#userparkerpuff

Sometimes, she really hated Tom.

Of course, she loved him to death, so she could never actually hate him. But every once in a while, her beautiful, extremely annoying boyfriend found a way to push every single one of her buttons all at once.

And today, he’d done just that.

She was whining dramatically, kicking her legs underneath the blankets and squirming on the couch. He was barely even moving, but something about the way his hand rested on her leg was driving her nuts.

“Get off,” she cried, flipping herself over in one smooth motion and screaming into the pillow.

Tom chuckled. “Are you alright, babe?”

“No!”

“What’s wrong, lovely?”

“Everything.”

Tom chuckled again, rubbing at her legs with his hands to try and soothe her a little. But this, plus his laughter, only made her squirm more.

“Stop laughing at me. You’re mean, and I hate you.”

“Aw, babe,” he replied, pouting. “You don’t mean that.”

Her face was still shoved in the pillow, her legs flailing wildly as Tom looked down at her. Tessa had stopped chewing on her ball, and was watching from next to Tom, a frightened look on her face.

“I do! I do! You’re laughing at me and you’re mean!”

“M’not laughing – I swear,” Tom said, laughing even harder.

She swirled over and sat straight up, her face red with anger and from being stuffed in a pillow for so long. She thrust a pointed finger at Tom, scowling, and when he smiled again, she jabbed her finger into his cheek.

“There!” She cried. “You see? You’re laughing at me.”

Tom held his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I won’t laugh any more, I promise.”

She huffed, crossing her arms, staring at Tom pointedly with her brows furrowed. He was just watching her, his coffee-colored eyes wide, but he brought his hands down to rest against her hips.

“I love you.”

She looked up into those eyes, and she could feel her heart start to melt. At first, she had been joking, flailing about to get out some of her pent-up energy. But now, she was in far too deep. For women everywhere, she had to stand strong.

“Stop it!” She cried.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re using your puppy dog eyes to manipulate me. I can see right through you!”

Tom laughed again, lighting up the room with his bright smile, and she pouted in response.

“Stop being so gosh darn pretty,” she mumbled under her breath, hoping it was low enough where Tom wouldn’t be able to hear.

But of course he had.

“Ah-hah! You do love me!”

“No, I don’t! I hate you!”

Tom had progressed to tickling her to try and get her to smile. It was working, just a little bit, and she started to pant with laughter.

“Stop it! Stop – I yield!”

“Say it,” Tom responded, still tickling her, not moving his hands until he heard the magic words.

She squealed under his fingers before she was forced to cry out, “Fine, I love you!”

Almost instantly, Tom bent forward, his arms coming to wrap around her so he could press his head against her chest. Without hesitation, her fingers came up to tangle into his hair, her energy now spent, and they returned to the show they’d been watching before their “fight”.

A few minutes later, Tom tilted his head to look up at her, his big puppy dog eyes shining brightly.

“I love you more.”

She smiled, kissing his forehead, her hands returning to tangle in his chocolate curls once again.

“I love you most.”

Peter had always been the funniest guy MJ knew. For as long as she could remember, Ned and Peter had been hilarious, but Peter was something else. Somehow, he had always carried it with him. It was a weird goofiness that made MJ feel warm whenever she was around him, it made her feel safe. And to MJ, that was so unbelievably and irrevocably calming.

But as Peter was standing in front of her right now, in the apartment they shared, MJ couldn't find the hilarity that had always upheld him. It shifted her insides uncomfortably. His face was illuminated by the bedside lamp they now shared, beside the bed they had recently purchased. His eyes hung heavy and the circles underneath his eyes, to MJ's knowledge and memory, had never been worse. He grunted in pain as she helped him readjust onto the pillow. He tried to force a smile to calm MJ down, but like most days, it didn't work. She was too worried about the hit he took saving the city. His city. Her city. Their city.

Sometimes she wished that he could be normal, that she didn't have to control her tears every week when she patched him up. That she didn't have a dull ache in her head every morning after, and that Peter looked more peaceful when he was awake, rather than when he was asleep next to her. But when she caught herself going down that path, she remembered everything he'd lost, and how much more love he deserved to have. She breathed and found herself again.

She looked at him and intertwined their hands, with her other, she felt his heartbeat. 'He's alive MJ, he's still here, he's right here, he's alive!' She kept saying to herself. 'But for how much longer?' She fought.

She felt numb. She couldn't look at the love of her life like this, half dead and unable to breath without being in pain.

'MJ, hey, MJ, look at me. Hey, look at me love look! I'm still here babe, I'm still kickin', look at me love!' He's spoken softly as his hands enveloped her face, readily reading her mind. He cupped her cheeks and stared intently at her.

Despite all of the pain, Peter's glistening eyes were the same comforting ones they'd always been, it seemed to ground her. She gently placed her lips on his, careful not to hurt him. They were taking it slow, but at the feel of Peter's lips, she had no idea why they weren't skin on skin yet. Everything about him enveloped her, and she couldn't really fathom the amount of love she had for this boy.

Peter moaned, and MJ's relief set in as she realized that it was not of pain. He carefully hoisted her onto him and trailed his arms underneath her shirt. The newfound intensity at his touch drove MJ wild, she knew that this wasn't the right time, but no part of her brain could bring herself to stop it. He took off her shirt and kissed her neck, MJ's head was buzzing, becoming murkier by the second. She was unable to form coherent thought. Peter had changed the pace of their kiss; it became more and more longing, more and more desperate. MJ knew that he was telling her that he was there, that he was alive and that he was with her. She gave in. She took the suit off him and opened her eyes.

MJ had seen him shirtless before, heck she'd seen all his scars, but today, she realized that there were way more than she had thought. Every inch of him was covered in an old or new scar, a different cut, varying in direction, varying in shape and in size, in intensity and color. It pained her that he was a battlefield, that he was chosen to carry the burden on everyone's behalf.

Peter looked up at her, ironically they weren't in any rush. Peter wanted to hold on this moment forever, watching MJ observing him, gaining the complete and utter confidence that she was with him, and that she wouldn't leave his side.

'Could you tell me about them?' She asked.

'You wanna know about my scars?' He asked in response, it was odd to him. MJ nodded intently. She had always wanted to put his mask aside when he got home from his night job, but tonight was different. Tonight she wanted to know more than that he was alive and that he was going to wake up next to her tomorrow morning as Peter and not Spiderman.

Peter smiled at the thought of it, he didn’t really talk about it much. He may have had accelerated healing, but the scars took longer to cure, they always had a small reminiscence on his skin. Now, a part of him was glad about it, that he had a token to prove his effort.

He felt, suddenly, very content that she had asked. The two of them readjusted on their bed, with MJ on Peter's laid out arm, head on his chest like she usually had, trying not to stress his fresh wounds, and Peter resting on a pillow.

After a few moments of their breaths mingling rhythmically, he began telling her everything, from his very first scratch to his very recent slash. Peter lent his soul to her; how he believed it was worth it, how he believed that everything he endured was enough if it saved one more life. One more Uncle Ben, one more Tony.

Peter’s heart was racing so fast that it rang in his ears. Or maybe that was the heartbeats of the hundreds of people that were all looking at him. His picture still large on the screen. His name on a loop in his brain. He reaffirmed his grip on the streetlight he was perched on before swinging away as quickly as he could. He knew where he was going, where he needed to go.

Your mind was invested in the pages of your book occasionally peering down at your phone just to check for a text or phone call. Peter had texted you as soon as he’d landed back in New York and he said he’d be around to see you soon and tell you about his trip. You looked to your window but soon shook your head and peered down at the your book. And of course Venice would appear as soon as your eyes landed on the page. The place that Peter had texted you in wishing you were there with him.

You went to a different school to Peter so you hadn’t gone on the school trip with him, but he’d text you about it and you’d gotten updates not only from him but from the news as well speaking of the ‘Night-monkey’. You laughed at that and had teased him for days. But you’d avoided the world today, waiting only for Peter and his warm embrace again with excitement. You were just thinking about how much you missed him when there was a loud knock on your window.

You jumped up and ran over, pulling it open as soon as you saw the unmistakable red of his new suit. “Peter!” He entered, pulling off his mask and throwing it the floor because what even was the point anymore? You quickly pulled him into a hug, kissing his cheek. He would have smiled if thoughts of that broadcast weren’t still fogging his brain and sending sparks of panic throughout his whole body because the bad guys were probably already knocking on his door. You were just talking about how much you’d missed him when he shook his head and you heard a sniffle. Your smile fell in an instant. “What’s wrong?” You pulled back and saw how much he was shaking. His words were jumbling together, and you could tell he was panicking. “Pete?” Your hands held his face firmly, urging him to look at you. You started to notice the cuts, bruises and starts of scars that lined his face.

“Shit- everything’s - it’s.” Peter broke from your embrace and started to pace your bedroom. His hand running down his face. “They know!”

“Who knows what?!” You asked calmly, taking a seat at the edge of your bed and encouraging Peter to sit with you but he shook his head, still pacing.

“Everyone! they know it’s me, they know I’m Spider-man Y/n!” Peter gestured towards the window, his eyes wild and panic-stricken. You returned the expression but tried to remain calm at the same time. Peter nodded his head even as you didn’t say anything, the way your heartbeat sped up spoke a thousand words.

“Okay tell me everything.” You took a deep breath.

“I haven’t got time, I’ve got to fix this!” Peter’s voice was an octave higher as he yelled. You were taken aback. This is bad. The thought you knew already only proved further by the next word that left Peter’s lips. “Fuck.”

You hid your surprise and instead bit your lip, trying hard to think of ways to calm him down. “Pete.” You tried the calm approach again, only watching as the panic surfaced more and more, his breathing becoming unsteady. “Peter!” The loudness of your voice made him stop and turn to you. “Will you just sit down please?” Peter’s wide brown eyes met your pleading ones and he nodded, sinking down onto the bed. You put hands on his arms and tried to get his breathing to slow until it matched your own. You wiped some tears that had fallen from his cheeks, careful to avoid the injuries that made your heart threaten to fall from its confines.

“Okay well first of all, Nick Fury shows up at my hotel room and shots Ned with a tranquilizer…”

Peter went through the story of his vacation, some things you knew from his texts and calls and others you didn’t.

“YOU GOT HIT BY A FUCKING TRAIN?!”

“Yeah, yeah that’s not the point.” Peter shook his head, ignoring the way your eyes bore into him, wide and full of shock. That definitely seemed like something he should have mentioned before but then again how would he have said that without you booking the next flight to where he was.

“Peter! A TRAIN. HIT. YOU.” You tried not to yell, you really did but the thoughts of your boyfriend being hit by a train was not an image you could rid of easily. Peter saw your look and reached for your hand as a reminder that he was okay.

“Yes it hurt, and I passed out and woke up in the Netherlands.” Peter explained as if it wasn’t a big deal and you fought back a scoff. “Did you know they’re so nice over there?” You blinked at his simplicity of the situation before shaking your head in answer to his question.

Peter sensed your worry even though he had been trying to change the subject. He tightened his grip on your hand and was just about to remind you that he was okay and here with you when he heard the tv from the next room increase in volume and J. Jonah Jameson’s voice booming into Peter’s ears once again.

“Pete? It’s okay.” However despite your words you could feel yourself panicking with him as you heard his name being called from the tv followed by a gasp from your parents.

“No y/n. No it’s not. How is this okay?!” Peter’s voice was still yelling but he’d lowered himself to a whisper because your parents would be alert now that your boyfriend was Spider-man and according to the tv had called a strike on London.

“I don’t know.” You shook your head hopelessly before meeting Peter’s eyes and exchanging a look of worry. Peter’s eyes drooped with sadness.

“I wish Tony was here.” His words were breathless, and it wasn’t words you hadn’t heard before but this time it wasn’t just because Peter missed him. Neither of you knew what to do.

Peter knew he should be trying to fix this mess, he should be doing something but ten more minutes in your arms seemed like a nice option. He was reminded of how you would tell him “Anger clouding your mind isn’t going to help anything.” He thought about what Tony would do and that’s when it occurred to him.

“That’s it!”

You watched in confusion as Peter jumped up and reached for his phone. He loaded something on the screen and sat by you. It was a video, the video of Tony’s press conference from 2008. You remembered watching it when you were younger on the news, your eyes lighting up at the thought that superheroes were real and not just stories. Peter remembered a similar memory of his own.

“So what? You’re just going to tell the world you’re Spiderman?”

“No not exactly.”

You looked at Peter curiously as he tried to give you a hopeful smile.

----------

“There’s been a lot of rumours about who I am and what I did in London. I’m not here to make up a story or excuses but I can tell you that the man who released that video cannot be trusted. And if you still have faith in me then thank you. I promise to get you the truth.” Peter felt panic rise in his chest as he finished the last word. The reporters in front of him burst into questions but thankfully, Happy was already rushing him off stage with a “No comment.”

“Okay. Now what?” You asked as soon as you spotted Peter coming out from the room. He hugged you tightly and took a moment to listen to your heartbeat to calm his own down. “We could go back to London and find the footage?” You said hopefully.

“No it’s all destroyed.” Peter shook his head with a frown, biting his lip.

“There is another option.” You pursed your lips and bit the inside of your cheek, Peter’s worried glance switching to confused. “We get help.”

--

Steve Rogers was tired. He was so, so tired. The battle had been raging on for hours now, and the portal in the sky above the Empire State building didn’t seem to be closing anytime soon. He pummeled his shield into the chest of a Chitauri soldier. Then flung it up into the air, right into the barrel of one of their ships. Tony and Banner were off dealing with the big guys, and he had just finished boosting Natasha into the air to hitch a ride up to the cube.

Lighting pierced the sky as Thor thrust Mjolnir up into the air, striking down every soldier within a 10-yard radius. Clint fired an explosive arrow into one of the soldier’s heads, sending him and his ship careening into the remaining ships behind them. The Avengers seemed to be winning so far. But as Steve watched a hoard of Chitauri flood down 67th, he sighed heavily, wiping the sweat and a small trail of blood from his brow. The rest of the team were otherwise occupied at the moment, meaning he would have to deal with the pests himself for the time being.

Steve bounded down the street, gave himself a boost off the roof of a car, and sprinted off in pursuit of the alien soldiers. They were no match for his speed (or his strength for that matter), and he managed to wipe most of them out with a few quick swings of his shield before they even stepped off the street. He let out a sigh of relief, knowing that there were families in the buildings surrounding him, hiding away from the battle taking place in the city. Steve knew the innocent civilians wouldn’t stand a chance against the aliens.

It seemed that Steve couldn’t catch a break that day, as a flash of movement into one of the buildings caught his eye. He swore under his breath and sprinted down the street, trying to get into the building before the soldier could cause any damage.

It was too late. Not a moment later, the ground rumbled beneath his feet and a blast set the building ablaze, sending Steve hurtling backwards and into the windshield of a nearby Volvo.

“No,” he gasped, pushing himself up and speeding towards the apartments. He flung himself up the fire escape a floor at a time, searching the windows for any signs of survivors. A broken window and a giant hole in the floor of a third story apartment caught his eye, and he leapt through the window and into the apartment.

Taking in the sight around him, tears welled in his eyes. The outside structure of the building had deceived him – what remained of the brick exterior was just a mirage of what lay inside: nothing. The entire center of the building was gone, reduced to rubble on the first floor. A bed lay in pieces in the corner, and from what he could tell, it belonged to a young girl judging by the light pink covers peeking through the smoke. He could see the broken remains of the families that once lived here, protruding out of the pile of ashes and dust. All hope of finding any survivors was now lost.

A sharp squeal startled him, and he circled the room, looking and listening for the source of the sound.

“Help!”

There it was again. He’d caught it this time, pinpointing the source of the sound to the room next to the one he was currently in. He slammed his body against the door next to him, and hard. The door broke loose from its frame and tumbled into the adjoining room, breaking what remained of the floor and falling down into the abyss below.

Steve stepped gently around the hole that remained, the floor boards creaking dangerously beneath him. As he looked around the room, he became very aware of the source of the sound.

A young girl, whom Steve gathered to be around 10, stood pressed up against the wall at the corner of the room. The window was to her left, but the hole in the floor reached all the way to the exterior wall, preventing her from using the window as an escape route.

But that wasn’t the only thing that caught Steve’s eye.

The girl was surrounded by a force field of what could only be described as lightning. A broken, mutilated body of the offending Chitauri soldier who had caused the blast lay crumpled at her feet. The lightning pulsed around her, protecting her from anything that might harm her. As pieces of the crumbling roof began to collapse around them, they failed to break through the force field. Steve’s eyes widened as he took in the situation – the girl was standing in the corner of the room, on the only remaining piece of steady flooring left.

“Help me, please,” she pleaded, finally meeting Steve’s eyes.

Oh.

Oh, how she looked like her.

With tumbling chocolate hair and rosy cheeks, she was the spitting image of a young Peggy Carter. Sharon had shown Steve pictures of Peggy when she was a little girl, and this girl looked like she had sprung from the pictures into their time. The only difference separating them were the girl’s eyes, which shone a bright blue.

Steve had to get them out alive.

“Okay,” he answered, “I’m going to get you out of here and somewhere safe. But I need you to listen to me very carefully, okay? This building is going to come down, and I need you to follow my instructions.”

The girl nodded. Steve had never been very adept around children, but his quick speech and his even faster thinking skills seemed to do the trick.

He gingerly made his way to where the girl was standing. “Grab on to me, and hold on tight. We’re going to get out of here.”

The girl retracted her force field and wound her arms around Steve’s neck, pressing herself flat against his back. He made his way back the way he came, all the while the building shuddering around them. The girl squealed as a piece of rubble almost came down on them, knocking another hole through the floor. But Steve kept his cool. He was the adult; he had to.

The pair reached the window where Steve had entered, and he helped the girl through onto the fire escape. She grasped at the metal bars like her life depended on it – which in reality, it did – and the few seconds she and Steve were separated felt like a lifetime. She watched with bated breath as he slipped through the window, the concrete exterior of the building starting to crack, and he heard her whimper as the fire escape began to tilt beneath them. As fast as he could, he grabbed her by the arms and flung her onto his back and began the climb down.

Fate was cruel to him that day. As soon as his feet touched the ladder, the metal began to pitch back and forth as if in a tornado. Steve groaned with effort, his able body keeping them on the ladder, but the girl wasted no time in clamping her eyes shut, small squeals leaving her lips as she was flung back and forth.

“Hold on,” he yelled, picking up his pace. The girl clutched at the straps of his uniform, winding her legs around his waist and hooking them together at the ankles. Just as the building finally collapsed, Steve reached the ground, and began to remove the girl off his back.

But she wouldn’t let go. She stayed wound tightly around him, shaking with tears.

“My parents,” she sobbed, “They fell through when the blast hit. And then one of them flew up with a gun at me, and I don’t know, everything just kind of happened. One minute he was going to pull the trigger and the next he was on the floor.”

Steve’s heart broke for her. This was her first ever interaction with her powers, and she’d just lost her parents. He didn’t think there could be a worse way to find out a person had special abilities.

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly, walking back down the street where he came from. Broken remains of alien solders and the harsh, blinding metal of cars greeted them as they walked, and the girl kept her head tucked safely between Steve’s shoulder blades until they’d reached the safety of the Quinn Jet. He set her down gently on the ground, and she shrunk in on herself, curling into a ball and resting her head on her knees. Steve grabbed one of the blankets from a storage compartment behind him and draped it over her shoulders. He wrapped her up tightly, making sure she was fully covered up and warm, before she finally found the courage to look up at him.

What greeted her was Steve’s warm smile, and bright blue eyes to match. Comfort washed over her like waves crashing on to a beach, and the tears she’d been crying at the loss of her parents suddenly turned cool.

“You’re safe now. You don’t ever have to be afraid again.”

From that moment on, Charlotte Anderson, or Charlie as they called her, was Steve Rogers’ own personal responsibility. He brought her back to the Avengers Tower with them, and told her that this would be her new home. Of course, the team was completely behind it all, with the exception of Clint.

“Steve, you have no idea how to raise a kid. Hell, the last time Nat gave you a plant you killed it!” Clint almost shouted when he first learned of the situation.

“I can’t just leave her out there, Clint,” Steve responded, clutching the girl’s hand. “She had no idea she even had powers up until this point. She belongs with us, with people who can understand her.”

Clint sighed, looking down at Charlie with soft eyes. He thought about Laura then, about how they’d been trying for what felt like years before they finally had Cooper a few months ago. His throat clenched at the thought of someone leaving Cooper behind if they weren’t around, and he suddenly went soft. How could they abandon her?

He heaved a deep sigh, and looked into Steve’s eyes. What had been soft mere moments prior suddenly became ice cold as he looked at the taller man, and Clint jabbed a pointed finger at Steve’s chest.

“Fine. But if anything ever happens to her, I will murder you.”

And with that, Charlie became an honorary Avenger. When Thor returned from his adventures on Asgard, he helped her train with her powers. He taught her how to understand lightning and electricity, and how to control it. Tony built her a suit of smooth, deep blue woven fibers. The suit glowed with electricity when she activated her powers, and allowed her to move quickly and nimbly. It was, of course, designed to withstand up to Thor’s level of wattage, which in testing had failed many times. But once Tony got the calibrations just right, Charlie and Thor were able to charge each other’s powers. Thor could send a blast of thunder and lightning her way, and her suit would absorb it and redirect the energy back out through her palms. When she laid her hands on Thor’s shoulders, lightning would pulse from Mjolnir, and Thor would go rocketing up into the air, storm clouds building in the sky around them.

Things weren’t always easy. Charlie often had nightmares, and would wake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, screaming. It felt as if she had been falling through the hole in the floor that had claimed her parents’ lives mere months prior. Steve was always by her side, comforting her through the nightmares. He’d cradle her, and recount how he’d lost his family trying to save the rest of the world – trying to save his home. He’d even lost the person he loved most in the world, only to wake up 70 years later without a clue as to what was going on.

He was Charlie’s rock. When things seemed darkest, when it felt like her world was crumbling to the ground just like her building, Steve would grab on to her and hold her tightly to his chest. He gave her something to clutch onto, a warm and safe haven that she could rely on. The Avengers very quickly became her family, and she became like a daughter to all of them. And it wasn’t very long before the tower began to feel like her home.

When Steve and Tony had their falling out several years later, it sent Charlie to pieces. Steve left and he didn’t come back. At first, she thought he was dead. She wouldn’t come out of her room at the new Avengers compound for days, and even Happy failed to convince her to eat. But then Pepper and Tony had sat her down and explained everything as best they could, without placing any of the blame on Steve. He was just trying to protect his best friend.

But Charlie was nonetheless upset. Now who would she go to? Clint was under house arrest; Natasha had clearly chosen her side. Even Wanda was off God-knows-where with Vision.

That was when Pepper and Tony had offered them to be her new home. She could stay in the compound, where she was comfortable now. They would even be like a real family – Tony promised he’d sit at the table and have dinner with them at least once a week.

How could Charlie say no?

She had no idea where Steve was, and as much as she missed him to bits, she was tired of being shuffled from home to home without any real explanation, without any choice. She really liked Pepper’s company – Pepper was the closest thing she could ever come to having a mother again. She’d followed Steve wherever he went, but now she was 15. And Pepper and Tony hadn’t made any decisions for her. They’d given her the option, and she’d made her choice.

And then came Peter Parker.

Peter was always ruining everything.

Tony had brought him up to the compound to train over the summer, as Tony was constantly developing new web shooters to build into his suit. He’d even let Charlie help with some of the combinations. She’d never actually met Spider-Man, but Tony had told her plenty about him. Tony beamed when he talked about the kid, like he did when he talked to Pepper about Charlie. It was clear that Peter was like the son that Tony never had.

The day Peter arrived to the compound, he practically sprinted into the building. He’d been to summer camp before, but this was superhero summer camp – way better than the robotics camp he had been to in the city. He was moving so fast that he wasn’t at all looking where he was going, and suddenly Peter and Charlie quite literally crashed into each other, Charlie’s treasured stack of books tumbling out of her arms and sprawling onto the floor.

“Ohmygosh, I am so sorry!” Peter stumbled out, “I-I didn’t see you and – shit – oh my god, your books are everywhere, I am so so sorry.”

Charlie was already in a grumpy mood, and now her favorite books were scattered down the marble hallway, their pages bent out of place. “You said that already,” she muttered, bending over to begin collecting them.

“Here, let me get those,” Peter sputtered, hurtling down the hallway and fetching each book off the floor, straightening out the pages as he went. Charlie stood awkwardly watching as he picked them up off the floor, failing to not notice his chocolate brown curls constantly falling in front of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry about that,” Peter said again, gently laying the stack of books in Charlie’s waiting arms. “I’m Peter, by the way, Peter Parker.”

Charlie didn’t even realize they hadn’t connected eyes yet until they finally did. It felt like the universe melted around them, Charlie melting with it until she was reduced to a puddle on the floor. Peter’s eyes glinted in the sunlight, reflecting deep rings of coffee and flecks of gold.

Charlie coughed, realizing she’d been staring for way too long. (But Peter had been staring too). “I’m Charlie.”

“Hi,” Peter breathed, half gasping, “I’m Spider-Man, if we’re using our made-up names.”

Charlie chuckled, and Peter swore his heart seeped down into his toes at the sound. “Hi, Spider-Man. Welcome to the team. I’ll see you around, okay? Try not to break anything else.” She turned away smiling, while a bright pink blush crept up Peter’s cheeks.

“Yeah,” Peter muttered, half under his breath, “Yeah, okay,” as he watched Charlie walk away. He still felt like he couldn’t quite get enough oxygen, despite exhaling heavily once Charlie turned the corner.

Peter had never met anyone in the whole world like her. She may have looked like Peggy when she was younger, but as her powers had developed, and as she’d started to mature, her looks had changed. Her hair was now a dark ebony, and in the right light it almost looked blue. But her eyes were really what held Peter up. They were a crisp, bright blue, and if she turned her head the right way, they looked like actual lightning, like if Charlie had looked at someone hard enough, they’d get electrocuted.

Peter didn’t train very well that day, and neither did Charlie. Immediately, they felt different then before they had met, but neither of them could explain the feeling. But Charlie knew somehow that Peter Parker was going to be a very big problem.