Peter Parker Imagines - t.h

// rain //

// rain // 
word count: 1816 
"PETER BENJAMIN PARKER! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE!"

You're waiting. Your pillow-stacked bed was untouched and perfectly made, as it was the night before, and the night before that. It had been for quite some time, having to be the longest you've ever gone without sinking into your mattress. Sure, you were tired, but your mind was wide awake. You were convinced that all of New York City, as the city that never sleeps, had moved into your brain–or perhaps that was just the sleep deprivation getting to you.

The rain outside was beating to a gentle rhythm against your unlocked window, almost turning into a lullaby to lure you into a well-needed sleep. You forced to open your drooping eyelids, ignoring the noticeable black bags beneath your eyes as you glanced at the full-length mirror to your right. In that, your eyes trailed off to the reflection of the window. A singular lamppost shone a bright light through the glass–alone in the dreadful weather.

You gazed longingly at that window as if you were waiting for something to happen there. You were sat on the floor of your bedroom, staring at the dark and wet world you were living in. But you were waiting for something else, other than the rustling of the trees in the wind or the sudden crash of rain to attack your home.

You were waiting for your boyfriend, Peter. The boy who stuttered his way into your heart and stole it by distracting you with science puns, and you didn't mind. You hadn't seen him in a few days, apparently, Peter was in Germany. When you asked him why he was, you'd never thought you would ever hear him nervously say that he was a YouTube famous, web-slinging superhero. Yup, everyone's favourite neighbourhood Spider-Man.

He came home the day before and told you everything over the phone. Peter was in Germany, wearing a red and blue spandex suit, shooting webs in an evacuated airport with the Avengers while you paced back and forth in your bedroom, wondering if he was okay. Turns out, Captain America beat him up, but he still managed to steal his shield–not for long, though.

As relieving as it was to hear his voice through the phone, you had to see him in person. You weren't sleeping because you needed him and you had to know that he was okay. Sometimes you wonder if it was better off for your sanity if he didn't tell you about his secret.

You were scared. What if, one day, he gets back from patrolling with more than a black eye? And God forbid, what if, one day, he doesn't come back at all? Your throat closes up at that thought, eyes burning. You confronted him about it when he told you that he was heading to Germany, after breaking it to you that he was Spider-Man.

"No more 'what if's', Y/N. Don't bother taking the safe route–your boyfriend is Spider-Man."

"You know, I like it when you call yourself my boyfriend."

"O-Oh."

No more what if's. While you recalled that moment, you heard the window sliding open from the outside. You snapped your attention to the mirror and saw its reflection. There was a familiar figure leaning against the window sill, water droplets dripping from their hair. They stepped inside and stood there, waiting for you to do something.

He's home. Finally.

"Hey, Y/N," he broke the silence and awkwardly waved.

You jumped to your feet and ran towards Peter, using all of your energy to jump at him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he caught you, holding you up by your thighs as your legs circled around his hips. You leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his forehead, gazing down to meet his gorgeous orbs you've been longing to look at. You two stared at each other, searching each other's eyes. You noticed a dark, purple bruise surrounding Peter's right eye and suddenly you felt a pang of worry strike you in the pool of excitement.