This has been sitting in my drafts for months, and I am now using its silliness to push through my writer's block. If you liked my fic Brace for Impact then you'll probably enjoy this as well.

Disclaimer- I own nothing, and will continue to own nothing.

In Need of Assistance-

"Why do I do this?" Peter moans to Gwen, slumped against the elevator door with half a dozen coffees balanced precariously in hand- there are many benefits to having sticky-fingers, one of which is being physically able to hold large drink orders without spilling them.

Gwen smiles, all purple lipstick and pearly white teeth. "Because you're a poor, desperate, college student," she says, far too happy about the fact.

Peter thumps the back of his head against the steel wall. "Oh yeah," he mumbles, like he could possibly forget. "That."

"I mean it could be worse," Gwen says, hefting up a box full of who knows what as the elevator 'dings' to let her know it's her floor. "You could be Pepper."

Peter makes a face, scrunching his nose in something like disgust, something very closely related to horror. "True," he admits as Gwen gives him a wink and strolls off the lift to her somewhat normal job, the rat.

Peter pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and adjusts his too large sweater-sleeves, doing his best to look put together and presentable (ha!). The young man is in the middle of trying to flatten his puffy mask-hair when the doors chime open, and there sit the Avengers in variations of dress and alertness.

"Good morning, Peter," Steve greets from his place at the kitchen table, the only person in the room who is fine with being awake at this hour.

"Morning, Steve," Peter chirps back, beginning to float around the room and hand out the coffees. (He has them all memorized now, doesn't even have to write down their orders anymore- because Peter has been at this job, Just. That. Long.)

"Want a muffin, Pete?" Sam asks from his place by the oven, cheek smeared with batter and hands covered by Hulk oven-mitts.

"Thanks," Peter smiles as he grabs a blueberry one. A year ago, he might've declined the offer, but Peter has learned to never turn down free food, and to never ever under any circumstances turn down Sam's food, because that would be a crime against mankind itself.

"What's on the agenda today?" Tony asks as he strolls by, grease-covered and smelling of motor-oil. Peter makes a mental note to check in with Pepper about the man's sleep schedule.

Peter pulls out his company issued Starkphone and flips through. "Press conference to talk about the Stark Relief Teams and S.I.'s work with Damage Control at 2:00, and then a meetup with the Fantastic Four at 5:00." It's actually at 6:00, but if Peter says 5:00 that gives him about a 65% chance that the Avengers will be on time.

"And you'll be accompanying us?" Tony gives Peter a Look, one eyebrow raised, eyes too wide as he stares at Peter over the rim of his coffee cup.

Meaning that if Peter even tries to wiggle his way out of this one there will be some sort of backlash for him to deal with later- and Peter does not have time to deal with Press Releases or calming down the guys from Payroll.

He has three different tests this week alone, he will not let the Avengers cost him any more of his study time.

He Will Not.

Doing an admirable job of keeping in his chest-heaving sigh contained (he's had much practice) Peter says, "of course," without actually glancing up from his phone.

And though Peter might not be looking, he can absolutely feel the shark-like grins aimed at his head.

"So, how's life?" Clint asks from his place next to Peter, squished in one of the two SUV's they had taken to the press conference. He smells like jellybeans for some odd reason, Peter wrinkles his nose at the man.

"Well I'm stuck here having to bully a bunch of superheroes into doing their job instead of working on my ethics paper," Peter says, texting rapid fire to tell Pepper a quick summary of what went down at the press release.

Clint hums, his elbow jabs Peter in the ribs 'accidentally', so Peter does it right back. "You act like you're our babysitter," Clint says.

Peter glances up from his phone, gives Clint his best are-you-kidding-me look, and asks, slightly pointed, "why do you smell like jellybeans?"

Clint makes a considering noise as he pulls at his jacket, turning one of the pockets outward. "Oh!" he exclaims. "I must have left my jellybeans in here," he pauses making a mournful sound in the back of his throat. "Damn. They're all melted."

Peter pretends that Hawkeye isn't pouting over candy, he also valiantly pretends that he didn't used to have crushes on The Avengers as a whole, because when he thinks about that something like second-hand embarrassment for his past-self and grief for his current-self war inside of him for dominance.

Peter gestures to Clint, who is still picking at the glob of rainbow in his pocket. "I am essentially a high-end babysitter with a better title, and slightly better pay, you cannot convince me otherwise."

"I was wonderin' why you smelt like an Umpa Lumpa threw up on ya," Bucky says from Peter's other side. Making a face when Clint pulls off a bit of candy and throws it at him.

"I don't understand you man," Sam shakes his head at the archer, ignoring Clint and Bucky's squabbling. "One second you're all kickass and the next you're like a wild five-year-old."

Clint scoffs at Sam, even with Bucky's hand fisted in his short hair. "A kickass five-year-old," he defends, and then Bucky shoves some of the jellybean-mess into Clint's spluttering mouth.

"Your job is awesome," Johnny snickers as he walks over, and it's all Peter can do not to hit him.

"My job is the worst," Peter hisses, because he may be half a room away from where the rest of the Avengers and Fantastic Four are talking, but he isn't delusional enough to think them above eavesdropping.

"You get to boss around the Avengers," Johnny says, draping an arm over Peter's shoulders, leaning heavily against him, and at any other time that would be okay, but Peter has something called a secret identity, so he lets himself get thrown off balance by Johnny's added weight, before stepping away.

"Yeah maybe," Peter says, shoving Johnny off of him. "More like I have to trick or bribe them into doing any actual work. Can you imagine if I tried to give Tony Stark orders?" Peter whispers incredulously, "not gonna happen."

Johnny looks a little surprised when Peter restores their personal space, but he recovers quickly, charming smile back in place, eyes twinkling. "Hey, you wanna grab a burger after this? I don't think we've hung out since-"

Peter discreetly stomps on Johnny's foot. "Shhh," he hushed him, earning a glare from Johnny. "I don't usually hang out with superheroes off the clock Mr. Storm, but thanks," he says, giving Johnny the fakest smile he can manage before walking away.

Peter pulls out his phone as he makes it to the other side of the room, dodging Clint as he tries to ruffle Peter's hair and ignoring Natasha's eyes on him as he weaves his way over to the bathroom.

Pepher- Dude! Secret ID here!
Pepher- Peter Parker doesn't hang out with Johnny Storm

John-dee- nah. I'm pretty sure he's my best fiend
John-dee- and we hang out alll the time
John-dee- or we used 2
John-dee- before he got all busy
John-dee- also U owe me new toes
John-dee- mine R all bruised noww

Pepher- Dude. Quit sending everything separately.
You're blowing up my phone.

John-dee- I
John-dee- will
John-dee- never
John-dee- stop
John-dee-.
John-dee-I
John-dee-have
John-dee-unlimited
John-dee-texting
John-dee-and
John-dee-I
John-dee- will
John-dee- use
John-dee- it
John-dee- the
John-dee- way
John-dee- god
John-dee- intended
John-dee- !
John-dee- !
John-dee- !

Pepher- god please STOP
Pepher- I have learned my lesson. Now shut up.

John-dee- well since U asked so nicely

Pepher- you aren't discreet at all
Pepher- the avengers don't know I'm into bugs.

John-dee- seriously dude. Into bugs? Is that what we're callling it now?

Pepher- this is my Starkphone, gotta be careful

John-dee- well U aren't discreet either..
John-dee- hiding out in the bathroom
John-dee- what is this a stupid rom-com?

Pepher- no worse. This is my life.

John-dee- U could always just tell'em

Pepher- yeah and then I'll still be their assistant and work for S.I. and be one of the Avengers and we'll live happily ever after.

John-dee- the sarcasm is literally leaking out of my phone
John-dee- ur already like 90% sure they know anyways
John-dee- it wouldn't matter

Pepher- I'm now 96% sure. Steve made a comment about Spidey the other day that kind of maybe alluded to them knowing.
Pepher- also. It would matter, because not being sure if they know, and being positive that they know are totally two different things.

John-dee- it's 4% Pete.
John-dee- I don't think much would change.

Pepher- yeah well, we've been playing this weird game of pretend for two years and I don't think I wanna change that now. At least not until I have to.

John-dee- ur life gives me a headache
John-dee- U have like a triple identity
John-dee- it's excessive

Pepher- says the guy with like 5 cars

John-dee- if U don't come out of the bathroom soon they're gonna send someone in there to help

Pepher- god forbid

John-dee- wanna grab burgers later?

Pepher- yeah meet you after patrol.

John-dee- (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

See this wasn't supposed to be Peter's life.

When Peter first applied to Stark Industries at the whopping age of sixteen, he had been hoping for an unpaid internship. However, when Tony Stark saw his grades along with his IQ, and his knack for science and all things tech- Peter had been brought on right away.

For a while there, Peter had been down in Research and Development which had been perfect, building tech and bouncing ideas off of other people was totally up Peter's alley. Until in the middle of his senior year of high school, a seventeen-year-old Peter had been offered a 'promotion' of sorts.

Tony Stark's Personal Lab Assistant.

Peter had jumped at the idea, starstruck (or should he say Star(k)struck) and far too naïve to Tony Stark's evil ways. He'd of course said yes, and Peter bounced back and forth from R&D to Tony's private workshop, in what he would now call foolish bliss.

The thing is, Tony Stark is a whirlwind of a man, it doesn't take much to get swept away in the excitement and chaos of it all. And honestly, if you asked Peter how he came to be the Assistant to the Avengers, he'd tell you he had been tricked or bribed- or a combination of both.

"They torture me Gwen," Peter whines, overdramatic from his place draped over a desk, one arm slung over his eyes the other hanging off to the side.

Gwen pokes Peter on the nose. "I know," she says, not really paying attention.

This has become tradition now, Peter comes down to R&D to have lunch with Gwen, venting to her about the sorrows of working for inconsiderate Superheroes- all the while she doesn't shove in his face how wonderful it is down here in the land of Research and Development.

Gwen has dubbed it as 'Therapy Hour'.

"I am too good for them," Peter says into the crook of his arm.

Gwen turns the page of her book, "far too good."

"I should quit," Peter goes on, "why haven't I quit?"

Gwen takes a bite of her Pad Thai, "because you'd live in a box," she says, mouth full.

Peter glares up at the ceiling, "boxes can be nice," he says, "I could live in a fancy refrigerator box."

Gwen kicks at the bottom of Peter's dangling shoe. "You dream big Parker," she says, turning yet another page.

"I could transfer back down here," Peter goes on, imagining days filled with experimentation and science instead of following around a bunch of misfit heroes and trying to keep them from causing another public scandal.

"Your pay is way better," Gwen says, she sounds disinterested, probably because they've had variations of this exact same conversation too many times to count.

"Dang," Peter mumbles. "I hate it when you're right."

"You must hate me a lot then."

"All the time."

"I apologize for the interruption," Jarvis calls from the ceiling and Peter groans loudly, smacking a hand to his face in response. "But it seems that Thor has caused a kitchen fire and requires assistance."

Peter sits up so fast he almost spills Gwen's food, he catches it more on instinct than anything else. "How is this my problem?" he asks no one in particular, or maybe everyone, perhaps he's just asking the universe in general. "How is this an aspect of my job? Also! Why is Thor in the kitchen?! I know Sam didn't give him his kitchen privileges back after the last incident."

He heaves a sigh so heavy he feels it in his bones, rolling to his feet as he ignores Gwen's snickering from behind him, he feels like a disgruntled parent- How is this his life? Why is this his life? What did he do to deserve this?

"Tell'em I'll be there in two minutes," Peter mumbles as he makes his way back to the elevator.

Peter's main job title is Tony Stark's Personal Assistant, which he quickly learned actually means Assistant to the Avengers as a whole. (and lord if he had only known that when he took on the job…idiot that he was, he probably still would have taken it)

So his job goes from organizing fundraisers and talk show appearances to dealing with the board of directors and numerous donors (he and Pepper have become close over the years, bonding over their shared suffering) Peter sort of deals with whatever is thrown at him, and when he first started out that had scared the crap out of Peter, but at this point he's more resigned than anything.

The nice thing about his job, however, is that Peter gets to help oversee the projects down in Research and Development, he goes down there every Wednesday and just gets to tinker with the team and give input before Tony makes an appearance on Thursday to give his seal of approval- it's by far Peter's favorite part of the job.

Unfortunately, Harley also works in R&D.

"Y'know," Peter drawls, sticking the tiny spoon into his frozen yogurt before popping it into his mouth. "I am technically your boss."

Harley scoffs, soldering iron in hand, goggles over his eyes. "No you're not. You're the boss's whipping boy." He tosses the iron down, the smell of burnt metal doesn't really register in Peter's brain anymore, he doubts it does in Harley's either.

Harley picks up his own frozen yogurt, (Peter's buying today, his punishment for losing the bet) before he says, mouth full, "and I have the boss wrapped around my finger- so technically I am your boss."

Peter raises an eyebrow, scrunching his nose in protest. "You do not have Tony wrapped around your finger," he argues weakly, he cannot imagine having any power over Tony Stark and his iron will. (Pun intended)

Harley raises a skeptical eyebrow, swallowing his bite before he says, "I'm eighteen and don't answer to the head of the department, only person who oversees me is the Boss Man himself."

Peter pulls his legs off of the workbench he's sitting on, his converses squelching against the metal as he sits up, blinking at the other boy for a moment. "Dang it," he says, and then, "wanna switch lives?"

"You could not pay me enough to take on your job," Harley says, spinning around in an office chair.

Peter leans forward, "my benefits are amazing," he says in a pleading voice.

Harley shakes his head, eyes closed, spoon hanging out of his mouth. "No amount of benefits could outweigh the negatives, sorry Pete."

Peter sighs, slumps back onto the workbench, "how'd I get roped into this in the first place?"

"You're too trusting, dude," Harley tells him, "Tony asked me to be his lab assistant back when I first moved to New York, but I know a trap when I see one."

Peter stares at Harley with something close to admiration, "you dodged one heck of a bullet," he says over a breath, letting himself go boneless.

Harley kicks Peter in the ankle, Peter tries to kick him back but misses when Harley scoots the chair away. "Yeah well, I know how Tony Stark works. And I'm fine steering clear of that black hole."

"Pepper," Peter whispers, frantic, one of his hands flapping at his side as he sneaks into her office, shutting the door quietly behind himself. "You have to help me," he pleads as he approaches her desk.

"What did they do now?" she asks, leaning back and lacing her fingers together.

Peter's too jittery to sit in one of the chairs so he paces back and forth, tugging at his jacket sleeves with hyper hands. "Y'know how the team is scheduled to appear on 'ellen'?" he asks, to which Pepper nods. "They are insisting that I go with them to California," he whisper-shouts, wishing he had worn his glasses today, so he'd have something to fiddle with.

Pepper purses her lips, "you might like California Peter, you could look at it as a free vacation, I'm sure Tony would give you a few hours to sightsee."

Peter slaps his palms to Pepper's desk, she doesn't even blink. "This wouldn't be a vacation," Peter hisses, "a vacation is the Avengers being 2,798 miles across the country while I lay in pajamas all day and eat bonbons until I throw up."

Pepper raises an eyebrow, "sounds fattening," she says.

Peter nods vigorously, "yes and it's how I planned to spend the next three days, but now they are forcing me to go with them!"

Pepper pats Peter's hand still clutching to her desk. "I'm sure you can eat bonbons on the private jet," she says.

Peter throws up his hands, exasperated and betrayed, "Pepper-Pepper, you are supposed to be on my side."

Pepper gives him a sort of what-can-you-do smile, her shoulders coming up in a shrug. "I'm on the company's side, and if you go with the Avengers there's a 30% less chance of disaster occurring."

Peter pulls a hand down his face, "why do I have to be responsible for superheroes? I'm not even a responsible person in general!"

Pepper nods knowingly, "when you're with them they're too busy teasing you to cause much trouble anywhere else."

Peter lets himself flop down into one of Pepper's too squishy chairs, his head thumping the back. "I am essentially a sacrificial lamb," he bemoans, eyes up on the ceiling as he resigns himself to his fate.

"And we at Stark Industries appreciate your sacrifice Peter," Pepper says, not sounding sorry at all.

I needed something easy and familiar to write, what's better than going back to my writing roots- Spidey and the Avengers? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Please leave a comment they give me life. ;)