Two weeks passed. Marinette spent her free time eating out with coworkers, having Skype chats with friends and family back home, researching caterers for her wedding, sightseeing with Lila, and watching American television to improve her English.
But what she liked to do best was suit up and explore the city after sundown. New York was a forest of lights, fire escapes, alleys, and nooks to hide in. She stumbled upon rooftop gardens not unlike her own back home. People hanging out on balconies greeted her as she swung past. When all her restless energy had been expelled, she lay on her back on some secluded rooftop, listened to the chilly wind and the soundtrack of the city, and allowed herself to miss Chat.
A/N: Okay um, this is my first fanfiction!! It’s not very good, I know, but I hope that I can only grow from here. :) I know some authors have a problem with reblogging their works, but it’s totally fine with me. In fact, I could use the help lmao ahhh I’m stalling okay…Here goes nothing…
Summary: You meet the one and only guardian of New York City while climbing down your fire escape as leaving for school. But he seems familiar…. do you know the superhero they call Spider-Man?
Another A/N: Working on a part 2 as you’re reading this -if anyone is- so I know there isn’t a lot of fluff or romance but this is mostly short exposition so don’t give up on me yet ;)
Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Reader
Your body rockets up in bed, a thin layer of sweat covering your bare shoulders. And it was hot. Too hot. As if your bedroom had slowly gravitated towards the surface of the sun while you slept.
Your trembling hands reach up, ghosting over your shoulders as you try to coax your muscles into relaxing again.
It was always the same dream. Running through endless darkness, never sure of what you’re escaping from. What it is that has tears streaming down your cheeks at night. What it must be that has you waking up in the early hours of the morning gasping for breath and fists tangled in the sheets.
You reach over, turn the pillow over to the cooler side, and let your head drift slowly back down into comfort. But, it isn’t comforting at all. Not really. The whole idea is forced. How can you expect yourself to dream again when you know what awaits you?
“Breathe, Y/N” you sigh quietly.
Your own words really do comfort you this time, an you sit up to stretch. After all, how much of this is new? None. None of it.
The clock reads 3:14 am and you’re pleased with the amount of rest you’d gotten. Your own subconscious decided to let you off easily tonight. How kind, you think bitterly.
Sighing, you gently touch your feet to the floor, the cold wood a relief to your sizzling skin. You shower, making sure that the water doesn’t touch your hair. You don’t mind showing up to school in a hoodie and chucks but you drew the line at frizzy hair. You suppose you’d wash it later.
Once you’re dressed and ready to go, you choose to leave the apartment out of the fire escape. Well, your window doesn’t have one, but the floor below you does. Swinging your long legs over the side of your window, you dangle for a bit and breathe in the morning air before dropping onto the second floor’s fire escape.
“You shouldn’t do that, you know.”
A low voice beside you -and I mean right beside you- makes you screech and grip the landing rail for dear life. Exaggerating, you clutch at your chest above your heart and lean over with a loud **huff** of air. You’re about to lean over and give this stranger a piece of your goddamn mind when you see who it is that spoke to you.
“Nice tights,” you smile, raising an eyebrow.
Oh no, what the hell, Y/N? Good going. You just laughed at Spider-Man’s tights. Do the world a favor and go pitch yourself off of a bridge. Seriously, just go.
Your cheeks burn and he lets out -what you hope is- a nervous laugh.
“Yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his hand in…embarrassment? “They do look kind of funny, don’t they?”
You shake your head vigorously in an attempt to redeem yourself.
“No, no! I was just kidding. Also, I uh, kind of panicked when I saw the Spider-Man standing standing next to me on my fire escape.”
“Oh, um, yeah that’s me,” he says with what you can only hope is a smile. It’s hard to tell with the mask but judging by his voice, he’s considerably young. Huh.
“So, can I ask why you’re out on the fire escape?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Oh! Right, well I’m running late for school so I thought that maybe coming out this way would be quicker.”
He stood up from his relaxed position leaning on the railing and glanced quickly at a thin metal watch clasped to his wrist.
“Shit! I’m late too,“ He yelped, tripping over a bucket behind him. You jump, startled at his outburst, and pull at your backpack straps nervously. One of your hands reaches out and lands on his bicep, steadying him but surprising the both of you. His mask turns towards you and know that he’s looking into your eyes. You wonder what color his are.
You clear your throat and snatch your hand away, casting your eyes down. Your cheeks are bright red and damn, you can feel it.
Spider-Man takes you hand and squeezes it.
“Please be careful, Y/N. It’s really dangerous up here. Do you need help getting down?”
Of course you don’t; you’ve never needed help before. But this was Spider-Man, the chances were one in a million that you’d ever speak to him again. You nod and he reaches under your backpack straps to press a surprising strong arm around your lower back. He looks back at you and you nod again, throwing your arms around his neck to hold your head near his chest. Before you know it, you’re flying. The wind is in your hair and the building blurs by as you fall. You see the ground rushing towards you and you squeal, certain that both of you were plummeting to the concrete. But at the very last second, the red and blue clad superhero swings around on a web and your feet lightly touch the ground. He squeezes you to him in a quick but firm hug, holding your head close to his right shoulder. Then he’s gone, swinging away between the buildings.
You debate even going to school after that; why bother? Hell, you could still feel the warmth on your back from where he’d touched you. But you do go. And you’re suffering through your seventh period when a startling realization smacks you right in the gut.
He said my name. And he hugged me. Do I…. know him?
To my only supporters who gave me the courage to pick up writing for the public again ❤❤❤ @thespideyimagines @intheheartoftomholland