Some days are good days, and other days are on the tougher side. But sometimes, there’s that perfect salty-sweet mix that reminds Peter that everything’s going to be okay. Days like today, for instance.

Peter Stark woke up with a longing desire to linger in the warmth of his covers, safely tucked from the outside world. The teenager exhaled softly, remembering that his dad was on a mission with his uncles Steve and Thor, so Natasha was taking care of him until the heroes returned back safe and sound. 

He heard the voice of Natasha call with a smile, “C’mon Peter, you have school today!”

Peter forced himself out of the covers calling back, “Coming Aunt Nat!” The cold bit at his skin, making the boy shiver as he rummaged through his clothes for a pair of pants and the warmest sweater that he could find. After ensuring that his outfit would guarantee him enough warmth as well as supplying an ideal amount of comfort, he headed to brush his teeth and then breakfast. 

He smiled at the sight of Natasha, the Black Widow who also happened to be the world’s deadliest and most tactful spy and assassin who also happened to be a true Russian with a smile on her face she was surrounded by the wafting sound of pancakes as well as an overwhelming amount of syrup all over the kitchen. 

Natasha saw the poked fun look on her nephew’s face as she threatened him with a butter knife, “Tell your father, and…”

Peter cocked a brow, amused, “You’ll what? Butterknife me?”

Natasha coyly smirked, “No more pancakes for you  маленький паук.”

Peter feigned a gasp as he dug into the meal, “You wouldn’t dare.” He spoke as he swallowed a forkful of pancakes into his mouth. 

Natasha tutted with an amused grin of her own, “Chew, swallow, then speak.” She eyed the boy’s apparel, “Good. You’re dressed warmly, it’s cold. And from what your dad told me your senses make you more vulnerable to the cold, so I’ll pick you up.” She flashed Peter a look, threatening him to argue otherwise, “And don’t worry, it’s no big deal. C’mon, I’m taking you today and Romanoffs aren’t late.”

Peter inquired amused, “Romanoffs?” He slipped on his coat as pulled on his backpack as he followed his aunt into one of his dad’s cars. 

Natasha replied with a wink, “Honorary Romanoff to you Mister Stark.”

Peter chuckled as Natasha drove, “Well consider me honored then.”

The ride was relatively short, approximately fifteen minutes with light traffic. Natasha pulled up at Midtown’s curb, “Have fun, okay? Anyone who bothers you, just let me know. I’ll take care of it.”

Peter only waved goodbye as he entered the facility, expecting a good normal day. 

Ten minutes in, and it was not a good day. 

Both of his friends Ned and MJ weren’t present, and from the smirk that Flash wore, Peter knew that the idea of a good day was thrown out the window. 

Especially with the smirk that Flash was wearing. 

Peter counted down to three when Flash taunted, “Well Peter, looks like you don’t have your fat friend or your loser of a girlfriend to defend the little honor you have this time, huh?” His eyes sparkled deviously, “Which means that today, it’s just you and me. And I can’t wait.” 

Peter ignored Flash as he slid into his seat, which happened to be right in front of Flash. He was in the middle of copying notes when he felt something hit the back of his neck. Peter rolled his eyes as he moved up in his seat, refusing to give Flash the satisfaction or the attention that he had craved so. God, some people are so annoying. 

Despite him moving his seat up, Peter bit back a groan as another paper ball crashed into the back of his neck, refusing to move despite his spidey senses indicating to do so. Because doing so would seem odd and the last thing Peter needed was an identity crisis. 

Flash, on the other hand, continued to chuck paper ball after paper ball hissing in the teenager’s ear, “God you’re so pathetic, why the hell are you even here?” 

Peter bit back a very sarcastic yet sassy quip involving the birds and the bees. He leaned forward in his seat, trying his very best to focus on the lesson, despite the words getting into his gut. 

The rest of the day was indifferent, if not worse. 

The bell rang, dismissing them to their next class. Peter got up to move, but immediately face-planted onto the floor after being tripped by Flash. Peter winced as he slowly got back up just for Flash to chortle as he kicked him, “God, you’re unbelievably pathetic. Clumsy little bitch.” 

Peter pretended to ignore Flash as he headed to his next class, which unironically, had Flash in there too. At least he wasn’t near him, giving Peter some time to relax. Much to his luck, the person who sat right next to him was absent, and Flash strode into the seat. And being that the actual teacher wasn’t preset, no one told Flash zilch. 

Peter buried his face in his hands as Flash continued to hiss at him. 

“You’re the biggest freak in the entire school.” 

“I look at you, and I already have to try not to throw up cause you’re so goddamn ugly.” 

“No wonder you’re such a loser, even the other losers know not to hang with you, I mean look at you. You’re pathetic, ugly, stupid, and not even worth the gum on my shoes. Get a life, better yet, get the hell out of my school."

Peter was relieved when the bell dismissed them for lunch. He blinked back the tears that were pooling in his eyes as he sat down at lunch alone. Ned was sick with the flu, and MJ had a dentist appointment, which left him alone, as well as totally vulnerable to whoever decided to continue to rain on the teenager’s parade. 

He opened his lunch bag that Natasha had packed for him. Which by the way, was completely adorable for the record, more so with her alter-ego’s legacy. Natasha had packed him a sandwich along with a note on a red post-it reading, “Hey Peter, have a great day at school okay? Love you, xoxo, Natasha :) 

A warm smile curled up Peter’s lips as he read his aunt’s words, already lightening up his mood. And then Flash once again had to go and ruin it. 

Flash snatched the note right out of Peter’s notes chuckling not nicely, “Wow penis, I didn’t know your mother still wrote you notes like you’re a baby. Oh wait, I thought your mother was dead!” He burst into laughter as he let the note fall to the floor. He grabbed the sandwich that was in Peter’s hands and threw it to the floor, and stomped on it repeatedly with his shoe, tearing the sandwich apart. 

He spat in Peter’s face, “You can’t eat here, you ruin everyone’s appetite. Find somewhere else for your sorry self.” 

Forcing back tears, Peter grabbed Natasha’s note as he walked out of the lunchroom, heading to the boy’s bathroom. It wasn’t desirable, but it was the only place where he could cry without being noticed. He opened the cleanest stall and locked it, and sank to the floor, quietly sobbing as tears raced down his face. He whispered softly as he buried his head in his hands, “What is so wrong with me?” 

And before the teenager knew it, it was time for his next class. He wiped his tear-stained cheeks as he headed to Geometry, grateful that it was his last class of the day and then he could go home where Flash couldn’t bother him. 

Geometry went by slow, more so because of his teacher than the actual lesson. His teacher took forever to get started, dragged the lesson out, and just wasn’t anyone’s favorite guy. Peter didn’t have any opinion on him, sitting quietly as he worked on the starter worksheet. The teacher was in the middle of conferencing with another student when he shouted over the class’ chatter, “Enough! Flash, get up and sit next to Peter and please, do your work!” 

Peter grimaced as Flash sent the former a shit-eating grin as he slid into the seat next to Peter. Flash crumpled Peter’s worksheet and chucked into the trash. Peter gave Flash a look as he went up to the teacher to ask for another sheet who refused. The teacher retorted, “Since you can’t do your work either, you can sit there and listen.” 

Peter felt like crying as he walked back to his seat. He hadn’t even done anything! He knew better than to argue. He was known as the good student amongst the teachers, and the one time he supposedly does something wrong, he doesn’t even get a second chance? He kept the rest of his work as far away from Flash who merely taunted, “Looks like you aren’t such a good student anymore, huh Peter?” He leaned over into Peter’s ear and whispered, “Fucking freak is what you are.” 

Peter felt his cheeks turn red as he retorted, pissed, “Can you shut the hell up Flash? I’ve done nothing to you! Leave me alone!” 

His teacher turned to him and spoke disapprovingly, “I expected better from you Peter, clearly I was wrong.” 

Peter was about to start crying. What kind of world is this? 

Luckily, the bell rang, dismissing everyone home. Peter never packed up and left so fast, getting as far away from Flash as possible with the one and only goal of getting home. He walked outside, finding Natasha in the car and slipped in the front seat. 

Natasha smiled at him as he entered the car, “Hey Peter, how was school?” 

Peter strained, “Good.” He leaned his head against the window, unaware that tears were slipping down his cheeks. Or the fact that Natasha had stopped the car. She was looking at him with concern, “Peter, what happened? Really, I can practically smell bullshit.” She offered a smile as she noticed more tears started to slip down the boy’s face, “маленький паук?” 

The nickname was all it took for Peter to start bawling into his hands as built-up frustration from the entire day spilled out. Natasha wrapped an arm around Peter, pulling him close to her chest, “Hey, you’re okay. What happened?” 

Peter sniffed through his cries, “I hate this!” 

Natasha asked kindly, “Hate what?” 

Peter replied as he leaned into Natasha’s hold, “There’s this kid Flash, he keeps on bothering me, and the entire day he just wouldn’t leave me alone! He hates me so much and I don’t know why! It’s never this bad but today he just wouldn’t stop! He keeps saying I’m so ugly and dumb and gross! He took my lunch and said that I was ruining everyone’s appetites and I should find somewhere else to eat! And he got me in trouble twice!” 

He didn’t realize how childish he sounded when the words escaped his mouth but Natasha consoled him softly, “маленький паук, let it out. I’m here.” She rubbed soft circles with the hand that wasn’t holding the teenager to her chest. 

Peter spoke through his lessened cries, “It’s not fair! I don’t know what I did to bother him so much that he hates me!” 

Natasha shook her head, “Peter, you didn’t do anything. Did you?” 

Peter replied as he wiped his nose, “No, at least, I’m pretty sure I didn’t.” 

Natasha concluded, “Then you didn’t do anything. It’s not your fault. Whatever awful things he said to you are nothing but lies because that son of a bitch doesn’t have anything better in his life.” Sensing Peter’s sadness, she asked softly, “What did that asshole tell you?” 

Peter mumbled, “He says that I’m dumb, ugly, stuff like that. It never bothered me before, I don’t know why I’m making such a big deal about it.” 

Natasha shook her head, “Peter, that’s not true, none of it. Peter, you’re human. You’re allowed to get upset, it’s human. It’s not bad to cry. In fact, I think it makes a person stronger. Besides, if we didn’t show emotion, we’d be empty robots trained for Russia’s benefit.” 

She wiped Peter’s tears with her thumbpads, “As for the lies that kid said, I promise you that none of those things are true. And don’t even argue with me on that, because trust me, I will win.”

Peter let out a watery chuckle at that. 

Natasha smiled, “There’s that smile. The Peter Stark I know is the smartest, most handsome, and most perfect boy I know. Honorary Romanoff promise.” She ruffled his curly hair, “Now, I heard there’s a good ice cream place around here that needs our attention.”