Peter Parker Imagines Book

Pineapples

It didn't take long before your cart began to fill. You knew these aisles like the back of your hand, as well as the quickest and most effective ways to glide through them and take what you needed off of shelves. Fruits and vegetables, meats and cheeses, breads and noodles and drinks. You were checking off items in your head as you roamed, thinking you were ready to start checking out.

And then you passed the snack and candy aisle.

There wasn't much of a struggle to convince yourself not too before you were turning into it. Everyone needed snacks. Sometimes you just weren't in the mood to get up and prepare something. Now more than ever was a time to indulge. Chocolate and chips—and you even pinned the thought to run and grab some ice cream.

This was sure to be the shopping trip to remember. You wanted to make sure you were going to have enough food to last you a month or two. Others call it paranoia, you call it paranoia and thinking ahead.

You stalled, pausing only for a moment. There was another person at the other end of the aisle; a boy about your age. You could see a soft frown pulling the corners of his lips as his eyes were drawn in a look that you couldn't tell at that distance if it was confusion or concentration while reading the back of a box of cookies. A frown of your own appeared as a flash of disgust flew through your thoughts. Boxed cookies were the worst. Packed with insane sugar with less than half the taste. If you had the confidence to go up and talk to strangers, you would recommend at least buying the frozen cookie dough. But you weren't so you waved it off. To each their own, you supposed.

Moving at a crawl, you began to pile various—but specific—junk food into your cart, slowly making your way down the aisle and reaching out to grab at something every once and a while. Only when you spied your favorite pretzels on the top shelf just out of your reach did a new problem arise.

Squinting against the light, a small huff escaped through your nose as you stood with your hands on your hips. Normally, they weren't up there, and you sent a quick glare to the new candied cherries that now occupied your go to snacks usual space. In your peripheral, you were aware of the boy passing by you. You could hear the quiet shuffling of his feet and the crinkling of packages as he dropped new items into his basket.

Quickly, you stole a glance of him over your shoulder, looking him up and down. A pang of disappointment appeared for no more than a few seconds when you realized he wasn't tall enough to reach the shelf without the same struggle as you, and you shook away the thought of even going out of your comfort zone to ask for help. Then you weighed just how much the pretzels were truly worth it. You had more than enough food and snacks to last.

And then you were climbing.

It wasn't like you were performing a death defying stunt. Everyone done it, stepped on that one bottom shelf to get that extra bit of height you needed to grab from the top one. You were only a few inches off the ground. And with your expert flick off the shelf, jump down, and catching maneuver, you sported a satisfied smile as you tossed the pretzels into your cart.

You now had everything you both needed and wanted. You were free to make your way to the front of the store and pay, to make your way home with your newly gained riches.

So why, oh why, was it now that you tripped?

You didn't register what had happened until you were still again. You blinked. Once. Twice. Then everything fell into place. The loud clatter of a shopping basket hitting the ground. Your untied shoelace. The two hands that were gripping onto each of your shoulders that were definitely not yours unless you had suddenly been gifted the art of being a contortionist. Someone had caught you.