Multi-Fandom Imagines

The Avengers [p. parker]

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Imagine: Longing for a family like the Avengers
Warnings: None

You climbed onto the bus, scanning your pass. Your backpack swayed as you walked down the isle, looking for somewhere to sit.

Today you were lucky enough to find an empty seat near the back, away from any other nosey riders.

You pulled out your earbuds and plugged them in, drowning out the noises of the public bus with music. It was a 45 minute ride to school, so you started your morning playlist.

As your music began and the sounds of the bus faded you laid your head against the window. Your warm breath fogged up the cool window. It was still dark, and you could just barely make out the houses and cars that you passed by.

You liked to watch people go about their days, wonder what they were doing and who there were. You were sure it was more exciting than what you were doing, who you were.

Class was boring, and something you never looked forward to. You weren't good at learning the way your teachers taught, weren't good at taking tests or even making friends.

You felt too different. Felt like nobody thought the made you did, wondered about the things you did.

You passed one particular house with a bright sign in the yard. It had an American flag on it and read, Thank You Avengers! in bold print. Being only an hour outside of the City, the Avengers were bonafide heroes around here.

You smiled sadly at the sign. You would never be that; a hero. You would never team up with your friends and save the world. Never work in a lab with Tony Stark, or listen to old outdated music with Steve Rogers.

You let yourself wonder, just for a moment, what it must be like to be a part of the Avengers. They probably had movie nights, probably stayed up too late drinking and playing board games, probably bet on who could take out the most villains in a single fight and complain that Thor always won. They probably felt like a family.

You never have that feeling of family that would do anything for you. Your family didn't understand you, didn't understand that you felt things differently.

They never would.

You were destined to live a boring life. Go to the same job, have the same routine day after day, month after month, year after year, until one day you would finally die without a single print left on the world.

"Excuse me? Do you mind if I sit here?"

You startled out of your thoughts, pulling your head up from resting on the window. The bus had gotten busier while you were in your own world, and seats were being limited.

You looked up at the young boy who was pointing at the isle seat beside you.

You wiped at your face where a few stray tears had fallen and nodded.

"Yeah-yeah sure." You moved your backpack and the boy sat down.

"Thank you," he sounded relieved.

"The only other empty seat was up front beside an old man who smelled like onions."

You laughed, nodding. "Yeah, old man Joe. He's on here almost every day, and every day he smells like onions."

"Do you ride everyday?"

You attempted to hide your red cheeks, embarrassment rising. "Uh, yeah. I go to school in the city and don't have a ride."

"Hey me too! That's cool. I live in the city and usually ride my bike, but I was visiting a friend out here."

You smiled, relieved he hadn't teased that you rode the bus every day. He was the nicest and most smiley person you'd met in a while.

"I'm y/n," you held out your hand to shake.

The boy grinned even wider, which you hadn't thought possible, and shook your hand.

"Nice to meet you y/n, I'm Peter.