Spider-Man Imagines I

Fruitcake | Peter Parker [TM]

Peter walked into the kitchen, keyring swinging around his finger. He grinned at his aunt who was getting a pan out of the oven. The warm kitchen smelled sweet.

"Mm - whatcha baking, Aunt May?" he asked, stuffing his keys in his pocket and opening the fridge. He grabbed a can of Coke and cracked it open.

"Fruitcake," she said proudly, her ovenmitted hands cradling a small pan. "My mother's recipe."

Peter groaned. "Another one?"

"Oh, Peter, you hush!" she scolded lightly. She placed it on the counter. "They're good."

"Yeah, for dogs, maybe," he said.

She gave him a dirty look. "I'm making a couple for your friends at school, too. Harry, MJ... ___, if she'd like one. Is there anyone else?" She grabbed a bowl and started to mix.

"Uh... no-" Peter looked at the table for the first time. It was covered in pans of fruitcakes. His stomach turned at the thought of eating even one bite of a piece.

"No," he said sadly, mentally cursing himself for not having any other friends. "That's it."

...

"Fruitcake? Fruitcake, anyone? They're homemade and free! C'mon, guys, it's Christmas!"

Peter was currently standing in the entrance of the school, arm full of wrapped fruitcakes. He was practically begging anyone to take one, but not one had left his arms. He sighed loudly.

"Why aren't people taking these stupid things?" he asked Harry, who was standing next to him, shoving a chunk of a piece in his mouth.

"I dunno," he said through the food. "I think they're great."

"Then you take them!" he said.

Harry held up a hand and shook his head. He patted his stomach. "No way, Pete. Gotta watch the figure."

Peter rolled his eyes, looking down at the armful of cakes again. "Then what am I gonna do with these?"

"Eat 'em, is what I would suggest."

Peter turned around. You and MJ walked up, snow on both of you. While MJ dusted snow off of her hair, you grinned at your friends and pulled gloves off of your hands. Harry smiled around a piece of fruitcake.

"___, I'm serious," Peter said. "I have, like, six more of these-"

"Well, why do you have so many?" you asked.

"Aunt May," he mumbled.

You nodded. "Ah. Okay, that makes sense." You snickered at Harry as he shoved another chunk into his mouth. "Well, give them to Harry! He clearly likes them."

"I already tried," he said tiredly.

"I'm watching my figure here," Harry said, voice barely audible.

"Yeah, okay," you said. You rolled your eyes at him. "I don't know, Pete... then take them to one of those food drives-"

"Don't you think I haven't thought of that?" he asked. "I checked this morning. They're closed until after Christmas."

"Surely there's somewhere you can take them," you said.

Peter stared at you and tapped his foot, deep in thought. You sighed and, without Harry or MJ noticing, moved your fingers to make the same movement Peter did to shoot webs. A flicker of light came across Peter's face.

"You're right!" he exclaimed. "Oh, ___, thank you!" He leaned down and kissed your cheek, making you blush and stutter.

"Y-you're welcome," you said. "Wait - you're going now? Peter!"

You, MJ, and Harry turned to watch him run out of the school and into the snow, arms full of fruitcakes.

"Peter Parker, you're going to be late for Pre Calc!" MJ yelled, gloved hands cupped around her mouth.

"I'll be fine!" he shouted, and he didn't stop.

...

Later that day, you were seated on your sofa, a plate of homemade Christmas cookies on your lap. The evening news played on the television. Just before you changed the channel, Spider-Man popped up on screen.

LOCAL HERO DELIVERS CITIZENS FRUITCAKE

You smiled at the footage of Spider-Man swinging across the street, catching a little boy that ran off onto traffic. Once the little boy was safe, he pressed a fruitcake into his arms and swung off.

There was similar footage for an old woman needing help with her groceries. She seemed ecstatic when she was handed a wrapped fruitcake.

Several more videos followed, the final one being of Spider-Man perched on top of a stopped train, tossing the final two cakes down below. You smiled warmly and reached for the phone. You dialed the number that had been memorized.

"Peter Parker," he said, picking up.

"Hey, Peter Parker," you joked lightly. "I just saw the news. That was cute."

"Oh, you did?" You could practically hear his smile. "Thanks. Cute, huh?"

"Let's not let it go to your head," you said. You laughed. "If Aunt May sees the tv though, isn't she gonna know it's you?"

"Luckily, she hasn't had much time to watch," he told you. "But sadly... she hasn't had much time to watch because she's still making fruitcakes."

You giggled. "Well here's an idea-"

"I stop them all off at your house?" he interrupted.

"Ha! No thanks," you said.

"Fruitcake isn't that bad, actually," he said. He paused. "Okay. I lied. It's bad. I'm sorry. It's so bad-"

You laughed louder. "No, okay, listen to my idea! Listen."

"Okay. Listening," he said.

"We need to gather up all of the cakes and shove them all in Harry's mailbox. Addressed to him, of course. Then when the butler brings them in, Harry gets a earful from him and a plethora of those stupid cakes. And we win!"

"Okay, that is a pretty good idea," Peter agreed. "If I walk to your house, will you come with me?"

"Um, yeah," you said. "Just, uh, let me get ready."

"Okay," he said.

"Okay," you said. You bit down on your lip on excitement. "Bye."

"See you in a bit."

You pulled the phone away from your ear and hopped up from the couch, grinning. You took one last glance at the television, seeing the footage of your best friend delivering fruitcakes to all of the people he saved every day.