Peter Parker Gets Sick Way Too Much For His Own Good

It Had To Be the Potatoes

<Hey y'all, happy thanksgiving! In honor of thanksgiving here's a fun little sickfic for poor Peter Parker, who just wanted to enjoy some sweet potato casserole...
(Note: this is not compliant with any of the movies- I.e no one is dead)
Anyway, please check out my latest story, Death to Life. I have a lot of it written already (outside of Wattpad) but I haven't worked on it in awhile. I'd love to finish the story, and so I'd appreciate any reads and feedback on that. I really like the story idea, and I hope to maybe publish the book for real if I can finish it.  Thanks!>

Peter woke up and took a deep breath, smiling happily. It was finally thanksgiving, and he LOVED thanksgiving. It was the one time of the year when he could eat his body weight in potatoes. Mmm, buttery mashed potatoes and sweet potato casserole all glazed with marshmallows...he couldn't remember the last time he had had potatoes, it was definitely before May went on her crazy diet where she didn't eat starch, and he was so excited to have them again. And turkey...ooh. Tony's deep fried turkey had to be filled with something sinful for how juicy and amazing it was. And don't even get him started on Wanda's pumpkin pie. He would eat an entire one if he could.

"Peter?" FRIDAY spoke from the ceiling. Mr. Barnes has asked for your assistance in putting together the broccoli casserole."

"Okay, tell him I'm coming!" Peter was already out of bed, throwing a nerdy science pun tee on and half pulling, half hopping into jeans as he walked. Last but not least, he grabbed his turkey hat off his dresser and placed it on his head. Someone had to get into the holiday spirit.

He ran downstairs, almost colliding with Thor, who clapped him heartily on the back. "Watch out there, you wouldn't want to spill the Bjviell would you?"

"No sir, Mr. Thor! I'll be more careful!" Bjviell, was a spicy Asgardian dish made of—well, he didn't exactly know what it was made of, but considering that the last time he had asked Thor for a recipe it had consisted of "boiled blood fish", maybe that was for the better. Anyway, it was delicious.

He found Bucky and helped him crush outrageous quantities of Cheez-It crackers. (Because this wasn't just a normal thanksgiving, this was an Avengers thanksgiving, and they had like 60 people coming, and almost all of them had superhuman appetites). They plopped the casserole into the oven and sat back to wait. At 2 o'clock, it was finally time to dig in. Peter's stomach was rumbling.

They sat down to dinner, Peter in between May and Bruce. They all shared what they were thankful for, which was mostly some variation of "no Thanos" and "being alive." Even so, as amazing as it was to have thanksgiving with the world's greatest superheroes (I mean seriously, how many sixteen year olds could say they were personally invited to Tony Stark's thanksgiving, or could say they had asked Doctor Strange to "please pass the potatoes") he needed to hurry up and eat. That sweet potato casserole was literally calling his name. When they finally were given the signal to "dig in," Peter jumped at the chance. He piled food on to his plate, even with May's warning look to not eat too much food. He wouldn't, seriously his metabolism was like five times faster than a normal human and this was the one day of the year when gluttony was expected. Oh, it was all heavenly. Each Avenger had been put in charge of one aspect of thanksgiving, and man, had they done a good job! Peter ate almost everything, with the exception of Peter Quill's "spaghetti." One, who brings spaghetti to thanksgiving, and two, there was definitely something um, moving in there. He stayed far away from that, but everything else he loaded up on. Especially the sweet potato casserole. All of Carol's powers had combined to make the glory that was sweet potato casserole. The marshmallows were perfect, and ooh, the flavors were so delectable.

After waaaaay too much food, and a whole lot of cleanup, Peter was sitting on the couch watching The Grinch with Steve and May and Tony and a few others. Peter swallowed hard. His throat felt weird, and his stomach was starting to hurt. He probably just ate too much, but was that even possible for him? Absentmindedly, he scratched his arm, but that only seemed to irritate his skin. He looked down. His arms were sort of red and patchy in some places. This was really weird. Peter pushed himself up from the couch and went into the bathroom. He took off his shirt, as the itchiness had spread all over his back. Suddenly, he leaned over the toilet and heaved, bringing up his stuffing and gravy for the second time around (much better the first time, he decided.) He vomited for several minutes, proof that he had just eaten too much.  But when nothing more would come up, he still didn't feel better. His throat was really hurting, and he was having a hard time pulling air into his lungs. "Hey FRIDAY?" He managed to croak out.

"Yes, Peter? I am calling Mr. Stark and Doctors Banner and Strange now. You appear to be in distress."

"No kidding," Peter mumbled, but he couldn't get the words out all the way. His brain was foggy, and he didn't really know what happened next.

Doctor Strange practically ran into the bathroom, Tony and Bruce hot on his heels. As soon as he saw Peter and the angry red rash covering his back, he took action. He smoothly uncapped the epipen he kept in his pocket at all times and pushed it into Peter's thigh. They took him down to the Medbay and administered more medications to make sure the symptoms went away. May of course was worried, but she had been around the tower long enough to fully trust Strange and Bruce as they worked on Peter. They assured her he would be okay, and within an hour, the drugs had seemed to take effect and the rash was disappearing from his skin. Peter was finally able to breathe normally again, and he woke up.

"What happened?" He asked nervously, as waking up in the Medbay had been the last thing he wanted to do on thanksgiving.

"Well, Pete, you're not going to want to hear this, but you had a severe allergic reaction. We ran a blood test to figure out what caused the reaction, and it turns out you have a really bad sweet potato allergy."

Instead of looking scared, Peter just slapped a hand over his face. "Oh no! It just had to be sweet potatoes didn't it? Nooooooo!"