The White Pallax (Peter Parker x Reader)

X - Who are you?

By the time Peter finishes speaking, you're fuming. This time Tony has crossed the line. Refusing to let your friends see you? When you get home, you are going to kill him. You are straight up going to take a knife and stab him with it. Maybe not fatally. But you'd get your message across with a prick to the arm, you think.

The only thing keeping you from screaming is the classroom setting. You'd be sure to get detention. Or laughed at. And you'd prefer neither.

"That prick," you seethe. "He's unbelievable."

Peter quickly tries to defuse you. "He's just trying to protect you."

"Whatever. It's not your fault I sneak off all the time." You stand and pace around Peter's desk, trying to calm yourself. A jar of white substance in his drawer catches your attention. Before he can stop you, you snatch it up. It's thick and sticky. You scrunch your nose, trying to keep from laughing. Almost immediately, your anger fizzles away. "You realize what this looks like, right?"

Peter flushes and tries to snatch it back, but you hold it out of his reach. "Well it's not that."

You smirk. "Why're you so red, then?"

He stammers, trying to get a plausible explanation out, but says nothing comprehensible. You smile wide. There he is. "I'm kidding, Parker. I know it's not that."

You hand it back to him and he quickly hides it away. Why does he care so much that no one sees it? Then again, it is rather familiar...

The bell interrupts your thoughts and the suspicion immediately flees from your mind. You gather your things and head out the door, side by side with Peter. Michelle and Ned walk a few paces behind you. Curious, you shoot them a glance. Ned gives you a thumbs up, and Michelle hardly acknowledges your existence. Do they know about your kiss? Your heart pounds. Why does that make you so nervous? It's not like they'll make fun of you for it.

"So," you clear your throat, glancing sideways at Peter, "I've been told that you're struggling with Spanish."

He chuckles. "Uh, yeah. My mind has been elsewhere lately."

"Well," you offer, "if you'd like, I can help tutor you."

"Yeah!" Peter beams, pulling you into a side hug. "Of course!"

"Great! Your place, tonight, okay?"

He nods. You hook your arm around his back, returning the hug. An aura of comfort settles over you. How nice it is to finally have your best friend back.

When you get home, you make an extra effort to slam the door shut. It closes with a bang and you swear you saw it splinter a bit. Maybe you should look into new doors.

The anger has returned. And you're fuming. More enraged with your uncle than you've ever been with anyone ever. You take a deep breath and try to keep your voice from shaking. Tony emerges from the living room, a concerned look on his face.

"Bad day?" He asks.

You breathe out curtly. When you speak, your voice is brusque. "Oh you have no fucking idea Tony!"

He just stares at you quizzically, waiting for you to elaborate.

You throw your backpack onto a nearby chair. Hard enough to make it wobble. Man, when you're angry, you're almost superhuman. "How fucking dare you! Peter told me what you said to him! I cannot fucking believe you! You let me suffer without friends for two whole weeks just because you blamed him for my recklessness? Ground me all you want, uncle, but you will not ever take away my friends again. Understand me?"