Peter swore on his life that he’s been good.
He swore. He’s been nothing but good.
Okay except for that one time he stole Bucky’s cookies, but you couldn’t possible blame him! It was in the fridge and they were basically begging to be eaten. Or that time in third grade when he accidently searched up porn because he thought it was a synonym for prom.
That’s beside the point.
The point is, whatever he did, he knew for a fact that he’d never did anything that bad. So, why on earth does faith have to decide this for Peter?
What could he possibly do, which was so bad, karma decided his class was going to a field to the Stark Industries.
His life flashes before his eyes as every single moment he’d lived lead up to this. Was this the universe’s plan all along? Was this his destiny, written centuries before he was born? Were the gods above tinkling with his brain to make sure he made the choices he did to lead up to his doom? Because if that were the case, well fuck you universe.
He’s as good as dead.
Been there done that, his brain supplied unhelpfully.
As he stood in the lobby of the building he basically lived in, he could visualize the words on his headstone while he laid six feet under.
“Peter Benjamin Parker 2001-2023 death by the ground he’s standing on swallowing him whole, he said ‘thank you’ to it.”
He could feel the remaining piece of the torn up permission slip mocking him, which itself was absurd in Peter’s humble opinion, since it was an inanimate object. Yet, he could hear it cackling.
It was probably Tony’s doing, he concluded. Screw you, Tony.
He wondered if the tour guide would recognize him, and knowing Tony, he’d probably send someone who do.
“Hey Penis, ready for your lies to be exposed?” you know who said.
Peter had to resist the urge to punch Flash in the face. He’d much rather be dealing with Voldemort than Flash at the moment. At least the overgrown snake would shut up and just kill him or something, and right now, he would have accepted it with a ‘peace out’ as his final words.
Even though Flash wasn’t such a pain the ass since “the snap”, he was still an ass, (which let’s be honest, he barley have one compared to Peter’s, Spidey boy is thicker than a bowl of oatmeal). However, before he could say anything back, MJ beat him to it.
“It’s funny how much you’re obsessed with Parker’s dick Eugene; it’s honestly making me gag.”
Flash turned to her, clearly having a word or two to say, but immediately shuts his mouth when he saw MJ’s one raised eyebrow.
“Whatever,” he scoffed, muttering some other insult (to peter, obviously, not even the gods would dare insult MJ) and turning away.
Peter send her a grateful smile as a silent thanks.
“You’re welcome, loser,” MJ said, her tone uncaring, and turning her attention back to the book. Yet, there was a hint of a smile in her voice, it was small that you’d missed it if you weren’t Peter or Ned, but it was there.
Before anyone could utter another word, one of the lobby’s door opened revealing a figure with his suit and a perfect paparazzi smile.
“Hello Midtown! I’m sure you know who I am but allow me to introduce myself,” a smug voice sounded.
“I’m Tony Stark and I’ll be your personal tour guide for today,” pausing for dramatic effects, because honestly what do you expect, “Welcome to Stark Industries,” Tony said, sending a wink to Peter with a grin that could compete with a Cheshire cat.
He stared back at his mentor, disbelieve written across his face, while his classmates gape at the sight of the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.
At that moment, Peter wanted nothing more than yeeting himself off the nearest window. A silent groan escaped his lips as his body filled with dread.
This was going to be a long day, and he doesn’t get paid enough for this.
(He doesn’t get paid at all)