Marvel Oneshots

7. "You Idiot" - Peter Parker

I hummed along to the music playing in my ears, just loud enough to drown out the world around me as I tidied up my room a little bit. It was pretty messy, to be fair, and since I had some free time today, I decided to clean it up while singing and dancing around my room. 

I had some of the paint and brushes that had been splayed out on my desk in my hands when I felt a vibration through the floor, making me pause the music and listen. When I heard someone panting heavily, and judging by the sound going through my medicine cabinet, my heart leapt into my throat as I kept myself from jumping in fear.

I was supposed to be home alone. My family had all gone to some event down at the Square, but I stayed behind because I had an essay to finish.

My eyes circled around my room, trying to find a weapon I could use to defend myself against the intruder. Spotting a textbook and a fork, I grabbed the two items along with my phone before scamering to hide in my closet. I quickly dialled 9-1-1.

"911 Emergency, what's your emergency?" A woman's voice said over the phone.

"There's someone in my house. I'm home alone, I don't know what to do," I whispered quietly, panic making my words slightly squeaky.

"Do they know that you're there?"

"No, I don't think so. My family is down at the Square, I'm going to die alone." My mind began to spiral into all the 'what-ifs,' all the worst possible ways this could end as my breathing rate increased.

"Ma'am, take a deep breath, and stay hidden. Can you get out?"

I shook my head. "No. My window is jammed, and I can't get to the door without walking past them."

"Okay, then just stay where you are. I'm going to send help, okay?" She said, her voice soothing my erratically beating chest.

"Okay, okay."

"Fuck, that hurts." I heard a strangely familiar voice say before it was followed by a loud crash and more cursing. Wait, I know that voice. Peter? I slowly and shakily stood up, peering around the corner of my door and looking down the hall. I saw the face of a boy I knew very well. Well, I should hope I recognised my boyfriend. And I almost didn't recognise the red and blue colored suit that he wore. 

Mostly because it was covered in blood.

"Holy shit, Peter?" I yelled, running over to him and kneeling down on the ground next to where he had fallen.

"Y/n? I thought you weren't home." He asked, his voice thick with pain and drowsiness.

"I stayed back. What the hell happened? And you're Spider-Man?" My mind was running around in confused circles at this point.

"You were not supposed to find out like this," he said, before hissing and grabbing tightly to his side. 

"Oh my god, that's your blood? Why didn't you tell me, you idiot!" I scolded him before sprinting over to the bathroom and seeing the medicine cabinet that was now open, and a mess from his previous search. "You know my First Aid kit is under the sink," I chided and I pulled out the large bag. I was taking a bunch of medical classes at Midtown, and I liked to be prepared, so I kept a fully stocked kit with all the bells and whistles.

"I forgot," he grumbled. "Please help." He whimpered.

"No, I was going to let you bleed to death in my hallway." I said sarcastically, setting down the bag with a thud and zipping it open. "Now, what happened?"

"I got stabbed. It hurts more than usual, normally I kind of just ignore it-"

"Ignore it? Ignore a stab wound?"

"Well, I heal really fast." He shrugged, immediately hissing again in regret and mumbling a small 'ow'.

"Peter Parker, despite being a genius, you are an idiot." I scolded again.

"Maybe, but I'm you're idiot." He laughed a little bit at his own cheesy joke.

"You must have lost a lot of blood to be saying that," I said, turning my body to face his as I had all my supplies out and my gloves on. I blushed slightly, but pushed it away as I ordered, "suit, off."

"What?" His face reddened.

"I need to be able to get at the wound, so you'll have to pull the top of the suit off."

"It's one piece." He said shyly, his face becoming a even darker shade.

"Then pull in down." I replied. "I'll help you." He nodded, pressing a hidden button in the center of his chest. The material immediately loosened and fell around his waist, allowing me to see the gash over his ribs. "Holy shit, Parker. How are you still awake, let alone get here?"

"Swinging."

"You idiot."

"You mentioned that part."

I shushed him, grabbing an antiseptic swab and cleaning the wound. "Jesus, Peter. You really should be in a hospital."

"Why? I've got a nurse right here," he said, his smirk cut off when I threaded the suture needle. "Ow," he muttered as I began to stitch him up, in a very literal sense.

"I am not a nurse." I denied. Sure, I'd always had a knack for treating injuries, but I was far from an expert.

"Looks like you know what you're doing to me."

"Stop talking, you're making your skin move," I said, continuing to sew the skin back together as neatly as I could. I could tell he was trying not to flinch each time I pricked him with the needle, but he was starting to squirm. "Hold still, I'm almost done. And when I am done, you are drinking some juice and taking a nap."

"I'm not a toddler," he tried to argue, but as I glanced up at his face his lip was stuck out in a childish pout.

"Hm, okay," I hummed, giggling as he scoffed. Finally done, I tied off the thread and cut the needle loose, taping a gauze pad over the stitches and wrapping bandages around his torso. "I can't carry you, so you'll need to help me. Can you stand?" He nodded, one of his hands wrapping around his wrappings and the other over my shoulders. I lead him down the hall to my room, and set him down as gently as I could on my bed. "Wait here," I told him, even though I knew he wasn't going anywhere. I poured him a glass of orange juice and stole some clothes from my brother's room. "Here," I held out the items to him as I walked back to him. "You get changed, I'll clean up." I turned to leave before I felt a gentle hand touch mine.

"Thank you, Y/n. For everything." Peter said, a small smile on his face.

My heart, finally beginning to stop its incessant wild rhythm, melted at his words. "Of course. Drink your juice, change your clothes, then sleep. Understood?"

His smile widened. "Yes, ma'am." He chuckled, as much as he could.

I laughed. "Good. And we will be talking about your chosen profession, Parker," I threatened, still smiling. I closed the door behind me, looking at the blood slicking up the floor. "Oh, Peter, you idiot. What am I going to do with you?" I shook my head, then buckled down, grabbing hydrogen peroxide and some paper towels.

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