Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

biker girls & diner boys pt. 1 {p.p.}

50s inspired greaser AU (basically think of grease reimagined meets Spiderman and something else.) Enjoy!

I smile as I tie my apron strings behind me and mentally prepare for another long shift at Rosie's. The only comfort is that Peter's working the same shift—just like always. It's made this summer not feel so miserable.

I'd be lying if I said I hadn't developed a terrible crush on him. I mean, the crush itself isn't a bad thing. He's the first decent guy I've ever met and felt this way towards.

Trouble is, we've from two worlds that exist in the same small town. I'm fairly certain that the guys would never let me hear the end of it if they knew, and I have a feeling they wouldn't give him the warmest of welcomes.

"Hey, Pete." The smile drops from my face as I see a large black bruise over his right eyes. I frown furrow as my fingers trace over the tender spot. "What's with the shiner? Some varsity jerk wanna make himself feel big again?"

He laughs in the telltale way that screams he's nervous, but there's still a smile tugging at his lips. "Something like that."

"Give me his name, and I'll do him in for you." I joke as my hand drops from his face. "Or at least teach ya how to rattle em up."

"He's not worth it. Trust me." Peter replies. "So, Rosie said this is you last week here?"

"Yeah, the boys are gettin back on Saturday, which means I go back to fixing up whatever they pulled from the junkyard to call a bike." I roll my eyes at them. "Honestly, I'd rather stay here, but the old man needs me to help out at the shop when it becomes Antsville."

"So, I guess this is it?" Peter asks as he leans against the counter. "Do we just go back to strangers?"

"Not if you don't want to?" I mumble feeling more exposed and vulnerable than I can ever recall. "That is, I don't want us to be strangers, but if you disagree that's totally fine. I just—"

Peter's hand overlaps mine on the cold, blue counter to stop me. "I don't want to be a stranger to you." My heart suddenly starts pounding under his kind gaze as he continues. "In fact, I'd like to—that is I wanted to ask if you—would you like to go out sometime? As a date?"

A smile breaks across my lips as a the blood rises to my cheeks. "Honestly?" I question and watch as he starts to panic. "I've been waiting for you to ask me all summer."

"Honey," Rosie calls as she appears from seemingly thin air, "let me tell you, we all have."

"Gee. Thanks, Rosie." Peter mumbles and scratches the back of his neck. "So—um—how does tomorrow sound."

"How about, I watch the place while you two take a break." Rosie interjects and shoots a wink at me. "This place is as dead as my first husband. I can manage on my own for a bit. You two just relax; you've done enough work this whole summer."

Unfortunately, you can never argue with Rosie—not if you value your sanity, at least. So, Peter and I begrudgingly take a seat in the corner booth we usually hide in after our shifts. It feels strange to be. Here with Rosie taking care of things and watching us out of the corner of her eye. As if there wasn't enough pressure already.

We both sit across from each other, neither of us knowing what to say to each other that will start the conversation. ""So, um, what—I mean, why did you decide to come work at the diner? It's just I usually work here every summer and break, but this is the first time I've seen you around here."

"Oh, I only moved here a year ago. Normally, I work at my dad's garage, but since most people went on vacation, I asked Rosie if I could work here since I'm trying to save up." I reply with a soft smile, "What about you?"