I hope you enjoy this lil book.

Cause I do

-Y/N POV-

My hands were shaking over Peter's beaten up body.

I had to calm myself down.

-flashback-

I had always been more on the serious side of the friendship. I had always been more responsible letting Peter be carefree. He would visit me when he was in need of stitching up late at night.

Which, was a lot of the time. He was 17 now, as was I, but he was always carefree in battle. I never saw him battle, no never, I basically was just only his nurse, and best friend. I liked the sidelines fine.

Peter was a scrawny boy, so I'm betting good money that he was always on the tougher end of fights. He showed me the videos he got of fighting Captain America.

I always cringe when he gets thrown around by him. It makes me want to punch the first Avenger in his dumb face.

I would probably break my knuckle trying, so I better not.

I could probably get Mr. Stark to do it.

Yeah, I'd like that.

In the end Mr. Stark, better known as the Ironman, ended up doing me justice. He offered me a job with the Avengers.

I denied it of course. I liked staying behind.

-end of flashback-

Tonight, I wished it had taken Mr. Starks offer.

I was in my apartment, with a bloody Peter thrown across my bed.

He was staining my perfectly white bedsheets red, with his blood loss.

I'd have to explain to my mum later.

When he crawled through my window, after being polite and knocking on it. Even though he was almost dead from blood loss, the kid never forgot his manners.

He smiled at me when I lifted up the windowsill. It was around midnight, the moonlight being my source of light.

His red and blue suit was tattered. Huge scratches across it revealed why he was spilling blood. When he smiled, his teeth were stained red.

He must've spit up blood. He's in horrible condition.

"How the hell did this happen Peter?"

I asked frantically, as I threw his arm around my shoulder, and practically carried him to me bed.

The blood loss was affecting him. I needed to close his wounds, and call 911. This was beyond me. I rushed into my bathroom and grabbed my large first aid kit. I had learned my lesson by having a tiny one and trying to treat his wounds.

"Uh, got in a pretty bad tangle with this guy... what was his name?"

His voice slurred, he sounded drunk. I ran back into the room with my first aid kit. I slung it onto my bed and popped it open.

I first took out a pair of shears and sliced his suit.

I'd apologize to Mr. Stark later. This was serious.

I got a good look at his chest, he was super toned for a scrawny 17 year old. Had a perfect 6 pack that had a huge gash ruining it.

I disinfected the wound and around it, and took out my needle and started stitching him up.

As I finished the first of three gashes, my hands were shaking.

"Why are you scared?"

Peter joked, coughing. Probably up some blood.

That's when I lost it. My hands started shaking worse, my body trembling as I released a sob.

"It's because I can't stand losing you!"

I sobbed. I cared for this boy. He was my best friend. I couldn't just let him die.

I continued stitching him up through my clouded vision.

Peter smiled at me. His teeth stained red, his brown eyes full of fear, but staying stroking for me. And his hair messily sweeps back as sweat rolled down his forehead.

I finished stitching up the third gash. I stood up from the bed, walked to my dresser and threw him one of my shirts. It was a Hello Kitty I had.

He couldn't slip it on. I walked over there and helped him put it on.

"Thanks."

He breathed out.

I walked towards my phone.

"What are you doing?"

He asked, as he traced his finger along my stitches, wincing when he made contact.

"Calling 911 Pete, I don't have any medical-"

I was cut off by the sound of sobbing.

I wasn't my own.

It was Peter's.

"Please."

He sobbed.

"I don't wanna go there. Please."

He pleaded to me.

I sat down on the bed next to him. Leaving my phone on my desk.

I forgot one important thing.

He hated hospitals because he had lost so many people there.

His parents.

Uncle Ben.

"Okay."

I said as I payed down next to him and hugged him.

"Thank you."

He said. He leaned over to me, despise his stitches.

And kissed me.

His lips tasted salty, from his tears. And like iron, from his blood.

"I love you Y/N."

Peter told me as he cuddled closer next to me.

"I love you too Peter."

Boom. First chapter. Requests are open!