Muse || Peter Parker
Prompt - Y/N is an artist who tends to find inspiration in others, as in she draws other people, and she draws Peter the most. He sees one of her drawings of him and asks her about it. FLUFFY!
Warning - none.
A/N: haven’t written anything in awhile and this might be a little short. Besides, I was getting bored. I am also in the midst of writing some smutty sin, so you can look forward to that.
not my gif
She was a creative person, incredibly above average when it came to expressing her imagination. Her art was aesthetically pleasing to the eye, those who saw it wondered how a girl of such a young age could possibly make something so realistic. She had a talent for capturing the person’s essence in every drawing, or portrait to be more specific.
She drew everyone, whether they noticed it or not.
But there was one person who she absolutely loved to draw.
That person was Peter Parker.
The boy in the layered sweaters and graphic t-shirts.
She adored that boy’s physique because to her drawing him came like second nature. In her drawings, his fluffy brown hair would be perfectly styled, his clothes exactly the way he had them; disheveled.
But there had been one day when he had been late to school. He walked into their shared class, his hair tousled, his clothes in disarray. He had ran his hand through his wild morning hair in an attempt to tame it, and at that moment Y/N had already pulled out her sketchbook to draw his rugged appearance that captivated her so much.
She watched him for the duration of the class period to get his features perfect. Nobody noticed her watching him, it was a normal sight to see her staring at someone. Everyone knew that she was an artist and that she drew anyone that captured her eye, some people took it as a compliment, others didn’t.
She loved that drawing, she was proud of it.
Everyday she drew someone new, and among those new drawings was always an even better drawing of Peter.
In the beginning, when she first started drawing him she barely knew his name, she was just intrigued by his noticeable Star Wars t-shirt. But then as time went on, she became more infatuated with the young genius.
She tried talking to him but the moment she caught a glimpse of those chocolate brown eyes, her face would become warm and her eyes were immediately back on her sketchbook. He was her muse.
She found comfort in sketching his cheekbones, his jawline, his nose, his beautiful hair. It enraptured her.
She was in her last class of the day, off to the side in the last row of desks. Peter sat directly to her left.
She had already finished her classwork so she pulled out her almost completed sketchbook and opened it to an empty page, her pencils were already laid out waiting for her to use them.
She didn’t really mind if he noticed her drawing him, maybe he’d want to talk to her about it and then she’d actually be able to talk to him without being a shy idiot about it.
She began with the outline of his face. She had done these steps so many times that she could probably do them in her sleep.
She continued to sketch him, but she was so engrossed in her drawing that she didn’t notice Peter’s eyes flickering to her paper. He recognized the face as his own and his eyebrows furrowed together.
‘She’s drawing me. She’s actually drawing me,’ he thought.
A ghostly grin etches its way onto his face as he watches her, the pencil running over the paper, her index finger smudging the graphite for the appropriate shading, her bottom lip in between her teeth in concentration.
He noticed that she didn’t even need to glance at him to complete her drawing. Unknown to him, but she had his face permanently etched into her brain.
The bell rang signaling that it was finally time for the poor students to go home. Y/N packed up her stuff but carried her sketchbook in her arms.
As the students began to excitedly file out of the room, Peter followed behind Y/N to try and talk to her.
Y/N liked to take her time when she left school because she didn’t really like being in a crowded subway surrounded by tons of people, downside to living in New York. She walked slowly as she let her beat-up converse hit the newly polished school floors.
Peter tapped her shoulder making her turn around. When she saw that familiar face looking down at her with a gentle grin, her heart fluttered.
“Hey,” she said trying to make it seem like she wasn’t dying to run her fingers through his fluffy hair.
“Uh hi, I’m-uh, I’m Peter,” he managed to say, she smiled at his nervousness.
“Yeah, I know. You’re in most of my classes, you’re not invisible,” she clutches her sketchbook tightly in her arms.
‘He’s talking to me. He’s actually talking to me,’ she thought.
He blushed cherry red, “I um, I noticed you drawing me during class and I-” she wanted to let him finish but she had to ask.
“I didn’t make you uncomfortable, did I?” She asked, he shook his head vigorously.
“No! No, you didn’t make me uncomfortable. I just know that you draw everyone and I was curious as to why you were drawing me,” he explains.
“Because you’re beautiful,” she blurts out without processing the words as they left her mouth.
Peter’s grin then turns into a full blown smile, cheeks blazing red.
Y/N knew that she should feel embarrassed about what she had just said to the object of her artistic affection, but she wasn’t embarrassed.
“You think I’m…beautiful?” He couldn’t stop smiling, his cheeks were hurting from how hard he was smiling but he couldn’t help it.
A gorgeous and talented girl had just called him beautiful.
“Yeah. You’re my muse, my inspiration,” she wished she would just stop talking, but she had already started so there was no point in stopping.
“I know it’s a bit awkward but I-I draw you all the time, I find your features…fascinating,” she tells him, he chuckles.
“Well maybe we could hang out sometime and you can draw me as much as you’d like,” he offers awkwardly sliding his hands into his pockets, she hides her absolute joy by looking down at her sneakers as her cheeks turn a bright red.
“Um yeah, yeah I’d like that,” she accepts.
They leave the school together and he walks her home only for her to insist that he stay so she could take him up on his offer of making another portrait of him. He accepted, but this time it wasn’t a drawing…it was a painting.
He flipped through the pages of her sketchbook as she prepared the materials that she needed for the painting.
“Don’t you ever get tired of drawing me? I mean, I’m nothing special.”
She laughs, “Not at all, like I said…you’re my muse.”
A/N: I hope this was satisfying enough. I’ll probably be posting another fic this week because I’m having lots of inspiration. <3