Peter Parker Preferences

Everyone Loves A Bad Boy (Part One)

Quickly crouching behind a nearby SUV, you had crawled closer to the scene of the violence, curious as to who their latest victim was and it was fair to say, you had been horrified by their choice.

Peter.

His arms had been held behind his back by two of the three thugs and standing before him, with bloody knuckles was the quarterback.

You could barely stand to look upon the brunet's face, for it was so mangled and damaged. You were almost certain his nose was broken.

Through the undeniable pain, the male had noticed you watching him. Your eyes had met only for a brief minute but you hadn't been able to ignore the helplessness in his gaze. For the first time in your history of knowing one another, Peter wasn't staring at you with a look of hatred and you knew that you needed to do something to help him.

Only...

...you couldn't will yourself to move from your concealed hiding place. You found yourself so utterly transfixed with his vulnerable state.

When he finally realised that he did not have an ally in you, he had mouthed the word, "Go, please." in hope that you would listen to him, rather than subject him to further humiliation.

Those two simple words had now led you to the out of use toilets, desperate to talk to the male and see if he was okay. 

"What are you doing here, (y/l/n)?" he asked as he folded his arms in front of his chest. "Come to gloat?"

"I..." there was so much you wanted to say. After everything you had seen, surely 'I'm sorry' should have been the first thing your lips uttered and it would have been, had it not been for the horrific state of Peter's face.

Your apology caught in your throat as you gasped and hands reached up, tenderly touching the sparse parts of the undamaged skin. "What did you do?" you asked, fearful of the answer.

He ducked his head, trying to hide his appearance from you but gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "F*cks sake, Parker, what did you do to deserve this?"

You watched his eyes darkened, as anger swelled beneath the surface, ready to be freed on the nearest person, you. With an almost animalistic snarl, Peter pulled away from your grip and backed far away from you. "Oh you really want to know?" he leaned forward and through gritted teeth, hissed: "It was because of you, (y/l/n)."