Chapter Text
There’s a fiery burn in his thighs and ankles as sharp, icy wind whips in his face, ever punishing. It bears strong in pushing him back, slowing him down as he dashes past piles of trash, bystanders, and unreliable fire escapes. Jeering, sick laughter echoes in his ears as the sound bounces off the alley walls.
There’s no web-shooters to flee, and definitely no suit to help protect him.
Just Peter Parker.
His sense spikes in alarm, dulled by the migraine from the strong scents around him. Skidding to the side, he barely dodges the slash of a knife meant for his shoulder. Immediately after, a strong hand shoves him to the ground, heavy legs straddling his back as Peter growls in defense, scrambling against the wet concrete with desperation thrumming under his skin.
“No, get off-“
Before another denial can escape his lips, the same hand roughly grips the skin of the back of his neck, making him go fully limp as a small, pained whine leaves his lips.
Everything goes numbingly dark.
“Daddy!”
A high-pitched cry has him blinking awake. Within a second, he’s at his daughter’s bedside, mind still reeling from the ghosts of memories that haunt him through his nightmares. Instantly, she throws herself into his arms, chest heaving and Peter focuses on her, his mind momentarily clearing.
“What’s wrong, bub?” He soothes, rubbing her back as small pants leave her tiny body.
“Had a nightmare…” she sniffles, leaning back to look up at him with big, teary round eyes, “there were green aliens invading our house!”
Her dreams used to alarm Peter with how vivid they were and frankly, concerning. Especially given that aliens have invaded Earth before. Though, she was not around to bear witness to it. He tsks softly.
“See? I told you it wasn’t a good idea to watch that movie too close to bedtime,” Peter gently pulls the blanket back over her, “gotta let the scary things fade before going to sleep.”
The frown hasn’t left her face, but she nods anyway, small fingers curled around his hand.
“You’re gonna stay right?” She asks, as if his bed isn’t a mere three feet away. Peter thinks he understands though, gaze softening.
“Yeah, I’ll be right here.” He promises, rubbing his thumb over her brow as she shuts her eyes again.
As soft snores fill the air, Peter quietly returns to his own bed only to lie awake the rest of the night, eyes wide as he stares up at his ceiling.
The memories don’t fade.
Soon enough, the sun is shining intensely through the windows and Peter’s apartment is filled with the scent of freshly made breakfast and the bustle of domestic chaos.
“Alright, say thank you to Ms. Rivera for breakfast.” Peter raises a brow to Leia, who has begun shoveling pancakes into her mouth with her tiny plastic fork.
“Tank yu, Mfs.Ruffera.” Leia grins as she chews and the older lady cleaning off the pan coos, pinching her cheek with her clean hand while her other is sticky with pancake batter.
“You’re welcome, Princess Leia.” She turns to Peter then, smiling softly at him. Leia grins to herself off to the side.
“Thank you, seriously,” Peter murmurs gratefully, “I can cover the cost of the eggs-”
“Peter,” she says softly, gentle lavender scent making his shoulders relax, “don’t worry about it, I love taking care of you two. Now head to work, I’ll take her to school in a bit.”
His mouth parts in surprise, still unused to such blatant generosity, but he shakes it off, grabbing his bag and giving Leia a kiss on her temple as she squeals happily.
“Bye, bub,” he calls out, “bye Ms. Rivera!”
“Bye bye daddy!” Leia waves at him with her sticky hand and Peter’s chest squeezes with something fond as he shuts the door behind him.
Part of his distinction between Peter Parker and Spider-man is that Peter Parker - to most - is a reserved, snappy omega who is damn good at his job. Peter Parker is intelligent, holds his cards close to his chest and has seemingly isolated himself from the rest of the world. There’s no family to tie him to, not since May died a year back, a horrific accident that left Peter with a minimal life insurance payout and a five-year-old to raise on his own. His neighbor across the hall, Ms. Rivera became a sturdy pillar in his life, one of the only people he trusts with his identity and Leia’s safety. His bond with her existed far before May died, and there’s no telling what his or Leia’s life would be like without her.
On the other hand, Spider-man is an exudance of confidence and somewhat childish banter. An endless chatter box whose scent is completely unremarkable. Many online forums have begun to assume the masked vigilante is a beta or just never presented, their reasonings paired with the various theories of how he gained the ability to climb walls in the first place. Additionally, many note he never seems to cower when confronted with an opposing alpha, nor does he partake in his alpha peers’ more aggressive behaviors that make their subgender clear as day. There’s alphas like Steve Rogers who use their status sparingly, only intimidating other alphas if the mission calls for it.
What a boyscout.
Then, there’s the Punisher, who typically will minimize his scent with patches, that Peter begrudgingly provides for him, since Frank Castle technically is a wanted man. Though, no one in New York would dare to out him, as the innocent often find solace in anyone, no matter how violent, limiting the local crime.
Then, there’s Daredevil who may as well be announcing to the entire world exactly where he is when he’s on patrol and where he’s been. A more intense, aggressive cedar scent trails after him while he’s out.
Matt states he does it to make people think he’s an asshole and to leave him the fuck alone.
Spider-man takes one look at him and even through his lenses can tell he’s an asshole just fine.
“Don’t need to smell you for that, Devil.”
Matt rolled his eyes at him then, scent souring when a couple of the others laughed. Peter had snickered at the clear annoyance on his face, barely dodging the rubber eraser thrown at his head.
“Mr. Parker.”
A simple call of his name has his head snapping up, mind clearing as his wide eyes find an amused, narrow pair at the doorway. His fellow coworkers glance in his direction, murmuring to themselves.
He’s always calling him out.
Special treatment much?
Do you think he’s his sugar baby?
Peter clears his throat, ignoring the hushed comments around him. He hates whenever Tony pulls stunts like this. Even with their loosely balanced, complicated history, Tony still finds ways to meddle in his life.
Though, Peter should be grateful the older man hasn’t fired him from his day job.
“Mr. Stark.” He responds briefly, trying not to look too rushed as Tony waves him over and walks down the hall, knowing Peter will follow him.
It’s a quiet, somewhat uncomfortable silence as Peter follows just a couple steps behind. He knows better than to walk in the same line as the CEO of Stark Industries, the alpha who funds the Avengers and even some of the street-level heroes. There’s a palpable distance between them, even as Tony pushes for their relationship to be more friendly than boss and subordinate. More friendly than simply Iron Man and Spider-man.
Tony smiles at him politely as they enter the elevator, the doors quietly closing. He takes that moment to speak.
“Leia doing good in school?”
The man knows how to get Peter to talk, that’s for sure, as he finds himself relaxing ever so slightly. Peter almost hates how well the older man still knows him.
“She’s smarter than I am.”
Is all he says, eyebrow raising as Tony genuinely laughs.
“I highly doubt that, Peter,” Tony smirks, “you know though, you could enroll her at that one gifted gradeschool down the street.”
Already, he’s shaking his head, having had a similar conversation with the man no more than a month ago.
“I’ll see, that’d be…a lot to handle.” He says honestly, his vagueness making Tony cross his arms and offer him a somewhat considerate stare that has Peter shifting uncomfortably. Old habits die hard.
“I could help out with the cost and transport-”
“I have it covered. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”
Peter says clinically. Because it always boils down to Tony offering him more favors Peter cannot repay. Because when he first started this whole masked vigilante life, he visited the tower’s medical bay no less than once a week, too new and still too clumsy for when things got particularly violent. He owes Tony more than he can give him within a lifetime, that debt looming over Peter’s current guilt like a weight he can’t shake off. Even then, there’s a pained look to Tony’s eyes every time Peter denies him that he refuses to acknowledge. Like he’s scared Peter may slip from his hands. Again.
Even as Peter had pushed himself off that pedestal of mentor and protege.
I feel responsible for you, Peter.
A worried, melancholic Tony had told him, a firm hand on his shoulder as Peter just buried the woman who helped raise him. In his grief, all Peter could think about was being recruited at 14 to fight a war on a side he’d been manipulated into, being left alone in his shitty, pajama-like suit as he lifted an entire building off his back, and his only support system in this lonesome path being yanked from under his feet as life threw everything it possibly could at him. Things had somewhat repaired themselves after that, bandaids were placed over deep cracks and wounds that only furthered as Peter got older.
As Peter changed.
At 17, Peter walked into the Stark building, excited as ever to return after a rough week of his presentation, cheap scent patches doing little to hide the fresh scent of strawberries with a sweet tinge of honey. Restless, Peter anxiously awaited the big mission he'd been told about. The one that would finally put him at the same level as the Avengers. The one Tony had been promising him.
One look at Peter’s tired eyes and shaky hands had Stark’s nostrils flaring, his scent intensifying almost angrily. Like he’d hoped this wasn’t going to happen.
Go home.
Caught off guard, Peter had argued against it, but it was pointless at the time. Pointless in the face of the alpha who’d taken him under his wing, who was his superior.
You can’t be out there like this. He told Peter. You’re vulnerable, a liability.
They’d barely coasted over that bump in their relationship, Peter spending weeks in a lab creating scent patches to completely rid him of his sweet scent. When he returned, Stark casted him a frustrated glance, but could do nothing to stop him. And nothing to cut the tension. Then, a year passed with professional, light communication. Neither side willing to take the higher ground and confront the other.
Then, Peter disappeared for months, Spider-man appearing minimally and in a new suit Tony couldn’t recognize, making his tracker in the original suit useless. Peter Parker was off the grid, as was Spider-man. The apartment was even emptied out, and Tony could only assume they’d left the state, and maybe Peter realized being a vigilante wasn’t for him.
He hoped.
Only for him to pop up as Spider-man after 5 months of no spottings of the vigilante, and Iron Man ambushed him on a lone rooftop. Merely getting a breath of fresh air, Peter hadn’t given himself time to apply the scent patches, as Tony caught a hint of a milky scent aligned with Peter’s. Nearing his rut, Tony could only find anger, rather than relief at seeing the young omega safe and sound. Though, Peter had jumped up, eyes wide beneath the mask, a tinge of fear spiking his heart rate. He hadn’t expected Tony to come for him.
The boy Tony considered a son, though Peter was blind to it, or perhaps, was too scared to acknowledge it.
You got fucking pregnant? Why the hell would you do that to yourself?
Lenses narrowed, Peter backed away, hurt coursing through his body and evident in the way his scent wilted.
You know nothing.
He left Tony with those three words, quickly firing a web bomb at him that left him stuck to the roof for 20 minutes as Spider-man swung away.
As if a separate person, Peter Parker still showed up for work, given he was the head biochemist that had been missing for almost a year. Impressively, he was welcomed back by his peers as if nothing happened. Tony was helpless to it, easily giving Peter back his title at the confused, nearly frustrated glances from the other scientists who would see nothing but wasted potential in firing Peter. And eventually, Spider-man would show an assist on tougher missions, though he would swing away before Iron Man could even think about stopping him.
I feel responsible for you, Peter.
At the time, the thought had echoed in his mind then and is starting to again now. A weary, remorseful Tony glanced at him, as Peter opened the invite to his aunt’s funeral to anyone who once knew her. The words came after losing Peter’s trust, adoration, and affection. Because all Peter could rely on him for was a job that paid decent and mission assignments. No more mentorship, no more favors to be repaid, and no chance of a proper reconcilement.
Wet grass shriveling under his black dress shoes, Peter shrugged the hand off his shoulder, looking Tony square in the eyes.
That’s just the guilt. He muttered, before walking the other direction, Leia’s small, innocent hand in his.
Tony sighs then, nearly startling Peter out of his thoughts, a push and pull he’s familiar with already.
“Pete-”
“What do you need me for?” He asks, looking Tony in the eyes easily, irises still holding a glint of hurt he hasn’t quite let go of. Though, his scent remains steady, certain.
The elevator doors open and Tony quickly drops the small talk, clearing his throat as they enter Tony’s private and empty lab.
“It’s about the gang you took down last week,” Peter doesn’t bother questioning how he knows about it, “it runs deeper than a simple one-time attack.”
Peter nods, remembering. There’d been a pattern to a couple arrests he helped make within the past couple months. All of them being attacks on unremarkable individuals, no particular motives that revolved around attacking a particularly big name. Instead-
“It connects to the Hand’s warehouse Daredevil, Jones and I took control of last month,” Peter notes, glancing over Tony’s holographic images, “there were a dozen teens working there, almost all unpresented, a couple omegas. Similar to what I found last week.”
Simultaneously impressed and annoyed he didn’t get a chance to explain, Tony fidgets with his screen, swiping through. Peter’s jaw clenches, realizing Tony hadn’t expected Peter to remember it to such fine details. Lately, frustration comes easily to him.
“Right…the thing is, I wanted to ask you to keep more of an eye on it, along with the Defenders,” Tony explains and Peter wants to roll his eyes, “it’s not exactly an Avengers’ level threat, but-”
“It’s shady, street-level…but could become bigger,” Peter agrees, “I’ve been reviewing the footage my lenses recorded with the others already. I’ll keep more of an eye out.”
Tony nods, looking pleased they’ve gotten through a single conversation without one of them shouting at the other.
“Yes, just…let me know if you need-”
“No,” Peter insists, stepping back, “I’ve got it…I gotta…get back to work.”
He walks back to the elevator easily, leaving Tony alone in his lab.
Hours later, Peter finds himself on a rooftop, feet dangling over the edge as he swings them mindlessly. He breathes the brisk air in deeply, slightly unfamiliar sounds and scents filling his senses as he’s somewhat far from home. At least, for a typical nightly patrol. Like usual, interactions with Tony often leave him tense for the remainder of the day, his mind already reeling from the nightmares that haunt him in place of sleep. Taking another deep breath, Peter steadies himself, leaning back.
“EV, show me baby monitor.”
He mutters, watching as a small, black-and-white image appears from the tiny watch on his wrist, Leia sleeping soundly underneath a thick blanket and on a pillow that looks too large for her little head. He breathes out a gentle sigh of relief, shoulders slumping before turning the image off. A small smile appears behind the mask as Leia shifts, clutching the blanket closer.
“Let me know if she wakes up,” Peter adds, “even if I’m in combat, okay?”
Peter couldn’t possibly ask Ms. Rivera to watch her every night, so his new development has quickly become the solution to those days. Where Peter feels too guilt-ridden to ask Ms.Rivera to take in his child for the night, just so he can patrol. Instead, Peter waits patiently until she sleeps, keeping an eye on her even as he’s blocks away, defending the streets of New York. May would have an aneurysm if she were around to see it.
“Alright, Peter.” His AI responds easily before some form of quiet returns to him. Though, things are never quiet, not when he can hear the conversation the couple on the ground below is having, when cars are honking left and right, and the vent behind him is so obstructively noisy he can’t help but wonder how outdated it must be.
An inorganic clang of metal sounds out from his right and his sense spikes so suddenly, he finds himself shooting out a web before bothering to see what it could be.
Easily, Daredevil dodges the shot aimed for his hand that had accidentally thudded against the fire escape, spinning out of the way and staring at the web, unimpressed.
“One of these days your sense should be able to distinguish my presence from that of a criminal’s.” Matt grins, tucking his baton back in its holder as he walks over to Peter. He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he turns back to the city.
“Where would the fun in that be?” Peter hums, “someone has to humble you.”
Simply, Matt snorts at that, standing slightly behind Peter, his earthy scent emanating from him easily, even through Peter’s mask, which was designed to help filter out the effect of any scents. Fortunately enough, Matt knows better than to try anything on Spider-man. Though, a small part of Peter suspects Matt wouldn’t ever do something like that.
“What’s got you here, Spidey?” Matt wonders aloud, “a little out of your zone, don’t you think?”
Sure, everyone knows Spider-man is based in Queens. Though sometimes, he’ll find himself in other parts of the state, making up for the lack of a hero in that specific area.
Or in this case, testing the range of the baby monitor addition, as he instinctively swung himself to Hell’s Kitchen. To Matt’s point, many street-level heroes or criminals feel discomfort in exploring other areas of their community not belonging to them. Though, Peter has been through enough with Matt as Spider-man for him to be welcomed pretty easily.
Well, by Daredevil at least, since Matt is unfortunately one of the few aware of Spider-man’s subgender, though unaware of his identity as Peter Parker. An accident that still makes Peter wince, the reason he never patrols the day after his heat breaks. Not when Matt ran into him in an alley, Peter’s chest heaving with exertion as he had beat Matt to detaining a couple robbers. A hint of strawberries had Matt looking around anxiously, until he realized who it was coming from. Though the second Peter sensed him, and heard a slight inhale from Matt’s end, he fled, swinging up and away. Later, Matt would pull him aside and assure him it’s likely only he smelled it because of his enhanced senses, then Peter would tell him Fuck off, even as the words brought him a small bout of relief.
“Just enjoying the natural…beauty here.” Peter says dreamily, sarcasm dripping from his words.
“Ah yes,” Matt nods, amusement evident, “the scent of smog, trash, and idiotic people doing idiotic shit.”
With the steady, white noise of the night, the shattering of glass echoes in both of their ears, followed by a gunshot that has Peter springing to his feet immediately. He narrows his eyes at Matt.
“You just had to say something.” He grumbles and Matt shrugs, nothing but smugness radiating from him.
“Duty calls.” Is all he says before he leaps down the fire escape and Peter follows, webbing himself off the roof.