Peter Parker Imagines - t.h

// you're not him //

// you're not him // 
word count: 577 
"I thought you were my best friend. So I jumped on you."

My eyes searched the busy hallway. Lockers lined the poster-filled walls, surrounded by endless amounts of students. The large crowd passed from behind me as I faced my own locker, shoving a few books into my bag and grasping the metal door. My head bobbed to the rhythm of the music flooding through my earphones, a soft hum passing my sealed lips. With one last glance at the Polaroid picture put up on the door of myself and my closest guy-friend, Ethan, I shut the locker with a ghost of a smile hovering over my face.

It was Monday, of all days it could've been. It isn't news that Monday always sucks and should be illegalised in all places around the world. But there I was, standing amidst the rowdy corridors of Midtown High pupils.

It was Monday when I made my first impression to Peter Parker, of all days it could've been. An event that should've happened long before, but it was better late than never.

A taller figure stumbled past me, a flash of brown hair catching my attention from the corner of my eye. My initial thought was that it was Ethan. His hair was styled differently, but it was surely him. His broad shoulders and lean posture, it was one-hundred-percent Ethan himself.

I pulled out my left earphone and dropped it, ignoring its downward tugging at the earphone on my right. I broke out into a sprint to catch up with him, my arms extending to find my balance. When I found myself close enough, I leapt up and wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs quickly locking around his waist. His strong arms immediately caught me, as if knowing I was going to jump onto his back seconds before I did so.

Since when was Ethan this built?

Yes, it was Monday. I was tired – sleep deprived. How could I have mixed the two up?

He turned his head towards me and I widened my eyes in shock. I felt my cheeks grow hot and beet red, my hands becoming shaky in embarrassment. I choked on the words stuck in my throat, already wanting to hide in a dark hole and rot. It was definitely not Ethan.

"You're not Ethan," I muttered, a painful smile on my lips, "sorry, Parker."

Peter's cheeks went bright pink, his eyes avoiding mine a bit too obviously. "Y-You know my n-name? Oh. O-Oh."

I let out a nervous, but humorous chuckle, shrugging. I suddenly feel far too self-conscious and aware of the looks the two of us were getting. Although, when we locked eyes, cheesily enough, it felt like it was just the two of us.

"Um, Y/N," Peter tapped a finger against my thigh, and I took it as a signal to hop off, "they're w-watching."

A tingling sensation ran over my scalp at the sound of my name rolling off his tongue. He's cute. I slowly slid off his back, my arms untangling from around his neck. My body felt cold when my feet met with the floor. Peter's shaky hand clasped around my wrist and before I knew it, I was being dragged into the sea of hormonal teenagers.

"W-What the hell was that?"

"I thought you were my best friend. So I jumped on you. But you're... you're not him."

"Yeah, I, uh, I figured," Peter shook his head and laughed, "they'll never let u-us live it down."

"Well, sorry."

––

a/n: 

this was for reaching 100 followers on tumblr. :))