Spider-Man Imagines I

I Wouldn't Miss It For The World (Part One) | Peter Parker [TH]

Band was one of the extra curricular activities that Peter had to drop in order to be Spider-Man. Despite loving you so much, he did not dare tell you his secret. It was dangerous, obviously, and he'd kept it for far too long now.

"Nah, I'll definitely be there," he assured you, tapping the end of his pencil against the desk.

You smiled impossibly wider. "Thanks, Peter," you almost squealed, reaching over and placing a hand on top of his.

His cheeks went red as your painted nails poked into his knuckles and your grip tightened for the briefest moment. Wow, did he want to grab your hand and hold it.

Class started. While the teacher took attendance, you stole Peter's notebook and wrote on a fresh sheet:

Down for a study session in the library today?

He took it and smiled. Just before he could write an eager YES! a wad of paper bounced off of his head. He glanced up to see Flash mouthing at him.

"Parker, get my sister!"

He glanced at you and tapped your shoulder, bringing you out of focusing on fixing up your lipstick. He pointed to Flash and you started mouthing to him.

Peter frowned. He couldn't hang out with you everyday. Flash might start to realize how much he really liked his sister.

He passed the notebook back. No, not today. Sorry.

You frowned. Even worse than the straight up no, he didn't even give an excuse. He just didn't want to hang out.

That's okay. I'll just see you at the concert.

He read the more and nodded, a squinty eyed smile bringing out a gorgeous smile out of you.

...

That night, you held your instrument case in your lap. Flash was driving you to the concert a little early so you could practice. You drummed your fingers nervously against the top of the case.

Flash raised his eyebrows as you as he let go of his seatbelt. "Nervous there, kiddo?"

"Stop calling me kiddo like I'm not just eighteen months younger than you," you grumbled.

He chuckled. "Nervous and snappy. Yikes." When you shot him a tired look, he grew sympathetic. "Seriously, tell me what's got you all worked up. You always love concerts. You're great at playing and you're confident in stage. What's wrong now?"

You bit your lip. "I don't know... I guess I just want to impress the right people," you said, blushing. You meant Peter. You always meant Peter. "I'm just feeling a little insecure about myself is all."

Flash shook his head. "There is literally no reason my genius of a sister should feel nervous. You've got this, kiddo."

You smiled. "Thanks," you said.

"Hang on, I'll get your door for you," he said, opening his door. He ran around the car and pulled on yours, opening it and helping you out, mindful of the heels that left you less mobile than usual.

You took in a deep breath, feeling more than confident now.

...

On stage, sitting in your chair amongst the others that played your instrument, you sat straight and proud, eyes twinkling in the spotlight. Music trailed out of your instrument, filling the room with rich sounds of the oldest classics.

You were unaware of the fact in the center of the auditorium was an empty seat that belonged to Peter Parker, who hadn't bothered to show up.

Flash noticed. After the show, he ran to find you as you walked off backstage. In his hands was a giant bouquet of assorted flowers. He found you, embraced you, and handed them to you.

"H-How did you get these? I rode here with you," you laughed, cheeks pink with the excitement of performing.

"I had them in the back behind your seat," he said. He grinned. "You were fantastic! What did I tell you?"

You smiled. "Thanks, Flash," you said.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

You shook your head. "I want to find Peter and see how he enjoyed it. And then I want pictures. I didn't put on expensive lipstick to waste a perfect photo opportunity." You grabbed Flash's hand and moved him through the crowd. "Have you seen Peter?"

"Uh... Parker..." he paused, gulping down the dread. "Parker didn't make it to the show."

The look of happiness on your face vanished in an instant. You mouthed an oh and glanced away, hands lowering the flowers from your chest.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you lied. "It's just that... he promised. He said he wouldn't miss it for the world." There were tears in your eyes.

Flash winced. "Look, Parker is a jerk. That loser always flakes on everybody."

That certainly didn't make you feel any better. You wanted so badly for Flash to like the boy you had fallen in love with, but they never got along. And they never would - not after tonight.

"Hey, I'll take you anywhere for dinner. Or dessert! Anywhere, my treat," he said.

"I'd rather go home," you whispered. You just wanted time to grieve and work yourself up to forgive Peter in the morning.

...

Peter crawled in through his bedroom window and plopped down silently on the carpet. He stripped down to his boxers, hung the suit up in his closet, and grabbed new clothes to wear after his shower. On his way down the hall, he checked his phone to find a single text from Flash.

Consider yourself dead, Parker. Don't promise my sister things you don't intend to keep.

Peter's stomach dropped. "Oh no," he whispered, the blood draining from his face. "Oh no, no, no, no..." He looked at the time and saw that the concert had been over for fifteen minutes.

Aunt May poked her head out of her room. "Hey, sweetie - I thought you were already asleep. What's wrong?"

"Oh, the concert! Oh my gosh, ___ is gonna kill me!"