Marvel Imagines

"Hey, Parker!"

You skipped up to him gleefully, a test paper clutched in your hand. A brilliant perfect score shone on the top, the ink beautiful in your eyes.

"Hm, I wonder what this is," you mocked, "oh, I remember now! It's a perfect score on the very physics test that you said you got one wrong on!"

"Shut up, (Y/L/N)," he grumbled, shutting his locker door grumpily, "It was only one mistake. And I'll have you know that it was probably luck that you aced it."

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out childishly. "Say what you will, but we both know I'm the smarter one."

He shrugged on his backpack, staring stonily at the ground. You smiled at his reaction, amused, and poked at his shoulder, cooing.

     "Aw, what, you're not going to talk to me now? You know what they call people like you? Sore losers."

     When he showed no reaction, you sighed, pouting. "Have I ever told you how childish you are? Because I don't think I have. At least not enough."

     "Look who's talking," he snorted.

     "And he talks!" you exclaimed happily, pulling your coat around you more tightly, shivering from the chilliness of October.

     Unbeknownst to you, Peter was sneaking a glance at you, subconsciously moving to offer his own jacket for you, barely able to stop himself in time. He looked away, flushing, and it wasn't exactly from the cold either.

     "Stop right there," a gruff voice snarled, "or I'll shoot your brains out."

     You froze, terrified, as you and Peter both slowly turned to face three muggers, two holding guns.

      A hand pushed you back roughly, drawing you against himself protectively. "Walk away," Peter said, voice steely, "and I won't hurt you."

     They glanced at him, nothing but a scrawny high schooler, with every appearance of a typical weak nerd.

     "Peter!" You yelped, when another one came from behind, restraining you roughly. "Let me go!"

     You froze once cold metal kissed your skin, as the telltale click of the trigger rang out deafeningly to you.

      "P-Peter?" you stuttered, every muscle immobile in terror. Your captor's hand covered your mouth as you struggled, kicking and punching.

     "You're a pretty thing, aren't you?" he chuckled, hands trailing down your back. You looked away, eyes squeezed shut.

     "Hey!" He shouted, approaching, "let her go!"

     You let out a muffled scream in warning, biting past the repulsive flesh. "Behind you!"

     He only had a moment to stiffen in surprise before they converged on him, going down swiftly. You shut your eyes, gagging, to block out the horrific beating they were giving him.

      A loud blow caught your attention, and you glanced back, only to see Peter flip back up, kicking at the mugger's chest, and you winced involuntarily at the crack of bones.

     The last mugger, the one holding a gun to your head, aimed his gun at Peter wildly, shooting off a few rounds before he quickly loosened his grip, backing away in fear. "H-Hey, man. I wasn't actually going to hurt her."

      Peter glared at him as the man ran, stumbling down the street awkwardly.

      You stared, at Peter, who was breathing heavily, fists coated in blood and eyes blazing with fury. He took a step towards you, before you snapped to reality, hands out to keep him away.

     "(Y/N)?" he said cautiously, "I'm not going to hurt you."

     You exhaled sharply, eyes widened. "Peter..."

     You and he glanced down in unison, his eyes widening in horror as he glimpsed the blood dotting your hands.

     "Peter?"