Marvel Imagines

Late Night Coffee Shop Conversations (Peter Parker *TASM* X Reader)

A/N: The title sucks, but I like this. Enjoy! (Also: I'm not dead!)

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You've always been one to pay close attention to people - individuals.

Which, I guess is only natural in the job you've been working for as long as you can remember - being a Barista for your Mom's parent's business, to which she inherited after they passed all those years ago.

You don't mind your job one bit, in fact, you rather enjoy your job.

But on slow nights like these, with the relentless rain pouring down from the heavens and drenching the New York City streets, you can't help but yearn to be doing anything but waiting to serve the next disgruntled customer that might wander in at any moment.

"Lynda could've easily taken this shift. It's not like her cat can be in that much danger without her around for the second time this week," You mutter bitterly, wiping down the countertop behind where you stand, frowning slightly at the stain beginning to form.

I wonder what's been causing-

However, the familiar sound of the doorbell jingling pulls you from your thoughts, signaling that indeed, another newcomer has wandered their way into your small little coffee shop, no likely seeking some warmth.

Your head raises to meet the customer, a cheery smile automatically tugging at your lips, regardless of how worn out and bored you're feeling.

But when your gaze meets a pair of all too familiar warm brown eyes, your forced customer service smile instantly drops and a genuine grin takes over.

"Now what are you doing wandering the streets on this dreary night?" You tease knowingly, a chuckle escaping the person in front of you.

"Oh, you know, the usual," Comes the reply, his cheeky grin making a heat rise to your cheeks, your hands fumbling with the cup you went to grab.

"The usual consisting of," You pause, hand hovering over the warm coffee pot, gaze scanning the pretty much empty seating area before resting on Peter Parker once more, voice dropping into a whisper. "Spider-Man stuff?"

"Obviously," He nods, gesturing to a dried and crusted over cut on his forehead you hadn't noticed before - it had been hidden by his blood-matted hair.

You're taken aback momentarily - the cut looks deeper than the ones he usually comes to you with, though you look past it, thankful that at least the bleeding had stopped for the time being.

"Pete... that looks like it should need stitches," You warn, pouring the coffee into the cup and grasping it by the handle, rounding the counter and nearing Peter's side.

"I'll be fine," He mumbles, wincing slightly as you raise your free hand to brush aside the remainder of his hair. "It just needs a cleaning and then it'll be all good."

"You sure?"

The only answer you get is a soft smile on his paling features, his body moving towards you slightly, a hand ghosting over your cheek.

And that's when you notice his shivers, his fingertips trembling upon your skin.

"Your stuff is in the back where you left it last time," You breathe, resisting every urge to shift yourself closer to him and place your lips on his like you have so many other times before.

He sighs softly, almost in annoyance, no likely realizing in his muddled thoughts that now isn't the time nor the place.

So instead, he nods silently as you leave his side, setting his coffee down at the usual booth the pair of you sit at, before wandering back behind your counter to grab some sweets you know will get him back up and going for the rest of the evening.