tom holland/peter parker and steve rogers oneshots

what happened?- peter parker

It was after dinner, and you were waiting for Peter to come to your apartment so you could study together for the big math test in three days.

Two hours had passed already, though, and with each passing minute, you grew more worried.

You tapped the edge of your pencil against your desk as you dialed his number. "Peter?" you spoke, once he picked up.

"Oh, hey, Y/N. What's going on?"

"Where are you? It's almost ten o'clock and you were supposed to be here two hours ago!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he apologized frantically.

"What's happening this time? Tony give you another mission?" You couldn't help but snap at him, as this wasn't the first time he'd stood you up for something. "Come on, Peter. Seriously. Where. Are. You?"

"I'm sorry, I got held up because there was this big bank heist a few streets down, and---"

His voice was then abruptly cut off by an explosion of some sort in the distance, and the line went dead.

"Peter? Peter!" you exclaimed. Rapidly typing in his number again, you tried to make another call, then another, but he didn't pick up. Your calls were immediately sent to voicemail. Hey, you've reached Peter Parker, if I don't answer, that means I'm busy either building my Lego set with Ned or at the Stark Internship. I'll call you back, bye!

"Oh god, oh god, he better not be dead," you muttered as you got up from your chair, pacing back and forth across your room. A flood of thoughts rushed into your head, imagines of every little thing that could go wrong, things that could possibly happen to him, things that might not happen, or not go well, and it was driving you absolutely crazy.

You too, were a superhero, but you decided to push it aside and reserve it only for weekends and over break, because school was the most important thing right now and you could not afford to have any distractions.

Peter, on the other hand, was completely devoted.

Those next few hours were an agonizing wait for you: you couldn't eat, couldn't move, you just laid across your bed, staring up at the ceiling, hoping and praying he'd be fine. You knew he would, but there was just this one nagging thought at the back of your head telling you, what if he wasn't okay? What if he's dead?

No, he can't be dead, you reassured yourself. He's Peter Parker. He doesn't go down so easily.

Are you sure about that?

You groaned and ran a hand through your hair, pulling out your phone to check the time. 11:56.

Around close to midnight, you heard a light tap on the window, so you slid it open. Peter, in his suit, stumbled in and flopped onto your bed, yanking his mask off to reveal a dirt-caked face, and his hair was sticking to his forehead with what appeared to be dried blood.

"Peter!" You rushed to his side, examining him. "It's midnight? What the hell were you doing out there for so long? It's 12 in the morning! And how did you get all those bruises...wait...is that...why are you bleeding?"

He let out a weak groan. "Apparently, one of the robbers was a HYDRA agent, and then, he, well, he..." Coughing, he wiped his mouth with his hand, which came away bright red, then pointed at his right arm. You tore his suit off down to his shoulder to reveal a deep bullet wound, blood gushing out of it at an alarming pace.

"Oh my god, oh my god..." You began panicking at the sight. "Who...they shot you?"

"No shit, Sherlock," he tried to laugh, but ended up coughing again.