Spider-Son/IronDad One-Shots

Valentines Day Wonders.. Clint?!

MJ

I sighed, once again drawing in my 'crisis' book, as I told Peter and Ned it was. In all actuality it was a different book and it was more private than my other book. It was a book almost filled with drawings of Peter and I would never show anyone. Right now, I was working on a picture of him smiling with Ned and was just finishing drawing his eyes. The bell rung and I quickly gathered my stuff, walking towards the door.
After school was a decathlon meet and I saw Peter walk into the room, a smile on his face. Him and Ned were talking and laughing as well. Decathlon was running longer than usual since we don't have a practice tomorrow and we have a meet on Saturday. Practice got out at about 6 in the afternoon and as we walked to the buses, we had to wait for Flash who went to his last period class to grab something. On the bus I sat across from Peter, listening to him and Ned talking about Star Wars and Legos. My stop came and I stood up, grabbing my bag.

"Bye MJ." Peter grinned and I hid a smile, giving him a nod.

"Later loser." I walked out of the bus and into my apartment. Alone again, great. I went to my room and dropped my bag on my bed, pulling out my homework. I started to work on it and a little while later, my stomach started to grumble. I put my half finished homework down and went to the kitchen to get a snack and drink. After I ate, I took my plate and cup to the kitchen and washed them. As I was walking back to my room, my phone went off and I checked it to see Peter was calling me. I raised an eyebrow, answering the call and labored breathing came across the line.

"Loser?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even and felt proud of myself for doing so.

"Hey MJ, so random question, but is anyone else home?"

"No, why?" I wondered, but the line went dead and I was slightly concerned, until I got in my room. There on my bed was a badly hurt Spiderman, except his mask was off and I gasped. Peter's face was covered in bruises and cuts. His body looked horrible as well. I sighed and walked to my bathroom.

"I know it must be surprising that I'm Spider-Man-" I rolled my eyes and grabbed my first aid kit, walking back to my bed where Peter lay.

"I've known about you being Spider-Man, loser. I gasped because of how you look. You look like shit dude." I felt my heart clench looking at his bruises and cuts. My cheeks reddened when my eyes glanced at the cuts on his chest and stomach, his shirt would have to come off.

"What- h-how?" Peter stuttered and then hissed when the cleaning alcohol touched his cut. I continued to clean, ignoring the stares from Peter.

"You and loser number 2 don't talk as quietly as you both think you do." I glanced at his face and smirked when I saw his horrified expression. "Don't worry Loser, no one else was paying attention to you two." He sighed, then raised his eyebrows.

"Then why do you?" I felt my cheeks heat up and turned around to the first aid kit.

"I don't. I'm just very observant." I replied and my face deepened when realizing the question I was dreading needed to be asked. "Take off your shirt." I demanded and turned to him. He raised an eyebrow and I pouted slightly. "I need to take care of the cuts underneath your suit, dumbass." I crossed my arms appearing mad and he raised his hands in mock surrender. He chuckled and grabbed the bottom of his shirt.

"I'm joking MJ. I know we're just friends." I fake laughed and ignored the stabbing pain from the words. It took everything in me not to blush or faint at the sight before me. Peter Parker had an 8 pack and was totally fit. "That bad?" He winced, the cloth touching his wound as I began cleaning it.

"No, just-" I shook my head and focused on the wound.

"MJ?" I heard confusion and concern in Peter's voice. I finished cleaning and wrapping him up before standing up. I grabbed the garbage and kit, before turning to walk back to the bathroom. Before I could take a step, a hand on my wrist stopped me. I turned to see Peter looking at me, a sheepish smile on his face and his hand rubbing the back of his neck.