Wings || Peter Parker

48: Bitch

Pepper stalked into the penthouse kitchen, drawing a chair for herself at the head of the table. Peter and I followed her downstairs, Peter branching off to the elevator before I sat at the other end of the table with Pepper.

"I don't like you hanging out with that boy." She muttered, crossing her arms.

"What?" I asked, leaning forwards. "What's wrong with Peter?"

"Boys shouldn't have that close friendships." She glanced away. "You both are inseparable."

"What are you implying?"

"You two should have girlfriends by now." She said. "You shouldn't need to spend that much time together."

I frowned. "Who said we wanted girlfriends-"

"Max was a perfectly fine candidate." Pepper stated. "Better than that boy you hang out with."

"Max was not here to auction off as a girlfriend!" I exclaimed, standing up. 

"I'm saying I don't like you boys being that close!" She shouted back, standing on her end of the table. "You should not be dating each other!"

"We-"

"And don't try to tell me you're not, I heard from many different sources." She interrupted. "And I'm not happy about it."

"Pepper-"

"Are you going to follow my instructions?"

"Let me talk-"

"As you mother, I am-" I cut her off before she could finish the sentence.

"You're not my mom!" I exclaimed, slamming my hands on the table. "You don't get a say in my life!" I glared at her. "And you don't tell me what to do. I am not expected to follow any orders given to me by you."

"I am your legal guardian."

"No, you're really not, Pepper. Tony Stark is. Tony fucking Stark, not you. You think just because you're married to him, it gives you the ability to say anything you want. Well, guess what, Pepper. I don't care."

"Oh, you better care what I'm talking about!" Her face was red and wrinkly from shouting.

A notification form FRIDAY opened on the wall. "Ms, Potts." She began. "You have a meeting in exactly ten minutes on the seventh floor."

"Hold on." She muttered.

She turned back to me. "You need to keep your language under control." She said. "You have to talk, not shout while talking to me. And you have to break up with your puny little boyfriend before I see you again."

"Peter's not puny, he's fucking Spiderman," I replied, walking to the elevator. "He stopped a bus with his bare hands!"

"Harley get back here!"

I smiled, entering the small roof and turning to see her face. She was bright red, running towards the elevator. I ignored her voice, flipping her off as the doors closed instead. 

As soon as she couldn't see me, I began to break down. Tears slipped down my face as I spammed the button. 

The doors stopped around the commons room. Surprisingly, Tony stepped in. I quickly wiped my face free of tears, though the red spots around my eyes were definitely still there.

"Oh, kid, I was doing a little looking into the security feeds from the other night-" He paused when he noticed my tears, which had stopped for precisely six seconds before continuing.

"What happened?"

I rolled my eyes. "Your wife is on fucking crack." I left him hanging as I stepped out of the double doors to the gym. I wasn't wearing gym clothes. I didn't have any gear, and my hands were still chunky in bandages. 

I made my way over to the punching bags on the other side of the room, passing by Nat who was just attacking a few tackle dummies.

I didn't even care to wrap my hands, or wear gloves. 

I tried to gather all my anger, and throw it at the nearest punching bag. My fist collided with the sand inside, packed tight and dense enough to leave a dent where my fist had been. It did not fell great, smashing my injured hand into a solid object. I still did it though.

By the time I was done, there was a good fist-heigh dent in the bag. Nat had walked over, watching over my form for a few minutes.

Once I dropped to my knees on a padded section of floor, she came over and sat next to me on a bench. 

"What happened this time?" She asked. 

"Pepper's being a bitch." I replied, trying to smack the dent out of the bag.

"What'd she do?"

"She went on a whole fucking tangent about how Peter and I shouldn't date, and one could date Max instead. Meanwhile, Max is supposedly kidnapped, and now I'm going to be if I piss off the bitch lady one more time." I took a breath in. "And she's a bitch."

"I see you favor that word." Nat nodded. "And Pepper's always been stuck up. Don't know why the guy married her."

"Sorry."

"Sorry for what?" She replied, unwrapping her hands. The black hand wraps she used to protect her hands while punching. I used them a lot when I was working through *anger issues.* I got mad though because they took fucking forever to put on.

"You know about Peter and I."

"Yes."

"She said we shouldn't date, and date Max instead. and I quote, 'Max was a perfectly fine candidate.'" I did air quotes and flopped on the ground.

"Ugh, she's never learned." Nat smiled. "But hey, you've got two pretty gay assassins that you live with, so don't hesitate to ask either of us for help. We don't murder people we live with, though."

"What?"

"Me and Bucky. Bucky and Me." She waved her hands. "The gay Russian assassins."

"Uh-huh." I nodded.

"Miss Romanoff, Mr. Keener," FRIDAY announced to the gym. "You have been requested to-" A live feed of the kitchen was projected onto the wall. Sam, Peter, and Wanda were fighting over a remote. "Come to the common's room and watch a movie," Bucky said from the side of the frame, watching the three on the couch.

"Star Wars!" Peter shouted before the feed cut out.

"Thanks, FRIDAY," Nat replied.