Honestly, this wasn't your fault. You'd been so relieved to just have a day off, get some training done, but no. Now here you were, in hand to hand combat with an actual superhero while all the Avengers watched and placed bets.
It all started around two in the afternoon. You were training in the tower, pushing yourself harder than you ever had before. Sweat dripped from your clenched jaw, and sticky strands of hair clung to the back of your neck. With every blow, you imagined the target was Peter.
Damn him for making you feel this way!
Music blared from your speaker in the corner. Jab, jab, left hook. Was he in the tower? Jab, swipe, duck. Or was he on spidey business? Kick, right hook, block. Why did you even care?
You spun, jumping and swiping your leg in a deadly arc through the air until it connected with the bag. You locked your legs around the punching bag, twisting hard. There was a gut-wrenching crunch, and then you were kneeling on top of the bag, your chest heaving.
Someone began to slow clap. You looked up, surprised that someone was there. You'd thought you were alone. When you saw Steve's impressed face, you grinned shyly.
Steve Rogers (alias, Captain America, b.1918) was your mentor. He was the one that found you all those years ago, young and scared with strength that you didn't know how to control. None of the Avengers are entirely sure how you came to have your abilities, something that irritates Tony (Stark, alias, Iron Man, b.1970) and Bruce (Banner, alias, the Hulk, b.1969) to no end. Their best guess is that you were exposed to Chitauri radioactivity during the battle of New York, but they can't seem to prove it.
Since Steve knew what it was like to be a super soldier, it seemed obvious that he would be the one to take you under his wing. Here you were, years later, with increased strength, agility, and resilience, more or less in control of your abilities. Not only that, but now Tony had a protege of his own; if you were a younger, female version of Steve without the publicity, Peter Parker (alias, Spider-Man, b.2001) was a Tony Stark without the quick tongue. And you were falling for him - hard.
Anyway, where were we? Right. Steve was obviously impressed with your badassery. He stepped forward, offering you his hand. You took it, and he pulled you to your feet.
"That was some good work, y/n," he said, clapping you on the shoulder. You noticed then that Tony was standing in the doorway, eyebrows furrowed.
"Thank you, Captain," you replied, dragging your eyes away from Stark. "How can I help you?"
"Er, this is a bit awkward," Steve mumbled. "Tony and I were having a chat about you and Parker's progress, and we were wondering if-"
"Okay, I'm gonna make this short and sweet," cut in Tony, stepping forward. "Cap and I have a bet. I think that my kid would win in a fight. He disagrees. Are you willing to test our theory?"
"Y-you want me to fight Peter?" you asked, eyes wide.
"That's it," said Tony.
"Kind of," winced Steve at the same time.
The two men looked at each other before turning back to you. "Yes," they chimed.
"Um, okay, I guess. It'll be good... practice...."
They obviously didn't hear the last part of your sentence. Tony looked confidently at Steve, and the two shook hands. Tony pulled out his phone as he turned to leave. "F.R.I.D.A.Y.? Please call Parker...."
"So, uh, when's the fight?" you asked Steve.
"You have time to get cleaned up," Steve said. "Meet at the ring in, say, and hour and a half? Good luck, kid. I know you have this in you."
An hour and a half passed, and you still weren't exactly reassured.
Peter had swung - literally - into the tower ten minutes before you were supposed to fight. You were just getting dressed when there was a loud clatter from outside. You quickly stepped out, seeing Peter skid to a halt on the carpet, releasing a web that lead out of an open window. He pulled off his Spider-Man mask, smiling when he saw you.
"Hey, y/n! You ready?"
"Ready to demolish you? Of course!" you replied sweetly.
His mouth dropped open, as did yours. He held up a threatening finger and you waggled your eyebrows at him, a huge smile on your face.
"That's gonna - you're not - uh uh - no, nope. Not gonna happen."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah."
"See you in ten, spider-boy."
You grabbed your towel and your water bottle before brushing past him, towards the training room. Steve and Tony were already there, talking in hushed tones. Steve waved when he saw you, instantly making his way over.
You climbed over the ropes, getting into the ring. Steve looked up at you, his brow creased. "Okay, I know you're good, but if you ever feel overwhelmed, don't be afraid to tap out. Your well-being is more important than some cash."
"Oh, ye of little faith," you teased, stretching your legs. "I'd hope you'd have at least a little trust in me?"
"I do, but Parker is a-"
"What?" you asked dryly. "An actual superhero?"
"I didn't say that."
"I know. You didn't have to." You swung your arms, working out some knots in your back. You smiled cheekily at him. "Trust me, Rogers. I got this. He may be part spider, but he wasn't trained by Captain America during his formative years."
"And the Black Widow. What's going on in here?"
Your head snapped up as Natasha (Romanoff, alias, Black Widow, b.1984) entered the room. While Steve may have found you and taught you to control your abilities, Natasha taught you how to read people like books. She also taught you how to utterly debilitate a man without getting your outfit dirty.
Before any of you could answer, Peter came jogging in. His hair was tousled and he wore a loose shirt and gym shorts. He was panting slightly, and Tony groaned softly as he put his hands over his face.
"Am I too late?" Peter asked breathlessly.
"No," groaned Tony. "Get in the ring."
"Okay, now I really need to know what's going on," Natasha said, stepping up to Tony's side.
Tony began to explain in a hushed tone while Peter warmed himself up. Steve vaulted over the ropes, muttering encouraging words in your ear. You kept strong eye contact with Peter, trying to stay focused. But his eyes were shining, and he was fiddling with the hem of is shirt like he was debating taking it off... oh, he's so wonderful....
Which was exactly why you couldn't wait to start the fight.
Then he took his shirt off and you nearly blacked out. To be honest, you weren't entirely sure if they said to start. You just blinked and when you opened your eyes Peter was pinned underneath you, wincing in pain. You looked up, parts of your ponytail already falling out.
Steve, Natasha, and Tony were all staring at you with their mouths hanging open. You released Peter, blushing. "Sorry."
"That was a good warm-up," he grunted, getting to his feet.
When Natasha actually called for the fight to begin, Peter was obviously a little more wary. You jumped up, capturing his shoulders between your thighs and flipping him onto his back, careful not to hurt him too seriously. He hit the ground hard, and you heard the breath rush out of him. You instantly scrambled off of him, prepared for his retaliation. He was slower on standing up.
"Oh, my god!" groaned Tony. "I can't - what is this!? What happened to Spider-Man!?"
The next time, Peter at least put up a little fight. You kicked out your leg, and he caught it. He attempted to flip you off balance, but you instantly crouched before pushing off with your free leg. You slammed your leg down, spinning around and almost bringing Peter with you. You spun low, landing in a crouched position.
The two of you sparred for a few minutes. Peter managed to stave off your attacks, but then his blocks grew sloppy and distracted. You jabbed him in the gut and he wheezed, almost tripping over his own feet. You placed your leg against his chest and pushed. He fell back against the ropes, glaring at you.
"Oh yeah, I'm real glad this guy is keeping New York safe," you sneered, not intending to sound so mean.
Peter's face hardened, and he jumped back up, striking harder. He was obviously pissed; his swings were heavy and poorly aimed. You danced around him, easily keeping him off balance with a jab under his guard every here and there.
More of the Avengers had arrived to see what the commotion was all about. Natasha explained, and they picked sides. Steve, Wanda, Clint, and Sam were cheering you on. Rhodey, Bruce, and Thor were next to Tony, who was practically sprouting grey hairs there and then.
"No, no, no - quicker, you freaking piece of-"
"Tony!" scolded Rhodey, cutting off his friend.
Peter's flushed face turned even pinker. You spun, sweeping your leg out, and his moment of distraction ended with him landing hard on his back. You stood over him, frowning. "Are we done here? I think I win."
"I haven't tapped out," he huffed out.
You rolled your eyes, offering a hand to help him up. "Come on, spidey. It's just a stupid bet."
With a sigh, he propped himself up on his elbows, reaching up and grabbing your hand. You braced your legs, prepared to pull him up, when suddenly Peter was in a crouching position and you were soaring over his shoulder. You hit the mat hard, the air gushing out of your lungs. You blinked hard, opening and closing your moth like a fish out of water. Before you could recover, Peter was on top of you.
Then his arm was wrapped tight against your neck, hooking your arm awkwardly behind you. One leg was wrapped around your thighs, pinning your down, while the other acted as leverage.
Gasping in alarm, you hit the mat with your palm frantically. Natasha shouted something and Peter released you. You rolled away, coughing as you attempted to catch your breath.
"That's fifty bucks for me, Steve-o," chirped Tony.
"Fifty!?" squeaked Peter.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, your stomach brushing the mat. You turned your head and Peter caught your look. He shrugged. "Sorry? You got me all riled up."
None of the Avengers were paying attention. They were busy debating whether it was a fair win, since Peter took advantage of your assistance.
"Fuck you," you groaned.
"Wish you would."
Your mouth dropped open and so did his. You weren't sure who's cheeks were pinker.
"I-I'm sorry," Peter stuttered. "I don't really - it kinda just - I promise it's not - I like you - no no no wait - I'm so sorry - the timing was-"
"Shut up and help me up," you grinned, rocking back onto your haunches and holding your hand out.
He walked over, still embarrassed. He gripped your hand and you ducked forward, flipping him over your shoulder. He hit the ground with a startled squeak and you straddled his waist, pinning him down. He was red as a tomato.
"I like you too, Pete."
You dipped down to kiss him, ignoring the whoops and jeers from the Avengers who had obviously grown bored without you to entertain them.
