Spider-Man Imagines I

Don't You Mean Mr. Stark? | Peter Parker [TH]

Peter had been more than excited to take you to the pumpkin patch. Your love for fall must be contagious because the longer he stayed around you, the more he liked the idea of crunchy leaves and bright orange pumpkins. Or maybe he just loved the way you reacted to silly, tiny things like piles of gourds on haystacks and scarecrows with faces drawn on them.

It wasn't that cold for an October day, but Peter still shivered out in the field where you both were walking. Aunt May had parked way out, saying that walking in the open space would be good for them. It was the first time they'd been out of the city for a while (and more notably, the first time they'd been to the pumpkin patch without Uncle Ben).

"You two run on and do stuff," Aunt May insisted. "I'm going to hang back here."

Peter turned around, concerned. "You sure, Aunt May?"

"Yeah," she said, smiling. "I'm going to buy a coffee and find a table to sit at. I brought my book to read." She held up the small paperback and waved it. "You two have fun and text me when you're done, alright?"

"Okay," he said slowly. "You're sure?"

"Peter, honey, go," she urged. She nodded towards the cabins and tents to the right. "Have fun."

He nodded. You looked from him to his Aunt May, a wrinkle of confusion forming between your eyebrows. Peter started to walk off, almost hesitantly, like he couldn't leave his aunt alone.

"Peter," you half whispered, eyeing him carefully. "Is something wrong?"

"Uh, no," he lied. Lied.

You swallowed nervously. "Did I do something?"

"What? Babe, what could you have done wrong?" he asked.

"I... don't know," you admitted. "But you and May look so-"

"It's nothing," he said quickly. When you gave him a look, he sighed. "Okay. It's the first time we've come here since Uncle Ben. It was kind of our thing to do. That's all."

You blanched. "And I dragged you here," you said slowly. You peeled your hand from Peter's and shook your head. "Peter, I'm so-"

He cupped a hand over your mouth. "Don't say you're sorry," he pleaded. "You're the only one that hasn't pitied me because of my uncle. You didn't know and I didn't want you to. I promise I'm okay. May is fine. This is fine. Let's just have fun." He pulled his hand away.

You nodded slowly. "Okay," you said. You took his hand again. You wanted to say more, but figured it would be better to ditch the conversation completely. "I, uh, know this candy store in the back that just opened up last year."

Peter's lips curled into a smile. "Then what are we still doing here?" he asked.

You laughed softly. "Well come on, I'll show you."

You brought him up the dirt path towards the rows of tiny cabins that held gift shops and ice cream parlors inside. Silently, you pointed out vendors on the side of the road, selling handmade scarves and headbands, candles and wreaths. Peter smiled the whole way to the candy shop.

Stepping inside of the cabin, you were hit with a burst of warm, heated air and the sweet smell of candy. Peter inhaled deeply, mouth watering as he stared at the display case of fancy chocolates at the front.

Peter was suddenly dragging you all around the store, picking things he knew you would like up. Before too long, you were checking out, two bulky paper bags of candy in each of your hands.

Peter followed you outside and to a bench, where you both plopped down arm popped sour caramel green apple suckers in your mouths. Peter divided the candy up in each bag, excitedly talking about going home and eating it all.