Tom Holland/ Peter Parker Imagines

A New Outlook// Peter

Write about a time when a simple moment with someone has given you a new outlook on life.

The literal fuck? I practically growled as I threw my hands into my hair and started to slowly pull out my own hair.

A moment that gave me a life lesson? How about the moment when I thought I could pass AP English because damn, I was so wrong.

A small tap on my window that was barely loud enough to hear over my music in the background, pulled me and my eyes away from the possible paper that was due at midnight.

Peter Parker, well more like Spiderman with Peter Parker's head was perched out on the railing of my fire escape.

He smiled and made a hand motion for me to come outside.

Sighing and removing my hands from my hair, I closed my laptop and slid it to the side to open my window. Climbing up onto my desk, Peter reached out his hand to help me keep my balance.

Gratefully, taking his hand, I swung my legs over the windowsill and planted them firmly onto the rickety fire escape.

Peter chuckled and removed his hand from mine only to be placed back on top of my head, "Rough paper?"

He smoothed my hair out as I answered him with the most frustrated/ teeth grinding voice, "Rough paper. Rough day. Rough week. Rough fucking life." I threw my hands up and rubbed my eyes, "Life changing moment with someone? I'm sixteen years old. I haven't lived long enough to have a life changing experience just based upon a moment."

I turned away from him and leaned my elbows on the railing, pulling my sweater sleeves down to cover my hands, protecting them from the cool September air, I tried to search my brain for a moment I can write about.

"Can't you just make it up?" Peter joined me by my side.

Covering my face with my hands, I shook my head, "No, we have to present to the class and then take questions and answers them on the spot. It's gotta be real."

Peter took a few tiny steps closer to me to throw his arm over my shoulders, he then rubbed my arm as I leaned into his side.

We stood there in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Peter had to ruin it. "I told you to drop."

I backed away just to hit him in the shoulder, along with a disheartening, "shut up", and going back to wrap my arms around his waist.

He rubbed my back and rested his chin on the top of my head, searching though his own memories to see if he can help me in anyway.  "Well, I got an idea. You're probably going to hate it-"

"No," I bluntly cut him off. "There is no way I'm writing about that."

Peter pulled away from the hug and furrowed his eyebrows down at me, "Why not? Everyone knows it happened, don't you think it's time for your side of the story?" He retracted a few steps to hop back up onto the railing.

"Yeah, because a high school English essay is a great way to talk about the time Spiderman saved me from my own home that went up in flames from arsonists that was actually targeting my mom just because she's a biochemist,"
I shook my head and leaned back against the wall, "I was planning to save it for my college essays."

That incident is the whole reason to why I now live on the same floor in the same apartment complex as Peter, along with the reason to why I know who Spiderman is.

"No way, I'm not having people pity me even more," I crossed my arms over my stomach and threw my head back against the brick wall.

With my eyes closed, I could hear Peter hop off of the rusting railing and make the short distance to me. He placed both of his hands next to my head on the wall.

"People don't pity you," Peter stated.

I leaned my head back down and opened my eyes, "It's been over a year and every time I leave the building random people are just giving me looks of grief." I tighten the grip I had on my arms, "It's been over a year and these people still remember what I freaking look like from all the newspaper articles and new stories on practically every channel ever. I mean, I even made World News. Yay me."

"Y/N, no one pities you, they're proud of you," Peter sighed, losing the harsh gaze in his eyes, "Those people set your house on fire, trying to ruin your mom's life research and to try and burn her alive along with the work. And when they realized it was you in the house instead of your mom, they thought their plan worked out even better, but you proved them wrong."

His hands slid from the rough wall to my cheeks, his thumb rubbing my cheekbones as he continued to talk in this soft and calming tone that was absolutely amazing to hear, "You were and are so smart. You shoved as much of her papers as possible into the fire proof case and used your floor lamp to break your window. You didn't need my help. Only thing I did was give you a soft landing as you were about to jump out of a second story window."

His forehead was now pressed to mine and his voice was barely audible, "If you can't see how much you have changed since that night, then you truly are blind."

"Blind to what?" I obliviously ask.

Peter didn't answer me, he just shut his brown eyes for a few second before leaning forward and covering those last few inches between us.

When his lips kissed mine, a lightbulb went off in my head. Peter liked me. No wonder he took no time at all to tell me who he really was, and why he wanted to be so close. This boy is a freaking genius.

I unwrapped my arms and rewrapped them around his neck as his hands slid down to my waist.

"I'm still not writing my essay about it," I whispered, moving to kiss his jawline.

Peter let a moan pass though his lips and said, "You know, you could write about making out with Spiderman instead."
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And that's when I decided this part truly sucked, and I deeply apologize for it. I just had to end it. 🙃