Cap w no shield, Thor w no hammer, Bucky w no arm, Yondu dead, Pietro dead, Frigga dead, Odin dead, Nebula gone, wtf up with Bruce & Nat, has Jane been recognized for her brilliance & now she livin lavish?, Tony & Pepper getting married, did Darcy graduate?, Thor got one eye, what’s gonna happen to Valkyrie, Steve knew Bucky killed Tony’s parents!!, Bucky froze, Loki sneaky ass got the tesseract, where tf is Sif!? Will she ever show up again??, Jane dumped Thor, now Thor with Valkyrie, Steve gone, did Thor & Loki hug?, T'challa’s ring?, will Gamora & Peter ever kiss?, Thanos is coming, Clint got a family!?!, Vision & Wanda?, is Selvig ok?, Aunt May “What the fu-”, where are all the infinity stones, Quill is half celestial!?, Thor got a dead sister (is she really dead tho)?
there’s a pretty girl at the door | peter parker imagine
Summary: When you return to Queens after moving away, you find yourself reconnecting with old friends, as well as making new ones.
Warnings: fluff ig??, also trash writing oOps (if you have any warnings you’d like me to use please lmk!)
Word Count: 2,480
A/N: honestly, idek what this is. it started as a few paragraphs and then wh00ps. it’s not the best thing i’ve ever written but here it is :/ anyways… i wrote this super quick and didn’t go back to revise/edit so if you notice any mistakes please tell me about them! i’d also appreciate any feedback you have for me… i’m always looking to improve! :}
She was obnoxious and unforgiving. Her loud and violent nature was immutable, and she was, in essence, the vilest being to ever exist. From the bravest of brave to the strongest of strong: many have taken on her challenging cry, but none have been able to resist her alluring song. The delicate melody hisses and bites at your ears, and the sinister tune infects your thoughts and shakes you to your core.
You didn’t expect that it would come so soon, but alas, it was your turn to challenge the infamous she-beast. As much as you tried to defy the temptation of her enchanting chorus, you were consumed by the captivating rhythm and demandingness of the euphony.
You reluctantly sacrifice the warmth of your covers and relinquish your peaceful slumber to the villain that is your alarm clock.
Of all the daily struggles that come with being a teenager, waking up is the harshest burden you have to face. The will to sleep always seems to tease and taunt you throughout the day, only to vanish when you crawl under those sheets. Nevertheless, it is a necessary evil, and waking up is the gateway to wonderful (and not-so-wonderful) days.
Everybody loves a hero. People line up for them, cheer them, scream their names. And years later, they’ll tell how they stood in the rain for hours just to get a glimpse of the one who taught them how to hold on a second longer. I believe there’s a hero in all of us, that keeps us honest, gives us strength, makes us noble, and finally allows us to die with pride, even though sometimes we have to be steady, and give up the thing we want the most. Even our dreams.
Peter had never been a huge fan of classical music. He knew the basics, Mozart, Beethoven, Debussy. Joining band changed that quickly. At Midtown, band and orchestra are jointed so that it creates a full ensemble of instruments. It’s the end of his Freshman year and now Peter can proudly say he has a favorite composer or arrangement; he can give his opinion on violas or trumpets or whatever instrument.
Though he prefers your instrument. You’re Y/n L/n and you’re a sophomore. You’ve always been kind to him.
Right now you’re playing on the piano with your friends, delightfully singing a song from Beauty and the Beast.
It’s different to see you in pajamas. It’s different to see everyone in pajamas, actually.
Midtown Musicians Program always hosts a lock in at the end of the year. Classrooms are emptied and filled with air mattresses and tables for food. The school has been officially closed for about three hours now but everyone is having loads of fun. Peter can tell you are enjoying yourself as you joyfully sing ‘Be Our Guest’.
“Having fun, creep?” Ned asked. Peter rolled his eyes behind his black framed glasses. “I am not a creep. I’m just watching Y/n and the others play piano!”
“Do you even know their names?”
Peter elbowed Ned in the ribs. “Just cause I don’t know all of Y/n’s friends doesn’t mean I’m a creep,” Peter argued.
“Ah, whatever,” Ned sighed. “Not like Y/n’d like you back anyways.”
Peter gaped at his friend. “Dude!”
Ned held his hands up to tame Peter’s annoyance. “Only because you never talk to them. I mean, if Y/n actually knew that you exist then I would say you have a fair chance.”
Peter sighed, holding his head in his hands. “I have a better shot at Tony Stark asking me to be his sidekick,” he admitted. “Oh well. I’m a nerd anyways.”
Ned patted Peter’s shoulder. “Everyone here is a nerd, Y/n included. They’re singing Bohemian Rhapsody now.”
“Everyone likes that song, Ned, gosh.” Peter cracked his knuckles to relieve his fingers pent up tension. “Maybe they’ll join marching band next year. And then notice me. What if we date? That would be so awesome. I would have to work out though, because I would want to protect them.” Peter rambled on a while longer while Ned just nodded. In truth, he thought Y/n would definitely go out with Peter-if Peter bothered to ask; instead he sits around like Romeo, pining for someone he can’t have. Only Peter can have Y/n. Or he could if he bothered putting in effort. But Peter isn’t the type to try with those sort of things.
He’s much too anxious and wary of possible rejection or failure to do anything crazily new or exciting. Since the death of his uncle in the seventh grade, Peter had become much more anxious. Ned wondered if Peter would remain that way for his entire life.
“There’s always tomorrow,” Ned suggested. “Maybe you’ll meet a cute girl at the science lab.”
Peter had nearly forgotten about that. The science club has a field trip Sunday to a big time lab that specializes in genetics and technology. He’d lost track of the days.
Maybe he would meet someone there.
Better yet, maybe Y/n would be there by coincidence.
Probably not. But Peter intends to have fun tomorrow anyways.
An hour later, dinner was served; an array of pizzas, pastas, sandwiches, and salads lined the tables with a drink machine parked nearby. Peter looked about in awe. “This is awesome!”
Someone chuckled behind him. It was Y/n. You’d been admiring the room and all of your work.
“Thanks. It took some time to get the drink machine. I am soo glad we did though.”
Peter nervously pushed his glasses up. “You did this?”
“Not just me, the others on the student council helped. My friend Liz, Dan, Tiny. We managed to rent that soda machine for an entire month. It’s scheduled for use at four other school functions. You should go to them! It’ll be fun.”
Peter could only nod and smile, so Ned did majority of the talking for him.
“I’ll see you guys later. Bye Ned, bye Peter.” You waltzed away with a wave and ringing laugh directed towards a friend who was making a funny face at you.
“Y/n knows my name!” Peter exclaimed as soon as you’d gone out of ear shot.
“And mine too.” Ned sounded pleasantly surprised while Peter sounded as if his heart was about to fail. “Play it cool, now. But if you get married after high school, can I be the best man?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “Ask me again if Y/n and I start to date. Now let’s get food, I’m starving.” Peter had already walked off. Ned looked at Y/n, and saw Y/n staring at Peter.
Ned laughed to himself and smiled the rest of the night.
Anonymous Requested: Could you please do a cute fluffy peter taking you out on your first date?
Pairing: Peter x Reader
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!
Peter felt his hands grow clammy, his stomach riddled with nerves. It was his first date with you and while he was extremely excited, Peter also was extremely nervous. He wasn’t even sure why you’d accepted his requests, or actually why you’d asked him out (he never found the guts to do so himself) and while he wasn’t complaining, Peter couldn’t understand.
You were popular while he was not - and while you were nice and kind and sweet and never worried about talking to those that others would think are less than them, Peter would’ve never expected you to ask him out. Though the moment you had he’d accepted with great eagerness.
Raising his hand, he tried to ignore the butterflies that grew in his stomach and knocked on your door. He didn’t have to wait long before it swung open and you were revealed to his eyes. While you’d both agreed nothing fancy, Peter couldn’t help but feel completely blown away at the sight of you - he’d always thought you to be pretty - but seeing you in a simple sundress and your hair curled made Peter feel like he was the luckiest man on earth.
“Hey, Peter.” You greeted, your cheeks growing red as you noticed his eyes on you.
Upon the sound of your voice, Peter seemed to snap out of his stupor and with that same doe eye look he met your eyes. “H-Hey.”
“Shall we go?” You offered once you realized he was making no move to go; once you said that Peter quickly nodded and with a bright smile, he offered his hand out. You accepted it graciously, pleased that Peter seemed just as eager as you did for this date. With a bright smile, you both walked hand-in-hand down the pavement, a skip in your step.
The heat with which Spider-Man kissed you was almost startling. It had been as if you two hadn’t seen each other in ages, which isn’t true since you had a date yesterday on top of the Pizza Hut nearby your place.
Spider-Man’s warm tongue glided over yours with not quite perfection but damn near good enough for you.
You had to pry yourself away from him after a few minutes and force him to talk.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, holding his hands.
Spider-Man rolled his mask down over his mouth again. “I guess you could say it’s been a rough night,” he admitted.
You smile apologetically. “How bad?”
“Not so bad. But when everything builds up you just have to find a way to take it out and beating up bad guys isn’t enough so-”
“So you take it out on me instead?” You conclude with a laugh. “Don’t worry,” you assure your boyfriend when he begins to fret over the choice of words. “Making out with you is really fun. But maybe things are building up because you don’t talk about it.”
Spider-Man groaned. “Here we go” he seemed to say.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know that you’re being serious,” Spider-Man responded. “That’s why I hate it.”
You pout and lean back against the low wall on the roof, looking down at the traffic and shadows and blinking lights. “If you don’t trust me, you can just say so,” you mumble.
“Y/n,” Spider-Man said softly. “I do trust you. It’s mostly myself I don’t trust. Nobody can know about-”
“About your secret,” you finish for him. “I know that! I know everything you’re going to say! Spider-Man isn’t a party trick, it’s not a game, you’ve told me all of it!”
Spider-Man sighed. You can see his face moving underneath the mask, most likely becoming pinched with frustration.
“I’ve never seen your face,” you finally say. The wind blows across your forehead. “I’ve let you seen most of me and yet you never let me see your face. Maybe I trust you too much.”
Spider-Man looked hurt. You looked hurt too probably. You felt hurt, coiling across your ribs and binding your arms and feet, making you claustrophobic despite being out in the open with pleasantly cool wind reminding you that you aren’t bound.
“I wish that I could,” Spider-Man whispered. “But I can’t.”
You nod. “I know.”
“Are you upset with me?”
You shivered. “I don’t know,” you admit, turning to look at him. “I’m upset in general. Upset and confused and torn.”
Spider-Man held his head in his hands. “You don’t deserve this, you know. Stupid dates on roof tops. Going out with someone you don’t even really know. Not being able to even say you have a boyfriend.”
“So? Are you saying we should break up?” you ask.
“Then what are you saying?”
“I don’t know,” he lamely replied. “I know that I don’t want to give you up. I want to be selfish and keep you so that I’m happy.”
“And what about my happiness?” you ask again.
Spider-Man took a deep breath. “What would make you happy?”
You clench your fists tightly. “I think you damn well know,” you snap, glaring at him hard. You look away quickly. “I’m going to sleep. I have a stupid chem test tomorrow and I would rather not fight with you.”
“Wait, a chem test tomorrow?” Spider-Man smacked his forehead. “A test tomorrow!” he exclaimed to himself. You stare in confusion. “Huh?”
“I-I forgot that you have school on Sundays!” he stuttered.
“Tomorrow is Friday,” you correct sharply. You don’t understand what he’s saying but you’ve become much to angry to bother asking what was wrong. “Goodnight.”
“Y/n, wait, are you going to leave without fixing this? Without fixing us?” Spider-Man took your hand to stop you, the way Romeo would try and stop Juliet.
You pulled it back. “The only one who can fix this is you, babe,” you say hoarsely. “Goodnight.”
You slump onto the sofa and sigh contently. The tension from today drained down your legs; school started early-as usual-and sucked-as usual-and Peter Parker slammed into you in the hallway, making you spill a peach cup down your hoodie. He stuttered and stumbled over himself to apologize and help. You could only take a breath and smile gently.
Peter’s pretty cute and dorky. In a lot of ways, he reminded you of your boyfriend. Your stupid boyfriend.
So you gently touched his shoulder and assured him that you weren’t mad. Then the morbid chemistry test came, and Peter sat down behind you. It’s such a strong thing to accuse someone of, and you definitely don’t want to outright accuse him, but you’re pretty sure that Peter cheated off your test. He kept staring at you the entire class. But he’s majorly smart and so goody-goody that you can’t picture Parker doing such a thing.
You made a mental note to get a peek at his score; if it’s the same then you might look into it more.
You tried really hard not to think about Spider-Man during school and now that you’re home, there’s nothing to distract you. Your mom is off at the store or at her office so you’re alone with thoughts.
Just as you considered eating ice cream straight from the carton the doorbell rang. You didn’t answer it. Besides, you’re alone, so what if you get kidnapped?
Of course it rang again, followed by impatient knocks. You stomped across and opened the door.
The last person you expected to be at your door stood right in front of you now. “Peter?”
He looked so relieved.
“How do you know where I live?” you ask, shifting uncomfortably on your legs.
“Y/n, I need to tell you something right now and I’m not going to chicken out or anything because you’re right! You need to be happy too. I trust you so much and I will protect you with my life.”
You stared wide eyed at Peter, who ranted on and on about things that didn’t make sense. “Are you alright?” you ask slowly. “I can call someone for you if you’d like. Uber okay? I have some cash you can bor-”
“I’m Spider-Man,” Peter blurted out.
“Haha…wait a second. What did you just say?”
“I…I said that I’m Spider-Man,” Peter said again, sounding more confident this time. “I’m Spider-Man and I’m sorry and I’m in love with you.”
You put a hand over your forehead as the floor begun to spin underneath you.
“Oh, shit,” Peter hissed when your eyes rolled back and you slunk to the floor. Peter caught you in time and sighed heavily to himself. “That went well.”