Inheritance of ash

Unwanted answers

Ned grinned. "That's actually kind of sweet."

MJ tilted her head. "And you're not in love with her?"

Peter froze. "W-What? That's—come on, don't be—" He laughed nervously. "I mean, she's—she's great. Obviously. Amazing. Brave. Strong. Hilarious in that really dry, deadpan way. Also? Like, so pretty. Like stupidly pretty. Which is not the reason I like her, I swear, it's just—bonus points. Big bonus points."

MJ raised an eyebrow, amused.

Ned grinned wider. "Keep going, lover boy."

Peter flushed. "No, I—look, she's been through a lot. And somehow she still gives a crap about other people. She helped Kate with that Yelena thing. And she always checks in on everyone. She doesn't talk about what she's been through, but you feel it. Like—like her silence is heavier than a hundred words."

MJ leaned back in the chair, tapping her pencil against her lip. "You've got it bad."

Peter groaned again and dropped his face into his hands. "Is it that obvious?"

"Yes," MJ and Ned said in unison.

Peter peeked out from between his fingers. "Okay, well, it doesn't matter because I'm being cool about it."

"You literally just described her like she's a tragic poetry goddess from the moon," MJ said dryly.

Ned added, "Which, to be fair, sounds kinda accurate."

Peter smiled softly. "Yeah. She just... She deserves something good."

They both quieted for a second.

Then MJ asked, "So what are you planning?"

Peter brightened a bit, leaning forward. "Okay. Don't tell anyone yet. But I may or may not be working on something that includes paint. And possibly lights. And maybe... okay, definitely glitter."

MJ looked horrified. "You're using glitter?"

"It's for a good cause."

Ned nudged him. "She's gonna love it, man."

Peter ducked his head, a little sheepish but undeniably hopeful. "I hope so."

Before Ned or MJ could respond, Peter's phone buzzed loudly against the nightstand.

He grabbed it quickly, half-expecting it to be Tony with more overprotective interrogations, but the name on the screen made his brows lift: Wanda Maximoff.

He picked up. "Hey."

"Hi," Wanda's calm voice came through, slightly amused. "Is now a good time? Or are you still being emotionally roasted by your friends?"

Peter whipped his head around to glare at MJ and Ned, who were obviously trying to listen in. He turned away from them like that would help. "No, no, I'm good. What's up? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine. I just finished testing the frosting color. The purple you picked is great, by the way."

Peter lit up instantly. "Wait, it worked?"

"It worked. Vision and I almost ruined it by arguing over whether or not to use almond extract, but—crisis averted. Chocolate layer's already cooling."

Peter sighed in relief. "You're the best. Seriously. I still don't know how I talked you into this."

"You guilt-tripped me by bringing up the sauna incident," Wanda said dryly.

Peter winced. "I was trying to be supportive."

"You traumatized me with visual reminders," she deadpanned.