Spider-Man Imagines I

The Choices We Make (Part One) | Peter Parker [TH]

Peter was getting tired of trying to figure out Norman Osborn. The man was insane, he could tell that much, and he was a killer that hid his identity in the Green Goblin. But no one but him knew that, and no one could separate Norman from the Green Goblin.

The Green Goblin was a killer. He had taken several innocent lives during an attempt to kill Spider-Man. The weight of those lost sat heavy on Peter's shoulders. It was his job to protect those people. He had no choice but to expose Osborn for the sick man he was.

Peter was currently swinging across Queens, the night relatively quiet. He was grateful for the absence of crime. It meant he could finally see you, no matter how brief that time would be before he launched himself into work once again.

He landed at your window and knocked three slow times. It was his knock, the sound he'd use to let you know that he was there.

(Not like anyone else was capable of climbing up six stories and knocking on your window).

He smiled beneath the mask as he saw your curtains part and your hands fumble with the lock quickly. Once it unlatched, he lifted the glass and ducked his head in, his left foot stepping inside.

"Hey," he said, holding onto the ledge as he moved his right foot in.

"Hi," you greeted, smiling softly. "How was it tonight?"

"Not too busy," he said, sliding the window shut. "Thank goodness. I really missed you."

"Yeah?" you asked, eyes soft and full of love. You opened your arms and he wasted no time to rip his mask off his face, toss it on your floor, and throw his arms around you.

He lifted your feet off the ground, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply. You pressed yourself against him, humming happily as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair, still damp from your recent shower.

This, he thought, is what I needed.

You were his constant reminder of why he did what he did. The reason he endured bruises and broken bones and tried not to complain that he had to limp home instead of the hospital.

He pulled back, his eyes melting as he looked at you. You stood back on the ground, just smiling up at him like he was the entire world to you. Which he thought was ridiculous (but also loved).

"Are you gonna stay for a while?" you asked.

He shrugged. "If you want me to," he said. "There's no where else I'd rather be."

You dropped your hands from his shoulders, smiling to yourself. "I'll go make some snacks and we can watch a movie if you want." You pointed to your desk chair, where a familiar pair of grey sweats and blue hoodie were draped. "Those are yours, if you wanna change. I stole them from your backpack in gym yesterday. I'm not sorry, either. Also, I washed them for you."

He dropped his head and laughed, his face wrinkling up and his tongue poking out between his teeth. He grabbed the clothes.

"I'll let you change," you said, shutting the door and heading down the hall.

He heard your footsteps as you scurried down the hallway and through the living room. He smacked his hand against his chest, hitting the spider at the center of his suit. It slid to the ground. He heard a cabinet door open, close, then open again and the sound of a microwave starting. He shrugged on the sweatshirt and pants, tossing his suit on your desk chair.

Since he still had time to spare, he looked at your movie shelf. He smiled, noticing how most of the DVDs were Disney films. He ran his fingers across the spines, chuckling at your impressive collection of princess movies.