rain || peter parker x reader
here’s a little somnth somnth for y'all while i get some other writing done and have been so busy. its really nothing, and kinda pointless, but i really like the rain and my fan calls be weird for it. idk thats kinda where the idea sparked. enjoy!!
words : 1194
It was times like these you enjoyed the most. You enjoyed the incessant tapping of the droplets on pavement. You loved the way the clouds turned grey and the atmosphere felt dark; almost lonely to most, except you. You found comfort in the wet weather; you felt at home, not alone.
Your family called you weird for your love of the weather. For them it’s always been sunshine and light breeze like most others. ‘They just don’t get me.’ You’d always think, ‘But I like being the weird one.’
Along with the rain, you felt comfort in knowing you were original, you liked it. No matter how lonely it could be when the tapping on the roof stopped. You found solace in it.
Most kids in school found you the weird girl for your personality. You’d always been a girl of few words, only spoke when needed; but a dreamer, that you were. You were always in your own little world, oblivious to the others who stared at you as if you were an alien.
There were times when the streets were empty because of how hard and fast the drops of water would fall from the sky and you’d simply bask in it as if it were the last time you’d see the beauty in the world. ‘And that’s what makes me weird I guess,’ when you’d stand in the rain, ‘I see hope as much as despair when I stand here.’
That’s what you believed was beauty. Standing in one of the imperfections that the world gave us. Rain gave hope to flowers, and grass, and anything wanting to grow into something more; but it sent others into a depression, it’s around to remind you of the worse that’s happened before as water tapped onto everything below it.
An hour before the Science and Technology school you attended ended, rain had begun pour down like no tomorrow. All the water distracted the kids in classes; they groaned and moaned at the thought of having to walk home in that. You, however, sat in class quietly as you smiled to yourself.
The moment school had ended, students jumped out of their seats. When they’d made it out of the school, they all darted in each and every direction, trying to find the closest possible way to get home. Like them, you jumped out of your seat and out of school; but stopped outside. You stood in the pouring rain, looking up and letting the cool drops fall down your face. You searched the sky for nothing, examining the dark clouds before being interrupted by a voice behind you,
“Hey,” you turned to face the source of the voice, “Do…, Are you okay?”
It was boy about your age, presumably who went to the school. It took you a few moments to remember that he was in your Math class. He was incredibly smart, and nervous.
You smiled at him as he looked at you in concern, “I’m fine.”
He nodded, giving an estranged look as you turned your back to him again, “Are you sure? ‘Cause I could walk you home if you want, I mean if you don’t exactly know where you’re going. The rain can be a lot sometimes.”
Your head tilted back upwards, smiling lightly as your eyes squinted to prevent the droplets from blinding you, “I like it when the rain’s a lot.”
You could barely hear his footsteps coming in your direction over the rain until he stopped right beside you. Your shoulders had been grazing his ever so lightly. Peter tilted his head up as you did, squinted at the sky in confusion, “What’re you looking at?”
You hummed something that sounded like, ‘I don’t know’, before moving your head down and to the side to face the boy.
You watched as he realized you had been looking at him. He moved his face to the side too, only inches away from yours. You tilted your head to the side a bit, examining the boy’s features. Reaching up, you put one of your hands on his face, cupping his cheek lightly. His eyes widened slightly as you did so, not sure of what to do then.
“Most would just run out of this,” you spoke up, still looking at the boy, “Do you think I’m weird?”
Peter didn’t know why, but he’d felt a pang of pain in his chest after hearing the last couple of words come out of your mouth sounding so desperate and curious. The thought of you getting called names for, presumably, standing out in the rain the way you were made him feel a great deal of sympathy and defensiveness for you.
Your face broke into a broad smile, dropping your hand from his face and turning back to the sky, “Thanks.”
Peter turned back as well, moving his hands up to push down the hood of his sweater, exposing his damp hair to the showers of weather. His eyes moved to the side, only glimpsing at you as his head stayed in the same position. He watched as your eyes closed, humming lightly and all expression leaving your face.
“Why do people call you weird?”
You stayed the same as you answered Peter, “Because I do this. Because I like it.”
Peter shrugged, “Why do you like it?”
You let out a sigh like laugh at the curious boy before turning serious, voice small as your face stayed the same towards the sky, “I don’t feel alone here.”
He’d felt his heart drop slightly. He couldn’t understand why anyone would call you weird; the reason you stood out here was one of the most innocent and pure things he’d ever heard.
“You wouldn’t mind if I stood here with you for a bit longer, right?”
Your face broke out into a grin, as did his, turning your head to him, laughing and shaking your head, “No, I don’t mind.”
You stood in silence with the boy for a few moments, staring at each other with curious expressions, searching one another when you’d before you spoke up again, “I want to move to London after school, you know. It rains a lot there.”
Peter, who’d begun leaning in slightly, responded dazed, “Yeah,” his eyes shot down to your lips and back up to your eyes, “London doesn’t sound that bad when now that I think about it.”
You giggled slightly when he nudged his nose playfully into yours once he’d gotten close enough. You saw water drip down his face, some falling into his mouth that was slightly agape. You leant forward and brushed your lips over his, waiting for him. He pressed his lips onto to yours, so lightly, as if you’d break if he pressed any harder. Your lips melded into each other perfectly, sending chills down your spin.
After breaking apart, you both turned back to the sky, smiling. Peter, still shoulder to shoulder with you, put your smaller hand into his; fitting perfectly into each other.
“Well,” you spoke softly, “I guess you’re weird now too.”
Peter smiled, “Maybe I like being the weird one.”