PETER PARKER/TOM HOLLAND IMAGINES

FINDING OUT ~ PETER PARKER

You're not meant to fall love with your best friend. Everyone knows that. It's just common sense. It always ends bad, well that's what everyone says. But you couldn't help it. Peter Parker. Pete. Was one of your best friends. Your soul mate. Your crush. 

You met in 7th grade. Peter was used to being the smart person, he received the highest scores in most classes. And was bullied. And then you showed up. Out of nowhere. You were not only pretty, sporty, talented and smart, but you became friends with Peter, when everyone else avoided him. He was the wierd nerd who sat in the middle of the class, who always raised his hand. Well, that was how everyone else saw him. 

But to you Peter Parker, was beyond extra ordinary. He was smart, nice, and he was adorable. He reminded you of a puppy. He was always brushing his hands through his hair to stop the brown curls from covering his view. His eyes were pools of molten chocolate, that you would find yourself drowning in. There was no doubt you were in love with Peter. The way he would furrow his brows when he was confused. The way he chewed his bottom lip when he was deep in thought. It was for all the small things, that you found yourself in love with Peter. And it was because you were in love with him, you had to let him go.

You couldn't love your best friend. It was stupid, it was bound to cause trouble and end bad. So for the past two weeks, you found yourself avoiding Peter. Walking out of class before him. Hiding in the toilets if he followed you. Hiding in the library during breaks. Coming up with excuses whenever he asked to talk. And it was going well. You had successfully managed to not talk to Peter for 12 days. As you silently begged yourself, to fall out of love with Peter, because you knew he didn't love you. 

----

It was a Wednesday night, your hair was in a messy ponytail, you were wearing an over sized jumper that reached your knees and hid your shorts. Your favourite fluffy socks, keeping your feet warm. You had to keep pushing your glasses up the brim of your nose, and you room smelt of coffee. You scribbled away onto your notes as you studied for your German test the next day. 

The sound of Beyonce playing softly in the background was the only noise other than the trees rustling outside. Your parents were out for the week on a business trip, but throughout the years you had grown accustom to being home alone for days at a time. You enjoyed it. The independence, not having to worry about your mum saying you weren't studying, or your dad saying you were eating too much. 

But at times you got lonely. Being home alone. Not having any company. Not having anyone to talk to. Not having anyone to share your popcorn with when you watch a movie with. Not having anyone to laugh with. Most of the time Peter and Ned would come over. Bringing snacks and movies. You guys would procrastinate the whole afternoon, and spend the late hours of the night doing last-minute homework. But lately, you felt you were drifting apart from them. You would see the harshly whispering at one another at the lunch table, and when you came instantly stopped. Sending each other nervous glances as you sat down next to them.

You lightly bob you head to the music in the background, your pencil bouncing between your fingers when you hear a knock on your bedroom window. Your heart rate surges, you lived on the third floor of the apartment complex, how could someone possibly be at your window?

You sat on your chair, not making a single sound, not breathing for what felt like hours, before deciding to grab your cricket bat resting against the wall and walking to the window. You tip-toed to the window, you could hear everything from your heart thumping in your chest, the sound of the air hitting your body which was moving at a rate slower than a snail, too the sound of another knock on the window. Slightly louder this time. 

Your heart jumped in your chest and the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Slowly you grasped the midnight green curtains and yanked them apart. Getting in stance to attack whoever was outside your window. 

Your eyes widen when you see the person behind the window, instantly the crikey bat dropping out of your hands as you rush to open the window. Spider-man. The hero who saved lives and stopped crimes in Queens. An avenger. He looked beaten. Bruised. Blood was pouring out the ripped material of his suit. And through the small skin exposed, you could see different shades of greens, blues and purples. There was a clear disfigurement in his hand that you were sure you were broken. 

"Are you okay?" You question him, as he painfully came in through the open window. 

"Ye, I just got a bit hurt, and I saw your light on. So I thought you could help." Your eyes widen as you realize you should be helping him. 

"Right! Right! Stay here, I will be back!" You shout before running of to find the first aid kit and some of your dads old clothes for him. 

"Take of your suit and put these on. You can leave your mask on." You tell him sternly. You weren't good at many things but you were handy with medicine and all that, after all, you did want to become a doctor. 

You turn around after a couple of minutes, to come face to face with the bruised and battered body of Spider-man. You could see his well defined abs and muscles through the clothes. And you felt yourself blush. Before walking over and fixing him up. 

"There's something on your mind?" You hear his croaky voice say, as you clean the blood of a deep slash on his leg. Questioningly, you glance up at him. You barely knew him, but here he was reading you like a book. 

"I'm fine." You say bluntly avoiding eye contact. Chucking the paper towels into a bin bag. 

"And now you're lying," he says with a chuckle, "come on just tell me, I won't tell anyone, besides I am really good with secrets." You looked up at him, a small smile gracing your lips. Not only was he a hero, but he was also sweet and caring, but you also couldn't take him seriously with his spider-an mask on. 

"It's nothing just cool stuff, work and you know? Wait do you know. I mean gosh I just let you into my room, without knowing, you, you could be a pedophile for all I know." You say jokingly. 

You hear him gasp, feigning shock. "I will have you know I am the same age as you, and did you really think I am that old. I mean I don't have wrinkles do I?" He questions. 

"I don't know about that, I mean you do sound like my grandpa," you say slyly.

Spider-man gasps, "How dare you?" He says with a high pitch girly voice, "I will have you know I am still in High School." 

You let out a chuckle, "Oh really I couldn't tell... grandpa." You say before wrapping his ankle in a bandage. 

"No seriously though, what's up?" You stare quizzically at him. Something about him was so familiar, but you just couldn't put your tongue on it. 

You sigh, dropping yourself down on your bed, dramatically next to him. "Oh nothing, it's just, lately, my best-friends, Peter Parker and Ned Leeds... I don't know. I feel like they don't like me. We don't hang out that much anymore, and I... I feel like they're ignoring me. And... And it hurts, because, you're not meant to fall in love with your best friend. It's so wrong. It just ruins everything. And I like him. I like Peter. Gosh, i've loved him since like grade 7. But now, it feels like I don't even know him." You say, your voice cracking towards the end. 

The quietness that follows is deafening, and after what felt like hours you turn your head to the side, wiping away the tears welling up in your eyes. Your eyes widen, and you instantly jump back, when you see Peter. Sitting on your bed. In his hand the Spider-man mask. And slowly you start putting the pieces together, and your mouths goes agape with realization. 

"P-peter... Your S-Spider-man. And I just told you everything," your hands go to your red cheeks trying to cover yourself from all the embarrassment. 

Peter looks up at you, and you see his bruised and cut face, "I never meant to hurt you Y/N... I just couldn't tell you anything because I didn't want you to get hurt, Ned knew too and he agreed. Please forgive me, I couldn't let you get involved because if anything happened to you, I would blame myself. And I can't let anything happen to you, because... because I love you Y/N L.N. I love you so damn much."

You look up at Peter, who was smiling at you. "You do?"

"Yea... But before we kiss or anything can you maybe patch me up, I can't feel my fingers anymore."

word count:1600 

not edited will edit tomorrow night