Spider-Man Imagines I

Dizzy | Peter Parker [TH]

Peter grunted as he rolled off the blue mat, his back and shoulders smacking hard against the wall. He collapsed, flattening out and feeling his arms press against the cool floor. He stared at the ceiling and gasped for air.

"Are you serious, Peter?"

He groaned, forcing his body into an upright position. His hair fell in damp curls over his forehead. He pushed them back, knuckles sore from hitting the punching bag again and again.

"That was the messiest fall I have ever seen," you said, hands on your hips. "Are you all right? You didn't break something, did you?"

"No," he mumbled.

"Good," you said. "Get up."

He obeyed, wondering silently how he ever got stuck with you as his trainer. Not that he didn't like you - because he did, probably too much - but you were so tiny and breakable looking. You weren't someone who could win a war.

Maybe, Peter thought, you just looked small to him because you were just normal. No spider bite, no special powers. You were just a teenager that wanted to save people.

Just like him.

And on top of that, while he was reluctant to admit it, he wanted to protect you. Probably more than he wanted to protect anyone else.

"Are you ready?" you asked.

"Sure," he huffed.

"Want to fight?" you asked.

"Um," he replied.

You sighed, hands on your hips again. "Peter. You need to practice hand to hand combat."

He scratched the top of his head. "Y-yeah, but maybe I can practice that with Steve or someone. I-I don't want-"

"You're not going to break me, Peter," you assured him. "I can handle myself." Your eyes were soft. "And as much as I like how much you want to protect me, we have a war to fight soon and you need to be ready. We all do." You grabbed a bottle of water and uncapped it, taking a few gulps. "And we can't worry much about one another when there's a whole world to worry about."

With a serious tone, you turned away. Peter's shoulders slumped as he stared one unending, longing look at the back of your head.

He didn't care about the world. He cared about you.

"But if you don't want to fight against me, that's cool too. Steve is a good partner for that kind of stuff. Uh, actually, I was going to run an idea by you." You looked at him. "What would you think about ballet, Peter?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Ballet?"

"Uh-huh. You need to be lighter on your feet. More graceful. That fall you took? It would have killed you or at least left a serious concussion if the mat wasn't under you. Ballet could really help."

"You think so?" he asked.

You nodded, eyes sure.

He shrugged. "Okay. Let's do it."

"Really? That easy to convince you?"

"Sure," he said, grinning. "I trust you. But don't put me in a tutu, alright?"

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, Peter," you said, shaking your head.

"What?"

...

"You need to be light," you said, standing in front of him. "Pretend you weigh as much as a feather. Just be graceful." You reached out and grabbed his wrists.