READER IMAGINES [1]

Peter Parker x Reader

Was this a request? No. But the idea sprung to me and I felt like writing so, hey... it's better than not updating at all, right?

Please enjoy.

(you can imagine whatever version of Peter you want for this imagine - I don't specify)

Word count: 799

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The rain poured outside. It was getting worse. After each crack of thunder you swore the rain sounded louder. It dripped down your bedroom window with a twinkling sound that made the harsh storm seem almost relaxing.

You were sitting on your bed reading a book, when you felt eyes on you. Eyes from outside. Turning your head, you saw a red and blue figure standing outside your window looking at you. You already knew who it was, but you had to ask yourself what he was doing here.

Standing up and walking over to your window to open it, you looked at your friend who was standing in the rain looking like he had been rejected.

"Come here." You said softly, waving him over.

He acted almost immediately, but he was slow to approach you. When he reached your window you put your arms around his shoulder and lead him through your window inside your bedroom. Once he was inside you noticed that he didn't have his mask on.

He was soaked. Water dripped from his hair onto the floor and made a puddle at his feet. He only stared at the ground while you closed the window.

"You're drenched."

You reached over to touch his face and tilt his head up gently to meet his gaze. Only now did you see the tears in his eyes. They pooled down his cheeks, but he never sobbed.

"It's ok." You assured him, rubbing your hands up and down his arms, "You're ok."

You wanted to know what made him so upset. You wanted to know why he didn't have his mask on, or why he was standing in the rain, or why he came to you. You wanted to help him, but you knew better than to ask.

"Let me get you a towel."

As you turned to leave his hand reached out and grabbed yours. The sudden interaction made you turn around to face him and he squeezed your hand. He still was looking down at the floor, but you could tell that he hadn't stopped crying.

"I'm going to be right back." You whispered.

He didn't let go. He didn't look at you. The rain was still pouring outside.

"Peter... let me help you."

His thumb brushed against your skin and then he let go. You quickly grabbed a towel from the laundry and one of your father's work shirts that laid there, then you walked back into your bedroom to see that Peter hadn't moved.

"Come on."

You took his hand in yours and led him around your bed so that he wasn't next to the window anymore. Your fingers touched his chest and you asked him to undress himself. He slowly did so, luckily wearing a pair of boxers underneath, and you gave him the shirt to put on.

When he was clothed you started to dry him off with the towel. You started by drying his arms, then you placed the towel on his head to dry his hair. After a few gentle shakes you moved the towel away and brushed his cheek with your fingers.

He had stopped crying, but tears still lingered in his eyes. His once distant façade was now replaced with pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows. You tried to comfort him by running your fingers through his damp hair.

"You don't have to tell me. You don't have to say anything."

Peter, for the first time since he entered your bedroom, sobbed. Tears spilled down his cheeks again and when you were about to tell him that it was ok, he leaned forward and hugged you.

His arms wrapped around you and his face buried between your neck. You could already feel his tears on your skin and with a few of your own, you hugged Peter back. Almost immediately he tightened his hold on you as if you were going to fade away from him if he didn't.

He clung onto you like nothing else mattered. There was just you and him.

Your fingers brushed through his hair and you kissed the top of his head. There was no use in saying anything else; Peter knew you were there for him. You brushed your hands down his arms and pulled away to look at him. Then you held his hand and led him over to your bed.

You let him lie down first and then you lied down behind him, nuzzling yourself into his back with your arms wrapped around him. One hand of his held your pillow underneath his head and the other intertwined with your fingers over his chest.

You still didn't know what made your Spider-Man so upset, but at least you knew you could comfort him.

At least you knew that Peter trusted you.

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Next Imagine: an actual request