tom holland/peter parker and steve rogers oneshots

is this really love?- peter parker (part 1)

"Kid, you okay?" Steve looked at you with concern in his eyes as you paced back and forth with a clenched jaw and fists, your knuckles turning nearly white from all the pressure that you were giving them. "Is something wrong?"

"No," you scoffed, "I'm fine. Why would I be mad? Upset? Pfft, no."

"Something's bothering you, Y/N, what's going on?" Bucky called from the cockpit, "you weren't like this earlier."

"Wonder why," you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "Might wanna ask a certain asswipe, douchebag of a guy when we get back. Not my fault."

Steve didn't even try and comment on your use of language, knowing that messing with you when you were ticked off was a risky task to take on, being the Stark that you were.

"Come on, kiddo," he asked in a soft voice as he sat down, patting the space next to him and signaling for you to sit down as well, "tell me what's wrong."

You shook your head slowly from side to side in response.

You weren't okay, you were feeling anything but okay.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tilted your head back as you leaned back in your seat, trying to prevent the tears already welling up in the corners of your eyes from falling, but failed to do so. A half-strangled sob escaped from the back of your throat and you felt your heart suddenly twist in your chest, and you pressed a hand up against your mouth in an attempt to conceal the sound but it did you no use.

Nobody dared to say anything, watching the current state that you were in. You silently rested your head on Steve's shoulder and he pulled you into his arms, simply holding you there without questioning what had gotten into you all of a sudden.

If only Peter knew.

God, how you hated that he was so oblivious, and you hated yourself even more for acting out the way you did. You were never one to be so emotional, and you never knew it was possible for just one person to completely flip your world upside down in two seconds flat, but now you were beginning to realize that it really could.

...

Back at the compound, Peter was rather quiet after dinner and everyone noticed that he was dead silent throughout the entire meal as well, compared to his usual, bubbly self and it seemed strange to all of them. He barely touched his food and afterwards, trudged upstairs to change and came back downstairs, curling up on the couch wrapped in several blankets and blankly staring at the turned-off TV.

"Peter, are you alright?" Wanda placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Something wrong?"

He looked at her with a completely emotionless expression on his face, but his eyes were clearly bloodshot, almost as if he'd been crying earlier. "I'm fine."

"He's lovesick," Pietro smirked, but stopped short on his words when his sister smacked him on the shoulder. "What? I'm speaking facts, and we all know it."

"Kid, what did you do?" Tony asked gently.

"I messed up," Peter mumbled, "now she's gone, off without me, and what if she doesn't make it back or---"

"I know my daughter very well, Peter," he interrupted, "and if there's two things I know about her for sure, it's that she never goes down without a fight and she's not exactly one to hold grudges against someone she really cares about for so long."

"But that's the problem, Mr. Stark, she doesn't care."

"Don't speak that kind of BS to me, kiddo. You know she does."

"She hates me now, though."

"She couldn't hate you."

"In fact, she loves you---" Pietro sang, stopping for a moment when he was met with Peter's death glare. "What? I know it's kinda cliche, but it is true. Oh my god, this is like one of those cheesy skinny love romcoms! Or whatever you call them these days."

...

The thunderous sounds of bullets echoed in your ears as you rushed down the halls of the laboratory with Bucky following behind you, quickly making your way towards the northeast entrance to the designated rendezvous point,.

"Kid, watch out!" Bucky gripped your wrist tightly and quickly jerked the two of you around the corner of the building as you sprinted out the doors, narrowly missing a fresh downpour of bullets from above.

You uttered a quick thank-you before holding your hand up to the sky and shooting out energy blasts towards where the soldiers were stationed in the upper towers.

"Cap!" you shouted breathlessly as you pressed your comm on, looking to your left and right frantically. "Are you and Sam at the jet yet? The explosives go off in two minutes!"

"I'm here, Y/N," he responded seconds later, "what about you and Buck? Hill's about to send the coordinates for the safe house and second HYDRA location any minute now."

"Literally thirty seconds. I can see the jet from here," you squinted, pushing away the leaves and branches scratching at your face as Bucky pointed out the faint silhouette of the Quinjet in the distance, which grew closer as you ran closer towards it. "Scratch that, about twenty or so."

"Alright. See you in a bit."

You turned your comm off, doing a quick scan of the skies and peering into the trees above before you nodded at Bucky, signaling that it was all-clear for the two of you to move out from your hiding spot and move on.

Cursing yourself internally, you limped towards the back of the Quinjet to put your weapons away and allowed Steve to clean up your wounds that you had, resting your head back against your seat and letting your eyes flutter shut.

At some point as you were sprinting back towards the jet, you must've been grazed by a bullet from one of the escaped agents that hadn't gotten trapped in the exploding base along with the others.

A white-hot pain flared up in your thigh but you chose to ignore the sting, knowing that you'd faced far worse than a simple wound such as this before.

You handled heartbreak before, and were now, so what was a little gunshot going to do to you?

Steve carefully wrapped the last of the bandages around your leg before stepping towards the cockpit to help Sam man the jet, and you finally drifted off to sleep after what felt like days of enduring sleepless nights, allowing the darkness to consume you, covering you like a thick and heavy blanket.