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Chapter Text

No attacks or enemies had been scarier and promised a more threatening outcome than the piece of paper in front of Peter. The pink slip of harmless paper scared and infuriated him in a way even Flash would be jealous of. On it were the words in bold black ink, ‘SCHOOL TRIP,” but underneath was the part frightening Peter the most.
‘STARK INDUSTRIES’

Or: Peter goes on a school trip to SI but is revealed in every aspect of his chaotic life; featuring Gen Z Peter; FW: timeline = non-existent and based off headcannons; has Peter, MJ and Tony POVs; Michelle has telepathic abilities, like Professor X-ish (speak in their mind) coz why not; fourth wall breakage (simile to other marvel movies); uses British terms.

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Peter

No school trips had ever gone well for Peter Parker. His infamous “Parker Luck” had a hand it that, making sure he could never enjoy his half-hearted attempt at educational trips. But this could be his chance to fuck off the universe in return of all the times they’ve fucked him up.

As Mr Harrington announced to the class that they were going in a school trip tomorrow, Peter did the only thing he could. Smash his head against the desk. In fact, it was a smash that his Uncle Bruce - as the Hulk – would have been proud of. Whilst Peter was regretting his life decisions and wallowing in self-pity, his ‘Peter Tingle’ - he had to get Tony to stop calling it that - alerted him of watchful eyes. And sure enough, as Peter turned around, Flash’s gaze was shooting daggers at his head. His (Flash’s) smirk spoke words that were more educated than anything that would normally come out of his mouth. It conveyed something of a similarity to teasing and testing of Peter’s ‘lies’. However, Peter couldn’t be sure as he didn’t speak idiot.

“Hey, dude, you, ok?” Ned’s concerned voice came. Peter grunted in response - a very educated and civilised thing to do. He couldn’t really be blamed. This was a field trip to his own house. It was going to be awkward enough as ‘Tony Stark’s Personal Intern,’ minus the family status Peter shared with the Avengers. There was no country, planet, galaxy, or universe in which his family wouldn’t take advantage of Peter’s pity-worthy situation, so he was in for a shit show. But Ned’s reassuring pat on the back and MJ’s middle finger relieved him of a small percentage of his suffering. They were in a similar predicament of secret nickname-basis with literal Avengers. If Peter was any normal teenager, he would’ve freaked out and probably passed out. Right there. On the floor. In front of everyone. Only reason preventing that event: Peter was nowhere near normal. And he had to grip on to any last shreds of dignity he has - with a vice grip. God knows he wouldn’t have it in 20 hours.

As Mr Harrington announced the end of the period, he started dismissing row by row. Although Peter had other plans when he bolted out of the classroom door at a speed his Uncle Steve would be proud of. God, he was making all his family proud today. Peter was so pleased with himself. Of course, his family would never find out what happened today during AP chemistry. This school trip was for Peter to skip and his half-adoptive family to never, ever, know about. In fact, if the universe would dare to be such a bitch and let them find out, he’d probably beat it up. God knows he was caffeinated and sleep-deprived enough to do so.

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Peter

After school, Peter was picked up in Happy’s car, two blocks down from Midtown High School of Technology and Science. Of course, Peter climbing into a black car with tinted windows wasn’t suspicious at all- not. He’d already had comments asking if he was kidnapped and ‘blink three times if you need help.’ Honestly though, that one was getting old - he received it at least twice a week. By the 28th time, all who cared for Peter’s wellbeing had double checked he was ok. Therefore, Peter decided to play along - except he would only blink twice or give ambiguous answers that actually made someone start a conspiracy insta page putting together all his answers to find a solid answer. People were insane these days. But then again, Peter couldn’t really say much, considering he was also wondering how to kill the universe and make it feel the pain Peter had for fucking up his life. By the time Peter had finished his internal rant, he had arrived home at the tower. Peter knew all his life challenges were inside that building, but against his better judgement, his Spider Senses told him to get his arse inside or he would face the wrath of angry Avengers. And Peter would rather separate a gazelle from a hungry lion. So, he decided to step into Hell.

Inside, his mum, Aunt Nat, Uncle Steve, dad, and Uncle Bruce were all huddled around the large, circular coffee table. They had all taken him in – some more literally than others – when May died 18 months ago, helping him through it. Whilst his feet padded along the hard, wooden floor, Peter let curiosity get the better of him. His over-thinking brain instantly thought everyone knew about his trip. Then came the worries of the shame at school when he got revealed to his class by his so-called ‘loving family,’ and the weird looks and requests he would receive about autographs, or inside facts, or other information Peter would refuse to relinquish. It helped that he had experience in refusing to speak, unfortunately through many a kidnapping. Moving on from the start of Peter’s villain origin story, his dad greeted him, clearing his anxious mind fog.
“Hey Pete, how was school? Anything important you were told today?” Iron Man’s booming yet comforting, soft voice queried.
Peter replied with a hasty, probably -no definitely- too quick to not count as suspicious, shake of his head and slight smile. He failed to look normal, especially in a room filled with the best super spies the world knows of. At least, that Peter knows of, and having Ned talk his ear off every time Peter mentioned going home or an avenger- even indirectly – made him know quite a lot of super spies. Plus, if Peter wasn’t being inconspicuous, Tony definitely wasn’t. His suggesting phrasing of asking what happened today very much hinted that everyone knew. Welp, that threw a twist in Peter’s plans. It wasn’t even a wrench! Peter would know how to fix that, due to his mechanical brain. This was something new though. Yes, he had faced situations which caused him to almost be revealed, such as Ned almost saying who his biological grandparents were on Grandparents’ Day, but this was an inside betrayal. His own family! Peter could taste the unspoken treachery on his tongue, like the mouldy food the school canteen served him.

The realization hit him in the face, like that train did 2 months ago. Peter hadn’t actually asked if his family knew anything. His mum most likely did, as she would’ve accepted the trip request. But then again, she was the most trustworthy one there whose list did not include ‘Embarrass my 16-year-old son’ as the top priority. The others, however, did. Once again, Peter trudged over to the table, his mind somewhere else. He didn’t even notice his dad’s firm grip on his shoulder until he was being shaken by his Uncle Bruce.
“You sure you’re okay there, bambino?” Tony voiced his concern, due to Peter’s pale face. He was known to be unable to thermoregulate, but it wasn’t cold enough. Plus, due to his enhanced metabolism, Peter couldn’t physically get sick. He didn’t have any bruises or other fight-marks, but he would’ve healed on the way over.
“Yeah. I’m fine, Dad.” Peter obviously tried to voice confidence but failed – miserably. Ready to admit defeat in making Peter tell him what was clearly wrong, Tony allowed him some downtime.
“If you’ve got any homework, finish that. But otherwise head on down to your lab to destress, bud.”

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Peter

17 and a half hours later, Tony realised how bad of an idea that was. Peter refused to see the light of day, as he wasn’t ‘mentally or emotionally stable enough to do so’. Knowing that was finality and if Peter didn’t want to go to school, he wouldn’t, Tony left it at that. Only problem, Peter hadn’t even left the lab. In the lab, Peter had scruffy hair, an old one of Tony’s MIT hoodies, Iron Man pyjama bottoms and dead-looking bags under his usually full-of-life hazelnut eyes, plus navy Crocs with mechanical Jibbitz, like gears, wrenches and pieces of scrap metal. He had a whiteboard the size of the wall, covered in random math and chemistry and physics equations. All way above his predicted high school level. They were all trying to produce improved versions of Tony’s multi-web fluid. Peter had spent the whole night trying to come up with a version that could be stored in one vial in his web-shooters. The motivation to this project was that MJ was telling him off for leaving random, empty glass vials around the city. And no one in their right mind would mess with an angry MJ when fired up about one of her passions. In this case, the passion was the environment, and the person not in their right mind was Peter. This was shown through the fact that he ignored her comments, suggestions, and threats. It ended with Peter receiving a black arm and eye for the next few hours. And MJ, being the supportive girlfriend she was, told him to ‘suck it up’ and ‘you’ve dealt with worse, Spiderman.’ So here he was, 5 weeks later, sleep-deprived and way too unhealthy caffeinated, fixing his web fluid in his lab. Due to the blasting AC/DC, Peter forgot to notice the – his - class tour group standing outside his window.

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MJ

MJ felt a sense of panic at 8:55am when none of her 24 missed calls and 85 unread messages. Peter never missed more than two calls in a row, even during patrol or when suffering an injury – that gave MJ a scare when he answered with 4 broken ribs and a punctured lung. So, to miss 24 in a row, that basically meant Peter was dead. Although she would never explicitly voice her concern, but she was staring to fear the worst. MJ couldn’t worry too much, though, as she was being piled into the coach, unwillingly forced to spend half an hour with a bunch of sweaty hormonal15-year-olds – definitely unwilling. Debating it, MJ would’ve actually wanted to go on this stupid school trip had her never late and always on time boyfriend been there. Another call and 13 texts later, MJ decided to track Peter using the app connecting to his watch – for MJ to always see where he was, spidey suit or Peter. This always helped to calm both’s nerves as the other was ok. For some reason, anti-social Peter was already at the Stark/Avengers tower. Why was he at home? Peter was the only one who liked the coach rides to ‘get into the mood’ and ‘it’s for the atmosphere’ dragged Michelle with him. Despite a tough exterior, MJ found her boyfriend adorable and the only one who had ever cracked her hard skin before. She secretly loved his cute pout and fluffy curls constantly falling into his eyeline, making him trip over his own feet. Although he clearly could catch himself, if need be, to keep identities secret, Peter physically had to fall over, making it ten times funnier than it already was.
Zooming in on the precise map though, it showed Peter in his lab, since 4:47 yesterday. Peter staying in the lab for more than 12 hours was common, but when did Stark let him stay in that long on a weekday? Realising Peter’s inevitable doom, MJ smirked to herself, sadistically knowing that after this field trip, Peter Parker would have no self-dignity whatsoever. So, settling into the extremely uncomfortable bus seat, MJ opened her book and waited for her fun day, filled with her boyfriend’s utter humiliation.

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MJ

Actually standing outside Peter’s lab was so much funnier than MJ expected it to be. With AC/DC playing on 200% volume, Peter’s off-key singing and giant webs across the room, MJ couldn’t help but smile, bringing a hand up to her mouth in an attempt to hide it. The sparse and late giggles from the rest of the tour group came after hers. Apparently, Peter singing along to Back in Black was the funniest thing ever. Nevertheless, through the tracking/messaging app she used earlier that morning, Michelle alerted Peter of her presence. The music suddenly halted to a stop and Peter slowly turned around. The messy, un-brushed curls stuck upright, and the MIT hoodie hung off Peter’s thin frame. It was obviously Stark’s, considering it had ‘Leavers 87’ on the back. Peter was also wearing Iron Man pyjama bottoms and navy Crocs with gear and mechanical charms. His face was stuck in a state of shock and panic. God, MJ really wanted her sketchbook – Peter was the best person-in-crisis this week.
Just to make matters worse, the overlapping questions started, Peter collapsed onto the floor from the sensory overload, just as the Tony Stark walked in to check on them.

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Peter

If Peter’s eyes could be any wider, he could’ve been mistaken for an owl. He should’ve remembered there was a school trip today – it was his class on it! His lab shouldn’t have been on the trip list, but his dad probably set him up. He knew his dad would betray him on the trip, his spider senses were never wrong; except the time he hadn’t slept for 89 hours, and all his senses dropped, but that’s beside the point. Peter’s therapist keeps saying he must talk in bullet points and keep rambling to a low. He obviously doesn’t take that advice very often, but that might be due to his undiagnosed ADHD. Turning round to face his spectators, Peter opened his mouth, then closed. Looking at his watch, still with the alert of MJ’s location – a.k.a. outside his lab – he opened his mouth to say something again. Making him look like an idiot, only a small whimper escaped, humiliating his useless vocal cords. Peter’s eyes subconsciously searched for his girlfriend, MJ, and Ned, his best friend, to help him out of this situation. They quickly found each other’s eyes and stared, making it even more uncomfortable. The evil, sadistic smirk on Michelle’s face told him she knew he was suffering, but refused to help, and Ned was just plain confused. Not as much as Peter’s other classmates, though. Soon, the avalanche of voices and queries made Peter cover his ears. Unfortunately, this just made the voices louder as they tried to shout in order for him to be able to hear them. Slowly, Peter lowered himself to the floor, curling up into a ball. He couldn’t hear anything but at the same time could hear everything. People needed to shut up or Peter would strap a bomb to their back and yeet them off the Statue of Liberty. He closed his eyes and whimpered quietly. All he could feel was the linoleum floor, and, wait – a hand? Whose hand was that? It didn’t matter as everything for Peter – as cliché as it sounded - went black.

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Tony

Life was full of inconveniences, case and point being when you go to embarrass your adoptive son in front of his Aca Dec tour group, but he unexpectedly passes out on the floor. If anyone had any tips on the situation, Tony needed the advice when Peter just collapsed on the lab floor, milliseconds after Tony walked in. If he wasn’t so concerned for Peter’s wellbeing, Tony would’ve been annoyed at missing extra time from his latest MARK LXIV (64). But this was Peter, and Tony could never get mad about spending extra time with him. Despite that, there was still the blaring fact that Peter had collapsed on the floor. In his lab. In front of his class. He only came in to try show off the boy and put a stop to the suspected bullying by a - Bash? Flash? Tony didn’t do well with names. Except when it was his son’s bully. He knew his full name – Eugene Thompson. Didn’t bother paying any attention to what his name preferences were – he didn’t have any respect for Peter, so why should Tony give him any? He didn’t realise the shocked faces on all the students (except Jones, that woman was a stone statue, like Pepper, bot more emotionless) until he looked for Eugene in the crowd. Hitting him like a bus, Tony remembered Peter was still out cold on the floor. He rushed over to check if he had any major injuries from a potential patrol. Unfortunately, checking Peter over had become a routine that Tony knew like the blueprints for the Iron Man suit. Having no fatal or bleeding injuries – this time¬ – Tony moved onto trying to look at trusted-ish kids in the tour group to fill him in on what happened. Jones filled him in with a short and simple answer.
“Loud Questions. Sensory Overload. Boom.”
It was concise and very Jones-like. Guess she expected it then. At least Tony knew how to fix this. Just like treating a migraine: dark, silent recovery room and sleep.
“Welp, at least the kid got his sleep in - been hours since he has.” Tony half-heartedly commented, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work. Peter’s classmates still looked as if Loki had just walked in the room, threatening them with his weird glowing-blue-staff-that-needed-to-work-on-the-peformance-delivery. To an extent, this was Tony Stark caring for a 16-year-old boy – the man that didn’t like people as a whole but cared for this teen like his own. Unbeknownst to them, he was. Ignoring the pressing eyes, Tony lifted Peter bridal-style out of the lab and into his room filled with Star Wars posters and science fair advertisements. Tony laid Peter on his bed, turning off the lights and making FRIDAY turn on the ‘Spider’s Senses’ protocol, making the room soundproof. Closing the door, Tony walked back downstairs to Peter’s lab, and indirectly the shocked tour group of teens, to try and clear everything up through ambiguous yet soft threats. He wasn’t very good with people, let alone kids, so this was going to be a challenge.

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MJ

Seeing Tony Stark stutter and stumble over his words was never something Michelle Jones thought she would see in her lifetime. This egoistical, confident and smooth-talking man would never, ever, be stuck for words over a bunch of intelligent but lacking all common-sense high schoolers. That seemed to be a pattern: the higher the GPA or IQ, the lower the logic and common-sense. Not to seem cocky, but Michelle was an anomaly, being book-smart and street-smart. Guess it’s able to be both when you date an underage vigilante. But not if you’re actually the underage vigilante, as MJ’s lovely boyfriend is a self-sacrificial piece of shit, proven by how many times Peter has jumped into danger for Michelle’s and other’s lives. Anyway, Stark came back into the room, trying to explain Peter’s random appearance and sudden passing out. It was rather amusing to see Stark stutter so much, but MJ’s morals did eventually kick in, telling her to save the old man from his suffering. Unaware of how to insert herself into the conversation, she waited for Stark’s desperate cues, ultimately finding it in his aching side-eyes. Finally stepping in, MJ walked up next to Stark, with Ned following in tow like a lost puppy. Standing with her hip jutted out and arms crossed – like the girl boos she is – MJ stood ready to take on a pack of hungry lions, which her class might have been mistaken for considering the ravenous expressions upon their faces. Looking up to Stark to see how much she was allowed to disclose, MJ telepathically asked Stark if she could spill his adoption secret. With a nod of his head, MJ turned back to her class.
“Only Peter’s middle name is Parker; his last name’s Stark.” Another short and concise statement, explaining all through ambiguous riddles that you would only understand if you knew her really well. Unfortunately, no one currently there did.
“What Jones means to say, is that Pete’s my son; that’s why he’s here.” Stark helped dumb down. The brief moments of silence were all that the trio were awarded, before the – quite literally – stampede.

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Tony

Jones probably would’ve been helpful if she wasn’t so brutally honest. At least she said it how it was, despite it being a little coded. Clearing up Stark would’ve thought made things easier to digest – and calmer too – but it sure didn’t work. If anything, the crowd became more talkative than Peter after a fun day at school, and that was saying something. Moving on from the weird analogy, Tony tried to shout over the curious teens, but coming up as successful as Deadpool trying to unalive himself in the second movie (a.k.a, not). Helpfully, FRIDAY blared a random alarm, making everyone shut the fuck up – very necessary, in Jones’ mind. Deciding to approach this like a press conference.
“Everyone who has questions, please raise your hand and I will either not respond or respond to the best of my ability.” Tony summarised.
Everyone raised their hands.
Great. Tony picked the first few hands up, questions from a clean-girl blond, asking whether Peter was adopted or biological, and a Twilight-looking dude, asking when Peter was going to tell everyone. Answers to these weren’t that hard to answer. The hardest was when that Eugene kid raised his unworthy hand.
“How did Pen-Parker end up adopted by you? Is he, like, your PR stunt? Why that weird dweeb?”
“You should know, there’s a tree out there, providing oxygen for you to breathe. You should find it and apologise, like you should with my amazing, genius son, who holds more potential in his little finger than you do in your entire body.” Tony hissed.
The entire room was silent, and Eugene was shaking in pure terror – as he should be¬. Nobody had seen Tony Stark this scary and vexed ever. Even fighting personal villains were kept to jokes and light-hearted humour and roasts. This was the Tony Stark that nobody saw: the provoked protective side. Tony’s insult stung deep, like the giant gash in Eugene’s ego now. With that comment, Tony left the room, called Pepper in to deal with the infuriating children and retreated back to Peter’s room.

Chapter Text

Peter
After Peter had awoken – like the princess he was – and had had a shower – cause God he stunk – and of course put clothes on – because this is a teen and up story – he made his way downstairs, back to his lab. Finding it surprisingly empty, Peter went to the Avengers common-room-floor-space-thing™ to check up on his тетя Нят (Aunt Nat) for their practise session later. Actually, looking at the time, later was more like now. Peter was luckily already in his sports gear, so he just rushed down to the training room. Much to his sarcastic surprise, the majority of his family was there: Uncle Bucky, Uncle Steve, Aunt Nat, Uncle Clint and Pietro. He didn’t call Pietro his uncle, seeing him more as a close cousin, or even a brother if he was pushing it. Peter often did that, push the boundaries of science and nature, making his entire family petrified of his daily choices in fear of his untimely end.
# Walking in to greet everyone, Peter realised his mistake. Once again, the bane of his existence was in front of his family, threatening what little remained of Peter’s sanity. The awkward yet excited wave he received from Ned brightened peter’s hopes – the same ones that were currently darker than MJ’s murder mystery books. Moving on, Peter’s class all stared back at him, evident confusion and left-over shock on their faces. The shock was probably from the surprise that Peter was the Tony Stark’s son – which they weren’t supposed to know until Peter was 18, but damned Parker Luck™ made sure nothing ever went to plan with Peter.
Ignoring that fact, the point of Peter’s inner-monologue-word-vomit was that his adoptive family were staring knowingly at him; it was as if they knew his life was about to collapse and his already limited social life would want to shrink exponentially. Sauntering over to Pietro like he owned the place (a somewhat half-truth), Peter whisper-accused his family of screwing up everything again.
“What did you do?” Peter whisper-shouted at Pietro, who only shrugged with a smirk upon his features.
Peter’s spidey-sense subtly rung warning bells at the back of his neck, cautioning him of future chaos to come. Peter’s glare at Pietro’s vague/non-existent answer made his Тетя Нят smirk: she was watching the interaction from her peripheral.
Clapping her hands, Nat gathered all the AcaDec students (plus Peter) into a circle outside of the mat. After explaining what they were going to be doing for the next 90 minutes, Steve and Bucky walked into the middle of the crash mats. Natasha explained that they would be demonstrating their task, and to copy some of their moves to use in their own duels.
Watching the two super-soldiers fight was like watching two lions stalk each other, if one had a metal arm. Peter’s classmates’ faces displayed a plethora of emotions: shock, apprehension, fear and pure respect. The two 100+ year old men displayed a work of art more interesting than a fireworks display. Eventually, Steve tapped out when Bucky had body-slammed him to the ground, pinning him down to the mats.
Stepping out of the makeshift ring, the men’s presence was replaced by Nat’s, whilst she started to pair up the AcaDec team: MJ vs Liz, Betty vs Cindy, Flash vs Abe. Noticing an odd number (no Mr Harrington was not going against a 15-year-old) Natasha called in Peter to stand in. Peter and Mr Harrington blanched in protest, refusing as Peter wasn’t officially part of the tour group. However, Nat’s unwavering gaze shut both boys up. So, Ned was paired with Peter instead. Before the group could actually start, Betty and Cindy were pulled to the side, being the only two in skirts that were inappropriate to fight in. Cindy’s tennis skirt got let off, but Betty was asked to go to the changing rooms and find a pair of cycling shorts to change into. Whilst Betty was away, Nat placed every pair on a separate part of the mat to duel on. With Betty finally coming back, Clint rung the bell, signalling them to start.
Everyone looked like they were generally giving the task a good shot. MJ and Liz were working on offence, Cindy and Betty were working on defence, Flash had run at Abe six times in the past 5 minutes and Abe had successfully dodged the catastrophic wrecking ball called Flash Thompson. In the corner, Peter had been teaching Ned some defence moves to block a mugger’s most common attack styles.
After 20 minutes, Nat recalled all the teams back into the makeshift ring to explain the next task and quiz them on what they’d done with their time. She explained that one of the supervisors would pick someone to fight, and the contender could pick who they want to fight, or the supervisors could pick both contenders. As an example, Clint chose Abe to fight someone, who chose Ned. Whilst both in the ring favoured defence over offence, Abe made the first big move, running at Ned, who artfully dodged and jabbed his neck. With the final blow, Abe fell to the floor, unbalanced and barely conscious, due to a move Peter had shown Ned when the latter had almost got mugged, so made sure he had perfected it. Next was Pietro to choose, picking Flash as the first contender.
“You, weird fake-name guy, up.” Pietro appropriately named. “Choose someone.” He ordered. When Flash didn’t respond, Pietro warned, “In the next 15 seconds or I’m choosing.”
# Obviously, Flash pointed to Peter with a smug grin on his face. Wow, Parker Luck™ strikes again, causing slightly more than minor inconveniences in his life. Peter wondered if he should try to keep up his unfit, failing-PE façade and just reveal his alter, alter ego, Spiderman. Almost as if reading his mind, Natasha approached him, like a predator stalking its prey. Almost a bit like how Peter was feeling currently.
“не сдерживайся, маленький паучок (Don’t hold back, little spider).” She mumbled at him.
“Но у меня есть тайная личность не просто так, Тетя Нят (But I have a secret identity for a reason, Aunt Nat).” Peter murmured back at her.
“Ты должен это сделать, малыш (You need to do this, kid).” Natasha finalised with a condescending tone, ending the conversation there and then.
Quite obviously, the rest of peter’s AcaDec team were in shock of how Peter could easily communicate in Russian, having a fluent – what looked like – argument with the Black Widow(!) but ultimately loosing. To give Peter some credit, debates against Natasha usually consisted of Nat having a point, and everyone else agreeing with said point. If they didn’t, she would just provide the point in multiple languages, throwing in cusses until they wielded.
# Despite that, Peter still put on a show of defiance by literally dragging his feet across the floor slowly until he got to the make-shift ring of crash mats. Finally placing his feet on the very end of the mats – furthest away from Flash as possible whilst not suffering Natasha’s wrath – Peter scowled up at the older spider, understanding what she wanted to do here.
As Natasha explained the rules again, Peter heard Flash’s murmured meaningless insult, sarcastically wishing Peter, ‘good luck, you’re gonna obviously need it.’. It was truly ironic, in the fact that even if Peter was Spiderman, he would need all the luck in the world to fight Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow. However, he did get encouragement and support through Ned’s concerned gaze and MJ’s smug smirk. There was also Pietro, grinning his I’m-alright-Jack mischievous simper like the idiot he was. Peter would count that as support, except, it wasn’t, not really. That was the grin that came before evil pranks, or revealing that Clint stole Nat’ chocolate. It was one where chaos and misfortune and destruction followed quickly behind.
As Peter approached the ring with the caution of a homicide investigator, where Natasha was stalking around the ring, expectant expression gracing her features. To the normal eye, she looked ready to pounce upon unsuspecting victims (read: Peter) and make them wish they had a bear with them instead. To Peter, it looked similar, but due to the spy skills sha had taught him, he was able to detect the hint of friendly fire in her set expression, expressing Peter’s ever-nearing end. This was probably revenge for taking many, many years off of her already shrinking life expectancy. Well, it was reasonably deserved, Peter thought, he was the bane of many people’s existence. But he worked hard to earn that title and was well proud of it, not going to remove it any time soon.
Done with internal procrastination, Peter involuntarily paced onto the mats, towards his inevitable doom. He kind of wished his mum was here, because regardless of all the motherly instincts Natasha displayed upon Peter, she was still just his cool aunt, willing to humiliate him and hand over any lawsuits she created to his mum – Pepper. The smirk on her face promised that there would be indeed a lawsuit to deal with later.
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MJ:
Watching anyone’s downfall always sent pure exhilaration through her veins, but watching Peter’s almost ensured negative consequences. It was called his infamous ‘Parker Luck™’ and always brought bad repercussions to any of Peter’s life choices. This felt like it was gonna be a big one. It was funny, really, how often Peter’s life went to shit, blowing up in his face like his webs if he forgot to add the salicylic acid (one of Michelle’s favourite memories) and always ended unfavourably.
Watching Peter unwillingly get into a fighting stance on the mats, Flash’s smug grimace pledging Peter’s downfall and several bruises to and Natasha’s promising smirk of mischief, MJ realised her mistake of implanting the idea in Nat’s head of helping to stop Peter’s history of being bullied – especially by Flash. Her thought process consisted of if Peter proved a threat to Flash, he would stop bullying him, however the main side effect – that was only a possibility – was that Peter’s identity would get revealed, meaning all his efforts to not let this happen would go down the drain quicker than a spider in Australia. Ironically, for a school of geniuses, the AcaDec class was surprisingly oblivious to clues such as Peter beating the shit out of his classmates and literal Avengers with his ‘fatal asthma’ and ‘PE failing grade’ as he twists and kicks Flash in the stomach, successfully dodging a sloppy (at best) punch aimed at Peter’s face but eventually dropped enough to (not) hit his sternum instead.
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Peter:
Flash’s punch would’ve bruised a rib at best if Peter’s spidey sense hadn’t kicked in at the last minute, warning him with a ‘Danger, twist right and duck!’, which was actually extremely useful, considering he still had sore ribs from yesterday morning’s patrol when the villain of the week had hit a pretty good blow and broken 3 ribs whilst bruising 6 others. It had almost punctured his right lung, narrowly missing it by millimetres.
Moving on, Flash was obviously taken back by Peter’s sudden show of strength, but refused to show it, setting his face back into a smug disgrace of what would be handsome features if he wasn’t such a bitch to everyone. However, if one looked close enough, like Peter did normally, they would be able to see the slight twinge of fear matched equally with the determination to beat Peter in Flash’s eyes.
“That the only trick your lanky body can manage without snapping in half, Parker?” he acidly whispered, trying to make Peter back down by himself, accidentally displaying the fear Flash was trying so desperately to hide from their classmates.
The one-sided testosterone battle didn’t go over Peter’s head. No, instead he used it to his advantage, preying on the weak spot like a spider preying on a fly with injured wings. Peter shot back a manipulative smile, throwing Flash off of his game enough to sneak in a vengeful uppercut and evil jab to the throat. He then jumped over the top of Flash, pushing on his shoulders, evidently pushing Flash onto the mats on the floor, and landing on his back in his classic Spiderman pose. Peter crouched there for 5 seconds until Flash obstinately tapped out, admitting his defeat against the lanky, weak boy failing PE. Humiliating, but deserved.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
Peter:
All was going well with Peter’s identity still under wraps but enough fear in his classmates, so no one ever fucked with Peter Parker-Stark ever again. Key word being was, as whilst Abe went against Pietro – unfortunately loosing due to the super speed but lasting more than 20 seconds, which was more than most – Ned going against Clint – and winning as Clint didn’t have his arrows and didn’t expect the jab to the stomach and then eye and throat – and lastly MJ going against Nat – lasting about a minute as they had a non-verbal training session, making use of MJ’s telepathic communication abilities.
Again, everything was going well, until Natasha called on him to pick someone to fight.
“Питер! Твоя очередь, давай (Peter! Your turn, come on.)” she shouted out to him, a commanding underlaying tone presenting consequences if he refused. Like doing his dad’s washing – eugh.
“Но тётя Нят! Я уже на грани того, чтобы они узнали, что я Человек-Паук! (But Aunt Nyat! I'm on the verge of them finding out that I'm Spider-Man!)” Peter protested, only to be met with another silencing glare.
“Я говорю, что ребенок-паук идет против меня и Стива, что ты думаешь, Нят? (I say the spider baby goes against me and Steve, what do you think, Nat?)” Bucky perked up from where he sat on one of the benches lining the sides of the room, with Steve’s head in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck.
Steve, with his barely adequate Russian skills, seemingly perked up at this, being able to translate it, but slow enough to create an impatient look on Nat’s face. Still, Bucky had to whisper it in English in his ear for him to finally understand. It was easy to see when the realization hit, due to Steve’s sudden blanch, which, for Peter, was the funniest thing ever, as demonstrated by his loud snort from the other side of the room. Drawing attention to himself involuntarily, Peter realised his mistake as he felt Bucky, Nat and Steve’s eyes on him, setting off his spider sense. It was so strong that Peter visibly flinched, tension appearing in his shoulders and squinting his eyes shut as mischievous grins appeared on the trio’s faces. The victim (read: Peter) was not wearing a smirk, but an expression of pure terror and apprehension of what was to come. Peter grabbed his water bottle – that was next to him on the bench he was sitting on – in order to try and stall the inexorable. His metabolism, however, had other ideas as he gulped it down like a man left in the desert for weeks.
Steve’s innocent-but-disguised beam did nothing to fool Peter as he called the spider kid over.
“Паук, детка! (Spider baby!)” the super soldier hollered out to him.
Peter rolled his eyes in a grimace, knowing what they were trying to do – reveal everything and ruin all his efforts in keeping his secret vigilante identity under wraps for the last 3 years. It was what he had expected to happen all along since he first learnt about the school trip two days ago. He knew all would go to shit the second his family had the chance to make it.
Peter trudged onto the mats again, ready to face his unpreventable annihilation and face down the two super soldiers. He had gone against them both, by themselves many times but only together once previously. He had beaten Steve, but was unable to get Bucky as well, being flipped and pinned to the floor a second before Bucky would’ve automatically have been out. It was depressing, especially as Tony and Clint had to hand over 50 quid each to Nat and Pietro, having lost the bet (it would’ve been £100 each, but Peter had taken down Steve, so they halved it, 50 for taking down each soldier). This was his second chance to defeat both of them in a spar, but did he actually want to take it? Especially in front of his classmates? He could save it for another time, another training session, but did he want to face the wrath of denying two angry Russian soldiers? Absolutely not. So, Peter sucked it up and walked towards his unfortunate fate, dependant on an ultimatum that could – would - change his life.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
Bucky:
# Bucky and his partner, Steve, stood on the mats that somewhat resembled a boxing ring layout with smug grins contorting their otherwise handsome features, aimed directly at their nephew, Peter. The former saw the boy trudging towards the mats, unwillingness and hesitance dripping form every pore in his body.
“Поторопись, мальчик-паук! (Hurry up, Spider-boy!)” Nat chastised at the poor kid.
Peter begrudgingly quickened his pace, so as not to have Nat physically pick him up and drag him over here herself. Bucky chuckled internally at the image that formed in his head. It wasn’t like Bucky had to imagine much: it wasn’t a special occurrence. In fact, Nat did have to do that on many multiple mornings when Peter refused to accept school or life. And honestly, Bucky could relate. He could also relate now, being commanded to do something by the scary Russian lady, telling them to do something he had no intention of doing so. One moment of eye contact with that glare quickly changes a person’s mind, so science has proven.
Bucky nodded to Steve, a silent gesture to start setting up on the mats and wait for Peter to finally finish making his way over. Once he did, Bucky up close could see the hesitance woven into the worry lines of his adopted-nephew’s face. He knew what this would probably end in: Spiderman’s greatest secret out of the bag for the world to see. He knew it, Steve knew it, hell even Sir Whiskers IV could tell. The sardonic soldier part of his brain Bucky could never be rid of gave a smug smirk. It wasn’t always sadistic – sometimes he reminded him to get bagels for Steve cause likes bagels. Other times it told him how to traumatise Peter with slightly embellished war stories or the best pranks to pull on Bird Brain I (Clint) and Bird Brain II (Sam), often shortened to BBI and BBII. However this time, it was analysing Peter’s common attacks (more like defences) and the counter-offences to his moves.
Peter’s feet finally made contact with the mat and a glint in Nat’s eyes shone. He stalked up towards Bucky and Steve, expression changing from one of hesitance to challenge, ready to finally beat them in a spar he was unable to complete last time. He assumed an offensive stance, facing against Bucky and Steve, forming a sort of dangerous triangle. Bucky mirrored his stance, whilst Steve took up a more defensive one, signalling he wasn’t 100% committed to beating the shit out of his nephew toady. Bucky, however, was definitely committed to this battle.
“Давай, сука. (Bring it on, bitch)” Peter whispered at a volume only the 3 super soldiers could hear.
“Ты уже знаешь это, мальчик-паук. (You already know it, Spider-boy.)” Bucky whispered back in the same volume.
Bucky lunged at Peter as Steve went around the latter, serving a sharp jab to the gut. Steve doubled over as genuine concern covered Peter’s face for a fleeting moment. It was short-lived, though, as the spider quickly recovered, putting back on the emotionless sparring mask he always used during training fights. It honestly sometimes sent a chill through Bucky, but absolutely made Steve piss his pants.
The mental stalling Bucky did to disassociate with the Winter Soldier during a battle was not proving useful, making him off-kilter enough for Peter to leap into the air, twisting and turning, landing behind the former, before delivering a strong punch to the neck. Bucky collapsed as well as his partner, dropping onto the floor. Using this to his advantage, Bucky rolled onto his back in order to try and attack Peter from below. The kid’s damned spider sense put a plug in the soldier’s plan, as he leaped onto the ceiling, grabbing on as Bucky threw a punch at thin air. Whilst Bucky was disorientated, Peter took the chance to pounce down onto him, delivering a final pinch to Bucky’s neck, knocking him out cold for a few seconds; just enough to win the fight.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
Peter:
Peter stood, panting over Bucky, whilst Steve stood up and walked over to the bench to recover. Victory adrenaline flooded through his veins, as the realisation that he had actually beaten the two strongest super soldiers on the Earth set in, making a wide grin spread across the satisfied spider’s face.
“Молодец, паучок! (Well done, little spider!)” Natasha called out, a matching grin shining on her face, mirroring Peter.
However, the gleeful moment was short-lived, as the harsh realisation froze him like water in a freezer. His class saw him do that. His Academic Decathlon team saw him beat the shit out of two of the world’s strongest soldiers, known especially for their extreme, inhuman strength and speed, unable to be beaten by anyone – except each other and Natasha – and yet here was a 15-year-old kid, taking down both of them in, like, 2 minutes of actual combat. That has to be a world record somewhere, right?
“Dude, how did you do that?” Abe practically screeched at Peter, hurting his already incredibly sensitive ears.
“I-I-I I do-I don’t know?” Peter pathetically stuttered in response.
Obviously, it wasn’t sufficient enough, as Betty helped answer for him.
“Wow, Peter, how do you fight just like Spiderman?” she quired with no ill will but would cause Peter immense bad fortune if he answered. Luckily, Peter didn’t need to answer that awkward question and settle the rumours.
“That’s cause that’s his fighting style! That’s how he’s always fought.” Pietro helpfully implied.
“Are you saying Peter taught Spiderman how to fight?” Cindy rose her eyebrows at the very thought that Peter couldn’t fight up until about 5 minutes ago.
“No, of course not, he doesn’t know how to teach anyone! He is Spiderman dumbass!” Pietro replied, shaking his head at – what he thought of as – the profound dumbness of such a statement.
However, Natasha and Peter had other ideas; ones that involved wiping off the smug smirk on Pietro’s face. Whilst Natsha managed to keep a calm composure, Peter completely threw his out the window, along with his dignity and happiness, and ran after Pietro, superspeed showing as he gave chase, leaving traumatised adults to deal and fix his shit yet again. A common occurrence in Peter’s struggling life.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
MJ:
To be honest, watching Peter’s secret identity crumble into pieces smaller than nanobots sent a sadistic thrill of pleasure through Michelle’s body. Completely uncalled for, she knows, but definitely in character. Still, the rambling, stampede-like hoard of questions that followed Pietro’s announcement completely tore off MJ’s ears; it should’ve hurt Peter severely, but the rage glowering on his face made it had to believe he felt anything but vexation right now. Seeing her long-term boyfriend flee after the runaway mutant gave MJ closure, mainly in the fact that Pietro would be no more trouble (or just no more if the class hadn’t had signed NDA’s before entering Stark/Avengers’ Tower) after Peter was done with him.
“What did Pietro do now?” Tony Stark announced as he waltzed into the training room – literally, waltzed, whilst trying to dodge a petrified Pietro and a rampaging Peter running for their lives down the multiple halls in the tower. One of which the Iron Man had just crashed – yet twice in one day – their school trip, to the fortune of the lucky hardcore fans in her AcaDec class.
“I made Pete spar Steve and Bucky because I still have a bet worth a couple hundred with Clint, and I refuse to lose any dignity I have to him - but anyway, Pietro revealed Spider’s identity, Silver realised his fuck up, ran away and Spider gave chase and Silver’s now regretting his life decisions.” Natasha summarised.
It was brief, but useful. Stark showed this by a sharp nod of his head and a slight pout, showing his acknowledgement. Then, he switched to his press smile to address MJ’s classmates.
“Alright, you all know the drill: not a word to anyone, ok?” Stark glanced around at the children, never actually maintaining eye contact with any of them.
With nods of approval all around, Stark hummed to himself, turned around and called out to FRIDAY, asking her to alert Pepper of even more press problems and possible lawsuits to deal with by the end of the next week. He knew he would get a talking to by Pepper later, but he could not deal with immature kids twice today. Therefore, he bolted and got the fuck out of there.
After Natasha had answered questions imposingly and vaguely, all the classmates got sent home, only on the promise that they never told anyone what they saw today.

The End
Maybe
There’s probably going to be an epilogue
It’ll be about how Peter deals with this in school
If I can find the motivation
Ok
Anyway
Bye!!

Chapter Text

Epilogue:
(Monday, three days after the trip)
Peter:
Waking up, all Peter Parker-Stark felt was the nervousness of what awaited him at the hell hole the modern government calls school. With all the secret identity becoming not so secret, Peter felt like the weekend whizzed by in an indescribable bur; basically it went too fast. But anyway, Peter was wringing his hands all the way from the bus stop to the tubes (or as the Americans call it, the subway, but I’m British so get over the language differences and suck it) to Midtown High of Science and Technology and the undeniable drama awaiting the enhanced 15-year-old spider-kid.
Whilst Peter regretted even waking up for the first time, geniuses and child prodigies bumped into him, just trying to get to school on time. When Peter finally made it through the stampedes, he strained his ears to find comforting heartbeats/voices. Thankfully, he picked up on his girlfriend and best friend’s passionate conversation on women’s rights displayed in Star Wars. Honestly, listening to the hardcore debate brought a genuine smile to Peter’s lips, one only they could make.
The recently revealed spider-boy weaved his way through the crowds of teenagers, on a mission to reach his best friends mostly unharmed. Unfortunately, he was unsuccessful, having ran into Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson on his way. It took Peter a minute to fully register who he bumped into, considering Flash never arrived at school actually early (or on time, as most people would see it as), so his unexpected appearance came as a surprise to the already anxious boy, making him question even more of his existence, and if his genuine life problems was just a joke to God, funny to everyone but him.
Anyway, with his internal vent over, Peter tried to just carry on his way, keeping his head down and praying to every god out there that Flash just brushed it off, letting Peter live another few hours – well, only until AcaDec practice, when his life would be officially over. Alas, whatever god out there must’ve heard Peter, blinked a few times, laughed their arse off and ignored his desperate pleas, as Flash instantly called him out on it.
“Oi, Penis, watch where you’re going, you hacking, bribing, lying brat!” Flash retorted. Funnily, it was the one of the most sophisticated sentences he had ever said, but that was beyond the point.
Peter rolled his eyes and continued walking, desperate to reach MJ, the only person able to scare of Flash Thompson with a single glare. Peter couldn’t blame him, to be completely honest, as MJ scared Peter just as much, if not more, as she knew his deepest secrets, and therefore could end his life with a simple 4 word statement.
Thankfully, Peter did manage to reach his friends and cower behind them – an easy task, really, considering how short the genes he happened to inherit made him – in order to try and hide from Flash. Lamentably, his efforts were unsuccessful, as Flash spotted his attempts to duck behind MJ, and approached him.
“Hey! We aren’t finished Parker!” Flash called out, trying (and failing) to be menacing and imposing. Honestly, it was hard when Flash was about 5,5” and was smouldering at all the disgusted girls who had the unfortune of surrounding him and witnessing this scene.
Peter sighed heavily and turned back around to face the even shorter boy. Just to annoy him and help show how done with this bullshit he was, Peter looked down at the three inches he had over Flash and using it to his advantage. Luckily, MJ assumed a stance at her boyfriend’s side to show her support.
“What, nothing to stand up for yourself, Penis?” Flash snarked, poking the bear he knew existed and could rip off his limbs at any given moment, but he stupidly continued anyway. “Thought you had Stark’s charisma, you know, his ability to actually defend himself? What happened to that lie?”
“Flash, you’re just jealous you have a shit home life and project your insecurities onto everyone else, you pick-me.” Peter replied with a sense of eerie calmness.
“Woah, trying to lie again to make yourself feel better than everyone else, orphan?” Flash smirked at Peter’s silence, assuming he had won this battle. “Thought you were morally better than that, goody-to-shoes.”
Whilst Peter hadn’t directly responded to Flash, his spider sense was set off when MJ reached into his mind again to try and stop him from doing anything too illegal – after all, he had a reputation to uphold. However, like the absolute amazing supportive girlfriend she was, she did PG some of the insults in Peter’s head to tell Flash.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
MJ:
Whilst checking her boyfriend’s state of mind, MJ saw what he wanted to say, so tried to PG many of his honestly very creative insults. Note to self, MJ thought, don’t let Peter hang out with Wade as much; it’s taking too much of a toll on his golden retriever-ness.
“Eugene, just because you’re small doesn’t give you an automatic excuse to have SAMS (A/N: see notes for meaning, it’s not on google).” MJ replied, rolling her eyes to show she didn’t have time for this.
“Hey, your boyfriend here is small too!” Flash quickly scrambled to defend himself. “And you’re attracted to him, so it’s obviously not a bad quality!”
“First off, Peter is short, not small, there’s a difference. Second, I wasn’t referring to his height.” MJ left the vague suggestion open, as she grabbed Peter and Ned’s respective sleeves and dragged them to form (A/N: or homeroom, I think that’s the American term, I’m not actually sure, but it’s called form in the UK).
During the march to their form room, MJ checked in on Peter, psychic linking to him again. It filled her with a plethora of emotions listening to him chant ‘murder is illegal’ in 5 different languages: fear, concern, pride, warmth and smugness. The fact that Peter could very well literally end Flash’s life scared her – as he could do the same to her, if he wished – but the fact that he wanted to do it filled her with pride, at the fact that her cinnamon bun, golden retriever of a boyfriend was finally standing up for himself.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
(Time Skip to end of the day during AcaDec practice)
Peter:
Hesitantly, Peter trudged into the hall where the Academic Decathlon group met every other day after school to rehearse. Fortunately, MJ was already there, curled into a half-ball-ish position, hanging her legs half off the stage, reading her latest mystery book. Ned had also chosen that exact moment to come sprinting (jogging, really, but whatever) up to Peter’s side in the doorway with the most optimistic grin he had ever seen plastered across his features. Peter found it honestly ironic, considering the hell hole he was about to walk into and the intrusive questions he was going to be inevitably asked with no regard to his personal safety or feelings.
Sensing Peter’s hesitance, Ned pulled Peter into the hall by his sleeve, ready to face all of the latter’s monsters by himself like the wonderful best friend he was. Peter quickly ran into the room he was dragged into unwillingly and sat down in the chair the furthest from civilisation to try and prolong the inexorable. Unfortunately, Peter’s tranquillity didn’t last long, as Flash and his goons tailgated through the door after him and Ned. Within seconds, Peter could feel Flash’s gaze boring holes into the back of his skull. With the intensity of Flash’s glare, Peter didn’t even need his spider senses to feel the danger radiating off of the bully.
Peter could feel and anticipate the tension and apprehension in the room, waiting for a battle of sorts, to let Peter finally serve Flash a taste of his own medicine, Spiderman style. Honestly, they didn’t really have any questions for Peter, considering Natasha had answered all of them after Flash had left the room in a strop after being proved wrong and becoming scared of Peter, mainly his abilities and what he could do to Flash to enact his revenge. But still, basically Flash was the only one who had questions and grudges to settle.
“Ay, Penis Parker, surprised you had the balls to show your face after bribing the Avengers and Stark Industries to fuel your lies” Apparently, Flash woke up on the bitchy side of the bed today.
“Gesù Cristo, per favore, stai zitto, (Jesus Christ, please shut up)” Peter mouthed to himself, using the phrases his dad had taught him over the past few years.
MJ, understandning Peter’s Italian, snickered in response. “L'hai detto tu, tesoro. (You said it, honey)” She encouraged him on.
“Grazie, MJ! (Thank you, MJ)” Peter exclaimed in relief and exhaustion, glad of the support he was finally getting.
Peter’s classmates watched on in awe and fascination as the two conversed in fluent Italian, whilst others also wondered just how many languages Peter could speak. Still, they all gazed whilst Flash continued to be brutally insulted in 3 different languages; Russian, Italian and Spanish. By the end, they were incredibly creative, using terms like “даже Дэдпул не стал бы тебя трахать (Even Deadpool wouldn’t fuck you)” shouted by MJ in Russian and “non puoi ancora usare i Lego: devi usare Duplo (you can't use Legos yet - you have to use Duplo)” from a hysteric Italian Peter.
Flash, looking like the monolingual idiot he was, kept looking between the two passionate multilinguals shrieking at him and opening and closing his mouth like a gaping fish. To the onlookers – who also understood little to nothing of what was being said – all struggled to hold in their laughter at Flash’s ego slowly crumbling in real time in front of them. Seriously, it was a real struggle.
“Y ni siquiera tu abuela puede mentirte para decirte que eres bonita. (And not even your grandmother can lie to you to tell you that you are pretty)” Peter finished off the one-sided roast battle, whilst MJ high fived him and congratulated him in Russian.
“Молодец, неудачник. (Well done, loser)” she smirked at him.
Usually, Peter would get a full blown beaming smile afterwards, but understood that she had a reputation to keep up in public. He knew that she’d be more genuine later. Accepting the brief congratulations, Peter turned back to look at the damage – read: Flash.
Whilst Peter will be the first to admit, some of the comments were really harsh, Flash didn’t look all too affected by it; mainly as he didn’t understand any of them, but that’s besides the point here. Flash was still standing awkwardly, like a school girl who thought it was a party but turned up to a study group instead. He glanced around the room to try and get help from his teammates, even his friends, but all just pursed and bit their lips, trying to hold back the laughter. Playing devil’s advocate, maybe Peter was a little – very – harsh on Flash, but he also deserved it and honestly should’ve seen it coming. Not only had Flash taken to making Peter’s life absolute fucking hell, he made other kids’ lives absolute fucking hell as well; kids that couldn’t stand up for themselves or be able to heal from the punches like Peter could. So, honestly, even Peter’s golden morals let him have this one with minimal guilt.
——•————•————•————•————•————•————•————•——
MJ
Surprisingly, decathlon practice went but smoothly after the multilingual insults situation earlier. Honestly, MJ was quite pleased with herself at how creative she was able to get with her roasts, her favourite being ‘Tu puntería es peor que la de un Stormtrooper ciego con Parkinson’, or Your aim is worse than that of a blind Stormtrooper with Parkinson's- one that many of her classmates were able to decode form their spanish lessons.
Flash didn’t try and poke the spider – Peter – after that, but came narrowly close to calling him ‘Penis Parker’ a couple of times. It just became the new rule that you didnt mess with Peter Parker-Stark.

Ok The Actual End Now
THANK YOU FOR READING ALL OF THIS
I Know you have stuff to do instead of this but so did I
AGAIN THANK YOU SO SO SO SO SO MUCH!!!!!!!
This took me so so so many months to finish, from about mid-June to early-October
I HAVE ANOTHER STORY COMING HOPEFULLY BY THE END OF THE MONTH
STICK AROUND FOR IT
BYEEEEE!!!!!!!!