

Harley chuckles lightly, his back of his eyes burning suddenly, randomly, a flash of warmth flowing through him. Because even with all of his self deprecating thoughts, even with all his anxiety, the one thing Harley knows about Tony Stark is that he always keeps his promises, no matter what it costs to do so.

And so, Harley tells him. Tells him his truth, shakily, nervously, painstakingly slow and fearful, only to be told instantly that it's okay, that he is okay, that it doesn't change anything. Tells him about the boys at his school, about their attack, about their plans with a few split tears and a sob or two. Tells him about how afraid he really is, about how he doesnt know how anyone will react, if his friends will leave him or not, if his family will still love him after it all. And Tony reassures him the whole time, backs him up through it all, telling him it'll all be okay, that even if the school finds out and it becomes a big deal, that it'll blow over in a few weeks, and if it doesnt, that high school is just the first part and a small portion of a longer, bigger life. Telling him that if his friends leave, that they arent truly his friends, and that he knows that his mom, his sister will love him no matter what. "Theres only a few things I know about Macy Keener, but I do know for a fact that she loves her son to death, and couldnt even imagine her life without him in it." (That caused a few more tears to be shed).

And after it's all said and done, the call ended and "The Mechanic" is shining back at him in big white letters, Harley starts back to work on his math assignment with a grin on his face, feeling lighter, better than he has in a long time.

#febufluff fail #oopsies #angst #panic attack #anxiety #homophobia #harley keener #tony stark #irondad #fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu