Avengers Imagines (Part One)

Peter Parker X Reader - Hand in my Pocket

A/N - This chapter is based on a set of lyrics from the song 'Hand in my Pocket' by Alanis Morissette.("I feel drunk but I'm sober, I'm young and I'm underpaid. I'm tired but I'm working, yeah, I care but I'm restless, I'm here but I'm really gone. I'm wrong and I'm sorry baby.") Peter and Reader are both in their twenties in this chapter. I hope you all enjoy it.

Shit. Of course, the one morning that you slept through your alarm was going to be the same morning that the metro decided it would become one of the most inconsistent ways of travelling known to mankind. You had told your friends that drinking when you had to be up for a shift the next day would be a mistake, but they had dismissed you with little effort. It'll be fine. Just one more drink. Fuck, you could still smell the stale beer on your breath. Or wait, was that coming from your hair. God, you knew you should have had a shower before you collapsed into bed.

You were practically running as you made your way out of the station, dodging between people as you headed towards the diner. Your boss would be mad, not that it made much difference. He was mad when you were early, he was mad when you were on time, there was no doubting that he would be mad now, even if you were only technically twenty minutes late. 

The door of the diner was already in sight when you'd run straight into someone, stumbling back a few steps and sending them a small grimace. God, if you weren't so late you might have stuck around to apologise properly. He was one of the prettiest men you had ever seen. But alas, you were in a rush. "Sorry," you called out before continuing on your way, glancing back at him for just a second before you ducked through the door and into work.

"You're late," your boss uttered, the moment you stepped over the threshold, and all memory of the handsome stranger was torn from your mind.

"My alarm didn't go off this morning. It won't happen again-"

"It better not or you won't have a job to be waking up for." He marched away at that, heading into the kitchen with a scowl permanently painted on his face.

You released a soft sigh as you moved through the diner, taking a deep shaking breath the moment you were in the safety of the staff room. You glanced at yourself in the mirror, surveying the bags under your eyes and the frown that had etched itself onto your lips. You forced a smile onto your lips, still keeping eye contact with the mirror as you tied on your apron. "I'm not paid enough for this," you murmured, your smile dropping again.

The door swung open then, and Cathy came striding in with a wide smile. "You look like shit."

"Wow," you chuckled, shaking your head at her. "It's lovely to see you too."

"I thought you said you weren't going out last night," she continued. "We decided we were both going to grow a backbone and set boundaries for ourselves. I can't have a backbone on my own."

You groaned, turning to face her properly. "I tried, I really did, but they were so insistent," you told her. "If it's any conciliation, I feel like my brain is made of soup, and it's just slowly oozing out of my ears."

Cathy's eyes widened slightly at your comment. "Gross," she uttered, patting your shoulder lightly. "You're going to have to power through, so shove that soup back in and lets get out on the floor." 

She was gone a moment later, leaving you stood in silence for just a second before you followed her out into the dining room, your fake smile back at full force. You moved over to your only filled table, a man sitting on his own, and pulled out your notepad. "Hi, My names Y/N and I'll be your server today. Can I get you started with a drink?" 

As soon as the man glanced up at you, your smile dropped from your lips, your mouth hanging open in shock. Of course, the one person you had managed to collide with had decided to sit himself at one of your booths. "Hi," he started, giving you a wide smile. "I'll just take a vanilla milkshake."

"Of course," you murmured, forcing your smile back onto your face before hurrying over to the counter to request his drink. Cathy chuckled when she noticed the look of pure horror on your face. 

"He's cute, huh?" she started, taking the pad from you and getting on with making the drink. "That's why I put him in your section." 

"I literally ran into him outside. You putting him in my section is the worst thing you have ever done to me." 

She chuckled as she placed the drink on the counter between you. "Maybe he followed you inside," she teased, watching as you rolled your eyes.

"Oh yay," you cried as quietly as possible. "You might have seated a stalker in one of my booths."

You took the drink, heading back towards the table and the mysterious man. As you placed it down he offered you a small smile. "I promise I'm not a stalker," he uttered, punctuating his words with a sip from the milkshake. 

"Huh?"

"I heard what you said to your friend. I didn't follow you in here. I just, I was looking for somewhere to eat, and then I saw this place and-"

You cleared your throat, straightening your skirt slightly. "It's alright. I was just kidding, I didn't really think you would-" you paused for a second. "Sorry."

He nodded slightly, "I'm Peter, by the way," he started softly. "I thought it was only fair that you know my name too." 

A real smile pulled at your lips then. "Well then. Can I get you anything to eat, Peter?" 

He glanced down at the menu, his eyes drifting for a moment before he looked back up at you. "What would you recommend?" 

You took the menu from him, drawing it towards you. "The chocolate chip pancakes are pretty good," you told him, tapping on the item on the menu. 

"Then, I'll have those." 

"Perfect," you uttered. "I'll have those out for you in just a little while." 

You spent most of the next ten minuted standing with Cathy, watching Peter as covertly as possible. He looked pretty content, tapping away at his phone. 

"I bet he's telling his friends all about his hot waitress," Cathy uttered, leaning on the counter beside you with a wide smile. "'God, this girl is a hot mess. Just my type'" she teased in a terrible impersonation of his voice.

You chuckled slightly. "You're such a dick," you murmured, dragging your attention away from Peter. "He seemed nice," you added. 

"Then ask him out."

You snorted at her comment. "I'm not sure I should be asking out my customers." 

She shrugged slightly. "Well, the moment you looked away from him he started looking at you, and he hasn't stopped yet." Your head turned to look at him, causing him to flinch away the moment your eyes locked. "He'll say yes. Just give him your number."

A small sigh slipped out of your lips, and you nodded. "Yeah, fine." The bell in the kitchen chimed, and you quickly gathered up Peter's plate, taking it over to him. "So, my friend thinks you might have a little crush on me," you told him, placing the plate in front of him and perching on the other side of the booth. "And she thinks I should give you my number. But I just wanted to check you weren't married with kids or something before I committed to doing that."

Peter smiled at your comment. "No wife. No kids," he told you softly, sliding his phone across the table for you to enter your number. "And I would be very happy if you gave me your number."

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