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[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (ix!)

title: right as rain, soft as snow

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: almost sexy times but no sexy times

word count: 4,684

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues. 

              He waited for you at the airport, just like he said he would. He waited for you at your hangar and smiled when he saw you walk out, and even though you had only been apart for a few days, it felt like years since you’d seen each other. And you missed him. And when you finally closed the distance in between each other you would drop your one and only small suitcase to hug him, smiling as he wrapped you up in his arms and held you close to him. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and letting your cheek rest against his. Despite your bruises and bandaged wounds from the day before, you let him hold you tightly, because somehow, him hugging against the aggravated abrasions made it hurt less rather than more.

               He pulled away slightly and gave you a kiss on the top of your head, looking down at you and loosening his arms around you. He furrowed his eyebrows, bringing a hand up to your face, feeling your cheek. “Did you get into a fight, or something?” He chuckled, and with confusion you eventually realized that someone in your fight yesterday must have hit you seriously hard for a bruise to still be there. It might have been that Panther. He could have broken your cheekbone. Your injuries set themselves, thanks to the serum and you had grown used to the pain that came with a broken bone.

               You brought a hand up over his, gently touching the tender area. “I must have.” You laughed, acting like you didn’t remember, and he laughed back, although the worry was still present on his face. “I tripped over my luggage in the hotel room. I hit the ground.” With a quick motion with the flat palm of your hand towards your face, you mimicked your face hitting the ground, although it never really had. You did get hit pretty hard, though.

               He nodded softly, seemingly believing you. “Wanna head home?” he asked, and you nodded your head slowly. He took your heavy luggage with surprising strength, and you could only furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he lifted it easily with one hand. Of course, you could too, but you were Charge. Someone had accidentally taken your suitcase off the overhead thinking it was theirs, and they visibly struggled with it – a grown man struggled with your one suitcase. Couldn’t blame him, it was laced with various metals and technology to keep your suit safe. Could be used as a shield if need be. But Peter picked it up easily.

               You pursed your lips together, feeling your heart racing slightly, but you decided to drop it. Maybe Peter was just stronger than he seemed. You walked beside him, nudging him every now and then as he asked you all about your trip. He mentioned briefly that he had never been to Europe, although he really wished that he could go. He hailed a taxi once the two of you reached the outside of JFK airport, and he opened the door for you. He asked the driver to pop the trunk and you watched him easily place your luggage inside with one hand and slam the trunk shut. He came over and slid into the seat next to you, smiling at you before telling the driver his address.

               Silently he slipped his hand into yours, smiling his dumb goofy smile over at you. “Tell me about it. How was the funeral?”

               “Funeral-y.” You smiled and he laughed – surprised because you had managed to make a joke. That was your first funeral. “The cathedral was beautiful.” You murmured, staring off into space as you thought about it. “The stained glass windows were gorgeous; the entire building was stone. It was really a beautiful place.”

               “Did you go anywhere else?”

               You shrugged. I went to Bucharest you thought, And I chased after the Winter Soldier. “No, not really,” You responded, smiling, the guilt at lying to him running cold through your veins. “I walked around a little. But I wanted to get home soon.”

               He smiled over at you understandingly. “I wanted you to come home soon, too.” You scooted over slightly and let your head rest against his shoulder, closing your eyes and taking a deep, exhausted breath. Using your powers and energy like you did yesterday always tired you out in the following days, and this time was no different.

               You could feel the bruises along your ribcage ache with each small motion that you made, taking a deep breath through your nose and trying your best to feel the healing rather than the ache. That cat had done a number on you – he could hit surprisingly hard. The pain In your calf hadn’t completely gone away, and now there would be lovely hole-shaped scars along it. That would show beautifully underneath your dress during the banquet. You decided that you didn’t care.

               You had fallen asleep on his shoulder the entire ride back. But he did not wake you. He just held your hand and gently rested his head on top of yours, almost dozing off himself. The ride was not especially long – a little under thirty minutes. When the cab had pulled up to Peter’s apartment building he nudged you awake gently, to which you barely opened your eyes to. He smiled and laughed, apologizing to the driver before getting out, removing your luggage and walking around to the other side of the taxi to take you out. He glanced down to the luggage which sat on the sidewalk, and then to you, deciding to make two trips and hope that nobody would steal the suitcase. Or… He bent down quickly, moving the back piece of fabric away from its Velcro holds to reveal straps, like a backpack. He knew some luggage bags had this feature, but they were rare. Especially since this one was heavy.

               He quickly pulled the suitcase over his shoulders, standing and reaching into the taxi to pick you up and scoop you out into his arms, where you stayed mostly asleep all the way up to Peter’s apartment. He had to bang his toe against the door for Aunt May to let him in, and she laughed at the sight of the two of you. She opened the door all the way and took a step back as to give Peter enough room to let you in, and sideways he slowly stepped in – careful not to hit any part of you on the threshold. With the suitcase on his back, he just barely squeezed through.

               He walked immediately to his room and set you down on the bed, to which you stirred slightly.

               “Mm? Peter?”

               “Shh, it’s okay, ______. Go back to sleep.”

               “Mmm.” You hummed your agreement and rolled over, letting him pull the covers over you. He pulled the suitcase from off his back, staring at it, feeling something tingling inside him to open it and look. To see what made it so god damn heavy. It was almost as if his spider senses were just itching to crawl inside that suitcase. If he had caved in to that feeling, he would have known then and there that you were Charge. You were careless – you had just stuffed your suit in haphazardly into the case, closing it without even bothering to change the code. He would have known. But he was a gentleman enough not to snoop.

               He backed out of the room quietly, closing his door behind him and plopping on the couch beside his Aunt. He sighed deeply, and the two looked over at each other with a small smile. He rested his head against her shoulder, closing his eyes.

               “You got it bad, don’t you, Peter?” She asked teasingly, ruffling his hair with the hand that wasn’t holding her coffee mug.

               “Yeah, Aunt May.” He whispered, “I do.”

 ---------

                You woke up a couple hours later, feeling much more refreshed than you had before. Sleep was something you desperately needed after you used your electricity – it was almost like you were a battery that had to recharge. Honestly, you probably were. You had no idea what other messed up shit they did to you in the desert.

               You sat up slowly, running a hand through your hair that was starting to feel dirty and stiff. You needed a shower, and desperately.

               You brought your hands down to your lap, staring at your gloves. You took a deep, deep breath and sighed, plopping back down onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling. You closed your eyes, replaying everything that had happened in the days previous in your head. Where you went wrong, how you could have done better. How you could have used less force. You wonder how many people you accidentally killed yesterday, fighting for a fugitive that Steve trusted. You sighed again, forcing breath through your teeth and pressing your palms into your eyes, trying to force the memories out of your head.

               So what if they died. Shot into your head. You sat up quickly, furrowing your eyebrows, eyes wide at the shock of the thought. You were fighting. You were bred to kill. Kill. Kill. You covered your ears, squeezing your eyes shut and taking deep breaths.

               Get out of my head. You shot back, challenging; waiting for a reply, but got nothing in return. Maybe you were just imagining it.  You had to be imagining it.

               Please. You begged yourself, please just be imagining it.

               Just as you were about to relax and move your hands from their vice grip on the sides of your head, you felt a dip in the bed beside you, and hands on your shoulders, pulling you close. You opened your eyes to see Peter, concerned as ever, wrapping an arm around you as you slowly removed your hands from your ears.

               “Are you okay?” He asked softly, rubbing your arm, “Did you have another nightmare?”

               A living one, yeah. You thought, but slowly nodded your head with a smile. “Yeah. I’m okay, though.”

               He smiled back at you, but still didn’t let you go, holding you close and resting his head on top of yours. You stayed like this for a few moments in silence, relishing in the feeling of someone caring.

               “Want to come outside and sit on the couch with me and Aunt May?”

               You looked up to him, nodding with a small smile. “Yeah. Sure. Actually – can we watch the news? Did you hear about what happened in Romania?”

               Peter raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, just heard about it actually. Come on, we’ll go turn the TV on.”

               The two of you stood from your spots on the bed, walking out of Peter’s room, watching as Aunt May turned her head to look.

               “Hey, sweetie!” She chimed, and you smiled back at her warmly. Happy. “Jetlag really got you, huh? Good thing you slept it off. Was that your first trip out of the country, all the way overseas?” You nodded to both of her questions, sitting down on the couch on the end, with Aunt May on the other, and Peter in the middle.

               Peter picked up the remote and turned on the TV, quickly flipping to the news channel, where your story was being covered again. Helicopter footage of you, specifically, dueling it out with the Black Panther, as it seemed everyone was calling him. Now that you were watching footage of yourself sparring, it was easier to see mistakes that you made – faults in your stance and stutters in your swings. You felt a throbbing reminder of each bruise where he hit you. And hard. Your rib still hurt from where he broke it, but it was healing. You grimaced when you watched the punch that broke your cheekbone and fractured your jaw slightly – watching yourself stumble from the pain but manage to turn around and keep fighting.

               You noticed Peter looking over at you in the following moments the punch fell, and for a moment you wondered if he was starting to figure things out – until he turned back to the TV. Upon pressing down on your face, there was probably only a little bit of redness there. No evidence that you had gotten hit that hard. Or that you had gotten hit at all.

               The footage was jumping all around – it was probably the most effective loop to keep people watching. It cut to you with the barring, swinging and jabbing, the metal almost glowing with your electricity.

               It cut to four people – two women and two men – sitting around a desk and talking about the incident. More like debating; they must have been important people.

               “What does this mean? Why has Charge suddenly switched sides?”

               “How could you possibly say ‘switched sides,’ Ms. Lynn? Just because she’s fighting with Captain American does not mean she still hasn’t broken any laws. Are we not going to forget about the Sokovian Accords that were passed hours prior? Captain America was told not to take action, and he did.”

               The footage cut back to you, taken from a chest cam of one of the SWAT men – at your advance, blocks and quick and easy take down. You saw and heard Aunt May shiver. “The look in her eyes gives me the shakes.” She murmured, and staring into your own eyes, you felt the same.

               They continued to talk over the fighting footage.

               “How can we know that this is even the real Charge? We all assumed Charge had been killed when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. This could easily be a decoy.”

               “No way. Look at her. That’s Charge, as if back from the dead.”

               “We can’t forget what she did in New York. She fought with Spider-Man. She saved all those people that night.”

               Footage of you in the subway, taken from a phone, fighting and taking down all of those men, practically by yourself. Then you carrying that little boy, Trey, out of the subway. His mother hugging you tightly. Thanking you for saving her son.

               “She saved that little boy. She held him in his arms. The old Charge would not have even blinked over the loss of a child.”

               “Well, obviously, she’s changed. Hopefully for the better. But that does not justify her actions in past years, and just because she’s fighting with the Captain? That doesn’t mean anything. We can’t possibly know what her plan is. We can’t possibly know what she could do. What she’s capable of. Are we just all going to forget the London attacks?”

               The picture of you, katanas drawn, staring up at that helicopter without any fear. Only malice. Murder. On top of that building that you had blown up hours later. And killed hundreds. You closed your eyes tightly, feeling your heart beginning to race.

               “But do you really think she can be blamed?”

               “What in the world are you saying, Johnson?”

               “We know now that what she was doing was because she was under S.H.I.E.L.D. After S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, it seems like she’s making better decisions. Saving people instead of killing them. What I’m saying is – she was forced to do what she did. It was her job; her sole purpose. We have no idea what they could have put her through if she failed or worse; if she refused.”

               “We also know that the Winter Soldier was the work of HYDRA. Does that mean we’ve forgiven him, as well?”

               “Well-“

               You glanced over to see Peter fidgeting in his seat. “I don’t know.” He murmured, shaking his head, glancing over to Aunt May.

               “I know.” She replied, “I don’t really know either.”

               “I don’t think that she should be trusted. Can be trusted. She’s too dangerous. Did you see all the shit she did? Messed up. Someone like that just… They’ll never get any better. Once a monster, always a monster. It’s all some act. Has to be.”

               You could feel your heart twisting at his words. You wondered if Peter would be able to say the same things if he knew that you were Charge. You wondered if it would make his words even more hateful.

               The news report continued, but all you could think about was what Peter said. Were you really just a monster? Was there really no way anyone could help you? That you would always be a killer? You shuffled in your seat, suddenly extremely uncomfortable. You felt suddenly very paranoid and unsafe. Your heart pounded within your ribcage.

               “____?” You glanced over, and both Peter and May were staring at you with serious concern. “Babe, are you okay?”

               The fact that he called you ‘babe’ made the guilt and fear so much worse. He didn’t know. He would never understand. He would hate you if he ever found out.

               He placed his hand on your arm and it took everything within you not to pull away immediately. “Yeah, yeah I’m – I’m okay. I’m okay.” At some point you realized you were trying to persuade yourself more than Peter. “I think I should just go home. And sleep the rest of the lag off, you know?”

               You stood from the couch, and the slightly heartbroken look on Peter’s face hurt you even more. “Okay,” he murmured, nodding his head slowly, “I’ll walk you home-“

               “No.” You immediately cut off, and he looked even more worried, but you tried your best to play it off quickly. “It’s okay, I’ll make it myself. You’re so relaxed and comfortable – stay here with Aunt May. Thank you for letting me stay so often, by the way.”

               “Of course, honey – come over any time.” Aunt May said, her voice also soft and careful. God, for them you must have been like a walking landmine. You rubbed your hands over the needle scars on your upper arms, taking a deep breath and forcing a smile. You lowered your arms, despite how difficult it was.

               “I’m okay, really. I’ll see you later, Peter. Or maybe at school tomorrow. Monday, right?”

               “Oh, yeah – I totally forgot today was Monday. If you need help with homework or anything, just call me and I’ll come over. Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

               “Yeah, Peter, it’s okay. I promise.” You smiled and headed back to his room, grabbing your luggage and picking it up with one hand. Peter furrowed his eyebrows at you – he must have been shocked. It was seriously heavy, as he remembered, and even though he could pick it up easily, he was Spider-Man, and you were… ______. Of course, neither of you knew the fact that you were both seriously strong. Equally strong, most likely – but seeing Peter shocked made you immediately have to act like it was heavy. You placed it down in front of the door, pulling up the small handle so you could roll it.

               Peter stood, that heartbroken look still in his eyes. Like you were leaving him. “Please, let me walk you home.” He stood in front of you, taking one of your hands in his. “Please.”

               You crumbled under his gaze – you had to lower your eyes in shame. What was that look in his eyes? You had no idea. You had never seen it before.

               “Okay.” You whispered, nodding your head and smiling up to him. “Okay. Come on, let’s go.” You turned towards the couch. “Goodbye, Aunt May. Thank you – see you soon.”

               “Bye, sweetie.” She called gently, waving with the hand that wasn’t holding her coffee mug. You waved back, smiling, and walked out the door, Peter grabbing the handle of your suitcase and rolling it out behind you.

               You walked mostly in silence, even when you made it to the sidewalk and headed in the direction of your building. You with your gloved hands in your pockets, as if hiding them in shame, and Peter silently rolling the case behind you. The only sound between the two of you was the rolling of the wheels against the pavement.

               You eventually made if to your apartment, the both of you looking up the steps and at the door. Waiting for you. Peter and you turned towards each other, and you slowly took your hands out of your pockets. Peter took the opportunity and gently seized your hands in his, bringing you close and resting his forehead against yours. You closed your eyes, letting him, and holding his hands back tightly.

               You opened your eyes, and Peter was looking at you so intently, so intensely, that you had to actually try to hold his gaze and not look away. You had never been great with reading body language. But something in his eyes told you, almost as if he were speaking directly to you: Don’t walk away from me. Please. Don’t forget me.

               I won’t. You closed your eyes, pressing your head further against him, trying your best to tell him without the words you couldn’t seem to just get out: I could never leave you. Not willingly.

               He let go of one of your hands, and you opened your eyes to see what was wrong, not ready to leave him. His hand was on your face, cupping it, but you hadn’t opened your eyes in time to see him moving. You flinched away, moving instinctively from a hit, shutting your eyes and jumping like a god damned kicked little puppy, and you hated yourself for doing it. You opened your eyes slowly and saw Peter staring at you with such a sadness in his eyes – because you flinched. Not because you flinched from him, but because you flinched at all.

               “______...” He whispered, shaking his hand softly, “What happened to you? What did you go through?”

               And suddenly tears were welling in your eyes at the very thought of telling him. You’d come full circle in why you were so afraid in the first place. He couldn’t know. He never would know. Fat tears started to fall and you sniffled. Your lip began to shake from trying to hold them back. “I’m sorry…” you whimpered, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth. He immediately enveloped you in one of the warmest and biggest hugs of your life – you hadn’t had many. He held you close and tightly as you tried to hold your tears back, shushing you and rocking the both of you side to side.

               “Please don’t be sorry. Please.” He murmured gently, holding you so tightly, his own eyes shut. You sniffled and hiccupped into his shoulder, holding the tears back as hard as you could. And just as you were starting to suck it up and get rid of the tears, he said: “Don’t be sorry for not being ready. I’m sorry for pushing you. I love you.”

               You broke, sobbing and shaking in his arms, leaning fully onto him and just… letting it out. You suddenly felt weak and so, so tired. Your legs gave out on you, and you slowly began to sink, but Peter was there to catch you, just like he always was, just like he always would be. He held you tightly and slowly sank with you to the stairs, where the both of you sat, you still buried in his arms. You slowly pulled away, and the two of you could only look. He brought a hand up to your face again, slower this time, and wiped away your tears with his thumb. You nodded softly, unable to say it. I love you too. You’re the only person that’s ever said that to me. Thank you. Thank you.

               He leaned forward, placing his lips very slowly onto yours, testing the waters, hoping that it was okay and that he wasn’t scaring you. You easily told him you weren’t by leaning forward and meeting him in the middle, bringing your own hands up and into his hair, bringing him closer until he was practically on top of you on the staircase. He pulled away for a moment, wide eyed, glancing around the street. He glanced toward the door and you nodded, the both of you slowly standing. He reached for the suitcase, picking it up and bringing it up the stairs as you unlocked the door.

               He walked in behind you, dropping the suitcase without a care onto the floor and shutting the door behind him. You turned towards him and he was on you in a minute, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close, immediately capturing your lips with his in a hungry kiss.

               It was as if you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. That if you did, the world would fall apart. Your heart was racing – but not in fear or with an adrenaline rush. Your heart beat for another reason that evening. He reached his hands down, cupping his hands under your legs at the crease of your knees and lifting you, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You were taken by surprise for only a moment, and in that moment Peter seemed to be afraid that he had scared you. But you leaned right back down and continued your kiss as if you had never stopped.

               He found his way to your bedroom, gently placing you down on the bed, crawling forward as you crawled back to meet in the middle of the queen sized mattress. You laid back, head on the pillow, and he followed suit, crawling on top of you. He placed his forehead onto yours, staring into your eyes, waiting for your approval. You responded by wrapping your arms around his neck and deepening the kiss. He reached down for your shirt, starting to pull it up – your hand reached down like lightning and grabbed his wrist, stopping him from raising it any farther.

               “Not yet.” You whispered, swallowing down bad memories, and staring back up deep into his eyes. “Just this. Just us.”

               He nodded softly, laying down beside you. You turned towards him, and together you tangled your limbs. You tangled in each other’s bones, holding tightly and kissing slowly. His arms wound around your waist he pulled you closer to him, connecting your foreheads in a break. You stared at each other for a minute or two before continuing your slow, careful kisses.

               This lasted for almost two hours. Just staring, smiling, kissing, holding. Hearts beating. He eventually brought a hand up and ran it through your hair, staring at you with a look in his eyes that you had never seen looking at you before.

               “I should go home.” He whispered softly, moving his eyes downcast for only a moment, “I really don’t want to leave you.”

               “Then don’t.” You responded, taking his lips in another quick, sweet kiss. It amazed you how much you loved the way that felt.

               He grinned in between kisses, laughing softly. “Okay, okay.” He laughed, pulling away from your persistent assault, “Let me call Aunt May and tell her.” You nodded, aiding in untangling yourselves and letting him leave to call her.

               You buried your face into the pillow, taking a deep breath and smiling softly. It was only a few minutes until he returned, quickly removing his jeans before pulling the blanket up from the end of the bed and enveloping the both of you in it. “Don’t forget we have school tomorrow.” He whispered softly, “And the banquet in nine days.”

               “I’m really excited.” You whispered, snuggling into him after quickly removing your bra, closing your eyes.

               “Me too.” He whispered, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tightly, “It’s going to be a lot of fun.” He noticed you were beginning to pass out, and he laughed. “Goodnight, ______.” He whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead.

               You hummed back to him, falling further and further into sleep. And for the first time in a long time, you didn’t wake up screaming.

that took so long im so sorry. ive had a really rough month. but yay first kiss!! love it

tag list: @bangtanjm @143amberrose thekayceenicole@1022bridgetp@littlemsrantsalot @all-the-kings-horses @fallinginthe-void @morduniversum @lisamnieto @lionfart @sparrow1707 @x-elf-boy-x

first part: here!

next part: coming soon!

[lameinserts]

hey so i know this is random but i love ur right as rain soft as snow series. its great and i hope you see it thru to the end bc im kinda (REALLY) invested in it. i guess i just kinda wanted to give u praise bc you really deserve it. keep doing what u do!!

thank you!!!

[lameinserts]

Masterlist

woo more to come

MAZE RUNNER

funny story - i wrote this (insanely long) story before I made this account. So here:

Don’t Let Go

MARVEL

right as rain, soft as snow (spider-man) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (more coming soon! <3)

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part viii!)

title: right as rain, soft as snow

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: straight up tons of action and mentions of funeral

word count: 4,609

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues.

           Getting to London was easy enough. You had purchased a ticket later than Steve so you sat at different spots on the plane, which you probably would have done anyway. No one directly confronted or recognized the hero, but some people pointed and whispered their speculations. He sat more towards the front of coach while you sat in the middle, closing your eyes and holding on to the armrest tightly as you took off. You had only flown once or twice in your life, both times being on the smooth riding quinjet. You were kind of terrified, but you tried your best not to show it – just shut your eyes tight and took deep breaths.

               The woman sitting next to you read her book quietly, but fell asleep almost instantly. You were fine with it. You didn’t feel like striking conversation. The man on the other side of you typed away on his computer, listening to his headphones. He acknowledged you with a small smile but did not say much of anything more.

               You wanted to fall asleep on the flight but you felt like you just couldn’t. The anxiety of returning to Europe was maddening – you had only been to London on missions, but you had taken boats to Europe; very secret boats that stayed under the radar. As Charge you roamed to get to your destination, but you always made it on time. Always.

               Living life under the radar and off the grid was always stressful. You had killed quite a lot of people in London a few years ago. It was what put you on the map. As an international terrorist, a super-villain. You remember returning to your dark hole in Arizona where the men around you would argue about whether the Avengers would try to stop you on your next mission. They had shown up, but you were gone way before they could come for you.

               In London all those years ago, you stared death in the face, stared being caught at right through the men’s eyes in the helicopter. On the roof of that building, katana in either hand, shaking with electricity. They circled you, waiting for your next move, but there was no way that they could have known the size of the explosives that you planted in the building days before. From that helicopter they took the most infamous picture of any villain ever known – staring down death on a building that ceased to exist only an hour later. You had killed so many people that day. When you returned to Arizona, you cried for days.

               Not one government could figure out who you were. Not one.  

               Despite the fear of your arrival into London, Peter somehow creeped right into your mind. Your muscles relaxed and you smiled with a deep breath, closing your eyes and letting your mind drift with the thought of him. How kind he was. How excited you were for his banquet. How much you actually really liked him. You somehow managed to fall asleep, the very feeling of him putting you right to sleep.

               What felt like only minutes later, the woman in the window seat was nudging you gently. You opened your eyes wide with a slight start, glancing around the cabin to see people starting to stand. The plane had landed, and you were in London. Ahead you saw Steve standing, taking a quick glance back at you through his sunglasses. He left the plane, and row after row people followed. You looked around, wondering if anyone knew that they were on the plane with a murderer.

               The two of you had booked the same hotel, but just on different floors. You only had one bag and no carry-on, so you got through customs surprisingly quite quickly. The hotel was only a block away from the airport, which you walked slowly with your eyes trained on the ground ahead. Low profile. You smiled as sweetly as you could at the clerk at the front desk, checking in and receiving your room key-card. You were only on the third floor so you gently trotted up the steps, noting the careless lack of cameras in the stairwell – stop thinking that way. You scolded yourself, closing your eyes tightly and stopping on the steps of the hotel stairwell.

               Is this what that man had meant? You’re feeling it already, aren’t you? His voice rang inside your head, and you brought up a hand to rest on the side of your head, trying to stop the reverb of his disgusting words. Thankfully, after a few moments, the words went away, and you continued up the steps. You unlocked your room and placed your suitcase atop the bed, glancing at the time. It was ten in the morning. You squeezed your eyes shut, thinking to yourself through muddled thoughts. You could take a few hour nap. Then you had to get ready for the funeral. Poor Peggy. Poor Steve. You set an alarm and slipped into the large bed, passing out almost the moment your head hit the pillow, with Peter on your mind.

               You barely remembered waking up and getting ready for the funeral, but you did remember staring into the mirror and really liking the dress that you and Peter had picked out the day before. Was it the day before? You honestly had no idea how the time zones worked. You shrugged your shoulders, brushing your hair, slipping on your shoes (that you borrowed from Nat) and left for the funeral.

               The cathedral was absolutely beautiful. You were in complete and utter awe as you stared around that the gorgeous stained-glass windows, the high candles and sleek stone. You sat towards the back of the Cathedral, and you could see Steve sitting in the front with Sam. Had Sam joined you on the plane ride? You hadn’t noticed.

               You watched a few moments later Steve and a few other men carrying the casket to the front of the cathedral, and the funeral continued. You zoned out for most of it. You had never been to a funeral before, but you did not like it at all. You wondered how many funerals there had to be for that building in London that you took down. You shut your eyes and quickly forced the thought from your head.

               When the funeral had ended, you stood up and discreetly left the cathedral, sitting outside and waiting for all of the bodies – people, stop thinking that way – had left. It had only taken fifteen minutes, and when most, if not all of the people were gone, you walked in to see Steve still standing there, illuminated by the colorful light through the windows. You glanced around once more the quieted Cathedral, listening to your heels step softly on the aisle carpet. You walked up beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, and he looked over to you with a small but sad smile. Together there you stood, taking in the warm air around you and the colored light above. The reds, yellows and blues beautifully cascaded over the casket. You didn’t believe in heaven, but if you did –you knew that she would be smiling down at you from there.

               You wondered if she knew about what S.H.I.E.L.D. did to you. How many people they killed trying to get the result that you got. She had founded S.H.I.E.L.D. But you did not think that she had any idea what went on inside those walls she had built. You turned when you head more heels behind you and turned to see Nat walking up to the two of you, as beautiful as ever. She nodded to you sweetly, gently and teasingly wrapping an arm around your shoulders. You couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little.

               “The rest of us are going to Austria.” She said to Steve, eyebrows raised hopefully. “Have a change of heart?”

               She was talking about the Sokovian Accords. Steve slowly shook his head. “You know me, Nat.”

               She nodded slowly, and you could tell that she expected that answer. “I sure do.” She responded, glancing down to you. She stared at you, smiling, eyebrows lightly furrowed. “What would you do, _____?” she asked you, thoughtfulness deep in her words.

               You pursed your lips staring up at you. “I wouldn’t sign it.” You whispered, shaking your head. “I know what it’s like to fight for a cause you don’t have a choice in. I’ll never do that again. I’m sorry.”

               She paused, staring down at the floor, as if your words almost changed her mind. But you had a deep feeling that she would sign the Accords, anyway, because Natasha tended to be stubborn, and she obviously truly thought that signing those papers was the right thing to do. That signing it would end a great loss of life. But you knew that it would only increase it.

               Natasha gave the both of you a hug before turning and leaving the cathedral, not looking back. You and Steve stared at each other for a moment, staring into each other, and understanding. You left the Cathedral first and headed to your small room. Steve followed ten minutes after, heading to his own. You unlocked your room and stared into the emptiness, at the pure quietness of its walls. You wondered how many people had stayed in this room. How many lonely people. You wished Peter was there with you.

               You walked over to the mirror, glancing at yourself one last time before picking up your phone from the bedstand. You wondered what time it was in New York right now. You didn’t know the timezones – and to be honest you were too lazy to look them up on your phone. You could only hope that Peter was awake.

               I miss you. You texted, and not five minutes later did you receive a response.

               I miss you too. When will you be back?

               I may spend one more day. Not sure. I’ll have to see how Dad’s feeling

               Ok. It’s like, really early. I gotta go to work, I’ll text you later, I miss you

               Ok. I miss you too

               You smiled down at your phone, placing it close to your heart with a deep breath. You placed the phone back down, reaching behind your back to unzip the black dress and slip it off, laying it down gently on the bed. You turned then to the mirror again, staring at your toned muscles and the scars that lay above them. You looked at the needle scars on your arms, the pink lines that traced along your body. Your gloves.

               You sighed, getting into bed and pulling the covers up high, taking deep, even breaths. You weren’t tired, you didn’t want to sleep. You glanced over at the TV, but found no real inclination to turn it on. So there you laid, just thinking. About everything. You used to just… thinking. Being underground alone gave you a lot of time to think. And you weren’t going to stop now.

               Hours later, you fell asleep. And you hadn’t even realized it.

               The next day you awoke to hear your phone ringing. The second time in a row you had started a day like this. You picked up the phone to see that it was Steve, and quickly answered it.

               “Yeah?”

               “Turn on the TV. Now.”

               You ripped off the covers and ran for the TV, begging inside your head that nothing was happening in New York. You saw immediately:

               UNITED NATIONS COMPLEX BOMBED BY TERRORIST JAMES “BUCHANAN” BARNES, AKA THE WINTER SOLDIER

               You took a deep, shuddering breath, holding the phone close to your ear. “Oh no.” Was all you could say.

               “Come on. We’re gonna go get him. Outside the complex. I’ll meet you in Vienna.”

               You hung up the phone, immediately lunging for your luggage, pulling on your suit and conductive gloves as fast as you could, You pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt over your suit quickly, grabbing your mask and makeup and shoving them quickly into your pocket, placing your phone down on the bed and running for the door, almost forgetting your keycard on the way out.

               You had paid for one of those high speed trains to get to Vienna as quickly as possible, your hands shaking the entire time. You stared straight ahead, earning a few worried looks from other passengers, but you ignored them taking deep breaths all the way to Vienna. Within hours you leaped off the train and ran for the UN building, You slowed to a jog as to not seem too suspicious, reaching the area and noticing Steve standing by Sam at a bar nearby. You quickly jogged over, standing and pretending to fix your hoodie strings as you listened to Steve talk to who you quickly figured out was Natasha over the phone.

               Thank God she was alright.

               You tried to listen, and you could just barely hear her telling Steve to stay home and back off. Steve responded that she should bring Bucky in because he’s the one that has the least chance of dying if he tries. You gnawed on your lip, following Steve into the restaurant, where the woman you recognized as Peggy’s great aunt or something? You weren’t sure, told Steve to find Bucky, and fast. You, Steve and Sam all glanced at one another before heading out the door for Bucharest.

 -

                Steve walked into the apartment complex quickly and quietly through the entrance, when you jumped into an alleyway beside the building to quickly get into your suit, place the black eyeshadow over your eyes and slip on your mask. You glanced down at the clothes in your hands before placing them down in the corner of the alleyway. Hopefully, you would be back for them. You looked down at your hands and realized that they were sadly empty. You wished you had your swords in your hands again – but they were back at that base you called your home, and you didn’t want them badly enough to go back. You looked around for any piping like in New York but sadly you didn’t find any. You sighed softly and allowed your gloves to charge, hearing them hum with the energy in your fingers. You looked up towards the roof and saw Sam looking down at you. You gave him a thumbs up, he returned it, and then you turned to the wall. You swung your arms softly, taking a deep breath, allowing your gloves to hum louder and louder until you could almost feel the pull of the nearby metal.

               You leaped, the electromagnetic charge in your hand drawn to the metal immediately and sticking to the nearest landing. You pulled yourself up and up each piece of metal or fire escape all the way up to the Winter Soldier’s floor, pulling the window up and slipping in, closing it behind you and seeing Steve already inside. He was holding a small book in his hands, with a picture of him inside. The two of you turned to see Bucky standing there, and they were talking to each other, but you weren’t listening. You were too worried about the men that were getting ready to storm the building. Like clockwork, Sam was now letting you know that the Romanian swat was surrounding the building, then in the building, then on the roof.

               You could feel your heart rate increase and could almost hear the buzzing electricity around your heart, letting your adrenaline fuel your power.

               “This doesn’t have to end in a fight.” Steve whispered, and you looked to Bucky, where he was looking down at his metal arm.

               “It always ends in a fight.”

               Man, you and Bucky were even more alike than you and Steve. He was right. It always ended in a fight. Always. Because in the end, you really were the monsters, and no matter what you say or do… nothing could change that.

               “BREACH!! BREACH!!”

               Suddenly a grenade flew in through the window which Steve immediately deflected with his shield, sending it back outside. Almost right after the first another was thrown in, Bucky knocking towards Steve who managed to cover it with his shield just in time. A third and final grenade flew through a broken window, and everything seemed as if it were in slow motion. You saw it spinning towards you, blinking a small yellow light, and without thinking of what the grenade might do, you lifted a leg, spinning in the air and managing to kick it back outside the apartment.

               All three of you turned to look at each other when the special forces started taking the door down, all trying to calculate the other’s next moves or what could possibly happen next. There was no turning back now – this was a fight. Men burst through windows and the three of you sprung to action. You barely saw Bucky throw a punch and down went the first one. The next was aiming his gun to fire and you immediately held out your hands – ZZTT! He crumpled to the ground.

               You turned to see Steve on the ground, underneath Bucky – what had even happened? You could barely remember the last time missions moved this fast. He lifted his arm to punch and you began to lunge, but he sent his fist through the floor, picking up a bag and throwing it out the balcony. More men came pouring in, firing immediately, You held out your hands to catch bullets on your glove, and from the sounds of it Bucky and Steve were doing the same. One man came close and you reeled back a sizzling fist, knocking it right into his gut and ZAP went the electricity straight through the bullet proof suit. You turned and watched dumbfounded as Bucky used Steve as a weapon, practically throwing him out the window with just his metal arm.

               You took another man down, reaching both hands up to the muzzle of the gun, one hand over the barrel and the other on the thicker metal, the bullets meeting your glove and sending a shock through the gun’s metal that had the man spasming all the way to the ground. You turned and watched as Bucky lifted a hand and caught bullets on the advance – hey, that was your move!! And take him down effortlessly.

               You turned towards the door when you heard the shotgun blast the hinges right off the door, waiting, but Bucky beat them to it. He sent his fist right through the door, and everything that continued afterwards was a blur of adrenaline and action. Men were pouring in and you and Bucky were taking them down like it was nobody’s business. You tried really hard not to use lethal force in your shocks, but soon your training kicked in and it was like you were yourself again – no! You stopped for a moment and shook your head; this was not you. You were not a monster.

               You had no more time to think about it though as men fell through the ceiling. Your hands were immediately out and zapping as fast as you could. Slowly, through action you descended the stirs, Bucky taking the much quicker route as he took out more and more men. You watched him take out three with the same thing that was used to knock his door down. You stared at it, picking it up after he dropped it and charging it as much as you could before throwing it into a group of men – almost like an electricity grenade. It worked well – you hoped they weren’t dead.

               You watched Steve try his best to incapacitate the men without seriously harming or killing them, but Bucky was getting away.

               “Cap!” You yelled as you watched Bucky leap down the stairwell, falling and falling until grabbing onto a railing and pulling himself up, bursting through the door closest to him. You followed in a similar way, using your electromagnetic gloves to stick to the metal much easier. When you were on the balcony you saw him already on the next building roof. You turned to see Steve following and realized you had to make your move now. You groaned, wondering when the last time you made a huge jump like this was, and leaped for the next building.

               You just barely made it, rolling on impact and continuing your run after him, letting a huge charge run through your hand – but someone beat you to it. You watched as the man in the black suit fell right on top of Bucky, sending him to the ground. You skidded to a halt, eyes wide, wondering what to do with this new person that had just entered the game. You watched the stranger stand and – were those claws?!

               He started to attack Bucky, and he seemed to be doing a good job defending himself, but it clearly wasn’t enough. Very quickly the man had the Winter Soldier on the ground, having to use a piece of metal barring to deflect an attack. It was here you jumped in, spinning and kicking the cat straight in the chest, watching him stumble back. You took the metal from Bucky and listened to it hiss with the electricity, and you lunged.

               It was a quick spar, full of some good hits and some good blocks – you were very equally matched. You managed to get a few good jolts in, but the electricity did not seem to hinder him much. With frustration you amped up the voltage enough to kill a few men, but still – all it did was make him jolt and slow down. You wondered if his suit was made out of vibranium. It had to have been.

               Your question was immediately answered as a helicopter flew by and began firing at the two of you. You had to hold up hands to deflect a few, but the bullets were bouncing off of him like they were little flies. Two of the helicopter’s bullets imbedded themselves deep in your lower right left and you cried out, dropping to a knee and bringing your hands down to the wound immediately, as if that would help. Before he helicopter could fire off any more shots and effectively kill you, Sam took it out of the sky.

               Before you knew it they were all up and running, and you tried to get up and follow, but running caused the pain to explode through your entire body and you fell your knee again, trying not to scream.

               “Get out of here, Shockey.” Came Steve’s voice over the com in your ear. “It’ll only get worse from here. Get out of here and get home to your boyfriend, it’ll be ok. Get home safe. We’ll be okay. Don’t come after us. We can’t risk you getting caught.”

               “He’s not my-“ you tried to start, but the pain immediately caught you off as you slowly stood to your feet. You watched as all the men and cars and helicopters immediately follow the action, completely forgetting about you on the rooftop. You decided not to take your chances and quickly hobbled over to the edge of the building, looking down into the alleyway which you had dumped your clothes in. So that was the one you jumped over. You took a deep breath and vaulted over the edge, charging your gloves and grabbing onto the metal as you went down, slowing your fall, but landing on your leg still hurt like a bitch and you had to bring a hand over your mouth to stop the scream from coming out. You fell onto your butt and scooched all the way up to the wall, breathing deeply and trying your hardest not to cry. This wasn’t the worst you had gone through.

               You leaned against it, taking deep breaths, riskily taking off your mask and shoving it in your mouth, leaning down to your leg and rolling your suit leg up to the knee. You stared at the huge bullet holes through your leg – one through your shinbone and the other passing through the muscle on the side. You took deep breaths through your nose, already watching your enhanced skin heal around the bullet, but you couldn’t leave it in. You reached down to try and pull the bullets out with your fingers, like you had done many times before.

               You blacked out from the pain. But when you opened your eyes again a few minutes later, the bullets were out. You must have just blacked out because of the pain as you were helping yourself: you had done that so many times it wasn’t even funny. Now you leaned your head back against the wall, taking deep breaths and allowing your wounds to heal. They would leave scars and you knew it.

               You couldn’t get Peter out of your mind. How awful would it have been if those helicopter bullets hit you places you couldn’t heal fast enough? What if you never came home? And Peter would be forever left wondering what happened to you, why you never came back to him. You felt tears stinging your eyes and you let a few fall, taking your mask out of your mouth and sniffling to yourself – half from the pain and half because of Peter. You never had someone to go home to. Now you did.

               Eventually your legs were healed enough. You grabbed your clothes and slowly pulled them on, wiping away your eye makeup on your sleeve as best as you could and pocketing your mask. Slowly you walked with just a slight limp to the train station – after a while the limp disappeared as the wound continued to heal. You took the high speed train back to London, where you crashed onto your bed, Peter still running through your mind. You wanted nothing more than to lay down and rest, but you needed to get out of Europe as fast as you could.

               You shed your clothes and your suit, shoving them into the bottom of the bag and changing your gloves, putting on a new, comfier pair of clothing. You grabbed everything and quickly made the bed, doing a quick once over to make sure that you hadn’t left anything. Any evidence. You left the hotel with your bag in one hand and phone in the other, walking briskly to the airport and purchasing the first ticket home.

               “Going home so soon?” The customs woman asked politely as she checked through your paperwork and passport. You smiled softly.

               “Yes. Funeral’s over.”

               She nodded solemnly with a small smile. “I’m very sorry for your loss. Have a safe flight home.” You nodded to her and said goodbye, walking towards the hangar you needed to be at and plopping into the uncomfortable plastic chairs. Next flight left in two hours. You could wait.

               You unlocked your phone and immediately texted Peter:

               I get on my flight home in two hours.

               An almost immediate response, even though you had no idea how late or early it was in New York:

               !!! What time do you touch down??? I’ll pick you up at the airport!!

               You smiled to yourself and laughed, feeling the tears coming on, but holding them back. You were so happy to have a friend like Peter. You didn’t know it yet, but you were falling so madly in love with him and there was nothing to stop your momentum.

tag list: @bangtanjm @143amberrose @thekayceenicole @1022bridgetp@littlemsrantsalot @all-the-kings-horses @fallinginthe-void @morduniversum @lisamnieto @lionfart @sparrow1707 @x-elf-boy-x

first part: here!

next part: here!

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part vii)

title: right as rain, soft as snow

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: lotsa FLUFF! a lil violence an a lotta love

 word count:6,175 (WOW)

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues. 

 ________________________________________

              When you woke up the next morning, you were laying on your side, in his arms, warm and content. With your ear against his chest you listened to his steady heartbeat and felt the rise and fall of his breathing chest on your cheek. You moved your head up to look at him from underneath his chin, finding that he was still fast asleep. You strained your eyes so you could see without moving enough to wake him, and barely saw the morning light through his bedroom window. You moved your head back down, snuggling back up into his chest. You smiled when you felt him unconsciously snuggle back in his sleep and hold you tighter, and closed your eyes to fall back asleep.

       You woke the second time a good few hours later, and your phone ringing and buzzing on the floor beside the bed. You jolted awake at the loud sound, opening your eyes to see that Peter was already awake and staring up at the ceiling, not moving as to not disturb you. The both of you glanced towards your phone and it was then he realized that you were awake. He smiled at you before letting you go, watching you roll out of his arms and out of bed to get to your phone.

       You held it up to your face and saw DAD in capital letters. New phone. Precautions. You knew that it was Steve. You answered the phone, bringing it quickly to your ear and brushing your hair from your face.

       “Hello?” You asked, straightening out your tanktop and pulling your sweatpants up slightly. You stared at Peter as Steve talked and Peter stared back, sitting up in his bed patiently.

       “Hey, Shockey.” Steve responded in that calm, soothing voice of his. “I stopped by the apartment, but you weren’t there. Where are you?”

       You thought it was weird that technically you were talking to your “dad” on the phone, when really it was just Steve. “I’m sleeping over at a friend’s house.” You answered, smiling over at a concerned Peter to show that you weren’t in trouble or anything.

       “Sounds like fun. Hey, I don’t want to dampen the mood, but I’m leaving for the funeral later today.”

       “Oh. London, right?”

       “Yeah.” He sighed softly, heaving out a deep breath. “Everyone else is going to Vienna. For the parade.” You knew it was really about the Sokovian Accords and that it would be put into action. “I wanted to see if you would come. I know I talked about her a lot. You probably had to learn a lot about her in school.” With S.H.I.E.L.D. “You don’t have to feel obligated to come. It’s alright.”

       “No, no, I’ll go. I want to go.” You smiled sadly, staring at your feet brushing up against the carpet.

       “Awesome. I’m back at home, but I’ll come get you in a few hours, okay? We’ll fly to London tonight. Bye, ______.”

       “Bye.” You brought your phone down from your ear, hanging up and staring at the screen for a moment longer.

       “Is everything okay?” Peter asked, standing up and walking to be beside you.

       You turned to look up at him, nodding your head slowly but turning away again. “There’s a funeral tomorrow.” You murmured, allowing Peter to bring up his hands and gently rub your back, bringing you closer to him in a hug. He whispered his condolences to you, wrapping you up tightly in his arms and resting his chin on the top of your head. “I didn’t know her.” You murmured, leaning your head on his chest without even realizing it, “It’s in London. I don’t know how long I’ll be there for, but I’ll be back. I just…”

       “What?” Peter asked gently, still holding you.

       “I don’t have a dress or anything. You know, for the funeral. I don’t have anything appropriate to wear.”

       He pulled away just slightly, looking down at you. “You don’t have a dress?” He asked, pursing his lips together. “Do you have any dress?”

       You furrowed your brows, looking down for a moment and thinking about it. Did you have a dress? Now that you thought about it, you don’t think you’ve ever even worn a real dress. You shook your head slowly, glancing back up to Peter with pursed lips.

       “Hey, that’s okay, ‘cause we can go get one today. Or a few.”

       “Really?” You asked, pulling away so you could look at him better. “I can just go by myself.”

       “No, really, it’s ok. I want to come with you, it’ll be fun! We can go back shopping in Manhattan.”

       “Are you sure?”

       He smiled at you. “Positive. I don’t have work until much later, and we can go early so it’s not way too crowded.”

       “Okay.” You smiled, nodding your head. “That does sound like fun. I’ll get dressed.”

       “Okay!” Peter smiled wider, happy to be spending the day with you. “I’m gonna go talk to Aunt May first. Hold on.” He let go of you and left the room, shutting it behind him so you could have some privacy. You reached for your bag, looking up softly when you heard the muffled words behind the door.

       “You said you were going to sleep on the couch, Peter – I opened your door this morning and saw the two of you all snuggled up!”

       “I did, Aunt May – I did sleep on the couch. But she had a nightmare this morning, I couldn’t just leave her crying in there.”

       Their words were hushed, but you could still hear them. Aunt May sighed. “Fine, Peter, fine. She’s a good girl. But I swear to god, if you get her pregnant – “

       “Aunt May!!”

       You laughed softly as you pulled on your jeans and slipped your MIT hoodie over your head. You thought to yourself silently as you sat down to put your pajamas back into the bag. You gnawed on your lip, glancing up to the wall in front of you as you thought. Did this really mean something? Were you actually together? Or was Peter just being really nice? You were honestly clueless. You had never been in a relationship before, and honestly the only ones you had seen were in movies. And honestly, you didn’t think Arwen and Aragorn’s relationship from The Lord of the Rings movies you had just watched with Peter was anything to base it off of. You gnawed on your lip, slowly standing to your feet and putting the backpack on through each arm. You took a deep breath as you slipped on your sneakers, glancing at your phone. It was 9 AM.

       What even was a relationship, really? Did Peter even want to be with you? Or was he just holding you so tightly because he was starting to realize how messed up you were? You quickly brought your hands up to your head at the thought, closing your eyes and pressing the heels of your palms into them. Don’t think that way. You told yourself, taking deep breaths. You’re not like that anymore. Don’t let it take you. You’re not like that anymore. You’re not like that anymore.

       You opened your eyes slowly to the sound of knocking on Peter’s bedroom door.

       “Hey, ______, you doin’ okay in there?”

       You pursed your lips and breathed deeply through your nose, nodding your head even though you knew that he couldn’t see it. “Yeah, sorry – I’m coming out now.” You pocketed your phone, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything with one last glance around the room and stepping outside into the main room. Peter smiled at you with a small greeting and let you come out before brushing past you and shutting the door behind him so he could get changed himself.

       May was sitting at the kitchen table with her mug in her hands, sipping at it sweetly while going through the newspaper. She glanced up to you, motioning your forward. “Come on, hun, come sit. That boy takes forever to get dressed. His hair has to be perfect.”

       The two of you laughed a little as you made your way to the table, sliding your backpack from your shoulders and sitting across from her, sitting up straight and folding your hands in your lap, like you had always been told. Taught. Trained. She placed her coffee down, leaning on her hand with her elbow down on the table.

       “Did you sleep well?” she asked casually, flipping the page of the newspaper gently.

       “Yeah, Aunt May – I-I mean – Yeah, May, I did, thank you.”

       May smiled at you widely. “It’s okay honey, you can call me Aunt May if you want to.”

       You smiled back at her, nodding your head. You really liked her. She was so nice – she honestly was starting to feel like the motherly figure you never had.

       She pursed her lips and her face seemed to grow more somber. “Do you want to talk about what you have nightmares of, sweetie?” she asked gently, leaning in just slightly and resting her cheek on her palm, gazing over at you with a small, sad smile.

       You furrowed your brows in surprise, glancing down at the floor for a second. Sure, you totally could have told her that you can’t stop seeing their faces, can’t stop hearing their screams, can’t stop smelling all the blood. You could tell her that sometimes when you close your eyes you’re convinced that when you wake up it’ll all have just been a great dream, and that you would be back on that slab, tied down and screaming. You could tell her that needles were your biggest fear and that there was nothing you wanted more than a really, really tight hug, when you looked up to her, you decided what you had wanted to say.

       “No,” you whispered with a small smile, “It’s okay. It’s no big deal, really.”

       “Did something happen, hun?” she asked, bringing her hands together on the table, “Are there some things you just need to get off your chest? They may go away if you talk about it.”

       You could tell she was genuinely concerned. That she really, really wanted to help you. But you shook your head and smiled, no matter how much you really just wanted to let it all out. “No, I just have a very vivid imagination, is all,” You smiled and laughed, trying your best to smile with your eyes, too – but you weren’t sure you made it that far.

       She nodded her head softly, glancing back down to the table momentarily. “Okay, sweetie. But I’m always here, okay?” She smiled over at you and then went back to her newspaper, picking up her coffee or tea or whatever was in the mug and took a small sip.

       “Okay.” You whispered back, glancing down at the table – looking up when Peter’s bedroom door opened.

       “You girls gossiping?” Peter joked as he slipped his shoes on.

       “Yeah, about you.” Aunt May responded, and the three of you laughed. It felt like home.

       “Ready to go, ______?” Peter asked, pocketing his phone and wallet and heading for the door.

       “Where are the two of you going?” Aunt May asked curiously, standing and walking over as Peter told you could keep your bag of clothes here if you wanted to.

       “We’re going shopping in Manhattan,” Peter responded with a smile. “______ needs a dress.”

       Aunt May raised her eyebrows with a smile, pointing over at Peter – she had obviously made a connection with something else.

       “Oh, for your Future Engineer’s Banquet-?”

       “Aunt May!” You glanced over at Peter, shocked at his slight outburst, glancing from May to Peter.

       “I hadn’t asked her if she wanted to go with me yet.” Peter murmured, running his hand down his face with a sigh.

       Aunt May smiled sheepishly and laughed, shrugging her shoulders. “Sorry, honey.” She laughed, heading back to the kitchen table. “You two have fun! Be careful! Keep her safe!”

       “Always, Aunt May!” Peter responded as the two of you left the apartment. Peter shut the door behind the both of you and sighed, leaning against it heavily. He hung his head as you stared at him, head slightly tilted to the side.

       “Engineer’s Banquet?” You asked inquisitively, crossing your arms across your chest loosely.

       Peter nodded his head, glancing back up to you with the most adorably embarrassed look on his face. “Yeah. I’m in the club at school – I’m after school every Monday and Wednesday. Every year we work on this big project that takes the whole school year to complete. This year it’s coming along really well, and… We’re finishing it early. So we decided to have the Banquet a little earlier so we could showcase it. A lot of the guys – well, the attractive ones, anyway – bring dates, and I wanted to see if you would come with me.”

       You were shocked, blinking dumbfounded at him, eyebrows raised almost to the ceiling. You had been never asked to a dance before.

       “I wanted to tell you later today. I figured it would be perfect because we’re already going dress shopping, and since you don’t have any dresses, you could probably look for one today, that is – if you even want to go with me, I’d totally understand if – “

       “Peter.” You stopped him, bringing a hand up to rest on his upper arm softly. “I would love to go with you to your banquet.”

       He smiled widely at you, grinning absolutely from ear to ear. “Hey, that’s great! I’ve never had a date to the banquet before!”

       You laughed sweetly as Peter turned towards you, holding his arm out for you to take. You brought up a hand to wrap around his arm, laughing as the two of you walked down the hallway. “I wonder why not.”

       Your walk was peaceful. It was not cold out at all – in fact it was just starting to get warm. You wore your tanktop without your suit on, finally happy to not be wearing it. It was really tight and it did often get hot. You had made it to the bridge in what seemed like record time, although the two of you had been walking quite slowly and just enjoying the day. It was sunny and warm, and as the two of you waited to cross the street, Peter noticed you with your eyes closed, absolutely soaking in the sun and its warmth.

       For most of your life you lived underground. You had never seen the sun for yourself until about a year and a half ago – when the Avengers stormed the base you lived in to “save” you and the rest of the experiments that lived captive there. Although, there weren’t many. Most were failures. Many had died.

       A lot of the other living experiments either had to be killed or detained permanently – as their powers were too strong, or they were too far gone to ever be normal again. You, when you were rescued, were considered too far gone. They had planned on keeping you detained. But when you felt that sunlight on your skin, that amazing, comforting warmth, you couldn’t go underground again. You couldn’t. You just couldn’t do it anymore.

       You had fought back. But you didn’t have the gloves then – you were much stronger, and the Avengers couldn’t handle you at your strongest. Back then the S.H.I.E.L.D. scientists had pumped you full of drugs. Back then you could just barely control it – maybe it was what they pumped through your system every day.

       You had just barely escaped, and ran into the desert. But both you and the Avengers knew that you wouldn’t survive out there on your own – and especially not with the withdrawal you went through. By the second day you were writhing in the sand, screaming¸ clutching at your skin in pain; wishing the burning would stop. The Avengers found you easily – but without the drugs your hands were almost storm clouds themselves; spouting electricity and lightening hundreds of feet around you. No one could get near you except Iron Man. But even he and his suit got seriously messed up by the electricity.

       The Avengers had very discreetly taken you back to the tower, where Dr. Banner tried his best to treat your withdrawal systems, but he had no idea what they had been injecting you with three times a day. He didn’t know what drug they used, what affect it had on you, or why your withdrawal was this bad. For the week he spent trying to figure it out, you laid tied down on his table screaming your vocal cords raw, crying – it was the only thing you could do. The pain was way too much. It was too much.

       And then Dr. Banner had figured it out and was able to recreate the super-serum that they were giving you. He also figured out that, after even more blood tests, that they were trying their best to recreate what made Captain America the super soldier he turned into. When Steve heard this, he blamed it all on himself, for whatever reason. He felt so awful what S.H.I.E.L.D. had put you and so many other people through to be like him. But stronger, faster, more powerful. Steve had barely even seen what you’re capable of.

       Suddenly the two of you were walking again and you snapped out of your memories, looking up to a smiling Peter. “Enjoying the sun?”

       “Loving it.” You responded genuinely with a smile, walking with your side pressed into his as you headed for Times Square.

       “Also,” Peter began as you made it to the next sidewalk, “You can get whatever dress you like – seriously. I’ll match my tie with whatever you wear.”

       You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean?”

       Peter glanced at you, kind of shocked you didn’t know – but he knew that this was something that he was going to come across more often than not. You had a feeling that he knew there was something fishier than just homeschooling that made you so clueless, but he never asked about it, and you were thankful.

       “Well, you see,” he began, and the two of you stopped at another crosswalk. “You get whatever color dress you like. The guy date is supposed to match his tie with the color of the girl’s dress.”

       “Ohhh,” You nodded in understanding as the two of you continued to walk. “Okay.” You smiled up at him. “I’m really excited, you know.”

       “Me too.” His hand when down to grab yours, interlocking your fingers together sweetly.

       The two of you stopped on the far corner of Times Square, staring out at all the people and stores. He turned to look down at you. “Where do you want to go first?”

       You gave a lopsided sort of grin in thought, shrugging your shoulders. You had never really heard of any of them before. “Let’s look for a black dress first, I guess.” You responded softly, glancing up to him with a small smile. “I really don’t know what I’m doing here.”

       Peter and you headed towards a store, swinging your arms just slightly. “I’ve never worn a dress either, so,” Peter responded and the two of you laughed as you pushed through the first set of doors. You took a deep, obviously overwhelmed breath as you saw how many dresses there were in just one store.

       You turned to each other, each taking a deep breath, and walked further into the store. The two of you looked around almost the entire store, mostly together but sometimes splitting up to find some good choices. It wasn’t like before you had a good amount of dresses to try on. Peter turned to you, handing the ones he had picked out with a smile. “I’m gonna go stand over there and keep looking. It’s really weird when a guy stands by the girls’ dressing room, I think.” He laughed softly, giving you a quick one armed hug and heading back towards the front of the store to keep looking while you turned and headed for the dressing rooms. Neither Peter nor you, nor anyone else noticed the small man in the hoodie that had followed you inside.

       There were no cameras in the dressing room – and all of the women that were in there were in their respected rooms. It was the perfect chance for an attack, and he knew it. You hung your dresses, turning to close the door, but he had shouldered it roughly, entering the room before you could even get close to shutting the door.

       You didn’t hesitate. Quietly and quickly jumping, arms and legs effectively wrapping around the hooded man and falling down on your back onto the carpeted ground with your arms tightly around his neck and legs affectively trapping his arms. You applied some pressure, letting him flail his legs a little on the ground in response, but he did not make any noise.

       You could hear footsteps coming up to the dressing area.

       “______?” It was Peter. “Are you okay?!”

       You furrowed your brows. You hadn’t made much noise – not enough to even alert the people in the room beside you.

       You cleared your throat, bringing your free hand up to cover the man’s mouth, and said loudly enough so he could hear through the door: “I’m okay Peter! I tripped a little bit I’m fine, you can go back.”

       “Okay...” Peter responded, and you could hear his footsteps leaving the area. You glanced around the dressing room – it was one of those fancy ones, complete rooms with walls from floor to ceiling and doors to match. No one could see in and no one could see out.

       You turned your attention to the man you had in a lock, rage boiling your blood. He knew. He had to have known everything. You only had your suppressive gloves on and he knew that. You couldn’t shock him unless you wanted to take off your gloves, but if you were to take off your gloves for too long of a time, you had no idea how long it would be until you couldn’t control it and the whole place could go down with you.

       You lessened the grip around the short man’s neck, bringing your hand away from his mouth to rip down his hood so you could see his face. You didn’t know who he was, but you knew who he was with. Who we worked for.

       You opened your mouth to demand answers, but in a raspy voice, he began before you could get any words out.

       “You feel it already, don’t you?” He hissed quietly, grinning madly, “You hear the words, you hear the voices. It’s starting to hurt, isn’t it?”

       You furrowed your eyebrows, pressing down on his throat a little harder. “What the hell are you talking about?” you whispered back, digging your heel into his side for good measure.

       “You feel it. It’s coming back. I know it is – and if it isn’t now, then it will soon. You’re going to have to come crawling back… you’ll be back. You need us.”

       You covered his mouth with your hand, closing your eyes tightly and trying to drown his voice out. “Get out of here.”  You growled, bringing the both of you to your feet and reaching for your gloves in warming. You lashed out a kick and sent him roughly into the wall, quickly opening the door and peeking out to see if anyone was looking.

       The two of you were at a stalemate. You, as a runaway criminal and him as a S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist, couldn’t give the other away. If he got caught, then you would most likely get caught, and vice versa. But how did he know you were there? Had he followed you? The very thought made your blood boil inside your veins – the fact that they were so close to you, and now it seemed that Peter was involved in this, too…

       Upon seeing no one outside, you grabbed the man by the hair, pulled his hood up and shoved him outside. “If I see you anywhere near me again,” You threatened, pulling him close by his collar, “I’ll kill you. Or anyone else you decide to send.”

       You pushed him, and him, laughing to himself, muttering: “You’ll be back…” Turned and started to head out of the store. You closed the door behind him, practically falling to a sit on the small stool in the corner. You rested your elbows on your knees with your head in your hands, taking a deep, shaking breath. They had found you. You didn’t know how, or how many of them were left, but they found you, and they wanted you back.

       You took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not the let the panic get the best of you. They were going to try and take you. And what had he meant? “It’s coming back?” What did that mean? You didn’t feel any different. But now that the thought was in your head you felt almost paralyzed – too scared to move or think. They were going to take you, and you would never see Peter or Steve again. The very thought brought tears to your eyes, but you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

       If they were going to take you… You couldn’t let Peter know. You couldn’t let him be sucked into this. You wouldn’t do that to him. You decided that, if they really were going to take you back someday, you might as well make the last moments with your friends the best that you would have. You would go to that banquet, god dammit. You would. You stood with a deep breath, glancing over to the dresses that were hanging up on the rack. Your last moments with him will be fun, you decided. Not sad. Not boring. Fun.

       You reached for the first black dress out of the two that you picked, taking off your jeans and sweatshirt quickly before slipping it on, fitting your hands through the straps. You zipped it up as far as you could, turning to look in the mirror. It was a tighter fitting dress until it reached your hips, where the fabric seemed to soften and flow slightly outwards, reaching your knees. The neckline was cut around to roughly the tops of where your shoulder and arm met, where thin straps lay, like a close to off-the-shoulder look. It was a beautiful dress. You moved towards the door, taking a deep breath and calling out: “Peter?”

       Quickly he came back, standing at the outside of the area, and you walked out to meet him. “Can you zip the rest of the way up?”

       Peter nodded with a smile, and you turned around to let him zipper it. The dress’s back had a bit of a low backline, just below your shoulder blades. He most likely saw a few scars; you were almost sure you even felt his finger trace against one. You turned to look into the mirror, standing beside him. Peter didn’t say anything, but he was smiling sweetly.

       “You look great.”

       You smiled back up to him, turning to look back in the mirror. You walked a little closer to the mirror, staring at a scar that was poking out in the center of your chest, slightly to the left. It was a deep one, and it only poked out just slightly.

       This time, Peter didn’t keep quiet. “What’s that from?”

       “Heart surgery.” You responded, tracing the scar with your own finger and not liking how it showed up above the dress. You weren’t lying. When you were young they cut you open and implanted your heart with a large mass of vibranium, virtually making each beat a conductor of electricity. What they hadn’t taken into account, though, was your elevated heart rate and how it would affect the electricity. The answer? A lot.

       You looked over at Peter in the mirror to see him turned towards you, staring at your upper arm. His eyebrows were furrowed and he looked seriously upset for a moment, and you turned to look at him, bringing a hand up to hide your arm, but the same needle scars were on the other arm, too. Dark marks and dimples in your skin from the constant needles every day for years.

       “Do you do drugs?” Peter immediately asked in a whisper, concern showing on his face heavily as he grabbed your arm. You tried to pull away, but he was surprisingly very strong. He didn’t even look that strong.

       You laughed a little bit at the thought, shaking your head quickly. “No, Peter, no-“ You quickly whispered back, finally pulling your arm away and shaking your hands. “Don’t worry. I’m not doing drugs or anything, I’m fine. I’ll tell you all about it, okay? But can we just have some fun right now?”

       Peter’s concern seemed to drain from his face and for a moment he looked a little guilty for freaking out. “You’re right, I’m sorry. The dress is beautiful and you look even more beautiful in it.”

       You blushed just slightly at his words, smiling. “I’ll go try on the other one.”

       You turned and headed back for the dressing rooms after letting him unzip the dress again, allowing him to see more scars, but he never asked, so you never turned back around. You hoped he assumed it was just from more surgeries.

       You slipped the dress off and tried the second one on, once again zipping it up as far as you could. This one… This one was gorgeous. It was tight fitting, and hugged your muscular form perfectly. It reached about your mid-thigh, highnecked – to the bottom of your neck. The sleeves were semi-long, reaching about two inches above the elbow. They hid all of your scars perfectly. And plus, you looked really nice in it. You were able to reach around above your head and zip it the rest of the way up, turning and leaving the dressing room to go and show Peter.

       You were smiling when you walked out; it was obvious that you were in love with the dress. When you turned the corner, you saw him standing there, hands in his pockets, humming whatever song. You thought he was the greatest person you ever laid your eyes on.

       When he turned to look at you, his jaw absolutely dropped. His eyebrows almost shot up to nearly his hairline, and at first, the only sounds he could get out of his mouth were slight laughs and “wow”s.

       “_______,” He muttered, looking yo up and down, “You’re beautiful.”

       You could only smile and laugh towards the ground, trying your best to hide your blush. Standing there, happy and living – you wanted to cry. You wanted to cry again because you knew they were coming for you and you knew that they would eventually take you, no matter how long it took. But you didn’t cry, you smiled, because you wanted your last times with him to be as happy as possible.

       “I  think that’s the one.” Peter said after a while, nodding his head softly. “One dress down?”

       You nodded your head with a laugh. “I’m going to go try on the ones for the banquet, now.”

       You noticed Peter’s eyes going up and down, looking all over before you turned and asked him to unzip the dress a little. He gently did so, and you smiled back to him in thanks. Retreating back to the dressing room, you took a deep breath and plopped down onto the stool. You looked up at the rest of the colorful dresses on the rack and went to work.

       You had decided on the dress yourself. You wanted it to be a surprise. Of course, you would show Peter the color of the dress, but you wanted the dress on you to be a surprise for the night. Despite having never been to a banquet or even a party before, you were so excited. You really wanted to have fun with Peter and meet his friends, or, at least the people he saw almost every day. You didn’t know why, but for some reason, you really wanted to impress them. You wanted to make friends. You wanted to be normal.

       But any chances of that happening had really just been thrown right out the window. Getting other people involved In your shitty life could get other people injured, and you couldn’t handle more blood on your hands.

       You walked out of the dressing room with the black dress and the sleek, mauve dress that you chose as your banquet dress, leaving the others in the room. You smiled at Peter as he raised his eyebrows in slight surprise at the sight of the pink dress. You walked over, smooshing your foot into your sneaker.

       “I don’t get to see it?” Peter asked with a small pout, taking his hands out of his hoodie pockets. You smiled up at him, shaking your head softly.

       “I want it to be a surprise. Is that okay?”

       Peter nodded with a laugh, bringing his arm up and around your shoulders to walk towards the registers. “It’s totally okay. I’m really excited, you know.”

       “Yeah,” you responded in a whisper, “I am, too.”

       You paid for your dresses with the credit card that Tony had provided for you under the fake name and the two of you headed back out into the city.

       You walked slowly, with his arm around your shoulder. It really was a perfect day. You were excited to be leaving for London, as you had never been there except on a mission. Although, you didn’t want to leave Peter in unpredictable New York. What if something happened and Charge or Spider-Man weren’t there to fix it?

       You looked up to Peter when you noticed him looking down at you.

       “Plan one,” He began, “We could go back to my house, grab your bag, and then go back to your house until your flight. Or, we could just hang out at my house for another hour, and then you can leave and pack and everything.”

       “I like plan two.” You smiled, gently leaning into him the more you walked, and you hadn’t even realized you were already heading close to the Queensboro bridge.

       “Okay,” He responded with a soft laugh, “Plan two sounds good to me, too.”

       The two of you walked all the way back through Manhattan and Queens back to Peter’s house, walking slowly and taking your time, basking in the warm sunlight. When you and Peter made it back to his apartment with Aunt May, you greeted her and almost immediately went up to the roof. It was the perfect temperature – Spring was one of your favorite seasons. It was warm, but just slightly windy to still cool your skin. The two of you lay there on the roof, on your backs, with your head just resting on his chest. There you stared up at the sky and distinguished the shapes of the fluffy clouds above you.

       You laid there for almost two hours before you realized that you needed to go home and pack. You went back down to the apartment, wished Aunt May goodbye, gathered your things, and just outside the door you hugged Peter for a long time.

       “I won’t be gone long.” You promised, “I’ll be back before the banquet. I promise.”

       You smiled at each other, and you leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. He stared at you with slightly wide eyes and a smile, bringing you back in for another tight hug. It was then you left, walking alone back to your home and immediately getting ready to pack. You sat on the floor in your room, grabbing your luggage and just placing back in whatever you had taken out that wasn’t dirty. You moved for the suit at the back of your closet, taking off your clothes and slipping it on, sighing now that you couldn’t wear your tanktop. You slipped your tank off, put it in the luggage, took a light long sleeve out, and put that on.

       You were ready long before Steve showed up in his sunglasses and hat, trying his best to look “undercover”. You smiled up at him, giving him a quick but tight hug.

       “We missed you, Shock.” Steve laughed, bringing you close and ruffling your hair, grabbing your luggage with one hand as he motioned for the car. “Read all about your fight in the subway.” You smiled, eyebrows raised. “You looked amazing.”

       You got in the passenger seat of the car, listening to the engine roar to life, and the two of you were off to London for the funeral.

tag list: @bangtanjm @143amberrose @thekayceenicole @1022bridgetp @littlemsrantsalot @all-the-kings-horses

first part: here!

next part : here!

[lameinserts]

Masterlist

woo more to come

MAZE RUNNER

funny story - i wrote this (insanely long) story before I made this account. So here:

Don’t Let Go

MARVEL

right as rain, soft as snow (spider-man) 1 2 3 4 5 6(more coming soon! <3)

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part vi!)

title: right as rain, soft as snow

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: lotsa FLUFF! 

word count: 3,452

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues.       

        You woke up the next morning with a slight headache. You pulled the covers higher up yourself, hiding your lower face with the blanket like your mask did. You slowly opened your eyes, the light from the window beside your bed irritating you like you wouldn’t believe. How late had you slept in? You rolled over towards the window, opening your eyes further and looking out to the streets of Queens. You yawned, rolling over towards the dark side of your room, wanting just a few more minutes…

               You decided. You rolled back over, stood up – carefully stepping over your stuff, and slid the curtains shut. You fell back into bed, and now content with how dark it was, promptly went back to sleep.

               You woke back up again a few hours later, and with just the bare remnants of a headache. You sat up, turning towards your buzzing phone – probably the source of your awakening – and reaching for it. You brought a hand up to yawn into as your turned on your phone, squeezing your eyes shut when its light affectively blinded you.

               9AM: Hey!!!

               10AM: Hey, are you up???

               11AM: I know it’s been an hour but hey are you awake now??

               12PM: ______ it is NOON, OMG, WAKE UP!!! IM SO BORED!!! HELP!!11!!

               That was a half hour ago. The most recent, and the cause of your buzzing:

               12:30PM: I swear to god, ______, do you ever wake up????? how do you wake up for school in the morning?!?1

               You unlocked your phone, standing from your bed and slowly opening the blinds to let the afternoon sunlight in. You opened the messages from Peter, leaning against the wall as you brushed your hair back and out of your face. You pressed the box with your thumb, typing onto the keyboard:

               Come over.

               And then turning to your already messy room. You sighed softly, placing your hands on your hips. You reached for your suit, inside out and on the floor beside your bed, staring at the black material. You sat on your bed and folded your suit on your lap, staring at it, looking at the mask as it stared up at you. You brushed your fingers against the colored material, sighing once again and closing your eyes. You had done your part. Last night was not a dream. You had saved people. You would be alright. You picked up the conductive gloves that you fought with last night and placed them on top of the suit, standing and moving towards your still empty closet. You opened it, taking a deep breath and placing the suit all the way at the back. You had two suits, one that you hadn’t worn yet – grabbing it and placing it on top along with the other pair of gloves you had.

               You turned towards your phone on the bed, picking it up and watching the screen light up.

               Ok!!

               You smiled at his text, laughing softly. He was such a great friend already. You kneeled onto the floor, picking out a pair of sweatpants and an MIT sweatshirt Tony had loaned you. You remember him saying: ‘hey, i’m not fifteen anymore – this should fit you” and giving it to you. You wore it almost every day. You found that you really liked hoodies. You had never worn them before you met the Avengers. Placing your dirty clothes into the corner behind the door, you turned back to your small suitcase and taking whatever other clothes you had and placed them into your closet and around your suit, successfully hiding it amongst the articles. You stood, rolling up your thick sleeves and moving the suitcase into the far corner.

               You walked slowly into the main room, looking up at your punching bag where a TV would normally be. You sat down on the couch, just staring at the bag, wondering what Peter would think. You figured that he wouldn’t really care too much. You looked down at your phone buzzing.

               I’m like a minute away

               The door’s unlocked You typed back, just walk in when you get here

               Ok

               You placed your phone down, turning and moving so you could lay down on your side, resting your head against the soft armrest and closing your eyes. You took a deep breath through your nose, taking in the smell of the couch in the apartment and wondering how many people had laid on it like you had – or if Tony had already sent furniture to be put in. You thought about last night, slowly opening your eyes to pick up your phone once again. You sat up, opening the news app that nobody asked for, and saw almost immediately:

CHARGE AND SPIDER-MAN: AN UNLIKELY DUO

You narrowed your eyes at the title, opening the article and lightly skimming through it. It was pretty much just a small blurb on your past… work and what you had done the night before. You went back and looked through the other articles, sharing similar titles:

S.H.I.E.L.D. ASSASSIN GONE SOFT?

FORMER VILLAIN SAVES QUEENS SUBWAY PLATFORM

WORLD’S MOST HATED KILLER MAKES A CHANGE IN PACE?

You laid back down, holding the phone close to your face and slowly reading through all the articles, feeling your heart swell and most but drop at a few others. Some said that you were experiencing a change of heart, that hopefully you would start to fight against evil instead of for it, and that you could be New York’s new hero. Others said that this was just a ruse, that you would never change and that you would always be a killer. That this was just an awful plan to get everyone to trust you. At those you took a deep breath and closed them.

You kept reading, feeling your eyelids getting heavier. Before you knew it they were closed again, and you were breathing softly with your phone face down beneath your hand. You were asleep when the door opened, curled up a little so you only took up half of the couch.

When you opened your eyes, you noticed that you had a blanket over you – the one from your room. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning your head to see Peter sitting on the couch beside you, leaning back over the top of the couch and looking up at his phone. He put his phone down when he noticed you moving, and he turned to look over at you, watching as you sat up groggily next to him. He raised his eyebrows, laughing just slightly at your groggy face.

“How long was I out?” You muttered, running your hands through your hair.

“Only about twenty minutes.” Peter responded with a shrug, “I thought you would be out longer.  You can go back to sleep if you want to.”

You shook your head softly, wrapping the blanket around your lap and quietly sitting next to him. The two of you stared at the punching bag, where a TV would normally be. He motioned to it, and with the most serious face he said:

“You know; this is my favorite TV show – “

You laughed out loud, bringing a hand up and swatting at his arm, and the two of you sat there and laughed for a little while. “Sorry I fell asleep.”

He shrugged softly. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Did you have a long night last night? We were up pretty late.”

You shook your head softly. “We weren’t up that late.” You laughed, “I actually went right to bed after you got me home. Did you read on the news about what happened last night? I didn’t stay up long enough to see.”

“Yeah, I read all about it this morning, actually,” Peter said, turning his whole body towards you on the couch. “Charge is back. And she helped a lot of people last night, with Spider-Man.”

You raised your eyebrows in feign shock. “Charge? She’s back, really?”

Peter nodded his head enthusiastically. “Yeah!” He said, talking with his hands, as if he were gossiping. “I’m surprised. Considering how much of a monster she is.”

His words hurt you, but you didn’t let it show. “Yeah.” You agreed, clearing your throat. “She did some pretty awful stuff.”

“Yeah, and she was the first one to show up!! She took down like four men all by herself before Spider-Man showed up!”

You raised your eyebrows, mouth hanging open, trying your best to act like you were surprised. “Where did you hear that?”

“A lot of the people that were hostages filmed the whole thing. This one video already has millions of views on Youtube! Here, I’ll pull it up.” Peter brought his phone closer to his face and opened up the app, typing in whatever into the search bar and holding it out and sideways so the both of you could watch it. And there you were, in your suit – hand outwards and blocking the first three shots. Just watching yourself beat the crap out of these guys from someone else’s perspective made the adrenaline start to pump. Peter clicked on another video of you picking up Trey in your arms and giving him to his mother, and the mushy encounter that followed. You smiled softly at the hug, wishing you could feel it again.

“She was this terrorist, this assassin.” Peter sighed, shaking his head. “But she saved a lot of people. It’s really interesting, don’t you think?”

You nodded your head softly, smiling a little sadly. “Yeah. Completely.”

Silence filled your empty apartment, and Peter put his phone away. He cleared his throat softly to try to fill the silence that had crossed over the two of you, glancing around your apartment.

“What did you get the bag for?” He asked quietly, motioning towards the pretty large, hanging punching bag.

You shrugged softly. “I used to fight. Did MMA. I figured it was a good idea to stay in shape.”

“Yeah.” He agreed, and more silence ensued.

He perked, an idea obviously popping into his head. “Hey,” he began, leaning onto the back of your couch on his side, “Let’s go get some lunch. Or… breakfast, in your case. My treat. And then I’ll take you on an adventure!”

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head at him. “An adventure?”

“Sure!” He smiled, leaning forward. “We can explore the city if you want to. We can go anywhere we want. And we should probably work on decorating your place.”

You glanced around at the empty apartment and its bare walls and smiled, nodding your head. “Yeah, okay,” You agreed, starting to get excited, “Hold on. Let me put on some real clothes.”

He laughed softly, nodding and turning back to his phone as you got up and went into your room, quickly shedding your sweatpants and grabbing a pair of jeans and pulling them on. You turned to your closet, debating. Should you wear your suit? What if something happened while you were out with Peter? You gnawed on your lip, deciding to put it on, just in case. You reached into the back of your closet and took off the rest of your clothes, quickly pulling the suit up and on, putting your MIT hoodie and jeans back on over it. You headed back outside, grabbing your wallet and keys and placing them into your hoodie pocket.

“Ready to go?” You asked, and Peter stared at you for a moment, and you weren’t sure why. You furrowed your brows at him, tilting your head. “What?”

He shook his head with a soft smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Nothing. Come on, let’s go. Don’t forget your phone.”

You smiled at him, grabbing your phone from the couch and following him out the door, locking it behind you. You trotted down the steps behind him and the two of you walked side by side down the sidewalk, talking idly and laughing softly at each other’s jokes.

Peter led you to his adorable diner just a few blocks away, and the two of you managed to snag seats next to the window. You sat across from each other, both staring outside into busy streets of Queens.

It wasn’t long before the waitress came up to the table. “So what can I get the happy couple?” The older woman asks cheerfully, and the two of you are dumbstruck for a moment, laughing nervously.

“Oh, we’re not-“ The two of you began, but she kept speaking.

“Not ready to order? That’s alright then, I’ll be back in a few.” She turned and left, and when you and Peter looked at each other again, you both burst out laughing.

The both of you reached for the menus you hadn’t realized someone had left, opening it and laughing to yourselves. You flipped to the breakfast portion, expecting nothing but eggs and pancakes, until your eyes landed on something you had never heard of before.

“Hey, Peter?” You began, feeling embarrassed.

“What’s up?” He encouraged, looking up from his menu and smiling over at you.

“What are waffles?”

Silence.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No,” You closed the menu, defending yourself, “I’m serious. I don’t know what they are.”

“You’ve never had waffles before?” He asked, shocked out of his mind.

“No.”

“Then you should try them! They’re really good.”

You narrowed your eyes over at him, but slowly nodded your head. “Okay…” You said as suspiciously as possible, and Peter laughed.

“I’m serious. They have a real good waffle here. I, however, am a normal human being and wake up at a normal human time, so I’m getting lunch.” You stuck your tongue out at him in retort and he laughed, and eventually the waitress came back.

“Ready to order?” She asked, getting out her pad, “Anything to drink?”

You opted for milk while Peter went with water, and the two of you ordered what you wanted to eat.

“Are you sure that you want to pay for this?” You asked with raised eyebrows, crossing your arms on the table once the waitress walked away.

He shrugged softly. “Of course. My treat. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks.”

“Of course.” He smiled. “Anyway,” he continued, leaning forward. “I really had a lot of fun last night. Up on the roof. We should do it more often.”

You smiled widely over at him, nodding your head. “I did, too. We really should. I loved listening to you speak. You know. About the universe and all that. I really enjoyed it.”

“I did too.” He whispered softly, glancing down at his hands. “Today’s Saturday, right?” He asked, tilting his head.

You nodded softly, feeling your heart swell at how cute he looked with his head tilted like that.

“Do you, maybe…” He began, but shook his head. “Nah, never mind.”

“What?”

“Do you want to sleep over tonight? You just… seem really lonely in your apartment.”

You sat for a while, blinking and staring over at him. He noticed your shock and quickly tried to cover it up.

“You know, you don’t have to – it’s – it’s okay, I understand-“

“I don’t know, Peter…” You began, quieting him and rubbing your arm. “I’ve never slept over a friend’s house before and… I get nightmares.”

“I know you do..” Peter murmured, his eyes downcast, “It’s okay. I’m sorry for asking.”

You pursed your lips, staring at your gloves. You thought about it.

“Okay.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s so sudden and – wait what?”

“Okay. I’ll sleep over tonight.” You smiled softly over at him.

Peter raised his eyebrows in shock. “Really?” He smiled widely. “That’s awesome! We’ll watch so many movies! Which ones haven’t you seen?”

“A lot.” You laughed and Peter laughed with you.

It wasn’t long before your food came, and when the waffle was placed in front of you, Peter took out his phone and snapped a quick picture of you, telling you to smile.

“______’s first waffle! Love it.” He laughed, putting his phone away, and the two of you continued to eat. You talked about more of whatever – anything that either of you could think of you talked about. You ate quickly and when you had finished, Peter put the amount needed to pay on the table and the two of you stood up and left. You headed for the Queensboro bridge, laughing as you walked across it and into lower Manhattan, just walking around. The two of you had walked for a while, and it wasn’t long until you reached Times Square. You stopped in front of the HUGE Toys R Us, staring up at it with a small smile, Peter watching the wonder on your face.

You walked inside, just walking around and staring at everything, laughing at everything, pointing – you loved every minute of it. Peter couldn’t help but smile and stare. His hand slowly moved and fit into yours. You looked down at it, but didn’t pull away. You liked the way his hand felt in yours. You were in the store for at least an hour, when Peter suddenly let go of your hand. You turned around to see him pick up one of those huge giraffes, smiling and laughing with you.

“I’m getting this for your apartment.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Peter, no-“

“Peter, yes,” He laughed, and you could only laugh in response, following him to the checkout where he bought you the massive stuffed animal, holding it under his arm as you left the store. With his free hand he took yours again, and together you started to head back to Queens. About a half hour later, you were in front of your apartment. You unlocked the door and walked in, laughing as Peter placed it right in the middle of the room.

“Right here. Perfect.”

You laughed for a little while longer before he turned to look at you. “Hey,” he began with a smile, “Come have dinner with me and Aunt May again tonight. She really loves you.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head. “Sure.” You responded, “Hold on. I’ll be right there.”

You grabbed your backpack and walked into your room, dumping the contents from school and quickly taking off your suit, shoving it at the bottom of the bag along with the vibranium gloves, and then packing the sweatpants you were wearing this morning and another shirt and jeans. You slung it over your shoulder and walking out with Peter, shutting off the lights and locking the door behind you once more.

For the rest of the day you watched movies on the couch with Peter at his apartment, with your head gently leaning on his shoulder. You liked it. You liked it a lot. When dinner rolled around, Aunt May had ordered pizza and the three of you talked and smiled about the future. Aunt May asked you about your MIT hoodie, to which you responded quickly that your mother went there.

You watched two more movies before the both of you were seriously tired, and Aunt May said that it was okay for you to sleep over, just not in the same room. Peter rolled his eyes teasingly at his aunt but agreed, asking you if you wanted to sleep in his room or on the pull out couch. Aunt May teased him and told him to be a gentleman and let you have the more comfortable space – his bed. Peter agreed and when you went to the bathroom to change into your sweatpants and tank top, he had gone and cleared off his bed for you.

He wished you goodnight and a small hug, leaving and closing the door behind him with a smile. You got into his bed, smiling that it smelled like him – and heard faintly through the door Peter telling Aunt May that you got nightmares and not to be too scared if I made any noise. You sighed, closing your eyes. And before you knew it, you had gone right to sleep.

And when you woke up crying from a nightmare like you knew you would, Peter quickly rushed into the room, staring at you sitting up with your elbows resting on your bent knees, holding your head. He quickly rushed over to your crying form and held you close, bringing you to lay back down and holding you tightly to his chest. You held him back tightly, missing the feeling of being hugged – as it was something you only recently experienced. You held on so tightly you were afraid you might rip his shirt, but it wasn’t long before you had gone back to sleep in Peter’s arms, where you stayed until the morning.

first chapter here!

next part: here!

tag list: @bangtanjm @143amberrose @thekayceenicole

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part v!)

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: buncha cursing, hostage situation, guns

word count: 3,097

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues.         

        You really did not know how late it was. How late had you stayed up with Peter, on that rooftop, talking about the universe? How long had you laid there, on your back, staring up at the infinite – at the baffling nothingness above you and what it could have possibly contained. What time was it? It felt late. But you had no watch to check, and even if you did, you didn’t have any time to check it; you were too busy running for Subway Platform B. You held on tightly to the piping in your hand, taking a look down at it.

               It was rusty, but it was not particularly old. It still held most of its silver shine – the rust had not taken its full control over the metal. It was a decent size, roughly three and a half feet in length. A little longer than a baseball bat, you decided, but not by much. It was a good length to swing with.

               You turned a corner and stopped harshly when you saw the blue and red flashing lights, of all the cars around the subway entrance, and men standing around trying to decide the best course of action. You looked around, trying to figure out what you could possibly do – how could you get by them? Surely if you tried they would stop you, and if they all ran in after you then the men holding hostages could get spooked and start shooting. You didn’t want that, you had to get in quietly, and maybe not through any entrances.

               You snuck into an alleyway, pressing your back against the wall and deciding that you were pretty rusty when it came to missions like this. Even though every instinct and nerve within your body itched and even burned to just attack and not worry who lives or dies, you knew that wasn’t the way things worked anymore. You couldn’t do that anymore. You weren’t who you used to be.

               You poked your head out of the alleyway, looking at the street lights that illuminated the asphalt below. You hummed to yourself, holding up a gloved hand towards the lights a few hundred feet back.

               Zzztt!

               Electricity the color of your hood and tip-dyed gloves (so, in other words, your favorite color) shot from your fingertips and invaded the plastic covers of the lights, worming its way inside and POP! POP! BANG! BANG!

               The exploding lights sounded almost like gunshots, and the men around the cars immediately got down and drew their guns, facing the opposite way of the entrance. You knew the alleyway you were in opened up again a block down. You knew you had to time this right. If the men were looking the other way, then you could simply slip by without a soul noticing. You looked to the last few lights at the end of the block, aimed your hand outwards, and fired. You knew it would hit its target. You turned and sprinted down the alleyway, making turns where necessary and just as you came over to the other side, the Subway entrance was right there –

               POP! POP!

               No one was watching, and you jumped right down into the stairwell without any eyes on you. Well, except maybe a pair behind a red and black spider-themed mask. You walked down the steps, heart pounding and brows furrowed – you knew you looked intimidating, with your hair slicked back and the black covering the upper half of your face, the mask covering the lower half. You were terrifying, and you knew it. And so did everybody else.

               You turned the corner, taking it all in, but you never stopped walking. People, sitting on the ground, their hands over their heads, children hiding and crying beside their mothers and fathers. Numerous prayer circles had been created, and everyone in them hushed their begs for mercy. People had their eyes closed, many were crying. One dead man lay on the ground – an example, for the others.

               The men and their assault rifles turned towards you, and everyone’s eyes raised to their savior. But nobody thought you were their savior; they had seen you on TV. They had seen you at your worst, when the police were after you, when the army was after you. But nobody knew. Nobody really knew.

               Everyone screamed or cried out in fear at the sight of you, and the men with the guns were visibly startled and unsure what to do.

               “Dude, oh my god, is that fucking Charge, man- “

               “Don’t just stand there!” someone you assumed was the leader shouted, “Shoot her down!”

               One man raised his gun and you immediately turned to him. You continued walking forward towards him – you could see him shaking. They were all shaking. You held a hand out in front of his gun as you walked forward, and he fired three times. Each bullet simply lost its momentum when it hit your vibranium gloves and either fell to the ground or bounced off of your hands. When he realized his mistake and began to aim lower, you were already too close. You gripped the gun in one hand, roughly pulling it to the side with your left, dropping the pipe and punching with your right, whipping the man’s head to the side. You watched as he fell to the floor, unconscious, with a most likely broken jaw.

               A man without a gun stupidly charged at you with a knife, where you easily disarmed him - he swung downwards with the knife in his hand. With your right hand you grabbed the crook of his elbow before the knife could land, bringing your left hand and jamming it right into his gut – ZZZZZTT!!! He fell to the ground, spasming from the shock, but not dead. You promised yourself you wouldn’t kill anymore. You just had to be careful how much charge you put into your attacks.

               You turned to the rest of the men. There were eight more, at least – you didn’t know if any were hiding anywhere. You bent down and picked up your pipe, twirling it in your hand and watching the metal zap and jump with the (f/c) electricity moving around it. It glowed in your hand as you moved it, taking this opportunity to take in more of your surroundings.

               “Mommy, mommy is that Charge?” you heard, your (e/c) glancing over to the child’s voice. You noticed the little girl, hugging her mother’s side on the ground as the two of them watched you carefully.  

               “Yes, sweetie.” The mother answered, her voice trembling and scared as she stared at you, holding onto her child as if you would try to take her from her.

               “Is she going to hurt us, Mommy?”

               You shook your head at the mother, staring right at her – you knew she was watching you.

               “No, honey.” The mother whispered, and you could almost see a wave of relief wash over her face. “She’s here to save us.”

               At that moment another man with a bat ran up, getting ready to swing downwards onto your head like an idiot, but you were faster. You swung the pipe as hard as you could, letting the electricity flow through it, like a glorified Taser-Stick. It collided right with his side – ZZZZTT!! – a flash of light, and the man went flying into the tile wall, hitting it hard and falling face first onto the ground.

               Steve and Tony told you that the people would be scared of you. You knew that. You knew that it would take them a long time to turn away from your past, to realize that you were not the same assassin that did S.H.I.E.L. D’s dirty work – but you would help, now. You would help. You promised yourself that you would finally help.

               The other men with guns – roughly six – raised their guns to you.

               “STOP RIGHT THERE!!” The man in the middle yelled at you, motioning for a man beside him to move. The man reached into the people sitting among the line of hostages and grabbed a girl, roughly your age, to stand. She screamed, crying, covering her eyes and begging not to be shot. The man pointed his gun at her.

               “You make one fucking move, she’s dead. You make one move, you’re dead. Try me, you Charge bitch. I dare you.”

               You took a deep breath, trying your best to stay calm. The man in the middle kept his gun at you.

               “Cover the exits.” He ordered the other men, “Make sure no one else gets in or out.”

               The men dispersed, slowly, their guns raised and ready. Now, it was just the man pointing his gun at you, and the other pointing his at the crying girl. You dropped the pipe and slowly raised the both of your hands, one pointed to each man.

               “PUT YOUR FUCKING HANDS DOWN!” the man yelled at you, but his words had no meaning – you shot right out of your left hand a long bolt, and as fast as light the electricity struck the man holding his gun to the girl’s head. He convulsed, his gun flying from his hand. It took almost six seconds of him spasming before he slowly collapsed to the ground. The man in the middle fired off five shots – which your hand was ready for. Two rounds hit your open palm as you walked towards him. Two missed – one very painfully grazed your thigh. You stopped walking for a moment, shocked by the pain, and he aimed to fire again, when suddenly a white web attached itself to the top of his rifle and forced the gun upwards and out of his hands. The man looked up to see who was messing with him now when a web shot right onto his face, lifting him off the ground and into the rafters.

               You looked around the subway hastily, making sure there was no current threat, and turned to everyone on the ground, who still seemed to shy away from you, even if they hadn’t meant to. “Everybody, out! Come on, move!” you ordered, the distortion device on your mask changing your voice just slightly so it was unrecognizable. You helped the elderly to their feet around hundreds of people getting up and running for the exits. You kept looking up towards the ceiling – you had no idea where Spider-Man was and if he would attack you. You knew that he helped you take down the men, he was most likely the one that took the others guarding the exits, but you also knew that you had a bad history with superheroes.

               “Mommy! Mommy!” You turned amongst the rushing people to see a little boy, no older than three, missing his mother. You didn’t blame her – she might have gotten pulled away by the crowd. You pushed through the people, getting knocked around a little bit, but you got to the little boy leaning against a column. He was crying. You leaned down and held your hands out to him, and he continued to cry a little louder, he was obviously afraid of you. Grown men were afraid of you, it didn’t surprise you that this baby boy was, too.

               You brought a hand up to your mask and momentarily switched off the distorter in front of your mouth so he could hear a real voice, from a real woman – you hoped it would be enough to comfort him. “I’m going to help you find your mommy.” You said quietly, kneeling in front of him with the patience of a saint, holding your hands out for him to take. “I will. I promise. I won’t let you or mommy get hurt, it’s over now.” The boy looked at you with a slight skepticism, but missing his mother took precedent. He ran into your arms, still crying, and wrapped his arms tightly around your neck. With one arm underneath his legs, you hoisted him onto your hip and made for the exit. With your free hand, you placed the distorter back on, jogging quickly up the steps.

               When you emerged the police were still there, helping people get out safely from the exits, ambulances waiting for people who needed help. A woman was there, her tears staining her dark skin, trying to get past the police barricade, but they would not let her through. “My baby boy is still down there!” She screamed, trying to get past, trying to get to her son, but when she saw you with her boy in your arms… You would never forget the look of relief and joy on her face to see him again. This time the police did not stop her as she ran towards you, crying and smiling. You handed the little boy over to her, and you couldn’t help but love how tightly she held him, how she rocked him, how much she told him she loved him…

               She set her boy down after a minute and turned to you. The gratitude in her eyes seemed to flow with her tears, and with a sniffle she opened her arms to you, enveloping you in a hug. You were shocked – at first you didn’t know how to react. A civilian never showed their gratitude towards you, only their fear. But after a moment you hugged her back tightly, and the two of you stood there for only a few more seconds before you pulled away.

               “Thank you.” She whispered, still sniffling, “Thank you for saving me and my boy.”

               You nodded to her, and the two of you held each other’s hands for a moment.

               “The minute I saw you on the news,” she whispered, smiling, “I knew you were a badass lady.” The two of you smiled and laughed, even though you knew she couldn’t see your smile. “You have a past, baby, but you’ve redeemed yourself tonight.” A small silence. “His name is Trey, and you will always be his hero. Now, go – I bet there are some more down there that need your help.”

               You nodded, brows furrowing, and let go of her hands, turning and running back down the steps. When you reached the bottom, you saw Spider-Man standing there, doing what you had done before, helping people up and out and leading them to the exit. There weren’t many people left, just some remaining people and the men that you had taken out on the ground. Four, you had taken out. Now there weren’t any people in the platform, just you and Spider-Man, staring each other down. It seemed as if the two of you were waiting for either one to make a move, but neither one of you wanted a fight.

               “Are you really Charge?” He asked you, and wow, if only he only knew that he already met you on that rainy night. “The assassin?”

               You nodded your head slowly, but did not speak.

               “You’ve been gone for a long time. Everybody thought your actions finally caught up with you.”

               Again, you did not respond. He continued to speak.

               “So, why are you here? Helping these people. You got here a lot faster than I did. I thought you lived a life of killing, not saving.”

               “Not anymore.” You responded quietly. “I don’t want to kill.”

               Spider-Man only stared at you, when suddenly he looked up, catching a small metal device in his hands. So that’s what spider sense was.

               “I’LL KILL YOU, YOU RED FUCK!” Yelled the man from the rafters – he was the one that dropped the device. Your eyes widened, and you sprinted towards the clueless Spider staring at the metal in his hands. You ripped the device from him, throwing it as far and hard as you could down the empty platform – BOOM! You weren’t as quick as you had wanted to be, and the blast knocked the both of you around a little bit, but neither of you were injured. Spider-Man turned to you, baffled.

               “You saved my life – “He began, but you turned and ran for an adjacent exit where no police were waiting, running for an alleyway and leaping up the fire escape – grabbing railing where you needed to and pulling yourself up until you reached the rooftops, where you ran. You hadn’t done this in a long time, and you groaned slightly when the roof ended. You planted your foot on the edge and leaped for the next one, landing it and rolling, getting up quickly and continuing to run.

               “Wait!” You heard a yell, and you stopped to see Spider-Man standing there on the roof across from you. “Who are you?”

               You gave him a ‘seriously?’ kind of look.

               “Ok...” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “Stupid question. I know, whatever. Just… How can I trust you? You used to be a killer. What if this is just some act? I can’t- “

               You shot a hand out and a little zap! left your fingertips. It hit him in the abdomen and he jolted, falling on his back.

               “Ow...” he muttered, rolling onto his side in a ball.

               “Sorry.” You replied, turning and continuing to run. You slipped into the alleyways, running through the gaps between the buildings until you made it back to your own. You scaled the wall as best you could, quickly slipping through your open window and shutting it behind you. You let out a deep breath, collapsing to a sit on the hardwood floor beneath you. You pulled your mask down, taking deep breaths and running your hands through your hair. You did it. You succeeded, and you saved a lot of lives.

               You stood from the ground, still slightly in shock, and went for the bathroom, taking another shower to wash out the hair gel and black makeup around your eyes. When you closed your eyes to wash off the makeup, the only thing you could see was that little boy, holding on to you, his mother, so thankful that you brought him back to her.

               “You have a past, baby, but you’ve redeemed yourself tonight.”

               You shut off the shower, grabbing a towel and walking into your room. You stared at the luggage on the ground; you still needed to unpack. You quickly got changed into a loose t-shirt and sweats, collapsing onto the bed and worming your way under the covers. You closed your eyes, feeling the exhaustion roll over you in waves.

               “His name is Trey, and you will always be his hero.”

                first chapter here!

next part: here!

tag list: @bangtanjm

[lameinserts]

lol such a small thing to notice, but the school in the peter fic is on a block schedule! i've never heard of any other school besides mine having that! i'm guessing your school is like that and also has minis? lol this is such a weird thing to notice

LOL yes my school has 80 minute block scheduling!!! I feel like it's just easier irl so it's also easier to write about lol!!

[lameinserts]

love your writing! ❤🌸

thank you!!(∩˃o˂∩)♡

[lameinserts]

Masterlist

woo more to come

MAZE RUNNER

funny story - i wrote this (insanely long) story before I made this account. So here:

Don’t Let Go

MARVEL

right as rain, soft as snow (spider-man) 1 2 3 4 (more coming soon! <3)

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part iv)

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: like, another bad word, mention of bullying??

word count: 3,784

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues.  

               Friday had been a lot like the day before. Except this time, Natasha didn’t need to drive you because you could just walk. That morning Peter had insisted of walking to school with you, so you patiently waited for him on the steps as you saw him jogging up to you. You glanced down to your phone – he was almost twenty minutes late. You hadn’t even noticed.

               “Hey, I’m sorry!” He called, breathing a little heavily, “I got a little caught up. Thanks for waiting for me, again, I’m really sorry.”

               “It’s okay.” You smiled over at him, standing up from the stoop, feeling the suit beneath your clothes shift easily as you changed your position. It always kind of bunched up at the elbows, though. You brought your hands up to adjust it, and Peter glanced down at your gloves for a moment. “Let’s go to school.”

               The two of you walked side by side, glancing around at the morning scape of Queens. “You know,” Pete began, motioning lightly towards your gloves. “Those look seriously familiar. I can’t place it, though.”

               You felt your heartbeat increase slightly, but you smiled up at him. “Maybe because you saw me wear them yesterday, Peter.” You laughed, and you felt relief as he smiled and laughed along with you.

               “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He shrugged softly, “But hey, they’re really cool gloves. They look really warm and comfy.”

               “I suppose they are,” You murmured as you held your hands up to look at them. “I have a bunch of pairs, I kind of need them.”

               “What do you have?” He asked, and you paused, just looking at him as the two of you walked. “You know, your skin thing. If you don’t mind me asking. Is it like, really serious? Is it contagious? Is that why you wear the gloves?”

               You looked away for a moment, pursing your lips. “No, it’s not contagious, it’s just… painful. And it’s ugly.” You furrowed your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders. “It has a long name. Apparently it’s rare but, I try to forget about it, you know? But it, uh, it hurts. And the gloves help, a little bit.” You weren’t completely lying, Tony made those gloves to help your abilities. Because you had a difficult time controlling it, and because that’s what it was – painful. The gloves that you wore helped you suppress it, as to not cause any damage. You remembered what had happened before you had the gloves. Why you ran. Why you had to run.

               “______?”

               You looked up at him, snapping out of it. “Yeah?”

               “Sorry, you just… You seemed a little bit out of it. Are you okay? Was it your nightmare? Do you want to talk about it?”

               You smiled. You felt kind of bad for waking him up the night before so he could keep you some company, even if it was just over text. “No, thank you.” You answered, smiling and gently nudging him as you got closer and closer to school. “But thanks, by the way. For just talking to me last night. It helped a lot.”

               “I had a feeling it would.” Peter whispered as you turned the corner and you could see the school in front of you. “I know how you feel. I get nightmares sometimes, too.”

               You furrowed your eyebrows. “About what?”

               Peter shrugged. “A lot of different things. You know, why I live with my Aunt and not my parents.”

               The conversation seemed to sober. “I’m sorry.”

               “Nah, it’s… it’s been a while. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it, really.”

               “If you want to talk, like you helped me the night before, I’m here, okay?”

               “Yeah.” He smiled down at you, nudging you back. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

               You smiled back to him as the two of you walked begrudgingly up the steps.

               “You finished your Chemistry homework, right?” he laughed, and you laughed with him as you walked together to your lockers.

 ________

                The rest of the day had been regular enough, and quite similar to before. You had managed to find your homeroom in the morning and make your way to Chemistry without Peter, even though he seemed worried that you wouldn’t make it when you walked into class. You smiled and talked quietly after the lecture had ended, and once the class was over he dropped you off at Russian. Calculus had also gone quite similarly – it was quiet and filled with notetaking. Art was a little more fun this time, you did a partner project; you drew two different pictures but made one point the same so they would connect. It was actually a lot of fun. You didn’t have an art class with S.H.I.E.L.D.

               You walked back to your lockers with Peter, talking about the project you had done together, when suddenly Peter was pushed into the blue metal beside you. You turned to see a taller man, built and enveloped by his letter jacket with a stupid grin on his face. He was saying something, but to be completely honest you weren’t really listening – the only thing you cared about was that he was pushing your friend pretty hard.

               Without even thinking of the consequences you dropped your books and shoved the kid away with a surprising amount of strength (although not surprising to you or anyone else who knew you had enhanced abilities), knocking him easily to the ground a few feet away. Everyone in the hallway around you seemed to stop what they were doing at stare, and all eyes were wide and gaping, including Peter’s, who you now stood in front of, with your arms crossed. Your hands itched to reach for your gloves and cause some real damage, but you knew that you couldn’t. Not in front of all these people, and especially when you couldn’t know what might happen.

               “Who the hell are you?!” the kid screamed on the ground as his goony friends in their own varsity jackets pulled him to his feet.

               “______,” Peter began, putting a hand on your shoulder and trying to pull you away as the both of you watched the offender crack his knuckles and roll his shoulders. “Drop it, it’s okay, I’m fine-“

               “I’m his friend.” You answered sternly, uncrossing your arms to show that you weren’t afraid of a fight.

               “Where the hell did you even come from?” He questioned, straightening out his letter jacket to try and seem bigger. It didn’t intimidate you. You had taken down bigger. Your palms itched to take off those gloves, but you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. “What hole did you crawl out of?”

               “One a lot less deep than the hole you came from.”

               He seethed in anger, and you could see his little white face getting redder and redder by the moment. He clenched and unclenched his fists, glancing around, unsure of what to do. He threw his arms downwards, letting out a deep breath from the bottom of his lungs.

               “Yeah, whatever.” He grumbled, getting close to your face. You didn’t back down. “If you push me again, I won’t be afraid to hit a girl.”

               He turned to leave, but you reached a hand up and grabbed his t-shirt, pulling him back and down closer to you. “You get near him again; I’ll end your life.” You roughly pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards, obviously startled and slightly frazzled. He huffed again, before motioning his goons to follow him and walking away.

               You turned and everyone was gaping at you, especially Peter.

               “That... was awesome.” Peter grinned, and you smiled back at him. “Thank you. No one’s ever done that for me before. You really didn’t have to.”

               You furrowed your eyebrows at him, shaking your head softly. “I’m your friend.” You answered simply, “Friends fight for each other.” There was silence for a few moments. “And I know you would fight for me, too.”

               Peter smiled a little softer that time, nodding his head in response. “Yeah.” He murmured back, “I would.” The two of you grabbed what you needed from your respective lockers and you both met again to walk out of the school. “Hey, do you want to come over for dinner tonight? Aunt May really wants to have you over. She’s excited that I made a friend.”

               You laughed softly, thinking about it. “Yeah, sure. Totally, why not? When should I come over?”

               “Whenever you want.” Peter shrugged, and the both of you turned the street corner. “We eat dinner kind of late, so seriously, come over whenever you want to. It’s a Friday. You can even stay the night if you want to.”

               You smiled at his kindness, nodding your head. “I’ll think about it.”

               The rest of your conversation was filled with random fillers about your day, your classes – you talked about how you didn’t really like your Calculus teacher all too much, Peter agreed. Peter enjoyed the project you were working on together in art, you also agreed. You had stopped in front of your apartment before you even realized it. You looked up to your door, furrowing your brows and glancing back to Peter. “Isn’t your house a few blocks back?”

               Peter shrugged, holding the straps to his backpack. “I wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

               You smiled over at him, and you wondered: oh, if only he knew how well you could actually handle yourself. “Thanks, Peter. I’ll text you later.” You turned and walked up your small set of steps, surprised you hadn’t noticed the huge cardboard box which sat at your doorstep.

               “Bye, ____. See you later.” He smiled, eyeing the box for a moment, and you could tell that he was debating whether or not he should ask if you needed help, but by your waving and unlocking the door, he decided that you hadn’t. He turned and walked away, looking down at his shoes, and you waited until he turned the corner to drag the box inside. You saw AMAZON written across it and you wondered, what in the world is that? As if it weren’t the biggest shipping company on earth – you really didn’t know much of anything.

               You ripped open the box after shutting the door behind you, getting down on your knees to see a smaller box on top of a… punching bag? You took the smaller box out, white and plain, and opened it carefully to see a small note.

               So you don’t ruin the ceiling in your new place.

               -Tony and Steve

               You took out the small metal contraption, pushing the button on it and watching the four, wide legs and the flat top on the other end glow a light blue. You knew what this was, Tony had invented it a year or so ago. It was like a suspension device so you didn’t have to put screws anywhere. Just to see if it would work, you stuck it to the wall, where it hung perfectly, and then grabbed your surprisingly heavy backpack and held it right in front of the blue top. You watched in amazement as the bag - without even touching it - attach to the device, and after you let go, it just floated there, in midair. You pushed the button to deactivate it and caught both your bag and the device successfully. You put the two things down and went for the cardboard box, pulling out the punching bag and kicking the cardboard aside.

               You held it up by its chain. It was the average size for a hanging bag, you noted, and looked around your apartment to decide where to hang it. There was a lot of space, but you also wondered if you should put it in your “parents’” room. You decided against it – wondering what Peter would think if he accidentally walked in there and saw just the punching bag and a bed. You decided you would place it in the large space between the kitchenette and where a TV obviously used to be –but you didn’t have any need for a TV, so the punching bag would do fine. You slipped off your shoes, listening to the soft thudding of your feet against the hardwood floor as you crossed it to get a chair to stand on. You dragged it over to where you supposed was a good spot, turning on the device once more and placing it on the ceiling, bringing the bag close and watching it hang effortlessly there, despite how heavy it was.

               You nodded, happy with your work and put the chair back where it belonged. You stared at the punching back in front of you, rolling up your sleeves to reveal the black suit and gave the leather one rough punch. You watched it swing just slightly. It was a heavy one. You removed your shirt and jeans, revealing the suit that Tony had made for you, and gave the bag a kick. A punch, a kick.

               The next time you locked at the clock, an hour had passed, and the only thing you had done was hit this bag. You stepped away from it, sweating, and wiped your forehead on your sleeve. You turned to look in the mirror hanging on the wall, and stared right at yourself. You ran to your room, grabbing at a (favorite color) piece of fabric which you pulled over your head, letting it sit snugly around your neck, attaching the pieces at the end to the neckline of your suit. You grabbed the remaining fabric, pulling it up over the lower half of your face, all the way up to the middle of your nose – your mask. Tony often called you a ninja, because that was what it kind of looked like; a ninja mask. The straps fit well behind your ears. You liked your mask. You felt slightly more at ease behind it, bringing up your hands and continuing your assault on the leather.

               You didn’t stop until your phone buzzed. You let your arms hang at your sides, pulling down your mask and walking over to it.

               I’ll pick you up in an hour???

               You unlocked your phone to reply.

               Yeah, sure, ill see you then

               You set your phone back down and turned back down the hallway, stepping into the bathroom and turning on the water, starting the difficult process of getting your skintight suit off. You stepped into the tub, letting the hot water hit you and trying not to get your gloves too wet. You held your hands behind you as you got your hair drenched, stepping away from the water to clean your hair and everything else you had to. You stepped out of the shower in less than ten minutes, wrapping yourself in a towel and heading into your room. You plopped onto your bed and sort of stared up at the ceiling, counting each individual crack and mark that you saw. You waited for your hair to dry, and then stood to find something to wear. You were nervous about meeting Aunt May. Adults were never really your friends, especially not strangers. It had taken you a long time to get used to the Avengers, you really only connected with Wanda – because she was a kid like you. And you went through similar things.

               You pulled your suit back on, trying to get it to fit snuggly over your still kind of wet skin. It proved to be difficult, but you managed. You rummaged through your luggage bag to find another sweater, slipping it over your head and making sure the sleeves were long enough to cover the suit underneath, and then stepping into a smooth, leathery pair of leggings. You grabbed towel to dry your hair a little more before heading out into the kitchen to wait for Peter.

               On my way!!!

               You grabbed your phone and shoved it in your pocket, walking over to the door and heading outside to sit on the steps and wait for Peter. You idly glanced at your phone, looking up when Peter eventually stood in front of you. “Ready to go?”

               You stood and nodded your head at him, trotting down the steps to walk beside him on the streets of Queens. You had walked into his apartment building, up the steps and through the hallways until you stopped at his door. You took a deep breath, rolling your shoulders slightly in preparation. Peter opened the door and you were greeted with a feeling you had never truly felt or even witnessed before – home. Peter’s apartment was so warm and absolutely screamed home to you, and you were a little overwhelmed. It must have shown on your face, because the woman you could only assume was Aunt May looked a little concerned standing in front of you.

               “Hey, sweetie,” she said softly, smiling at you, “You doin’ okay?”

               You nodded, sniffling and wiping at your eyes, not even realizing you had teared up for a minute there. “Yeah, hi- yeah, I’m fine. Allergies. I’m ______.”

               “So I’ve heard.” She smiled a little wider, relieved that everything seemed to be okay. “And believe me, I’ve heard a lot.” Peter gave her a wide-eyed look, to which you laughed at. “Come on, sit down. Food should be ready soon.”

               The rest of the night had gone beautifully, and you had never been so happy before. She had made the three of you raviolis, which you thought were really good, and she was so kind and welcoming. You had never felt welcomed before. You loved every minute of it. You wanted to live there, with them. But you knew that just wasn’t possible.

               After dinner you and Peter kind of vegged out in his room for a few minutes, before Peter sat up. “Hey, you wanna go on the roof?” You sat up slowly from your spot on his bed, nodding slowly. Peter grabbed his radio and opened his window, where the two of you walked up the fire escape steps, all the way up to the roof. Laughing, you laid down on the cement and stared up at the blackened sky and at the small white lights that shone above you. You tried to count the stars, which was something you used to do, but found yourself getting distracted. The two of you laid there in silence, amazed at the wonders of the world around you, listening to the universe itself whispering to you – of all the possibilities there could ever be.

               “Don’t you think it’s amazing?” Peter asked after a while, his voice soft.

               “What’s amazing?” You asked, turning your head to look at him. Peter turned his head to look at you, and then back up to the starry sky.

               “You know. How far light goes in the universe. And all that. You know, the infinite and everything.”          

               He turned to you to see if you were following, and you blinked softly over at him, quiet, silently urging him to go on.

               He shrugged softly, tilting his head. “You know, the infinite. How much is out there. How amazing it is that you and I even exist. There’s so much, and we’re so small, and… It’s just amazing, is all. It’s beautiful. That we exist.”

               He turned to look at you, and you were awestruck. You didn’t even know what to say. You were just amazed. You nodded softly. “Keep talking.” You whispered, feeling the intense sadness that overwhelmed the pit of your stomach for your entire life swell up inside you at his inspiring words. “Please. Keep going.”

               Peter stared at you for a long time, but eventually he turned his gaze back up and just… talked. About the infinite. And how rare it is that the two of you existed, how amazing it was that you had met, even with all of the possibilities that could have been presented. You existed, and that meant something. He rose a hand to the sky to point, watching as his hand seemed to stretch over the sky and expand the universe before you – how he amazingly had the world beneath his hand and the stars in his palm.

               You sat up there for hours and listened to him just speak about the endlessness of the abyss above you, of the light, the unknown, the chances – when you were interrupted by the speaking of a radio host that you hadn’t realized you were listening to.

               “Subway Platform B….. Armed men taking hostages….” The static drowned out most of the words but the two of you got the general idea. The both of you sat up, staring at each other fearfully.

               This was your chance. This was your chance to fight, in public, for the first time. You never fought with the Avengers before. Technically you were just another powered vigilante.

               “I think… I think you should go home.”

               “Yeah.” You whispered, nodding your head. “Yeah. I’ll run home.” The two of you ran back down the fire escape, the two of you running through the front door before Aunt May could ask anything. You ran down the street, surprised at Peter’s stamina.

               “You don’t have to come with me!” You said as you ran closer to your apartment.

               “You have to get home safe!!” He responded, the two of you stopping at your door.

               “You have to get home safe too, okay?” You asked as you trotted up the steps.

               “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you later, ____.” With that he turned and ran back down the street, turning the corner sharply. You unlocked the door and ran inside, quickly slipping off your clothes and making sure your suit was on right, placing the mask up your chin and over your nose, looking in the mirror to make sure your eyes were visible. You ran to your room and grabbed some hair gel, slicking your hair back and quickly reaching into the bag again to grab your big container of black eyeshadow, packing it onto your fingers and smudging it over your eyes (like bucky did in the second captain america movie, remember???) , the black around your eyes making your (e/c) eyes look especially intimidating. You reached for the gloves with the dyed tips, slipping them on and feeling the energy pulsing through your hands. Making sure you were properly dressed, you ran for the window that faced the building next to you, opening it and slipping out, landing unseen into alley below. You grabbed a loose pipe on the ground, and, tapping it against the cement and hearing it ring, ran for Subway Platform B.

first chapter here!

next part: here!

tag list: @bangtanjm

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part iii)

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: there like, one bad word

word count: 3,550

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues.  

               You texted him for the rest of the day, lying in bed and talking about anything and everything. You laid on your back in your new, uncomfortable bed, holding the phone up close to your face and just… talking to him. Letting your thumbs move as quickly as they could, you smiled to yourself, laughing at each of the little jokes he made throughout your conversation. At some point, he called you.

               You furrowed your brows – why could you see yourself?

               Peter Parker would like to FaceTime with you…

               You touched the green button with your thumb and suddenly you could see Peter, sitting at a desk in his home, looking at you with a slightly confused smile on his face as he looked at what he saw – your furrowed brows and the top of your eyes.

               “Attractive.” He commented with a laugh, shaking his mechanical pencil in his hand. “Has anyone told you how pretty your eyes are?” He was joking, but you could almost sense an ounce of truth and sincerity in there. You gasped lightly in surprise once you understood and you laughed, sitting up in bed and holding the phone up so he could see you, too. “Hey, ______.”

               “Hi, Peter. What’s up? Got tired of typing?”

               “Well, yeah, that,” he laughed, “And that I wanted to ask if you finished the Calculus homework.” You furrowed your eyebrows. Oh, yeah. You went to school now – you had to do homework.

               “Um, no, honestly I haven’t started.” You answered, glancing at the clock. “I mean, it’s only 5PM.”

               “You wait until last minute to do your homework?” Peter asked with a small laugh, his eyes trailing around the apartment as you stood to walk out of your room, searching around for something like a desk. You decided to sit at the small table in the kitchenette, looking outside the small window at the beautiful view – the brick wall of the other building. You sighed softly, placing down your phone on the table and grabbing your backpack to empty everything out onto the table. Thankfully, you brought home everything with you, not realizing what to leave at school and what to bring home. You remembered Peter had even commented about it – that it was a lot to carry. You were strong enough.

               “No,” you laughed, setting your Chemistry book aside so you could lean your phone on it so he could see you. You flipped open your new Calculus book and notebook, asking what problems they were, to which they answered. You read over the directions and looked at the problems. “Oh!” you let out, closing your eyes and trying your hardest to remember. You had learned this.

               You closed your eyes a little harder – remembering – you would have been punished for not answering quickly enough. You remembered where you learned; dark, underground, damp, cold. You could still feel the ache in your wrists from being tied down to the desk, the throbbing in your head –

               “______?”

               You shook your head slightly, looking up at Peter through the tiny phone, at his concerned face. “You okay? You seem a little out of it.”

               You smiled softly, nodding your head and shrugging your shoulders as you looked down to the textbook beneath you. “Yeah, yeah – no, I’m fine.” You answered as you pulled your gloves farther down onto your hands. You noticed Peter looking at them, even through the phone. “So, what don’t you get about this problem?” You asked, trying to change the situation from your slight flashback.

               “I don’t know,” he murmured, scratching at his hair, “I think just the end of it.”

               “Okay, so..” you began, and the two of you talked about Calculus and how to do the rest of the problems for another half hour, and eventually, you had gotten Peter to understand.

               “Oh, I get it,” he murmured in revelation. “Hold on – let me do this one by myself.”

               You nodded softly and worked on the problem in silence, glancing up from the textbook every now and then to make sure that your numbers were right. You waited patiently as the boy through the phone checked his answers and numbers, and you watched him, your chin leaning into your hand. He was quite attractive, you decided; very smart and respectable, kind and funny. You decided that the two of you would be great friends, no matter what Tony said. No matter what your past said about you. You would try your best to keep this friendship alive.

               “Is the answer 2?” Peter eventually asked, his initial certainty slowly turning into a flat out question.

               “It sure is!” you laughed softly, watching him give himself a little clap on the back in celebration.

               “Awesome. I get it now, thanks ______. Did you pick this up in class?” He asked, seemingly amazed at how quickly you learned the material that should have technically been new to you.

               “No, I knew it already. I learned it a while ago.” You answered, smiling sadly at the memory. You brushed it off the best that you could. “Homeschool curriculum is a little bit more intense, I guess.”

               “Yeah.” He answered, sensing your drop in mood, “I guess it is.”

               You smiled over at him, and the two of you completed all of your homework in general silence, just enjoying each other’s presence, in some weird way. You had finished your Russian homework quite quickly, and was asking Peter something or another about Chemistry when the connection seemed to be going in and out. “Hey, we’re breaking up,” you murmured, resting your chin on your arms as you watched the screen flicker just slightly every few moments.

               “Breaking up?” Peter cried, “I didn’t know that we were together!”

               It was a stupid joke, you knew it. It was so unbelievably stupid, but for some reason, that was what made it so funny. It started out as a small giggle, eventually breaking out into laughter that you couldn’t control. Peter laughed with you over the phone, and for some reason, you couldn’t stop. You decided to go along with it.

               “I think we’re moving too quickly! I want to end this relationship before it gets too serious.”

               “What?! I was going to ask you to marry me, ______!!” He replied, and after a few minutes, your laughter slowly subsided to a big smile. There was nothing to say for a while as the two of you worked on your homework.

               “That’s a nice apartment you got there.” Peter remarked, and you looked up to see his eyes travelling around his own screen. You took a glance behind you, looking at the clean, bare walls and floors.

               “Yeah,” you answered with a shrug, “I actually just moved in. Like, two hours ago.”

               “Really?” Peter asked as he closed his books and put them away. “What’s your address? You’re in Queens, right? Well, of course you’d be in Queens, you’re going to a Queen’s school, duh-“

               “Actually don’t really remember. One second,” You stood from your seat and headed back towards the front door near the counter, where you left the paper that Tony gave you with the address on it. You walked back and sat down in your spot, bringing up your leg to sit underneath so your other leg could swing slightly. You read the address back to him, and you looked up to see a big smile on his face.

               “Hey! I’m two blocks away.”

               You smiled a little wider. This was great. “Hey, do you want to go and get some food?” You blurted out, glancing around your empty apartment. “I don’t have any food here, and I don’t want to have to go out and eat alone.”

               “You don’t have any plans with your parents or something?” Peter asked skeptically, his eyebrows lightly furrowed. “I would love to, but I know my Aunt May gets mad at me sometimes when she has plans for dinner and I wind up going out.”

               You shook your head softly, realizing you would have to come up with some sort of story. “No,” you responded, brushing a strand of (h/c) hair behind your ear sheepishly, “My parents are never really home. They work a lot. They get home very late and leave very early. I never really see them, much.”

               “Oh,” Peter responded, giving you a look that you could only describe as slightly pitiful. Was that empathy? Or understanding? “I kinda know how you feel. In that case-!” He stood and picked up his phone, bringing it slightly closer to his face. “I’ll be there to pick you up in ten. You said that you were new to the city, right?”

               “Yeah,” you responded, not really remembering when you told him that, “This is pretty much my first time here.”

               “Awesome! Do you like Chinese?” You nodded in response. “Great, there’s this awesome Chinese joint by the bridge –“

               “Peter,” you interrupted, smiling, “I’ll see you in ten.”

               “See you in ten!” And he hung up. You placed the phone down and immediately began to freak the fuck out, racing to your room and ripping open your suitcase, trying your best to decide what to wear. Then you heard a ding from the kitchen, and you quickly got back up and ran back in to see who was texting you.

               From: Peter Parker

               hey, what’s your address again???

               You laughed and quickly typed it to him, running back into your room and grabbing a new pair of nice jeans and a beige sweater. You smiled at the clothes – you loved being able to have a choice in your wardrobe and got to wear what you actually thought looked good. Not a uniform. Not a medical bib, not rags. Things you liked.

               You quickly removed the clothes you had worn to school that day, glancing quickly in the mirror to see yourself in your spandex suit. You sighed softly, turning to face the mirror full length. You looked at yourself, staring at your suit and the gloves that you wore, wondering if you should change them to the ones with the dyed fingertips. You decided against it, quickly pulling the sweater over your head and pulling on your jeans, having to jump as the denim liked to hug the material of your suit and made it difficult to squeeze on. You got closer to the mirror to look at your face, sighing softly at the bags underneath your eyes from the restless, fearful nights. You brought a hand up to rub ad your face and under your eyes. You didn’t have makeup, and even if you did, you had no idea how to use it. It was all Greek to you.

               You slipped on your shoes, looking around the apartment, pursing your lips together as you did your best to tame your (h/l) (h/c) hair. You grabbed your phone from the table and stuck it in your pocket, glancing around the empty apartment as if you could be forgetting something, but currently there was nothing to forget. You walked around, taking a glance into a spare bedroom and closing the door, deeming that now as your fictional parents’ room. You closed the door to your own room after shutting off the light, sitting down at the table while waiting for Peter and coming up with each piece of your story. About your family, your life. Your fictional life that you almost felt guilty lying to Peter about. But it was necessary. Survival was necessary.

               You took a deep breath. Parents. You wondered what it was like to have those. You weren’t able to wallow in your own self-pity for much longer, though, hearing a knock at your door. You had a huge feeling it was Peter, but living on the run from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers taught you better than that. You removed a glove, getting ready, feeling the energy sizzle in your palms and around your fingers, taking a glance through the peephole. It was Peter.

               You slipped the glove on before you could accidentally do any damage and opened the door, smiling over at him. “I am ready to be amazed by this Chinese food.” You said simply, smiling widely at him.

               “Do.. you mind if I use your bathroom really quick?” Peter asked, smiling sheepishly and you nodded. “It’s down that way over there.” You pointed, and Peter nodded to you and made his way over, and you could hear the shutting of the door behind him. You sat down at the table and hit the tips of your fingers against the wood, listening to the idle thumping of your fingers. You zoned out, staring at the brick wall of the building across from you, sighing softly.

               “Wow, you really just moved in.” Peter commented, and you turned, eyebrows raised.

               “Yeah, you replied softly, shrugging your shoulders. “And I’m pretty much alone here.”  

               “Hey,” he murmured, sitting down next to you in the adjacent seat, “If you ever get lonely, you can come over to my place at any time. Seriously. Any time you want. Even at three in the morning or something. My Aunt May would love to have you over, but just text me if you really do want to show up at three in the morning so I can get up and walk you over because Queens can really be dangerous at that time of night, and-“

               “Thank you, Peter.” You laughed, “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

               “Awesome.” He responded back, the small cracking in his voice making him sound all the more sincere and sweet. “Let’s go get some food, yeah?” He stood from his spot at the table, looking down at you with a smile. You stood to follow him out, grabbing the keys on the counter and locking the door behind you.

               You walked side by side down the hallway, listening to Peter quietly as he raved all about the Chinese restaurant you were about to go to. You idly took your phone out of your pocket and messed with it in your hands, never once looking down at it, but just feeling it as the two of you walked through Queens. Peter talked, and you listened, and you didn’t mind. You loved hearing his stories about school, and about his life. His normal life. You wondered what that was like.

               The early Spring air was cold but surprisingly welcoming. You enjoyed the cool breeze you felt on your face, and surprisingly through your skintight suit beneath your sweater.

               “______?” You looked up, eyebrows raised.

               “Hm?”

               Peter laughed a little bit at the fact that you had zoned out so easily. “Do you want to sit inside or outside?”

               “Outside.” You answered without hesitation. “Outside would be nice. I like it out.”

               Peter laughed again at your word choice, nodding his head. “Okay.” He murmured, going over to one of the tables underneath the large overhead of the restaurant, pulling out a chair for you so you could sit. You smiled over at him, the sap that he was, and sat down as he pushed the chair in for you. You didn’t watch many movies, but you were pretty sure that that was something only that happened in. He sat across from you and thanked the waiter as he brought menus and water.

               Peter looked up towards the gray sky – still gray from the day before. “It looks like it’ll rain again.” He murmured absentmindedly, glancing back down to the menu before looking back up to you, “But that’s okay, ‘cause you like the rain.”

               You furrowed your brows – you knew for a fact that you hadn’t told Peter about how much you loved the rain. “How did you know that?” You asked, genuinely clueless.

               Peter shrugged. “I dunno, you just seem like the kind of person that enjoys the rain that Spring gives.”

               You narrowed your eyes teasingly at him, and the both of you laughed. The waiter came to take your order and you gave it to him, handing over the menus politely as the two of you turned back to each other.

               “So, ______,” Peter began, shrugging softly, “I’ve been speaking the, like, entire day. I feel like I know nothing about you. Tell me something, anything.”

               You rested your chin in your open palm, pursing your lips together as you stared over at him. You shrugged your shoulders. “I really don’t have that interesting of a life.” You whispered, placing your hands together down on the table and looking down at your gloves. You really didn’t want to have to lie to Peter. You loved his company, and you didn’t want this to hurt if something went wrong. But you knew that it would, anyway. No matter what.

               Things always went wrong. You shrugged again, laughing softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. Umm…”

               “Why don’t you start with where you’re from?” He began, sounding slightly concerned, “You know, before you came to New York.”

               “I’m from Arizona.” You answered, and hey, you weren’t lying.

               “Wow, really? Arizona? That’s pretty far.”

               “Yeah.” You answered with a small smile, “It really is. And then I came to New York but not for long – I was all over the country for a few good months. And now I’m back.” Again, not a lie. You had been on the run for quite a while. “I have nightmares sometimes.” You admitted, grimacing slightly and looking up at him from under your eyebrows, and he smiled softly over at you.

               “If you ever wake up, just text me, okay? I’ll wake up, I swear.”

               You smiled over at him, and you were amazed at how easy he made you smile. It was not long at all before the food came, and you smiled and thanked the waiter as he set the food down, and you quickly went to eating. “Mmmm.” You hummed in delight, smiling over at Peter and nodding your head. “Good choice, Parker.”

               He gave himself a tiny celebration at finding food that you liked. “Great. We should come here more often, then.”

               “I would really like that.” You responded, and the rest of your meal was filled with a peaceful silence as the two of you ate with the occasional little conversation thrown about. The meal was over sooner than you had expected, and you reached into your pocket to pull out your wallet.

               “Hey –“ Peter interrupted, smiling at you, “I got it.”

               “Really?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. “Cause I can pay.”

               “Yeah, of course.” He answered, handing the money and receipt back to the waiter. “My treat. Thanks for coming out with me. I really enjoy your company. Now come on – I’ll walk you home.”

               You stood with Peter, waving a quick and polite goodbye to the waiter. You turned and started to walk back the way you came – and even though the dinner felt like it had gone by quickly, it was almost 8:00PM. “I’d really love to spend more time with you tonight,” Peter sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “But I have a physics test tomorrow that I really have to study for.”

               “What’s it on?” You asked softly as the two of you continued your walk back home, “Maybe I can help.”

               “It’s on electricity and electromagnetism.” Peter murmured, crossing his arms slightly. “I get the formula just fine, it’s just the concept of it that kind of confuses me.”

               “Well,” you began, glancing up to the darkened sky, “Each electron is surrounded by an electric field, right? It’s its own little force, you know. And when the electron moves, it creates a second sort of energy called an electromagnetic field.” You glanced over at Peter to make sure that he was still listening. “When electricity – the electrons – travel through metal, it can create a magnet due to the amount of electricity running through it. That electricity can double into a sort of kinetic energy, which equals force…” You murmured, trailing off. “Does that make sense?”

               Peter nodded softly. “Actually, yeah. It does.” He answered, “Did you like physics?”

               “Yeah.” You answered with a nod and a small smile. “I did, a lot. It was my favorite class.”

               Eventually, your walk had ended, but you didn’t want Peter to leave. “Want to come in for a little while longer?” You asked, “I can help you with some more Physics stuff.”

               Peter agreed and came inside, and for the first half hour or so you actually talked about physics, but the other two, you talked about anything and everything – from school to the entire country to being out of the country, to somehow whales and how cool they were. You had just talked the whole night and you would not take those moments back for even a second. His Aunt May wanted him back home, though, so he left, and you went to bed that night feeling great. Feeling like you had a real friend.

               That hadn’t stopped you from having a nightmare, though. You woke up, scared and startled, glancing over to your phone. It was one in the morning.

               To: Peter Parker

               Hey, are you up???

               A few minutes later.

               From: Peter Parker

               yeah, i’m here.

everyone STOP WHAT YOU’RE DOING because i love filler chapters

enjoy this fluff and innocence

and get ready for this long ass and really intense series i promise you it’ll get a lot more interesting

so enjoy!!

first part here!

next part here!

[lameinserts]

your writing is amazing!!! i love

much thanks (丿^ω^ヽ)

[lameinserts]

Masterlist

woo more to come

MAZE RUNNER

funny story - i wrote this (insanely long) story before I made this account. So here:

Don’t Let Go

MARVEL

right as rain, soft as snow (spider-man) 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 (more coming soon! <3)

[lameinserts]

Right as rain, soft as snow part 3!! Your writing is amazing

thank you!!! ♪(´▽｀)

[lameinserts]

right as rain, soft as snow (part ii)

             hey guys!! just wanted to let you know really quick that the mood of this story is based heavily off these three amazing songs:

mOStly this song: Promise by Ben Howard

Saturn by Sleeping at Last

From the Ground Up by Sleeping At Last

so listen to em while you read. they’re absolutely beautiful. you won’t be disappointed, saturn has a pretty long intro so stick with it. it’s the lyrics that count! ENJOY!

pairing: spider-man x reader/peter parker x reader

warnings: none currently! 

word count: 3,788

summary: in which the reader is an avenger and a whole lot happens before peter finds out about it. drama ensues.      

  ______________________________________________________________                “This is just another mission.” Natasha promised you as the two of you crossed the Queensboro bridge in a new car that was bought under a fake name. “That’s just what you have to think of it as, okay?” She asked softly, taking a hand off the wheel to rub your shoulder very briefly. “Remember the mission we did together in Luxembourg?” The two of you laughed over the memory, and you nodded your head slowly.

                “Yeah, okay. I can try.” You murmured back to her, looking away from the water that separated lower Manhattan from Queens to your gloved hands. The gloves were black, skin tight, ended just below your palms. They looked high tech, because they were high tech. But Tony had tried his best to make last minute alterations to make them just look like regular spandex gloves, but there wasn’t that much that he could hide.

                Natasha noticed you looking at your hands, and continued your briefing. “Your name is now ______ ______. You’re seventeen years old, and since you are seventeen, we didn’t have to change that. You are a senior in high school. You have been homeschooled your whole life, so this whole public school thing is very different for you. You are taking Advanced Chemistry 2, Russian,” Natasha lifted her sunglasses and gave you a wink, “Calculus, and Exploration Art. Only four classes because you have block scheduling.” She paused her words to make a right turn once you had crossed over Queensboro. “You have a skin condition on the back of your hands that is painful and you are extremely insecure about. Teachers can’t make you take them off, and you will never, under any circumstance, have to take your gloves off.”

                You visibly relaxed, sighing softly and closing your eyes. You leaned your head against the window as Natasha made a stop at a red light. “So there’s no risk?” you asked softly, turning your head to look at her, with her surprisingly realistic blonde wig and sunglasses.

                She shrugged softly, smiling sadly. “______, there’s always a risk, you know that. Though now that you get to keep your gloves, it’s much smaller. So don’t be so scared, okay? You won’t hurt anyone. You won’t.”

                You were silent as you fiddled with your fingers, listening to the fabric over them rustle together. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths; listening to her words and trying your best to believe them. You wouldn’t hurt anyone. You promised yourself and your teammates that you wouldn’t hurt anyone, even if they all knew that it was an accident. That you hadn’t meant to do it. 

                You brought your hands up to your face to hide it, taking deep breaths and telling yourself that it was all okay and that you wouldn’t cry. You were better than that. No crying. You slapped your hands down and rubbed them up and down your thighs to calm yourself. You looked up as a big yellow school bus passed your car, and you swallowed thickly. You were almost there.

                “You’ll be okay, ______.” Natasha whispered, and you looked up at her with doubtful eyes. “You’re no different from all those kids in that school. Except the obvious. Look, ______, I know how difficult your life was before we got you out of Arizona. I know what you went through. I understand. I know that my life was very different from yours in different ways, but I understand. I know that Steve also understands, also being a S.H.I.E.L.D. experiment. I know that’s why the two of you are so close.”

                You stared out the window, not wanting to listen but also wanting to hear what she had to say. You knew that if she went on you would cry, because you always cried when you had to remember about the past.

                “I know not enough people tell you they understand.” Natasha whispered finally as she slowly pulled up to the high school.  You could feel your heart pounding out of your chest as you glanced back to Natasha. “I know it’s hard. But you’re the toughest person I’ve ever met. You can do this. Have a good first day at school.”

                You smiled with watery eyes at the woman in the seat beside you and grabbed your bag, stepping out of the car and staring at the school with an extreme nervousness in your heart. You turned to Natasha one last time. “You can do it, ______.” She whispered, smiling widely at you. “Have a good day at school, honey! See you later!” You nodded and shut the door, and she waved one last time before driving off; most likely so you couldn’t change your mind about school.

                You turned back towards the school, staring out over the expanse of the front “lawn” of the school as to speak, at all of the kids your age, walking into school. Laughing with their friends. Making fools of themselves trying to impress each other. And you were terrified. You took slow steps towards the school, staring down at a pair of light jeans and your black hoodie. You held your backpack tightly to your shoulders, going up the stairs and into the school. This was the first time in a while since you had really been without the Avengers, and you were trying not to let that get to you. You stood towards the edge of the hallway, watching as kids filed through the doors by the masses.

                Surprisingly, you did not mind crowds. They took away a lot of the loneliness you felt. You were hidden in crowds, you weren’t alone. You felt slightly better thinking that way. You took a deep breath, clearing your head as you looked towards a big door in the side of the hallway with a sign above it that said “Main Office.” You headed for that, pushing the door open and stepping inside, sitting down at the nearest seat. You watched the woman at the front desk mess with some papers before looking up to you.

                “How can I help you, hun?” she asked, pushing her glasses higher up her nose.

                You stood, taking a step over and leaning your arms against the counter, flinching slightly as the first bell rang. “Hello, my name is ______ ______?” you asked, fiddling with your fingers. The woman looked quizzically at your gloves before standing to go look in her file very briefly. “I’m new here.. And I need my schedule.” She opened the Manilla folder, nodding her head slowly and glancing back to your hands.

                “You have a skin condition, is that correct?”

                You nodded your head slowly with a small smile. “My medical records should be in there.” You murmured back. Of course, those were all fake.

                “As they are. You have Chemistry, first. Here is your schedule – I’ll call down for someone to take you to your class.” You took the paper gratefully from her, smiling your best smile, no matter how nervous you were. “Hello, Mrs. Warren; can you send someone down from your class to bring a new student over? Thank you.” You heard her say into the weird radio looking thing that she spoke into, and watched her as she turned back to you with a polite smile. “Sit for a while, hun. Someone will be here soon.”

                You nodded and sat, placing your bag beside you and staring down at your hands, closing your eyes and praying to a god that you didn’t believe in that everything would be okay. You looked up as the door opened, staring up at the boy that entered with what you could only assume was a hallway pass in his hand. “Good Morning, Ms. McKinnon!” he said cheerily, and oddly, his voice sounded very familiar. He turned to you sitting in the chair and his eyes widened, his jaw dropped, and for a moment he was silent. Until he snapped out of it. What was his problem?

                “Hi,” he quickly said, watching as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder. “My name’s Peter. Peter Parker. Nice to meet you. You’re new here?”

                You nodded softly as the two of you began to leave the office, and you gave the small woman at the counter a wave before the door shut behind you. “Yeah. My name’s ______. It’s nice to meet you, too.” You smiled over at him, staring down at your shoes for a few moments as you walked. Silence passed between the two of you, before you decided to keep speaking and try to make a friend. “I’ve been homeschooled most of my life.” You brought up, and you smiled as he looked over to you with interest. “Yeah. I’ve never been to school before. It’s all honestly a little overwhelming.”

                He nodded softly. “I totally understand. I’ve been going to school all my life and I’m still overwhelmed!” You laughed at his joke, finding that his voice gave you a surprising amount of comfort. “Anyway, your schedule here says your locker number. Do you want me to take you to your locker first so you don’t have to carry everything around? And hey! We have Calculus and Art together. How about today, I’ll drop you off at your Russian class and then at the end I’ll come and get you so we can walk to Calculus together. Does that sound okay?”

                You nodded your head, unable to stop your smile. “Sounds perfect.” You answered softly, bringing your hands away from your straps and in front of you as you lightly itched at your inner arm. You noticed Peter’s eyes trail towards them.

                “Why do you wear those gloves?” he asked, the curiosity in his voice sincere. “If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

                You shrugged softly, feeling your heartbeat kick up when he asked you. “I have this skin thing.” You lied easily, looking from your hands and back up to him. “I wear these gloves because I hate looking at it. And it stops me from picking at it, too.”

                He nodded in understanding, smiling warmly back over to you. “Well, they’re a really cool pair of gloves.” He murmured back, and you felt your heart melt at how kind he was being to you. You had never experienced this sort of kindness from a stranger before. You felt yourself starting to trust him, but you didn’t want to. You know that you couldn’t trust him – you couldn’t trust anyone. It took you almost a year to trust the rest of the Avengers, but for some reason, you wanted to be by this kid’s side at all times. For some reason, you really and truly believed that he was special, and kind, and that you should trust him. Something in your gut told you that he was okay, and that he was really a nice guy. You decided to roll with that feeling rather than push it away.

                After a few turns in the hallway and a few quick chats about the classes the two of you were taking together, he stopped in front of a row of lockers. “Here’s your locker.” He said simply, placing his hand on the dark blue metal. “And here’s your combo.” He handed you the small piece of paper with your combination on it. You quickly opened your locker and looked over at Peter as he started taking steps backwards. You furrowed your eyebrows at him as you grabbed what you were pretty sure you would need from your bag. “And guess where my locker is?” He asked excitedly, placing his hand on a locker at least five down from yours. “Right here! We’re practically locker neighbors.” You smiled and laughed, and you noticed quite visibly how great it made him feel that he could make you laugh. You noticed the way his gaze softened, how his lips turned upwards in a small, crooked and yet completely adorable smile. God dammit.

                “Now, come on. Let’s get to Chemistry, yeah?” He asked, taking a step so he was by your side, holding his elbow out for you to take. He smiled over at you, his eyes beaming. “Shall we, your Majesty?”

                You laughed, unable to stop the widest smile of your life from coming onto your face. You wrapped your hand around his arm, holding a notebook and a pen clipped to the front cover of it in the other arm. “We shall, Sir Peter.” You responded, the laughter bubbling out of you. You were happy. You had made a friend. Even though you knew that you shouldn’t have, you had made a friend.

                Eventually you moved your hand away from his arm so the two of you could walk up the school steps, and you were silent; listening to the echoing of your footfalls in the large stairwell. “I sit in the back in Chemistry. With my last name starting with P and all.” The two of you laughed. “There’s some extra seats. You can sit next to me – if – if you want to, of course.”

                “Sure,” you responded as you made it to the top of the stairs and then made a left, “That would be nice.”

                You went up to the door and Peter grabbed the handle, twisting the knob and opening the big classroom door. Everyone in the classroom turned and stared at you. You felt your heart pounding as you walked into the room, wishing more than anything that you could take off those gloves – that you could remove what made you obviously different from the rest of the students there.

                “Ah, you must be ______!” The teacher greeted, walking over to you and holding out a hand for you to shake. You stared at it for a moment, begging that nothing would happen, and held out a hand and reciprocated the shake. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding when she pulled away and nothing had gone wrong. She looked down to your gloves as she shook your hand and her smile faltered slightly. She cleared her throat and continued. “I’m Mrs. Warren, I’ll be your Chemistry teacher.” She turned to the class. “Everyone, this is ______. She’s transferred in so I will expect only kind intentions, do we understand?”

                The class monotonously answered their agreements, and Peter motioned for you to follow him to the back of the class, taking the only free seat – the one right behind him. He turned to look over at you and you smiled softly, still noticing a lot of your new classmates looking over to you. You quickly placed your gloved hands in your lap.

                The teacher began to talk about Chemistry and continuing her lesson on the advanced balancing of equations – which you had already learned. With S.H.I.E.L.D. You closed your eyes. You couldn’t allow every word at school to trigger some sort of memory with S.H.I.E.L.D., or you would be a mess by the end of the day. You took a deep breath through your nose, opening your notebook and beginning to write.   -                   Class had ended surprisingly sooner than you thought it would, and you were knocked out of your concentration when the bell rang for the next class to begin. The teacher was offering praise for a good lesson and yelling out homework as kids left through the door. You walked behind Peter as you made your way to the head of the classroom.

                “______, wait!” The teacher called, reaching behind your desk to hand you a Chemistry textbook. “Here you go – you’ll need this.” She muttered, “I hope you have a good first day of school.”

                “Thank you, Mrs. Warren.” You smiled, turning towards the door to see a smiling Peter waiting for you at the door. You took a hand out and shoved him playfully – and for someone that you just met, you were surprised at how much you actually trusted him. You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t trust this stranger. But you had never had a friend before, and you were happy to have one.

                “Your Russian class is downstairs,” Peter said softly, looking at your schedule as the two of you headed down the stairs, “And so is my Physics class. So I’ll come and get you once it’s over, okay?” He asked, and the two of you stopped in front of your next class. “You’ll be okay. I’ll be back to bring you to our Calculus class. See you later, ______!” he called, smiling and waving, turning and walking down the hallway by himself. You wondered if he usually walked by himself every day.

                You turned and walked into your next class before too many students had gotten there, introducing yourself in Russian to your Russian teacher – thanks to Natasha and S.H.I.E.L.D. – and smoothly went and sat down at a desk in the back.

                Peter came and picked you up and the two of you walked up the stairs smiling and talking about different things. Peter was shocked to hear that you had never seen that really old movie, Empire Strikes Back, or something or another. You thought his outrage and surprise was hilarious. Calculus went smoothly as well – there were no problems and you sat in the back with your new friend. You walked to the Art room together, where you pretty much just painted smiley faces on each other’s arms and hands for eighty minutes. The teacher didn’t care; Peter said that he thought Mr. Jaymes, the teacher, was ‘high.’ That was a new word to you, as well.

                Eventually, school was over, and it was time for you to get back home. You waved goodbye to Peter, smiling and saying that you would see each other the next day. Of course, not before getting his number, first. Natasha said she couldn’t pick you up from school – so you walked home over the Queensboro bridge, just as you had the night before. You walked into Stark tower, giddy beyond belief, so excited to tell your teammates at the friend you had just made.

                You asked FRIDAY to take you up to the common rooms, where you were sure everyone would be waiting for you, and stepped out to see the team staring at you with expectant gazes.

                You were smiling and you set your backpack down, rubbing your hands together excitedly. “I made a new friend.” You murmured, happy at your very small accomplishment. Some seemed happy for you, others’ faces fell.

                “You what?!” Tony almost yelled, making your smile falter. “______, this is supposed to be a mission for you. You’re not supposed to trust anyone. Now that you have a friend they’re going to want to go over to your house and hang out with you, and walk home with you and – what were you thinking?!”

                You stared down at the floor, straightening your back and trying your hardest not to be upset. “I’m sorry, Tony.” You whispered, taking another deep breath.

                “She has to live on her own now. In an apartment in Queens.”                 “Tony, don’t you think that’s a little drastic?” Natasha began, looking up at the pacing billionaire from the couch.

                “Of course not. We can’t risk anyone from her school coming near here and seeing her walk into Stark Tower. It will completely ruin her cover – her name will be all over New York with rumors about the Avengers. Then the government will know. Then everyone will know.”

                You were silent, not really liking the idea of living on your own, although you would do what you needed to do. You understood that you were blowing your own cover by trusting someone.

                “Besides, we all know she’s lived on her own, before. When she ran.” Tony murmured, plopping down on the couch, and you couldn’t help but feel hurt at his words.

                “Don’t listen to him.” Wanda sent to your head, and you smiled gratefully at her.

                “Okay, Tony. I can handle it. I’ll live in Queens and I’ll show up to visit occasionally. If someone sees me walking into Stark Tower, I’ll say I work here. I’ll say that I’m a maid part time.”

               Tony thought about it and nodded his head. “I’ll go buy the apartment under the fake name. You pack your bags.”

                So you went up to your room and grabbed the luggage from the closet, packing mostly all of your clothes into the suitcases. You sighed softly, surprised at how quickly you had done it. You looked around your room – you had no decorations to take with you.   You brought it all back down to the common room, where everyone came up to say goodbye to you. “I’ll come over twice a week, okay?” you asked, trying to make light of the situation, and everyone nodded and smiled.

                “I’m sorry, Shockey.” Tony murmured, handing you the address on a slip of paper and referring to you as your team nickname. “Visit more than twice a week, okay? This tower won’t be the same without you.” You nodded, giving them all hugs goodbye. Steve offered to help you bring your stuff down and he did, and as you hailed a cab he brought a hand up to rub your upper back comfortingly.

                “You’ll do great.” Steve murmured. “I know what it’s like. To be in a world that you barely know. We’re the same, in more ways than one.” You smiled up at him, turning and giving him a hug as the cab rolled up. “See you soon, ______. Keep those gloves on.”

                “See you, Steve.” You murmured back, putting your luggage into the cab and getting in, shutting the door and giving the driver the address. Back over the Queensboro you went, taking deep breaths and closing your eyes. You didn’t mind living on your own. Last year, when you ran, you had stolen money from Tony and lived on your own for a few months. You were caught, though. But you would rather not remember it. When you opened your eyes you were in Queens, in front of your new apartment building. The man in the cab was not kind enough to help you with your luggage, but you didn’t mind. You really didn’t have much, anyway.

                You walked through the door and practically threw your luggage down, shutting it behind you and grabbing your key on the table. You searched around for a little while, exploring, but when you found the bedroom, you collapsed onto your new bed. You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths, ready to take it easy, until you felt your phone buzz in your hand.

                From: Peter Parker

                hey locker neighbor!!!

                And your new friendship began.

first part here!

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