#i feel like sprinting into a brick wall whenever i look at social media and she seems like shes totally recovered and fine and has

[uranium]

how it feels to be an adult but still completely unable to have normal relationships with people because of one girl that you dated when you were 18

[dragonleesupporter]

My First Story Ever! (First of the Paradigm Series): The Meet {WARNING: TRIGGERS}

Paradigm is a world of anthropomorphic wolfish creatures called greckens that live in a medieval-styled era where females are dominant and males are generally enslaved and treated as inferior.

This whole world was created and published here with a little inspiration from thetickleraven’s He Came From the Woods AU, so go check them out! This would not exist without them! 

 Critique is appreciated as this is my first story ever on this social media! If you have suggestions or requests, feel free to tell or ask me!

 {TRIGGER WARNINGS: This series will cover some adult, hard-to-swallow topics and includes some cursing, but some stories will be entirely cute, fluffy stuff. Just watch for the warnings! This first one starts with some traumatic flasbacks, so I’ll give this one a warning for those sensitive to that kind of thing.}

         The purple Grecken stood, hunched over and held in place by his binds as his heart raced. He could hear footsteps behind him as he desperately yanked on his confinements. More footsteps… He pleaded to deaf ears as he could hear the sound of metal on metal rise over the murmurs of disapproval.

 The dark basement that surrounded him was filled with the blood of past victims, yellow filling his eyes and a dreadful stench filling his nose. Through the cracks in the wall, he could see a million tiny white eyes gazing hungrily as a hoard of flesh-eating insects cleaned their mandibles in anticipation.

 “P-please! Don’t cut them! I’ll be a good boy! PLEASE! I’LL BE GOOD!” He shrieked, eyes popping out his skull as he saw the glint of a blade approaching from the shadows.

 “It doesn’t matter if you’re good or not. I want you here and now, and you must be in an acceptable form for the alchemists.” A deep, loathing voice sounded from behind him. Ritah’s voice. “Give me and my girlfriends a good laugh, and quit squirming!!”

 “NO! PLE-”

 The blade came down.

 “AH!” Alo woke with a start, nearly falling out of the tree he was in.

 He shook his head, trying to dismiss the remainder of the screams echoing in his mind. His dreams always consisted of small reminders. Like why he can’t be seen, why he can’t go back, … and why he can’t fly… That had been the second worst day of his life. The first worst day in question was the day he escaped…

 Another flaskback.

Working out on the field with alchemists bound to come for him any day to study his “unnaturality.” Handling back-breaking work alongside his father and other males Ritah had bought. Farming, cleaning, organizing, and pampering Ritah and her girlfriends… he was just a child at the time.

 The day following the removal of his wings, he was sent back out to the field. His father saw what had happened to him and pulled him aside when the girls weren’t looking.

 “Look here.” He said, placing his bruised hands together. “When I had my wings cut, the day after, I got a short spurt of energy due to the traumatic event. It’s biological… Sadly, I didn’t use it, and here I am. When your spurt comes, RUN. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing or where you are. Take advantage of that adrenaline! This energy comes very rarely. If you’re going to escape, it’s got to be today. You’ll be able to outrun them.”

 “B-but what if they catch me?!” The purple child quivered and squeaked, the very thought of trying to run away made him shake with fear.

 “They won’t. Now get out there before they realize you’re gone.” His father ushered him out of the bush quickly and got back to hoeing the new garden.

 Several hours later, when Alo’s burst of energy came while he was moving bales of hay in the barn, he hesitated. It felt as though all of his insides were vibrating as he sat there, shivering and twitching. Then, with a breath, he sprinted. He ran as fast as his beaten legs would carry him out the barn door, his feet slamming the hard ground and his breath sporadic.

 “HEY! GET THAT BRAT!” He heard Ritah howl infuriatedly behind him from the fields, the fire in her chest audible in her wild screeches.

 “No! You leave him be!” His fathers voice echoed before an ear-piercing shriek cut through the air sharper than an axe, making Alo run even faster.

 “Keep going Alo! Don’t look back! DON’T LOOK BACK!” His father’s voice faded into nothing but incoherent wailing as the poor child dove through a small gap in the barbed fence. It ripped the skin on his shoulders and face, but he didn’t care. His whole body was strangely numb as he forced himself deeper into the woods, all the screaming and yelling slowly disappearing behind him.

 That had been the worst...  and also technically best day of Alo’s life. The day that had granted him freedom, but also the day he lost his father. He knew his dad didn’t live a day after that, since his contributions to his escape was the equivalent to a death penalty. Alo only knew that because of what happened to his uncle, but that was the third worst day of his life, and the purple Grecken had done enough self-reflecting for the morning. He was hungry!

 …

 “One lame apple, two slices of filthy bread, and a swig from the river. Perfectly healthy breakfast.” The thief murmured sarcastically under his breath while he ate what was really a brunch.

 He found himself walking along the river several hours later as his mind wandered. Of course, he was always aware of his surroundings, looking around frantically in case anybody saw him and his “unnaturality,” but it was good to just let himself think for a while before he had to find his next meal. Every day he would travel toward the rising sun, away from where he came from. The thief didn’t know for how long he had traveled since his escape, all he knew was that he couldn’t stop. Not until he knew he was truly safe from Ritah… his mother…

 He sighed peacefully as he made his way under a bridge, the shade cooling the boiling hot sun that had eaten at him for past hour. With Alo unable to go into the water next to him, he was certainly grateful. In fact, he was so grateful that he didn’t realize the gold tracing the bricks in the construction.

 “Hey! What are you doing down there?!” A deep voice shouted from the bridge he had just wandered under as he passed through to the other side. “You’re on royal ground, peasant!”

 Alo looked up, surprised that his lack of focus had landed him in the sights of a castle guard. He always hated guards, they were so snotty and stuck-up and whenever they saw him, they’d chase him. One of the main nuisances that Alo had to deal with on a weekly of not daily basis.

 “Oh no! I’m breathing royal air?! Fuck you!” Alo shouted back and was about to run before he realized…

 “Wait… a male guard?? That NEVER happens! What kingdom am I in?!” He thought as the guard fumed red.

 “I’ll have you know such things are not tolerated in Dujokah!” The, now red, grecken flung himself off the bridge and into the forest to chase after Alo who had already started sprinting to the next bridge to cross over.

 “Well, I guess that’s one question answered.” Alo thought as he dashed across the bridge and into thick brush where he couldn’t be seen.

 After breaking through to the other side of the bushes, the thief jumped a couple brick walls for good measure. He silenced his panting and waited, until he was certain that he wasn’t followed. Aware he could very well be surrounded by guards unbeknownst to him, the purple grecken made a beeline for the castle before him, knowing that if the guard behind him couldn’t clear the walls he just jumped, no one would be able to reach him on top of the castle.

 The castle was easy to climb for the escape artist, but he realized a small flaw in his plan. Castles weren’t like huts or bars. They had sharp roofs that the thief couldn’t sit on and would likely either slide off of or pierce himself on the pointy tops. Luckily, there was a balcony just above him. After a cautious glance over the edge and realizing no one was inside the room that led out the balcony, the thief made his way onto the upper tier, just to see a dresser covered in makeup and jewels, as well as a royal bed and a whole-body mirror in the room connected to ledge.

 “Shit!” He thought. “This must be a princess room! I’m so dead!”

 He turned to leave but part of him whispered.

“No… get a jewel first.”

“Nah… I don’t need it.”

“Neither does the bitch who has it.”

“It’s not mine to take! I don’t take what I don’t need!”

“Come on… you know you want it.”

“No!”

 “Aaaaargh.” Alo growled and simply sat on the balcony armrest, looking down at the confused guards as they searched around for him several stories below… almost ALL of them male…

 “What a strange place...” He murmered. 

Alo decided to look up and felt his heart skip a beat. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, casting an array of reds and oranges onto the valleys just below it, and a wide selection of purples that stretched across the sky, the smallest specks of stars just coming into view…

 “Hello?” Suddenly came a voice, making the thief nearly fall of the ledge.

 Alo spun around and saw what he thought was a princess until he took a closer look.

 “WHY ARE YOUR EYES GREY?!”

“WHY ARE YOU A GUY?!”

 Both shrieked at the same time and pointed at each other fearfully...

 “A prince??” Alo thought as the other Grecken cautiously stepped forward.

 Yes… a very… attractive… prince. The grecken had golden fur with light blue eyes and white fur in the hollows of his ears. He wore a white, golden-laced, jeweled suit accompanied by light blue tights and sashes to match his eyes, golden shoulder plates, white shoes, a golden-laced dark teal cape, and of course, his crown.

 The prince looked at the stranger for a moment. Alo was a dark purple grecken with grey fur at the hollows of his ears as well as strange grey eyes. All he wore was a patchy dark blue hoodie and slightly loose jeans with bare feet gripping the railing.

 “What in Seah’s name are you doing on my balcony?” He huffed after returning to the present moment.

 “Okay… we got two options…” Alo thought to himself. “Tell him the truth, or fuck with him… hmmm. Let’s confuse the hell out of this bastard.”

 The purple grecken suddenly grew a sly smile.

 “Oh, you know. Just enjoying the view. But now I guess it’s been ruined with a royal pain giving me THAT look.” Alo pointed at the prince’s face, who seemed surprised at his sudden change in attitude. “But if you want me to leave, that’s fine.” Alo shrugged nonchalantly and jumped off the upper tier.

 Unknown to the startled prince, Alo had just latched himself onto the wall below the balcony to see what he would do.

 “Oh Seah!” He heard a frantic cry and footsteps rush to the edge as the strange golden grecken peeked his head over the ledge and blicked multiple times in disbelief, his mouth hanging wide open. “H-how are you doing that?” The prince raised an eyebrow, looking down at the, now smirking, hooded grecken.

 “I’m just holding onto a wall! But if you think THAT’S impressive…” Alo continued to spin and flip and launch himself all over the wall, never slipping an inch. All the years of him climbing walls while dodging guard’s arrows sure had become a skill of his.  

 When he looked back up, he was surprised at the awe-stricken gaze he received.

 “That was amazing!” The golden Grecken started to hop up and down as the boards supporting the balcony creaked slightly and dust fell from the bottom.

 “Woah, there. Careful. That balcony isn’t necessarily ‘new.’” The thief slid out from underneath the structure.

 “That WAS an amazing show, but I will not take orders from a peasant! You still owe me at LEAST an apology for breaking into my room, considering if you haven’t stolen anything! Even though I doubt you would, you NEED to apologize!” The prince suddenly got sassy and slightly childish, choosing to stamp his foot repeatedly to prove his point.

 SNAP.

 The prince opened his eyes to see a purple face looking at him with worry, but as soon as their eyes met, the stranger’s expression morphed into a cocky smile.

 “Now you owe me a thank you.” He hoisted the golden one back onto what was left of the balcony.

 “W-Well… I-I-I-I guess we’re even…” The prince, flustered, crossing his arms.

 “I suppose I should be more thankful to meet a PRINCE instead of princess. I’d be long dead by now if I were caught in a princess’s room.” Alo shrugged.

 “Yeah, that’s me. Shasta the Prince… the only prince.” The golden grecken looked down slightly with what looked like… sadness? But then it was wiped off as he turned back to the stranger, excitement taking it’s place.

 “Shasta, huh?” Alo raised an eyebrow.

 “Yes. Shasta the PRINCE. The HEIR, if you will. Who may you be?” Shasta tried to act mad or professional, but couldn’t help his tail wagging slightly at the thought that he was actually meeting someone outside his castle walls.

 “Alo the Unwanted.” The hooded figure chuckled slightly at his own self-deprecating joke just to receive a sharp gasp from Prince Shasta.

 “You aren’t unwanted! There’s got to be someone who wants you with them!” Shasta’s eyes started to look sad again. “Say… I think you’re quite cool! ... If not a little rude...”

 “Really?” Alo tried to hold back a hopeful smile that was fighting its way onto his face.

 “Yes!”

 “Well, that’s nice to hear.” Alo suddenly realized that he had just had a full conversation with a royal heir and had given him his NAME. He was supposed to be invisible! He couldn’t go around giving his identity out to handso- STUBBORN royal blood! He had to get out of there! 

“I got to get going now.” Alo, tried to hide his face as he started to climb back down the wall, afraid his newfound acquaintance would definitely give his location away to others who wanted to study or imprison him.

 “Wait! A-Alo, right? Will I see you again?” The prince called out hopefully.

 “N-no… I don’t think so.” Alo kept his face hidden and continued to climb down.

 “Pleeeeaaase? I’ll be here tomorrow at this time!” Alo paused for a moment. Had a prince really just… pleaded for him not to leave?

 “Nah. You’re not worth my time. Next time you’ll see me I’ll most likely be in shackles… farewell… Prince Shasta.”

 And just like that, he was gone. Leaving a whimpering prince to morn his empty space.

 “H-he’ll come back.” Shasta forced on a smile and looked into the sky that was being filled with more and more stars. The same sky he had stared at his whole life. “He’s got to come back… a-and he will. I can feel it.” He could feel doubt rising inside him like a bubble of uncertainty, but tried to ignore it as he forced back tears to smile at the beautiful sky.

 “I’m not going back.” Alo repeated to himself over and over as he snuck into a closed food market, slipping his hands into small cubbies and becoming a rock whenever someone walked by, tucking into his hoodie and rolling into a ball. “I’m not going back… I’m not going back.”

 Alo climbed a tree and settled into a branch and sighed to himself, frustrated at the fact that he couldn’t seem to get the prince out of his head.

 “I’m going back, aren’t I?”

[astarryon]

Just Drive!

Pairings: Peter Parker x High school!Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: In which Peter Parker, a boy you’ve literally gone to school with for nine years, apparently thinks you don’t possess basic logic.

A/N: Okay, so this one was actually such a joy to write! As someone who recently graduated high school, I guess you could say this was a bit of a love letter to senior prom, which was arguably one of the best nights of my life to date. Plus, Peter Parker is an adorable boy and everything about him just demanded a fluffy one shot. I’m not very used to writing stories that aren’t about Bucky, but I’m super happy with how this one came out! I hope you enjoy, and if there are any questions or comments, feel free to shoot them my way!

Masterlist

Requested by @johnmulaneyslut

— 

Realistically, Peter knew there was a first time for everything. It was just how the world worked. Humans made contact with the moon for the first time in the 1960s — unless you believed that the moon landing was an inside job, which Peter wholeheartedly did. Beyoncé had been the first black woman to headline Coachella, which Peter knew because MJ had insisted he and Ned stay the night at her house so that the three of them could have a viewing party of the livestream. Peter had complained at first, but had quickly found that there was a reason people referred to Beyoncé as a queen, and had promptly downloaded her three most recent albums. Aunt May kept talking about how Peter was shortly going to become her first kid to graduate from high school, and Peter never did have the heart to point out that he was her only kid. The big smile she got whenever she brought it up was enough to make Peter let the technicality slide.

So, yeah, Peter was pretty familiar with the fact of firsts.

The one first he hadn’t expected to come to pass, though, was running out of his web fluid while being actively pursued. Peter knew his supply had been running low, but he could’ve sworn that he had at least a week’s worth left. Earlier that morning he might have been willing to bet money on it, even.

He’d found out the hard way that he had been horribly wrong.

Saturday mornings were free range crime fighting days. Mr. Stark had told Peter that if he could commit to going to school and keeping his grades up, then the weekends were his to fight crime with as he pleased, and so Peter had agreed. His GPA was up, much to May’s delight, and petty crimes were down, much to Peter’s satisfaction. Spiderman was now getting as much media love as Captain America — before Steve had become a war criminal, that is.

He’d been out in the mid morning sun, creeping around the rooftops of Queens and surveying the scenes below. Nothing much was out of the ordinary as far as he had noticed, and so Peter was free to bask in the sun, its rays shining down on his suit and lending him a pleasant sense of warmth. If it stayed slow like this, breakfast might be his next pursuit. Peter had been awful about eating in the mornings lately, and today he was particularly hungry. Crepes sounded good; he could really go for a crepe, in fact.

“Hey, Karen?” he inquired, dragging out the ‘a’ in the AI’s name. Absentmindedly, he used a foot to kick rubble from the edge of the rooftop, watching as it hurtled towards the ground.

“Yes, Peter?”

“Can you tell me if there are any restaurants that sell crepes around here? Or maybe—“

“Hey, stop!” a high pitched voice called from the streets below. Searching for the source of the distress, Peter scanned around until he saw the form of a white haired, elderly woman. “Someone help! That man took my purse!”

“Okay, scratch that, Karen,” Peter corrected, already flinging himself over the ledge of the building. His left arm extended, shooting webs out and lifting him through the air as he pursued the man running down the street. Peter was thankful for the action on what was otherwise a horribly slow day, but the motive of the crimes never failed to baffle him. Stealing from an old woman? Seriously? Some people had zero boundaries.

He made quick work of stopping him, allowing his body to arc through the air and crash down on the offender, Peter’s momentum sending the both of them tumbling over the rubble. Peter’s suit, thankfully, protected him from the scratches and bruises which might have resulted, ultimately saving him from the freak out May would’ve had once she caught sight of them. The guy Peter had taken down, however, hadn’t had the luxury of a full body suit made of Stark tech, and so he was bound to be a bit more... irate. Peter wasn’t about to concern himself with that, though. He’d be out of here in thirty seconds or less.

“I’ll take that,” he told the guy, yanking the woman’s purse from the man’s hands. “You know, I’m willing to bet your mother wouldn’t be very proud to know you’re stealing from old ladies.”

“I’ll kill you, you fucking son of a bitch,” the guy hissed, trying to reclaim the breath that the impact of Peter’s body had knocked from his chest.

“Mouthy,” Peter taunted, letting out a low whistle. He used his web shooters to send the purse flying backwards, attaching it to the brick wall which was just beside the woman, failing to notice the stringy quality of the substance which was indicative of the fact that he was running on reserves. Peter raised his hand in a farewell wave as the old lady called out her thanks. “Sorry to say you aren’t gonna get the chance, bud,” he aimed back at the criminal. Then, raising his hand to the sky, Peter directed his wrist toward a tall building and fired his webs.

Six feet of silk released before detaching from Peter’s suit and falling to the ground like a cut ribbon.

“Uh,” Peter started, ignoring the sense of panic in his chest. No need to freak out yet, right? This could totally just be some weird fluke. “Karen? Can you switch my web shooter setting to normal? Kind of have places to be that don’t involve salty criminals.”

“Web shooter liquid has been depleted, Peter,” Karen informed him. “No webs can be formed without an immediate refill.”

Okay. So maybe he was a little justified in freaking out.

“Why didn’t you tell me how low I was?” Peter demanded, slowly backing away from where the purse snatcher was now beginning to stand. The guy was eyeing Peter like he was an easy target — which he kind of was, thanks to the loss of his main mode of transportation.

“I did recommend you switch canisters this morning.”

“Karen, can you do me a favor and not sound so smug right now?”

The purse snatcher lunged at Peter, narrowly missing, and Peter broke into a full on sprint, pushing the guy as he ran passed him and surveying the area, looking for an out. The street wasn’t overly busy for a Saturday morning. In fact, there were only a few other people out to witness the current spectacle, but that did nothing to reassure Peter. The guy chasing after him had been willing to rob an old lady in broad daylight; god only knew what he was capable of doing to a teenager in a superhero suit.

Peter wasn’t much for swearing, but this was an absolute bitch of a bad situation to be in.

“Shall I alert Mr. Stark to the trouble?” Karen asked, pulling Tony’s contact information into the corner of Peter’s field of view.

“Absolutely not!” he screeched, turning to look over his shoulder for a moment. The man was still in hot pursuit, seeming to barely be out of breath. Determined, wasn’t he? “Just... let me think for a sec!”

He couldn’t keep running like this. His lungs already felt like they were burning, and Peter had never been much for long distances anyway. His web shooters were out of fluid, so his normal out wasn’t an option. No way would he be able to match up with this guy in a fist fight at the moment, not with how scattered his brain was with adrenaline. So what could he do? What could he come up with that wasn’t going to get him murdered?

Mercifully, the answer appeared just a few feet ahead of him in the form of a light blue Prius, parking by the curb at the end of the street.

—

“So can you come dress shopping with us today?” Davina asked you, her voice filtering through the speakers in your car. You thought on the question, debating as you made a smooth right turn onto the next street. “Or would it be better for us to wait until this weekend so we can all go together?”

“Honestly D, I’m not even sure I want to go,” you admitted. Prom was cool and all, and you loved watching your classmates and friends make fools of themselves on the dance floor, but you just weren’t feeling it this year. Which was a damn shame, considering the theme was particularly kick ass and all your friends who had graduated the year previous had taken to social media to express their discontent with their senior prom theme in comparison. “You know I’m all for partying, but I just... I don’t know. It’s in a week and a half and I haven’t even bought my ticket.”

Davina wasn’t exactly the correct person to say this to. You may have liked school dances and football games, but Davina loved them. They were essentially your best friend’s way of life, given she was president of the school spirit committee. She set up the decorations, coordinated fundraisers, and essentially worked her ass off in order to give everyone an amazing senior year. You admired her for her ambitions and her will to provide a great experience for everyone, and you were curious as to where the drive for it all came from.

“Y/n, seriously? I’ve been reminding you every day for like a month! It’s not because you don’t have a date, is it?”

You rolled your eyes, thankful she wasn’t present to see. “No, Davina, I just—“

“Because you know you could ask anyone you wanted and they would probably say yes, right? You’re a fucking catch.”

“That’s what you keep saying,” you sighed. Swinging a left, you drove to the end of the street and parked, trying to figure out the best way to tell your friend that you really just weren’t feeling prom this year. Maybe it was a subject saved for another day. “Listen, D, I have to go inside and get to my dentist appointment, okay? I’ll text you after and let you know about dress shopping for sure.”

Moot point; you knew she wasn’t going to take you bailing out of prom for an answer.

Davina said goodbye and you hung up the phone, twisting your keys in the ignition so that the car turned off and unbuckling your seatbelt. It was such a beautiful morning, sunlight streaming through the windows of your car. Shame that you had to spend the best parts of it in a dentist chair; by the time you finished, the streets were sure to be filled with families and laughing children, adding a noisier element to the otherwise peaceful part of town.

Just as you had twisted to open your door and exit the car, your passenger side door was thrown open and slammed shut in under a second, a body wrapped in red and blue having been deposited into your passenger seat. For a moment you said nothing, looking up and taking a second to process the person beside you, the insect like eyes of their mask staring right back at you.

And then you screamed. Loud.

“Look, I’m really sorry,” their voice filtered through the mask, slightly high pitched and out of breath. He reached across you as he spoke, pulling your keys from your fist and inserting them into the ignition before harshly starting your car. The engine sputtered to life, the familiar hum of your vehicle now present beneath your legs. “But this is an emergency and I don’t have a lot of time to explain, so just drive, okay?”

You continued to stare and couldn’t form words, opting to just scream again. Normally you weren’t so jumpy and scatterbrained, but what could be expected of you in this moment? Somebody dressed as Spiderman was essentially carjacking you.

They placed a hand on your shoulder, shaking you hard. “Y/n! Fucking drive, okay? Drive!” That last exclamation was punctuated by someone slamming their body into the passenger door of your car. From what you could see of the offender, they were a large, middle aged man, and they possessed the unmistakable light of malice in their eyes. Your fight or flight response kicked into overdrive, and without even really being conscious of your actions, you reached down to shift your car into drive, stomping on the gas pedal and shooting your car forward, tires squealing against the pavement as you peeled out of your parking spot.

Okay. So, no dentist appointment for you today after all.

Fake Spiderman owed you a teeth cleaning appointment.

“Thank you,” he sighed, his masked head leaning back and hitting the head rest in relief. You couldn’t see his facial expression, but you imagined it was reflective of his voice. “Man, that guy was not happy with me.”

“Wait a second,” you started, trying to stare at the man — the boy — beside you while simultaneously keeping an eye on the road, still totally unwilling to stop the car lest that man catch up with you guys. That voice. You knew that voice, had heard it a million times in AP US History. “Fucking— Peter Parker? What the fuck are you doing running around Queens in a shitty Party City Halloween costume?”

Though his face was obscured, it was easy to picture the look of offense present there. “Okay, you don’t have to be mean, alright? Mr. Stark spent a lot of time making—“ He cut himself off in a panic. “Wait, how do you know who I am? I thought—“ Once again, he cut himself off. This time around, he attempted to deepen the tenor of his voice. “I mean... who, who’s Peter Parker? I don’t know a Peter Parker.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you threw at him, the right turn you made a little harsher than expected. Thank god the streets weren’t busy this morning. “You called me by my name and we’ve literally been going to school together since we were eight. You really think I’m not gonna recognize your voice just because you’re wearing a shitty mask?”

“It’s not shitty!” he insisted, reaching up to pull the mask from his head in order to shoot you a dirty look. You recognized the kind, brown eyes which peered at you, the messy hair which was usually a little more styled. His cheeks were flushed, a testament to how out of breath he had been before jumping into your car. “This whole suit is made of Stark tech! It’s, like, the smart phone of super suits. I really am Spiderman!”

“Whatever you say, Peter Parker,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes and focusing back on the road. Davina would flip if she knew what was happening right now; not because Peter himself was in your car, but just because Peter was in your car and happened to be a guy. “If you’re really Spiderman then prove it. Show me those web things you use to get around town.”

Peter’s cheeks suddenly flushed even redder, and you were slightly taken aback with how cute the sight was. “I’m kind of out of those right now. It’s why, uh, it’s why I had to ask you for a ride.”

“A likely story,” you scoffed, unable to help the tiny smile which resulted. Practically nine years of school together and Peter Parker remained the same sweet, shy boy as always. “And this is more along the lines of kidnapping, if anything.”

“It was an emergency,” Peter defended himself, directing his gaze over his shoulder. You knew he was looking for the guy he’d been running from, and you also knew that he wouldn’t find him; you’d turned far too many corners for the guy to have kept up at this point, unless he had super speed abilities. Once he was satisfied with what he saw, Peter turned back to you, offering a smile which made him look like a happy puppy. “Um, so... how’d you do on that history exam last week?”

You couldn’t help the laugh which escaped you, allowing it to roll through your chest. This whole situation was just so comical. The craziest thing was, you were pretty sure you’d had weirder experiences with Peter Parker. “Got a solid C, dude. Swanson’s a bitch when it comes to grading. I swear I never get anything over an 85 on his assignments.”

“Oh,” Peter responded, reaching a hand up to scratch at his neck. “Well I could tutor you, if you ever wanted. I know we only have a few more months left in the year, but finals are gonna come up pretty quick.”

“I might actually take you up on that,” you told him, shrugging a shoulder to yourself. It was no secret that Peter was smart. He was just shy of having top grades of the senior class, second only to Michelle Jones. “So...” Why was it so hard to find topics to converse about while you drove? Was it because you hadn’t been expecting company? Was it because your fight or flight response was still acting up? Was it because you hadn’t had a real conversation with Peter in a couple of months, now? Your previous conversation with Davina echoed in your mind, giving you the perfect topic to fill the silence. “You, um, you excited for prom?”

Surprisingly, Peter’s face became indifferent, and he used a blue and red shrouded hand to rake through his hair. “As much as anyone else, I guess. I’m kind of thinking about not going, but May would throw the biggest fit if I skipped out on senior prom. She says making memories is real important, or whatever.”

Huh. You’d been told the same thing by Davina a little over a million times.

“Well, you could ask someone,” you suggested, internally rolling your eyes at yourself. Hadn’t that been what your best friend had suggested to you? And hadn’t you wanted to make it clear to her that a date wasn’t going to make you want to go to prom any more than you already did? “You’re really good friends with Michelle, right? She’d probably say yes if you asked her to go as friends or something.” You’d seen the two of them around in the hallways plenty of times, always tipping their heads together like fiends toiling away at some master plan.

“Nah,” Peter responded, “Ned asked MJ forever ago. Some kind of pact the two of them have. I’d just be third wheeling it if I did end up going. Prom’s in a week and a half, and pretty much everyone has a date by now.”

You laughed to yourself, shaking your head and guiding your car back onto the main road. Not that you had realized it previously, but this was the route to Peter’s house; you must’ve started on it once you’d realized who had dive bombed your car. “Not everyone, Peter Parker.”

He gave you a strange look, arching a brow up out of curiosity. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“What, your name?”

“My full name,” he pointed out. “That’s like the third time you’ve called me Peter Parker.”

You shrugged, not having realized what you had been doing but unwilling to admit this to Peter’s face. Not that he could judge much; he was the one running around in a fake Spiderman costume, after all. “Keeps you on your toes, I guess.”

“Sure,” he laughed. “And did you say that you didn’t have a date to prom yet?”

“Not in so many words,” you told him. “But, uh, yeah. No date for me. I’m not really sure I’m going to prom either.” And somehow? Admitting this to Peter didn’t automatically make you feel embarrassed, as it had when you’d dared to speak the same words to Davina. When had Peter become such an easy person to talk to?

Peter only smiled, suddenly and pointedly gazing out the passenger window. “Weird. I figured Flash would have talked your ear off asking you to go with him.”

You were unable to help the snort Peter’s words dragged out of you. “As if. Flash is sweet, I guess, but he’s... not really my type.”

“And, just out of curiosity,” Peter mused, seeming to have found the courage to look back at you. Same goofy smile as always; charming, really. Had been since the third grade. “What exactly is your type?”

You blinked a couple times, trying to contain your amusement. “I’m sorry, but if you’re trying to make a pass at me, you might wanna wait until you’re not sitting in my car wearing a Halloween costume.”

“This is a real— you know what? Forget it.” For a moment you were worried you had offended him, but a sideways glance told you Peter’s mind seemed to be working a mile a minute. He looked amused, looked like he had a secret he wanted to tell you but wasn’t sure if he should. Eventually he let it go, glancing at you and making your heart flutter a bit in your chest before gesturing to the windshield. “Next street’s mine, in case you didn’t remember. Just, be careful when you make the turn; there’s roadwork ahead.”

And before you could even use common sense to stop yourself, you were already saying, “Uh, yeah, I sure hope it does.”

This reference won you a hearty laugh, one which seemed impossibly too big to have come from the slight boy beside you. “Amazing,” he breathed in between fits of laughter. Funny; Peter laughed like you were the funniest person in the entire world, though he was sure to have head the reference a million times before. “You’re amazing.”

“And you’re just saying that,” you told him, pulling up to the curb outside his apartment building. You put your car in park, twisting your keys in the ignition and looking over to Peter once you were no longer obligated to be conscious of your surroundings. “If I ask why that guy was chasing you through the streets, are you gonna tell me the truth?”

He shrugged a shoulder, toying with his mask down in his lap. Was it just you, or did Peter seem a little more nervous now that he had your full attention? “I was stopping him from robbing an old lady. He tried to steal her purse, and I made sure that didn’t happen. Because I’m—“

“Spiderman, right, got it.” If Peter wanted to stick with his story, you supposed it was all you could do to play along. “Whatever you say.”

“You don’t wanna believe me, that’s fine,” Peter offered. “Keeps my secret identity protected anyway. God knows I do not need Mr. Stark breathing down my neck about endangering civilians.” He paused for a few minutes, unsure of what to say next, and he still wouldn’t look at you directly. You weren’t exactly naive as to why; you were pretty, and Peter thought so. It wasn’t you being vain, it was just a fact. The blush on his cheeks was the same one that appeared each time he glanced your way in class, each time he supplied you with a pencil to borrow. “Anyways, thanks for helping me out back there. Don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been around to save my ass.”

You shook your head and shrugged a shoulder. “Only cost me a dentist appointment, so no sweat. I’m sure you’ll figure out some way to make it up to me.”

Peter gave you a nod, and another nervous laugh. “Yeah, that, um... yeah. I’ll think of something. So, uh, I’ll— I’ll see you in Swanson’s class?”

“See you in Swanson’s, Peter Parker,” you affirmed. You stared after him as he gave you a wave, then climbed out of your car, carefully closing your passenger door behind him and making his way towards the door of his apartment building.

Just as you were about to turn your car back on, your phone buzzed with a text message alert. Leaning down to pick it up, you saw Davina’s name appear on the screen. You could’ve sworn you had just hung up the phone on her; had it really already been a half an hour?

So is dress shopping a go, or should Elle and I wait until this weekend for you?

Well...

Peter Parker.

What the hell?

Scrambling to open your door, you did your best to quickly stand, calling out to the boy you’d just said goodbye to. “Hey! Peter Parker!”

Peter whirled around, having just made contact with the door to his building. Abandoning it, he walked a few feet back towards you, just so you the both of you wouldn’t have to yell back and forth quite as much. “Yeah, Y/n?”

You threw your hands up in the air, your smile wide and perhaps a bit flirtatious. “I was dropping all these hints and you were really just gonna take off on me before asking me to prom? Seriously? It’s the least you could do for getting in the way of my dental health, don’t you think?”

For a few minutes, Peter stared at you blankly, seeming genuinely confused. For the second highest grades at Midtown, Peter was just a bit dense, wasn’t he? “Oh, you...” He came closer, until he was stood just a foot or two away. Now you had the chance to take in his entire suit, and while you had originally thought it was a fake... the more you stared at Peter, the realer his suit looked. Well, Spiderman or Fake Spiderman, there would be time to deduce that later. Right now, your priorities were set in a bit of a different motion. “Well, I mean, did you— did you want to go to prom? With me?”

Had you been inclined to go to prom previously? Not really. Now that Peter Parker had quite literally dropped into your car and the possibility of going with a sweet boy stood? Well, now you were a little more interested.

“I would love to,” you told him, smiling knowingly. Was this how flirting worked? Would Peter Parker even know? “You still have my number, right? From that time we did that group project together a few months ago?”

“R-right,” Peter told you, nodding once before smiling widely. “Yeah! So, um. I’ll text you? MJ and Ned were thinking of going out to dinner, so maybe we can all just pick a place together and double date it? Or, if you wanted to go by ourselves we could do that, too? And I don’t, um, I don’t have a car, but I could ask May to borrow hers for the night? I bet she wouldn’t mind, but—“

“We have a week to figure it out,” you laughed, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. His suit definitely didn’t feel as Party City as you thought it would. “But, yeah, going to dinner with Ned and MJ sounds like loads of fun. Saves me from having to deal with Davina’s asshole boyfriend anyway. And we’re, um. I’m about to go dress shopping, so I’ll text you what color I end up picking so you can coordinate, okay?”

Peter’s smile only grew wider and brighter. “That’s great, yeah! So I’ll, uh, I’ll see you around, then? Like... not just in Swanson’s class?”

You nodded, climbing back into your car. “See you around, Peter Parker.” You started the engine, your car humming to life. Peter was still staring at you, seeming absolutely dumbfounded at what had just taken place. Looking at him just then, so excited and unsure, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to roll down your window and say, “And as for the corsage, I like lilies! You forget that and you’ll have to find yourself another date.”

“Noted,” he laughed. He waved again, this time for the last time, and hurried back to his apartment building, slipping through the door and out of your sight. Smiling to yourself and unable to completely comprehend just what this morning had thrown at you, you reached down to grasp your phone, typing out a message to Davina before buckling your seatbelt and driving off and toward the mall.

Looks like I have a date to prom after all. Dress shopping is a go.

—

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