Requested by americanarse: Can you do a one-shot based off of Lewis Capaldi's 'Lost on you' where Y/N used to be an assassin. She's haunted by her past and has red in her ledger, and feels like Peter's love is too good and pure for her.

I drove my foot into the man's chest, a cry leaving his lips as he fell to the floor.

"Please, stop! I have a family, please!" He exclaimed as he scrambled back on the floor of the hallway, but I didn't listen as I walked after him and pulled my gun out of the holster that was attached to my leg.

"Must be nice. I'm only here to do a job, it's nothing personal." I shook my head as I loaded the magazine into the gun before cocking it.

"I don't even know what I did! Please, I'm an innocent man!" He yelled. I looked at him.

"You can't be that innocent if you made yourself enemies from the red room." I scoffed and shook my head. His eyes widened.

"That's why you're here?! I was a young guy when I got involved in that, that was twenty years ago! That was probably before you were even born! Please!" He cried.

"I have to do my job. You clearly know the red room, so you know what'll happen to me if I don't kill you. Any last words?" I asked as I raised my gun.

"Please! I have a-." I pulled the trigger, the man's head flying back as the bullet soared through it. His body collapsed against the hardwood floors, making me sigh as I put my gun back into my holster. I held my finger to the comms device in my ear.

"HQ, target is terminated, I repeat, successful termination-."

"Daddy?" My eyes widened, my breath hitching in my throat as I heard the small voice. I gulped harshly, tears pricking my eyes and my heart plummeting to my feet as I didn't even have to turn around to know what this was. To know what I'd have to do. I looked over my shoulder, a tear running down my face as my suspicions were confirmed. Normally this job didn't affect me in the slightest, I had been trained to be stone-cold and emotionless, and I could be. Well, I could be...until it came to kids. The little girl stared up at me, her plush dog toy hugged in her arms as she looked up at me with innocent doe eyes.

"H-hey there, sweetie." I smiled fakely as I desperately tried not to let my voice crack.

"Where's my daddy?" The girl asked quietly. I gulped and turned to face her, making sure that my body obscured her view of her now dead father as I walked towards her.

"H-he, um, he's gone away for a little bit, but that's okay, because you're going to join him." I nodded as I crouched down in front of her and gently put my hand on her shoulder. I was desperately trying not to cry at the situation, my heart racing in my chest as I knew what I'd have to do. But I had to do it. The number-one rule of the red room was that you didn't leave witnesses, not even children. And so, it would tear me up inside, but I couldn't let this little girl live.

"I want to go with my daddy." She nodded. I returned it and forced a smile onto my lips, my entire body screaming in emotional pain at what I was about to do.

"You will do, honey. I promise." I whispered before tightly hugging her. She returned it, making me squeeze my eyes shut as I subtly pulled my gun out of the holster. I took deep breaths, my heart almost bursting out of my chest with how harshly it was pounding as I raised it and put it to the back of her head. And then, I pulled the trigger.

I gasped as I shot up, my eyes flying open as I got violently pulled out of the nightmare. I gulped harshly and looked down, my palm pressing to my chest as my heart pounded through my skin. I took deep breaths, my body cold and shaking in anxiety as I tried to calm myself down. After a few moments, my body started to calm down, making me sigh as my gaze finally moved back up again. The nightmare that I had just had wasn't a rare occurrence, especially given the fact that it wasn't even a nightmare. It was a memory. A memory from my life as an assassin, the one that I had left five years ago, when I had been arrested and then recruited by the Avengers. Originally the plan had been to kill me given how dangerous I was, and Spider-Man had been sent to do it. Peter Parker had been sent to do it. He had intervened on a mission where I had been sent to kill the son of a Russian diplomat who had gotten on the wrong side of the red room leaders. I had never completed the mission. Peter had intervened and we had fought, him winning effortlessly despite my years of training and perfect track record, and him pinning me down within minutes. My life had flashed before my eyes, not that there was much to see. Mainly, it was just sadness. Sadness that I had been robbed of a normal life, sadness that I'd never meet the love of my life, would never have children, would never get to live like a normal, non-lethal weapon. But then something strange had happened. Peter's eyes had gone from the piercing red dots...back to the white spaces. He deactivated instant kill. Instead of killing me, he had given me another chance and had taken me into the Avengers, where I was rehabilitated and re-trained within months. Within those months was also when Peter and I had fallen hard for each other. Of course he'd had his mask on when he had apprehended me, and so I hadn't known that I'd been looking at the love of my life until the first time that he'd come to see me in normal clothes in my cell. From the second that I had seen him, I had known that I would marry him. There was nothing that I didn't love about the boy, everything from his innocent kindness, his incredible brains and stunning looks drawing me in immediately. But there was always something underneath the surface. My smile dipped, tears pricking my eyes as I looked to my side. Peter was still asleep next to me, my boyfriend's curls messy and his thin lips slightly parted as he quietly snored. I gulped harshly. As much as I loved Peter, and always would, he felt too good for my love. As an assassin, I had been taught to go numb, to block out all emotion that would stop me from terminating a target, and that training that was so deeply entrenched in me ruined my perceptions of love. Which ruined it for Peter too. Of course if I were to ever ask him, he would always insist that I did love him and that there was nothing wrong with how I showed it, but my love would always feel too dirty, too impure for a boy whose love was the exact opposite. My memories coming back in my sleep always reminded me of this stark difference, and always broke me when they did. I pulled the covers back and stood from the bed, being careful not to wake my sleeping boyfriend as I padded to the door. It silently slid open, allowing me to walk out into the corridor and along to the living room that we shared with the rest of the team. It wasn't rare for me to be woken up by nightmares created by my trauma, and so it was normal for me to come out here and just look over the lit-up city of New York so that I'd eventually be able to get back to sleep. And so, that was what I'd do. I sat down on the carpeted floor by the floor-to-ceiling windows and gently rested my forehead against the cool glass. I hated questioning my love for Peter, I hated having the ability to tell myself that I wasn't good enough for him, but I had to live with that. Of course my amazing boyfriend would always reassure me otherwise once I told him, but at two a.m., when I was alone with my thoughts, it was hard to reassure myself that my past didn't matter with Peter, and it certainly didn't affect my love for him. And yet...

"What are you doing up?" I looked up, my heart skipping a beat as Peter quietly padded into the room in only his low-hanging sweatpants.

"Nightmare. Nothing new." I shrugged nonchalantly. Peter sighed and gave me a sympathetic smile before sitting down opposite me so that our knees were touching. I looked back out of the window as his hand landed gently on my knee. I could see out of my peripheral vision that he was trying to catch my gaze, but I was making a point of refusing to give it to him.

"Is there anything that you need to ask me, baby? Anything that you need to talk about?" He asked quietly. I bit my lip, tears pricking my eyes and my stomach twisting in numbness. I hated how well he knew me sometimes. I hated how well he knew me, because that meant that I knew him equally as well, which meant that I could hurt him so fucking much. And that was the last thing that I ever wanted to do. I eventually forced myself to look at him, Peter's face softening as the tears rolled down my face.

"Angel." He sighed and shook his head as his hand raised to gently wipe away some of the tears that had fallen. He knew what I was going to say, and I knew what he'd say to reassure me, after all, we did this routine every time that I started to doubt myself. And yet, every time, it still worked. Well, until the next time, that was

 "Why do you love me, Pete? Why do you love me when I can't take the weight of your love?" I choked and shook my head.

"I love you because you can take the weight of it. I know that you believe that you can't, I know that you've always had a really hard time letting me love you, and letting yourself love me, and that's okay. It's okay because I know that your past haunts you. Hell, some of mine does, I was sent to kill you for fucks' sake." He scoffed.

"Okay, but you didn't kill me, Peter. That's the difference between us. I killed so many people just because they went against the red room, I-I killed a fucking child because she witnessed me killing her father seconds before. I'm a fucking monster, and I can never help but think that you'll be safer in someone else's arms. I'm too fucking damaged, too broken to not be a slave to my past." I sobbed, my heart feeling completely fucking numb because of the weight of my trauma. Peter could love me all that he wanted, he could help and give me everything that he could offer, but I lived terrified from day to day that my past would never let me go, that my ledger would always be red. That Peter would always be too good for my love. Peter sighed and looked at me, his own eyes becoming glossy as they flicked over my face. He stood up, making my eyebrows furrow as I followed him with my gaze.

"W-what are you doing?" I gulped as he gently took my bicep and pulled me forward before sitting down on the floor behind me so that his legs were on either side of me.

"I'm showing you that you're safe in my arms, and that I'm safe in yours too." He spoke softly, making me choke as he gently pulled me back against his chest so that my head rested on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me. I continued to silently cry in his grasp, the loving boy who I would always be convinced was too good for me pressing soft kisses to my head and whispering sweet nothings into my ear as he helped calm me down.

"I know that your past haunts you, baby, and that's completely normal, you're only human. But it does not make you incapable of love. It doesn't make you incapable of loving me. I know that you think that I'm too kind, too selfless, too pure to be loved by you, but I'm not. Your love does nothing but add to me, and make me whole. Your love is everything to me, angel. It doesn't matter to me that five years ago, you'd been taught to feel nothing at all in order to make you the perfect weapon. It doesn't matter to me that you killed people, or that your ledger is red, because I know that it wasn't your fault, and you'd take it back if you could. I know all of that, babe, and I know that you do too, but I do understand why it's hard to convince yourself of that at times. But that's why I'm here. And that's why I'll always be here." He promised, his lips continuing to press to my hair as his gentle heartbeat soothed me. I bit my lip and let my body sink into his, feeling starting to creep in again at the warmth and love that was radiating from my perfect boyfriend.

"What if I can never move past it, Pete? What if I'm always a slave to my past?" I whispered.

"Then that's okay, and we work with it. But I truly believe that you will overcome this, in your own time. You're so fucking strong, baby, all you need is to take it at your own pace. And I'll be here for all of it. Doesn't matter if it takes another week, another month, another year or another ten, I'm not leaving your side. I'm here until the end." He reassured. I couldn't help but smile tiredly at his words, tears of happiness starting to leave my eyes at the sentiment. At the fact that no matter how bad I got, no matter how many times I'd doubt my love for Peter, he'd never turn his back on me. And that meant the world to me.

"I love you, Peter. So fucking much. And I can never thank you enough for loving me back." I choked and shook my head against his shoulder.

"I love you so much too, angel. But you don't have to thank me. Loving you is the best thing that I'll ever do." he returned. I smiled and bit my lip, my eyes starting to flutter with tiredness as I sunk further into Peter's arms. He kept kissing my head as his arms locked more solidly around my body, the boy clearly being able to tell that I was falling asleep. But that was okay because I knew that I was safe with him. I knew that he loved me, and that I loved him. Even if I forgot it sometimes. Even if my past made me question it, and want him to leave for his own sake. He never would. And that was why I would never stop loving him. Even if I wanted to.