Prophet || Peter Parker x Reader

15 || Hope For The Future

Hope for the future

It will belong to us

If we believe

If we believe

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I walk home from the drug store, the bag swinging in my hands. I smile to myself, happy that Ned was going to ask Betty to the dance.

It's obvious that she likes him and I'm glad he likes her, too. At least she has a date.

I'm not too worried about anyone asking me. MJ and I had planned on Betty getting asked out and we were going to go together as friends if neither one of us were asked.

I'm thinking about MJ and Betty and Ned and school dances when head hurts suddenly and I shut my eyes, stopping in place on the sidewalk.

A flash of red hair.

Apartment 7D.

Avengers.

Avengers.

Avengers.

I open my eyes, so many thoughts swirling in my head. I don't usually get visions; it's probably the part of my power that I use the least because I can't control it, but when I do get them they are often vague, meaning I have to figure them out for myself.

Apartment 7D was where I live, but my mother won't be home for hours and she doesn't have red hair either, which leaves me with one solution: Someone with red hair is in my apartment waiting for me.

But what did this have to do with The Avengers? Sure, I remember their little stunt in 2012, and I remember seeing them on the news, and of course Spiderman had mentioned them to me - well, he mentioned Tony Stark - but why would they pop up now?

Nervously, I make my way up the stairs in my apartment complex, keeping my hands balled into fists at my sides, ready to fight whoever was waiting for me.

I unlock the door as quietly as possible and walk inside, my heart beating faster than ever. As the figure comes into view, my heart continues to beat loudly in my ear.

The figure - obviously a woman - stands facing the window and away from me so I can only see her back. Below a blue baseball cap is long, red hair and I know she's the woman I saw in my vision.

"Can I help you?" I ask daringly, and the woman turns around. To my surprise, she doesn't seem as threatening as I thought she would. She's wearing sunglasses so I can't get a good look at her eyes and I can tell that with the hat and the glasses that she's being as discreet as possible.

"You're Y/N, right?" She asks, and her casual tone confuses me.

"Uh...yes," I say cautiously, looking around. "Why are you in my house?"

"My name is Natasha Romanoff," She says, coming closer to me. She takes her sunglasses off, revealing blue-green eyes. She doesn't seem like such a threat, so I unball my fists and shake her outreached hand. "I am a member of S.H.I.E.L.D. and one of the Avengers."

"You're an Avenger?" I ask. She nods, giving me a small smile. "But you still haven't answered my question."

"Y/N, I know you're Prophet." She says, and I can feel my heart drop to my stomach in fear.

"What? What are you talking about?" I ask, trying to be calm as I lie straight to an Avenger.

"Please, Y/N, don't do that. We both know you're kidding yourself." She says, and though the words sound as if they'd be condescending, her tone says otherwise.

"I'm not Prophet!" I lie, though we both know I am. Natasha sighs.

"This isn't you?" She asks, pulling up a photograph of me in the Prophet suit, with my goggles on the top of my head instead of covering my eyes. I sigh, mentally kicking myself for not looking out for security cameras.

"Okay, yeah, it's me," I say finally. Natasha smiles victoriously, sticking the device back in her pocket.

"Great, now that we're past that, I've come here to ask you if you would help us."

I blink. "I'm sorry, when you say 'us' do you mean-"

"-The Avengers, yes."

"You want my help."

"That's right."

I stare at her, dumbstruck. "Why?"

"You remember your little run in with the man and that weapon?" She says, and I nod, painfully thinking about the cut it left me with. "Well, we think that man has something to do with HYDRA."

"HYDRA?" I repeat. "Like those Nazi people?" Natasha nods. "I thought they were all gone."

"We thought so, too," She sighs. "But they're not, and these weapons are really dangerous. In the wrong hands..." She trails off, and the silence frightens me.

"Ms. Romanoff, it's really great that you want my help, but I don't know if I can. I mean, I just became Prophet. I'm not really sure if you want an amateur teenage superhero on your team."

"But we do," She insists. "Y/N, with the right training, you could be an asset to the Avengers."

"Training?"

"We would train you. You don't think we're just going to send you off on a mission, do you?" She asks, and I blink, not wanting to admit that was exactly what I thought. She sighs again. "Look, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do, but if you want to, Tony Stark and I will be waiting for you tomorrow at four p.m. sharp at Stark Towers." She passes me a slip of paper with an address and a time as she makes her way to the door.

She puts her hand on the knob and twists it around before pausing. "I wouldn't pass this up, Y/N. Trust me."

And just as quickly as she came, she's gone.

I sit on the couch, thinking about the conversation I just had with Natasha. Could I be an Avenger? Is that even possible?

I try to think about an entire life of being Prophet, but I'm not sure if that's what I want.

But The Avengers need my help, and there is no way that I can pass up an opportunity like that.