tom holland/peter parker and steve rogers oneshots

tough love- peter parker (part one)

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in which he's almost too late

to realize that he has feelings

for her

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partially based off a oneshot I read! here's a soft angst but mostly fluffy oneshot for our baby Peter :) this one will be split up into two parts bc it's really long, then afterwards I will be working on my Steve oneshot draft!

so I'm finally back on a consistent publishing schedule, which should keep me busy with writing for another few weeks! hope you guys have been enjoying how active I am hehe ;-P

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"Y/N, sweetheart! What brings you over here?" Aunt May opened the door to the apartment with a warm smile, giving you a tight hug. "Are you staying for dinner with us? We might order Thai takeout tonight."

"I don't know," you shrugged, "I'm just here to hang out, I guess. Where's Peter?"

"He said he was out doing something and was busy, but he'll be back in half an hour or so. I'm going to go run some errands, but you can go wait in his room if you want."

"That would be great. Thanks, May," you smiled, taking your bag and going into Peter's room.

This felt like the millionth time in a row in which he'd arrived late to your hangouts because he was either "on a solo mission" or "finishing up stuff at school" or "at a marching band clinic" (and the marching band clinics weren't even for another month or two, from what you knew about them) or because he was "just running late".

The first time or so you didn't question it but the more and more frequently situations like this occurred, you began to grow suspicious. You asked Ned if they'd been spending any time together lately, but he simply replied saying the last time they'd hung out was last Sunday afternoon, and that was it.

Though he'd also taken notice of how he'd been disappearing here and there as well, and both of you had already ruled out the Spiderman excuse because you were an Avenger yourself and knew about your teammates' whereabouts at all times, and Ned already knew about it.

You tapped your fingers against your chin as you flopped onto one of his squishy beanbag chairs, staring out the window and playing Candy Crush to pass the time.

As if he was responding to your thoughts, Peter soon walked in. "Hey, what's up?"

"Peter, where were you?" you questioned. "I thought we were meeting straight after school at your place?"

"Uh, I had stuff to do," he responded quickly, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto his chair. "I was busy."

"With what?"

"Stuff."

"Peter..." you warned, your tone growing more impatient, "I know you're not being sent on missions every other day. I know that Dad would have some sense not to do that. The first marching band clinic isn't until three weeks after spring break. You and Ned already finished building the Millenium Falcon last weekend."

You counted off all his excuses with your fingers, listing them one by one. "There aren't any Decathlon meetings for the rest of this month until week after break ends. You didn't oversleep while napping, because I know you've never taken a nap during any of high school at all so far, except for five minutes during pre-calc. So where in the world have you been and why do you feel like you have to hide that from me?"

"Um...well..."

"Spit it out, Parker," you ordered, "where were you?"

"I was hanging out with Liz...at the cafe..." he admitted quietly, shifting from one foot to the other.

"So what you're saying here is...you've been taking advantage of my time...and you've been sneaking off to go meet with another girl without telling me?" Your voice rose several notches as you crossed your arms over your chest, trying not to shriek at the top of your lungs. "For Odin's sake, Peter! The least you could've done was tell me that you were seeing her!"

"That's not it-we're not dating-" he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, but you quickly cut him off.

"Sure as hell sounds like you are," you hissed in between clenched teeth. "How else could you explain your behavior?"

"Why are you so upset about this?" he looked up at the ceiling for a moment, running a hand through his hair. "I don't get it."

"I don't like that you're spending so much time with her," you muttered, anxiously biting the edge of your lip.

"Oh, so you think you can decide who I can or cannot hang out with now, huh?" he raised an eyebrow at you.

"No, that's not what I meant-"

"Sounds like you're trying to boss me around."

"I'm not trying to boss you around!" you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air. "I just want you to tell me why you've been hanging out with her so much and what's really going on between you guys."

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and refusing to say anything. You knew it. You knew he didn't want you to figure out about whatever the hell this 'thing' between him and Liz was. You should've realized this sooner.

"It's either her, or me," you sucked in a breath, wringing out your hands.

His head snapped back up and he looked straight at you, shaking his head. "I can't do that. I can't just decide between you and her-"

"It seems pretty clear to me that you've already established who's more important to you, so this shouldn't be so hard. I get it. Choose her, then, fine! I'm gonna get going. I'm not going to keep spending my time with someone I can't even trust anymore," you glared at him, tears brimming your eyes as you grabbed your things and got up.

"Fine. If you're going to keep acting like this, then maybe I will choose her. Maybe I am choosing her over you because I like her more."

"Fine, then. We're over. This, whatever this is we have together," you gestured to yourselves, "is over. We're done."

"Wait! Y/N-" Peter called out, but you were already slipping your shoes on and opening the front door.

"Goodbye, Parker," you snapped, swiftly slamming the door shut behind you and leaving him to stand there in shock.

You took the elevator downstairs and pushed the lobby's doors open, walking outside and down the sidewalk as far as your legs could possibly take you from him.

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Barely a few minutes had passed before you heard a set of footsteps following you. It was probably a bad idea to storm out of his apartment late at night, especially because there was a higher risk of your safety being put into jeopardy in a big city such as Queens.

You shrugged off the thought, though, and resumed your walking. The weather outside was rather chilly, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. You'd gotten stabbed, bruised, beaten to hell and back, and shot twice, and had been heartbroken.

So what did a little cold mean to you?