https://itsapeterthing.tumblr.com/
pairing: peter parker x reader
summary: peter sees a figure walking through the trees during his run and investigates only to meet a girl named y/n painting in the woods.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: none, fluff
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Peter was almost regretting his decision to join the Avengers at the moment. Nearly getting himself killed dozens of times by adversaries was nothing compared to the run Cap had him and the other Avengers going on in what he considered to be the middle of nowhere. Although he had superhuman abilities that had definitely aided in his run at the beginning, he could feel himself struggling for air and his legs beginning to ache.
A few of the others had already fallen behind a while back and Peter felt himself about to trip over his own feet as he began to run slower.
"Getting tired?" None other than Steve himself asked, running up behind him.
Peter jumped, but then began to push himself to run faster. "N-no. No sir." Peter huffed. "This... is... easy."
Cap eyed Peter. "You should take a breather, kid. There's no harm in that."
Although Peter was always one to go out of his way to impress the Avengers- especially Captain America- he could barely breathe and his whole body felt like it was just begging for him to take a break.
"A- are you... sure?" Peter asked in between breaths.
"You know your way back?" Steve asked, matching Peter's pace.
Peter, running out of breath, no longer able to speak just nodded.
"Alright kid. I'll see you back at the Compound."
And with that, he picked up his pace, leaving Peter behind. Peter slowed to a stop and doubled over with his hands on his knees, heaving and struggling for breath. He attempted to salute in Cap's direction, but he had already run past Peter's point of view.
Still breathing heavy and exhausted, Peter stumbled over to the side of the road and flopped down on his back onto the grass. He turned his head to the side and as he did he saw a figure making their way through the trees.
He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "H- hey!" He called, but no one answered.
Peter pulled himself up, balancing himself on his elbows to get a better look before calling again. "Hello?"
After he once again did not receive an answer, he pulled himself onto his feet. He questioned whether he really did see someone or if the figure was just a figment of his imagination. He was unable to ask any of the others for reassurance since they either fell behind a while ago or they were ahead with Steve. Deciding to trust this own instincts, Peter began walking through the woods, using his "Peter tingle" as Aunt May liked to call it, to know where to go.
He stopped when he heard the snap of a twig and the rustling of leaves. Following the noise, he carefully walked over the branches scattered across the ground, not trying to alarm whoever he had just followed into the woods. As he approached where the noise had come from, he stopped and attempted to hide himself behind a tree.
In front of him he saw a girl pulling a chair up and off from the top of a table, onto the ground. He watched as she sat down in the chair, opening the bag at her side and pulling out a pad of paper, along with a tray of what he assumed to be paint and brushes.
He knew he probably should have turned around and that this was an invasion of privacy, but he couldn't help but watch as she painted. He was lured in by how peaceful she seemed. Around them was a peaceful quiet, with only the sounds of birds and the breeze flowing through the trees able to be heard.
It was so much different than what he had been used to. Even before he discovered that he had superpowers, he had lived in the city and there seemed to never be a moment of complete silence- from sirens at all hours of the day to groups of people chatting outside his window at all hours of the night. He thought he had found peace in the noise, but he had barely known the peacefulness of quiet.
Now that he was Spider-Man, it was even harder to find peace whether he was in the city protecting locals or tagging along with the Avengers to save humanity. He was so busy all of the time, it was difficult for him to find peace and quiet, never mind the serenity he felt around him in this exact moment.
Just as he was becoming lost in his own thoughts, he was pulled out of them by the snapping of a twig beneath his feet. As he did, his eyes went wide and he watched as the unnamed girl, jumped from her seat to her feet, scattering brushes and papers along the ground.
He threw his hands up in the air. "I'm sorry!" He spoke.
"Who are you?" She asked. "Did you... did you follow me?"
He could tell her heart rate was speeding up, worried that some random boy had followed her into the woods. That's fair, he thought.
"No!" He said, quickly. "I mean yeah- yes. But not in a creepy way! I just saw someone walk into the woods and I called and no one said anything so I- I just wanted to make sure that everything was okay."
She just stared at him.
"You know what? I should go. Yeah. I'm gonna leave you alone." He said, about to turn around.
"Wait." She called, finally speaking up and stopping him. "Are you... an Avenger?"
Now his heart was the one racing. "What? No!" He chuckled nervously. "Why... what would make you think that?"
She smiled, pointing at his t-shirt. "Because you have their logo on your shirt and it's the only place out here for like a mile."
Peter glanced down at the gray t-shirt he was wearing with the Avengers logo printed across his chest. Quickly, he attempted to spin a lie. "Oh this? No. Nope." He shook his head. "I just... work... at the Avengers Compound. I... hand out waters and stuff to um Thor and ya know... other... people."
There was a pause as the they stared at each other.
"I'm Y/n." You told him, moving your hand out to shake his.
He calmed down as you introduced yourself and your own heart settled, knowing now that you weren't scared of him- meaning you either believed what he said or just simply accepted his lie about working at the Avengers Compound. It wasn't a whole lie, he told himself though. He did "work" there and occasionally, as the youngest person there, was asked to fetch water from time to time.
"Peter." He said, taking your hand. "So... what are you doing out here?"
You then remembered what you had come out here for in the first place. You spun around turning back to look at your set up. "Oh!" You exclaimed. "I come out here sometimes to paint. It's really peaceful, you know?"
Peter nodded. He had just been thinking the same thing before he first saw you. It had been difficult for him to know peace for a long time, but here he felt as though he could breath even if it was for a short time.
"I know what you mean." He told you, then glancing at the mess he had caused when he first spooked you. "Let me help." He smiled, gesturing to the paint brushes and loose papers scattered along the floor.
You turned around, looking at the mess behind you. "You don't have to. It's okay!" You told him, striding over to your workspace and beginning to haphazardly organize the area.
Despite your assurances that you could clean up yourself, Peter followed behind you and began picking up your scattered paintings on the ground.
"You did all of these yourself?" He asked.
You watched as Peter stared at each of your quick paintings in his hand. He, admittedly, did not understand much about art, but he was in awe at the work he saw in front of him. The paintings he held in his hands depicted what he believed to be fairies sitting light as a feather on flowers and hidden in the trees. The design itself was soft and gentle and he was afraid to ruin something so precious in his hands.
"Yeah," You chuckled.
"They're really good." He told you, impressed. "I wish I could do stuff like this. How do you even do this?"
You smiled. A part of you was always nervous showing your paintings to someone else, especially a stranger, but it made you feel warm inside to have this cute, sweaty boy complimenting you on your art and impressed with your skill.
"Everyone has their thing." You told him. "What about you?"
Peter then thought about his abilities, but for obvious reasons he couldn't divulge on his strengths without the risk of exposing his identity. Although he couldn't share that part of himself with you- someone he just met- it made him remember who he was without his abilities- the skills and talents he possessed without the assistance of an accidental spider bite.
"My friend and I build lego sets." He shrugged.
"That can't be it." You laughed. "Come on! What are things you're good at?"
Peter hadn't been asked that question in regards to just himself in a while. He felt that people only cared about him recently because he was Spider-Man, not because he was Peter Parker. It felt good for someone to care about him for more than the things he couldn't control.
"Sciency stuff I guess." He told you as the two of you stood up and he handed you back your paintings.
You smiled, accepting the pages back and placing them on the table. "See! And you thought you weren't good at anything."
Peter smiled before scratching the back of his neck. "So... do you always hang out here in your free time?"
You sat back in your chair, this time organizing your desk space again. You placed your current work-in-progress in front of you and set out your paints. Taking a brush from one of those scattered across the table and dipping it in your desired color you laughed. "Not all the time. Why do you ask?"
Peter felt himself stiffen up. He knew why, but he didn't want to say it out loud. It wasn't often he met new people and felt comfortable enough around them, but around you, there was a carefree air. Although he had barely learnt anything about you besides your name and your inclination for painting in the wilderness, he wanted to learn more about you.
"Oh... well... you know..." He began. "Maybe we could hang out sometime? Not in the woods I mean. Not that there's anything wrong with it! I just- you know-"
At that he heard the strokes of your brush halt on the page as you lifted it and set it down in the glass of water in front of you. You turned back in your chair to look at him, leaning your arm over the back of it. "Like a date?" You asked, cutting him off.
Even though Peter had been through a lot that most teenagers his age had never experienced- that some would even claim required an excessive amount of bravery- he still got flustered when you asked him whether it was a date or not. He thought you were interesting and wanted to get to know you regardless. He would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in going on a date with you, but he also didn't want to risk facing rejection and embarrassment.
What do you have to lose? He asked himself.
"I'm sorry if that was forward-" You began as he took a bit longer than you had anticipated for him to answer.
"Yeah. Like a date." He cut you off. "If you want to anyway... you don't have to."
For what felt like the hundredth time since you first met him a few minutes ago, you smiled. "I'd like that."
And with that you and Peter exchanged numbers before he insisted you go back to painting and that people would begin looking for him soon if he didn't get back to his run. When his feet hit the road to start running again, he felt a new bolt of energy and pride rush through him as he thought about the cool painter girl's number he had just gotten in the woods and the date he would share with you that upcoming weekend.