Peter Parker ▹ Spider-Man | imagines

time

Warning: mature language and content
third person
word count: 6,960
5:13 pm | there is always a risk being with spiderman — risks that can get you killed

There was a calmness in the air, one that you didn't hate.

Normally, the silence would have killed you. You hated the quiet, the calm. But at the moment, you were sitting in it and you were enjoying it.

Your hands were in the air, and you were shaking them furiously. You had spent the entire afternoon writing an analysis essay for your advanced placement language and composition class. Your teacher had requested it handwritten, and the minimum requirement was six paragraphs. You were dying, and you hands were aching.

Time always had been against you. You had other work to finish, but your essay was more important. You thought your first kiss would be with your super-hot football-star boyfriend your first year of college, but Peter Parker came into your life. You thought you'd have to deal with worrying about when your significant other would come home when you were married to a hunky police officer you met when you fell off a ladder hanging banners in city hall, but then Spiderman was your lover. Either time was speeding things up or fate was against you.

You wouldn't change it for anything in the world, though. You were sixteen and forced to grow up with Peter at your side, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. You had learned too much, you were too far in, and you had Queens' favorite superhero at your service. You knew what it meant to be with Peter. You knew the risks.

The mask fell out of Peter's hands, and your eyes were already fresh with tears. The moment they fell, Peter was catching them with his gloved fingers, murmuring.

"No, no, no, no, please don't cry," he whispered. You whimpered in his palms, shaking your head as you tried to catch your breath.

"You're...you're..." You couldn't even finish speaking. You couldn't understand, you didn't understand, you didn't want to believe. But Peter was right in front of you, in a red and blue suit, the same one you had seen in all the pictures and all the videos.

"God, I wanted to tell you...I wanted to tell you so bad...Please believe me, I wanted to tell you, please, y-you were the first person—"

You placed your palms over his; he was holding your face, and he had tears running down his face as well. He was worried and panicked and afraid. You were the most important person in his life besides his family, and he couldn't lose you. He wouldn't lose you.

"(y/n)...you can hate me for the rest of my life, you can hate me, but you can't...you can't tell anyone. Please. You can leave, and I'll never bother you again...I'll never bother you, just promise me you'll keep my secret," he begged. The words were like fire coming out of his mouth. He hated them. He wanted to hit himself for saying them, but he knew he couldn't force you to do anything you didn't want to.

"Peter, I..." You couldn't speak. You couldn't find the words. You wanted to hate Peter for not telling you, you wanted to hit him over and over again. But this was still Peter, this was still the teenage boy you were falling for. And as secretive as he seemed to be, his heart was still in the right place. And you couldn't break it, you wouldn't. It was not your nature to be a heartbreaker.

You leaned in, closing off the space between the two of you. Peter sobbed into the embrace, the kiss a welcomed reaction to his worry. The suspense was violent in his belly, and now it was calm. He kissed you with a gentleness you hadn't felt before. The kiss tasted like the saltiness of both your tears, but you didn't care. You wanted Peter to know that the secret might've made the situation more complicated, but it didn't change the way you felt about him. Nothing ever would. He was still your Peter, and you were still his girl. You didn't have a way with words, and a kiss could speak a million.