#harley keener angst

[spoodrm4n]

only five days late... but better late than never!

[waitimcomingtoo]

This Means War

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: Peter and his crush on you feel threatened when your childhood best friend Harley Keener comes to visit and clearly harbors feelings for you

Masterlist

“Do you think I’d explode if I drank this?” You asked and swished around the insides of the beaker you were holding. Peter looked up at you through his lab goggled and chuckled.

“I don’t know. You should try it.”

“You say that now but you’d be so sad if I exploded.” You insisted. “You’d have no one to watch Over the Hedge with.”

“Wait, can we watch Over the Hedge tonight?” He pleaded. “I forgot about that movie. I love it so much.”

“I know you do. Which is why you’re gonna be sad and alone watching it tonight and thinking wow, I wish I didn’t let my best friend explode.” You shrugged and put the beaker down.

“Um, excuse you. I would never be best friends with a girl. You have cooties and go to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong.” You chortled. “Because I actually went to college to get more knowledge. It’s boys who went to Jupiter to get more stupider.”

“But if I, as a boy, successfully figured out how to travel to Jupiter, wouldn’t that make me the smarter one? Since I cracked interplanetary travel?”

“I think you should drink this.” You said after a beat of silence and held the beaker up. Peter laughed and you did too. He snuck another glance at you as you combined the contents of two flasks and made a tiny explosion. You often accompanied him in the lab when he was at the Avengers tower despite not being much of a scientist yourself. You just liked to help and watch as he did his thing.

“Thanks for helping me, by the way.” Peter said. “I’m sure you have a million other things you’d rather be doing than helping me develop new kinds of web fluid.”

“I don’t mind.” You shrugged. “If you throw out the words “tornado web”, of course I’m gonna want to help you make that possible. Plus, I like spending time in the lab with you.”

“You do? Because so do I.” He said as a blush covered his face. You looked up from what you were working on and gave him a smile. Peter sucked in a sharp breath and cleared his throat.

“Um, so, I’m just gonna throw this out there and you can tell me how you feel.” Peter began. “I was wondering if maybe sometime you’d want to-“

“Where is she?” Peter was cut off by an unfamiliar voice booming through the lab. You immediately looked up and pulled your goggles down.

“Harley?” You asked, sending a twinge of jealousy down to Peter’s stomach.

“Who?” He asked you. His question was answered by a tall, sandy blonde guy walking into the lab. He wore an oversized corduroy jacket with patches on the elbows that made him look the kind of effortlessly cool Peter could only dream of looking.

“Harley!” You exclaimed and put your beaker down to run to him. Peter watched with furrowed eyebrows as you threw your arms around Harley’s neck and hugged him tightly. Harley wrapped both arms around you and lifted you off the ground as he spun around.

“There’s my girl. I missed you so much.” He said into your ear as he swayed back and forth with you in his arms.

“I missed you too.” You told him as you pulled out of the hug but stayed in his arms. Peter felt like he was about to pass out and maybe even die over the sight in front of him so he cleared his throat to remind you he was there.

“Hi. Sorry, your girl? Who is this guy?” Peter asked you through a forced laugh as he shit daggers at Harley.

“Oh, sorry. Peter, this is Harley Keener. He’s my dad’s friend.” You explained as you slid out of Harley’s embrace but kept an arm around his torso.

“Your dad’s friend? How old is he?” Peter asked.

“He is your age. Feel free to direct any of your questions at me, by the way.” Harley said sarcastically but playfully to Peter.

“Harley, this is Peter. My dad’s other young adult male friend.” You told Harley. Harley held out his hand and Peter shook it as hard as he could while never breaking eye contact with who he had now deemed his competition.

“Right. I’ve heard of you. You’re the one that can shrink down really small, right?” Harley asked while still shaking Peters hand. Peter narrowed his eyes at Harley when he registered the subtle shade and tightened his grip.

“No. That’s Antman. Peter is Spiderman.” You explained. Peter gave you a look that told you to stop talking since you had just revealed his identity.

“It’s okay. We can trust Harley. He’s known everyone’s secret alias’s from before the Avengers were even a thing. He’s not gonna tell anybody.” You assured Peter.

“Yeah, you can trust me. But sorry for the mix up. I just assumed you had shrunk yourself to be that short.” Harley smirked as he stopped shaking Peter’s hand.

“I’m not short.” Peter defended. “I’m the average height of a woman.”

“I bet you are.” Harley snorted. “You said it was Peter, right?”

“Yes. A man’s name. That makes one of us.” Peter mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“That’s weird. You’ve never mentioned him, Sands.” Harley said to you as he slung an arm over your shoulders. Peters jaw tightened as his eyes flickered between you and Harley.

“Sands?” Peter asked you.

“Oh, it’s an old nickname from when we were kids that he still insists on using for some reason.” You said and playfully rolled your eyes.

“How cute.” Peter scrunched his nose. “Who doesn’t love nicknames?”

“I’m guessing you do, Spiderman. How did you get your powers anyway? Did you fall into a giant tank of spiders or something?” Harley asked, making you laugh.

“No. No one has a giant tank of spiders just lying around uncovered. I got bitten. And then it got infected. And now I’m really sticky and sensitive to loud noises and don’t need glasses anymore.” Peter stated with zero amusement in his voice.

“Hm. I’m starting to see why you didn’t bring this guy up, Sands.” Harley whispered in your ear but Peter still heard. He gulped and felt his jealousy grow as you leaned into Harley to hear him better.

“I’m sorry, how did you say you two know each other?” Peter asked through another fake laugh.

“My dad befriended Harley when we were kids. He’s a family friend now. He and his mom come over for holidays and family dinner sometimes but I haven’t seen him in a while since his band went on tour.”

Peter fought the urge to laugh at him being in a band but didn’t when he remembered that you had a thing for band guys. He looked Harley up and down and had to admit that he was your type to a T.

“So you grew up together? Thats great. You must have a real sibling bond now after knowing each other all those years. And you know what they say about siblings.“

“And what do they say about siblings?” Harley asked him with an amused smile.

“Well I didn’t think I’d have to explain why incest is bad to you but I guess I don’t know how you do things down in…wherever you’re from.”

“I’m originally from Tennessee. And you’re right, we do have a special bond. Y/n was my best friend before her dad sent her to fancy private school and she got all pretty and made rich friends.” Harley teased and gave your shoulder a squeeze.

“Hey. We’re still friends.” You insisted.

“Best friends, though?” He asked skeptically. You laughed and looked at Peter, whose expression immediately made you drop your smile. You and Harley were not as close as you used to be and in his absence, you’d grown close to Peter. In that moment, you didn’t really know who you considered your best friend.

“Peter and I were actually just in the middle of making something. You can totally stick around and help but I know you’re not much of a science guy.” You said to change the subject.

“That’s okay. I’m gonna go say hi to your mom and catch up with you later, all right?” Harley asked as he placed a hand on each of your shoulders. He was so touchy with you and to make matters worse, you looked perfectly comfortable with it. Despite you and Peter being close, you were never the type of friends to show physical affection.

“Okay. Thanks for saying hi. We’ll talk later.” You replied.

“We will. Now come on. Bring it in.” Harley smiled and opened his arms to you. Your eyes flicked to Peter again who looked like someone had take his batteries out. You felt inexplicably guilty as you stepped into Harley’s arms for a hug.

“Missed you.” Harley hummed as he rubbed his hand in circles on your back.

“Missed you too.” You said as you stared into Peter’s eyes over Harley’s shoulder. Harley gave your arm a squeeze before leaving the lab, leaving you and Peter in awkward silence for a while.

“What?” You laughed nervously to break the silence.

“You really never mentioned me to him?” Peter asked quietly.

“I have. I definitely told him about the time you got your finger stuck in that park bench.”

“Okay, well that was really traumatic for me so thanks for bringing that up. I’m glad that’s the one thing worth mentioning about me.” Peter grumbled and went back to working on his web fluid.

“Peter, come on.” You groaned. “Don’t be mad at me. I talk about you all the time. He probably just didn’t remember because I usually call you “my friend” when I tell a story about you since he doesn’t know you.”

“Okay. That makes sense. But how come you never mentioned him to me? Did you know want me to know about this other guy best friend or something?”

“I have mentioned him. Remember I told you about the friend I used to play house with? But we’d always fight because we both wanted to be the dog?”

“He definitely looks the part of the dog.” Peter mumbled.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Be nice. He’s my friend.”

“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little weird that this whole time there was this guy you have whole history with and I didn’t know anything about him until today. I guess I just thought we knew everything about each other.” Peter said without looking you in the eyes.

“You’re right. It is weird. I guess I just never really thought about explicitly telling you about him. He’s just kinda been a passing figure in my stories from my childhood. But you know, you and I have deep history too. So deep that when you and I are together, I’m not thinking about other people I know. I’m only thinking about you and how God damn annoying you are when you ignore my ideas but then magically come up with the exact same one ten minutes later.”

“Because only men are allowed to have good ideas.” Peter laughed now that you had put some of his nerves to rest.

“You’re right. Sorry, sir. I forgot.” You said meekly, making Peter laugh. He was able to relax now that you talked it out but he was still curious.

“So, did you and Harry-“

“Harley.” You corrected.

“Yeah, whatever.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you guys ever date or anything?”

You were quiet for a minute which was exactly what Peter was afraid of. It looked like you were thinking of something, a memory that Peter didn’t have access to but desperately wished he did.

“No. We were only ever friends.” You said finally.

“But did you ever like him? Like, like like him?”

“Like like like?” You teased him.

“You’re avoiding the question.” Peter said without sharing in your laughter. You stopped smiling and shrugged a little.

“I don’t know. I’ve known him a really long time. So yeah, I’m sure there were a few times where I wondered if we were meant to be more than friends. But nothing ever happened between us.”

“Oh.” Peter said curtly and nodded his head. You snuck a glance at Peter but he was looking down so you couldn’t tell what his face was doing.

“Why do you ask?” You wondered.

“I’m just curious since I don’t know anything about the alleged childhood best friend of my young adult best friend.”

“Well don’t be. Because there’s nothing to know.”

“You’ve been friends with him since you were kids but there’s nothing to know? How boring is this guy?” Peter snorted and hoped you’d say he was the least interesting person you knew.

“He’s not boring. You remind me of him a lot, actually. You guys are very similar.”

“Does that mean you’ve ever wondered about us?” Peter asked before he could stop himself. You froze and looked up at Peter who was bright red under his goggles.

“Um…” You began. Before you had a chance to finish that thought, the contents of your beaker exploded and webs shot all over your section of the lab table. You jumped in surprise and Peter ran over to you to pull you away from the explosion. He kept you behind his back as he threw a towel over the smoking beaker to snuff it out.

“Maybe that’s enough lab work for the day.” You said as the smoke alarms began to blare. Peter covered his sensitive ears with his hands and you smiled apologetically before putting your hands on top of his to further block out the noise.

“I have, by the way. I have wondered about us.” You admitted as you looked into his eyes.

“What? What about pus?” Peter shouted over the noise. You smiled tightly and shook your head.

“Nothing. Let’s get out of here.”

A few days later, you and Peter were back in the lab to work on some things. Harley was still visiting, much to Peter’s dismay. But nevertheless, he was grateful to have alone time in the lab with you without any interruptions. That is, of course, until you were interrupted.

“Hey, you.” Harley greeted as he walked into the lab in water another oversized jacket that made him look like the love interest in an 80s movie.

“Hey, you.” You smiled in response while Peter discreetly rolled his eyes.

“Hello Peter.” Harley said with a tight smile.

“Hey, Harry.” Peter replied. Harley caught the intentional misnomer but didn’t say anything.

“Woah. Why does it smell like badussy in here?” Harley grimaced as he sniffed the air.

“Stop.” You groaned. “It does not.”

“What’s badussy?” Peter asked.

“Um, butt, dick and pussy. Obviously.” Harley replied as if Peter should have already known that.

“No. Not obviously. I only know what two thirds of those smell like, so.” Peter shrugged.

“You’re telling me you’ve never walked into a humid public bathroom and it smelled like straight up cooch in there?” You asked Peter.

“Um, no.” Peter stated. “I have not. Men’s public bathrooms usually smell like wide open ass. No notes of cooch.”

“He’s right.” Harley agreed. “Especially New York bathrooms. And there’s usually poop or blood or after birth smeared on the walls.”

Peter stifled a laugh and turned his head when he found it harder than he expected. Harley noticed Peter laughing and smirked.

“It’s okay. You can laugh at my jokes.” Harley told him.

“I wasn’t.” Peter lied and held in another laugh.

“You so were. You guys don’t have to sworn enemies, you know. You’re allowed to be friends.” You told them.

“No we can’t.” Harley shook his head.

“He’s right. Shockingly. We can’t.” Peter agreed.

“Why not? You’re like the helvetica and comic sans version of each other.”

“Who’s comic sans?” Peter asked at the same time Harley said, “I call helvetica.”

“See?” You laughed. “You guys are meant to be friends. So get off your high horses and French kiss each other already.”

“We are so not gonna French kiss.” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah. If I’m French kissing anyone in this room, it’s not gonna be him.” Harley replied. His sentence both flirted with you and took a dig at Peter, giving Harley the upper hand once again.

“She doesn’t want to French kiss anyone. She infamously thinks that’s the grossest form of kissing. I’m surprised you don’t know that. I thought you guys were best friends.” Peter tilted his head to the side just to piss Harley off. Harley took the bait and folded his lips in.

“I’m surprised too. When did she tell you that? Did she mention it while you guys were braiding each other’s hair and making foul smelling potions?” Harley asked and swished the contents of the beaker around.

“First of all, they’re not potions because we’re not Minecraft witches.” Peter snapped. “And secondly, we don’t braid each other’s hair. She gave me one braid one time when my barber actually left a long strand of hair and I wanted a tiny padawan braid.”

“You’re telling me this smoking beaker of green fluid isn’t a potion? What the hell even is this? Fuel for a fart gun?” Harley grimaced and put the beaker down. You laughed at Harley’s questions, sending white hot jealousy through Peter’s veins. He could feel you slipped through his fingers and falling right into Harley’s arms.

“No. Because I’m not a character from Despicable Me, it’s not fuel for a fart gun.” Peter replied and snatched the beaker.

“Then what is it? Don’t tell me you made a love potion to get her to fall for you. Because I hate to tell you this, but it’s not gonna work. No matter how many strands of her hair or fingernail clippings you threw in there.”

“Stop teasing him.” You warned. “It’s a not a love potion or a fart gun. We’re trying to make a web fluid that doubles as a stink bomb in case he needs to make a quick escape.”

“Ew. What the hell is web fluid? And where does it come out?” Harley grimaced and looked Peter up and down.

“For a dollar, I’ll show you.” Peter said with a wink.

“Web fluid is one of Peters many inventions. It helps him swing from building to building.” You explained.

“Oh yeah? Why do you have to make it in a lab? Shouldn’t Spiderman be able to produce his own webs?” Harley asked Peter.

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you be in school or an AA meeting for skinny jeans or something?” Peter shot back, making you laugh.

“How would it be an AA meeting if it’s for skinny jeans? Wouldn’t that make is skinny jeans anonymous?” Harley pulled apart his joke, making Peter clench his jaw.

“Well I don’t attend the meetings so I’m not sure what they’re called.” Peter shrugged and looked away.

“Right, right. Hey, why don’t you tell him what you said about my skinny jeans?” Harley said to you.

“I said nothing.” You mumbled.

“Come on. Tell him what you said.” Harley laughed and poked your side. Peter watched the interaction and clenched his toes in his shoes.

“What did you say?” Peter asked you, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“I said I liked them because they remind me of the frat boy pictures of Harry and Niall from back in the day, okay? Specifically that picture with the yellow hat and white shirt. Is that what you all wanted to hear? Are you both happy now?”

Peter discreetly punched the table out of frustration because he knew exactly what photo you were talking about. He knew because you had shown it to him when teaching him out the epic high and lows of reading One Direction at a formative age.

“Well she once told me that my outfit reminded her of Alex’s hot Italian boyfriend from Wizards of Waverly Place.” Peter replied in an attempt to level the playing field.

“Dean Moriarty.” You gasped. “He was so fucking hot.”

“Oh yeah. I remember him. We used to watch that show together after school. In my living room. Sharing one blanket.” Harley recalled the memory while looking at Peter to see if that bothered him as much as he hoped.

“Okay well I see your one musty blanket and raise you the time she sat on my lap because there weren’t enough seats in the car. And her pony tail was in my mouth for the whole ride. Sounds like a really comfortable blanket, though. Congrats.”

“Oh my God.” You groaned. “Guys, stop. I can’t listen to you trying to one up each other with what you think are impressive things. I’m friends with both of you and that’s it. I’m not gonna be the yard stick in your dick measuring contest right now.”

“Yard stick?” Harley laughed. “Damn. What type of guys have you been dating?”

“Not you, obviously.” Peter mumbled.

“And why is that obvious?” Harley asked him.

“Because you’re wearing the Bella Hadid of skinny jeans right now and they don’t leave much to the imagination.” Peter shrugged. You shot him a look but he wasn’t backing down.

“I don’t even know what that means.” Harley snorted.

“It means your jeans are really tight, Keen.” You whispered to him. A smile tugged at Harley’s lips over the nickname and he took that as an opportunity to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Sorry. You know I’m not great with pop culture references. I’m more into the classics.”

“You literally just mentioned frat Harry and Niall but okay.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“Stop fighting.” You warned. “This weird little competition you have going on it stupid and unnecessary. I want you guys to be friends. Then we can all hang out.”

“We can never be friends, Sands.” Harley told you.

“Yeah. That was the second time the broken clock was right.” Peter agreed. “Because he’s Gale and I’m Peeta. He’s Jacob and I’m Edward. He’s Jesse and I’m Jake. He’s Tom Hardy and I’m Chris Pine in that movie we watched where they’re both spies and fall in love with Reese Witherspoon.”

“This Means War.” You snapped your fingers when you remember the name of the movie he was talking about.

“Hold on. I’m pretty sure you made yourself the guy who gets the girl in all those examples.” Harley pointed out.

“And I’m pretty sure you 100% understand pop culture references so I’m not sure why you lied a minute ago.” Peter replied.

“If you’re gonna keep this up I’m leaving.” You told them.

“Fine. We’ll stop. But if you’re not too busy with this web stuff, I could use your help with a song.”

“You sing?” Peter sighed in defeat. He had hoped Harley was just the water boy or something for the band he was in.

“A little.” Harley shrugged.

“He’s being modest.” You insisted. “Harley has a great voice. And he plays the guitar. You should come with me the next time his band has a show. He’s the frontman.

“Jesus Christ. Of course he’s the frontman. Do you ride a motorcycle too?” Peter asked mockingly.

“Yes, actually.” Harley replied. He had Peter beat in the cool bad boy department and they both knew it.

“Did you bring it?” You gasped and squeezed Harley’s arm.

“I did. You want to take a ride and go get some food?” He asked you.

“Yeah. Sure.” You smiled excitedly.

“You’re leaving?” Peter huffed like a little kid.

“You should come.” You replied. “You haven’t eaten yet. And we can show Harley around the neighborhood.”

“No, thank you. I need to finish this. By myself.” Peter grumbled as he stared daggers at Harley. Harley just smirked and gave Peter a shrug that said “better luck next time”.

“While you straddle a guitar players bike.” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I hope the weather stays nice.” Peter lied through an exaggerated smile.

Peter tried to stay busy in the lab for a while but he couldn’t stop thinking about what you and Harley were doing. Your conversation did little to ease his mind about your history with Harley so now all he could think of was the worst case scenario. The image of you getting whisked away on the back of Harley’s bike with your arms wrapped around his waist was playing in Peter’s mind no matter how hard he wanted to push it out. You were probably laughing at all his jokes and leaning into his side at some restaurant. To clear his head, Peter went for a walk to clear his head. When he came back, he heard the sound of a guitar coming from your bedroom. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to your room to see what was happening. When he pushed your door open, he saw you and Harley sitting on your bed while the played the guitar for you.

“Oh. Sorry. Sorry to myself that I had to hear that. Wait, what? Sorry, what did you guys say?” Peter played dumb and looked between the two of you.

“We didn’t say anything.” You laughed and knew exactly what he was doing.

“I was just playing Y/n the song I wrote for her.” Harley told him.

“You wrote her a song? Well isn’t that just peaches and cream?” Peter smiled tightly.

“Yeah. Would you like it hear it?” Harley smiled innocently and strummed a few chords.

“It’s really good.” You said. “It’s about our friendship and always being there for each other despite living in different places.”

“Sounds really magical and effervescent. Didn’t realize your cycles synced up.” Peter said quickly but you still caught what he said.

“What was that?” You asked him.

“I said I would love to hear it so bad.” Peter lied. Harley started to play the beginning of the song but slowly stopped playing and cleared his throat.

“What’s wrong, Keen?” You asked, making Peter roll his eyes.

“I’m feeling shy all the sudden.” He laughed shyly.

“Really? Because of me?” Peter asked. “I thought you’d be used to singing to men. Because that’s who I assume is your target audience giving all the pins on your guitar strap.”

“No. Because of you, actually.” He admitted to you. “I haven’t played you the second chorus yet. And it’s pretty vulnerable.”

“Well, let me hear it.”

“Yeah. Let’s hear it. Let’s all hear it.” Peter said to remind you both that he was there. Harley smiled timidly at you before starting to play the song again.

“Though we’re miles apart, you’re still in my heart. Fought with paper swords when we were kids. I wish we still did.“ He sang in a smooth voice that even Peter had to admit was good. You looked utterly in love and rested your chin on your knee as you listened to him sing to you.

“The ribbons in your hair, playing truth or dare. We grew up too soon. Cause now I miss you.” Harley continued singing and you covered your face with your hands to hide your smile. Peter couldn’t take it anymore and felt himself losing the urge to interject.

“Do you guys ever think about how mozzarella sticks-“

“Peter! Shh.” You hushed Peter and quickly returned your attention to Harley.

“Now I live in a different city. I saw online that you’re still pretty. I text and ask how you’ve been. You send back Checkers but never win. I wish things didn’t have to change. Like when you went to a school far away. You came home but we were never as we were. I love you now but I sometimes miss her.” Harley slowly stopped strumming the strings and looked at you with a shy smile. You gasped and clapped your hands for him while he blushed a deep red.

“Sorry. I know it’s cheesy.” He said. “It’s about missing how close we were when we were kids. I know we still talk but it’s not the same. We catch up every now and then but I miss when I knew about every thing about your day.”

“That’s really sweet, Keen. We should talk more. Because I miss our friendship too.” You said and squeezed his shoulder. Harley smiled and toyed with his guitar.

“Peter, what did you think of…” You trailed off when you realized Peter wasn’t there anymore. You immediately felt guilty because you weren’t sure when he left.

“Damn it.” You hissed. “I gotta go talk to him.”

“No. Let me.” Harley said and put his guitar down. He walked down the hallway until he found Peter’s room and knocked on the doorway.

“Hey.” Harley greeted. Peter looked up at him and rolled his eyes.

“If you’re here to sing to me-“

“I’m not. I want to talk to you.” Harley cut him off and went and sat on his bed. They sat in awkward silence for a moment as neither knew where to begin.

“You know, if you and I keep this rivalry up, we’re only going to hurt her.” Harley said after a minute.

“I know that.” Peter said quietly.

“Look, Peter, you seem like a nice guy. I can tell why she likes you. And she obviously really enjoys your friendship. But that’s all that’s ever gonna happen between you two. A friendship. Because I’ve been playing the long game.” Harley said earnestly. He wasn’t trying to be mean or hurt Peter, just being candid.

“So have I.” Peter told him.

“And how’s that going for you?” Harley asked with genuine curiosity.

“I’ll have you know I accidentally brushed against her boob once and she didn’t even bat an eye, so.” Peter shrugged like what he said mattered.

“Yeah?” Harley laughed. “We’ve kissed.”

Peters world came crashing down in that moment. He felt a hot rod of jealousy pierce his heart and cut him straight down the middle upon learning this.

“What?” He asked with a dry mouth.

“I was her first kiss. She didn’t tell you?”

“No. She never mentioned that.”

“Peter, I didn’t come in here to hurt you.” Harley began. “I just wanted to let you know what my intentions are. I came back to New York for her. I think it’s finally time she and I give it a go. And I think she feels it too. But I hope that you and I can put this aside and become friends. Because I genuinely think we’d get along.”

“If you and her start dating, there is no way we’re gonna be friends.” Peter said without making eye contact.

“Why not?” Harley asked, sounding a little hurt.

“Because I’m gonna kill myself.” Peter snapped, making Harley laugh in surprise. Peter couldn’t help but laugh too when he heard how ridiculous he sounded.

“I hope you don’t. Because she’d miss you. And I would too.” Harley told him. The boys looked at each other for a moment and ending up smiling. Peter felt his animosity towards Harley dissipate and realized they were just two boys who liked the same girl. And on top of that, Peter couldn’t blame him for liking you. How could he not?

“Please don’t.” Peter blurted.

“Don’t what?” Harley wondered.

“Don’t go for her. You’re so handsome. Like, in your face, Greys Anatomy doctor level handsome. You have the bike and the guitar and the floppy hair. You could go out and get any girl. I will even help you find one. But please, don’t go for her. Because I can’t compete with you. I can’t write her a song like that. I tried to write her a poem once but I was too scared to give it to her.” Peter said as he pulled out his notebook to show Harley his poem. Harley read over the poem a few times as his eyebrows knit together.

“You rhymed “go the movies” with “the shape of your boobies”. Two separate times but they’re completely different trains of thought. I’m not even sure how you did that. This stanza just says “perchance.” You can’t just say “perchance”. And this line is just a lyric from Pound the Alarm.”

“Do you see why I need you to back off?” Peter sighed and took the notebook back.

“You don’t think I feel the same way? I can’t compete with you either. You get her in a weird way that I never could. I see the way she laughs at your jokes. And relaxes around you. She and I have shared history but sometimes I wonder if we’re just rehashing the good memories and never making any new ones. If she and I met today, I don’t know if she’d like me. But you two formed an organic friendship. There’s no wondering whether or not she likes you or just likes the nostalgia. And I know she adores you. She tells me about you all the time. I know every story of every person you’ve ever saved. But she loves the regular side of you too. She once told me about this time you got your finger stuck in a park bench and she was laughing so hard during it that I didn’t even hear half the story. Her real laugh, too. The one where her head falls back and she kinda wheezes. I haven’t been able to make her laugh like that since we were kids.”

“Okay unfortunately you’re right and I actually do want to be friends with you.” Peter said after hearing Harley be vulnerable with him. Harley chuckled and Peter found himself laughing too.

“Let’s just promise that whoever she chooses, the other backs off and lets her be happy. She deserves that.” Harley said and Peter nodded in agreement.

“If it’s you, you better treat her right.” Peter told him.

“Or what? You’ll shoot me with your fart gun?” Harley joked.

“Yeah. Exactly.” Peter laughed.

“I’ll take care of her. You would too. I know that.” Harley said once their laughter died down.

“I’m glad you know. But I’m not worried. She knows where home is. Sooner or later, she’ll stop eating shrimps with the wimps and come eat lobster with the monster.” Peter shrugged and gestured to himself.

“I don’t even understand what that-“

“Me either.” Peter cut him off.

After their talk, Harley went back to your room and found you playing with his guitar. You looked up at him when he walked in and smiled.

“Hey.” He said and sat back down beside you.

“Hey. I think I still remember how to play Hey There Delilah on the guitar.” You told him and gave a bad attempt at playing the chords.

“Do you?” Harley asked skeptically and you laughed.

“I guess not. How’s Peter?” You asked and set the guitar down.

“He’s fine. I don’t think he liked my song, through.” Harley joked.

“It’s okay. I liked it.” You replied and gave him a fold smile. Harley smiled back and took your hand in his. You gulped at the contact because you felt something was coming.

“I really do miss you.” He told you.

“Miss you too, Keen. You should visit more.”

“I know. But you need to give me a really good excuse to come up here because I’m not a fan of the flight.”

“What kind of excuse?” You smiled nervously. To answer your question, Harley slipped a hand behind your head and started to pull you into a kiss. Before your lips could touch, you turned away and hung your head so that you didn’t have to see his face.

“I can’t.” You said quietly. Harley withdrew his hand and put them on his lap.

“Because of him?” He asked and you nodded your head. Harley laughed shortly and nodded as well.

“I get it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But I have to admit, I always thought you and I would just go for it one day.”

“So did I.” You admitted.

“So why can’t we just…” He trailed off and gestured between the two of you. You finally looked into his eyes and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Because I’d always wonder about him.” You answered. Harley smiled sadly but nodded in understanding.

“Can we still be friends?” He asked you.

“Are you kidding? Of course we can. This doesn’t haven’t to change anything.”

“Good. Because I don’t have anyone else to play IMessage games with.”

“I’m sending Checkers right now. And winning.” You said as you pulled out your phone.

“We’ll see.” He laughed.

Peter slept at home that night in fear of hearing the sounds of you and Harley consummating your new relationship. He put his earbuds in and listened to his sad boy tunes and cried until he fell asleep. He got up the next day with puffy eyes and got dressed to prepare himself in case you wanted to see him. Just as he was getting up to leave him bedroom, you appeared in his doorway. He jumped a little and sat back down on his bed.

“Hey. I thought I’d see you last night.” You said and folded your arms.

“Yeah, sorry. I needed to come home and clear my head.” He said without looking at you.

“Oh, okay. Is it anything you want to talk about?”

“Not particularly, no.” He replied. You have Peter a look up and down and let out an amused laugh.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re wearing skinny jeans.” You pointed out with a cheeky smile.

“Psht. No.” He scoffed. “These are regular jeans.”

“Those are absolutely your skinny jeans from when we went as Kurt and Blaine for Halloween. And you didn’t gel your hair today. Oh my God. You’re trying to look like Harley.”

“I am not.” He lied but upon looking in the mirror, he realized he had definitely channeled Harley when getting dressed.

“You are. Which I don’t understand. I like your gelled hair and dorky t shirts. Why are you trying to be someone else?” You asked as you sat beside him on his bed.

“I don’t know.” He lied again because he couldn’t tell you that he was trying to look like the boy you liked.

“Harley said he talked to you yesterday after he played his song.” You said to change the subject.

“Yeah. We talked. He mentioned that you guys kissed.” Peter admitted without looking up at you.

“Yeah. We did.” You nodded. Peter clenched his eyes shut at you confirmed it and hung his head.

“I didn’t know that.” He said quietly.

“Because it was so awkward that I never tell anyone. We were like 11 or something and acting in a very poorly rehearsed summer camp rendition of Grease. I was Sandy and he was Danny. But my dad brought all his business man friends to come see me and I got so nervous I threw up during Hopelessly Devoted.”

“Oh.” Peter couldn’t help but smile now that he knew the kiss was nothing to worry about.

“Yeah. You feel stupid now, don’t you? You got all worked up over a peck between two 11 year olds.”You teased him and poked his aide.

“I may feel stupid but at least I wasn’t a theater kid.” He mumbled.

“Hey.” You said warningly and smacked his arm.

“Sorry.” He chuckled and rubbed his arm.

“So are we okay?” You asked him and turned to face him.

“I don’t know. Is your boyfriend gonna be okay with us staying friends?” Peter asked with a roll of his eyes.

“Well I don’t know either. Since I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“You don’t?” Peter asked as hope grew in his chest.

“Peter, I don’t like Harley like that.” You insisted. “I told you that.”

“I thought you were capping.” He shrugged.

“I wasn’t.” You chuckled. “He’s not the one I like.”

“So you do like someone? Who is he? Is he bigger than me?” Peter asked with his jealously coming back with full force.

“Oh my God. You’re honestly so annoying.” You groaned and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. Peter wasn’t expecting this so he froze for a moment before kissing you back. He’d been waiting a long time for this so he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close and full enjoy the moment. When you pulled away, you both laughed shyly and rested your foreheads together.

“Was that just as friends or…” Peter trailed off and looked at you for answers.

“Uh huh. Yeah. That was a friendship kiss.” You replied sarcastically before pulling him back in.

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[eternallyungrateful]

Me to my favorite character: I love you, and you deserve the entire world 🥰😍

Also me: I'm gonna make you wish you were never born ✍️

[marionluth]

Christmas Irondad Story ✨❤️ First chapter is up 😀

You can see the deets by clicking on the link, but we're talking re-write/re-imagining of my favotite cheesy Christmas movie: All I Want For Christmas (the 1991 one). You're in for 🙌dramedy🙌 all the angst and banter and humour and fluff. Biodad AU with all three Tony kids (Harley Morgan and Peter) scheming to get divorced Peps and Tones back together. Feels and laughs throughout the story.

Excerpt below 👇

“Dude, you’re going down. My guy’s about to throw the meanest punch,” Harley taunted.

"Yeah, yeah, just you wait," Peter muttered— thumb working overtime, trying to block Harley’s jabs and figure out how to do anything but get his virtual face smashed in.

Meanwhile, Morgan was sprawled on Peter's bed, lost in her own world, flipping through one of his X-Men comics. Even though she was a bit young for some of the heavy stuff in them, she always managed to look like she was reading with the same seriousness Peter did.

"Mo, you're gonna sprain your neck like that," Peter warned, glancing over his shoulder at her, noticing how she was twisting to read a page. He figured she’d gotten the X-Men bug from him after the whole superhero gig had started; though she was probably more into the sparkly stuff than the punches, she loved the comics, and Peter loved sharing them with her.

Morgan glanced up for a moment, but didn’t say anything— just flipped another page, her eyes drifting back to scan the panels.

"I can't wait to try this in the AR console Dad’s making us," Harley said. "Can’t wait to destroy you there, too."

"Since you can’t in real life," Peter shot back, grimacing as the KO flashed over his defeated player. His character had been knocked out cold, and it was honestly a little embarrassing.

Harley leaned back, all smug confidence. "Let’s not forget I could easily take you before you spidered-up."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, you know what they say, terror. Karma is a..." He caught himself mid-sentence and glanced quickly at Morgan.

"The B word," Morgan said, her tone bored as she continued flipping through her comic— not even looking up. "You can say it, I won’t repeat it in front of Mom."

Peter smiled, shaking his head. "I know, Mo. And even if you did, we’d blame..."

"Harley," Morgan finished, her voice matching Peter’s in perfect sync.

Peter and Morgan burst into laughter, while Harley shot them both a half-hearted glare, fighting a smile. "Assholes," he muttered.

“You decided what you’ll ask from Santa, Mo?” Peter asked, his eyes glued to the screen as the next round started up.

"Yeah," Morgan answered right away, her head bobbing. Peter could see her brown locks bouncing with the movement from the corner of his eye. "I’ve known for months now," she added.

Peter glanced at her, intrigued. “Let’s hear it then. What will it be this year? Dog? Cat? Bunny?”

Harley leaned forward, eyes bulging as he got way too into the game. His tongue stuck out slightly in concentration, but his attention was now half on Morgan, curious to hear what her request was. "Come on, Mo. Hit us with it. What animal is it gonna be this year?"

Peter shook his head with a quiet chuckle, though it sounded hollow to his own ears. “The pony would like some company,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, the memory hitting him hard.

He could still picture it perfectly— Morgan, all wide-eyed and hopping up and down with excitement. The pony, its big brown eyes blinking in confusion, munching on the tree’s low-hanging branches with a bow tied around its neck. It had been absurd. Over the top. Completely out of place for a New York penthouse. The poor thing had never stood a chance in that apartment. They’d had to send it to the lake house with Mr. Larry, the caretaker, who would look after it. Morgan only got to ride it whenever they visited that place, which had been less and less often since the divorce.

He remembered how everything had seemed normal that Christmas, at least for Morgan. Their parents had pretended like nothing was wrong, even though Peter and Harley had known better. They could see the cracks forming, feel the tension— but their parents had tried to act like everything was fine. Like, Ross Geller fine.

Morgan had gotten her pony, and a few days after New Year's, their parents had sat them down and announced the divorce. It was the cruelest kind of irony. No present— not even Miss Buttercup— could have softened that blow. Peter swallowed, the weight of the memory pressing down harder now.

“I don’t want a pet,” Morgan said seriously, her voice soft. “I have something bigger to ask this Christmas.”

Harley, mid-game, froze. The controller dropped from his hands, his gaze snapping to her with exaggerated interest. “Are we talking real estate? Or a yacht, maybe? ‘Cause it did cross my mind, too—”

“I’ll ask for Mom and Dad to come back together again,” Morgan interrupted him, her voice steady, like she was announcing something simple.

The words hit Peter like a cold wave, and the room seemed to freeze. The game, the noise, everything around him was now muffled. Harley’s eyebrows shot up as Peter exchanged a glance with him, but neither of them knew how to respond.

“Mo…” Peter started, but Morgan didn’t look away from him. She just sat up, determination etched on her face. Her gaze was so intense— so serious— that it made Peter’s throat tighten.

“It’s all I want,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “All I want for Christmas is us. I want us to be a family again.” The words hung in the air and Peter swallowed hard.

“Morgan, you can’t ask Santa stuff like that,” Harley said quietly, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Why? You said he’d never get me a pony, too, but he did.” Morgan's eyes were wide, her little chin set in that way she did when she was trying to convince them of something.

Harley groaned, throwing his head back dramatically. “Because he’s a jolly dude with a beard and a sleigh drawn by magical reindeers, not a marriage counselor! Santa can’t interfere with people’s relationships and lives. It’s one thing to bring presents, and another to try and fix... people.” He hesitated, unsure how to explain something so complicated to a seven-year-old.

Peter watched his little sister’s face fall, before her expression hardened again.

“No,” Morgan deadpanned. “Santa is magic and he can do anything. And I know he’ll understand how important it is to bring Daddy back home to us. We have to be a family again.”

“M, we’re still a family, even if Mom and Dad aren’t together,” Harley said softly, his usual smirk gone, replaced by a tone laden with quiet sincerity— one that Peter had only ever heard him use with Morgan.

“I know,” Morgan replied, but her voice wavered just a little. “But we’re not all together. We see Dad less now, and Richcrap is always around. I want things back how they were.” Her voice dropped. “And that’s what I’m asking Santa, no matter what you two say. You can ask for your silly games. I’ll save our family, you’ll see.”

Peter opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, aggravated voices floated up the stairs. Harley and Morgan couldn’t make out the words, but Peter’s enhanced hearing instantly picked up the harsh tone of his parents arguing. The biting words, the sharp jabs thrown between them— his father’s voice rising in frustration, his mother’s voice clipped and cold.

Peter's stomach dropped.

"Dad’s here," he announced, with a forced smile.

[yourlocalaulibrary]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Young Avengers (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Ms. Marvel (TV 2022), The Marvels (Movie 2023), X-Men - All Media Types, Marvel (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Peter Parker & Everyone, Peter Parker/Original Character(s), Bruno Carrelli & Kamala Khan, Kate Bishop & America Chavez & Kamala Khan & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Harley Keener, Nick Fury & Peter Parker, Nick Fury & Kamala Khan, Kate Bishop & Cassie Lang, Billy Kaplan & Cassie Lang, Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan Characters: Peter Parker, Original Mutant Character(s) (X-Men), Original Male Character(s), Kamala Khan, Nick Fury, Kate Bishop, Billy Kaplan, Billy Maximoff, Teddy Altman (Marvel), America Chavez, Cassie Lang, Harley Keener, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Carol Danvers, Clint Barton, Yelena Belova, Monica Rambeau, Scott Lang, Kang the Conqueror | Nathaniel Richards, Wanda Maximoff Additional Tags: Coming of Age, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Childhood Friends, Not Beta Read, LGBTQ Character, Mental Health Issues, Young Avengers Team (Marvel), Mutual Pining, Familial Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Love Confessions, X-Men References, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop Friendship, Original Character(s), Minor Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Self-Acceptance, Touch-Starved, Found Family, so much pining its a forest, Superheroes, Coming Out, Protective Peter Parker, Puppy Love, BAMF Peter Parker, Not Canon Compliant, Peter Parker is a Mess, Bi-Curiosity Summary:

Peter Parker, still a bit of a mess from the world forgetting his identity, is given a task as Spider-Man by Nick Fury to recruit members for a new initiative. This mission pushes him to meet with various young heroes. Why? He doesn't really know, but he fears that with the lack of the usual put together Avengers, he needs to work sooner rather than later.

Meanwhile, Kamala's excitement and curiosity are at an all time high when she finds out that a fellow student at Coles Academic High School is also potentially a mutant. A high-achieving senior, volleyball and soccer star, all while unknowingly possesses the mutant gene. Kamala, eager to recruit him for her ideal superhero team, plans to approach him, despite feeling intimidated by his popularity.

- Or

Peter forms the Young Avengers, which leads to him butting heads with them and having to be their father figure all at the same time. Plus, a new kid just found out he's a mutant and Peter has to help with the whole secret identity fiasco of it all. Oh also, a world ending threat is imminent, can't forget that.

[thatsallshewrot3]

Hey there! I have so many ideas for stories and no time to write. Feel free to use any of these or let me know if you have any fic recs! 😊

I absolutely love Harley/Peter but MJ/Peter is good too! Irondad is a must! I’m a total sucker for superfamily too! 😅

-Harley and Tony are forced to watch peter be tortured

-peter struggles with depression and Tony and/or Harley are there for him

-avengers family Christmas

-peter in a coma and Harley and Tony are there

-brotherly peter to Morgan

-peter struggles with ptsd

-peter goes mute after everyone regains memory and find him after no way home (Tony alive)

-peter goes missing and Harley and Tony find him

-Harley and peter fluff

-iron dad fluff

-Harley asking Tony for permission to marry peter

-fatherly Tony and Steve

-Harley and Tony see footage of peter in the raft

-peter ptsd after the raft

-peter arrested in front of Harley and Tony

-avengers family fluff

-after the events of no way home Peter is kidnapped by hydra (maybe they want him to be like Bucky). By the time Dr Strange manages to fix the whole memory issue Peter has been at hydra for several months. Can Tony, Harley, and the team put back together a very broken Spiderman?

-peter struggles with SH and Harley and Tony are there for him

-peter deals with ptsd from Beck/far from home

-Peter deals with sensory overload and won’t come down from the ceiling

-Peter locks himself in his room after a nightmare

-Peter has dark days after far from home even after everyone remembers him

-some days Peter doesn’t want to talk or really just exist but the team is always there in their own little ways

-Peter struggles with an eating disorder

-Peter hands himself over to hydra or another villain to rescue the team

-the team witnesses Peter’s memories

[theteenthatreadsalotoffanfiction]

Just finished reading Regret, Recovery, Redemption by teaspoonbooks27

Link

Warning for Rap/Non-Con mentions

12 years ago Tony decided he couldn't be a father. Years pass and Tony learns that he actually is a half decent dad. So when he finds his first son living in squalor in Queens, taking him home seems like the best option, but just as Tony has changed and grown up, Peter has too.

[irondadfics]

Hi I'm looking for a fic with bio dad Tony. I remember in the story he was in the process of adopting Harley, but also looking for his bio son at a book store that Mary used to own. Peter eventually figures out that Tony is his biodad but keeps it a secret and gets Fury to keep Tony from finding out. Eventually Peter invites Tony to the bookstore after hours and tells him but that he needs time. Also fairly certain Peter is spiderman. Thanks!

Hi, this is for you.

[emmedoesntdomath]

i have an addiction, and that addiction is to writing harley keener with long, steve harrington-style blown out mullet once he hits the age of 19

[sarah-sandwich]

Digging this out of the archive because I re-read it decided it's the perfect fic actually. Peter's voice is dead on. He's so chatty and funny.

before of course

before things get owie ouchie hurrty oh god oh no stop stop

But then he's funny and perfect again! So anyway this is a self rec

from prompt list #1 angst 20 or general 3 ?

You guys are awesome! This one hurt me deeply so good luck (turns out I can’t do whump but I’m alright at angst)

I filled a couple of prompts with this one:

From the above anon (thank you anon!!): “Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you still love me.”

From @wayward-fairchild (Thanks Dylan!!):  "Stop interrupting me" Parkner

Content warning: child death (referenced event that took place in the past)

The Human Kind

The thing about New York City’s vigilante population is that everyone has their turf and they more or less stick to it. Everyone that is, except Spider-Man. He’s never been smart enough to impose limits on himself. Healthy boundaries? What’re those? That’s why it pisses him off so much when he shows up and tramples all over the perfectly amicable unspoken agreement he holds with the other vigilantes.

He knows it’s him right away.

Who the hell else would it be? Who else would rush ahead of him and save the day before he can get there like it’s some kind of race or competition? Who else would be so pushy? So stubborn? So infuriatingly tenacious in zipping after him, trying to corner him on his own, trying to get him to talk? He doesn’t even need to consider who would have the intellect and the access to construct a near replica of Iron Man’s armor and then fly around under the name Iron Lad without getting sued out of the sky.

Of course it’s him. It couldn’t be anyone else.

Which is why he doesn’t mess around. If little Laddie wants a competition, who better to give it to him than New York’s own Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, the original superhero vigilante. If he wants to keep up he’s going to have to work for it.

~*~

As expected, the familiar blast of thrusters cuts through the night, but it’s too late. He webs up the last criminal and ducks and rolls away from the metal arms that try to pin him. Springing to his feet, he leaps off the building and the chase begins anew for the fifth time this week—the hundredth time this month.

A ribbon of light through dark city streets, Iron Lad tears after him. He’s gotten better—faster, more agile, less hesitant about taking those hairpin turns necessary to keep up with a web-swinger. But Laddie forgets this is his city. His turf. He knows it better than he knows himself. If he wants to stand a chance at catching him he needs to learn the alleys and the tunnels, the alcoves, and the window sills at least half as well as he learns Spider-Man’s moves. Otherwise, he’ll always be one step behind.

In the shadow of an arched overhang, he smirks as Laddie curses and kicks something hard and metallic. It only takes another minute before Laddie gives up his search and rockets up into the sky.

He slips out of his hidey-hole and takes a roundabout way back to his apartment, just in case. Spidey-sense silent, he slips through his bedroom window and pulls the curtains shut before flipping on the light.

He jumps when it illuminates Miles, arms crossed, standing in the doorway.

Hand on his heart he says, “Dude, don’t do that. You scared the spit out of me.”

“Your game of tag made the news again,” he says with a frown. “I don’t get why you won’t talk to him.”

“It’s more like hide-and-seek,” he says, not bothering to address the second statement as he pulls off his mask. They’ve been through that song and dance enough times they both know it by heart and it’s lost its spark.

“That’s not how it looks on TV. Looks like a lot of chasing and not a lot of counting.”

“Yet it always ends with me hiding and him giving up on seeking so—,” He waves his hand in a ‘there you have it’ fashion then hits the spider symbol on his suit.

Miles sighs and backs out, heading for the living room as he shimmies out of his deflated suit. “Whatever, I’m not getting involved. I have enough problems.”

“Yeah, you do,” he agrees heartily, kicking his suit aside before grabbing a loose long-sleeve shirt off the floor. “How’d it go this morning with Melinda?”

“It’s Melody and horrible, thank you for asking.”

“Wanna order pizza and catch me up on Sense8 while you complain about the dating world?”

“God yes. You order and I’ll get the TV ready?”

“Sure. The usual?” He tugs on a pair of sweats and grabs his phone off the nightstand. Only one missed call tonight and it’s not from Aunt May, meaning he doesn’t have to call back. Nice.

“Yeah. What episode did you leave off on?”

“Uhh, I think Sun was in jail? Or about to be?”

“Are you serious? That’s season one stuff!”

“I don’t get a lot of downtime.”

~*~

He bends back and the crowbar clangs against a drain pipe instead of his skull.

“Hey now, that’s no way to greet an old friend. How you doin’, Robbie? I haven’t seen you around for like two months. We should catch up!”

With a yell, Robbie rears back and swings the crowbar again.

This time he catches it and pries it from his grip before nonchalantly tossing it aside. “No seriously, man. So much has happened since last time I sent you to jail. I’ve got a stalker now for one thing.”

Robbie stares longingly at the crowbar for a beat before he looks him in the eye (well, mask, but who’s going to argue semantics) and says, “There is something wrong with you.”

“Ouch, that stings coming from you. I don’t have a whole lot of friends you know.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“Ooo Robbie with the sass tonight!”

His Spidey-sense twinges in a familiar way. He stops and cocks his head, listening. Sure enough, a moment later, he hears the familiar tell-tale thrusters rapidly approaching.

“Speak of the devil,” he says, still looking up at the sky as he webs Robbie to the wall. “Well, it was nice catching up ole buddy. I’ll catch you next time.”

He snickers to himself as he jogs off, taking a bit of leap before his webbing catches and he hoists himself up and away from the street.

You’d think after so long playing this game Laddie would think to upgrade his equipment to something quieter.

He slips into a shadowy nook just as Iron Lad descends onto the street where he left Robbie.

“Which way did he go?”

His stomach flips at the familiar voice coming from inside the metal helmet but he squashes that feeling fast.

“He’s over there,” Robbie says, jerking his chin right at him, that traitor.

He flips free from the building and yanks himself into motion with a line of web as repulsors flare to life behind him.

The chase is on.

He whips around a corner smooth as a dove and springs over a billboard before dropping into a dive. Repulsors sputter behind him and he can almost hear Laddie cursing up a blue streak. He thwips out a web line mere feet above the asphalt and swings up and away. Another web to the side and he zips sideways just as his Spidey-sense twinges and Iron Lad bolts past him, unable to change direction as suddenly.

He laughs and darts down an alley, up and over a low building, through the legs of a water tower, down a narrow gap between high-rises, and weaves between street lights, stop lights, and awnings. Laddie is struggling but he hasn’t lost him yet. Time to—

Boom!

They hesitate. That was close. Maybe a few streets over, close enough to send a shudder through his web line.

They change direction as one. Laddie opens up his thrusters, flying straight and true while he slings webs as fast as he can, keeping Laddie in his peripheral, knowing he’s got the tech to guide him straight to ground zero.

After a few blocks, he doesn’t need a guide anymore. Thick black smoke pours from the in-ground windows of a  low-rise office building. No one should be in the office this time of night, letting alone messing with things that are liable to go boom. Probably a drug operation then. He hates drug dealers. They never end up in jail as often as their clientele and always pop back up like cockroaches no matter how many times he stomps them out.

The worst part is that the big operations prey on the vulnerable and the desperate, conscripting them to work in their labs and distribution centers, creating and packaging and preparing the drugs for sale. It’s almost always these people that get caught when the big busts go down while the people pulling the strings are free to start all over again.

It’s also these people that are in the most danger of being caught up in a chemical explosion if something in the production process goes wrong. Are they innocent? No. Do they deserve his help? Absolutely.

That’s why he doesn’t hesitate. He rolls to a stop in front of the doors and rips them open. Smoke pours out but otherwise, the building is dark and empty. The fire is on the lower level. If there are people down there they’re probably trapped. He has to check. He has to be sure.

Laddie lands behind him with a clang of metal on concrete. “Wait, don’t—,”

He ignores him and charges forward, slamming the door behind him in the hope that Laddie will take the hint and stay the hell out. Time is a luxury they don’t have. If this is what he thinks it is then there are going to be more explosions as the fire reaches volatile chemicals and once that happens, game over for anyone left inside. He can count on his Spidey-sense to warn him before that happens. Laddie’s only human.

He crashes into the stairwell and a wall of smoke but he doesn’t slow. He vaults over the railing and falls through the air, landing with a practiced bend to his knees a floor below. His Spidey-sense hums low at the base of his skull, a dull warning to tread carefully but not yet a scream telling him to get the hell out. The fire is roaring, unseen somewhere beyond the door but he doesn’t stop to think as he rips the door free and crouches low, trying to see under the smoke that seeps through his mask, stinging his eyes and burning his lungs.

Oh, it’s hot. It’s very hot.

He blocks it out and eases into the room. The fire is eating up the other side of the room, working through box after box of who knows what while the ceiling sags and everything in its path melts or burns.

He strains his senses, struggling to hear anyone who may be nearby over the roar of the blaze, struggling to see through the dense black smoke. One quick sweep. That’s all he needs. One quick sweep just to make sure no one is in here about to die a horrible, brutal death. He can do that.

He moves quickly, skin screaming as the air scorches him, lungs burning with heat and smoke, eyes streaming behind his mask. Debris blisters his hands as he shuffles them aside, searching for unconscious bodies through the destruction left from the explosion.

No one. No one’s here. Just him.

He bends at the waist coughing and hacking.

Time to go.

He throws a mangled chair at one of the half-windows high up on the wall and is rewarded with a satisfying shatter of glass and a single breath of fresh air before smoke chokes the opening, pouring free into the night.

The dull thrum at the base of his skull cranks up to a scream and every cell in his body tells him to go, go, go!

He leaps through the narrow window and rolls to freedom as a shock wave chases his heels. He scrambles to the dumpster for cover but that’s as far as he gets. The blast hit him, throwing him through the air headfirst against the side of the metal container.

Pain. Then nothing.

~*~

Cool night air stings his raw aching face when he comes to. He groans, every inch of him reaping the consequences of his actions. His muscles ache, his skin chafes under his suit, his lungs feel tight and his throat dry and gritty but he made it. He’s out. He’s alive. He’s—

Not wearing his mask.

He lurches upright, feeling blindly around as though he’ll find his mask lying on the ground beside him.

No, not the ground. All around him the night sky hangs overcast and dull gray, perpetually lit by the city lights far below. Far below. He blinks hard.

In front of him, Laddie stands arms crossed, feet apart, faceplate up, glaring down at him with Spider-Man’s mask in hand.

Harley.

His breath leaves him all at once like he’s been sucker-punched. Harley. He looks older, different. Somehow he forgot that he’d keep changing while he wasn’t around to not notice through the banalities of everyday living. His hair is shorter, cut in a more mature style than the golden waves he’s used to. There are lines on his face that weren’t there over a year ago and a scar on his cheekbone.

He has no idea how it got there.

“I know I should’ve learned not to doubt you by now,” Harley says lowly in that familiar southern drawl, an unfamiliar undercurrent of fury to his words, “but I think you’ve somehow gotten stupider over the past year.”

“And you’ve somehow gotten hotter,” he says, voice scratchy. “Look at us reaching new and unexpected heights. Hashtag relationship goals.”

“And what kind of relationship is that?” Harley snaps, stepping forward and uncrossing his arms to fist his metal-cased hands at his sides, strangling the stolen mask.

Irritation spikes deep within him. He levers himself to his feet, muscles crying out, and squares his shoulders. “You’re the one that wouldn’t sign the divorce papers.”

“No shit, I wouldn’t sign them,” Harley bites out through clenched teeth. “I’m not letting you go like this. If you don’t love me, say it and I’m gone. But I won’t let you run scared. I won’t.” He steps forward. “Come home, Peter.”

His chest aches but he’s starting to think it’s not from smoke damage. “There’s nothing to go back to.”

“There’s me.”

Heart in his throat, fingers tingling, he shakes his head. He can’t. How can he not understand that? He fucked up the worst he ever has, the worst he ever could. He made the ultimate mistake a parent can make and he paid the ultimate price. Harley paid the ultimate price. Because of him. Because he wasn’t fast enough or good enough or smart enough. His fault. His fault.

Fire. What a horrible way to die.

His fault.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Harley says, tone gentling.

It’s almost comforting. Even after all this time, he can read him like a book.

“What—,” He swallows, throat nearly too tight to let the words out. His eyes burn. “What kind of hero am I that I couldn’t save them?”

“The human kind,” Harley says, a statement. Simple. Concrete. Unshakable. “Come home, sweetheart. I miss you. It wasn’t your fault.”

He wipes his eyes, forgetting his smoke-stained gloves. “I don’t trust myself to have you.”

Incredulity swamps Harley’s features and he takes another step, shoulders tight with aggression. “Haven’t I done enough? What’s it going to take to prove myself to you?”

“I—,” He stumbles back only for his heel to scrape the wall ringing the edge of the roof. “You… What?”

“What did you think all of this was?” he demands, throwing his arms wide. “I’m not just being a dick. I’m—,”

“So you admit you’re being a di—,”

“Dammit, Pete! Stop interrupting me. I’ve been working my ass off for the past year trying to be good enough for you. I trained with Tony until I bled. Then I kept training until I could handle anything he threw at me and you know Tony, he’s got a lot to throw around. I made fucking armor that I can access any time night or day with a thought and you still think I’m going to break. What do I need to do? Tell me and I’ll do it. I swear I will.”

He stares. Struck dumb, heart thundering behind sore ribs, mind reeling.

Harley turns desperate in the face of his silence. “Tell me!” he snaps. “Come on! What do I need to do? Anything, just say it. Anything.”

“Don’t,” he manages to croak.

“Don’t what? Fight for you? Don’t—”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Harley exasperates.

“Like you still love me.”

Harley stares, chest heaving, nothing but distant sounds of traffic filling the silence between them.

Finally, he says, “I’ll never stop loving you. Ever.”

“You… You didn’t move on?”

“From you? Never. Don’t you get it?” he asks, stepping closer, so close now he can see the sleepless circles under his eyes, the fine lines framing his mouth, that scar on his cheek. “I’m never going to love anyone the way I love you. I’m not letting you throw us away because you’re scared. I’ll do whatever it takes. I hope you like hide and seek because I’m not giving this up.”

“Hide and seek!” he exclaims. “Exactly! Everyone keeps calling it tag but it’s obviously—,”

“Peter, if I loved you any less I would kill you.”

“Damn, that could’ve been hot.”

Harley makes a low frustrated sound in the back of his throat and his armor peels away, breaking down into particles that race into the face of the simple watch on his wrist. He���s broader in the shoulders than he remembers. More muscled in his arms and chest, his jeans tight around his thighs.

“Woah, is that all it takes to get you to undress nowadays?” he quips, unable to tear his eyes away from his legs. “Back in the day you were a classier broa—,”

He nearly swallows his tongue as his mask slips down to the rooftop and Harley takes a final step forward. He cups his jaw between his hands and looks down into his eyes as he says, “Come home, Peter.”

“I can’t,” he says, voice hoarse. Distantly, he realizes he’s trembling. “I can’t go back there. It’s too— Remembering is too—,”

“I’m not talking about the apartment,” Harley says slowly, tongue curling around each word—weighing them down with meaning to make especially sure he understands. “I’m talking about me.”

“You?”

“Come home to me. Be with me. We can take it as slow as you want. I don’t mind waiting. I just need to know where we’re headed.”

“Why?” he breathes.

“Why what?”

“Why all of it? Why for me?”

“Because you hurting makes me hurt. Because my life is infinitely brighter with you in it. Because I love you, you idiot.”

He swallows thickly and admits, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to try kids again.”

Harley’s expression tightens and for the first time, he sees the grief crouched behind his eyes, in the lines framing his mouth, in the gray hairs sneaking in over his ears.

“Me neither.”

His damaged heart cracks further. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, tears bubbling up and spilling down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

Soft warm lips press against his forehead and then Harley pulls him close, wrapping him in his arms.

He buries his face in Harley’s shoulder and clings tight, arms threaded around his waist. He feels good. He feels right. He feels like crawling into bed after a long day and finally letting down your walls—letting yourself bleed all over the space around you because you can. Because the space accepts you as you are and welcomes the mess you bring to it.

“Sometimes,” Harley says softly, “bad things happen and it’s got nothing to do with you. They just happen. You can’t fix the whole world, Pete, though I love you for trying.”

He breaks down against Harley’s shoulder, letting out all of the pent up pain and guilt and despair for the first time since the accident—the day his life crumbled at his feet as he watched the daycare go up in flames through a screen on the wrong side of the city. If he had listened to Harley and waited to start teaching until the twins started kindergarten. If he hadn’t skipped patrolling on his lunch break that day. If he’d taken the day off and let the twins stay home when they woke up with runny noses.

If

If

If

If he could go back and do it all over again he’d do it in a heartbeat, no matter the cost.

He sobs until he can’t and through it all Harley holds him close, holds him up. Entwined against the night sky, they hold each other together.

After a small eternity, when they’re both damp and raw and aching, but no longer alone, Harley murmurs into his hair, “Will you answer the damn question, Pete?”

He sniffs. “Yeah,” he says roughly. “Yeah, of course. I love you too. Always.”

“Thank the Lord,” Harley says, pulling back to hold him by the shoulders, eyes swollen and red but expression terribly fond. “You stink.”

He laughs, wet and snotty and disgusting. “Fuck, I missed you.”

“So where’s home? You need a shower and I’m starving so I imagine you’re barely keeping your feet.”

He finds a dry spot on Harley’s smoke-free shirt and wipes his face as he says, “Oh umm, I’ve been staying with Miles. He’ll be happy to see you I think.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Wow, I can’t believe you think that lowly of poor Miles. I know college kids have like, a whole vibe to them, but—,”

“You know that’s not what I—,” Harley huffs like he’s annoyed but there’s a smile on his lips and his eyes are bright. “You’re insufferable.”

He grins crookedly. “You loooove me. You’re never gonna give me up. Never gonna let me down.” He sucks in a deep breath but Harley puts his hand over his mouth.

“Don’t sing.”

He shrugs off his hand and with a smile asks, “Having regrets?”

Harley softens, eyes tracing over his face. “Never.”

[officialparknerawards]

This Year’s Nominations

Fic Nominations

Best in Fluff

“Potato Gun Mechanics” by hisfirstnamesagent

“confessions (just for you)” by blxrryfxcxd

“(A Picture Can Say) A Thousand Words” by shipskicksandgiggles

“You’re Breathtaking” by Tea_For_One_Please

“Pete, I’m Fake Drunk and Wanna Go Home” by Sarah_Sandwich

Best in Hurt/comfort

“a rainbow doesn’t always have a pot of gold” by Scarlettpin

“She’s My Sister” by Weirdness_36

“For the First Time, Eye to Eye” by Sarah_Sandwich

Best in Angst

“Tools to Fix You” by shipskicksandgiggles

“we were all just humans” by MayWilder

“i wish that i was homeward bound” by thompsborn

“rise and fall of the tides” by enzhe, MayWilder

Best in Fieldtrip

“Obligatory Field Trip Fic” by Dredfulhapiness

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

Best in Social Media AU

“A Spider on the Web” by bee bark (nachtwaechterin)

“Potato Gun Mechanics” by hisfirstnamesagent

“creeper, aw man” by impravidus

“twitter beef so salty and scalding hot that it’s a well done steak” by impravidus

Best in Post-No Way Home

“We’re Happy To Serve You” by ExcaliburLibrary

“After You” by WaywardKeener

“i wish that i was homeward bound” by thompsborn

Best in Non-canon Compliant

“Space in Your Bed” by PeachyKeener

“we were all just humans” by MayWilder

“i wish that i was homeward bound” by thompsborn

“Tennessee Whiskey” by Superstitious

“Lemon Boy” by Sarah_Sandwich

Best in College/University

“Too busy being yours” by everythingisconnected

“Or Whatever” by shipskicksandgiggles

“The Hottie Across the Hall” by coconutknightshade

“i wish that i was homeward bound” by thompsborn

Best in Superhero Harley Keener

“it’s always who is spider-man, never how is spider-man” by i_regret_thatpersonalityquiz

“saving peter” by thompsborn

“Parkner Meets Miraculous Ladybug Tropes” by impravidus

Best in Identity Reveal

“Spider At Home (ah-ah)” by the_oncoming_stormageddon

“Simply the Best” by impravidus

“As You Wish” by Superstitious

“Tennessee Whiskey” by Superstitious

Best in Future Fics

“Head in the Stars” by shipskicksandgiggles

“not done yet” by thompsborn

“no one else was in the room where it happened” by LilacsAndLilies

Best in Proposal/Marriage

“The Proposal” by impravidus

“Stuck in the Middle” by impravidus

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

Best in Tony Stark Involved

“The Hottie Across the Hall” by coconutknightshade

“Potato Gun Mechanics” by hisfirstnamesagent

“Devils in the Details (but you got a friend in me)” by PeachyKeener

“Well, this is awkward” by Saturning

Best in Soulmates

“Lobsters are mermaids to scorpions” by sammiespider

“Garden Growing” by saladbabie

“promises, promises, promises” by MayWilder

“Skin-Deep” by m4xw3ll

Art Nominations

Best in Digital Art

Harley Keener Introduced At CEO of SI by TEDDY

"Laddie & Spidey !!" by cqlementine

Unnamed by Darka

Best in Physical Art

Aka Peter and Harley won’t stop flirting by Mauvera

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

Best in Collage Art

For October Parkner Week by EmmaElsa0000

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

Creator Nominations

Best in New Writers

Weirdness_36

DiAngelosBae

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

Best in OG Writers

@official-impravidus

@thompsborn

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

Best in Artist

@peanuttoffee

@cqlementine

Will be open for last minute nominations during voting, provide link in other option

[spoodrm4n]

This is Me Trying

Chapter One: ‘Cause I Haven’t Moved in Years

Pairings: Harley Keener/Peter Parker

Summary: Peter is struggling after losing everyone closest to him-- May, Tony, Ned, and MJ. Harley is struggling with where he came from and the parts of his past he never healed from. Harley needs a roommate and Peter is getting evicted. 

Read Ch. 2 here

…

Peter Parker isn’t a bitter person– or at least he doesn’t think so. After all of the detrimental events that have taken place in his life, he’s not bitter. He refuses to believe he’s bitter. 

Sure, he’s living alone in one of the worst apartment complexes in Queens, works two jobs just to afford rent and the bare essentials of life all whilst attending Queensborough community college. In the midst of all of this, he patrols every night, only getting a couple hours of sleep a night. And it’s only been a month since he watched his aunt die and the whole world forget him— including the people he loved most. 

He misses May with everything in him. The grief bubbles up his throat more often than not and sometimes it’s all encompassing and doesn’t let him breathe. He could’ve done more– done better and saved her. Sometimes when he washes his hands he can still see her blood on them. He barely sleeps because he’s plagued by the memories of her death replaying over and over and over and over…

MJ and Ned live on without him and he’s unbelievably happy for them. Sometimes he’ll spot them walking the streets near the coffee shop MJ works at. Sometimes Peter is selfish and even though rent is late and the coffee shop is twenty minutes away, he goes there anyway, just to make sure she’s still okay. Of course she is; he’s not there to screw up her life. 

Ned is the same. He’s still Ned, but not his best friend Ned. It’s odd to think of how people change whenever you’re no longer a lasting impact on them or a constant in their life. Peter misses the sleepovers, building legos, the lab experiments, and the patrolling with Ned as his guy in the chair and it makes his heart ache. 

Another wound that Peter harbors is the death of Tony. When Peter had come back to life from the snap the first thing he had thought to do was find Tony. Nothing else had mattered in that moment. He had found him amidst the chaos of the battlefield and they had hugged and Peter was whole. Not even five minutes later he would be the shell of the person he was. The tears had dried out and nothing was left but numbness. He remembers Mr. Stark’s half-alive eyes and the way his charred skin burned his nostrils. It had been too much. He still has yet to get over that first loss and he hasn’t. He doesn’t know where to start.

He patrols more– all that he can. He saves everyone he can and stays up at night due to the ones he can’t. He gets a bit more reckless, having to stitch himself up more often that he would be willing to admit. Peter is hurting and all he knows is to push it down. Push it down as far as he can and swallow the bitterness because that’s what he isn’t. 

Life could certainly be better, but Peter believes he isn’t bitter.

Harley Keener is a bitter person. He’s grown up bitter and angry and spiteful and he’s well aware. He doesn’t hide it, either– refuses to. If there’s two things Harley is it’s most certainly bitter and honest.

He’s bitter at the fact that he remembers the sounds of his dad beating his ma. He’s bitter that sometimes he would be the one getting beaten instead. He’s bitter at the fact that his dad left when he and Abbie were just kids. He’s bitter that his ma had to pick up two jobs just to support the three of them and that he couldn’t do anything but watch for so long. He’s bitter that he was forced to grow up entirely way too soon. He’s bitter because Tony was one of the only good things in his life and just like everything else it got ripped from him.

He had moved to New York not too long after Tony’s death. Pepper had reached out to him the weekend of Tony’s funeral and had disclosed that there was a large sum stashed away for Harley. Included in that was a suit made specially for Harley as well as a lab that was to be shared with someone named Peter Parker. 

Pepper had tried to remember any mention of the boy, but she would always end up drawing a blank. It also didn’t help that the kid was practically untraceable. 

Harley had bought a nice apartment just outside of Queens in Manhattan and spent his time working through his classes at ESU, doing some contracting work for neighbors or others around the area, and helping save the citizens of New York as his secret identity of Iron Lad.

He’s bitter and angry and resentful at the world he’s grown accustomed to and he’s well aware of it. 

…

“Harley, honey, how are classes going?” Harley rushed to press the phone against his ear, almost missing what Pepper says as he walks into his apartment, kicks off his shoes, and locks the door. 

“They’re going fine, ma’am. Midterms are keeping me on my toes, though.” Harley walks further into the apartment, setting his keys down on the kitchen counter and bending down to lean his elbows against the marble. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to just call me Pepper?” He hears her sigh from across the phone line. 

“I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me plenty more.” Harley feels the ghost of a smile pull at his lips. 

“How’s the search for a roommate going? I’m sure there’s plenty of applicants.” Pepper changes the subject and Harley stands up straight now, moving to the living room and eyeing the stack of applications on the coffee table. 

“Sure are. All seem like a bunch of stuck ups, though. No one’s caught my eye.” Harley’s honest with her, picking up a few papers and tossing them back down half haphazardly. 

“That’s a shame. I know how lonely it can be living by yourself. Another person would do you good, Harley.” Pepper knows Harley is struggling, no matter how much he covers it up with jokes, hard work, or just being plain mean. Harley knows she sees right through him. 

“Yeah, I know. I’m working on it, Pepper.” He sighs, sitting down on the couch and switching the phone from his right ear to his left. The thing is though, Harley doesn’t necessarily want a roommate, but Pepper’s been on his ass for the last couple months. He knows she’s only worried about him, but Harley’s doing fine. He’s fine. 

“I know you are. I have to get going, Morgan has gymnastics and she’s been reminding me about it all day,” she laughs and Harley musters a smile. He can imagine Morgan’s pouty face and her puppy dog eyes. 

“Yes ma’am. Can’t keep Mo waiting,” Harley’s smile turns sad as he remembers how long it’s been since he’s seen the two. 

“Bye, Harley. Don’t be afraid to call.” Pepper and Harley don’t say ‘I love you’ well, they say it in different ways. They both understand, though. 

Before Harley gets a chance to respond she’s hung up and he’s left in his own silence. His shoulders slump and tilts his head back, closing his eyes and thinking about what he has to do tonight. 

He decides to go through new applications first, hoping to ease Pepper’s worry. He stands and heads for the front door, quickly finding the mailbox attached to his door. He opens it and a hefty stack of papers await him. He groans, dreading going through all of these applications. He makes his way to the dining table and stacks them neatly in front of him as he sits down. 

He’s about a third of the way through the stack when a familiar name catches his eye. “Peter Parker…” He says aloud, grabbing the paper from out of the stack and examining it carefully. 

“Nineteen years old, goes to Queensburough, works two jobs, lives alone…” Harley rattles off, eyebrows furrowing the more he reads. “Fallen on hard times and it’s become hard to afford an apartment alone.” He finishes. He re-reads the application more, observing the way that Peter had described himself and how he is studying in engineering. “Peter Parker…” Harley mumbles again. He knows that name. He makes a mental note to text Pepper about the name and ask her if that name is familiar. He’s almost certain he had heard Pepper say his name before. 

His eyes find the phone number on the top of the page and he pulls his phone out of his pocket, typing in the number. It rings once, twice, three times, then goes to voicemail. 

“This is Peter! I’m sorry I couldn’t answer your call, I’ll get back with you as soon as I can, thank you!” Harley is slightly annoyed and surprised by the cheery voice that filters through the speaker. The dial tone beeps and Harley blinks, kind of caught off guard.

“Hi Peter, I got your application for sharing the apartment and I’d like to meet with you to discuss further options. Thank ya much, Harley Keener.” He hits the end call button and sets his phone down on the table, continuing to go through the applications. 

…

Peter stops in front of the door of his apartment, getting slapped in the face with the bright yellow paper stuck to his door that reads, ‘60 day eviction notice’. He swallows down the lump in his throat as someone clears their throat from behind him. 

“Rent has been late the last four months, Mr. Parker. I’ve given you multiple chances and it just isn’t working out.” Peter turns on his heel and is met with Mr. Hall. He wears a deep frown, almost like he doesn’t want to kick Peter out, but has no choice. The guy clearly has a choice, though; he’s been doing just fine with Peter’s late rent. Someone’s probably offered the guy more money for the place that Peter doesn’t have. 

“I know and I’m so sorry Mr. Hall, I’ve been trying really hard. It’s just–” Peter’s cut off by Mr. Hall finishing his sentence.

“You work two jobs and you’re going to college? I know Mr. Parker and I’m very sorry, but I can no longer tolerate this. I’ve been patient these last few months but I have a family to feed.” Peter knows it’s bullshit, but forces a smile for him instead. 

“Okay, I understand.” Peter is short and he quickly turns around, ripping the note off his door and swallowing down the lump in his throat. He shuts the door behind him and grits his teeth, setting his backpack on the floor so he can run his hands through his hair. 

He had filled out multiple applications for people looking for roommates in the area and only one had gotten back with him so far, but the rules were entirely too strict for Peter. There was no way he was going to be able to be SpiderMan and live under the same roof as the guy. 

He threw the eviction notice onto the counter and picked his backpack up, carrying it to the small desk in the corner to finish his homework. By the time he was done, the sky had gone dark and the city streets became just a bit quieter. 

Peter breathes out, placing all of his finished work back into its assigned folder and stood, stretching out the stiffness that came with sitting in a poorly made, wooden chair. He chances a glance out of the one window in his one room apartment and decides to turn the police scanner on, getting ready for patrol and putting on his SpiderMan suit. He was itching to get out of the cramped space he called ‘home’. 

…

Harley fiddled with the hot sleeve on his coffee cup as he waited for Peter to arrive. The guy was already ten minutes late and Harley was about to finally get up and leave, accepting he’d been blown off, but the dinging of the front door bell stopped him. 

He looked up and his eyes met with a boys' brown ones. Harley immediately recognized the boy across the coffee shop as Peter, recalling the photo from his application. Peter looked impossibly better in person. His brown hair curled at the ends, but it wasn’t necessarily messy, his eyes were a deep brown, but shone in the sunlight that streamed through the many windows in the shop. He was dressed in a baggy sweater that looked like a lucky, vintage find in a thrift store and some dark-washed jeans. His tennis shoes were teetering on the edge of falling apart and he had a navy blue backpack slung over his shoulder. 

“Are you Harley?” Harley blinked and found that Peter was standing right in front of him now, eyebrows pulled together and hands nervously gripping the straps of his backpack. 

“Y-yeah, go ahead and sit down. Ya know you’re late?” Harley gestured towards the chair across from him, motioning for Peter to sit down. 

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. You know how awful it can be to get around in the city sometimes.” Peter flashed Harley an apologetic smile, sitting down in the chair and setting his bag on the floor next to him. 

“I understand. So, Peter, tell me about yourself.” Harley was intrigued by Peter. The moment he watched him walk through the door he had wanted to know more about him. 

“There’s not much to say other than what was already on my application,” Peter shrugged, fingers picking at the skin around his nails. 

“Well there wasn’t a lot about you on the application. I know you attend Queenburough and have two jobs, but that’s about it.” Harley quirks an eyebrow, elbows leaning on the table in front of him.

“I’m majoring in engineering and minoring in psychology. I live in a one room apartment that smells like a dumpster because it’s all I can afford– or was. I like photography, but I haven't had much time to get into it again, though.” Peter shrugged, eyes meeting Harley’s every now and again. 

“Got any family that lives ‘round here?” Harley leans forward as he studies Peter. The hurt that flashes across Peter’s face is only there for a split second, then it’s gone again. 

“No.” He answers simply and Harley furrows his eyebrows. It’s obvious his question had been a surprise and touchy subject for Peter.

“They live out of state?” Harley assumed Peter’s situation could be similar to his. He misses his ma and Abbie and makes a mental note to call them at some point this week. 

“Uh, no. I don’t really have any family left.” Peter shifted uncomfortably in his seat, eyes avoiding Harley’s. The pieces fell into place and Harley lets out a small ‘oh’ at Peter’s words. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Harley’s mouth is dry– he doesn’t know what else to say, really. 

“It’s alright. I think I’m slowly coming to terms with it.” Peter dares to meet Harley’s gaze. His stomach turns at the look of pity on Harley’s face. 

“Ya shouldn’t have to. Look, I’m gonna be honest– I could really use a roommate. The woman that’s practically my second mother has been on my ass about not living alone. And it seems like you could use some company yourself, so, when can you move in?” There’s a few steps Harley skips in the interviewing process, throwing caution to the wind. He’s drawn to Peter and he doesn’t particularly know why, but he wants to. 

“That’s it?” Peter’s jaw is dropped, eyebrows raised. 

“Well, yeah.” Harley shrugs. He figured Peter would be eager at his offer. 

“How much is rent?” Peter asks before he dives head first into what the blonde is offering him.

“$150 a month. I’m pretty well off, honestly, and I would really just need you to pay for utilities and groceries.” Peter has to stop his jaw from hitting the table. 

“Any rules I should know about up front?” Peter believes this is too good to be true.

“I would prefer if you kept your dirty shoes off the rug, don’t forget to clean up after yourself, and shower everyday. Don’t need ya stinkin up the place.” Harley rattles off. “If you let me do me, I’ll let ya do you. Simple as that.”

“Well of course I’m gonna shower everyday who do you think I am?” Peter rolls his eyes, arms crossing over his chest.

“I don’t know your life, Parker.” Harley pops the ‘p’ if Peters last name in a satisfying and annoying way.

“Well, what if I was a murderer? And-and you just let me move in with you on a whim?”  Peter gaped, hands motioning wildly. Harley blinked at the boy.

“Well are you?�� Peter paused, staring back at the blonde. 

“Am I a murderer?” Peter re-affirmed, voice hushed as to not alarm the other patrons enjoying their coffee.

“Yeah, are you?” Harley challenged, arms crossed against his chest. He already knew the answer.

“No! Of course not–” Harley cuts Peter off by standing, the legs of his chair scraping against the tile floor. 

“Then it’s settled. You’re moving in with me.” Harley won’t take no for an answer. 

…

It’s a week later and Peter has packed all of his life into a total of four boxes. Harley is supposed to pick him up and help him move, but now that Peter is all packed, he realizes there’s not much help to be had. 

A knock at his door snaps him out of his trance and he moves to open it. On the other side, there’s Harley who looks like he’s just seen a homeless man piss into a bottle at Central Park and throw it in the kids playground. “You weren’t joking about the dumpster smell, Pete.” Harley pushed past Peter and into the small, empty apartment. 

“I’m all packed up.” Peter says, choosing to ignore Harley’s comment. Harley places his hands on his hips and surveys the room, his eyes landing on the four boxes stacked neatly across the room. 

“Only four boxes?” Harley turns around, head tilted like a confused puppy.

Peter nods back at him, “to be fair, when I first moved here there was only one.” 

Harley can’t decide whether to laugh or frown, so he settles on pulling his lips into a thin line. “Well let’s get a move on, Parker.”

It takes them one whole trip for the both of them to take the four boxes downstairs to Harley’s car. Peter knows he should be at least a bit embarrassed, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He doesn’t think Harley cares that much either; it just makes the process a whole lot easier anyhow. 

Peter’s honestly impressed that Harley even has a car. New Yorkers don’t really own cars and when they do they have money.

“You drive?” Peter breaks the silence that has fallen over the two on the drive to Harley’s apartment.

“Good observation, sweetheart.” Harley smirks and Peter fumbles on his next words.

“No-no like— I know of maybe two people that own cars and live in the thick of New York,” Peter clarifies and Harley hums.

“Well I’m not from around here. I moved up from Tennessee for college and in Tennessee you can’t really walk anywhere too quickly. Had to learn how to drive to get around and get a half decent job– although that’s a joke when it comes to Rose Hill.” Harley explains. Peter mentally notes Harley’s accent. Makes sense.

“Do you like it here?” Peter keeps the topic focused on Harley. Harley doesn’t need to know about Peter. Peter is solely moving in with Harley because he can no longer afford to live on his own and there was no way that he could’ve passed up the deal he was offered. After losing May, MJ, and Ned he’s decided and determined to keep everyone at arms length.

“Not really, no. The city stinks all the time, people are downright rude, and traffic constantly bites you in the ass.” Harley complains, fingers drumming impatiently along the steering wheel as they sit in traffic. “What about you? Have you always lived here?” 

“Yeah. Born and raised in Queens.” Peter’s reply is short and strained, making it obvious he doesn’t want to talk about himself any further. Harley doesn’t get the memo and continues with his questions. 

“Ah, so you’re a true New Yorkian.” Harley’s fingers now drum along the wheel to the faint beat of the song that’s playing through the speakers instead of impatiently. 

“That is not a real term.” Peter points out and Harley rolls his eyes, turning for just a moment to face Peter. 

“It is now. I’ve just decided.” And Peter groans, elbow leaning on the console between them and hiding his face in his palm. 

“You shouldn’t be allowed to make decisions like that. They don’t seem like they’re good ones,” Peter looks up and is met with Harley’s right profile. He’s staring at the car ahead, just now moving forward.

“How would you know? You’ve only known me for a week.” Harley shoots back and Peter snorts. 

“Exactly. And now I’m moving in with you.” Harley is silent and Peter thinks he’s finally won the argument, but then–

“You agreed. I didn’t kidnap you; you came willingly.” Peter can’t really argue with that one.

Harley: 1, Peter: 0.

[ao3feed-irondadspiderson]

No

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61429780 by MARVELously3000 - Peter is a people pleaser and his brother, Harley, tries to help him work on it; until Peter says no to him that is. Or: People say to stick up for yourself until you actually do.   I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS IN THIS STORY Words: 1006, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Iron Man (Movies) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Peter Parker, Harley Keener, Tony Stark Relationships: Harley Keener & Peter Parker, Harley Keener & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Peter Parker is a Mess, Peter Parker is Trying His Best, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs Therapy, Tony Stark Acting as Harley Keener's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Protective Harley Keener, Harley Keener Being a Little Shit, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark is So Done, Siblings, Fights, Movie Night, Crying, Mentioned Flash Thompson, Light Angst, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Short One Shot, Short & Sweet read it on AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/61429780

[eternallyungrateful]

Listen, I'm all for Abbie being happy that Harley got out of the small town that had no benefit towards him, but I'm a sucker for jealous Abbie. Jealous that Harley gets to go live his dream while she's left behind. Yes, Harley (and Tony) sends them money, so Abbie doesn't have to get a job at 14, but it feels like a rub in her face because now her brother can afford to do what ever ge wants and she can't even get extra money to get new strings for her guitar.

She's an angsty 14 year old musician who writes songs about it!

(She will never tell Harley they are about him.)

[marionluth]

Title: The Fast (Harley & Peter) & The Furious (Tony Damn STark)

Fandom: MCU (Ironman 3-Spider-Man(Tom Holland Movies))

Summary: "Harley, seriously, shut up! I swear, just—just let me handle this, okay? And stop smiling like you're enjoying this!”

"Who, me? Enjoying being chased by cops? Nah, I'm just thrilled to be the star of my own action movie. Can't wait to see how this one ends,” Harley quipped.

“You wanna know how it ends, Harley? By Tony coming to bail us out of jail, that’s how it ends! And then we’re in for the sequel,” Peter snapped, finally biting the bullet and pulling the car to a slow stop.

“Shit,” the younger teen mumbled.

Or

Harley and Peter manage to get tangled in an illegal street race, get arrested, and call Tony to bail them out.

Status: COMPLETE

Rating: T

Pairings: GEN (minor Pepper Potts/Tony Stark)

Warnings: No warnings apply

Links: AO3

[yourlocalaulibrary]

Peter Parker Needs a Hug Fic Rec's

Ongoing Peter Parker fics that are underrated and/or up and coming that deserve some more love! They all have the 'Peter Parker Needs a Hug' tag which is one of my favorites to explore. Mix of Batfam, Peter and Avengers, and Peter + other Marvel Heroes. All fics are currently over 20k words, enjoy! Links are the underlined titles, just click and read :D

1. Faith (Now that's a Strong Word) by mtopin:

Peter and Dick seem to always be one step ahead of the other, but if they both are it just leads them to run into one another. (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker & Dick Grayson, BatFamily Members & Peter Parker, Canon Divergence) Rec Reason: The author seems to have a good grasp on the dynamic between Peter & Dick, which helps in establishing their characters

2. He's Mr. Perfectly Fine by howls_library:

Peter is trying his best to be the leader of a new team of heroes while being mentored by the former avengers. He tries to take a page out of Tony's book to do so. (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peter Parker, Steve Rogers/James "Bucky" Barnes, X-Men References) Rec Reason: Some of the best dialogue between character's I've read, the plot is plotting and Peter is a standout character when given the leader role. Plus Irondad dynamic and future Bucky & Peter friendship according to the author, which I LOVE.

3. Come Down in Circles (And Guide Me to Love) by 221BroadwayIron:

Irondad and Spiderson are taken to new heights as Tony has to decide what exactly to do with a surprising new addition after the passing of Peter's aunt. (Other Notable Tags: Kid Peter Parker, Fluff and Angst, Avengers Family, Alternate Universe) Rec Reason: Kid Peter is something I adore reading and this is the epitome of Tony Stark has a heart. It is a fluffy little fic where it takes itself lightly.

4. Echoes of a Shadow by Somnis88:

Peter escapes Hydra with amnesia. He has so much to learn. Like how to be a typical highschooler, and how to balance all that with his newfound alter ego. A great twist on the past life trope. (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Harley Keener, Peter Parker is a BAMF Puppy) Rec Reason: The whole idea of having someone lose their memories is difficult to pull off but I think that this is a great take on the trope. Plus the character's in this fic are some of my favorites to incorporate.

5. The Wrecked and The Worried (My Responsibility) by Shieldmaidenshay:

A Peter in Gotham fic that is filled with a mixture of canon and headcanon per the author. A good story to read when you are needing something new! (Other Notable Tags: Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne Has Issues) Rec Reason: While some may disagree with fanon or headcanon's I am completely fine with it when the author acknowledges that's what they are doing. This is exactly that.