Irondad and Spiderson One-Shots (Requests Open!)

Just Another Day

Sighing as he finally entered his apartment, Peter let himself relax. Work was tiring as always, in his profession, there was never a day where he could sit back and relax. He took off his clothes, wincing as he felt his sore muscles. He wanted to do nothing more than take a shower and sleep forever but he always had a routine that helped him relax and let the worries from today drift away as he slowly forgot about them. Once he took off his clothes he put them in the wash and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. As soon as the warm water touched his skin when he pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower his tense muscles relaxed and he instantly felt calmer.

He took his time washing his hair and body but once he was done, he stepped out of the shower and changed into comfy clothes. Peter went to his kitchen and took out a plate of food from yesterday's leftover dinner and put it in the microwave to heat up. While he waited he turned on the tv and put on the news. Once Peter heard the microwave beep he took out the food and set it down on the kitchen counter so the plate could cool down a bit. He took out a fork from the kitchen drawer and a glass cup from the cabinet and filled it with water. He held both the plate and cup of water and walked towards his living room where the tv was on, showing a news story about a group of murders that just happened. He sat on the couch and started to eat his food.

Looking to his left where his front door is, Peter saw his bag. He got up to get it and sat back down on his couch, still listening to the news story. Apparently, it was the brutalist murder scene they had seen in many years, even in New York. He took out a blank envelope and began counting the contents inside. Peter didn't even know why he was bothering to pay attention to the news story of the murders.

He was there. He remembered the sight of the Avengers blood as it poured down their necks from the slash of his knife. He remembered the sound of the thuds as each Avengers fell down one by one, dead. He remembered the sight of the blood pooling on the floor as their bodies lay on the ground, unmoving. He remembered, writing on the wall 'you're next' in their blood. He remembered because he was paid to do exactly that.

He was paid, to make sure the cops would find the body's. He was paid, to make sure each Avenger suffered. He internally laughed at how easy it was to gain their trust. Using common sense he knew that it would never be connected back to him, he made sure of that. His bloodied clothes were already in the wash. The blood that managed to get on his skin and hair washed away as he poured the shampoo on his hair and washed it off, the same for the rest of his body.

He was known as the sweet high school boy, who was always too shy to speak out or show how intelligent he was. He 'would never be able to hurt a fly'. He created his persona as a person who would be the opposite of what a murderer for hire should be. But in reality, he was cruel, he knew where to drive his knife into somebody, and he knew where in the body could cause the most pain. After all, the envelope of 10 million dollars in cash that rested in his hands was proof of his skill. After all, who would suspect him?

A/N: This was my attempt at a Halloween fic. How did I do?

I hope you have a safe and wonderful Halloween!