Spiderson Oneshots

Okay--Stark!Reader and Peter

Warnings: Character death, self-deprecation, long, and Cap's special language warning.

Pairing: Peter x Stark!Reader

Quick note: The reader has the power of being average at everything. I liked the idea from a post I found and enjoyed putting it in this. 

Okay is an odd word. It doesn't really have an exact definition. It's like the word normal. What is normal when everyone is different? What is okay when everyone is different? My okay is different from everyone else's. And that makes for some pretty shitty comfort techniques. Because no one will ever know how exactly I feel. So what is the point exactly? Someone could say to live for someone else. But why would they want me to live? No one likes me anyway. Someone could say to live for me. But I hate myself, so what reason could I give myself to keep going? Someone could say to live for an object. But why would the object care? Someone could say to live until I'm okay. I always wonder what kind of okay they mean. Is it the okay where they can't see it anymore, the one where I just cut them out of my life so they don't care, or the one where I'm actually okay? My guess is the former. The thing is, no one really cares how okay you are. As long as it doesn't affect them, everything is 'okay.' I can hide. That's easy. I've hidden my whole life. But to hold in every word that I want to say hurts. The words are like barbed wire, coiling larger and bigger until I can't help but be hurt. It's okay to know that they'll stop asking one day, and I won't feel that pain anymore.

"Hey, Peter, how are you doing?" Y/N asked. I was in the Stark Tower, in my room. We all had our own rooms at this point. Harley, Nebula, and I were all basically family at this point. 'Family' as in we were one in needing comfort over losing the person who'd been like a father to us. Y/N, Pepper, and Morgan had all been very happy for the extra comfort. We all needed each other. It wasn't uncommon here to hear sobs and screams. We'd all gotten better at comforting each other. But being comforted was still a far way off. Nebula, Harley, and I did our best to keep the Starks together and help them. It was the least we could do.

"Good," I said with a fake smile that seemed too real. "How are you?" It was easy to deflect. We were all hurting. To hide yourself, all you had to do was turn the conversation to them.

She closed her eyes. "I'm...okay," she said, searching for the right word. But as she opened her eyes, I could see the reflection of tears in her eyes. She was in my arms in an instant, her long hair sliding through my fingers, her chest rising and falling against mine. Her breath was uneven, as was her heartbeat. I rubbed her back as she sucked in a shuddering breath. She buried her face in my neck. "I miss him so much." Her voice was shaky, and I led her slowly toward my room. I closed the door, stamping three times on the floor as a signal. It was not good that we had signals for someone having another attack. I heard another stamp nearby--twice, asking who. I stamped five times.

I sat Y/N on the bed, holding her head to my chest as she pressed against me. We all had our ways to show that we needed comfort. Pepper usually would only talk to her daughters, and her voice usually portrayed anger. Harley never said anything, but I could hear him crying in the room over at night. Nebula was the hardest to find. She never was seen showing weakness because she hadn't known him long, but I'd find her on the roof sometimes. Morgan was easy--she was a kid and didn't feel the need to be strong. She hadn't been beaten down enough to think no one cared. But Y/N...she hid everything. It was difficult to find a moment where she let her guard down. And she only ever came to me, and I was honored. I was the only one she was willing to show weakness to. But when each of them was feeling down, there were signs. Pepper could be found working hard on improving the suit Mister Stark gave her or just staring at it. Harley would tinker. Nebula would ask to play paper football. Morgan would ask for stories. And Y/N would shut down. She would bury herself in her room and watch videos of her dad or read books.