PETER PARKER IMAGINES

↬ Summertime

THE WORLD WAS coloured in a gracious filter of golden hues, the sun sending bars of honey in light of your favourite season of all time. The air was warm, the birds chirping and wind chimes singing in the ever so gentle breeze. Everything seemed more alive, ethereal, happier. Especially you: dressed in your summer attire, sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose, your boyfriend's head resting comfortably on your chest as the two of you lay on the calmly swaying hammock in your garden.

You loved everything about summer, just like you loved everything about him. Your love never changed with the seasons, remaining as a sweet constant all throughout the year. His arms would wrap around you no matter the season, his lips pepper kisses along your skin no matter the time, his heart beat for you and with yours no matter the circumstances. It was the best kind of love, and you hoped with everything you had that it would always remain that way.

His chocolate curls tickled at your neck as you ran your fingers through the strands, smiling softly as he slung his arm over your waist and began to lightly trace patterns onto your skin. You pressed your lips to his hair affectionately, humming quietly when you heard him call out your name in hushed whispers, "(Y/N)?"

He lifted his head, warm eyes peering down at you with a lazy smirk, "You know you love me?"

You pushed your sunglasses from your face, narrowing your eyes over at him, "Depends on what you want, Parker."

His fingers absentmindedly intertwined themselves with yours, his other hand coming up to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear - the palm of his hand cradling your cheek with his gentle touch. The act of sweet affection made your heart feel full with timeless love for the boy in front of you, your eyes softening and your head tilting to the side to press a lingering kiss to the palm of his hand.

He watched you with endearment, wondering how he managed to get someone like you to be his. Then, his arms were around your body and you were pulled onto his lap. Your arms wound themselves around his neck loosely, a smile lifting your cheeks upwards with angelic intent - completely forgetting that he was up to something.

His wide, round eyes were looking up at you, his lips forming the shape of an innocent pout as he spoke his wishes, "Can we please, pretty, pretty please, go to Delmar's?"

You threw your head back with a groan, glancing up at the blue sky and almost considering it because how could you say no to him?

"Peter, we just had lunch." You brought your gaze back to him, shifting in his lap so your legs were either side of him and you could squish his cheeks with both of your hands. He didn't bat your hands away. Instead, letting out a soft chuckle as you continued with a whine, "Also, it's too hot to move."

His fingers clasped around your wrists and pulled your hands away so he could speak clearly, his voice raised an octave with excitement and his eyes shining, "What if I swing us there?!"

"You'd want to put that suit on in this weather? It's like the pits of hell out here." You deadpanned, your head tilting to the side.

"You would know what the pits of hell are like," He muttered, the pout of his lips returning childishly.

You blinked, your lips forming a straight line at his words. Then, you lifted yourself from his lap and off the hammock, pulling yourself away from his hands that began to move in a grabby motion to try and get you back in his arms and his voice that let out a whine, "No, (Y/N), come back. I'm sorry, I love you!"

You started to walk back into your house, ignoring his calls and swiftly glancing over your shoulder with an amused grin that you couldn't wipe from your features despite how hard you tried to feign anger, "I guess you're going to Delmar's by yourself."

You turned back, unsuspecting of Peter sneaking up behind you as you walked up the garden path to your house. You'd almost reached the door when you felt an arm wrap around your waist and tug you back, expeditiously lifting your body up and onto his shoulder with ease in one fell swoop.

"Peter!" You let out a squeal, joyous laughing spilling from your lips in gasping breaths as you grasped the back of his shirt desperately.

The boy beneath you was giggling attentively, his arms keeping you secure as he began to walk out your garden gate and down the path to your favourite sandwich shop. "I won't drop you, (Y/N), I'm Spiderman," He spoke innocently and with reassurance as you rested your elbow on the middle of his back and your chin on the palm of your open hand.

"I know you won't. Spiderboy has strength," You muttered, a grin lighting up your features despite your current predicament.

"Spiderman," He whined childishly, and you could practically see the pout of his lips and furrow of his eyebrows in your mind as the name of his alias left his lips.

"Yeah, yeah," You rolled your eyes with a snicker, although thankful that the two of you had finally arrived as he gently put you down; the blood had been beginning to rush to your head.

Once your feet were placed firmly on the pavement below and the world was tipped the right way up, your hands came up and patted at both of his cheeks with a sweet smile that reminded Peter of everything lovely. "More like pretty boy." You teased, however, your eyes were warm and soft and the pet name falling from your lips felt so fitting and adorable.

His cheeks instantly heated up at the innocent pet name, his pale skin blossoming with hues of reds under your hands that cupped his cheeks. He gave you a shy smile, his eyes warm and loving and he had to gently take your hand and tug you into the cool sandwich shop to take the attention from his blushing self.

You followed behind him, a bright smile displayed across your pink lips and your eyes dotted with flecks of utter adoration for him. Your pretty boy, radiant in the gracious light of summertime, like an angel.