Peter Parker Oneshots

Well that was embarrassing p3

Ships II None

Warnings II Sparring

"Yeah. Okay. Just let me get out of this suit."

I clambered out of the iron prison, and clambered across the wet wooden floor. "Why is it—"

"Wet? Ask Katniss, I heard something from Natasha about a child playing with matches. I'm assuming she meant Clint, if she didn't some random kid crept into our training center."

He launched at me, throwing his shield straight toward my head. As I caught the flying metal frisbee, I had an idea. A great idea.

"D!"

I could see him raising his eyebrows, but he didn't say anything. As he came in for the second attack, I leapt into the air, pretending I was a Boobrie.

"DO!"

This time, I could visibly tell he was trying to figure out my 'teenager language'. As his shield boomeranged across the gym, whizzing past my face, I screeched out again.

"DON!"

"Who is 'Don'?" He was multitasking now—asking something he was openly curious about, but also using it to try to distract me. How smart, if only it would work. He lunged forward, and I ducked beneath him, snatching his shield out of his hands as he passed.

"DONK!"

Throwing the shield with all my might—well, okay, probably like the smallest amount of my might, because I'd get in trouble if I broke the walls—it ricocheted off the glass wall, and into Steve's stomach, his groan sounded painful.

"DONKE!"

He realised all to late what I'd been doing, as I jumped up and latched onto the ceiling. Ready to drop at will. In a small patch of hope, he ran for the door. But the spider sprang.

"DONKEY!"

Just as Steve swiped to the side, someone opened the door, in my surprise I forgot to shoot a web, and sailed out the open door.

A loud cry of, "WHAT IN ASGARD IS GOING ON IN HERE?" Was heard from the person who opened the door, whom I now recognised as Tony.

"Long story."

He rolled his eyes, "I get three questions. One; what kind of war cry is DONKEY!"

"Says the man who charges into battle yelling 'peanut butterrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr'!"

"Fine. Two, Why is team breakfast steelers winning?"

"Because we're better than old Tin-Cans."

"I'm gonna pretend that you didn't mean that personally, anyway, three. Why are there a bunch of kids watching you fight?"

Just as I groaned, "a tour group . . ."

Cap screeched in surprise. "Holy *insert your choice of profanity here*."

In union, Tony and Peter did the perfect impression of Steve's PSA voice. "So you just cursed in front of a group of kids . . ."

He rolled his eyes. "Do you recon the kids heard all of that?"

"Nah, just saw."

"Oh, yay. And, no dinner for you tonight."

"Why?"

"You didn't let us have breakfast."

"Oh. It is on. Code APRW! I repeat, FRIDAY, do you copy? Code APRW!"

"Kid you did not just."

"Oh, But I did just."

"Fine. But you have to deal with all of the kids outside."

I grabbed the Iron Man suit I'd been using, and climbed back inside. "Deal."

Steve and Tony out their heads together and started scheming, he could eavesdrop, but what would be the fun in that?

As he re-secured the helmet, a kid from the group outside yelled. He couldn't make it out, but it sounded something like 'WHOSSAT?!'

"Yellow, kids. You are being asked to leave your tour and find a safe place to hide as a group. FRIDAY will alert you when it's safe to come out."

Doreen—the tour guide lady, whom I recognised to work on the Dum-E models—sighed, "who called it this time?"

"Me."

An obnoxious voice called from the back of the group. "Who called what?"

"Mr. Smartbutt here, called code APRW. I'm guessing donuts were for breakfast?"

"Why else would it happen. TEAM BREAKFAST STEALERS!"

The annoying person at the back of the crowd called out yet again, "what's code APRW?"

"Something you need to be scared of . . . I gotta go, Wanda promised that we could mind control Tony."

Sprinting for the stairs, I ran into Nat. "We were meeting in Wanda's room?"

"We were. She's on our side, but she's going to pretend to go on alone. It's not just us, though—Clint offered to join our cause, and Scott is being dragged to the dark side by Hope."

"Was that a Star Wars reference?"

"Maybe. But—"

"I have taught you well, young apprentice."

Nat rolled her eyes. "I'm way older than you, which is something I don't admit too much. Also, we're getting off topic. You and me have a job to do. We're going to get Sam, and we're going to get him good."

It was as if we could read each other's thoughts—or maybe we just had the same evil mindset. We both knew where we were headed; to the control room.

It wasn't as evil as the name sounded, it just monitored all of Tony and Peters experiments, to make sure none of them killed anyone. Or ate Clint's fruit loops. Everyone except Peter and Natasha had a shift there.

Not Peter, because Tony insisted he was too young, and not Tasha because the main reason they had the monitors was to make sure that she didn't murder anyone.