#parkner fic

[thatshowugetthegirl]

I'm imagining a ~50k word parkner fic where Peter convinces Pepper and Tony to take a break from work which leads to them + Harley and Abigail being in Tony's vacation home for weeks.....

And then Peter and Harley fall in love.

THE END!

(im writing this but if anyone else wants to, feel free!!!)

[spoodrm4n]

Doing a bit of a re-write/revision of my Parkner fic because I got stuck on where it was going and there were some plotholes that I wanted to desperately fix. So maybe not another chapter here soon, but the existing chapters will be updated and will include new content that helps the story flow better and move forward :)

[pbpsbff]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

wow remember when i last updated this series 2 years ago??? no??? me neither

[spaceoddy]

poison me, daddy! — [5/16]

Okay, he confesses: His old resolution to keep all Harley-related thoughts pure hadn’t even lasted one day. Their time spent in Harley’s car and the fleeting encounter at school were just nails in the coffin. At least those aforementioned nails have cured Peter of his shame. When the shaggy blonde was just some smoking stranger at Liz’s party, Peter's profound infatuation with Harley somewhat worried him. With confirmation that his lust for Harley is mutual, Peter doesn’t feel pathetic. He’s touched himself every night (and day) since their last tryst, and he’s thought of Harley the entire time. Seems like tonight won’t be an exception.

god help me 'cause i'm never gonna love again...

[petersoftparker]

I love the fics where its like Harley walks into a room seeing Peter for the first time and is immediately like “wow you’re my future husband hello” while Peter is running on 48 hours of no sleep, looking like a mad scientist in the lab being like “what?”

[if-i-could-fly-h0me]

PROOF SPIDER-MAN LOVES CLICKBAIT by mauvera (ao3)

so I just finished reading this fic and it was the FUNNIEST thing ever

"There were a lot of things Peter dreaded. He dreaded the chemistry test he hadn’t studied for next week. He dreaded Mr Stark threatening to take away the Spider Suit again. He dreaded meeting a new villain who would have some wild gimmick going on that Peter wouldn’t have any good jokes ready for."

"What if aliens attack? What if there’s an entire invading army of Doombots and I’m the only one left to defend the city? What if everyone gets mind controlled all at once so they dance to mamma mia in synchrony? What if-"

“Harley! You can’t just blow up New York as a prank on Hydra!”

[lyssismagical]

2,805 miles

There’s 2,805 miles between here and home.

If he hadn’t changed his mind, there would only be 181.

Why did he change his mind? The question would probably forever haunt him, the biggest decision he’ll ever make, he’ll always wonder whether or not it was the right choice. MIT had been his dream for so long, but he chose Caltech.

MIT was a good school, one of the best, but it was also the school Tony went to. Peter didn’t mind living in Tony’s shadow, but he was worried about the possibility of added pressure or being handed things because of his relationship to one of the biggest alumni. He doesn’t want an unfair advantage like that.

But god does the 2,805 miles feel uncrossable.

MJ’s at Harvard. Ned’s at MIT. Flash is taking the year abroad with Harry. Cindy’s at NYU. Betty’s at Yale. Their group of geniuses have been split up and scattered across the country, and Peter’s alone on the west coast.

It shouldn’t be this bad, the homesickness, the ever present ache in his chest, the crushing loneliness, the bittersweet phone calls. It shouldn’t feel like this. He’s in college, for god’s sake. He should be out partying, meeting new people, studying in beautiful libraries, being a free adult. But instead, he’s curled up in bed, laptop open to the Skype screen as he counts down the minutes until Tony will call him.

He knows what Flash would say. Poor baby wants his mommy? Oh wait. And it shouldn’t sting, it wouldn’t if it weren’t true. Flash knows what lines not to cross anymore, dead mom jokes are okay, they should be fine, Peter makes them himself all the time, but it’s true, and it hurts. He wishes his mom were here. He wishes his mom and dad were still living in California, just a bus ride away, and he could go visit them for Family Dinner.

What he really wants is just a hug.

What he would give for May to give him a hug and kiss his forehead and tell him everything would be okay.

The text comes through, an apology, an excuse, something about Morgan, and the postponing of their Skype call.

And it’s okay because Tony doesn’t know. He doesn’t know how desperate Peter’s getting, how much he craves the smallest normalcy, how much he needs these conversations to function. It’s okay.

He calls MJ instead.

“Hey, I’m a bit busy, dude, can I call you back?”

“Yeah, no worries!” he says, proud of himself for keeping his voice even. And then she hangs up and he’s alone in his small, empty, unhomely dorm room with plain white walls and textbooks stacked carefully on the edge of his desk and his pile of clothes in the corner of the open closet.

It’s pathetic really.

“Fuck,” he says, out loud because it’s the only human voice he gets to hear that isn’t tinny or crackly over device speakers. “It’s going to be just fine, okay? Five weeks until Spring Break. Five weeks. You can survive five weeks.”

He sits up, stretches, counts to ten and then drags himself over to his desk.

*

“I think I’m depressed,” he tells Ned the next day.

His back aches, the pit in his stomach has just gotten darker, his head hurts, his eyes are so dry, his hands keep cramping, but at least he’s ahead in his physics class, right?

Ned kind of laughs, one that means he’s not quite sure if it’s a joke or not. “Homesick?”

“How do you know me so well?”

“You’re, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, a momma’s boy. You like familiarity and comfort and your love language is physical affection which I’m sure you haven’t been getting much of lately. Even if your family has it’s… complications, they’re still the most important thing to you so it’s hard to be so far away.”

“What the hell, dude?”

Ned laughs, realer this time. “Sorry, I’m taking a psych class.”

“Is it easier there? Being closer, I mean?”

He pauses, thinks about it, the sound of Peter’s fan, the one constant in his life, that fills the space between. “It’s not like I’ve exactly got the time or money to make the roadtrip home all the time. A hundred and eighty miles is still a hundred and eighty miles.”

“I guess.”

“All I’m saying is that you made your choice for all the right reasons, and you shouldn’t change your mind now because you think MIT will be easier. Peter Parker doesn’t give up for the easier option.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re taking a philosophy class too.”

“Speaking of, I’ve gotta go, dude, I’m sorry. Listen, take a shower, get dressed, go for a walk, eat something good. It’ll make you feel better.”

He gets a notification for five dollars sent to him by MJ with a little note buy yourself a coffee bestie.

Peter’s nothing if not a good listener, so he gets up and does as he’s told. It’s a nice, cool day in California, so he puts on a pair of jeans, a collared button-up, and a comfy sweater overtop, a classic Peter look. If MJ saw him, she’d definitely tell him that college is about experimenting and finding yourself, not sticking to what you’ve always been. Despite them not being here, he’ll always have her voice in his head. And he buys himself a coffee from the shop just around the corner of his dorm building.

Campus is big so it’ll be a long walk to go around the campus in a circle. He puts on some music and starts walking, getting lost in his head.

Smell the roses, May would say. Get out of that big head of yours and see the world around you.

And if Ned were there, he’d laugh and say, If we had brains like his, we’d never see the world either.

Peter would blush and shake his head, try to peel back the compliments but he’s learned it’s pointless with them.  

Someone touches his arm, a barely there feeling, and he looks up, a polite smile on his face. You have a resting sad face, MJ says in his head.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you.”

He focuses on the southern speaker, a young man with wild dirty blond curls, sunkissed skin, a sprinkling of freckles over his nose, a silver nose ring, dark blue eyes, and eyelashes he knows Cindy would fawn over.  He’s wearing an old black t-shirt that reads Yee and a flannel over top with a pair of even older straight-legged jeans.

“It’s alright,” Peter says automatically. You’re too nice to strangers, it’ll get you killed, MJ would say.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Just thinking about how my friend would say I’m too nice for my own good,” he replies honestly. “And too honest.”

The man laughs. “Maybe, and my sister would say I’m too forward or maybe that I’m annoying, but it’s who I am… My name’s Harley, we’re in the same chemistry class with Bailer. You didn’t show up for class yesterday and I was thinking about reaching out to offer my notes, but I chickened out. Like why would a random student notice one person missing from our class of like three hundred? It seemed creepier than helpful.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Peter says. He takes a nervous sip of his coffee. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous, but he also knows exactly why he’s so nervous. It’s just a conversation with a classmate, but Harley’s paying his full attention to him, looking at him and smiling and nose ring catching the sunlight.

“It wasn’t too complicated anyway,” Harley says. “And from what I’ve seen, you’re like a certified genius, so I don’t know how much my notes would help, but at least it’s something.”

Harley pulls open his bag adorned with colorful pins and pulls out a notebook filled to the brim with cue cards and sticky notes and paperclips a variety of colors. He flips it open and rips out the last few pages and hands it over.

“Here,” he says, smile unwavering like it’s what he was born to do. “You can give them back to me the next time you’re in class.”

“Sure, of course, thank you so much.” May would roll her eyes at his constant good manners and say you sure didn’t get that from me or your uncle.

Harley nods. “Yeah! My mom would say it’s southern hospitality or something.” He puts on a higher pitched, slower voice to imitate his mom.

Peter can’t help the smile that tugs at his mouth. They have very similar thinking patterns, apparently. “Well, thank you.”

“Hey!” Harley says, looking at Peter’s coffee. “Do you live at Pasadena? I’ve been meaning to try their coffee place, is it good?”

“It’s really good, yeah… Maybe we can study together there sometime?” Peter offers shyly. “We have that big chem midterm coming up and I haven’t found any study partners yet.”

Harley smiles a little wider. “That sounds perfect. Here, I’ll write my number on those notes so you have it and we can find a time that works.”

He pulls a red sharpie from his bag and writes his number on the chemistry notes.

Nice one, loser, didn’t think you had it in you, MJ would say. And Ned would laugh and demand pictures and the phone number so he can see for himself if Harley’s good enough. And May would ruffle his hair and try to give him a condom. Just in case! she’d say, hands lifted in defense and try to teach him about safe sex again. And Cindy would start spouting statistics about first dates and relationships. And Flash would say, how’d you score someone so out of your league, Parker?

“It’s a date,” Harley grins. “I’ll see you around, Peter. And, might I suggest, get out of that genius head of yours before you run into a tree.”

And maybe he’s not so homesick. Maybe he needs to make California his new home with people like Harley. Maybe he should reach out to Gwen from his English Literature class who he worked on a project with. And maybe he should start talking to the boy who lives across the hall from him in Pasadena, Harry, who loaned him a couple quarters to do his laundry and bakes cookies every weekend to share with the floor.

Maybe he will get out of his head and into the world.

There might be 2,805 miles miles between Caltech and Queens, but there’s only half a mile between his dorm and coffee and a world of possibilities.

Taglist:

@littlemissagrafina  @spideyspeaches @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @misskirkstark @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled @fallenstar07 @gyurolls @sdottkrames @you-did-it-sir @not-today-thx @fandomstuffff @wicked-starlight-collector @moongoddess2k4 {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[thoughts-of-a-trying-tree]

whispers

word count: 908

warning(s): references to fics i've never written, lil bit of cursing, lockdown/pandemic/quarantine, extreme Self-Indulgence and Projection™ in a bogo deal!

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

The best day of Harley Keener's college life wasn't when he finally perfected the Iron Lad suit to maneuver smoothly, allowing him to tiptoe silently with a hundred pounds of metal around him.

It wasn't during the lockdown when Peter put in his retainer and his cheeks puffed out, and it wasn't that night, when he took full advantage of how adorable he looked.

It wasn't near the end of lockdown, when they discovered that the song Something Stupid reminded them of each other.

It wasn't a few months later, when Peter, drunk and tired, told him that it would be the song they should play at their wedding.

It wasn't even the next morning, when he didn't take it back.

It was after they went back to college in person, after they had settled into classes, after they had figured out that they distracted each other too much and sat on opposite sides of the rooms, after they mapped the best routes to their classes so they could see each other as often as possible, because obviously they were that couple.

It was in class, Harley with a Spiderman mask and Peter with an Iron Lad one, when the professor pulled his mask down to cough for the third time.

When Harley, done with this shit, muttered low, "God, just fuck yourself, if you want to die so bad go for it, but don't bring us down with you," so quiet even he couldn't hear it, and he knew no one could see his mouth moving. When Peter, on the other side of the room, snorted. And turned around to look at him.

Well. Tomorrow, the games would begin.

'*'*'*'

Harley had planned to spout random passages from books they'd both read, mimic Tony, and he'd memorized a good chunk of dad jokes he found funny that night, but all those thoughts left his mind when he woke up to Peter leaving their apartment for a class they had together.

Harley threw his arm over his eyes after he left, silently grumbling that Peter didn't have to go so early when what he'd seen actually hit him.

Peter. Leaving the apartment. A red sweatshirt. Block letters on the back. His last name.

His last name.

Had Harley ever gotten up so quickly?

'*'*'*'

He speed-walked out of the apartment about half an hour later and barely remembered driving to campus. He ran in fifteen minutes before class, trying to look inconspicuous as he stared at Peter from across the room, laughing and joking with his friends. Peter, in Harley's Rose Hill Swim sweatshirt with KEENER emblazoned on the back.

Harley's plans fell out of the window faster than he could catch his breath. Peter turned to him, cheeks raising under his mask, and Harley could see the devil-sly smile in his mind. Two can play at that game. Peter could be a little shit, but Harley could match him too.

Change of plans.

'*'*'*'

Less than ten minutes after the professor had begun the lecture, Harley decided he couldn't wait any longer. He tilted his head towards Peter ever so slightly and waited until Peter stopped typing his notes.

"You look so beautiful in my clothes." Harley whispered. Peter stiffened slightly, ran a hand through his hair, and went back to typing.

Harley waited.

The next time Peter paused, "Scratch that." He stilled. "You look gorgeous all the time." Peter turned towards Harley ever so slowly and froze. He shook his head and pulled at his ear, then returned to his notes.

Pause. "I guess it's because you look like something I should own." This time Peter turned around completely and his eyes latched onto Harley's. A red blush crept up his face and Harley grinned. How long would it take until the red of his face matched the red of Harley's sweater? "Mine. With my last name on your clothes like the whole world should know." Peter whipped back to face forward again, typing at his notes, though Harley could tell from here that he wasn't typing anything comprehensive.

Pause. "Personally, I think the whole world should know. You'd feel me with you even when I'm not there and who would even come close?" At this point, it was a struggle for Harley to keep his voice low. It felt odd to speak so quietly and still see Peter reacting to him and he certainly wasn't learning anything the professor was saying.

Peter didn't go back to typing. His hands were frozen arcs over the keyboard and his chest moved with deliberate breaths. "Wow, darlin'. Didn't know I had such an effect on you." He twitched. Harley couldn't help himself anymore and broke.

"I love you. I love you. I love you."

'*'*'*'

By the time they both got back home, Harley was almost vibrating to see Peter alone. He had only just tossed his bag down when his back hit the wall. Peter's eyes were dark as sin and looking into his own.

"Did you really think you could get away with the stunt you pulled this morning?" Harley surged forward and pressed his lips to Peter's, feeling him fall pliant against him.

Pulling away, he laughed breathlessly, leaning his forehead onto Peter's. "Lost your fire so quickly?" Peter hummed by way of reply.

"Killed me, not being able to say it back all day."

"Say what, darlin'?" Harley whispered into the space between them.

"I love you too."