back scrub brush

anonymous asked:

Can I get a Valentine's Day peter Parker x reader please???

Peter Parker X Reader –  Don’t Tell

A/N – For me, this works best with Tom Holland (Avengers Spiderman) but an older version of Aunt May & Uncle Ben (like in the original trilogy.)

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Based off this imagine by @thefandomimagine


Originally posted by guywiththeguitar

High school is an unusual society where the students follow unspoken rules and the teachers let them in order to maintain an easier, quieter life. The rules are simple enough: stay within your group, don’t become the teacher’s pet, keep fights within your year, and above all, never tell on another student.

Unfortunately, that last rule came with its own consequences for you on a Friday before school let out. Toby Garfield had accidentally broken one of the windows for all the students to see but since nobody, including yourself, was willing to tell the teacher, Mr Maguire, you were blamed for being the closest to the scene of the crime. It meant that after school, you had been given glamourous job of scrubbing graffiti off the walls; you had even been given the janitor’s keys to put the cleaning supplies away afterwards.

After an hour and a half of scrubbing, you checked your watch yet again, sure that it must finally be time for you to go home. When you saw it wasn’t, you were sure time must be passing agonisingly slow just to taunt you.

“That’s it.” You growled irritably, throwing the scrubbing brush back into the bucket and inadvertently soaking yourself with water. “No more. There’s nobody here. I’m going home.”

You continued to chunter to yourself down the hallway until you reached the supply closet where you grew even more frustrated as it refused to unlock.

“OH, COME ON!” You exploded angrily.

“Hello?” A muffled voice sounded from inside the closet.

You frowned at the door, puzzled. “Hi?”

“Hey um, I’m kind of trapped in here, do you think you could let me out?”

“Oh!” You burst into action, trying again to unlock it. The door remained stubbornly shut, even when you leant against it with all your might. “Door’s jammed.” You grunted, pushing harder.

“Yeah… Flash dented the lock so I wouldn’t get out.”

“Flash? As in Flash Thompson? Why would he- Hang on, you’re not that guy are you? The one he always picks on? What was it? P- P- P- Percy? No, uh-”

“It’s Peter actually.”

“Right, Peter, sorry about that. This is (Y/N) by the way, if you know me that is.”

“Yeah, we’re in most classes together.”

“We are? My bad, I don’t pay much attention. Well, when this is over I’m gonna kill Flash. Okay, move back from the door, I have an idea.”

Peter moved as far back as he could in the tiny supply closet, waiting for your master plan. There was a loud thud against the door, followed by a pained groan.

“H-hey, are you alright?” Peter fretted.

“That was… That was a stupid plan.” You cringed. “New plan. I’m going to get some of the tools from workshop. Sit tight Peter, I’ll be right back.”

Peter sat down, leaning against the wall as he had before you came along. He debated what he’d tell Aunt May and Uncle Ben this time, after all, there would be no explaining the- Loud scraping of metal on metal interrupted his thoughts.

“You’re back.” He declared happily.

“Uh-huh.” You answered distractedly, attacking the door hinges with a screwdriver and hammer. It took just under half an hour of hacking inexpertly at the tight metal before you managed to remove the hinges completely. You grabbed the door quickly, easing it to the floor to let Peter out.

“Done.” You panted tiredly, staring at the mess you’d made.

“Thank you, I’m sorry I put you through so much trouble.”

“It’s no big deal, I’m just glad-” You turned to Peter, “Good God man.” You stated, appalled at the sight before you.

Peter’s face was covered in cuts and bruises, his left eye was swollen and purple, and there was dried blood, which had made its way from his nose to his shirt.

“Did Flash and his gang do this to you?” You whispered incredulously.

“Uh yeah, sorry.” Peter apologised, hating the worry on your face. “It’s fine really. I’m sure Flash just has his own troubles and-”

“No. This isn’t okay so don’t go acting like it is. Come on, we have to get you cleaned up before your cuts get infected or something.”


“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Peter questioned apprehensively as you tried each key on the bunch for the nurse’s office. “Isn’t this breaking the rules?”

“Peter, I just broke down a door, I think this is acceptable.” You pushed the door open. “Now sit down, I need to get a cloth.”

Peter perched on the edge of a bed while you rifled through some drawers, “Cloths are in the second drawer and saline solution is in the cupboard on your right.” he explained.

“I’m guessing you spend a lot of time in here.” You got the items, moving back to him.

“A little more than I should.”

You prepared the solution on the cloth, “This may sting a little.”

You dabbed his face gently, clearing away the blood where you could. Peter sat silently, suddenly bashful at your proximity.

“So, where do you live anyway?” You asked while you worked.

“What? Uh, w-why?”

“It’s late, I don’t want you walking home alone in the dark.”

“What about you? If you walked me home, who would walk you home?”

“Look, just tell me where you live, who knows? It may be right next to me but I won’t know until you tell me.”

“I live in Forest Hills but you don’t have to-”

“No way, I live in the street around the corner.” You lied, doing whatever it took to get Peter home.

“Really?” Peter lit up excitedly.

“Yeah, come on, I think I’ve done all I can here. I’ll lock up and we can go.”

“Uh (Y/N), what about the supply room door?”

“What the principal doesn’t know can’t hurt us, he’ll probably just assume it was just some vandal; God knows the school’s full of ‘em. Now let’s go, it’s bad enough walking through New York in the day, it’s even worse at night and I don’t know about you but I don’t have any bus money so I’d rather set off now.”


“Where could he have got to May?” Ben Parker paced restlessly around his living room, waiting for the phone to ring.

“Ben-” May started, looking through the net curtains.

“I should be out there looking for him.”

“Ben-”

“It’s been hours now.”

“Ben!” May raised her voice slightly, startling her husband. She smiled serenely, “Peter’s outside and it looks like he’s brought a friend.”

“What?” Ben joined his wife at the window. Peter’s back was facing the pair but they could just see you in front of him.

“Do you think he’s been out on a date?” May gushed ecstatically.

“Now May, it could just be a friend.”

“Either way, our little Peter hasn’t brought many people over before.”

“What do you suppose they’re talking about out there?”

“I don’t know, oh let’s invite them in, I’d love to meet Peter’s new friend.”

“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” Ben asked a little too late, May was already heading towards the door.

She threw it open enthusiastically, “Peter dear, welcome home. Come now, why don’t you introduce us to your friend?”

Peter blushed awkwardly, “A-aunt May-” he stuttered.

You looked behind Peter to see his aunt and uncle in the doorway. They motioned you inside, “Come now dear, no need to be shy.” May cooed at you.

“Sorry about this.” Peter whispered, nervous that you would hate his family and think him a loser. In truth, he loved his family more than anything so if you disliked them he knew he wouldn’t have anything to do with you from then on.

You walked past Peter to the front door, “Hello, I’m (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You stuck your hand out which Ben shook amiably.

“Please dear, come inside, we’d love to hear how you know our Peter.” May beamed.

“Oh, um- I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“Nonsense, it wouldn’t be a bother.”

“Uh, well I suppose, if Peter doesn’t mind.”

Peter finally joined you, “No, not at-”

His aunt gasped, “Oh my, Peter what happened to your face? It wasn’t those boys again was it?”

“Uh, no. No, it wasn’t, it was actually um-”

“No, I can tell you, I saw the whole thing.” You jumped in, saving Peter from whatever mess of an explanation he’d come up with. “Peter actually slipped on something at the top of the stairs and fell down half a flight. It was reported to the principal and I took him to the nurse’s office; it was all just a clumsy mistake.”

“Peter, you really must be more careful.” May chastised mildly. “Still, it’s good you had such a nice friend to help you. Now come on in out of the cold you two, I’ll make everyone a nice cup of tea.”

Over the next twenty minutes, you were asked all manner of questions which you answered gladly, knowing that if your family met Peter, they’d probably do the same to him. You found May and Ben to be lovely people who clearly adored their nephew. It almost made you reluctant to announce you had to leave.

“Are you sure you won’t stay for dinner?” May offered.

“No thank you, I should be getting home ASAP.”

“Where do you live dear? I wouldn’t want you walking home alone in the dark.”

“Aunt May, (Y/N) lives just around-” Peter started until you gave him a look and shook your head.

“I um, I actually live in the city, but if I start walking now I can be home in an hour or two.”

“Peter,” Ben scolded, “you let (Y/N) come with you all this way even though (s)he lives in the city. How could you be so irresponsible?”

“It’s alright, really. Peter didn’t know where I lived, I didn’t tell him.” You explained. “It was nice meeting you both, I hope I’ll get to again. See you later Peter.” You got up to leave.

“Hey now, it wouldn’t be right to let you go out alone in the pitch black. What kind of person would I be if I allowed you to do that? Come with me and we’ll go in the car.”

“But-”

“No buts, come on now.”

You knew there was no way you would win the argument against Ben Parker; he was the very image of how a guardian should behave. You followed him out of the house apologising for the inconvenience.

When the car pulled away, May turned to Peter, gushing, “(S)he is a lovely one, that (Y/N). You should ask him/her out before someone else does.”

“Aunt May-” Peter blushed.

“Now, now, I saw the way you looked at (Y/N), it’s the same way your father looked at your mother when they first met.”

“(Y/N)’s just a friend.”

“For now maybe but that can change quite easily.”

Peter shuffled awkwardly on the sofa.

“Alright.” May relented. “I’ll drop it for now but we both know I’m right.”

She walked away, leaving Peter to his thoughts. You were one of the first people to really acknowledge him in school and you’d met his family all in one day, how could he not have a crush on you? Despite that, he was sure you were just being polite and that everything would go back to normal on Monday because who would admit to liking him in front of the other students?


Much to Peter’s amazement, you didn’t ignore him on the following Monday. In fact, from then on you made extra efforts to sit with him in class, work together on group projects, and even meet him when you could outside of school. Your friendship endured even when Peter started acting unusual, disappearing on occasion, and making peculiar excuses not to meet you. Although you wanted to know what was wrong with him, you stopped asking because he became fidgety and uncomfortable whenever you did. After a year as your friend, Peter decided it was finally time to ask you out; as soon as Valentine’s day rolled around he was going to visit your house, take flowers, and hope you wouldn’t reject his affections.

Peter checked himself out in the mirror. He had a million questions right now but nobody to ask them to. Was his outfit okay or would a suit be better than jeans and a t-shirt? Were the dozen red roses he was holding too much or not enough? Should he slick his hair back? How would he ask the question? Would he suddenly blurt it out in a moment of clarity or would he stand gawkily spluttering clumsy words? His multitude of questions were interrupted by the phone downstairs, he ran to get it since his Aunt and Uncle were away on a day-long date.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Peter, where are you?” You asked. “You said you were coming over to work on our Science project today or did you forget?”

Peter cursed himself silently, he’d been so busy getting ready that he’d forgotten the excuse he’d made to visit you.

“Uh… yeah. I’m on my way now, it’s just that to make our uh presentation board we’ll need tacks and I went to the store here but they don’t have any.”

“Oh, no problem, you just get over here when you can and I’ll pick up some tacks at our store.”

“Great, I’ll uh, see you soon (Y/N).”

“Okie doke, see you soon, bye.”

The phone clicked off. Peter looked at the clock on the wall, he’d have to hurry if he wanted to ask you out before your family got home. He ran upstairs, grabbing his backpack. There was only one thing that would get him to your place in good time; for this job, he would have to be Spiderman.


You threw the tacks in your bag on the way back home from the store, absentmindedly taking the shortcut through the back allies to your apartment block as you always did when it was cold.

“That sure is a nice lookin’ bag you got there.” A lanky man in a cut off denim vest and jeans croaked.

“Excuse me?” You turned to face the man.

“I’ll bet it’s worth a pretty penny or two.”

“W-What do you want?” You demanded shakily.

“That depends really don’t it. How much do you have?”

He pulled a switchblade out, grinning maliciously. You took a few steps backwards, keeping an eye on him until two meaty arms wrapped around your chest.

You screamed and bucked, craning your neck to see your attacker, another man who was clearly in league with the first, sneered as you writhed against him. The first man came closer, swaying his knife around, “I think this is going to be a fun day.”

“Wait.” You shrieked. “I’ll give you everything I have. Please, you don’t have to do this.”

“Have to? No. But I do want to, I like hearing people scream.”

“Wow.” Sarcastic clapping brought everyone’s attention to the vigilante Spiderman, who was stood only a few feet away. “Real great show everybody but it won’t make it to stage if someone dies in the first scene.”

“What the hell are you on about?” Denim jacket waved his knife in Spiderman’s direction.

“Wait! This isn’t a play rehearsal? Damn, if it was I was gonna add a scene where the two idiots got arrested and the victim goes free… Oh well, I guess I can do that anyway.”

You watched disbelievingly as the other thug let go of you, ready to go head-to-head with Spiderman. You didn’t know what to say about the scene in front of you as you stood, paralysed, watching it unfurl. It took only about two minutes for Spiderman to incapacitate the two men, leaving them stuck against the wall, presumably for the police to find.

He approached you, completely relaxed. “Are you alright? Did they hurt you?”

You swallowed thickly, your suspicions confirmed, then in a low voice you whispered, “Peter?”

Spiderman stumbled back, stunned. “Wha- Who? I don’t know any-”

“Stop. Don’t insult me like this Pe- uh Spiderman.”

You turned to leave the way you’d came but were stopped as Spiderman grabbed your wrist. “Can I… Can we talk about this?”

You hesitated before nodding uncertainly. Spiderman grabbed you around the waist tightly, using his web slingers to take off into the sky. Cold air whipped across your face as you clung tightly to him, both exhilarated and terrified until he stopped at the top of a nearby building, about 20 stories off the ground.

“How did you know?” He asked, sounding less confident than before.

“No matter how you disguise it, I know your voice by now.” You kept a safe distance from the friend you thought you knew. “How- I mean… You were always the guy who took photos but like… Were you born like this? Hell, are you even from this planet?”

“You’ve definitely been reading too much Superman.”

“Okay, drop the sarcasm mister or I’ll uh, very slowly climb down the fire escape, I guess.” You peeked over the edge of the building dubiously.

“It’s a long story with a radioactive spider and I know it’s weird but this is new to me too. Do you… do you accept me as Spiderman?”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice.” You replied sardonically, then switching to concern you asked, “Do you get hurt a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“Is this where you’re always disappearing?”

“…Yeah.”

“Okay.” You clambered onto the fire escape.

“Wait, (Y/N) where are you going?” he asked, alarmed.

“I just need some time to figure this out because I’ve just found out my best friend is a vigilante superhero who disappears often to get into fights with strangers.”

“Hang on, please don’t be like this, I- Just stay here for two minutes, can you do that for me?”

You exhaled tiredly, rubbing your forehead, “Sure, fine, whatever.”

“Great, I’ll be right back.”

Spiderman zipped away, leaving you on the fire escape to survey the city below; it seemed peaceful to be above it all. You could almost see the advantage of having powers like Peter’s. The peace didn’t last long however as Spiderman flung himself back onto the roof, landing behind you. When you faced him, you saw that his hands were behind his back and he was shuffling nervously.

“I uh, I planned to do this properly but considering everything… here.”

He pulled a very wilted bouquet of roses from behind his back, the heads had fallen off a few and the rest had shed most of their petals from the journey up. The sight of them made you smile wearily as you took hold of them gently.

“Thank you?”

“It’s Valentine’s day.” Peter blurted.

“That it is. So, is this you asking me out?”

“Yeah. If you don’t like it though, I can try again, we could do it a different way, or-”

You put up a hand to stop Peter’s babbling, “I um, I still need to get my head around everything so I’m just going to head home now.”

“WAIT!” Peter put his hand out. “Uh… Look, I understand if you don’t want to see me again but please, I’ve gotta ask you, you won’t tell the police about this will you?”

“Excuse me?” You said, affronted by the question. “What kind of cretin do you take me for? I would never in a million years, tell the police that my boyfriend was Spiderman.”

The whites of Peter’s mask widened in surprise, “B-boyfriend.”

You grinned. “Yes, boyfriend. Now, either you give me a lift to my apartment block or I climb this fire escape. Either way, it’s an adventure.”

Peter ran over to you clumsily; he was too lost in his ecstasy to speak. Instead, he simply grabbed hold of you and vaulted confidently off the roof to take you home.

Word Count: 1171
Author’s Note: @from-kitten-to-kitsune requested “Jim/Reader where Jim discovers reader’s obsession with 1980s Earth music”, and once I found the google 80s singalong station tonight, I couldn’t help myself. Songs referenced: Kids In America (Kim Wilde), I Can’t Fight This Feelin’ Anymore (REO Speedwagon), Video Killed The Radio Star (The Buggles), Love Is A Battlefield (Pat Benatar), Footloose (Kenny Loggins), I Think We’re Alone Now (Tiffany). ALSO!! FIRST JIM IMAGINE!!!


“Bright lights the music gets faster. Look boy, don’t check on your watch, not another glance!” You bounced from foot to foot, arms in the air, swinging your hips, singing at the top of your lungs. There was no one else in the hangar and you were determined to enjoy making the repairs to the Galileo shuttle. Your PADD was cycling through your playlist and when the song came on, you knew it was time for a dance break. As the song ended, you realized you needed to take your new year’s resolution to be more active a little more seriously. You were damp with perspiration. You unzipped your coveralls, and tied the arms around your waist, thankful you’d been mindful enough to leave a tank top on under the thick canvas layer. The next song that came on was not as danceable, and you got back to work on fuel pump. It was soaking in a cleanser so you get the grime off and find out if it was a repair job or a replacement.

“That is not a regulation uniform, Y/N,” Scotty commented as he approached.

“I never wear my uniform when I’m doing mechanic work, Scotty, you know that,” you replied. “I was on par with Jim for wrecking uniforms until I switched to coveralls.”

“Aye, and my budget thanks you,” Scotty laughed. “I’m more worried about the bare arms and shoulders. If something falls, or leaks, or sprays, or explodes -”

“I get it. I’ll be careful, Scotty.” You cut him off with a promise. He sighed, knowing you were just trying to placate him.

“I won’t sign off on sick time if you get injured, lass. You’ll have to fight that with Bones and Jim all on your own,” he threatened.

“Copy that,” you nodded, and went back to the soaking pump. You scrubbed to the rhythm of REO Speedwagon, humming tunelessly. You held the scrub brush up like a microphone. “I’ve forgotten what I started fightin’ fooooooooor.” You heard footsteps on the other side of the shuttle and dropped the scrub brush back into the soak. The footsteps stopped as the song changed over. Your head started bopping again, forgetting that you might have company.

It didn’t take long for another of your favourites to come on, and soon you were dancing around beside the shuttle again, not paying attention to anything or anyone as you sang along. You nearly shrieked when a hand slipped into yours and pulled you close, changing the style of the dance, but not the carefree feeling of it. Whoever he was, he was holding you so close you hadn’t caught who it was, but from the command Gold and the warm scent of cinnamon, oranges and amber, you guess it was Jim. You pulled back and smiled in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t take you for a classical fan,” he laughed. You shook your head.

“Depends to what classics you’re referring,” you countered. “This is kind of my jam. I’m not too keen on anything earlier than 20th century though. I mean, unless I can’t sleep, and then me and Bach have a hot date.”

“You know, I could help you with the sleeplessness,” he winked. “Say, your playlist have any -”

“Everyone knows you love the Beastie Boys, sir. My playlist had Licensed to Ill before I was on the Enterprise,” you interrupted. “I like most of that decade.” The song changed over and you smiled.

“I think we studied this song in philosophy of war,” Jim teased.

“Love is a battlefield?” You laughed, and pulled out of his arms. “Sounds like most of your Academy experience, from what I’ve heard.”

“You wound me.” He grasped his chest for emphasis. You rolled your eyes.

“Don’t you have a starship to captain?” You arched an eyebrow.

“Y/N! So cold!” He doubled over.

“You’ll get over it, sir.” You winked and went back to work.


The repairs on the shuttle were taking longer than you’d anticipated. Parts that should have been simple repairs were either more complicated for no discernable reason, or needed outright replacement. You were finally through the fuel pump, but it had taken a couple of days. You were finally squaring away the last of the wiring to the shields after a long afternoon of fighting with them, and you needed a break. As you rose, you flipped a few songs forward, needing a dance party to loosen up. The opening riff of the song almost echoed in the empty hangar. The theme and rhythm invited you to stretch out and before long, you were bouncing along to the music again. Lost in the music, you didn’t see Scotty coming to warn you that Jim was headed down to inspect the shuttle, nor did you notice when he rolled his eyes and backed away, unwilling to disrupt you.

You found yourself back in Jim’s arms, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. “We keep meeting like this, at this same nightclub. I’m drawn to your high ponytail and dance moves,” he teased, a half-cocked grin on his face.

“And I think you’re that bad boy that everyone has warned me about?” You countered.

“Bad boy with a heart of gold. Just misunderstood,” he winked. You shook your head.

“I know your type, Jim Kirk. You’re one of those good time boys. Good one time, then you vanish,” you challenged. He laughed, a genuine, real, belly laugh, his head thrown back with amusement.

“I like you,” he admitted. “Probably more than I should. I might even find you interesting, with your weird outfits, and wrong side of the track background.”

“Wait, which trope are we playing here, Jim? Are you the bad boy, or am I the bad girl?” Your nose wrinkled in a confused smile. You reached for him, putting your hand on his arm, and suddenly, his smile wasn’t put on, or cheesy, and he wasn’t playing games.

“Join me for dinner in my quarters, Y/N.” His serious tone was a strange contrast against the background of the cheesy Tiffany track. You tilted your head to the side and took him in. He meant it. You nodded.

“I’ll need about an hour to get washed up, and changed,” you agreed. He nodded and turned to leave, but stopped, walked back to you, and pulled you back into his arms, kissing you before you even knew what he was after. You nearly went limp in his arms. “Oh, uh.”

“Dinner,” he nodded and cleared his throat before turning to leave again.

“So I take it you like the side pony?” You found your voice long enough to tease him again. He stopped, and turned back, staying where he was this time.

“I might tear your clothes off if you wear it,” he said, all seriousness. You gaped for a moment, uncertain what to say. He was halfway down the hangar when your voice returned.

“Did you like it on the left better, or the right?” You called.