Spider-Man Imagines I

Not That Girl (Part Six) | Peter Parker [TH]

 The plastic cups burst open and blue and red slush pooled around Peter's feet. He stomped through it, muscles flexing as he clenched his hands into tight fists, teeth gritting against each other as he grabbed the man going through her backpack.

"You get away from her right now!" he shouted, fingers hooking on the man's hoodie.

He heaved upward, sending the man soaring through the air. He smacked against the brick wall and then fell in a heap on top of some dumpsters. The man screamed, clutching his arm.

Oops.

"What the-"

"Peter!" you shouted in terror, making Peter's wide eyes snap to you.

One of the men lunged at him, hands going to the front of his shirt. Peter stumbled back, shocked. It took a second for him to compose himself enough. He reminded himself who he was. He didn't kill and he didn't hurt people. He muttered an apology as he tripped the man and kicked him in the gut, sending him bending over.

He turned back towards you, hearing a gasp leave your lips. The man with the knife was holding you against his chest, the blade just above your collarbone.

He felt a cold rush of blood in his veins as he saw your eyes wide and cheeks flush. He heard your heartbeat pick up speed as terror spiked through your nerves.

Peter faltered for just a moment, the feeling of it all overpowering.

A pair of arms wrapped around his torso and locked his elbows at his sides. He grunted in pain as he felt a fist collide into his stomach.

"Don't move, freak," the man behind him said. "Make a single movement and your girl's head is cut right off her shoulders!"

Peter swallowed. He shook his head slightly, trying to reassure you, but your eyes were wide as the tip of the knife dug deep into the dip of your collarbone. You cried out.

Peter jerked. "Don't-" He clamped his lips shut and tried again. "I don't want to hurt anybody. Just let her go and you can both leave and no one needs to get hurt."

"We can't do that, freak," the man said.

"Okay," Peter said calmly. "Then... I'm sorry." He threw his arms out, probably too roughly, since the man behind him screeched in agony and held his right elbow to his side. "I said sorry! Plus I warned you!" He pushed the guy onto the heap of trash cans and the first man.

The one with the knife against your neck gaped. He looked at Peter, blanched, and pushed you away. You staggered forward and into Peter, who wrapped an arm around you to steady you.

"What kind of drugs are you on?" the man asked. "And who the heck are you?"

Peter pulled up his sleeve, uncovered his web shooter, and flicked his wrist. He shot a web at the man's face and then added him to the pile, too.

"I'm Spider-Man," he said, and he hooked am arm tighter around your waist, aimed the web shooter towards a building twenty feet above you, and you were soaring.

He landed on the top of the building with you and let you go. He grinned triumphantly.

"Um, that was awesome! Wasn't that awesome?" he asked you.

"Uh, sure," you said, "except you probably just gave up your identity to those losers and you left my backpack down there."

Peter's mouth dropped into an 'o' shape. "Okay, right! Your backpack! Hang on - I'll be right back!" He hopped off the side of the building and into the alleyway to retrieve it.

Once he was back, he handed it to you, out of breath and smiling. "So wasn't that awesome?"

"No," you said. Your hands were shaking.