mike realized his parents didn't love each other when he was very young, and he rationalized this as all couples don't love each other. that's until he sees the way steve treats you.
c.w. none, a little angsty in the beginning but not really sad, mostly fluff, canon divergent bc i'm pretending the byers never moved to california and max is still hanging out with the party
a/n: wrote this instead of studying for finals, do not bring ship wars into the reblogs. this is me psychoanalyzing a sad teenage boy and writing self-indulgent domestic fluff
Mike Wheeler's parents do not love each other. Maybe they have some semblance of love between them, but they are not engaged in the act of love. He isn't quite sure at what age, or even exactly when, he realized this. He can't point to one exact day of his life but rather a blur of the hundreds of evenings he's spent the same way.
Sitting at the dinner table with his parents and two sisters while his mother puts out emotional fires and his father picks at his chicken then tells his mom it's over salted. Nancy has a teeth-cleaning on Saturday so she needs to move her date with Jonathan. Also how is her chemistry grade? Mrs. Sinclair recommended a great tutor. Holly's daycare closes early tomorrow so someone needs to pick her up. Does one of Mike's friends want to earn some cash babysitting? Oh and is Mike still going out with his friends after school tomorrow?
Somewhere in the middle of his mother's rambles his father will stand up muttering a "thank you," not to be polite but because it's expected, and walks over to the couch to watch TV without putting his dish in the sink. He'll watch whatever sports game is on and crack a beer while his mother cleans the kitchen.
There is no animosity or arguing between Ted and Karen, only tolerance and mutual existence.
Eventually, the idea of love becomes near repulsive to him. The idea of his parents engaging in any sort of affection makes him nauseous. It's not the childish disgust Lucas has seeing his father kiss his mother but a deep-seated discomfort. A part of him (smaller or bigger than he'd like, he's not quite sure) believes love doesn't exist. It's simply a pleasant lie society feeds one another, because the idea of being alone is terrifying.
That's until he finds himself half-asleep on Steve Harrington's living room floor.
He's been having a lot of sleepovers with his friends since the Starcourt Mall incident. None of them want to be the person who says it but they're all terrified of being alone. He's woken up quite a few times in a cold sweat with gory images in his mind, and he doubts he's the only one. Steve's parents are hardly ever in town so his house becomes the designated place for sleepovers.
The credits are rolling for whatever movie they watched, Mike can't remember because he fell asleep half-way through. His memory is hazy of what time they started but if he had to guess it's probably close to one in the morning.
Dustin is fast asleep next to him on the floor and Will's knocked out on the couch above them. They had been designing their characters for a new DND campaign, Mike's pretty sure there's pen on his cheek from falling asleep while writing the character details.
One of the other side of the couch Max is squished between El and Lucas, and he sincerely doubts she'll mind come morning. She'll probably be grateful considering she's been having some of the worst nightmares.
His eyes make his way over to the loveseat where you had been sitting with Steve. What once started as a respectable distance to avoid incurring any teasing has disappeared. You're leaning on Steve, curled into his side and he has an arm wrapped around you, rubbing your shoulders. You're trying to focus on the credits, dangerously close to dozing off while Steve stares down at you with something in his eyes Mike can't quite understand.
What he does understand is that his parents have never held each other like that.
"You sleepin' over there baby?" Steve's voice is a soft murmur, smiling as he looks down at you.
"Mmmmā¦" you let out a sleepy hum, barely acknowledging his words before burrowing deeper into his side.
Steve's smile widens in response and all of a sudden Mike's stomach twists. It's not disgust or repulsion butā¦ embarrassment. He's intruding on something special, he should just close his eyes and go back to sleep. That's what he should do, but he can't bring himself to.
"Mmmā¦. need to putā¦ the kids,ā you mumble just barely comprehensible in your sleepy stupor.
āWhat about the kids sweetheart?ā Steve whispers brushing hair out of your face.
āPut em to bedā¦.ā youāre practically in Steveās lap despite the fact the loveseat was made for two. āMike and Dustin are on the floorā¦ and clean upā¦..ā
āIāll do it,ā Steve murmurs gently and kisses your forehead, ābut first I'm putting you to bed.ā
āNoā¦..ā your brow furrows in your half conscious state.
āYes,ā Steve smooths out the crease with his thumb and kisses your cheek. Then in one smooth movement heās standing up and hoisting you into his arms, all while making sure the blanket is still tucked around you. You let out a quiet giggle when he picks you up and he notices.
"Having fun over there?" he teases quietly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. It's almost a knee-jerk reaction, he can't keep his lips off you.
"I feel special," you whisper as if you're sharing a secret and Steve's face softens even more. Mike didn't know it was possible for someone to look at another person like that.
"You are special," Steve whispers in that same secretive tone and kisses your forehead. "C'mon pretty, let's get you to bed."
Your words fade into quiet indecipherable whispers and giggles as Steve carries you to and up the staircase and Mike finds himself staring at the empty loveseat. A million thoughts swirling in his head and none at the same time. He's about to sit up when he hears Steve coming down the staircase and immediately closes his eyes, pretending to be asleep.
He doesn't know why, he could just pretend he woke up now. He doesn't have to give Steve any indication that he witnessed their intimate moment, but for some reason a part of him believe that waking up now would ruin something. Something he can't quite put words to.
The older teen shuffles around a little, turning off the TV, before coming over to where Mike and Dustin are laying on the floor. Then before Mike knows it Steve is lifting him up and placing him on the couch. He feels like a little kid being carried to bed after falling asleep on the car ride home. Though that only happened once or twice at his mother's insistence, usually his father woke him up to walk inside.
He hears some more shuffling and then the couch dips presumably with Dustin's weight. He hears the sounds of Steve cleaning up trash and crafts, carefully organizing their DND papers as to not be scolded later. Just when he thinks Steve is about to head upstairs a blanket is gently tucked around his shoulders and a damp cloth is pressed to his cheek to wipe the pen marks off.
"Wheeler?" Steve whispers gently, and his body tenses but his eyes don't open.
Noticing the tension in his body, Mike hears Steve let out a huff indicating he's smiling. He tucks the blanket a little tighter and ruffles Mike's hair.
"Go to bed kid."
Steve tucks a blanket around Dustin before flicking off all the lights and setting the heater to a comfortable temperature. Then he quietly creeps upstairs and Mike can hear the soft murmurs of you two speaking. He doesn't need to be in the room to have an idea of what's being said.
it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again. it has gotten better before and it will again.
if ive been gaming for awhile and i see its 10pm its like ah yes. still time for a few quests. but if i havent started gaming yet im like ah well perhaps its time for my nightly respite
Dude. My grandma was in the hospital for a while and now sheās in a transitional care center to build her strength back up before she can go back home, and earlier today she told me she was playing wii bowling.
if you are pro life you are a terrorist to me. i donāt believe you see women as people. i donāt give a shit if a fetus is a person or not, it has no right to leech off the body of another person. pregnancy uses up your nutrients, shatters your pelvic floor, your teeth can fall out, it effects your vision, giving birth can tear your clitoris. literally so much shit can happen. go ask your mom, sheāll tell you. if you want people going through that against their will you are a goddamn demon
The headline was still burning into her eyes: āNext Gen Power Couple?ā Y/N Stark & Harry Osborn Spark Dating Rumors After Glitzy Gala Appearanceā
Y/N sat cross-legged on her bed in a hoodie that wasnāt hers (probably Peterās, not that sheād admit it), staring at the pictures of the gala on her tablet while her friends gathered around her room like they were strategizing for war.
MJ was pacing with a juice pouch in hand, Ned was half buried in a pile of pillows on the floor, and Peterā¦ hadnāt said much. He sat in the desk chair, hands clasped between his knees, brows furrowed.
āNo offense,ā MJ said, turning sharply to point at Ned, ābut if anyone leaked Y/Nās powers, itās you. Youāre too friendly. You probably said something dumb at a Comic-Con.ā
Ned gasped. āExcuse me? I would never! Youāre the one who made her a custom Tempest Funko Pop. Maybe someone saw it.ā
Peter looked up. āGuys, come on. Nobody here leaked anything.ā
āExactly,ā Y/N said, exasperated. āWhich is why this makes no sense. How does he know? I havenāt even seen Harry Osborn since that stupid summit. And now heās back and suddenly throwing around hints and doing interviews like heās my PR manager?ā
āHeās been suspiciously smooth,ā MJ said, narrowing her eyes. āLikeā¦ media trained Bond villain smooth.ā
Just then, the door opened with a soft knock. Tony walked in with Pepper trailing behind, holding a tablet.
āI ran the Osborn kidās record,ā Tony said, tossing the tablet to Y/N. āItās clean. Squeaky. Too squeaky, honestly. Graduated from a top-tier boarding school in California back in June. Spent the summer hopping through Europe. Won two lacrosse championships, three state science fairs, a robotics thing in Tokyo, and was apparently on the cover of Forbes Next last year.ā
āHeās like evil Peter,ā Ned whispered.
āHey!ā Peter snapped, offended.
āHeās not evil,ā Pepper said thoughtfully. āJust well-groomed. And possibly trying to charm your daughter.ā
Tony muttered, āHe can try.ā
Y/N scrolled through the file on the tablet, her stomach turning. There was nothing. No red flags. No PI receipts. No spy tech orders. Nothing to explain how Harry knew.
āSo what now?ā MJ asked. āWe just wait for him to drop another cryptic one liner on the morning news?ā
āNo,ā Y/N said, eyes hard. āNext time he says something like thatā¦ Iāll make sure he tells me what he knows.ā
Peter shifted in his seat. āJustābe careful, okay?ā
Y/N didnāt answer. But her fingers sparked faintly against the edge of the tablet.
Later that evening, the group had moved to the towerās living room ā a cozy sprawl of mismatched throw pillows, glowing screens, and the half finished remnants of takeout containers. The TV played reruns of Love Island in the background, mostly ignored except for MJ who kept pausing her phone scrolling every time a dramatic sound cue hit.
Y/N was curled up on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her, hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands. Ned sat on the rug, enjoying a bag of chips. MJ was lying sideways across the armrest, casually stalking Harry Osbornās Instagram like it was a crime scene.
āOkay,ā she said, swiping up. āHis grid is too curated. Likeā¦ look at this. Who just posts a dumb picture with an artsy caption and gets 78k likes? Itās like he thinks being rich gives him permission to post dumb philosophical captions with thirst traps.āĀ
Ned leaned over. āWhatās it say?ā
She tilted the screen toward them. āāYou canāt outrun your shadow. But sometimesā¦ you can dance with it.ā And itās just a picture of him standing in front of a sunset. Shirtless.ā
Y/N snorted. āThatās kinda funny actually.ā
Then, without missing a beat: āNo but yeah, whoād post something dumb like that and get thousands of likes?ā
Both MJ and Ned turned to look at her. MJ raised an eyebrow.
Ned grinned. āyou literally captioned your last post āsay youāll remember me, standing in a nice dress, staring at the sunset ā and it was just a picture of you on the balcony before the gala.ā
Y/N blinked. āThatās different. Thatās a Taylor Swift lyric...ā
āUh-huh,ā MJ said dryly. āTell that to your twelve fan accounts.ā
āThirteen,ā Ned corrected, showing her his phone. āOne of them just posted an edit of you and Harry. Y/N Osborn era incoming.ā
Y/N groaned and sank into the cushions. āI hate the internet.ā
āYou are the internet,ā MJ said, scrolling again.
Peter tried to laugh along, but it came out awkward and quiet. His eyes flicked to the screen MJ was holding, where Harryās shirtless photo was still open. He looked away fast, jaw tightening.
Despite the jokes, the mood was still weird. Uneasy. Everyone could feel it.
Peter sat nearby, scrolling through memes but clearly not paying attention. Every time Y/N shifted, he glanced up. Like he was trying to read her thoughts.
Suddenly, her phone buzzed.
She frowned, swiping open the message ā and froze.
From an unknown number:
So whatād you think about the interview? Gotta give 'em some insight on the new it couple. š
Her stomach dropped.
āI got a textā¦ā she said slowly.
Peter perked up instantly, trying to get her attention. āYou got a text!!!ā he shouted, mimicking the Love Island alert voice with over exaggerated excitement.
Y/N side eyed him but a laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
MJ sat up straighter. āWaitāfrom who?ā
Y/N tilted her phone so they could see.
Ned leaned over the couch. āOsborn?! No way. Thatās so weirdly flirty. He totally wants you.ā
Peter frowned. āShe doesnāt want him. So who cares.ā
Y/N arched an eyebrow but didnāt comment. Instead, she reread the message, thumb hovering uncertainly over the keyboard.
āShould I reply?ā she asked, already knowing the answer.
āYES,ā MJ and Ned said in unison.
Peter looked like he was chewing glass. āI donāt thinkāā
āLetās see what his game is,ā MJ cut in. āWeāll play it smart.ā
Y/N hesitated a moment longer, then typed:
You sure know how to get attention. Was that whole thing planned?
A beat. Then another buzz.
You caught me. I figured a little chaos would get you to text me.
Ned gasped. āHeās so smooth itās infuriating.ā
Another ping.
Letās talk in person. I think weād both rather skip the small talk.
Y/N stared at the screen. āHe wants to meet.ā
MJ snatched the phone. āHeās deflecting. Heās not answering your question at all.ā
āWhich means he knows something,ā Ned said. āHeās dodging, but he wants you to follow up. Classic bait.ā
Peter crossed his arms. āYou donāt have to go. You know that, right?ā
Y/N glanced at him, something unreadable flashing in her eyes.
āYeah. But maybe I should,ā she said softly. āIf he knows somethingāanythingāI need to find out how.ā
MJ handed the phone back. āThen text him back and set it up.ā
Ned gave her a very serious nod. āY/N, this man wants you so bad. You could probably get a confession out of him and a dinner reservation in SoHo if you play your cards right.ā
Peter scoffed quietly. āYeah, because this is definitely the guy we should all trust right now.ā
Y/N ignored him. Her fingers flew over the screen as she texted back:
Fine. Tomorrow after school. Neutral ground. You pick.
The message sent. Now all they had to do was wait.
Outside, the city buzzed on ā and somewhere out there, Harry Osborn was already planning his next move.
The school day dragged, but the final bell was a sweet relief. Y/N strolled out of Midtown with Ned at her side, the late afternoon sun casting gold light across the pavement. She had her backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. Ned, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with energy.
āIām just saying,ā he said, hands waving as he walked backwards in front of her. āYouāve got this in the bag.ā
Y/N raised a brow. āYou think?ā
āUh, yeah. Y/N. Stark. Literally you. Heās already texting you flirty nonsense, making you the talk of the gala, dropping hintsāheās obsessed.ā
āI think heās just playing a game.ā
āThen play it better,ā Ned grinned. āYouāve got the power of girlhood and great sarcasm on your side. Just lean into your girly mystique or whatever. Heāll fold. Watch.ā
She laughed under her breath. āHarry Osborn doesnāt fold, Ned. He practically invented the game.ā
āRight,ā Ned said, smirking. āBut you broke his nose once. Thatās gotta count for something.ā
Y/N snorted. āPunched. Not broke.ā
āStill,ā he said. āYou live rent free in his head. Just flirt a little, ask the right questions, maybe toss your hair and āboom. Answers.ā
They were halfway down the block when a familiar voice called out behind them.
āHeyāwait up!ā
Peter jogged to catch up, winded despite the short distance, his bag thudding against his back. His hair was messy and his sweatshirt slightly askew, but he wore that easy smile sheād seen a million times.
āWhat are you two up to?ā he asked, falling into step on Y/Nās other side.
āY/N has a date,ā Ned said, far too casually. āVery mysterious.ā
Peter blinked. āWaitāwhat?ā
āItās not a date,ā Y/N cut in, rolling her eyes. āIām meeting Harry. After school. For a totally casual not-date where I try to figure out how he knows about my powers and whether or not heās been stalking me, remember?ā
Peter slowed down slightly, his expression darkening. āYouāre seriously going?ā
She gave him a look. āYeah. I said I would.ā
āTo Harry Osborn?ā
Ned frowned. āYou literally saw her text him yesterday, dude.ā
āI thought you were kidding,ā Peter said, turning back to Y/N. āWhat if itās a trap or something? You donāt know him, Y/N/N. He could be dangerous.ā
Y/N stopped walking. āYou think I canāt handle a coffee with some rich kid?ā
āI didnāt say thatāā
āYouāre acting like Iām helpless,ā she said, crossing her arms.
āIām acting like I care,ā Peter snapped, frustration creeping into his voice. āYouāre walking into a sketchy situation alone and brushing it off like itās no big deal.ā
Ned glanced between them, then slowly took a very strategic step back.
āIām not alone,ā Y/N said. āIāve got a tracker. FRIDAYās monitoring my vitals. And my dad knows where Iāll be. This is controlled.ā
Peter looked like he wanted to argue, but couldnāt find the words.
āIām not doing this to make you mad,ā she added, softer now. āI just want answers.ā
Peter ran a hand through his hair. āYouāre seriously trusting him?ā
āIām not. Thatās the point.ā
Silence stretched between them for a second. Just long enough to feel uncomfortable.
Ned clapped his hands once. āAnyway! Iāll, uhā¦ see you later! Y/N, good luck with your super spy girl mission.ā
He practically bolted across the street, leaving the tension simmering.
Peter shoved his hands in his pockets. āJustā¦ be careful, okay?ā
Y/N nodded. āI will.ā
And for a moment, she thought maybe that was it ā that heād leave it there.
But then he said quietly, āI donāt like him.ā
Harry Osborn didnāt blend in. Not here. Not anywhere, probably.
He sat at a small outdoor table on the sidewalk, black sunglasses pushed up into his hair, one leg crossed casually over the other. He looked like he was born to be in front of the cameras ā tousled, expensive, infuriatingly relaxed. There was a cup of something steaming in front of him and a second one waiting, untouched.
She slowed her steps.
Okay. Just a conversation. Get answers. Figure out what he knows. Maybe zap him a little if he gets too smug.
āHey,ā she said as she reached the table.
Harry looked up, smile curling. āI was starting to think Iād been ghosted.ā
Y/N gave him a flat look. āPlease. Iām not that polite.ā
He laughed, gesturing to the seat across from him. āRelax, Stark. No hidden cameras. No secret microphones.ā
She slid into the chair, studying him carefully. āSoā¦ this is casual Harry now? No gala lighting, no pressed suits?ā
āIām full of surprises.ā He pushed the second cup toward her. āMatcha with almond milk and a little bit of vanilla. Still your order?ā
Y/N hesitated. āHow do you know that?ā
Harry just sipped his coffee, eyes dancing. āYouād be surprised what people remember.ā
Her fingers tapped the paper cup, electricity pulsing faintly through her nerves.
āIs that what this is, then?ā she asked. ā a trip down memory lane? Or are we gonna talk about the weird, cryptic things youāve been saying since the gala?ā
Harry tilted his head, playing innocent. āWeird and cryptic is subjective.ā
āYou said I looked electric. Then you told the media we had 'chemistry' and that girls with lightning in their eyes were your type.ā She leaned forward slightly. āThat doesnāt sound subjective. That sounds intentional.ā
He smiled again, slower this time. āMaybe I just meant youāre intense. Striking. Kind of hard to look away from.ā
āRight,ā she said, unimpressed. āTry again.ā
Harry tapped a finger to his cup. āWhy donāt you tell me, Stark? Do you have lightning in your eyes?ā
Y/N stared at him for a beat too long. She could feel the buzz under her skin. Not just her power ā this electric, impossible tension between them.
He knows.
He knows, and heās not afraid of it.
āI think youāre messing with me,ā she said finally, leaning back. āYouāre bored and rich and weirdly charming and this is just some game to you.ā
Harry shrugged. āItās not a game. Not really. I justā¦ remember things. I notice things. Especially when they almost fry my retina at a tech summit.ā
Y/N blinked. āI didnāt think it was anything more than just a punch.ā
āIt was way more than just a punch. Hard to forget the girl who nearly gave me a heart attack in front of twenty MIT donors. To be fair, I was being annoying.ā
āYou said my project looked like a Fisher-Price toy.ā
āIt was bright orange.ā
āIt was custom Stark tech,ā she snapped.
āStill ugly.ā
A beat of silence.
ThenāunexpectedlyāY/N laughed. She tried to fight it, to smother it in a scowl, but it escaped anyway.
Harry grinned, victorious. āThere she is.ā
āGod, youāre the worst,ā she muttered, sipping her drink.
āYouāve said that before.ā
āAnd I meant it then, too.ā
A moment passed, lighter now. Still tense, butā¦ different. Balanced.
Harry studied her, quieter now. āYou donāt have to be so on edge, you know. Iām not trying to blackmail you. Iām not dangerous.ā
Y/N raised an eyebrow. āSee, dangerous people always say that.ā
She glanced down at her drink, then back up. āSo what do you want?ā
Harryās smile turned softer. āMaybe just a conversation with someone who doesnāt care about my last name.ā
Y/N blinked.
Thatā¦ was not what she expected.
Before she could respond, her phone buzzed.
It was Ned.
Nedš¤ : bro are you still alive?!
Nedš¤ : is he cute in daylight or was it just the suit and low lights?
She snorted and tucked her phone away.
Harry watched her, amused. āFriends keeping tabs?ā
āSomething like that.ā
He stood suddenly, brushing nonexistent lint from his jacket. āWalk with me?ā
She hesitated.
Then stood.
Just a conversation, she reminded herself.
Just information.
Even if it felt like walking into a storm.
They walked in step without speaking at first, the cool wind tugging playfully at Y/Nās hair, the city around them starting to blur into late-afternoon golden hour.
āI donāt think weāve done this since we were, likeā¦ ten,ā Y/N said eventually, glancing at him. āWalked somewhere together without security or screaming.ā
Harry hummed. āYou mean back when I was an insufferable little gremlin and you had braces and a right hook?ā
She side-eyed him. āAre you not still like that?ā
āYou got me.ā He smirked.
They turned a corner, the sidewalk opening up into the edge of a quiet park. There werenāt many people around. Just a couple kids on swings and someone walking a tiny dog in a sweater.
Harry slowed, then motioned to a bench beneath a bare tree. āSit?ā
Y/N nodded.
They dropped into the bench. Silence again. But this one wasnāt tense. It wasā¦ easy. Familiar in a weird way. Like falling into an old rhythm she didnāt realize she still remembered.
Harry leaned back, eyes flicking up at the branches above them.
āYou know,ā he said, voice quieter now, āmy dad used to talk about you all the time. You and your dad.ā
Y/N glanced over, startled. āSeriously?ā
āMm. He liked the idea of us ā the next generation. Stark and Osborn 2.0.ā He gave a half-smile. āDidnāt matter that I was in California. Heād still call me after some gala or tech expo and be like, āY/N Stark presented her own AI prototype today. Why canāt you be more like her?āā
Y/N snorted. āOh god. Thatās horrifying.ā
Harry laughed. āRight? I resented you so hard. But I alsoā¦ I donāt know. I think part of me looked up to you. You were always justā¦ blazing through everything. Untouchable.ā
She looked away. āI didnāt feel that way.ā
āYeah, well,ā Harry said, nudging her gently with his shoulder, āyou hid it well.ā
They sat there for a moment, watching the shadows grow longer.
Then Harryās tone shifted.
āThatās the thing, though,ā he said, voice lower now. āYou think youāre hiding it. But I saw it. The way your eyes shifted to a dark electric blue. The way your fingertips sparked and after the punch it all went back to normal. Like you had to let the energy out.ā
Y/N froze.
He turned to look at her, not smiling now. āIāve known for a while, Stark.ā
Her fingers curled around the edge of the bench.
āBut,ā he continued, calmly, āI havenāt told anyone. I wonāt.ā
She studied him carefully, heartbeat thudding. āWhy not?ā
He shrugged. āWhat would I gain from it? Shock value? Attention? Money? I get enough of that.ā A pause. āI figure if someoneās carrying something that heavy, the least I can do is let them carry it in peace.ā
Y/N stared.
āYou havenāt said anything.ā
Harry met her gaze evenly. āBecause itās yours. Not mine.ā
Something about that ā about him ā made her chest ache a little. Like there was something sharp and hollow buried just under his smirk.
He dropped his eyes, fiddling with the edge of his cup. āYou knowā¦ I used to have a crush on you.ā
She blinked. āWhat?ā
He grinned. āBack when we were kids. Itās true what they say ā boys are mean to girls they like. I was the worst.ā
āYou were,ā she agreed.
āDonāt worry,ā he said quickly. āThat was a long time ago. Iāve moved on.ā He glanced sideways at her. āTrust me.ā
And somehowā¦ she did. At least a little.
She let her guard drop ā not fully, but enough to exhale.
āYouāre lonely,ā she said quietly, not a question.
Harry didnāt flinch. āEveryone in my life wants something. Image, deals, status.ā He paused. āYou didnāt care when I had nothing. That stuck.ā
Y/N said nothing.
āSo,ā he added, smile tilting again, āif pretending to flirt with the Stark girl keeps the vultures off my back? If I get to piss off your little boyfriend in the process? Not a bad deal.ā
Y/N narrowed her eyes. āYouāre insufferable.ā
āObjectively,ā he agreed.
But he wasnāt joking anymore. Not fully.
She could feel it. Beneath the charm and the chaos and the little glint in his eye ā he wasnāt doing this for clout. Not really. He wanted something real. And he saw that possibility in her.
āThanks for meeting me,ā he said, standing and tossing the empty cup in the nearby trash.
As she stood too, Harry turned to face her.
āSee you soon, Stark.ā
And then, with a wink that didnāt quite reach his eyes, he walked off ā leaving Y/N standing in the middle of the quiet park, her thoughts sparking like static in the autumn air.
Y/N sat cross-legged on the rolling stool, elbows braced against the lab table, her fingers absently fiddling with a spare tools. The prints in front of her blurred into nothing ā her thoughts still stuck on the conversation at the park.
Across the lab, Tony stood at the touch display wall, flipping through security footage and diagnostics. He hadnāt said much since she told him.
āSo let me get this straight,ā he finally said, turning around. āOsborn. As in boarding school golden boy, Harry Osborn.ā
Y/N nodded once.
āHas known about you since you were 13.ā
Another nod.
Tony folded his arms, stepping closer. āHow sure are you he hasnāt told anyone?ā
āIām sure,ā Y/N said quietly.
Tony didnāt respond right away. His expression shifted ā not angry, but something taut in the lines of his face. Concern, maybe. Or disappointment.
āYou knowā¦ā he started, voice lower now. āThere was a time I thought Steve Rogers would never lie to me. That we were on the same side. That friendship meant something unbreakable.ā
Y/N looked up.
āThen Sokovia happened. And Berlin. And he didnāt even blink before choosing Barnes over everything we built.ā He paused. āPeople change. Even the ones who meant something to you once. Especially them.ā
āHarryās not Steve,ā Y/N said, more defensively than she meant to.
āNo, heās not. But thatās my point. You donāt know who he is now. He was gone for years. California, Europe, countless of trips around the world. Who knows what circles he ran in. You donāt owe him anything.ā
āIām not saying I do.ā
Tony exhaled, his voice softening. āIām just trying to protect you, honey. Youāve got this whole world ahead of you. Powers, pressure, headlines... You donāt need some rich boy wildcard stirring the pot.ā
Y/N stared at her hands, then said quietly, āOne day, the worldās gonna find out about me. I know that. But it wonāt be because of him.ā
That ā for some reason ā settled something in Tony. He didnāt like it, but he accepted it.
He let out a slow breath, then nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as he passed. āOkay. Iāll run background again, just in case. Butā¦ I trust your gut, kid.ā
āThanks, Dad.ā
As he reached the door, it slid open before he could press the panel. Peter stood there awkwardly, one hand rubbing the back of his neck.
āHey,ā he said. āUh, can I talk to Y/N for a sec?ā
Tony shot Y/N a look, then Peter an even longer one. āJust donāt blow anything up, okay?ā
āWeāll try,ā Peter said.
Tony shook his head with a small smile and disappeared down the hall.
Y/N raised an eyebrow as Peter stepped inside. āArenāt you supposed to be studying with Gwen or whatever?ā
Peter shrugged, edging closer. āItās Love Island Monday.ā
She blinked, then huffed a small laugh. āRight.ā
They stood in silence for a second. And thenā
āHowād it go?ā Peter asked.
Y/N tilted her head. āHuh?ā
āYou know. Your wholeā¦ mission. With Harry.ā
āOh.ā She looked back down at the table. āFine.ā
Peter waited.
Y/N sighed. āHe knew. Heās known for a while. He said he wouldnāt tell.ā
Peter stiffened. āHeās known?ā
She nodded. āSaid he noticedā¦ little stuff. I shocked him when I punched him. Didnāt take much for him to put two and two together.ā
Peterās jaw clenched. His thoughts were racing ā none of them particularly rational.
So Harry Osborn had been watching her? Studying her? That was weird, right? Like weird rich boy behavior. Not cool. Notā¦ normal.
Peter wasnāt jealous. He just didnāt trust the guy. Rich, charming, annoyingly perfect smile ā textbook womanizer. Yeah. Thatās what this was.
āHe said,ā Y/N added, eyes flicking down, āthat he used to have a crush on me when we were kids.ā
Peter blinked. āHe what?ā
Y/Nās eyes snapped up. āDonāt freak out.ā
āIām not freaking out,ā Peter said, voice cracking slightly. āI just didnāt know that wasā¦ on the table.ā
āItās not. It was a long time ago.ā
Peter looked at her. Really looked. āDo you really trust him?ā
She nodded once, firmly. āYes.ā
His shoulders softened, the fight draining out of him.
āOkay,ā he said. āThen I trust you. More than anyone.ā
She didnāt expect that. The way he said it ā like it was easy, like it was obvious ā it knocked the air from her chest.
Peter reached for her hands, holding them carefully between his. Their fingers tangled without thinking.
They stayed like that, suspended in the warmth of it, in everything unspoken but deeply known.
And thenā
āMiss Stark,ā FRIDAYās voice chirped through the ceiling, āLove Island has just begun. Would you like it on the common room screen?ā
Y/N didnāt look away from Peter, but a soft laugh slipped out anyway.
The glow of the Love Island intro pulsed across the room, all pink neon hearts and sparkly bikinis. Peter and Y/N sat side by side on the massive couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced between them, feet tucked under throw blankets.Ā
Peter tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth, snorting. āI donāt think Iād last a day on this show.ā
Y/N turned to him, amused. āOh yeah? Whyās that?ā
āI donāt knowā¦ cameras everywhere. Confessionals. People fighting over you. Public voting. Itās like The Hunger Games but with fake tans.ā
She laughed. āYouāre too much of a loverboy to handle it.ā
Peter grinned. āI wouldnāt like to see another guy trying to take my girl.ā
Her smile slipped for just a second.
Because he said it like a joke. But his voice had gone a little quieter, and he was still looking at her ā really looking ā and suddenly, the warmth in her chest felt dangerous.
The air shifted. For a moment, neither of them looked at the screen.
But then Peterās phone buzzed on the coffee table.
He leaned forward to check it, and Y/N forced herself to breathe again.
He smiled. Soft. Familiar.
It was a text from Gwen.
Y/N turned back to the screen, her pulse racing.
Right. Gwen. The actual girl. The one everyone saw. The one he chose.
A quiet ache started to thread through her ribs.
āShe says hi,ā Peter said gently, phone still in his hand.
Y/N didnāt look away from the screen. āTell her I say hi back.ā
He didnāt reply right away. Just looked at her for a moment longer.
Then, in that sweet, awkward Peter way, he tried to bring her back.
āI still think youād win this show,ā he said. āYouād break the fourth wall like a champ. The whole country and villaĀ would fall in love with you.ā
She laughed ā soft but real. āPlease. Iād be voted off in a week.ā
āNo,ā Peter said, almost too serious. āYouād win.ā
And the way he said it ā like it wasnāt about the show at all ā made her chest tighten.
So she just smiled. Leaned back. Let the episode play. Let herself exist in the comfort of him, even if it couldnāt mean what she secretly wished it did.
Even if her heart kept whispering: this doesnāt feel like friendship anymore.
The group had claimed the corner table in the library ā tucked between the science section and a dusty window that barely let in light. The quiet hum of other students working or whispering hung in the air, but at their table, a different kind of energy was brewing.
Peterās sneaker nudged Y/Nās under the table.
She nudged back.
Then again ā a little firmer this time. A challenge.
He bit down a grin, eyes still focused on the open physics worksheet in front of him. Y/N, pretending to read her book, raised an eyebrow without looking up, her foot sliding boldly along his ankle.
MJ groaned and dropped her pen. āOkay, Iām literally trying to do my calc homework, and you two are playing rom-com footsies. So gross.ā
Y/N laughed, not bothering to deny it. Peter went red but didnāt stop.
āSorry,ā he mumbled. āMy foot slipped.ā
āSure it did,ā MJ said dryly, hiding her smirk.
āAnyway,ā Y/N said, leaning back in her chair and twirling her pen. āI was telling you guys about Harry.ā
Dinner had come and gone. Her hair was still a little damp from her shower, and she was curled up in a hoodie, legs crossed on her bed, staring at her phone anxiously.
Finally, she tapped the contact.
HARRY OSBORN
It rang once.
Twice.
āMiss me already?ā
His voice was smug and silk-smooth through the speaker. She could practically hear the grin.
Y/N rolled her eyes, already smiling. āYou wish.ā
āStark, I always wish.ā
She scoffed. āOkay, Romeo. Relax.ā
There was a pause, then his voice again ā low and amused. āSo? To what do I owe the pleasure?ā
āI wanted to ask if youād come to my schoolās football game this Friday.ā
Another pause. Then:
āYou asking me out, Stark?ā
āIn your dreams.ā
āFrequently.ā
Y/N groaned, flopping backward on her bed. āYouāre so annoying.ā
āAnd yet, still charming.ā
She laughed in spite of herself. āMy friends want to meet you.ā
āOh, so youāre talking about me to your friends now? Isnāt that what girls do when they have a crush?ā
āGoodnight, Harry.ā
āWait, wait,ā he said through a chuckle. āIāll be there. Wouldnāt miss it.ā
She could hear the smirk in his voice. That easy charm. The unbothered confidence.
āThanks,ā she muttered.
āOf course,ā he said, softer now. āIām always down to see you outside the city lights. Maybe Iāll even bring a sign. Team Stark.ā
Y/N laughed again. And this time, it was real.
They hung up a few minutes later, and she stared at her phone for a beat before tossing it onto her comforter.
Her face burned.
He had a way. He always had. Even as a kid, he got under her skin ā smug and quick and impossible to ignore. And now? With the height and the bone structure and the voice?
She groaned, dragging a pillow over her face.
Y/N let herself fall back onto the mattress with a groan. She stared at the ceiling again, arms flopped to her sides, heart beating faster than she cared to admit.
āHeās charming,ā she muttered. āAnd smart. And objectively hot. This is doable.ā
She said it out loud like it would make it more real.
āYeah. If I tryāif I really tryāI could fall for him. Maybe I just need to give it time.ā
There was a part of her that didnāt fully believe it. The part that still turned its head every time Peter Parker laughed. But she ignored that voice.
For now, she was doing the right thing. The reasonable thing.
āWait, so whatās the plan for spirit week?ā Ned asked, balancing his tray as he flopped down into their usual corner table in the cafeteria.
āI think itās pajama day tomorrow?ā Y/N said, twirling her fork in her salad, distracted.
āThank God,ā MJ muttered. āFinally an excuse to wear slippers to calc.ā
Peter snorted. āYou donāt need an excuse. I saw you in fuzzy socks with Birkenstocks last week.ā
āThat was a fashion statement.ā
āSure,ā he said, smirking.
The group dissolved into easy laughterāeasy for everyone except Y/N, who was very aware of the empty seat beside her. Gwen's.
She hadn't even realized she was waiting for her untilā
āSorry!ā Gwenās voice rang out as she slid into the seat beside Peter, breathless and beaming. āLeadership ran long. Everyoneās freaking out about the rivalry game. The marching band wants their own half time show now and everyoneās too scared to say no to them. I swear itās like Iām the only one with a functioning brain.ā
āThatās because youāre literally running that place,ā Peter said, eyes warm as he looked at her. āYou joined, like, last week and they already treat you like youāve been there forever. Youāre amazing.ā
Y/N blinked.
Her fork paused mid-air.
He used to say stuff like that to her.
āYouāre so smart, Y/N/N.ā
āYou always make things better.ā
āOf course you fixed the generator, youāre brilliant.ā
She shook it off. Shrugged. Forced a smile. āSpeaking of high school chaos,ā she said, a little too brightly. āI talked to Harry last night.ā
All three of them turned toward her.
Ned perked up. āHarry Osborn?ā
āYeah,ā she said, stabbing her lettuce. āHeās coming to the game on Friday.ā
āNo way,ā Gwen gasped. āHarry Osborn is coming to our football game? Likeāour high school football game?ā
Peter groaned under his breath. āNot you tooā¦ā
Y/Nās stomach twisted. Her heart stuttered.
She tried not to overthink it, but of course she did.
Great. He DOES like her. Heās annoyed because sheās excited.
But before her thoughts could spiral further, Gwen leaned forward, eyes wide. āNo! I just meantā¦ like, I knew he had a thing for Y/N!ā
Y/N blinked. āWait, what?ā
āAt the gala! You two were totally giving something. And then the photos came out? And his interview?ā Gwen clapped her hands. āThat boy totally has the hots for you.ā
Ned gasped dramatically. āAre we witnessing a love triangle?ā
āOh my god, no,ā Y/N laughed, feeling her face heat up. āItās not like that. He just likes messing with people.ā
MJ was watching Peter now, like she was watching a kettle about to boil over.
āHe had a crush on you, though, right?ā she said casually. āLike, way back?ā
Y/N hesitated. āWhen we were kids.ā
āIconic,ā MJ said, grinning. āManās playing the long game.ā
Peter made a face. āOh, cāmon.ā
Everyone looked at him.
āWhat?ā Gwen asked.
Peter shrugged, tone tight. āI donāt know. Heās likeā¦ a womanizer. And rich. And bored. I just donāt think we should be, like, throwing Y/N/N at him and hoping for the best.ā
āThrowing?ā Y/N repeated, eyebrows raised.
āRelax,ā MJ said, eyes twinkling. āHeās just being protective.ā
āI am notāā Peter stopped. Rubbed the back of his neck. āItās justāheās sketchy, okay? I donāt totally trust him.ā
āJealousy is such an ugly color on you, Parker,ā Ned teased.
Peterās face flushed pink.
āIām not jealous,ā he muttered. āIām justā¦ being logical.ā
āTotally,ā MJ said, biting back a smile.
Y/N tilted her head, trying to read him. He wasnāt looking at her. Just picking at his sandwich like it had personally offended him.
And maybe he was just being logical.
Or maybe, just maybe, he didnāt like the idea of Harry Osborn showing up and charming the hell out of everyone.
Peter sat beside Y/N in the backseat, arms crossed, eyes trained on the window, but he hadnāt looked outside once.
Y/N could feel it before he even said anything.
āSo. You and Harry Osborn?ā
She didnāt even glance up from her phone. āOh my god. Are we still on this?ā
āItās a fair question.ā
She sighed. āIs it?ā
āYou guys are starting to hang out. Youāre calling him charming now. Youāre clearly texting.ā
āHe is charming,ā she said, casually. āThatās like public knowledge.ā
Peter scoffed under his breath. āRight. And thatās all it takes, huh?ā
Y/N looked up, confused. āWhatās that supposed to mean?ā
āIt meansāā He cut himself off. Shook his head. āForget it.ā
āNo, say it,ā she pushed, voice sharp. āYou clearly want to.ā
Peter turned to her, jaw clenched. āI just didn't realize you were the kind of girl who throws herself at the first guy who gives her attention.ā
Y/N blinked. Her stomach dropped.
āWow,ā she said quietly.
āI didnātāā He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. āThat came out wrong.ā
āNo, I think it came out exactly how you meant it.ā
Peter looked away. āHeās shady, Y/N/N. He shows up out of nowhere and suddenly heās flirting with you, knowing about your powers, giving interviews about youāā
āHe hasnāt told anyone,ā she snapped.
āYet.ā
She turned fully now. āWhy do you even care so much?ā
āBecause youāre my best friend.ā
āThen act like it! Stop making me feel like Iāve done something wrong by talking to someone else.ā
āIām making you feel like that?ā Peter shot back. āYouāve been hanging off his every word and Iām the bad guy?ā
She glared. āNo. Youāre acting like some jealous ex-boyfriend and itās exhausting.ā
He flinched. āIām notāā
āNot what? Not jealous? Not pissed off that another guy is wanting to spend time with me?ā
Peterās face tightened. āI just donāt trust him.ā
āYou donāt even know him!ā
āNeither do you!ā
They were both yelling now.
In the front seat, Happy shifted uncomfortably, glancing at them through the rearview mirror.
Y/N was fuming. āWhat happened to āI trust you more than anyoneā, huh? You said that like two nights ago.ā
Peterās expression hardened. āYeah, well, two nights ago you werenāt throwing yourself at Osborn like some kind of groupie.ā
She stared at him, mouth falling open.
Her voice was deadly quiet. āPull over.ā
āY/Nāā Happy tried, but she cut him off.
āI said pull over!ā
Peter looked at her like she was crazy. āWhat are you doing?ā
She leaned forward. āHappy, take him wherever he wants to go. Iām walking.ā
āCome on, donāt be dramaticāā Peter started, reaching for her arm.
āNo. You donāt get to say something like that and then tell me Iām being dramatic.ā
Peterās voice lowered, bitter. āOf course. Run away, just like you always do.ā
Y/N opened the door. āScrew you, Parker.ā
āEnjoy the walk, princess.ā
She slammed it behind her without another word.
Peter stared after her, jaw clenched, heart pounding. Happy said nothing.
The silence in the car was deafening.
Finally, Happy muttered, āYouāre an idiot.ā
āāŗāā āļø āāŗāā
Y/N stormed into the Tower, her platforms hitting the floor like gunshots. She barely registered the swipe of the doors closing behind her, too busy replaying every word Peter had just said in the car. Her face was flushed with anger, chest tight.
Tony was at the kitchen counter adding creamer to his mug, casual in a worn Black Sabbath tee, a coffee half made in front of him. He looked up as soon as he heard the elevator hiss open.
āWhoa. What the hell, kid?ā he said, dropping the knife. āHappy called. Said you made him pull over in the middle of Queens and walked home. You wanna explain that to me?ā
Y/N tossed her bag onto the island and leaned against the counter, jaw clenched. āItās fine. Iām fine. Peter and I just got into a fight.ā
Tony raised both brows, crossing his arms. āMustāve been one hell of a fight if you ditched a private driver for the sidewalks of New York in those shoes.ā
She stared at the floor. āHe was being an ass.ā
āWell, thatās new,ā Tony muttered. āWhat about?ā
āThe Harry thing.ā
Tony sighed. āRight. Osborn Junior. Not exactly my first choice for your after school activities either.ā
Y/Nās eyes narrowed. āOh my god, not you too.ā
āHey, Iām just saying.ā He shrugged. āThe kid's got more red flags than a Hydra reunion. Youāve been through a lot. Last thing you need is some spoiled rich boy with perfectly tousled hair and unresolved daddy issues screwing with your head.ā
Y/N scoffed. āIām not dating him.ā
Tony gave her a look. āYouāre defending him like you are.ā
She glared at him.
āI trust you, Y/N,ā he said, gentler now. āI do. But maybe Peterās got a point. I think heās coming from a place of concern. We donāt really know Harry. Hell, Iām not even that friendly with Norman!.ā
Y/N exhaled sharply, grabbing her bag again. āYou sound just like him.ā
āWhoaāhey, donāt do that,ā Tony said, stepping around the counter. āDonāt twist this. Iām not picking sides.ā
āYou kind of are,ā she snapped, already heading toward the door.
Tony followed her, his tone shifting. āY/N/N. Where are you going?ā
āI just need air.ā
āYou just walked twenty blocks, how much more air do you need?ā
She didnāt answer.
āHey,ā he called, more serious now. āBe careful. Alright? Youāre not bulletproof yet.ā
Y/N paused at the elevator, not turning around. āIāll be fine.ā
The doors opened.
Tony frowned, watching her go. āCall me if youāre not.ā
She didnāt respond. The doors closed, leaving him alone in the silence of the kitchen.
He stood there for a long second, running a hand down his face before muttering under his breath, āGod, sheās really mine.ā
MJ was behind the counter, apron on, cleaning a coffee machine that didnāt actually need cleaning. She kept glancing over, clearly trying not to seem obvious about how much she wanted to talk.
āMJ,ā Y/N whispered, trying to catch her attention.
MJ glanced around. āGirl, Iām on the clock,ā she mouthed dramatically, before returning to restacking biscotti with intense purpose.
Y/N sighed, leaning back in her seat.
The bell above the door jingled. Y/N didnāt look up ā not until she heard a familiar voice.
āIs this seat taken?ā
Her eyes snapped up.
Harry Osborn, in a navy half-zip and jeans, stood beside her table, holding a drink from the counter. His smile was easy. His eyes were sharp.
Y/N blinked. āWhatāhow did youā¦?ā
Harry slid into the chair across from her. āWas in the neighborhood. I love supporting small businesses.ā
Y/N raised a brow. āSo youāre not stalking me?ā
āWell,ā he started. āI mightāve contacted your friend here to ask where your sad girl hideout is.ā
Y/Nās head whipped toward the counter. MJ threw up her hands and said, āhe asked nicely!ā
āWell played, Osborn.ā Y/N muttered.
Harry grinned. āI try.ā
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes on her. āSo whatās wrong?ā
Y/N hesitated. āItās stupid.ā
Harry tilted his head. āEverythingās stupid until it isnāt. Try me.ā
She fiddled with the napkin again. āI got into a fight. With Peter.ā
Harryās brows lifted slightly. āOver me?ā
āDonāt flatter yourself.ā
āThat wasnāt a no.ā
Y/N sighed. āHe was just being... weird. And I snapped. It got bad.ā
Harry took a slow sip of his drink, watching her. āWell. Iām honored to be the catalyst for your teenage angst.ā
She snorted. āShut up.ā
He leaned back, letting the charm drop just a bit ā enough to show sincerity underneath. āSeriously though. Iām sorry.ā
Y/N glanced at him. āYou didnāt do anything.ā
āStill. Sucks that heās giving you a hard time over me. Iām just a guy who enjoys a good cappuccino and used to have a massive crush on you.ā
She blinked. āUsed to?ā
Harry smirked. āMy therapist says Iāve worked through it.ā
Y/N laughed, for real this time.
From behind the counter, MJ had her chin propped on her hand, smiling softly as she watched.
Harry reached across the table, gently nudging her fingers. āFor the record, Iām not trying to make your life harder. I just like talking to you. Even when youāre grumpy.ā
Y/N looked down at their hands, surprised at how easy it felt ā how not-weird it was, after everything.
āāŗāā āļø āāŗāā
Peter opened the front door of his apartment, confused. āNed?ā
Ned stood on the stoop, wild eyed and panting. āYouāre not gonna believe what I just saw.ā
Peter raised an eyebrow. ā...Aliens in the city?ā
āY/N,ā Ned said dramatically, āis on a date.ā
Peter blinked. ā...What?ā
āAt MJās job,ā Ned said, pushing past him into the apartment. āWith Harry Osborn.ā
Peter turned. āWaitāwhat?ā
āI saw them,ā Ned said, breathless. āThrough the window. They were, like, leaning in close. Holding hands.ā
Peter stared at him. āYouāre kidding.ā
āI wish I was,ā Ned said, tossing his backpack on the couch. āHe had the eyes. You know. The eyes.ā
Peter frowned. āWhat eyes?ā
āYou knowāflirty eyes.ā
Peter looked away, trying to keep his tone casual. āItās not a date. She wouldāve said something.ā
āWell, maybe she didnāt think she had to,ā Ned shot back. āThey looked... cozy, bro.ā
Peter's jaw tensed.
āThey werenāt making out or anything,ā Ned added quickly. āBut it was very much giving first date vibes. MJ was there too, behind the counter, and she didnāt look like she was gonna stop it.ā
Peter sat down on the edge of the couch, running a hand through his hair.
āYou okay?ā Ned asked.
Peter nodded. āYeah. I mean, she can do whatever she wants.ā
Ned eyed him. āYouāre making your āIām fine but internally combustingā face.ā
āIām not,ā Peter muttered.
Ned sat beside him. āDude. Just be honest. Do you like her?ā
Peter didnāt answer right away.
He just stared ahead, jaw tight, a million thoughts spiraling behind his eyes. Images of Harry and Y/N laughing together, holding hands, looking like they belonged in some perfectly filtered Instagram post.
Finally, Peter sighed, low and sharp.
āGod,ā he muttered. āThis sucks.ā
āShe was holding his hand, man,ā Ned said again, like he still couldnāt believe it. āLikeālike the casual kind of hand-holding. Flirty and soft. Who does that unless youāre into someone?ā
Peter didnāt respond.
Ned narrowed his eyes. ā...Did something happen?ā
Peter looked up.
āWeāā He stopped. āWe got into a fight. On the way home from school.ā
Ned blinked. āWait, what? You guys fought?ā
Peter exhaled. āYeah. In Happyās car.ā
āThatās like... couple behavior. You argued in Happyās car?ā
āShe said I didnāt trust her,ā Peter muttered.
Ned raised his eyebrows. āWell. Do you?ā
āOf course I do!ā Peter snapped. āSheās justāsheās being dumb. About Harry.ā
Ned held up a hand. āOkay. Chill. Just... tell me the truth.ā
Peter looked at him.
āDo you like her?ā Ned asked.
Peterās jaw ticked. ā...No.ā
Ned stared.
āDude,ā he said flatly. āYou were obsessed with her after Berlin. You didnāt shut up for a week. You were all like āsheās so cool, she fights like Natasha, she zaps thingsāāā
āThat was last year,ā Peter cut in, defensive.
āAnd when Mr. Stark said he was enrolling her at Midtown? I thought you were gonna faint.ā
Peter rolled his eyes. āWhatever. That doesnāt mean anything.ā
Ned folded his arms. āDidnāt you say Gwen was cute or whatever?ā
Peter leaned back, frustrated. āExactly. I like Gwen.ā
āNo, you donāt,ā Ned shot back. āYouāre doing that thing again.ā
āWhat thing?ā
āThe Liz thing. Remember when you ignored everything and asked her to homecoming even though all of us thought you were gonna ask Y/N? Youāre doing it again. Same script, different girl.ā
Peterās mouth openedāthen closed again.
āYou like Y/N,ā Ned said, matter-of-fact. āAnd not in a casual way. Like in a ruin-your-life, lose-sleep-over-it kind of way.ā
Peter rubbed his hands over his face. āSheās the first friend whoās a girl that Iāve ever had. Itās different.ā
Ned gave him a long, slow blink. Yeah, right.ā
Peter glared. āI donāt like her.ā
Ned just shrugged. āWhatever helps you sleep at night, dude.ā
The elevator dinged as Y/N and Harry stepped into the Tower.
The lights were low, city skyline glittering outside the windows. She was mid laugh at something Harry had just said when Tonyās voice rang out from the kitchen.
āWell, well, look who finally decided to come home.ā
Y/N froze like a teenager caught sneaking in past curfew. Harry, of course, didnāt flinch at all.
āMr. Stark,ā he said smoothly, offering a small salute with two fingers. āPleasure.ā
Tony looked him up and down, towel slung over his shoulder from where heād been drying a glass. āHarry Osborn.ā
āIn the flesh,ā Harry said with a grin. āBut donāt worry, youāre not my future father-in-law. As cool as thatād be.ā
Tony blinked once. āRight.ā
Harry turned to Y/N, leaning in slightly. āSee you at the game, love.ā
He winked, then sauntered toward the elevator, not a single ounce of shame in him. The doors closed behind him with a soft ding.
Y/N let out a long breath.
Tony set the glass down. āYou wanna tell me what that was?ā
She shifted her weight, arms crossed over her chest. āWe just... walked and talked. He was being nice.ā
āHe always that flirty with you?ā Tony asked casually, even though there was a sharper edge buried in there somewhere.
Y/N sighed. āHeās like that with everyone.ā
Tony gave a look that said sure he is, but didnāt press.
She walked over to the counter and leaned on it. āIām sorry. For earlier. For storming off.ā
Tony finally relaxed a little, watching her.
āI get it, kid,ā he said. āI was your age once. Believe it or not, I was also dramatic.ā
Y/N cracked a smile.
āBut weāre a team, you and me,ā Tony added. āAnd when you shut me out like that... it stings a little. Iām not against you. I just worry.ā
āI know,ā she said quietly.
āYouāre growing up. And I donāt totally love the fact that boys are a regular topic of conversation now.ā
She laughed under her breath. āMe neither, honestly.ā
There was a beat of silence.
Tony softened. āHeās sweet to you, huh?ā
Y/N nodded. āYeah.ā
āYou like him?ā
She hesitated, then shrugged. āI donāt know.ā
Tony reached over and ruffled her hair gently. āWell, just make sure whoever it is... theyāre good to you. No less than that.ā
Y/N leaned into the contact for a moment before pulling away with a quiet, āāKay.ā
āNow go shower,ā Tony said, walking away. āYou smell like teenage angst and overpriced perfume.ā
Y/N rolled her eyes, but for the first time that day, her chest didnāt feel quite as heavy.
āāŗāā āļø āāŗāā
Peter sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, fingers tugging at his hair like if he pulled hard enough, the thoughts would all fall out of his head.
It had been hours since the fight.
Heād replayed every second of it over and over. The way her voice shook. The way she looked at him like heād actually hurt her ā because he had. The way sheād slammed the car door, the sound echoing through the city like a punch to the gut.
He shouldnāt have said those things. About Harry. About her.
But she shouldnāt have gone to him.
She always used to come to Peter when she was upset. For comfort. For advice. For literally anything. And nowā
Now she went to Harry Osborn.
Peterās stomach twisted again. He hated it. Hated that she looked so okay walking away from him. Hated that she wanted to talk to Harry instead of him.
And worst of all? He got it.
Because Peter had pushed her away. Heād snapped. Again. He didnāt trust himself to keep it together anymore ā not when it came to her.
Because he knew what happened to the people Peter Parker loved.
His parents. Uncle Ben.
And now, as Spider-Man, he had more enemies than ever. More danger. More risk.
He could handle that. He could take every hit, every threat, every loss ā if it meant people like Y/N stayed safe. If it meant she stayed safe.
She was trained. Strong. Genius-level smart. But even soā¦ if anything ever happened to her because of himā
Peter closed his eyes. He wouldnāt survive it. He wouldnāt forgive himself.
His phone buzzed on his nightstand. A text from Gwen:
Ugh just finished that leadership meeting. We have a day and a half to pull off a pep rally!!
He stared at it for a second. Then, slowly, he picked up the phone and hit call.
She answered after a few rings, her voice warm and familiar. āHey, Peter. Everything okay?ā
He cleared his throat. āYeah. Yeah, I justāwanted to check in. I know youāve been busy.ā
āTell me about it,ā Gwen groaned. āYou would not believe how intense the other members are. One guy literally made a PowerPoint about the half time for the game.ā
Peter laughed under his breath. āThat sounds like something Flash would do.ā
āIt was Flash.ā
That made him laugh for real. āRight. Shouldāve guessed.ā
There was a pause. Not awkward, but not easy either.
āSoā¦ā Gwen said gently. āEverything okay? You sound kindaā¦ā
āYeah,ā Peter said too quickly. āYeah, justātired.ā
Another beat.
āHey,ā he said suddenly. āYou wanna go to the game together?ā
Gwen blinked through the phone. āUhā¦ Peter. Weāre all already going together. As a group?ā
āNo, I meanāā He scratched the back of his neck, the words foreign and stiff. āLike. Just us. As aā¦ date.ā
A moment of silence.
āOh.ā Gwenās voice brightened. āYeah. Yeah, of course! Iād love that.ā
Peter smiled. It didnāt reach his eyes. āCool.ā
They talked a few more minutes before hanging up. Gwen was sweet. Funny. She liked him. It would be easy. Safe.
And maybe thatās all he could afford to want.
Because Harry Osborn could give Y/N everything ā money, status, safety. Peter had web fluid, sarcasm, and trauma.
He leaned back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, fists clenched around his phone.
This wasnāt how it was supposed to go.
But at least this wayā¦ no one else would get hurt. Not really.
author's note: guys i was scared to post this one LMAO don't get mad at me!! i'm lowkey loving y/n and harry tho, idk he's kinda doing it for me. peter needs to learn how to communicate. but he won't. not really :p
i'm gonna post my clueless playlist later and you're all gonna listen and you're gonna love it!
ummm yeah! lmk what yall think so far (don't get mad at me)
sure, your ship is strong, but is your ship "we had to kill one of the main characters so people could stop shipping him with his best friend together" kind of strong???
the part of this Hunger Games resurgence that amuses me the most is people who only absorbed the series through pop culture finally reading the books and going āPeeta Mellark supremacy???ā āEverlark rights???ā and Iām like GIRL YES weāve been saying this for a decade
