Peter Parker x reader
A/N Peter and the reader are both sixteen here because it makes me feel more comfortable and the reader has a younger sister so apologies if you don’t
Peter Parker. The spiderman. He was a hero; Mr stark gave him a suit and he hung around with Dr Banner when his science homework was due. He saved bank robbery hostages and his red face was plastered all over the five o’clock news. Or he was the boy whose face was plunged into his chipped locker, he was the boy who had a girlfriend who was so far out of his league. Obviously, that thought only plagued his mind not hers.
He trudged down the hallway whilst wiping the sleep out of eyes, his hearing blazing in his mind not having the energy to dwindle down everyone’s drowning whines. He reaches the blue locker, shoving books into it and grabbing an English Shakespeare textbook but before he can grab a calculus one the door is slammed in his face. He huffs and hangs his shoulders as the bully and his friends crowd around him ‘a typical Friday’ he thinks. However, before they say or do anything she arrives, all Y/H/C haired and Y/E/C eyed. “Sorry boys, his needed elsewhere!” Her tiny hand grapples his and yanks him down the hallway. Hooking her arm through his bent one she snuggles into his side and mummers something about how this routine is boring. All he focuses on nonetheless is the feeling of her against him, he smiles a small smile and thinks of the first day they met a year ago:
His black eye beats like the sun outside the prison gate of the school. The storage closet smells of bleach and damp mops and unfortunately blood. He curls into himself and hears the clicking of shoes approach the door. The door swings open and the girl curses. She goes to shut the door but sees the huddle of a boy who was peter. “You ok?” Her quiet voice whispers, he looks up because he thought she was a teacher but the simple black jeans and blue jumper that adored her body spoke otherwise.
He nods and hopes she leaves but she doesn’t she pulls the string and light floods the small space. She gasps at the sight of his bloody nose and black eye, looking around she goes to shut the door but sighs and steps into the small space, shoving herself in-between a mop bucket and him. She swings her hand to his face and says, “Hi my names Y/N” He looks down, and shakes her hand limply and mummers how his name was Peter.
“Thank you.” He whispers when kissing her head when they reach her locker. She detaches herself from him and twists her code in, “what for?” She questions, he shrugs “for being you.” She raises her eyebrows and laughs “You my love are a strange one. But your welcome!
A/N: Short but sweet, send in requests and love you all