Spider-Man Imagines

Here, Hold This | Peter Parker (TH)

hey. i took a tiny break from wattpad bc 1) i'm getting sick, 2) i've lost a good amount of readers bc spider-man hype is clearly going down, 3) my writer's block is killer, and 4) i haven't slept much at all in days.

hopefully i can get back on track here and finish these fall requests. but let me remind those of you that sent me messages demanding me to tell you when i think your request will be up: please stop. just please stop. i'm not going to argue with anyone about it & i'm just gonna mute those of you that are demanding. it's rude and i'm struggling enough as it is.

combined 2 requests; scenario 33 as requested by AmazingDansepticeye and Brookechook007.

//

"It's going to be in the forties all this week," your mother said at the same time you glanced at the television screen that had a giant 43°F under today - Sunday. "Make sure you wear your coat, okay, sweetie? I'm going to turn the heat on. It's cold already."

You shrugged. "Eh. It's not so bad."

"Not so bad?" she asked. She shivered dramatically. "Brr! You need another vacation down south to remind you of what real warm is. Sunny beaches, warm, breezy nights... yes please."

You smiled. "Then let's plan a vacation." You got off the couch and grabbed your purse, reading the text message that just popped up on your screen. "Peter's here."

"Oh? Are you dating the boy yet?"

"No," you said, but you smiled warmly.

"What's with the grin then?"

"I don't know," you said, slipping the strap of your purse over your shoulder. "Maybe he likes me. I hope he does."

"I saw the way he looked at you when we ran into him at the grocery store," she said. "He likes you."

You had to look away; you were embarrassed of how big your smile was. You had had a crush on Peter for years, and by some sort of miracle, he started liking you back. It was something you'd only dreamed, wished, and prayed for. Someone thinking you're as amazing as you think they are.

"I gotta go," you said. "He's waiting outside."

"He doesn't want to meet me?"

"Maybe next time, Mom," you said. "He's sort of awkward."

She laughed. "Alright then. I'll see you tonight for dinner. Homemade pizza night!"

"Okay," you said, going to the door. "Bye, love-"

"Coat, sweetie!" your mother scolded.

"It doesn't go with my outfit, mom," you hissed, gesturing down to the thin, long sleeved shirt, leggings, and boots you wore. The shirt looked good with your hair, which made your eyes look big, which made your eyelashes look dark, which made your lips look full. If you glanced in the mirror, you could almost believe you looked perfect.

"Oh, of course," your mom said sarcastically. She crossed her arms and shook her head. "Put your coat on, ___-"

"Gotta go, sorry!" you sang, opening the door and shutting it quickly behind you.