spider-man and steve rogers oneshots 2

We Don't Trade Lives: P.P.

AU 2019, peter wasn't dusted so he's around 17-ish. :) inspired by a steve oneshot i read by @dixondarlin...obviously im not as good as she is hope you don't mind ALSO adoptive dad! steve :) IM SORRY THIS SUCKED

• ⋆━━━━━ ☆✭☆ ━━━━━ ⋆ •

You tried again and again and again. Each time, you were deftly deflected, tossed aside, pinned or knocked back, as if your attacks and all your training was nothing and had gone to waste. He was good. Too good. In all 4 years you'd served as a SHIELD agent and Avenger, not once had you ever come across an opponent as determined as him.

You tried for over an hour, ears ringing, nose bleeding. You're pretty sure your ribs are cracked and fingers broken at this point, until you were too exhausted to put any strength into a punch and the last lunge ended up more with you shaking in frustration against his chest. He caught your wrists firmly and twisted them into a more secure hold. You weren't used to facing off against someone who had the same skill level as you, or even better, for that matter. It frustrated you because he put up a fight, unlike countless soldiers you'd taken down on the battlefield who didn't even have the chance to raise their guns before they fell.

In the span of a split second that you stopped for, you're knocked swiftly to the ground. You hit your head against something, and a few minutes after the world stops spinning everything around you goes black.

When you come to, you feel your body being dragged forward, the sounds of the rubber soles at the bottom of your combat boots echoing off the bunker's steel walls. Your captor hauled you forward with such force to the point that taking a single step on your own couldn't be done without being met by resistance. His thick and beefy arm was hooked tightly across your neck and crushed against your windpipe, barely leaving any room to let in fresh oxygen for you to breathe.

In his opposite hand, held tightly a small gun bruising the side of your forehead as it dug its way deeper into your skin, the cold touch sending a shiver through you. Hot tears streamed down your face as you frantically tried to claw at his arm with your fingernails, but your attempts were futile. His grip around you was far too strong for you to break through, and with the little energy you had left inside of you, you wouldn't be able to do so, anyways.

"Take one more step, young man, and I'll blow her brains out."

The gruff tone of your captor sent an unpleasant chill down your spine. It was the first time he spoke since dragging you several hours earlier. Goosebumps arose on your skin as his breath blew across your cheek, and every inch of your body burned with adrenaline and fear.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Peter's silhouette emerged from the shadows, and a breathless exhale of relief escaped your trembling lips. You felt relieved and terrified at the same time; relieved that he'd come to save you, but terrified out of your mind at the fact that he could possible not walk out of this situation alive, putting his life on the line to save you when he didn't know if the outcomes would even turn out in his favor.

He glanced your way, eyes sending a single message that you were going to be just fine, everything would be okay, because I'm here, and I'm going to save you.

"If it isn't the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man," he snarled viciously, voice dripping as if it was laced with poison upon uttering his name. "The youthful, supposedly unconquerable hero. Here you stand...with her life hanging in the balance of it all. How does it feel to know that today, you will walk out with blood staining your hands no matter which way you choose to go about this?"

"I advise you let her go," Peter spoke calmly, "she's innocent. Y/N has done nothing wrong."

"Is that so?" the man hummed, nails digging deeper into your flesh. "We all know what your precious little lady here has done. She's got red in her ledger, worth nothing more than a weapon built for a killer's every need."