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uglypastels · 6 years

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CONGRATS ON 1.1K BBY YOU DESERVE IT SO SO MUCH!!! could I have a ✏ I really love to write and a title is "how to be your own hero" idk thank you so much have a great day!!! ❤🧡💛💚💙💜💗

Aawww thank you so much! 💙💜💗❤🧡💛💚

Okay, so I have to admit, this title was a pretty hard one. After a long time of thinking I came up with an idea and I hope you like it. Sorry if it isn’t what you expected/wanted.

It also turned out more like a “medium” story than a “short” story, but yeah… here it goes.

How To Be Your Own Hero // Peter Parker

“Whatcha doing there?” Peter asked, sliding into the seat next to (Y/N). Startled at the sudden presences next to her, she jumped up, closed her notebook quickly. She must have realized soon that it was, in fact, Peter who sat down next to her, because her shoulders lost the tension and she smiled.

“Oh, uhm, nothing. Just writing.”

“New or old story?” Peter leaned on his arm as he talked.

“New.” She said, opening her notebook again, writing down a sentence and closing it again. She did that often, Peter had noticed. She always walked around with the notebook in reach so anytime inspiration hit, she would be able to write it down as quickly as she could.

“Cool. Will I get to read this one?”

“Absolutely not.” She scoffed, putting the notebook away in her bag. Peter was a bit surprised by that. She almost never put it away. And if she did, it was into her pocket. Never so far into a backpack that she couldn’t reach it in two seconds if needed.

“Seriously, when are you gonna let me read something? You are like, so good.”

“Wow, thanks.” She gave him a tight smile. One that Peter wasn’t sure of if it was genuine. No matter the answer, he decided to ignore it.

“Can you at least tell me what you’re writing about?”

“If I tell you, I would have to kill you,” she said in a stone cold tone, causing Peter to laugh. That, however, faded when he realized she wasn’t joining him. She looked straight into his eyes for a good five seconds, before giggling. “That was a joke, Parker. You’re a loser, you know that?”

“Pretty much.” he shrugged with his shoulders. Then, the bell rang, motioning the rise of all the students at Midtown High from their lunch tables and the big march to classes followed. Peter and (Y/N) repeated the actions of everyone else in the cafeteria. During their walk to class, Peter kept on nudging her and tried to get something out of her. Did she find it annoying? Probably. But he was too stubborn to care at the moment.

“C’mon, (Y/N),” they sat down at the desks next to each other. “I don’t get it why you won’t let me read anything. I can read the stuff you write for school, so why not this?”

“You already answered your own question, Parker.” She said casually as she started to get the things out of her bag, including her little purple notebook. “That’s for school, so people will read that anyway. This,” she ticked on the cover of her notebook, “is mine and I would like to keep it that way.”

“Right, sorry,” Peter leaned back in his seat and their conversation ended as the teacher started the class.

________________________________________

A few more hours passed and it was finally the end of the day for everyone… except for the decathlon team. They were seated in the library, everyone around one big table, making notes and looking through at least a hundred different books to prepare themselves for the upcoming regionals.

It was quiet. Like most of the times when they had their meetups in the library. Everybody would work on what they were assigned, mostly keeping to their own business. Sometimes they would have little breaks from the silence, just to ask questions about things they didn’t understand. In the end, they would go around the table and share with the group with the progress that they had made.

Usually, Peter had no trouble with this format of working. He worked best alone. But today, he couldn’t concentrate on a single word in any book he tried to read. His eyes kept finding their way over to (Y/N), who was sitting right next to him.

Unlike him, she was actually doing what had been asked of her, researching as much as she could about… Peter couldn’t remember what she was assigned to do. Neither could he remember what he was asked to.

Every now and then, she would stop reading and something down. Sometimes it were notes about the text, sometimes it was in her own mystery notebook. Peter tried to catch a glimpse at what she was writing. He didn’t even know why he wanted to read her writing so badly. It was probably the fact that she didn’t let him that made him so curious. He also just wanted to know what it was that his friend did every minute of every day.

He didn’t even realize he was staring until it was too late. His eyes were transfixed in a dazed state on her hands as she scribbled down words. Suddenly her hand stopped moving, but Peter’s eyes were still locked on the pen she was holding. He was completely zoned out. A cough brought him back.

“What are you doing?” It was (Y/N). Peter looked up at her face. His eyes dry from not blinking too long. She raised an eyebrow at him and Peter felt his cheeks heat up.

“Uuh, sorry,’ he scratched the back of his neck. He looked away, too embarrassed to look at her now.

“You zoned out back there.” then she laughed a little. “Anything on your mind?”

“What? No… kind of the opposite.” He admitted. It was true, his mind was blanking and it annoyed him.

“Hmm, I see.” She gave him this kind of look that made Peter shiver. Her bright eyes seemed to go right through him. Her mouth opened to say something else, but MJ chimed in. “I’m gonna go find some more books. Anyone care to help?” She looked around the table.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you. I need to go and find something about Francis Crick, anyway.” (Y/N) smiled and the two girls went off, disappearing behind some bookshelves. Peter had followed them with his eyes until he couldn’t see the last rogue curl from MJ’s ponytail. His eyes fell back to his stack of open books, already getting slightly overwhelmed by all the information he had to cram into his head. After one attempt at trying to read a paragraph, he gave up, leaned back in his chair and sighed.

He looked around at the rest of the team, nobody was paying attention to him, too busy reading and writing. Then his eye caught a glimpse of (Y/N)’s part of the table. It was much neater than his own or anyone else’s for that matter. All the books she had used were stacked in a small pile. Her notes were color-coded and written in a perfect handwriting. It was an organizers dream. But it was not what caught Peter’s attention.

There, next to her notes, under her pencil case, lay the purple notebook. The edges of the pages were uneven from water damage and it’s frequent use.

Peter had to keep in any urge to grab it and read what was written inside. This was probably the only chance he had to ever do it. But it was wrong, (Y/N) didn’t want him to read it and she probably had a good reason for it too. It was really none of his business what was in that notebook. Then again, that never stopped him doing stupid things before.

Very casually, he leaned forward to pick up the pencil case and slide the notebook towards him. He probably didn’t have much time before (Y/N) and MJ would come back from their library book haul. He opened the notebook on a random page in the middle and quickly scanned the words, not reading it thoroughly, just enough to understand whatever the story was.

But he didn’t even need to read that much to understand what he was reading. He knew this story already. He had lived it himself. He was reading about last weeks Chemistry class. A collective groan escaped the whole class as Mr. Cobwell announced a surprise test for today’s class.

Peter remembered that. He browsed through the pages, just glimpsing at different parts of the texts. He stopped when he caught a glimpse of his own name. He went back to the page he saw it on and started reading. Peter just sat there, not listening to the people around him talk. Too consumed with his own thoughts. Though his body wasn’t showing it, his dark mahogany eyes filled, yet still sparkling, with concern and confusion.

There was no dare around the text, so he had no idea when (Y/N) wrote this. Before he could get a proper look at the rest of the writing, he heard footsteps. His senses told him it was (Y/N) and MJ coming back to the table. (Y/N)’s happy laugh confirmed it completely. Without thinking he closed the notebook and slid it back to (Y/N)’s spot at the table. This was not a smart idea, as the action caused all of her things to move around and the notebook was still far away from its original placement.

The two girls came back, both laughing at something. Peter looked down at a book in front of him (he didn’t even know which one) hiding his face from them with his arm. He didn’t look up when they came around to the table; he didn’t look up when (Y/N) walked back to her seat next to him and he definitely did not look up from his textbook when she froze in her spot, looking down at her things. It was obvious she knew what happened.

Fortunately, she didn’t call Peter out in front of everyone. Instead, she sat down, re-organizing everything around her. He could feel her eyes on him. Oh, she definitely knew it was him.

For the rest of the hour, Peter didn’t dare to look away from his book. Too scared of what would happen if he accidentally found his gaze wander off to (Y/N) again.

“Okay, I think we’re done for today.” MJ closed a book in front of her nose. Peter cringed at the loud sound. Everyone around him started to clean up their things. Peter did it extremely slow, hoping that in the end, he would be the last one to leave the library. That way he could maybe avoid walking back home with (Y/N). The possible confrontation was giving him all the anxiety he did not need right now.

“Peter, you coming?” his head shot up from his pen. He had been holding it for a few seconds, not really sure what to do with it. In front of him stood Ned and MJ, waiting for an answer. Peter glanced to his side, where he was greeted with an empty seat. (Y/N) had already left, but he still wasn’t feeling like he wanted to leave the library.

“No, you guys go without me. I still have some homework to do.” his two friends nodded and walked away, waving and saying their byes before walking through the heavy doors of the library. Peter sighed. He didn’t have any homework to do, but he couldn’t leave now. That would just raise eyebrows.

He was browsing through some random books around the table when the hair on the back of his neck raised. There was somebody behind him. Or at least near him. Before he got to turn around, he could also hear them… no, her. “Oh, everyone left, I see.” It was (Y/N). Peter cursed under his breath. Of course, it was her. Still not daring to look at her, he mumbled: “Yeah. I thought you had left too.”

“No, I was just bringing some books back.” She sat down next to him. Peter didn’t understand why she had to sit back in her old spot if all the other seats were now free too. But then, as she was going through her notes again, she said it. “So, you’ve read my notebook, huh?” It made sense now.

He was caught and had no way to run. It was pointless to deny it. He closed the book that was laying in front of him and turned to look at her. She was still reading her notes. Highlighting a few loose words every now and then.

“I did. Look, (Y/N), I’m sorry. You told me not to do it and I was a selfish idiot and did it anyway-”

“It’s okay.” the words surprised Peter. He looked at his friend with wide eyes.

“W-what? You’re not mad?”

“No, not mad. A bit disappointed, but not mad.” The words made her sound like forty-year-old soccer mom talking to her children. “I mean, it sucks that you read it behind my back without asking, but hey, it happened so let’s not get out panties in a twist.” Peter was stunned. He couldn’t believe it that she wasn’t angry at him. Saying sorry once definitely didn’t feel like doing enough… so he said it again. “I’m really sorry.”

“Peter, it’s fine. Honestly, I wanted you to read it, but-” she stopped mid-sentence, her cheeks flushed a pastel pink, “I was just kind of embarrassed, seeing that I write about us.”

“About us?”

“Urgh, I mean, about everyone. School, classes, decathlon, lunch breaks.” Her cheeks turned even redder. Peter started to feel embarrassed he misinterpreted her first words. Of course, she had meant it like that. They were just friends.

“Right, yeah. I knew that.” he tried to play it off cooler than he actually was. He had the feeling that his own face was heating up like hers. As embarrassed as he was, he was still curious: “Do you mind me asking, why do you write about us? I mean, you can come up with so many original stories, why high school?” She thought for a second before answering Peter’s question.

“People are always envious of the heroes they read about in stories, so I thought, why not just become your own hero?” she looked down, her finger tracing the doodles on the cover of her notebook that has collected there over the weeks. “It’s kind of stupid.”

“No, it’s pretty cool.” Tom assured her, “and it’s probably also a good way to practice writing, right?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Her smile came back.

“Besides, I’m flattered that you think my dark mahogany eyes are sparkling.” with a little smirk, he fluttered his eyelashes mockingly at her.

“Oh, shut up,” she nudged him in the ribs, still laughing.

“Hey, it’s your words, not mine.”

The End

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