Chapter Text
Title: Domestic Disturbance (and a Sleeper Hold)
Laura had been through a lot for a twenty-four-year-old—more than most people, superpowered or not, could ever imagine. She could honestly say she'd been through hell and come out the other side. And she was grateful for it.
Because making it through made her who she was today: older, wiser, more mature, with better control over her emotions—especially her rage, which had been a tough one. Most importantly, though?
She was happy.
Not just content. Happy. She had people who cared about her. People she called family. People she loved.
Not that she’d go around saying that out loud. She was still Laura, after all—glares, growls, and all.
They just happened less frequently now.
That said, just because she’d grown and evolved didn’t mean she wouldn’t turn right back into the weapon they once made her if anyone dared threaten the people she loved. Sure, her family had a habit of putting their lives on the line on a regular basis, but still—she was ready if need be.
Because if life had taught her anything, it was this:
It held joy and sorrow.
Thrills and monotony.
Peace and violence.
Love and loss.
She had learned to accept all of it.
What she still hadn’t learned—what she probably never would understand—was how one man could make her feel so beyond happy… and still give her the worst headaches of her life.
Healing factor be damned.
“Hey, Wolverette! Do you know where my uniform’s at?!”
Yes. Being married to Peter Parker was... interesting.
Uniform? she snorted inwardly. More like a clown costume.
“Wolverette?”
“No, I don’t know where your ‘costume’ is!” she snapped, emphasizing the word with disdain. “And I told you to stop calling me that!”
She loved Peter—she really did—but if he called her Wolverette one more time, she was going to shove a claw somewhere he wouldn’t forget.
Peter appeared in the kitchen with his hands raised in surrender. “Uniform. It’s a uniform. Get it right.”
Laura crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “Keep telling yourself that. I still maintain it’s nothing more than a glorified onesie.”
Peter sighed and chuckled. “Can’t even get respect from my own wife.”
Growing up, he never imagined he’d get married—he was as nerdy as they came. Even after the spider powers, relationships were always a struggle. He’d figured he’d be alone forever.
But not only was he married—he was married to Laura Kinney. A literal badass with claws and a figure that made him question whether the healing factor also came with supermodel genetics.
Guess all that bad luck had to equal out somehow.'
Long black hair, smooth olive skin, and those emerald eyes that saw through everything. And the body?
Let’s just say Peter considered it a win for nerds everywhere.
Sure, he didn’t love her for her looks (though they didn’t hurt). He loved her for everything—her strength, her vulnerability, her fire, her loyalty. The rest?
Bonus.
Currently, that “bonus” was wearing a black tank top and gray shorts, showing off midriff and thighs that could kill a man (literally and figuratively).
Them thighs!
“Peter. My eyes are up here.”
“That’s nice.”
He didn’t even try to look away. He was a nerd, after all—and nerds married to gorgeous women had an obligation to stare.
For the nerds. Not for him. For them.
Laura rolled her eyes. She never saw herself as beautiful—she still saw the monster they made her, because of the blood she spilt. But Peter always reminded her otherwise, and she was learning, slowly, to believe him.
“Weren’t you looking for your costume?” she asked.
“Oh, right!” Peter spun around, immediately resuming his chaotic search. “And it’s a uniform!”
“You’re the only one who calls it that,” Laura mumbled as she returned to the pot of pasta on the stove.
She wasn’t a chef, but she could handle pasta. The key was not burning it. She glared at the pot with murderous focus.
Actually that reminded her.
"You better clean whatever mess you make!" truthfully she was just as messy as he was, the Facility didn't teach housekeeping, so she didn't want to clean someone else's mess when she barely cleaned her own.
"Yes, ma'am!"
Her eye twitched.
She didn't like it when he called her that either.
She would have to figure why exactly she didn't like being called that one day.
But at the moment, pasta was her mission.
“Don’t burn it, Laura. Don’t burn it.”she didn't like failure, it was drilled into that failure was never an option, so she had every intention of making a perfectly good pot of pasta.
The glare she was giving the pot proved that point.
She turned off the stove a few minutes later and went looking for Peter.
Their apartment was modest but comfortable. A definite upgrade from the last one—no more being jolted awake by subway trains.
Yes, their new apartment was by far the better choice. When walking into the apartment one would find the living room to the left after stepping in a few steps. The living room was decent in size and had a sliding glass door that led to a balcony to the far left. The kitchen was located on the opposite side of the apartment while their bedroom was a straight walk from the front door.
She found Peter in the bathroom, rummaging through a cabinet.
“I can’t find it!” he cried.
Laura leaned on the doorframe. “I assume you’re trying to go on patrol?”
“Yup.”
“Even though you’re exhausted.”
“Nah, I’m fine.”
“You’ve got bags under your eyes.”
“These old things?” he grinned, pointing at them. “Pure strategy. Makes the bad guys underestimate me.”
“Even though you wear a mask?”
“I’m not tired.”
Laura stepped closer and, without a word, lifted his shirt to reveal—
His suit. Already on.
“Oh... Right. Well. See ya!” he turned to leave.
Laura sighed.
Then she wrapped an arm around his neck.
The next thing Peter knew was the feeling of Laura's arm wrapping around his neck.
In a sleeper hold.
“W-What... are... y-you doing?” Peter wheezed.
“You’re too exhausted to patrol,” she said calmly. Too calmly. “I’m not letting you get killed because you’re too tired to dodge a bullet. So, as your loving wife, I’m stopping that from happening.”
“...By killing me?”
“No. By putting you to sleep.”
“...Permanently?”
“Of course not. And I find it disturbing that you’d think I would.”
That’s what she finds disturbing?!
“I’ll stop when you’re unconscious.”
“B-But—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll take your place tonight.”
Peter groaned but stopped resisting. “...Fine.”
“Good.” Laura smiled.
And didn’t let go.
“Before you black out,” she added sweetly, “there’s pasta on the stove. Make sure to warm it up when you wake up. Goodnight, Peter.”
And with that, he was out.
Laura tucked him into bed with surprising tenderness.
“Well,” she said to herself, brushing hair from his forehead, “I can’t say I didn’t know what I was getting into when I married him.
If Peter had been awake, he would’ve had a few things to say about that.
A/N: So it wasn't too long but it was just a start. Laura might seem OOC but as it said in the beginning Laura had been through a lot and became more mature and open with the people she loves, specifically Peter. This fic will actually jump around from points in their relationship. So one chapter could be about them and their kids while another could be about how they met. Laura will be more in character in those chapters before Peter starts influencing her. There will also be action chapters too and even though this is a series of one shots there'll probably be actual arcs in her too.
Oh yeah, don't be afraid to give ideas for chapters or little moments and even conversation topics, I might use them.
Peace.