Spiderman One-shots 🕸️

Just a scratch

Irondad...thats all that needs to be said.

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Patrol went like usual. Swinging aimlessly in the dead of night, catching a few criminals, getting slightly stabbed. Nothing I can't handle.

Its only when I reach the tower I realise the extent of my injuries. I could have sworn the knife only entered once. Why the hell do I have three stab wounds!?

I let out a groan, knowing full well Dad will notice this in the morning. Its like he can sense injury. Either that or Karen tells him when I'm asleep, which is most likely the case thanks to that stupid Baby Monitor Protocol which I can't disable.

I go into the bathroom and pull out my first aid box, stuffed full of medical supplies like stitches and bandages.

Rule 4 of being Spiderman: no hospitals. The media will have a field day if I rock up at a hospital bleeding out without a mask on. So I have learned how to treat myself. I have become pretty good at stitching myself up, which is good when there are multiple large gashes on my abdomen.

After ten minutes the cuts are closed. The bruising is already disappearing, I only hope the wounds are gone by morning. Thank you healing factor!

I carefully lower myself into bed and drift of to sleep when my bloody alarm goes of. Perfect, another day with zero sleep. I really am taking after Dad. I lob my alarm across the room and turn over. Just as my eyelids droop shut Friday starts beeping at me from the overhead speakers.

"Okay okay I am up, jeez Friday." I moan swinging myself out of bed. Exhuastion hits me as I trudge out of my room to the kitchen. At 6am on a Tuesday you wouldn't expect anyone to be awake. But nope, the room is full of avengers, including my Dad.

"Hey Peter, want some pancakes." I grunt in response and sit of a free barstool. Clint and Bucky chuckle at my dishevelled appearance.

"God Pete you look awful." Clint laughed, ruffling my already messy hair.

"How late were you patrolling?" Dad asks, giving me a judgmental eyebrow raise.

"Oh not long, I got back at one." I said, you know like a liar.

"No you didn't Peter. We arrived half an hour ago." Hoesntly if Karen was a person i would slap her. The room is completely silent, excluding Clint and Bucky's stifled laughter.

"I'm sorry WHAT?" I wince at Dad's tone, its too early to be shouting. I sigh and rest my head in my arms, willing the ground to swallow me up whole. Dad comes up and pokes my side. I know what he's doing and he will not get a reaction. He pokes me again, this time with more force.

Of course he would pick the exact spot one of my cuts were located. I let out a small hiss, drawing back.

"How many this time?" Bruce asks from the other side of the room.

"Six." I mumble. My Dad almost faints when he lifts up my shirt.

"SIX!?" 

"Its just a scratch I have dealt with worse." I say sleepily, not in the mood to argue. Steve slides me a plate of pancakes drenched in syrup. I smile thankfully, glad I can focus on something other than my dad's ranting. Its always the same speech about how 'I need to be more careful' blah blah blah. 

As if I don't know that. I don't go looking to get stabbed! Its not my fault that idiots feel the need penetrate me with a blade. I discretely roll my eyes, looking at any of my adoptive family for assistance.

"Peter are you even listening." I jerked my head up, still half asleep. I gave a very pathetic smile and ran down the hall, locking myself in my room.

"Damn no rest for Spiderman." I groan as I pull on my suit. Dad is pounding on the door which I glued shut with webs.

"Just a scratch my ass boy, get out here now!"

"Sorry gotta go, can't be late for school."

"It's half six!"

"Exactly, I only have an hour better get going now...byeeee."

With that I launch out the window. I am in for hell when I get home.