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dean-the-smol-bean · 6 years

Text

Daydreams

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Characters: Peter Parker, reader, Aunt May, Tony Stark (briefly mentioned)

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Peter is eager to come home and talk to you after a run in with a particularly snappy super hero-ed girl

Warnings: cursing, canon-typical violence, stupid lovesick puppies

A/N: me: hey anyone wanna read this Everyone: doesnt respond literally at all Me: cool i wrote 3 chapters already here you go Everyone: what the fuck

anyways. NOT a supernatural fic- wow! who am I! i just love peter parker and i got a burst of inspiration, ok. I’ve wanted to branch out in the fic world for a while and i finally did. I hop ya’ll enjoy. You can find what i imagine mystery super-girl to be wearing here. Also, special thanks to @justawaywardwinchester and @tom-parkers-girl for giving me feedback!

Send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list!

Read the rest of the series here. - not yet, soon.

The city was bustling- blaring horns of taxi cabs, a man standing at a rolling stand calling out in advertisement of his two hot dogs for the price of one, a busy business man cursing at a tourist as they bumped into him, distracted by the lights. It was always like this- the city that never sleeps. Lately, however, Peter had felt like he was staying up with it. With all the responsibilities of a pseudo-Avenger paired with trying to survive an even harder battle, sophomore year of high school, his hours of rest were numbered.

This, however, often made up for it. Peter could feel the cool, evening New York air push through his suit and run through his hair- how Mr. Stark got this thing to be both bullet proof and breathable, he’d never know. He let out an involuntary laugh as he swung himself around the corner of an old apartment building, floating aimlessly through the air for just a moment before stretching his arm out again, attaching to the much sleeker, shining office building just across the street. He could hear the uneven sounds of people exclaiming and pointing from below as he practically flew by.

He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for. He’d taken down a couple of petty-crime criminals, helped a little girl get her cat out of a tree, and pointed a couple of Japanese tourists in the direction of time square, albeit with a little confusion.

But now he was a bit lost. Not in the physical location sense, no, he knew these streets like the back of his hand. He’d grown up here, but he had absolutely no idea what he should be doing. He didn’t want to go back to his little room, he’d been cooped up there for the past week studying for an exam, only leaving when absolutely necessary. He couldn’t stand the thought of sitting in his room, alone, with nothing to occupy his thoughts. He hated the feeling of darting his eyes over to his phone every other second, hoping desperately that Mr. Stark had finally sent him a message, or scrolling through the hundreds of unreplied blue boxes of texts that he continued to add to, hoping Happy would finally reply.

But the calls never came, and the texts never buzzed. So now here he was, swinging in mock glee through the streets of Queens against the setting sun, kicking himself for realizing he was hoping to spot some sort of crime.

He yanked his arm forward, twisting his body so that it was propelled upwards by his web, which was attached to the very top of an old, historic apartment complex. He felt his feet touch down on the ledge of brick molding, crouching his whole body down, his fingers just ghosting over the surface of the brick, feather light for how strong of a grip he knew they held. He sighed, leaning backwards and taking a seat, letting his legs swing over the ledge. Scanning his surroundings carefully, he reached up, finally yanking off his mask, thankful for the real rush of air against his bare skin. He ran a hand over his face and through his hair, drinking in the city sunset. He had to admit, it was quite beautiful.

Beautiful, yeah. He could think of a couple other things he’d deem even more beautiful than this.

Well, one thing, in particular.

“Ugh,” he groaned at himself, falling back along the ledge of the building, propping one foot up along it, the other still dangling freely.

God, I’m such an idiot. He thought, and your face flashed behind his eyes. He sighed, covering his face with his arms. But the thought of you persisted, despite his efforts to steady his thumping heart and sweaty palms.

He’d known you for longer than he could remember. Growing up in the apartment two floors below you, your moms (or, aunt, in his part), had become fast friends, both somewhat single parents raising kids in the very same apartment building. Because of that, you found yourselves thrust upon each other, though neither of you ever had any complaints. You got on like a house on fire, clicking immediately, as though it was just meant to be that you were together.

Through everything, you were always there. Though he never told you about his powers- he couldn’t stand the thought of putting you in any danger- you could read him like an open book, and you always found a way to weasel yourself into getting him to open up. Sure, he left some fairly large parts out, but he couldn’t imagine how he’d be getting through it all if not for your perceptiveness and your comforting shoulder to lean on, even if you didn’t fully understand.

Which is why he felt even worse every time he caught himself staring, every time his eyes wandered a little past his textbook and swept over your form with the same natural fluidity that he often swept through the city, every time his mind wandered to you when he had even a moment to let it.

You were his best friend. Practically a sister to him, and he found himself thinking less than brotherly thoughts of you more often than not. He had to get it out of his head, he just had to. Not only because there was no way in a million years that a girl like you would settle for him, but he couldn’t pull you any closer to the danger that followed him everywhere he went than you already were.

Pulled from his melancholic daydreams, Peter felt the hair on his arms stick up, like pins poking persistently, alerting him to something across the city. The Sun had nearly set, and the stars and lights of the city began to twinkle softly, but the bustle of the city didn’t cease. Off in the distance, he could feel himself being pulled towards something, and just as he thought, he watched as a bright boom of golden orange light pulsed on the edge of the city, like an explosion. Well, exactly an explosion.

He yanked his mask back on fervently, pushing himself up and off of the top of the building, launching himself towards the chaos.

In minutes, he was there, and he landed gracefully atop a nearby shop, just across the street from the source of the explosion.

It had come from a downtown bank, one of the few that stayed open later into the night, and Peter held his breath as he watched the small crowd of six or seven people cower in the corner of the fluorescent lit bank.

He watched as the men circled a large opening in the wall, one that Peter assumed to have been caused by the explosion. They’d used it to bust open the door to the vault. Curiously, though, they held one of the hostages at gunpoint, away from the rest. That on its own wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary given the circumstances, but it was the hostage herself that made Peter double take.

She looked kind of like… well, a superhero. It was odd- she was wearing what seemed to be a faux leather jumpsuit, reminding him of what Black Widow had been wearing when he saw her at the airport fight. Just like hers, it looked as though it were made for fighting. The biggest thing though was the mask- a strip of black that stretched across the girls face in the style of old, vintage robbers and super heroes, obscuring her face just enough that he couldn’t make out her features.

They were seemingly putting a lot of effort into keeping her contained as well, one big, burly ski-masked man on either side of her, holding her by her forearms, with a third just behind her, a large gun waiting cocked in his grip.

Well, whoever she was, it didn’t matter. She was in danger- everyone there was, and Peter was determined to help them.

He shot out a web to the roof of their building, swinging down and rolling into a standing position on the asphalt below. He carefully slid into the building, holding a quieting finger up to the hostages.

He made a move to lean against the glass window walls of the bank, but stumbled a bit. He quickly regained his composure though, ignoring his misstep.

“You idiots think you’re real clever don’t you? Oh yeah, so brave sicking three huge men on a helpless little girl.” The girl in the mask taunted, Peter still unnoticed by all the robbers.

“Helpless? Please, we know what you can do, freaky bitch,”

Finally, Peter decided that was his que to step in.

“Hey, is that any way to speak to a lady?”

All heads shot to Peter, including that of the masked woman. The man holding the gun behind her groaned.

“First you, now this brat? How many pint sized heroes do we have in this town?”

“Hey,” Peter exclaimed, frowning, “I’m not pint sized!”

Clearly already annoyed, the man raised his gun and pointed it at Peter.

“Nope-!” Peter called, and faster than the man could even pull the trigger, he zapped out a web, grabbing the barrel of the gun with his web and yanking it back like a yo-yo. Just as he did, the girl pushed herself up and back, before slamming her feet back down on the concrete with a loud cracking noise. She threw her arms out, and with them flew the two, 200+ pound men, hurling across the room like they were as light as a pillow, slamming against the wall across the bank.

“Whoa!” Peter exclaimed, grinning under his mask. “That was awesome! How’d you do that?” as he spoke, two more men came through the vault, both carrying large automatic rifles.

“Oops- sorry bud.” Just as before, he whipped the weapons from their hands to his, and he frowned. “You know, you’re really not supposed to have these.”

The first man only growled, barreling forwards towards him, fists bared. Peter tossed the guns to the side, sticking themselves firmly onto the tiled bank lobby floor. Behind the first grunt, the second turned right, bolting towards the masked girl, who was currently ushering the hostages out, behind the chaos.

Peter shot a web into the ceiling above him, yanking himself up just before his attacker swung full force at him, momentum sending him falling forward through the glass wall of the building.

Next, Peter turned towards the mystery girls fight. She reared her arm back to throw a punch, but Peter thought he would take care of her assailant at the source. Swinging himself backwards, he used the extra force to his advantage and leapt forward, intending to body slam into the large man and knock him unconscious.

Just as he was about to barrel through him though, the girl swung her fist, hitting the man square in the jaw, sending him flying backwards, putting the masked girl right in Peters line of motion.

“Look out-!” he yelled, no time to do anything else, but it was too late, and his body slammed against hers, sending them both crashing onto the ground.

They both groaned, Peter laying across her stomach diagonally, both catching their breaths after the air had been knocked out of them.

“Get off,” she cursed, shoving Peter off of her. “What the hell are you doing?” She groaned, and Peter propped himself up on his elbows, frowning.

“Saving you!” he exclaimed, and she rolled her eyes. Behind him, she watched as a man carrying a large, stuffed duffle bag in his arms darted out of the building.

“He’s getting away, you idiot!”

They both pushed themselves upwards with equal speed, sprinting out the front door. The man jumped into the back of a large black truck, tossing the goods inside. He reached for the door handle, yanking the door shut.

“Hey, wait!” Peter yelled, and he shot out a web, grabbing onto the door to stop him from closing it. Just as he did, the man banged twice on the roof of the van, and the engine turned over, peeling out of the bank’s parking lot.

“Wha- whoa-!” the sudden departure yanked Peter by his wrist, and he jolted forward, yelling loudly as the van dragged him down the street.

Before they could get even fifty feet, though, a bright red bolt shot over Peters head, firing into the door of the van and slicing it like butter, leaving a glowing, charred metal scar in its wake. The bolt released peters web from the car, and he ricocheted sideways as they curled around a street corner, flying into the side of a metal dumpster.

Slowly regaining his bearings, he looked up to watch as the girl ran by, discharging the mysterious, fiery lasers seemingly from the palms of her hands, eyes glowing red.

“Whoa,” Peter breathed, and he watched as you fired, once, twice, three more times before the truck disappeared. Your eyes lost their glow, slowly fading to their normal, human iris’, as you cursed loudly.

“What the hell!” she screamed, now marching towards Peter. He scrambled to his feet, holding his hands up in front of him, backing into an alleyway.

“You ruined my whole plan!” She growled, sticking an accusing finger into his chest.

“Ruined? They had you at gunpoint! I saved you!”

“No, you didn’t! I had them right where I wanted them, and you fucked the whole thing up. They got away!”

“Look, I was just trying to-”

“-I know what you were trying to do, okay? But because of you, those assholes got away, and now I’ll have to go after them again.”

“Well- well, wait a minute okay? You clearly care about the city, and- and helping people, and you’ve clearly got some freaky cool powers-” she glared at him “-so, why don’t we, I don’t know, team up? We can take those guys down together!”

She only rolled her eyes.

“Team up? I don’t do ‘teams’, buddy, and definitely not with you.”

“Hey,” he whined, “I promise I won’t swing into you next time.” He bargained, but she turned, making her way through the alley, the sound of police sirens pulling up just around the corner as she left.

“Look, Spider-Boy, I see what you’re trying to sell, but I’m not buying it. Just stay out of my way.”

“SpiderMan” Peter corrected, and she turned, raising an eyebrow at him. He realized then exactly how childish and he sounded, and he cleared his throat, trying to deepen it a bit.

“It’s, it’s SpiderMan.”

She stared at him for a moment, eyes blank and unforgiving.

“Right.” She said in a deadpan tone, and the next thing Peter knew, she’d ducked around the corner, disappearing into the night.

Slowly, Peter slid the window of his bedroom open, creeping in as quietly as he could, the roof still creaking under his weight despite his best efforts. He reached out, giving his bedroom door that last nudge it needed to click shut, before dropping easily to the floor.

He groaned, yanking off his mask and rolling his shoulders.

“Peter, I’m home!”

Aunt Mays voice was muffled through the door, but he could hear her fumbling with the keys, just home from work. Perfect.

He pressed his palm to the center of his chest, and he felt his suit deflate, falling loosely around his form.

He yanked it off, shoving it into its hiding place, along with his mask. He pulled his pajamas on eagerly- both because he was excited to be into a more comfortable set of clothes, but as well as to not arise suspicion when Aunt May inevitable came over and knocked on the door.

He was just pulling on his shirt when, right on cue, she knocked (though it was rather redundant, as she pushed it open as she did so, negating the need to knock.)

“Hi honey! How was your day at school?” He took a seat at his desk, still out of breath.

“Fine,” he nodded, head in the clouds, hoping she didn’t notice the speed of his breath or the sweat covering his body. “it was fine. Nothing much.”

If she noticed, she made no indication that she did, which he was thankful for.

“Well, that’s just fine. You hungry?” She asked, and Peter found himself grinning.

“Starving,” he sighed, and she smiled knowingly.

“Thought you might be. I’ll whip something up. It’ll be ready in about 15- then you can come out and tell me all the fine things that happened at school today.” She teased, and he nodded, still nervous that somehow she would notice something and figure him out, but she simply turned, shutting his door behind her.

Peter let out a relieved breath, finally able to let himself rest for a moment.

He closed his eyes, leaning back in his seat. He sat there for a moment, reveling in the feeling of relaxation, however minimal it was. He was brought from said relaxation quickly though, when his computer lit up, familiar techno ringtone playing, your photo flashing across the blue screen.

‘Y/N Y/L/N: Calling…’

He couldn’t keep himself from smiling as he pressed accept.

“Evening, parker.” Your voice echoed through the speakers, and he felt the last of his nerves calming at its sound.

“Hey, Y/N,” he smiled, leaning forward on his elbow to get more into frame.

“So, how was that Stark internship today?” you asked, and Peter pouted, trying to think of a way to tell you without telling you.

“Eh, it was… alright. I ran into this new girl and she was super pissy. I don’t think she likes me.”

You leaned forward as well, resting your chin on your palm. You were clearly in bed already, propped up on your side with your elbow. Your hair was up in a messy bun, strands falling loosely around your face. Peter found himself wishing he was in that bed with you, laughing and joking next to each other as opposed to two floors down in a separate apartment.

“Awe,” you said, and he shook his head, trying to shake his thoughts away with it. “I’m sorry. Well, it’s her loss.” He felt his ears turn read, and he glanced away, staring at his oversized chess set next to him as if it were the most interesting thing in the whole world.

“What about work? How was your shift?” he asked, averting the conversation from himself and back onto you. He’d much rather talk about you anyways.

“Ugh. Terrible.”

He frowned, stomach turning at your clear displeasure.

“Why? What happened?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Just assholes making everything harder.” You shrugged.

“I’m sorry. Looks like we both had shitty days.”

You laughed.

“Tell me about it. Just another reason to believe we’re somehow psychically connected.”

Peter laughed, and just like that, it was like the earlier night had never happened. He forgot all about the guy who got away, and the angry fire-girl, and he lost himself in the sound of your laugh, and the way that you spoke. He could listen to you for hours- and sometimes, he would. Whether you were spending the night, leaning over top bunk of his bed and whispering midnight thoughts down into his tired ears, or pixelated in his screen, using up all his battery life and talking into the wee hours in the morning, headphones in and whispering delicately so as not to wake up your parents.

Before he knew it, Aunt May was peeking her head back into his room, the smell of pasta and his favorite sauce drifting from the kitchen. He hadn’t even noticed.

“Oh, Y/N, hi!” Aunt May grinned when she saw Peters screen, pushing the door open so that she could step into his room, leaning over his shoulder to smile at you, waving.

You waved back.

“Hi, Aunt May. How was your day?”

She smiled, pressing her hand to her chest.

“Oh, it was lovely, thanks for asking dear!”

You grinned, hugging your pillow comfortably.

“That’s good to hear! What brings you to this my humble skype call, Mrs. Parker?”

She pressed her lips together, placing a hand on Peters shoulder.

“Well, I hate to break up the party, but I’ve come to steal my dear Peter for dinner. He’s got plenty of wild and exciting things to tell me from his wondrous day at school.”

You laughed, knowing full well that nothing happened at school today, and Peter had probably given her a quick, undetailed response when she’d ask how his day had gone.

“I’m sure. Well, have a good dinner!”

She grinned, pressing her fingers to her lips and blowing you a kiss.

“Only cause you asked. See you, hun!”

Peter glanced up at his aunt as she turned to leave.

“Be right there.” He whispered, and Aunt May nodded, trying to hide the knowing smile from her face as she turned towards the door.

“Well, you heard the lady. I gotta’ go.”

You smiled softly at him, yawning.

“Well, don’t keep her waiting. Go ‘head. Night, Pete.”

Peter watched as you settled softly into your bed. He could tell you were exhausted- he imagined you might fall asleep right then and there before you even ended that call.

He smiled, drinking in your features despite having just seen you only a few hours ago, on your way home from school.

“Night, Y/N,”

The call cut off in the middle of your wave goodbye, and your tired face was replaced with your Skype avatar.

Somehow, after all that interacting, Peter still found himself counting the minutes until he’d see you again tomorrow morning.

You waved goodbye, watching as Peter reached forward and ended the call. The screen went dark, and you closed your laptop, rolling over onto your back.

You stared up at the ceiling, sighing deeply.

You pressed your hand over your heart, pounding like a drum. Your palms were sweaty, and you wondered if he could tell you were staring over the video call, or if the low quality somehow masked the absolute heart eyes that you couldn’t keep from gluing to his features- his eyes, his jaw, his lips- everything.

“God, I am so fucked,”

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