Webs and Hearts- tasm!p.p

2. Club Idiot

Warnings: say less, it's just chaotic

Summary: getting a meet and greet with spiderman was the least thing in your mind because, 1- you were going to die, 2- he doesn't know it's muh-she-tee and not mah-chet

_

"Do you think-"

"All the time," Peter snorted as he walked ahead of you. "I'm a good thinker."

"That's not what I meant! Do you think-"

"Yep."

Your blood boiled as you kicked him on the shin. "Will you quit that? I'm trying to ask you something!"

"Alright," he chimed again," ask away."

"Thanks."

"You are welcome."

You stopped dead on the footpath. Bloody hell...

"Oh god, fuck you and your welcome!" Tossing your shoulder bag at him, you stomped your way to atleast painlessly kill your best friend as he smirked in your direction. "Now I forgot what I was going to ask!"

Skidding across the lanes of Queens, you two looked like gremlins in making (well, if you both weren't that already), and the final straw was when you actually plucked out your sneaker (which had taken five minutes to be laced up), launched it at the brunet, who seemed to be caught off guard as the treads of the shoe hit his head. Peter saw the shoe coming, but hey, it's not everyday you roam around some stinky alleys of Queens revealing, hey, Y/n! It's not just your idiot best friend, it's the friendly neighbourhood hero; AKA the spiderman!

"Kudos to your ass running," you panted, slouching by his side, your back pressed firmly on the red bricked wall. If only you hadn't run like 30 metres after Peter, you could have totally struck off the thought of standing at such a creepy place.

Anyway, call it the grace of spidey tingle, he stiffened next to you, and a little tilt of his head towards the opposite corner already made him whine in his head.

First, he wasn't in the mood to get gut punched.

Second, he definitely didn't want you to greet and meet spiderman when your temper was reverberating so badly.

"Well, it's a nice change of scenery," he muttered, swinging both of your bags in his hand.

"Seriously?" You raised your brow. "This is a freaky alley."

"Exactly. I was being sarcastic. But this isn't good..."

You wanted to punch the air and yell 'heck yeah, I know!', but kept your mouth shut just to retort with a 'how could you tell?'.

"See, we are slowly getting surrounded," he hummed towards a tumult of ragged faced Mr (plural please) Criminals. "And they have guns and knives and I think that guy is carrying a machete."

"Machete?" You mimicked him. "As in muh-she-tee?"

"Ma-chet," he repeated solemnly.

"Hah, it's muh-she-tee!"

He pinched the bridge of his nose, handing you your bag. "Um, I'll call help."

"Hey!" You protested but Peter was gone by then. "Wonderful time to die. Brilliant." You crossed your arms and turned to the Mr Criminals, who were nearly ten footsteps away from where you were standing. "Good...what's the time? Uh- Good evening!"

Mr Criminal 1 grunted at you and yes! It was time for the mama muh-she-tee.

"Woah, woah, woah," you tilted your head back and saw a flash of red and blue spandex, and soon enough, you were being pushed back to the wall. "Hands off, sir, that's my girl."