Parley Oneshots

Scars

Request by Freya648

Yay a new chapter! Everything has been reuploaded and I can go back to writing for all of y'all :)

TW: blood, injury

Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel.

3rd Person P.O.V.

Peter leaped off the roof of a building, flipping in the air before landing gracefully. He immediately moved into attack formation, surveying the scene in front of him. Three guys with guns, an unusually large, burly man, and about four hostages tied together against the wall. It was a robbery, and not a subtle one at that. The large glass window was completely shattered, the only remains being the shards on the ground or sticking out from the sides.

"Hey! It's that spider guy!" The big man yelled, pointing at Peter. The men with guns turned, aiming at the teenage vigilante with matching scowls. Peter hesitated for a moment before sprinting towards them. Gunshots went off, and the young hero was able to dodge most of the bullets.

Keyword: most.

One bullet hit him in the shoulder, and another dug straight into his leg. Peter stumbled with a grimace, seeing the men cease fire after hitting him. He shook his head, tsking disapprovingly.

"Well geez, no need to get all trigger happy!" With a painful grunt, Peter leaped into the air, shooting webs into the eyes of the gun-wielders. With them temporarily blinded, he kicked the burly man to the ground, webbing his wrists together before hanging him on a street lamp so he couldn't escape. Then, he quickly knocked the three other men out, grimacing at his injuries as he webbed them together and stuck the bundle of criminals to the wall.

Peter limped his way over to the store, freeing the hostages before sitting on the counter to pull the bullet out of his leg. He let out a groan, digging the offending metal from his body. He laid back with a short gasp, closing his eyes to breathe and relax. At least the other bullet had gone straight through his shoulder.

His shoulder wound was almost completely healed over at this point, and his leg wasn't far behind. Peter sat up quickly, feeling his spider sense go off. But it was too late. A knife got lodged into his stomach, from a fourth man that hadn't been there during the robbery, as far as Peter knew.

The man stepped backwards, eyes wide and staring at the vigilante. Peter looked straight back at the man, pulling the knife out and tossing it to the ground before standing back up at walking towards him. The man shrunk back a little, turning to make a run for it. Quickly, Peter shot a web, hitting the man's legs so he couldn't run. He fell to the ground, Peter easily webbing him up before sticking him on the wall next to the rest of the men.

He shot a web to escape the scene, landing on a rooftop. He sat down with a grunt, sighing at the blood staining his suit. He glanced at his leg quickly, noticing the dark scar the bullet had left. Similarly, his shoulder had another dark scar. His stomach was still bleeding, just barely, and would scar over in a matter of minutes. Peter sighed, unhappy, but not surprised, to be adding more scars to the collection that littered his entire body from the crazy injuries he had sustained since becoming Spiderman.

He was grateful for his healing ability, of course- he would be dead without it- but he couldn't help but despise the way it made him look. Sure, he was able to heal most injuries in just a few minutes, but they all left nasty scars. His body was a tapestry of careless mistakes and reckless destruction.

Peter swung back to the tower, climbing in through the window and into the bathroom. He hesitantly pulled off his suit, quickly throwing on a large hoodie and sweatpants that were so long he tripped over the extra fabric. The clothes hid his body well, only a few small scars littering his exposed skin would show. With a curt nod, Peter climbed into bed, sighing as he fell asleep.

"Darrrrrllllliiiiinnnnn'!" Harley cooed, shaking the smaller boy gently. "C'mon, you gotta get up, it's almost noon!" Peter groaned, rubbing his eyes lazily.

"Kiss?" He murmured, blinking up at Harley with his doe eyes.

"Hmmm, why don't you get up first and then we'll see." With a short sigh, Peter sat up, getting out of bed. Harley smiled, wrapping his arms around the brunette and leaning in.

"Let's go get breakfast first, then kisses." The blond tapped Peter's nose playfully, chuckling as he led the sleepy boy to the kitchen. They both grabbed breakfast, eating quickly (kisses are quite the motivator) before returning to the bedroom. Once the door was closed and locked, Peter found himself pinned up against the wall, Harley's lips on his. Both boys melted into the kiss, breaking apart with a gasp and soft panting before Harley latched onto Peter's neck, leaving a couple hickeys on the exposed skin.

Peter let out a soft moan, Harley quickly reattaching their lips before moving them both to the bed, the southern boy leaning over Peter. Harley ripped his shirt off in between kisses, hands moving to the bottom of Peter's hoodie. With a gasp, the smaller boy pulled away, holding his hoodie tight against his body.

"Darlin'? Are you ok?" Harley frowned, concern spread evenly across his features.

"I can't... I'm sorry..."

"It's ok if you don't want to do it. I may have gotten a little excited, but if you don't want to, then we won't." Harley laid a gentle hand on Peter's shoulder, seeing the guilt pooling in those big brown eyes.

"No- it's- ARGH!" His eyebrows furrowed in frustration. "No, I... I do want to, it's just..." Harley tilted his head, frowning.

"Just what?"

"Just..." Peter sighed. "I'm... I'm kinda weird looking?" A moment passed before Harley let out a light chuckle.

"Don't worry darlin', I'm sure you don't look that weird. Most dicks don't look exactly as you see in-"

"Woah, no, that's not what I meant." Peter blushed darkly.

"Then what?"

"You know how I have that... healing ability, yeah?" Harley nodded. "Well, it doesn't heal everything..." Peter watched the gears turning in the southern boy's head, before realization dawned on him.

"Scars?" Peter nodded solemnly. Harley tutted softly, hugging his boyfriend tight. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right?"

"It matters to me. I hate it," the brunette spat. "I'm so ugly..."

"How dare you say that about the boy I love? He is so beautiful and absolutely perfect, and nothing would ever change that," Harley insisted, kissing Peter's forehead gently. "It's your choice, darlin', but I promise you I will not judge. I love you, no matter what you look like." Peter hesitated for a moment, before letting out a rushed breath.

"I trust you." Harley moved back, giving Peter a bit of space. He watched as the brunette slowly took off his hoodie, eyes cast downwards in shame. His torso was covered in scars of varying shapes and sizes, a mottled image of years of battle and injury scrawled across Peter's skin. Harley was silent, eyes scanning the smaller boy's body.

"... It's gross, isn't it?" Harley looked up, shaking his head.

"No, it's not. It's you, and I love that. No matter what." Harley added. Peter fumbled with the blanket awkwardly, nodding silently. "I promise, darlin', you are still as handsome as always."

"Thanks, Harls," Peter mumbled, smiling softly. "So... this doesn't change anything between us?"

"Nope. Although," Harley smirked, raising an eyebrow. "I think you would look real nice underneath me." Peter's cheeks turned red, eyes blowing wide. The blond grinned, climbing over him and pinning his arms to the bed. He gasped, looking down at Peter. "I was right!" Peter giggled, blushing lightly.

"Harls!"

maybe if I pretend that's an ending people will just accept it

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