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"Goodnight, Mads!" You yell, smiling slightly at the old lady as you walk through the doors of the diner you've been working at for almost six months. It was a cute little place; brightly colored and always a great place to spend time with friend. Madison's Diner may have been an ideal place to go on a Friday night with family if it weren't for it's poor location.
The diner is smack bang in the middle of the worst part of the city, with drug lords and criminals littering almost every nook and cranny of the streets. You had talked to Mads - the kind old woman who owns the diner, about this but she had just waved a hand at you saying that nothing would ever happen to someone her age and that if you ever found yourself in trouble to just use the can of pepper spray that she had supplied me with. You both know that it's necessary for a girl of your age to carry around a can of pepper spray.
The job was nothing serious. It was mostly an emotional attachment that you had to the kindly lady who owns the diner rather than the money that you earn. You still live with your family seeing as you aren't of the legal age to move out–not that you necessarily wanted to just yet. If you were being completely honest, you didn't even know what salary you got.
You pull your dark jacket tight around your body, shivering due to the breeze that passes through the street as you start your journey home. On any other day you'd be leaving from work at an earlier time and in a car, but that wasn't an option for you tonight. You sigh, glancing down at the time on you phone. 2:30 am. It's not smart of you to walk back to your apartment so late at night, but what other choice do you have?
Every little noise or movement makes you jump, speeding up your pace as you round a corner. It doesn't really help that the dark terrifies you as it is and you've never actually had to walk home this late.
You quickly glance behind you, surprising yourself as you catch sight of a man walking suspiciously behind you. You avoid looking at the man, your eyes trained on the dark gravel beneath your feet. You wince as your shoulder hits a pole, stopping in your tracks involuntarily to inspect the forming bruise on your arm. The thought of the man flees to the back of your mind for only a matter of seconds.
A violent hand on your shoulder yanks you away from the footpath and throws you against a brick wall to the side of the pavement. The contact with the building sends shock-waves through your spine causing you to shiver in slight pain. The man's breath reeks of alcohol and cigarettes, his dirty lips pulled back into a snarl.
"You're a pretty one, eh?"
You struggle against his grip, not a single word falling from your lips. His eyes fall to your fallen bag, his hold on you not faltering even the slightest. The man opens his mouth to speak.
"Th–"
Before he can finish his sentence, the man is yanked right off of you. He falls to the ground in front of you, wiping at his bottom lip. Your eyes move to the figure towering above him. Spider-Man.
"Has no one ever taught you any morality rules?" Spider-Man spits. It was a foreign sound coming from him; more serious than what the people of Queens usually hear from the webslinger.
Spider-Man looks to you, holding out a hand to pull you away from the wall. You stand behind him once you've picked up your bag.
The man lets out a frustrated yell as Spider-Man shoots out his webs, taping him to the wall that you were standing against moments ago.
Spider-Man places his arm tightly around your waist, pulling you a safe distance away from where you were attacked. His shaky hands find their way to your shoulders. You wondered why he seemed so scared–so worried.
Neither of you spoke a word, the both of you lost in thought.
About an hour before you had left the diner, your best friend Peter Parker had offered to walk you home. Sure, you didn't really think Peter would really have been able to do much in a situation like that but it still would have been much safer.
"Thank you." You breath out, taking your shaking lip in between your teeth.
"It's no problem, really." He replies, "It's what I do."
Your eyebrows furrow; his posture and composition and his voice sounds exactly like–
"Peter?!"
"Yes–wait what?" Spider-Man stutters, his arms flailing by his sides. You raise an eyebrow at him, sticking your hip out and resting your hand on it.
"I know it's you, idiot." You smile. "Don't even bother denying it."
Peter sighs, scratching the back of his neck. It was honestly one of the angriest he's ever been while dealing with muggers on patrol and it was all because it was you who was the victim. Ever since the start of last year, you had stolen Peter's heart and kept it prisoner in your pocket without even knowing. It was the same vice-versa.
You'd had your suspicions that Peter was the infamous Spider-Man but you had never really thought twice about it. Peter Parker? The thought baffled you. But now? Knowing that he's Spider-Man has made you even more proud of your favorite boy.
"I got scared, you know." Peter admits, "I was scared something would happen to you. I mean I knew that I wouldn't let that happen but I was still so scared."
"Peter–"
"Can I tell you something, Y/N?" He pulls you towards him, his strong arms wrapping around you.
"Of course."
Peter couldn't hold it in much longer. He had chickened out and waited long enough. Something about the Spider-Man suit made him ten times more confident than his usual. Even though he had become so comfortable with you over the past few years, this scared him beyond words. Peter was scared that you wouldn't feel the same–scared that he'd mess up what you already had. But he had no idea you felt the same.
"I'm in love with you," He blurts, "I have been since last year. When you fell off of my study desk in my bedroom."
To say you were caught off guard would be an understatement. You stay silent, still taking time to let his words sink in. Even though you already knew your answer, Peter managed to take your silence the wrong way.
"I understand if you don't–"
You cut him off, stepping into him and pulling his mask up to his nose. Your lips find their way to his, moving against them softly yet still passionately. The both of you could feel the kiss throughout your bodies, your grip on each other tightening.
"I love you too, Peter." You mumble against his lips.
You feel him smile against you before he pulls away. Peter pulls you in for a tight hug, burying your face in his chest. He pulls his mask back down after leaving you with another few kisses before he shoots his webbing at the roof of a nearby building.
Peter drops you off outside your home, leaving you with one last kiss.
