Spider-Man Imagines

Not That Girl (part ten) | Peter Parker (TH)

this part is long + fluffy, so enjoy!

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On the morning of homecoming, you awoke with serious butterflies. Your phone was lighting up with a text message on your nightstand as you rolled over, blinked the sleep out of your eyes, and checked the single notification.

Good morning, beautiful!! 😘 I can't wait to see you today. I'll be at your place at seven thirty exactly!!

Your lips broke into a wide grin as you quickly typed back.

Morning. 💓 Can't wait!

Although your move to kiss him at your window was fast and risky, the rest of your relationship had been nothing but shy touches and your normal conversations, only slightly more reserved and careful.

Seconds after your lips left his, Peter slipped out of your window, smiling and blushing, eyes wide and full of adoration and amazement. You shut your window as he moved to cling to the outside of your house.

"Goodnight," you'd whispered, fingers against the glass.

"Night," he gasped, and he slowly moved away, eyes still holding that (slightly crazed) look.

At school, Peter often blushed when he looked at you and struggled to hold his hand out for you. You struggled the exact same way. You wanted to hold his hand, but you were afraid that just maybe he wouldn't want you to touch him.

He hadn't kissed you since the window, but something told you he might at the dance.

In reality, he hadn't kissed you at all, since you had made the first move. You were starting to hate yourself for it. There was nothing worse than thinking your feelings were one sided, and because you had been so used to that feeling, it was easy to go back to it, especially when it was your head that was tilting first and his eyes that were popped open in surprise.

But the kiss brought feelings you didn't know you could have. You felt so adored by Peter when his lips pressed back, so accepted and normal.

You felt like a normal girl, deserving of the love a boy could finally give her.

After breakfast, you and your mother sat down and worked on your hair. You never touched it much, so with a few twists of a curling iron and a few strokes of a straightener, plus a couple of hair products from the bathroom, your hair was tamed and soft.

Your makeup was simple. Just a bit of dark glitter around the eyes, bright red lips, eyebrows evened with a pencil. A few touches of foundation covered any acne and you looked presentable.

"I don't want to look too different," you said. "I don't want Peter to think that I should look like this all of the time, because why should I? It's not me."

Your mother hummed and nodded, dragging the lipstick across your lips for a second coat. "I agree, sweetheart," she said. "But there's nothing wrong with dressing up nice for your boyfriend sometimes. Plus, it'll just make you feel good to feel really beautiful."

You smiled, for once feeling like maybe you were beautiful.

An hour before May and Peter were to show up, your mom helped you into your dress so you wouldn't ruin your hair or makeup she so artfully designed. She yanked it down your hips and smoothed it down your legs, getting out every crease and line. After a lengthy check over, she grabbed your hightops, smiling at your choice of shoes.

"Peter's wearing his, too," you explained.

"Cute," she said.

As you laced them up, she grabbed her phone. "Stand up straight!" she ordered excitedly as you finished your shoes. "I need to get just pictures of you."