#I’m still gonna make Luke Skywalker edits but it’s just not the same anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

victimofthemusic · 8 years ago

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I Want To Save You--Spider-Man: Homecoming Imagine

Hi guys! It’s been a really long time since I’ve been active on here, my life is crazy and I haven’t really had the urge to write anything. However, I’m back with this little number and I’m so happy with it. I absolutely adore this movie and Tom Holland and I’ve wanted to write something for this universe for a while and I finally got the inspiration to do so last night. I’ve seen this movie three times already and I love it more and more each time I see. A disclaimer, I have nothing against Zendaya as Michelle, I just didn’t particularly like her character and I’m not sure if it was the way she was portrayed, but I’m hoping they give her more character development in the next one. If you guys have any suggestions, please feel free to leave me a message! (:

~~~~~~~~

“Peter, it literally says right here, insert part A into—“

“—okay and I’m telling you, Y/N, that it doesn’t look right—“

Batting the instructions you were waving in front of his face away with a frustrated scowl, Peter snatched the halfway completed section of the Lego Death Star you were building, a piece that you spent almost a half hour carefully piecing together in order to ensure that you were putting it together correctly. However, Peter’s grip wasn’t all that delicate and the section snapped into the thirty tiny pieces it started as, bringing you right back to square one.

“Way to go, Parker,” You huffed, annoyed, picking up the pieces and beginning to reassemble them, again, but not before shooting him a disgruntled look.

Peter at least had the decency to look sheepish, his brown eyes wide and apologetic. You sighed, rolling your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the corners of your lips from twitching into a small smile, your annoyance with him immediately melting away.

However, you weren’t gonna tell him that

It only took you a few minutes to assemble all thirty pieces, before you handed it back to Peter, who handled it with a bit more care than the last time. You watched as he attempted to place it where he thought it should go, despite the carefully detailed instructions that were now crumpled up and tossed into the corner of his messy room. The tip of his tongue peeked out from the corner of his lips in concentration, his furrowed brows quickly melting back into frustration scowl when when it still wouldn’t fit.

You sighed, “Peter, they gave us instructions for a reason, not for them to be balled up and tossed aside like an old candy bar wrapper. If it belonged there, it would fit and you wouldn’t have to—“

He cut you off with a shout of victory as the small section snapped onto the not even half way finished Death Star with a small click and Peter shot you a smug grin.

You simply rolled your eyes, “Of course, only Peter Parker could correct a toy company that has been around for decades and has been selling this particular set for years—“

Peter laughed, “Oh c’mon, Y/N, when you’ve been building these things as long as Ned and I have, you learn that the instructions are merely suggestions and should be treated as such.”

“You say that like it’s something to brag about,” You teased, “seriously how many times have you guys built this thing?”

Now it was Peter’s turn to roll his eyes, “Oh please, Y/N, this isn’t just a Lego Death Star,” he said with a level of seriousness that was both sad and adorable, “it’s the Limited Edition Lego Death Star set that comes with Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker and two different sets of Light Sabers—“

His voice had become more animated the more he spoke, his excitement on the subject turning his normal talking speed into more of his familiar rambling quality he got when he was passionate about something. His eyes were almost shining from the amount of enthusiasm and passion he had about this half way built contraption and all of this just from legos.

As usual, you found his level of dorkiness cute and one of the many things you loved about Peter. He was completely and wholeheartedly himself, from his closet filled with varying amounts of t-shirts with math and science puns on them, to his Star Wars posters in his room and in his locker at school and his love for comic books and graphic novels and school and random knowledge that he absorbed like a sponge. He never hid his interests from the outside world and he never pretended to be someone he wasn’t simply to fit in. He was brave and pure and just so inconceivably and inherently good, in a way that you wished you could be.

The blank look on your face must’ve put a damper on his enthusiasm, because he simply sighed, like he couldn’t understand why he was still friends with you.

You gave him an apologetic smile and he rolled his eyes again, “I knew I should’ve asked Michelle to do this with me, she at least understands what I’m talking about.”

It was meant to be teasing, but his words stung in a way that you knew he didn’t mean for them to. While, admittedly, the amount time you knew Peter paled in comparison to that of Michelle and Ned, you still thought that you were closer to Peter than Michelle was. You had nothing against her, at all, you liked Michelle. She was witty with her dry humor and wicked smart and seemed to always know when someone needed something, with that observant way of hers. She saw people, almost to the point of it being uncomfortable if you weren’t used to it and she had a quiet passion about things, from politics to books.

But Michelle kept people at a guarded distance and sometimes, you didn’t like the way she treated Peter and Ned. Some of her jokes you thought came off a bit harsh and unnecessary and while they seemed not to faze Peter or Ned, they did bother you.

Maybe you didn’t understand their relationship and maybe it was because you liked Peter and you knew, deep down, you weren’t good enough for him the way Michelle was. For all of her rough edges and scathing remarks, she was just as smart as Peter, her GPA almost neck and neck with his. She had the same interests and while they had a relationship that you didn’t exactly understand, you could see why they would fit together, opposites attract and all that.

And you? Well, the only reason you got into Mid-Town was because your father wasTony Stark, billionaire, genius, Iron Man and a founding member of the Avengers. You learned from a young age that people only ever cared about your last name and who your father was and while you weren’t by any means stupid, you weren’t the science prodigy your father was. And if it wasn’t for Peter, your B in Chemistry and Physics would be nonexistent. He tutored you almost every day after school in either the library at school or his cramped kitchen table in his equally cramped apartment in Queens.

You’d never asked him to come over to the Tower in your years of friendship, not out of embarrassment or lack of trust in him, but because you were embarrassed by the wealth that oozed from the place. You never wanted Peter to see you as some rich snob who lived off of her father’s seemingly endless fortune and status. You loved your father more than anyone on the planet, but the amount of gifts he showered you with were borderline ridiculous and you never wanted Peter to see that side of your life. Peter’s aunt worked two jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table after uncle Ben died. Peter struggled for everything and you wanted for nothing.

“Oh,” you mumbled, “I see.”

Peter’s eyes widened in horror, guilt flooding his dark irises and he groaned in embarrassment, “Oh god, Y/N, I didn’t meant it like that,” he rushed to explain, “I just meant that you’re not interested in this stuff and that’s completely cool, you know and Michelle really isn’t either, but she just gets it, not that makes her better or anything—“

“It’s okay, Peter, I get it,” you said with a strained smile, not meeting his eyes and instead, you gathered your things and made to get up from the hardwood floor, your back giving a twinge of discomfort from sitting for so long, but it was overshadowed by the amount of hurt that was squeezing your heart in a vice like grip.

“Wait, Y/N, don’t go—“ Peter said, hurrying to get up, his hand reaching out to grab your elbow but you pulled away, shrugging your backpack on to your shoulders.

“It’s late, Peter,” you said softly, glancing down at your StarkWatch—the first of it’s kind and not even available on the market yet—and to your utter humiliation, you couldn’t even read the numbers from the tears blurring your vision, “my dad’s probably wondering where I am.”

“It’s only eight and besides, your dad’s in Sokovia for the meeting about the Acco—“ Peter protested, following you out of his room and into the small kitchen.

He stopped short when you spared him a glance over your shoulder, your hand reaching blindly for the door knob, blinking through your tears in order to see him clearly and you gave him small smile, but by the look of complete guilt on his face, it came out as more of a grimace.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow.” You said, completely disregarding his previous statement, trying for a light tone but it came out flat and before your tears could fall, you opened the door and ran down the hallway.

“Y/N, wait—“

You ignored his voice carrying down the hallway and just ran, not even bothering with the elevator and taking the stairs instead, which, probably wasn’t the greatest idea you’ve ever had, considering your tears were coming in full force now and you could barely see an inch in front of your face let alone to be able to see wether or not your feet were even landing on the stairs.

You made it somehow without tripping and breaking your neck and you burst through the apartment doors and out into the quiet streets of Queens. You ran until you couldn’t see Peter’s apartment building anymore and you slowed your pace to a walk, the chilly December air making you wish you remembered your jacket.

You weren’t sure how long you walked for or even where you were going. you contemplated calling Happy to come get you, but when you looked up, you didn’t even recognize where you were. A inkling of anxiety began to settle into your stomach, but you ignored it, trying to keep calm. Patting your pockets, you tried to find your phone, so you could GPS your way to someplace familiar and more open, but you were coming up empty.

Forcing down the anxiety that was beginning to feel more like panic, you reached around and unzipped your backpack, digging around inside of it, hoping that maybe you had put it in there in your haste to get out of Peter’s apartment. A chill ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold New York air and you felt a prickling sensation make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your fingers brushed against something smooth and familiar, but before you could figure out what it was, you saw a flash out of the corner of your eye and then a hand settled on your shoulder, making you jump, your backpack falling out of your grip.

“Well what do we have here?” A gruff voice whispered menacingly, spinning you around and slamming you up against a nearby alley wall.

You winced when your head bounced off of the frozen brick wall, a small whimper leaving your suddenly dry lips.

It was a man, looking to be in about his late thirties, early forties, wearing a ratty old sweatshirt and jeans with holes in the knees. His dark hair was covered by a black beanie, his pale face red from the cold, his eyes a glacier blue and they were frigid cold as they looked you up and down suggestively. He was tall and well muscled and panic rose in your stomach when his grip on your shoulders tightened.

“What’s baby Stark doing in this part of town?” He asked rhetorically, his breath reeking of stale alcohol and cigarettes.

He ran chilled fingers down your cheek in a twisted caress, “What’s with tears sweetheart?” he cooed and you jerked your head away with a grunt, glaring at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Get off of me.” You said through clenched teeth.

He chuckled, “Oh, you’re a feisty one,” he crooned as you struggled against his hold, his voice sickeningly sweet and bile rose in your throat when his hand traveled down to the hollow your throat, where he squeezed.

“What are you gonna do sweetheart? Scream for your daddy?” He grinned maliciously, “go right a head, he’ll never hear you all the way in Sokovia.”

With a growl, you raised your knee in a move Natasha had taught you in her many training sessions and you knew you connected when your attacker let out a grunt of pain. His grip slackened from around your throat and you used that to your advantage, shoving out of his hold and trying to run, but you didn’t get very far. You had spared a look over your shoulder, to see your attacker clutching between his legs with a face twisted in a mixture of rage and pain.

“You little bitch!” he snapped and you couldn’t help but grin in triumph.

Your victory, however, was cut short when you collided with a solid chest, hands wrapping around your forearms as if to steady you. You gasped, an apology on your lips but when you looked into dark eyes glinting with same amount of malice as the man currently writhing on the ground, that’s when all the previous pride left your body and panic settled like lead into your stomach, your blood running cold.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” the man, shorter than the other one, but equally as built, if not more so, said with a cackle, “we’re just getting started with you.”

A scream built up in your throat and you tried to run around him, but he caught you around the waist and picked you up, kicking and screaming.

He threw you to the ground and on instinct, you threw your hands out to catch your fall. Most of your weight landed on your right hand and you heard a sickening pop and your wrist flared with pain almost immediately and you collapsed against the dirty alley floor with a grunt of pain. Your head swam when it collided, once again, with something hard and frozen and when you tried to sit up, your vision blurred in front of you, the man standing in front you became four and the man behind you, who had recovered from your blow, took advantage of your disillusioned state and grabbed you roughly by the hair, yanking you backwards.

You gripped his wrist with both hands and ignoring the flare of pain in your right hand, you yanked and twisted and with a smirk of satisfaction, you heard his wrist crunch and heard him curse loudly, letting go of you immediately.

Your head felt heavy and you had to blink several times and by the time you’d gathered yourself, the other guy was standing over you and once again grabbing you by the throat, shoving you back onto the ground, settling his weight on top of you, his knees trapping your legs down, pinning you and you were unable to break free.

You wiggled, trying desperately to break out of his hold and his hold lessened enough for you to twist your neck and sink your teeth into the meat of his hand.

He pulled back with a yelp, his eyes blazing with fury. Before you had time to react, his hand came back and pain exploded in a multitude of colors around your left eye, the sting of the slap made worse from the cold and the sound echoed around the empty alley.

A desperate cry broke free of your lips and tears welled, the fear spreading like a viscous poison in your veins and you wished more for anything to be back in Peter’s warm apartment, building the stupid Death Star with Alt J playing in the background, all the hurt and jealousy forgotten as you bantered playfully with your best friend.

“Maybe that’ll teach you to behave,” the man said harshly, panting heavily and you heard the clink of a belt buckle and suddenly time slowed down. You jerked and wiggled and struggled, trying hopelessly to escape his harsh hold.

You screamed out in fear and desperation and you were rewarded with another slap for your efforts.

“Shut her up, dumbass, she’s gonna wake the whole neighborhood.” The other guy demanded harshly.

“I’m trying, but maybe if you’d help me—“

He didn’t get to finish his sentence.

A blur of red and blue came flying from the building on the right, knocking him into the brick wall harshly, his head making a grotesque crack against the frozen brick.

“Now, is this any way to treat a lady, fellas?” Spider-Man asked lightly, but you could hear the barely concealed anger. He grabbed the guy up by his throat, throwing him into his buddy, who was trying to make a run for it. They spilled over each other like an odd form of bowling pins and you watched as they both stood up and raised their fists up defensively.

“Two against one? Now how is that fair?” Spider-Man goaded as the taller of the two charged and swung, Spider-Man dodging it easily and you watched, with blurry vision as Spider-Man ducked and dived and dodged their weak attempts at fighting.

Your vision swam and the left side of your face throbbed in a dull ache in time with your wrist. You feel yourself slipping, a fog rolled over your senses and suddenly, you felt the fatigue settle into your bones as the adrenalin and the panic left your body.

The red and blue blur webbed the two men up and you heard him murmuring into his phone and a giggle fell from your lips when you realized that Spider-Man carried a cellphone. You wondered if he called it a Spidey-phone, if it had web access—

Spider-Man suddenly appeared in your line of vision, hovering over you and despite the mask, you could feel the panic and concern rolling off of him in waves. His sudden appearance startled you, fear rising once again like bile in your throat.

He moved back, holding his hands up in a placating gesture, “Whoa, hey, it’s okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice was soft and warm and filled with so much concern that it made tears spring to your eyes.

“Hey,” he whispered, “you’re gonna be okay, I promise. Those…creeps,” he spat the word like a curse, “will never hurt you again.”

Your vision was getting dark around the edges and you felt tired, the fight leaving your body and leaving you a shivering mess in its wake.

“Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely, your throat raw and flaming from all the screaming. You winced, raising a shaky hand to feel it, wondering if it was as swollen as it felt.

A gloved hand stopped you, gently grabbing your hand and wrapping it in his warm grip.

“Best not touch anything until medical comes, okay?” he said nervously, his thumb brushing over the back of your freezing hand.

“Will you stay with me?” You asked, your trepidation making your voice sound small and almost childlike, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Your eyelids fluttered, the drowsiness becoming too much to bear.

Spider-Man’s voice was soft when he answered you, “I’ll never leave you, Y/N.”

How do you know my name?

The question was fleeting, but it lingered, even when the exhaustion became too much and the world became quiet.

~~~~~~~~

Bright light danced before your closed eyes and your eyelids felt like they had fifty pound weights strapped to them. You could hear rushing footsteps and someone was yelling, demanding to know what happened. It sounded like your father, but you weren’t sure. The sounds were muffled, like they were coming through a badly tuned radio, like the one in uncle Steve’s room that looked like it came out of the ice with him.

“—left my apartment upset and she left her phone—“

“—why was she upset? What’d you do to her Parker?!”

“—I found her in the alley with those two men they were going to—“

The voice was the same one that said they wouldn’t leave you and you saw the flash of red and blue and the smell of Tom Ford cologne your dad was fond of was overwhelming and your muddled brain pieced together that your dad was talking to Spider-Man.

“—if it wasn’t for you kid, my daughter would be dead or worse and I—thank you.”

“It’s not a problem Mr. Stark, Y/N is very important to me and I would never let anything happen to her.”

For the first time that night, you felt warm.

~~~~~~~~

The second time you woke up, the room was darker and bathed in the light of the moon. You glanced around the room and the first thing that came to your mind was white. White walls, white floors, white curtains, white sheets.

The door to the room was propped open and you could hear the voices from earlier floating in from the hallway, tones hushed and soft, something about a suit and—

A flash of red and blue

“What’d you do to her Parker?!”

You heard footsteps and your father appeared in doorway, dressed in old jeans and a ratty AC/DC T-shirt. His hair was rumpled and he looked tired, the bags underneath his eyes more pronounced than ever and when his gaze landed on you, he smiled.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence,” he teased, the bed shifting when he sat down on the edge, reaching out to brush your hair out of your face, “how do you feel?”

His dark eyes were concerned, worry creeping at the edges and you felt guilt swell in your gut for putting that there.

“Tired,” you said softly, voice still hoarse, “confused, sore,” you added, “but I’m okay.”

Your dad smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

You swallowed heavily, flicking your gaze down to the sheets, spotting a loose thread and your nervous fingers began to fiddle with it, “Dad, I—“

You could feel tears welling in your eyes and you choked back a sob. You didn’t even know where to begin, how to even apologize for being so reckless and so stupid.

A calloused hand settled on yours and pulled you gently into a hard chest, wrapping you into strong arms and you felt safe.

“Hey now,” your dad murmured into your hair, “it’s not your fault, kiddo. Peter told me what happened and while I agree that you could’ve handled it differently, you’re here and you’re safe and that’s what matters the most to me right now.” He whispered, brushing a kiss over the top of your head.

You squeezed your eyes shut, cuddling closer to his warm chest. He smelled like coffee and motor oil and a hint of the Tom Ford cologne, his scent comforting and familiar, grounding you and warming the chill that had settled into your veins. You knew something like this would never happen again, that your dad would do everything in his power to put those assholes in prison to never see the light of day again and the thought calmed you.

He placed another kiss to the top of your head before pulling away, smoothing your hair back from your face, cupping your cheek.

“I love you, kid,” he whispered, a serious look settling over his features, “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

You gave him a small smile, “I love you, too, dad.”

He ruffled your hair, smiling genuinely for the first time since you woke up. You knew this attack had aged him and added to the growing list of concerns and stress he had going on at the moment and the guilt from earlier rose back up again.

Something flickered in the doorway and you glanced up, seeing a familiar face gazing in anxiously.

Your dad followed your gaze, and a soft chuckle fell from his lips, “It’s cool kid, you can come in and say hi, no need to hover all awkwardly in the doorway, that’s Vision’s job.”

Peter smiled, but his eyes were on you, his gaze filled with so much concern and worry that you felt the guilt rise in you even more.

Your dad flickered his gaze back and forth between the two of you before letting out a slow whistle, “Wow, you could cut the awkward tension in here with a knife.”

You leveled him with a glare and he smirked in return, “I’ll just go talk to Dr. Cho see what she has to say about your progress.”

He kissed your head, before standing and waltzing out of the room, patting Peter on the shoulder as he went. The door shut softly behind him and silence settled around you, Peter fiddling with the hem of his grey Stark Industries t-shirt, shuffling awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“How do you feel?” He asked softly, glancing up at you through his lashes and you didn’t have the heart to be mad at him anymore. It was stupid to begin with, looking back on it and it almost cost you your life.

You shrugged, wincing when even that hurt, “I’m okay, sore. Tired. Confused.”

He nodded, looking back down at the floor.

You sighed heavily, “Peter, look, I’m sorry for…storming out the way I did. It was childish and stupid and I know you were only joking about Michelle—“

“Do you know why I asked you to build the Lego Death Star with me?” he asked, cutting you off. He raised his gaze to yours and you could see a determination in those chocolate depths and you fell silent, shaking your head to answer his question.

“I asked you, because I like spending time with you,” He said quietly, voice unsure, “don’t get me wrong, I like spending time with Ned and Michelle, I do, but you’re…different,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing, “you don’t ask questions that I don’t have answers to and I know you know that something’s been off with me lately, has been since around the time uncle Ben—“ he cut himself off, voice shaking, “I—I’ve never met anyone like you before. Most people would revel in the fact that their dad is Tony Stark, billionaire and Iron Man, of all people, but you…you hide from it.”

He looked lost in thought, and it was like you weren’t even in the room anymore, “You could be the most popular girl in school and yet you chose to hang out with me and Ned, probably the most unpopular people in the entire school,” the confusion in his voice made your heart throb painfully, wishing more than anything that Peter could see himself the way you did, “I mean, c’mon, we spend our time playing with legos and watching documentaries and building tech out of stuff we get out of a dumpster,” he snorted derisively, shaking his head, “you could be homecoming queen and go to all the cool parties and—“

“Peter,” you said softly, reaching out to grab his hand, squeezing it gently between yours. He looked up at you, seemingly at a loss for words. This was the question that, for the first time in his life, he didn’t know the answer to and you couldn’t help the small laugh that escape your lips if you tried, “none of those things matter to me.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but you shook your head, “I’ve spent my entire life surrounded by people who only want to get close to me because of who my father is, to use me for my dad’s money or his status or his ideas. I don’t want a fan club, I want actual friends,” you explained gently, looking down at the soft white sheets that were beyond hospital regulation and tried to ignore the threat of tears pricking behind your eyes, “my dad almost died twice because someone I thought of as family tried to gain control of his tech and his money and that’s the scary part about all of this,” you said, flicking your gaze up to his, “I never know who’s in this for me, not my name and my connections and not my dad’s money, but for me. To see me as my own person and not as the daughter of someone with more money than ten countries put together, with the power to change the world with his ideas and the ability to protect it with his Iron Man suits and what’s left of the Avengers.”

“But you,” you continued, squeezing his warm hand, “you’ve never once seen me as Tony Stark’s daughter. You’ve never questioned why I wanted to study in the library or go to your apartment and never here, at the Tower. You’re not afraid to joke with me or tease me and you’ve never once pretended to be something you’re not in order to impress me or get me to notice you,” you couldn’t help but smile, “you’re so good, Peter. You just, you care so much about everyone and everything and I’ve never met someone, besides my dad, who just wants to be there for people. You’re so smart and kind to everyone and yet you still think that somehow, people deserve better than you, when in reality, some people don’t deserve you.”

Peter’s cheeks flushed bright red and your heart warmed at the sight, “I’m not good like you and the only reason I got into Mid-Town was because of my dad and his ‘anonymous’ donation the science department,” you said with a snort, “if it wasn’t for you tutoring me, I’d be flunking chemistry and physics.”

“I’m not smart like you,” you finished, your voice wavering, “or Michelle.” you added as an afterthought, “you deserve way better than someone like me.”

Peter was silent for a long time and when you braved a look up, he was staring at you, opened mouth, his brown eyes shining in disbelief, “Y/N,” he stammered, “You’re…everything,” he breathed, “You’re so smart and kind and you care so much about the people in your life. You spent years of your life trapped in this tower in order to protect your dad from getting hurt again and you don’t ask anyone for anything. You’re determined to make something of yourself without your dad’s help and you have the power— every reason to not be nice to someone like me, to be friends with someone like me,” he gave a breathy laugh, “I’ll never understand it, but as long as you know that I’ll never take advantage of you or hurt you in a way and I’m so sorry for what I said last night,” his cheeks flushed and he gave you a sheepish smile, “besides, I like Michelle, but I like hanging out with you more.”

You laughed, “Your secret is safe with me, I promise.”

He laughed, but it faded as soon as it came and something like guilt flickered in his eyes and he let go of your hand, standing up from his spot on the bed and you furrowed your eyebrows, confused.

“Peter?” You asked softly and you were unable to hide the worry in your tone. You could hear your heart rate pick up on the monitor beside you, but you ignored, focusing on the tense set of Peter’s shoulders as he turned his back to you.

“You need to rest,” he whispered, “I should probably go.”

Fear gripped your heart at the thought of being alone, at the thought of sleeping in this huge room by yourself and you reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him.

“W-Will you stay with me? Please?” You asked, borderline begging him not to leave.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered softly, his voice gentle and warm and something pulled at your memory. He turned around and sat back down on the bed next to you. He gripped your hand tightly, his other hand reach up and brushing the tears that had escaped your eyes off your cheek with gentle gentle fingers, “it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna leave, I’ll never leave you, Y/N.” he said fiercely, his eyes burning with his promise.

His voice was familiar, like you’d heard it before

“Will you stay with me?”

“I’ll never leave you, Y/N.”

How does he know my name?

A flash of red and blue

Your dad’s angry voice

“What’d you do to her, Parker?!”

“It was you.” You whispered, eyes wide as the dawn realization hit you like a slap to the face. And suddenly, everything made sense. His unexplained absences, the bruises, why he was tired all the time, why Spider-Man got to you so quickly, why he seemed to know your dad.

Peter was Spider-Man

Peter was silent, eyes wide with panic and guilt and you could see the million excuses in his eyes, trying to find one that would cover all the coincidence that weren’t just coincidences. He opened his mouth to explain, but no sound came out and it only confirmed every suspicion you had.

“You’re the one that saved me,” You said, disbelief coloring your tone, “you-you’re Spider-Man.”

You could see Peter wanted to deny it immediately, make up an excuse, deflect all the attention off of himself, but after a minute of stone cold silence, he finally, slowly, nodded his head.

A million things flashed through your mind, all at once and you weren’t sure what to say, what was appropriate to say at a time like this. You just found out your best friend, who you happened to be very much in love with, was a superhero and just happened to save you from god only knows what last night and well, what do you say at a time like this?

“Look, I know it’s shocking and weird, but please don’t say anything, okay? Ned knows, your dad knows and that’s it, I can’t let anyone else find out. This information could land in the wrong hands can be dangerous and—“

You weren’t sure what possessed you do it, but didn’t know how else you were supposed to say thank you and Peter’s nervous rambling was one of the cutest things about him and his lips were just there and so, you kissed him.

His lips were soft and warm and slightly chapped and frozen underneath yours.

You pulled away with an embarrassed smile, your cheeks flushing, “Peter, I—thank you.” You breathed sincere, squeezing his hand tightly, “thank you for saving me.”

He blushed, a bashful smile dancing on his pink lips, “You don’t need to thank me, Y/N,” he said humbly, “I’ll always be there to protect you.”

He squeezed your hand, a sad smile dancing on his lips, “Don’t feel like you have to, y’know, like me now or anything. I don’t expect you to return my feelings and I hope you don’t feel, like, obligated to—“

You cut him off with another kiss and this time, he returned it. His lips were hesitant and you could feel his inexperience in his movements, but you could only smile, your heart fluttering as he brushed his fingers through your hair, his hand tightening around yours as he shifted closer to you, cupping your cheek gently in his strong hand and you felt the familiar safety wash over you as you were pulled into his arms.

“Peter,” you murmured, running your fingers through his messy hair, “I liked you long before you saved my life, so don’t even start the self-sacrificing bullshit, okay?”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing, eyes bright, but there was a lurking insecurity that made your heart squeeze, “This could be dangerous, you know,” he began softly, “If anyone ever found out about me, they could use you to hurt me and I can’t do that to you—“

You understood the concern, but you couldn’t help the eye roll if you tried, ignoring the soreness in the left side of your face where you were sure you had a black eye, “My dad’s Iron Man and my god-father is War Machine, I almost feel sorry for the person that tries to do anything to me.”

He pouted, “Hey, I think I proved that more than capable of saving you, too,” but his eyes became serious, “I never want anything to happen to you and I’ll do everything I can to protect you from anything that comes your way.”

You smiled and he kissed you again, a quick peck before he untangled himself from you, ignoring your protests, “It’s late, Y/N, and you need to rest, those guys,” his face was grim, “they did a number on you.”

Your heart hammered against your chest at the thought of falling asleep, of closing your eyes and leaving yourself vulnerable to the nightmares you knew were sure to greet you when you did finally close your eyes.

Peter could read your anxiety and he squeezed your hand, “Hey, I’ll be here the entire time, nothing’s gonna hurt you, I promise.”

He sat down in the chair next to your bed to prove his point, and when you finally settled down, laying your head on the fluffy white pillow and closed your eyes, his hand still tightly grasped in yours, he brushed a kiss over your forehead.

“I’ll never leave you, Y/N.”

~~~~~~

I really hope you guys liked this and a side note, I don’t know much about Star Wars or if such a thing even exists lol. Feel free to let me know what you thought and if you have any prompts or suggestions for me, don’t hesitate to ask me (:

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officialdeathbycinema · 7 years ago

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Star Wars Official Trailer Analysis

OK! So i've watched...and re-watched...and rewatched...and analyzed this two and a half minute piece of cinema hypeness, and i've a few things to say if you don't mind...well, I really don't care if you do mind or not because it's 2:10 in the morning and i've been trying to bring my thoughts together on not only a trailer, but two movies as well, so fight me.

So we open to see an Imperial Officer looking silhouette staring at an assembly line. This could be Ben Solo, but for all intents and purposes, i'm going to assume this is the previously unseen "Rose" character, only officially depicted in Funko Pop! form. I'm honestly kinda interested to see what we see in this character, considering she's been so prominently featured in toy sales but no real promotional material for the movie itself (As i'm typing this however, I looked back and it really is just Ben).

Six seconds in and we transition, the change in scenery accompanied by Ces- I mean Snoke's voice over towards Ben, giving the audience a taste of what we have in store when it comes to the new Emperor-type Big Bad. We see a bunch of AT-M6 Walkers in a line for a span of three seconds, which then transitions into an overhead location shot of what i'm going to assume is Snoke's actual lair, which we see Ben and a good number of troopers walking in formation, presumably on the way to see the Supreme Leader (HA, Rocky and Bullwinkle reference!) at thirteen seconds in. Then a profile shot of Ben with his helmet on at fourteen seconds, which leads into him reaching down and picking up a new saber. This being essentially the same saber design, only sleeker, blacker, and more refined.

After that, a few seconds of black, followed by the blasting sound of a saber igniting and we see Rey on Ahch-To. We're gonna skip ahead to thirty-five seconds in, and watch Luke Skywalker take back his saber from Rey. But at thirty-eight seconds, we hear Rey say the line "Something inside me has always been there." Ok, that's a pretty cut and paste line, so i'll move on because that's probably one of the least interesting things to talk about in this trailer. Forty-one seconds into the trailer and Rey is entering the temple tree, where the books are held. Now in the first trailer we saw the insignia of the "Grey Jedi". Think of them as the agnostics of the Star Wars universe. That's obviously an oversimplification, but we can get to that topic later. Maybe when the films come out, but later. Forty-seven seconds in and she's training with a saber, and I'm really wanting to assume she's been here for a few months, and not just a week or two after the first film when this scene plays out (*cough cough, make Rey not a Mary-Sue anymore cough cough*). The force is apparently so strong with Rey that she can make the ground crack beneath her, which prompts Luke to say, in my opinion, a very interesting line.

At fifty-two seconds we hear Luke say the line: "I've seen this raw strength only once before. It didn't scare me enough then, it does now." Couple that with imagery of a building burning, more burning, and Luke's robot hand emerging from debris like he's in The Evil Dead, and people are going to assume one thing. They're going to assume that he's talking about Ben Solo. I however, do not think this is the case. Sure he underestimated Ben, but he wasn't scared of him because he was family, not because he had darkness in him. No, he's not talking about Ben, or Vader, or even Starkiller. No, I think he's talking about Sideous. Because if you remember the original trilogy, Luke was very, VERY headstrong when it came to defeating the dark side, and in turn didn't take the Emperor as a serious threat until it almost cost him his life...but now that he sees that same pure, raw power, it TERRIFIES him. But then it plays into the whole "Old man doesn't want to train young pupil for something that happened to them personally until they reluctantly give up" cliche that this series seems to want to jerk off like Ron fuckin Jeremy...but I digress. From one minute and three seconds in to one minute and eight seconds in, we hear Ben say the words "let the past die" while he subsequently DESTROYS his Darth Fanboy helmet (Which is what i'm going to be calling it from this day on forth). He could be talking about his time as an agent for the light side, or this could be a potential scene beginning a redemption arc for Ben where he tears away from his Kylo Ren persona. But then again, a redemption arc wouldn't be that fun when you can just kill the character before that happens in the slightest....or just have him evil, you know, because evil apparently isn't cool anymore, everything has to be "tragic and misunderstood"...AGAIN, I digress. Then comes a starship battle, and boy HOWDY is Ben one hell of a pilot. He says the line "Kill it, if you have to", which is in relation to the previous line of "Let the past die"...and then at one minute and fifteen seconds, we see General Leia....which basically is an "oh fuck" moment because I'm basically just calling it that she's gonna kick the bucket HARD in this movie, and the news of her playing a "pivotal role" is highly exaggerated.

One minute, seventeen seconds: Mommy senses baby through force, and vice versa...or IS IT? My whole thing about how the trailer is edited is weird, because there are some obvious weaving techniques being put in here to deceive the audience. So how I think this scene is going to play out is that Ben is ordered to destroy the Resistance base on that particular ship, which he does. But you know, since Snoke's whole thing is manipulation of Ben, and losing his mother (since it was explained in the last movie that his bond with Leia was far stronger than his bond with Han) would essentially put him in a state of darkness, making Snokes job WAY EASIER. So Snoke tells Ben "Hey, I don't like this Resistance ship. Blow it up." to which Ben replies "Alright, you've not really sent me astray before, why would you do it now? It's not like you're a manipulative dickbag that looks like a scrotum wrapped in one of Hugh Hefner's robes.". But then Snoke "fails" to mention that Leia is on that ship. She senses him, but since he's STILL not mature enough in the ways of the force (and sometimes this series throws continuity into the wind like Nana's ashes on a late summer evening), He doesn't sense her until it's too late. He doesn't sense her persay...but he senses a lack of her. He feels that classic disturbance in the force. He doesn't know why until later...and he doesn't know that he had just killed his own mother, a woman he loved so dearly, and the reason he was so conflicted about going fully dark side. But now that she's gone...Snoke can take him, and Ben is so distraught...that he listens, and fully accepts his role as not Ben Solo, but Kylo Ren.

BUT THAT'S JUST HOW I WANT THE SCENE TO GO DOWN, I DON'T THINK THE WRITERS ARE GONNA BE CLEVER ENOUGH TO DO IT THAT WAY.

One minute and thirty three seconds...Porg.

One minute, thirty seven seconds, Poe Dameron vs Ben Solo dogfight which is no doubt gonna be really cool. One minute, forty seconds, Finn vs. Brienne of Tarth in a giant Aluminum onsie...I mean Captain Phasma. Probably gonna be really cool, I just want more character growth in Finn since he had a pretty weak arc in Episode Seven (well, at least it was stronger than Rey's).

There's some more lines said by Luke which are pretty uninteresting, but at one minute and fifty-seven seconds, we see our first look at Snoke, and boy was I accurate in my description. You guys remember that scene in Deadpool where they basically just let TJ Miller riff at Ryan Reynolds for three uninterrupted minutes? Yeah, that. But my sister did raise a pretty good theory for this scene earlier, and she said that Rey might be experiencing one of Ben's memories...even though she's probably not.

Two minutes and three seconds, black screen with Rey's dialogue leading us into the most misleading part of the trailer which has the #Reylo shippers up in arms. We hear Rey say the words "I need someone to show me my place in all of this." and then we see Ben raise a hand towards the camera. Now upon first glance, we assume he's offering to take Rey under his wing...but these two shots aren't even in the same scene. The lighting is all wrong for this to be possible for one thing, two the tones of each shot are different as well. The light that is facing Rey camera left is pure, and unobstructed. She's in the temple tree on Ahch-To, presumably talking to Luke and convincing him to train her. But when the camera is on Ben, he's obviously in the tail end of a battle sequence. He COULD still be talking to Rey, but no, the line given is in a completely different scene. So no #Reylo shippers, your beloved character parallel fetish fodder is not canon yet, keep writing your fanfiction. Now that last paragraph could potentially label me as Anti-Reylo, but then again not only do I not care if I am labelled as such, I just don't care about the delicious death threats i'm BOUND to get from subsequently posting this analysis on Tumblr once i'm done posting it to Facebook.

Anyways, the credits roll three seconds after that, we're promised a film on December 15th, and the first week of tickets are probably already sold out as i'm writing this. But overall it was a decent trailer as far as analytical material goes, and I don't really think we need another since the movie is two months off.

So yeah, weeee Star Wars...I think the internet is just RUINING this new trilogy for me.

#reylo #star wars #the last jedi #rey #kylo ren #film criticism

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