Magic //Peter Parker x Reader

What Are We?

Wong stands at the head of a table, goblet raised to the students seated before him, which in addition to you, and Michelle include Eddie Brock, Brad Davis, Ned Leeds and a few others.

"To Midgards best and brightest!"

Michelle exchanges a wry glance with you, and you notice one setting is empty, Peter's seat. He said he was coming, and it wasn't like him to be late...

Ned stares hopelessly at the vast array of forks, knives and spoons placed beside his plate, "Which one do I use for the soup?" Ned says nervously.

You laugh and hand him the most normal looking spoon. You look up, only to receive a wink from Eddie.

"So tell me, Eddie. See much of your father these days?" Wong asks.

Eddie frowns, "No, sir. He's been serving the Minister. Although I'm supposed to see him over the holiday."

"Well, be sure to give him my best. What about your uncle, Mr. Davis? Working on anything new? For those of you who don't know, Brad's uncle invented the Wolfsbane Potion."

Brad shrugs, adjusting his emerald and silver tie, "I'm not sure. My dad and him don't get along."

"And you, Miss Jones? What does your family do in the Muggle world?"

Michelle raises her eyebrows, "My mom...well uh, my mom is a dentist. She's tend to people's teeth."

"Amazing. And is that considered a dangerous profession?" Wong says.

"Um, No. Though, a boy did bite my mother once. She needed ten stitches."

There is an uncomfortable silence for a moment, as no one besides you, Ned and Michelle understand exactly what a dentist is. As Wong nods, the door groans and everyone turns.

"Mister Parker! Come in, come in."

"Sorry, I'm not ordinarily late—" he says flustered, his hair disheveled, his collar unbuttoned, and his tie loose.

"No matter. You're just in time for dessert." Wong waves causally.

As Peter moves to his seat, Michelle whispers to you, "Look at his neck."

You glance at his neck just before he buttons his collar, a faint purple hickey.

_

"Thank you everyone, for a very stimulating evening. We'll have to do it again." Wong closes the door, turns, sends a floor lamp wobbling.

You swiftly catch it and place it right side up, he glances at you.

"Oh. Marvel."

"Sorry, sir, I was just admiring your hourglass." You smile softly.

"Ah, yes. A very intriguing object. The sand runs in accordance to the quality of the conversation. When it is stimulating, the sands run slow. When it is not, well..."

"Oh then, I think I'll be going." You laugh.

"Nonsense. You have nothing to fear. As for some of your classmates, well, let's just say, they're unlikely to make the shelf." Wong chuckles.

Wong steps to a makeshift bar, and begins to construct a drink.

You cock an eyebrow, "The shelf, sir?"

Wong gestures to the photographs you'd seen earlier when you'd first met him, but now they're ranged like a menagerie atop a low bookcase. Once again, the pictures of your mother are up front.

"Anyone who aspires to be anyone hopes to end up here. Then again...you are already someone aren't you, ______?" Wong says.

You flinch, "I don't really know how to answer that, sir."