My Personal Hero

Ch. 1 👊💥💢

'In recent news, our beloved Spiderman has gone missing. Hope for the city has dwindled as crime rates peak. If anyone has present information on the whereabouts of our lost hero please contact us at 1-800-SA-'

"Wow, the city is in a manic huh?" Obviously. I rolled my eyes. "Shut the fuck up, White." I scrutinize the view of my apartment: my divan has mildew taints, the wooden floor is nearly imperceptible beneath the chaos, it smells peculiar and there's no daylight. You are appalling. "Thanks, Yellow!" I bared my teeth as if they could see it.

I'm realizing that I don't want to spend my afternoon in this ghastly hovel. I haven't departed the house since Taco Tuesday Night at Juan's.

I zip up my suit, it's tight-fitting and maintains all my favorite playthings, I check myself out in the mirror just before I start to tie on my boots.

Since the door is deadbolted with Eggos (long story) I decided to jump out of the very functional window. You mean 'we'. "Yeah, sure." I take off, flitting across canopies, and fire escapes. That was until I heard laughter and exclamations. I glimpse below, expecting to discover a gathering of children playing tag, or some youngins feeling child-like, but of course, this is Queens after all.

Oh, poor kid. I want us to help him. Me too. Oh, wait, we can. "Hey!" I plunge from the current roof I had made a hide-out. Shatter your legs to spook them. But you'll frighten the little one. I contemplated it, but they are just juveniles, I grab hold of a railing on my way down and lower the consequence of my free fall. Our free fall. I land well enough, with no broken bones, and address the teenagers surrounding a boy. "What's going on here?"

It's silent, every face is turned to me. All but one. The boy on the ground was against the wall, knees drawn and arms tucked over his head. Fluffy light brown hair is peeking through his fingertips. His bloody fingertips.

"Hey, you alright?" He flinches when I touch my fingers to his arm. His head jeers upward, sunlight capturing every feature. He has pale skin, almost too pale, and almond-brown eyes that are as wide as they can be, and golden, so golden. His eyelashes catch sun-lit rays. The only details I wish I could miss are the bloody lip and bruised cheek. Scraped chin, and pink inflamed skin. His face was mangled, but he was beautiful.

I lower my voice, my mood darkening. "Are they...hurting you?" His bottom lip quakes, "N-No." The boy shakes his head raising a hand to his face. He grabs his hair and tugs it lightly. "Are you lying?" Why would he lie? Doesn't he want help? What's wrong with this kid? "Shut up."

The boy looks up with a confused and frightened look. "Not you, sorry." I stand, hands on my knees as I hoist myself up. I turn around to speak with the group of adolescence. Are we just going to talk to the brick wall then? Of course, they ran. We're Deadpool for crying out loud. Crazy mercenary.

"I-I'm sorry about this. Would you like some money? I-I only have a few dollars but- oh, uh, never mind."

I face the kid once again. His fingers are dancing on his skin, stomping pointy shoes into his reddened cheek. "What is it?" "Oh, n-nothing. Thank you for your help, but I'm okay."

I squint my eyes at him. "Name's Wade." His eyes become galaxies as they expand extensively. "W-Wait that's your real name? Like, the one you were born with? Wow, I can't believe this! What did you do before this? Or were you born this way? Were you-"

I cover his lips with my glove, "Shhh. Calm." With pink cheeks, he apologizes. "You're good, kid. What's your name?" "I-I'm Peter." "Nice to meet you, Peter, were those kids hurting you?" "I-I guess so, but I deserve it so it's not a big deal, sorry that sounds weird."

"It does a little." I laugh lightly through my concern. "How about I take you home?" "Oh, no, that's alright, I'm close anyway." He's so cute. He's a child. We're a kid too dumb ass. "How old are you?" Every time I ask a question I notice a shocked expression and wide eyes. "I'm 17." We're the same age. See? Told you.

"Oh, cool. Well, I'll see you. Hopefully." He doesn't smile. He does something else. He emits pure sunshine, he hinders time, he brightens this gloaming alley, he does everything and anything, but he doesn't just smile. Wow. Wow. "Wow." "Hm?"

"Oh, what, I didn't say anything." I think we have a crush. But we don't even know him. We will.

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I'm sorry, I know this is cringe BUT Peter is beautiful 😭 and you guys can imagine whichever spidey you want. Of course, this is going off of the relationship from the comic but it will be based on the movies in some aspects (like Tony is Peter's caretaker and Peter is in Highschool.)