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peteywillproceed · 4 years

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The Devil In Disguise - Part 1

A/N: Hi guys, wow this has been a long time coming! I’ve been writing this whilst being sick in bed, so I hope it’s not that terrible! As always, I hope you like it, constructive feedback is appreciated, and if you wanna be added to the taglist just send me an ask! x

Summary: Y/n belongs to The Circle, a criminal gang known for its ruthlessness and brutality. Given a mission to kill Spiderman, Y/n attends Midtown High undercover to seek him out, not intending to feel more for one of her new friends than she should. Meanwhile, Spiderman must deal with the increasingly dangerous Huntress, never suspecting her true identity might hit closer to home than he could ever believe…

Word Count: 4,150 (the very defintion of getting carried away!)

Prologue

The New York skyline glittered in front of you as you stepped into the street and the sun began to rise. Ribbons of orange and yellow light were scattered through panels of glass lining the roads, buildings stretching so far into the sky you had to squint to see the tops. The acrid smell of smoke from exhaust pipes burnt the insides of your nostrils, but the feeling was so new, so exciting, that you barely thought about it, choosing instead to glide along the pavements as horns honked and the city came alive.

All it had taken was a three-hour flight from Minnesota and awkward introductions to your cover family for you to get here; now it was Monday, the first day back for the kids at Midtown Tech, and your first day period. Your school bag felt foreign on your shoulders, the weight of textbooks and assigned reading an alien feeling. You’d almost ignored the homework, like you’d always done when your dad tried to assign you extra reading for your training.

But you knew if you wanted to fit in, the bad girl image you’d worked so hard to create over the years wasn’t going to work, so instead you’d stuffed the suit Brenton had given you into the dark depths of the bag and buried it with chemistry. Begrudgingly, you’d cast an eye over the pages in an attempt to figure out what you’d be expected to do at this school, and you hadn’t understood a word. How Brenton had wangled your entrance to the best science school in the country was truly a mystery.

You swung through the gates and pushed your sunglasses up on your head, ignoring the surprised looks from students who weren’t used to newbies. You winked at one of the boys staring with his mouth open and spat the gum you’d been chewing into the nearest bin, catching yourself before you let yourself go too much. You were Brooke Loader, chemistry nerd and all around good girl, whose wardrobe consisted solely of grey cardigans and granny skirts. You weren’t Y/n L/n anymore, and you had to be careful.

“Excuse me?” you caught a guy’s shoulder as he rushed past you and looked up at him through your lashes. “Can you tell me where B27 is?”

“You’re new?” the guy ran his eye over you questioningly “I’m Flash.”

“Err, nice to meet you. But I’m really just looking for homeroom.”

Flash nodded, a smirk appearing on his face. “That’s round the corner, good luck with Harrington.”

Without another word he spun on his feet and disappeared into the throng of students that had appeared in the corridor. You glanced down the hallway he’d pointed to and noticed a bunch of kids streaming into a classroom, figuring that was where you needed to be. You glanced at your watch, noting you were perfectly late, and strode towards the door.

“Ahh, Miss Loader, I was wondering when you were going to show up,” a voice dripping with sarcasm drawled as you poked your head through. You glanced up at the male voice and saw the guy you guessed was Mr Harrington, giving him a small wave as you stood awkwardly in the door. You’d never played the quiet, unsure girl, and it was taking all your energy to bite back your retort.

“Well, please take a seat. There’s one next to MJ,” he pointed towards a girl with long, brown hair, whose head was buried in a book. As you swung into the seat, you clocked the title and leaned over to whisper to her.

“To Kill A Mockingbird? That’s my favourite.” Of course it wasn’t, you’d never read the stupid thing. But it was Brooke’s favourite.

MJ raised her eyebrows, squinting as she tried to make you out. Her gaze was so penetrating that for one, awful minute you thought she’d figured you out and your cover was already blown. But a smile soon spread across her face and she closed the book.

“Mine too,” she nodded, reaching her hand out “MJ.”

“Brooke,” you grinned, glad you’d got through to her. You glanced nervously towards the front of the class, but Mr Harrington was busy at his computer and you reckoned it was probably safe to talk.

“So, you’re new then, how’d that happen? It’s senior year.”

“Parents moved,” you shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “guess they just couldn’t leave me behind.”

It was a simple cover, but MJ burst into laughter and your joke, earning herself an annoyed look from Harrington. “What’s your specialty?”

“Chemistry. But I gotta be honest, I didn’t really think I’d get in here.”

“Really?” MJ raised an eyebrow “why’s that?”

“I bombed the entrance tests,” you pretended to look ashamed, glancing back down at your desk “I kind of feel like I don’t belong.”

“Don’t be stupid, what have you got next? The bell goes soon and I can walk you there.”

“Wow, thanks. Err, I think I have History,” you pointed at the print out of the timetable you’d grabbed from reception and MJ smiled.

“Me too. You’ve got lunch the same period as me and my friends, I’ll introduce you guys. You’ll meet more friendly faces like that.”

You didn’t know why you felt so relieved, you hadn’t been worried about making friends, but there was something about MJ that made you want to impress her, even if you were lying through your teeth to do it.

The bell rang, a screeching sound you definitely had not been prepared for, and MJ laughed as your hands flew over your ears. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”

“It’s like a fucking banshee,” you muttered, eyes widening as you realised what you’d just said. Brooke Loader definitely didn’t swear. “I..I mean…”

“Brooke, chill, you can swear, I don’t care!”

“Oh okay,” you took a breath, bracing yourself for anymore slip ups. You’d been here less than half an hour, and already you were royally screwing up the only job Brenton had ever entrusted you with.

As MJ walked with you to your next class, you chatted animatedly about the city and everything there was to do. You kept trying to slip in Spiderman, but she brushed off any mention of the superhero, and changed the conversation back to what you’d been talking about originally. She didn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d be interested in what celebrities got up to anyway, and you made a mental note to try and bring him up in a different way.

At last, the class started and you could lose yourself in rudimentary history you’d never cared about. There was way too much bias in the subject, you remembered one of your tutors telling you, and the only thing you could learn from a class like that was just how dedicated they were to the government. You scribbled notes like your hand was on fire, staying as quiet as you could, but none of what you wrote down was what the teacher was lecturing. Instead, you made a plan of attack for finding more about the webslinger you’d been assigned to take out.

You seriously doubted that any of the students knew his identity, and even if they did they weren’t just going to outright tell you. No, you had to be sneaky here, and you had to bring it up subtly. You decided that, every chance you got, you’d slip in a question relating to Spiderman that would be innocuous enough. After all, why wouldn’t you be curious? You’d just moved to the city that was home to an Avenger!

When the final bell rang, you knew exactly what you had to do. A buzz in your pocket let you know you had a text, the only possible source the burner phone Brenton had given you before you’d left.

‘Status report’

You rolled your eyes. Jesus, you’d been here less than twenty four hours, what did the man expect? Full details of identity and credit card info?

‘Give me a chance. My bed’s barely gone cold.’

Hoping the response was snappy enough to get him off your case, all you had to do now was pray your plan of action worked - if it didn’t, you didn’t want to think about what the consequences might be.

***

“Guys, this is Brooke,” MJ introduced you to the circle of people crowded round one of the cafeteria tables who stared at you like you were the last sandwich at the picnic.

“Hi,” you smiled, casting your eye over them. They were all the same age, and at least you recognised one. Flash was leaning back in his chair, his feet kicked up on the table with a wicked glint in his eye.

“Hey sweetheart, find homeroom alright then?”

“You’re friends with him?” you raised an eyebrow in MJ’s direction and she stifled a laugh.

“Not really, he just hangs around because he can’t convince anyone else to put up with him.”

“Now that makes sense.” Flash rolled his eyes at your comment, but you simply took a seat in front of a brown, curly haired boy who hadn’t taken his eyes off you. “Brooke,” you introduced yourself “nice to meet you.”

“Pe…Peter,” he stumbled, and you bit back a smile. Somebody wasn’t used to talking to girls, you thought, spying the awkward rub of sweaty palms against jeans. He was kind of cute, in a nerdy, never had sex kind of way – his jumper was ruffled and his hair was a mess, none of that nasty gel stuff you’d seen in the movies. He didn’t seem that sure of himself, too busy clutching a pen between his fingers as he scribbled what looked like equations into a book.

“And I’m Ned,” the other guy interrupted, and you mentally shook yourself. You were here for one thing and one thing only, and it wasn’t to be going after guys.

“Nice to meet you, Ned,” you nodded, scooping up some of the brown sludge you’d had slopped on your plate by a slightly grumpy cafeteria lady. “God, the food really isn’t good anywhere is it?”

“Just wait until you try the lasagne,” Peter laughed, suddenly animated. “I’m pretty sure they use cardboard instead of pasta.”

“Good to know,” you smiled, itching to change this conversation into something more interesting. Luckily, MJ swooped in with the perfect question, and you knew exactly how to work that to your advantage.

“So Brooke, what do you like about New York so far?” she asked, and you pretended to think.

“Well, I’ve not seen that much, but I hear Spiderman lives here,” you shot a conspiring look at MJ who shifted uncomfortably in her suit “he’s pretty cool.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ned coughed, and suddenly the atmosphere grew a lot tenser than it had been twenty seconds ago. That was odd, you thought – for a city so hung up on having its own Avenger, these people seemed…awkward. Why? What did they have to hide?

“Do you see him on the streets?” You asked breezily, happily tucking into your food as you felt eyes burning your skin.

“Err, well, he’s pretty busy I guess,” MJ coughed, and you glanced over at Peter who’d remained suspiciously quiet throughout the whole conversation.

“Pete?”

“Wha- oh, uh, Spiderman? Yeah, uh, he’s cool, he’s a cool dude,” Peter stuttered, turning bright red. You were feeling the second hand embarrassment here, and you wanted to scream.

“Do you guys just not like him or something?” you tried to play your comment off, laughing and flipping your hair, but the tension was still thick in the air and you cursed yourself for alienating them already. It was pretty clear they knew more than they let on.

“No, no, nothing like that,” Flash grinned “it’s just he’s only usually about at night so none of us really know that much about him. People make out that he’s Queens’ little superhero but he’s an Avenger, he’s not really hanging about on the streets.”

You nodded, stuffing your face with the disgusting mash before you could say anything else. Another beep in your pocket and you turned away from the group, letting them dive back into their own conversations whilst you slid the burner phone out of your pocket.

Need you to go to Warehouse tonight. Pick up a package and keep it safe. Address to follow.

You let the words wash over you, processing what they meant, and bit back the squeal that threatened to erupt. Finally, you got to go and do something – these people might not be giving you anything, but at least the mission wasn’t completely boring.

“What ya doing?” a voice interrupted your thoughts, and on instinct you slammed the phone into your pocket. Peter cocked at eyebrow in surprise and you let out a little gasp.

“Err, nothing, just, uh, texting my mum.”

“Oh yeah? About what? Plans for world domination?” He smiled at you, and it was so endearing that you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling back. Brown hair curled around his ears and he pushed his glasses further up his nose as he stared at you, making you laugh as he crossed his eyes and pulled a stupid face.

“Something like that,” you finally replied as the bell signalling the end of lunch rang through the cafeteria.

“Hey, what have you got next? Let me walk you to class.”

You were taken aback by Peter’s offer, and were half tempted to refuse him before you remembered how flustered he’d become over the mere mention of Spiderman. Maybe there was something there…

“Sure,” you said, dumping the remainder of your food in the bin. “Spanish, but I can’t speak a single word of it.”

“Ahh, it’s not that hard, sneak Google Translate in if you have to.”

“Didn’t peg you for a cheater, Parker.”

“Didn’t peg you for a Chemistry specialty, but here we are.”

You placed a hand over your heart, mock offended, and rolled your eyes. “You wound me. Only Spiderman can save me now.”

“I’m sure Spiderman would love to,” Peter replied, exaggerating the ‘love’ a little more than you liked.

“I hear he’s rumoured to be a high school student,” you wiggled your eyebrows, spotting your opportunity. Your little risk had been worth it though, because suddenly Peter looked like he’d been caught in headlights, and his entire body went rigid in shock.

“What?” he asked, panic lacing his voice.

“Oh you haven’t heard?” the faux innocence in your voice was annoying even you, but you bit your lip and got on with it, knowing this was the only way to get the information you needed. Stumbling upon these guys was a stroke of luck in your eyes, they seemed to know a hell of a lot about the webslinger. “Yeah, he’s rumoured to be a student here.”

“Yeah, no no, I heard that,” Peter shook himself a little, but started chewing on his lip. Your eyes were drawn to the way his teeth nibbled the skin, but you snapped out of your reverie as he waved a hand in your face. “Y/n?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” you smiled, hoping that would make you look less like an idiot. Jesus, you just needed to get on with the job.

“I just said, do you think you’ll be able to find your way to your class? I’ve just remembered I’ve gotta go…sort something out.”

“Oh, yeah, sure, of course,” you nodded, confused as to why Peter was suddenly running off. You hadn’t said anything that crazy, and you hoped you hadn’t offended him. But then again, so what if you had? It wasn’t like you were going to be here much longer anyway.

“Awesome, thanks!” Peter called over his shoulder, but it was pointless because he was already tearing off down the hallway.

You were smart enough to figure out wherever he was going was probably related to the person you were trying to kill, but following him felt…creepy. You’d just met this guy, and even though he may very well have been your best lead, it still felt wrong to tail him round the whole of New York. Instead, you made a mental note to run a background check as soon as you got in that evening, and tried to pretend yourself that you weren’t in the least bit interested in the results for anything other than work reasons.

***

It was late when you finally got to the warehouse Brenton had sent you to that night. You’d been meaning to leave well before eight, but your host family had insisted upon dinner, and it wasn’t like you could tell them you had to run an errand. You ended up getting there just past midnight, and you cursed yourself for not texting Brenton – what if the person delivering the package had gone home? What if they just hadn’t bothered?

You were dressed head to toe in the stealth suit that had been specially made for you, and you had to admit you absolutely loved it. You’d been expecting it to fit baggy in all the places it should’ve been tight, but whoever had made it clearly knew what they were doing – the carbon fibre fit snuggly and the vibranium swords strapped to your back were as light as they were deadly.

Sneaking into the warehouse, you shone your torch around the building, quickly realising it was abandoned. Whatever company used to operate here had long since packed up and left, but small traces of the operation still lingered with pieces of alien tech scattered around the floor.

“You’re late,” a gravelly voice said, and you spun to find the source. The beam from your torch landed on a figure hovering in the shadows, and you rolled your eyes at the theatre.

“Oh cut the dramatics. Code word.”

“Heretic,” the gravelly voice replied, confirming the code name you’d been told to expect “And you?”

“Huntress.”

The figure moved out of the shadows and clicked his fingers. Immediately, white light filled the echoing warehouse, lights flicking on everywhere, so bright you could see every cobweb. You covered your eyes on reflex, forgetting how vulnerable it made you, and blinked hard at the sudden change.

“I have some information for you,” Heretic said, and you crossed your arms in annoyance.

“I thought it was a package.”

“That too. But first: Spiderman knows you’re after him. Our sources say he found a hitman had been dispatched once he took down the Manhattan Chapter.”

“He’s probably expecting an old, white man. Doesn’t put me in any danger, he can’t see my face in this,” you shrugged, grateful for the inclusion of a mask in your suit.

“Do they train all the young recruits to be this cocky?” The man sighed, and you let out a hollow laughed.

“Only the bosses’ daughters.” You had plenty of this, the assumption that because you were a young lady you paled in comparison to what older men could accomplish. It was just the way The Circle was, but you were sick of constantly being underestimated. “Just give me the package.”

The man started digging around in his pockets and produced a small, crumpled packet of wrinkled brown paper. An ethereal, purple glow seeped out from the corners he’d failed to wrap, and you knew instantly what it was. You reached out to take it, but before you could, a line of sticky rope shot down from above you and snatched it from the man’s palm.

“That doesn’t belong to you,” a voice said.

Your head snapped upward, your hand flying to your sword as recognition switched on in your mind. Didn’t you know that voice from somewhere? Red and blue spandex swung from one of the lights, and the masked man was waving cheerily from his perch. Heretic started to run, not getting far before he was pinned against a wall in a fresh web, and you rolled your eyes – and he thought you’d been cocky.

“Actually, it does belong to me, and I’d like it back.” You turned your attention back to Spiderman, who let go of the light he swung from and dropped down to the floor, landing almost silently. He tossed the package lazily in his hand, his head cocked as though he had no idea of the power that tiny object held.

“I think you’ll find it belongs to the United States Government, but I’m sure they’d be willing to lend it to you if you ask nicely,” he shrugged, and you bared your teeth, thankful that you’d switched your voice modifier on well before you’d arrived. He, however, hadn’t, if he even had one, and the familiarity of the voice was starting to get on your nerves.

“I really don’t give a shit about semantics, give me back my package.”

“Why don’t you come and get it?” He dangled the challenge in front of you, waiting for you to take the bait, and even though every fibre in your body told you not to, pure instinct won over.

You started running towards him, leaping into the air and flipping yourself high over his head. As you arced over his body, your hand shot out to grab his mask, but he ducked at the last second and your fingers just grazed with the material. You hit the ground and slid along the concrete, looking up just in time to roll away from a web grenade.

“Come on, Spidey, you can do better than that,” you panted, wanting to hear him talk more. If he did, maybe you’d have a better chance at placing him.

He seemed frustrated by your comment, suddenly becoming a lot more energetic, and threw himself towards you. It was a mistake you’d been expecting, and within half a second you’d brought your knife out and thrown it towards his lunging body. The aim was crap, but it caught his side, and he hit the ground with a thud.

You started toward him, sword in hand to finish the job, a smirk on your face as you ran through everybody you’d met so far and their voices, desperate to figure out which one matched, when all of a sudden Spidey’s hand shot out from underneath him, and you were caught by a flying web that threw you back against the wall. Your head cracked against the concrete, and stars swam before your eyes, threatening to make you pass out as black tinged the edges of your vision.

“Is that good enough for you?” he asked, walking slowly towards you. He was clutching his side and you could just make out a river of blood dribbling from a wound you’d caused. “What’s your name?”

“Huntress,” you bit out, regaining your senses and starting to kick against the web fluid.

“I wouldn’t bother, that stuff won’t dissolve for another two hours,” he shrugged, collapsing to the floor. “Plenty of time to chit chat.”

“I don’t really want to engage in conversation thanks,” you hoped the acid was enough to throw him off guard, and he threw his hands up in defence.

“Hey, lady, you’re the one that tried to kill me, not the other way around.” When you didn’t respond, he continued. “I’d really like to know who’s under that mask.”

“Never gonna happen, this suit’s coded to only come apart when I voice activate it to.”

“Oh, I know, I figured that out as soon as I saw it. I was just musing.”

You stopped, mouth falling open in shock. This guy had just…seen your suit, and figured out how a multi million dollar piece of tech worked? Just like that? So he was smart. No wonder he went to Mid Town Tech.

“Look, I don’t have much longer, if I don’t get home I’ll get in soooooooo much trouble. But have a nice evening!” Spiderman started to get to his feet, the whole conversation feeling surreal to you, and you called out to him.

“Wait! Don’t think this will be the last you’ve heard of me!”

He shrugged in response, pulling the package out of a hidden pocket and turning it over in his hand. “Now that I believe.”

All at once, he was gone, swinging out of the warehouse and leaving you trapped in his web. You tried to wrestle one of your swords from your back, but it was impossible to even move your wrist. Grumbling in defeat, you let your head fall back against the wall and grimaced at the pain. This was all so ridiculous, he shouldn’t have even been able to touch you, let alone pin you up against a bloody wall. You’d let your guard slip because you thought his voice had sounded familiar, and you’d got excited that maybe you’d already run into him.

Next time, you wouldn’t be so stupid.

Taglist:

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#peter parker fanfiction #tom holland fanfiction #spider man fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland smut #peter parker smut

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my-arcanus · 7 years

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Playful fate part 4

Shivers were running down my spine. I was trying not to breathe but it was impossible to do that for a long time. The smell was not the worst. The most important thing was to not look down, inside the box I was carrying.

It was disgusting. But this one time I wanted to be the mean one. I wanted to retaliate.

Not like, it was weird that Efrem was horrible. It was completely normal. But even I had boundaries.

I could stand teasing, names, searching for my wand couple of times a day, finding snails in my bag, having frogs on my head... For a witch, it is not a traumatic experience.

But this time he went too far. He had known I was terrified of spiders. He had known that I didn’t like being in the centre of attention. He had known that I couldn’t forget any of my shameful moments. It didn’t stop him.

Maybe I had started it. After all, it has been me who replaced his shampoo with glue and threw glitter into his shower gel. His skin was still shiny.

But I still hadn’t deserved a punishment like that.

He had made a girl invite me to her party. It made me incredibly happy because people didn’t like my presence at events like that. They found me boring and I couldn’t stand their stupid games, which had destroyed so, so many lives.

So, the party had started surprisingly okay. I’d dances, drunk a little, talked and laughed with people. I was wearing my nicest clothes.

And then it had turned into a nightmare.

The lights had suddenly turned off. I’d felt something on my arm. I couldn’t recognise what that was. I’d heard people walking and murmuring. Someone had pushed me and I fell on the table. My hand had thrown the bowl full of drink upside down. My clothes hadn’t been nice anymore. I’d felt more tickling hair on my body. Then the lights had come back and I screamed.

I’d been covered in spiders. When I’d wanted to get up to take them off of me, I slipped on the wet floor. I couldn’t breathe, my sobs were loud. And they all laughed.

A witch afraid of spiders? Not possible. Stupid. Funny.

Then I’d found him in the crowd with his shiny face. Aconite had pushed him to get to me.

I shook my head to clear it. I didn’t want to remember that. It was enough that other party participants didn’t let me forget. Yes, it had been so hilarious.

It was my turn to laugh.

I’d thought about different ways of vengeance. Throwing a spell would be too easy, spiders wouldn’t work on him, he could easily clean his things from snails or slimes. And I’d already showered him in glitter.

As I was full of weaknesses, he had one that I could use.

He was always proud of his look. He wanted to be seen as a handsome, powerful and intelligent hero. And he was scared of needles. Specifically, of the idea of something drawing blood from him. And I was about to use that to my advantage.

That’s why I was carrying a box full of leeches. No, no, no. Those were not everyday leeches. Mine were drinking blood and at the same time filling their prey with their poisonous saliva. They couldn’t kill sorcerers, but they did paralyse them. And they were bigger than normal leeches. They also left marks on the body of their victim, which could bleed for the next couple days. Of course, after you finally manage to take them off.

I was planning to throw them on Efrem from above when he had PE. I’d ditched my classes about the magic of elements, but it was definitely worth it. At least, I thought so.

I could already see his terrified face in my imagination, hear his delightful screams, beheld the end of big and mighty Efrem who wasn’t afraid of anything. I even managed to smile.

Then I turned around the corner and bumped into someone. I fell on my butt — from what I heard the other person had too — the box, fell out off my hands.

And there went my perfect plan! I raised my head in anger, ready to snap at the person. And then I heard a shriek full of panic.

Efrem was laying down on the floor, his body thrashing around, his arms slapping every inch of his body, trying to get rid of the leeches, screeching all this time. I hadn’t expected that he could make a sound like that.

Suddenly, my breath was taken away from me. The world started spinning. Efrem’s voice was muffled. And I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

I felt bad for what I did. I shouldn’t have done that. I acted the same way as he had. I should help him because he was scared.

Then our eyes met and he stopped thrashing around. I saw shock and fear in his eyes. I found there my reflection looking back at me, looking as confused as he was.

And then something clicked into its place. And in his blue eyes... His blue eyes were changing. Golden spots appeared in them.

We didn’t even have to look at our hands.

We already knew what we would find there, on our fingers.

And this is how I recognised my fated one.

#My writing #write #story #short story #Magic #fantasy #sorcerer #witch #fate #playful fate

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