Wilted (Peter Parker x Reader)

55

Peter

"Can you really take me?" Y/n asked as she rushed down the ladder after me. I pursed my lips and watched as she hopped from the second to last step and crushed the grass with her shoes.

"I don't know." I replied honestly. "It's up to Mr. Stark, really. But I'll do everything I can to convince him." I tried to force a smile but I was worried I had given her false hope. She nodded in understanding and waited for me to lead the way inside.

She was acting a little different; I couldn't tell if she was tired or upset over our fight. Her words stung, calling me a lapdog. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that she was reacting completely out of trauma. I had put her in the same situation as her nightmares. We understood it needed to be done and I don't feel like she holds it against me, but that doesn't stop the reality that she was afraid.

The fact that she openly said she loved me made me completely okay with her cruel words. We understood each other.

I opened the door as we stepped up to it, holding it open as she walked through first. She walked in a few feet but paused, looking back and waiting for me.

"He should be in the kitchen," I motioned in the direction and looked at her. She looked worried, maybe that Tony was going to yell at her for her lack of sleep or her outburst. "Are you okay?" I asked as she stayed in place. She furrowed her eyebrows and seemed to be in thought for a second before nodding. "What's wrong?"

"Just worried about what they're going to say." She kept her statement blunt and looked at the kitchen door.

"Don't worry," I smiled and urged her to keep moving. "I think he's more angry at me than at you."

"I think so too." She frowned deeper but followed me anyway. As we crept up to the door, anxiety beginning to buzz through my body, we stayed silent. I wasted no time and swung the door open, interrupting whatever they were conversing about.

Bruce looked between Y/n and I as we walked in, while Tony kept a hardened look on me. I held back the urge to clear my throat, not wanting to give off any indication that I was nervous.

"Hey," I greeted and plastered a smile on my face.

"Parker. How's the headache?" He asked with a lack of sympathy. It was clear he just wanted to remind me of my poor choice. In his defense, I shouldn't have drank his whiskey. I don't even remember going to bed. I just woke up in my bathtub.

"Getting better." I sighed and looked between the two of them. Bruce had his eyes glued on Y/n, watching her with evident concern.

"Are you okay?" He asked as she settled by my side. She stared at him, the same worried look as before smeared across her face, and nodded. Her eyebrows were furrowed as if she didn't want to talk to him. It seemed like she was still rattled from her hallucinations or something of the sorts.

"Are you sure?" I was surprised to hear Tony's voice laced with concern, completely changing tones from how he spoke to me. "No more domestic?" He raised an eyebrow and turned his attention back to me.

"Huh?" I frowned my brows and scrunched my nose in confusion. Domestic? Was he teasing us?

It was Bruce's turn to furrow his forehead caterpillars as he returned to bouncing his gaze between me and her. Tony rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, seemingly annoyed that I didn't know what was going on.

"Of course you don't remember. You drank half of my best whiskey." He spoke in a dull tone and shook his head like a disapproving father.

"You haven't told him?" Bruce exasperated to Y/n with wild eyes. She looked down and held her arm self consciously. I looked around the room and noticed the tension was much thicker than me drinking. Bruce seemed like he was holding back outrage, Tony was abnormally concerned, and Y/n was once again a hollowed out shell.