You finally worked up the nerve to turn back around and look up at the man who held your wrists hostage.
All you could manage was to stammer his name.
"Q-Quentin." You took a deep breath, attempting to respond without showing how affected you were...
//AN: Part Six and Part Seven (especially) are somewhat fillers.
I'll be doing the whole plot fix I planned to do months ago for next Friday after I rewatch Far From Home, because my story right now is not following the movie plot and it's bothering me.
So until then please enjoy these two blah chapters cx
I'm also adding a new chapter to my (Pennywise/Henry Bowers x Reader) fanfic, A Penny For Your Thoughts. There are currently eight chapters! //
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Come.
Come you must. Come you didn't.
You really hated Peter for his lack of apprehension for words with double meanings.
Even now he still hadn't grasped the connotation with which Quentin Beck slyly murmured the word to you. He simply craned his neck around the man's broad shoulders to peek at your expression, wondering whether you'd accept the invitation to go to the bar with them.
So much for his spidey sense.
Your face was beet red and the innocent teenage boy simply could not understand why.
These hormones would be the death of you.
"No. I won't COME!" You gritted your teeth and attempted to back away from Quentin.
In the process of doing so you had seemed to have forgotten that you were literally right on the edge of the roof.
So you fell.
All air left your body and you couldn't even scream.
"(Y/N)!" Peter called out. He shot a web but it was a little too off to your side.
Gwen Stacy who?
You closed your eyes.
So this would be how you met your end. Falling off a roof in front of two flying enabled superheroes.
Just as you felt the air rushing faster, the ground sucking you in like a vortex - two strong hands carried you up bridal style.
Relief washed over you.
Then you cringed at the realization that it was the one and only Mysterio who had just saved you from your impending doom.
"Do you want to die or something (Y/N)?" His voice met your ears. He was saying it like a joke but there was a gruffness to it - a how dare you embedded into his words. As if you choosing death was an attack on him.
"Like you wouldn't believe," you retorted. "Not so soon though."
He chuckled in response, the gruffness in his voice softening.
His chuckle vibrated through his chest and you felt yourself curling closer to it as a reflex. As soon as you noticed what you had done you blushed harder and tried to wiggle out of his hold.
"Whoah, whoah there (Y/N). We're not on the ground yet." Quentin warned, keeping you pressed against his chest with his stronger hold.
You frowned down at Peter who was already off the roof.
"Nice aim." You glowered.
He laughed nervously, "Sorry but good thing Quentin's here!"
While you couldn't see Quentin's face you could picture the smug look on his face.
A foot away from the ground you quickly jumped out of his hold and rolled onto the cobblestone below.
"Aren't you going to say thank you?"
You turned to look at him and he did have the expression you had imagined.
His smile was wide and his eyes twinkled with amusement.
Like you were some sort of entertainment for him.
You rolled your eyes, "I had it all under control, but thanks I guess."
"So are you going to the bar with us?" Peter met your eyes hopefully.
"No."
You gave both Peter and Quentin one long glare and ran off towards the hotel.
"What got her upset?" Quentin asked Peter with fake concern. As if he didn't know he had just overwhelmed you to the max.
"I don't know," The boy answered. "Sometimes she just needs to take a long hot shower and chill out."
But you needed a cold one.
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