spiderman angst/sickfic oneshots

trans peter (irondad)

"It's fine." He wheezed, standing up, but stumbling forward dizzily as his lower, weaker ribs ached.

"It doesn't seem fine..." Stark said, "can I see?" He asked, hoping the boy's ribs wouldn't be broken. But instead of the simple comment finding a solution, the kid panicked and hopped up onto the wall, pulling his mask back on nervously, stopping, coughing again as he tried to scale the wall, but slipped back down as he kept heaving air into his arm. It sounded hoarse and painful.

He was clutching his ribs, standing unsteadily, like he was going to pass out.

"Woah woah, easy easy. It's fine, I won't look. Someone should though, sounds awful." Tony said blandly.

The boy sort of just looked at him through his goggled eyes.

"Jesus, how do you see out of those things?" He asked, cocking his head as he squinted to try and see the boy's eyes, "what's your name anyways?"

"Uh- Peter." He answered nervously, "Peter Parker."

"Well, Peter Parker. See a doctor." He said, checking his watch, "I need to go home to my wife.... See a doctor."

And with that, Tony left, hoping he had convinced the kid to get some professional help.

But he didn't.

Peter didn't even go home that night, which was problematic when it started to rain. Pour, actually. He was sitting on a rooftop, completely sleep deprived, feeling unwell.

He refused to take the binder off. He needed a shower so severely. He took off his mask and tied his long hair into a messy bun. He hated his hair. He hated it. He hated his hair, his face, his thighs, his hands, everything about him was so smooth and feminine. He hated it.

He felt like crying.
And then he took out a razorblade from the zipper pocket in his pants, snapping off his webshooters. He knew this was anything but sanitary, but on these hard nights when he knew he would be late to school in the morning because he couldn't go home for a change of clothes until his aunt left for work he needed to do it. When he knew he would be crying after his shower because of having to look at his body he needed to do it.

He let out a sob, and then dug the blade into his wrist. He felt his emotions loosen as he made another. Then another. When he was done he slid his soaking wet sleeve down and put the blade back in his pocket, zipping it up after.

He was freezing, and it hurt to breathe, but still, he snapped his webshooters back on, ignoring the blood underneath, and swung off into the night, his ribs hurting worse than ever.

-------

Peter showed up to school the next day with a huge cup of coffee, clean hair, and a huge hoodie on over his also massive jeans, doing everything to hide his body shape. He let his clean, silky smooth hair fall over his shoulders.

He looked like a girl. He knew it. He hated it. And he hated it. He hated it more when Flash came barreling by with all his flashy confidence and yelled slurs at him.

MJ, thankfully, was close by and told him to fuck off, knowing Peter wouldn't stand up for himself. It was the first time she'd seen him in a while.

"You okay, loser? You look like you haven't slept in a month." MJ asked. She didn't know how to convince Peter that she never saw him as a girl. He knew he didn't believe her.

"Only four days." Peter mumbled, messing with his hair, tugging on it angrily. Angry that it was still there.

"Shit, Peter. Why?" MJ she asked seriously.

He just shrugged, changing the topic.

"I don't barely see May anymore. Do you think I can chop off my hair?" He asked.