Chapter Text
Peter’s POV
Peter’s phone tinged, a little notification from Twitter, he looked at the preview and instantly clicked to unlock his phone just to view the tweet. He only had Twitter, for one thing, one person. Y/N Y/L/N, famous actor and singer. He watched all your movies, brought all the albums, Peter was a mega fan.
You had achieved so much, you are only two years older than Peter, and the fact you travel all over the world and get to be in such amazing movies. You are his celebrity crush, he couldn’t deny it and he hardly hid it either. You wrote love songs about guys, even break up songs too, Peter adored you and your bravery to be so open and honest about your sexuality- it’s inspiring to him.
@y/twitter-handle: Just arrived in NYC!!! Singing on my first American chat show tomorrow, can’t wait :) <3 xXx
Peter instantly liked the tweet, smiling at your constant use of smiley faces in your tweets. He thought about sending a little reply, something like the other fans but he just locked his phone; his tweet would get lost in the sea of encouragement anyway. He was more of a fly-on-the-wall fan, he liked and retweeted all your tweets, made sure to watch every interview he could and tried to see every movie and listen to every song. But he could never meet you in person, he could never afford the concert tickets- which sold out anyway- and the thought of ever meeting you, in person, terrified him.
He could fight off bad guys, no problem. Actually meeting you, talking to you and being near you, he’d faint… he knew it.
He sighed as he sat on the bus home, the phone being passed from hand to hand in frustration and thought. A little tweet to you, something encouraging, it’s not like he’d get any attention and every fan sends one to you. Before he could really think about it, as usual, he unlocked his phone and instantly got your tweet up again.
@Peter_Parker: You should definitely try 47th street doughnut place :) you’ll do great tomorrow xx
Peter hit sent, automatically exiting the app and locking his phone. He’ll end up deleting the tweet when he gets home, it was stupid and silly, why did he recommend a doughnut place? That’s so stupid like you’d even listen to that advice.
Forgetting about the tweet and Twitter altogether Peter ended up at home, sitting down and doing his homework on the apartment living room’s floor. Brooklyn 99 on the tv, a plate of May’s meatloaf besides him and untouched. He chuckled at Jake’s little joke before finishing his geometry homework, grabbing all of the pieces of extra paper and setting them neatly in his notebook.
Picking up his phone, the screen automatically lightening up due to notifications, way more than he ever usually got in a week. Peter frowned as he unlocked the phone, clicking on a random Twitter mention that linked to a thread… a thread that was started due to his one tweet, that he had forgotten until now. Right below his tweet was… a tweet… from you.
@y/twitter-handle: Oooh noice <3 Thank you, I’ll be sure to check ‘em out! xXx
Peter froze, uncertain for a moment, despite the blue tick he clicked the name just to be sure. It was you, people were liking his tweet and even tweeting him and you. His mind fuzzed over for a full minute before he caught up with himself, you had noticed him, liked his tweet and even replied to him. He looked around, he had to tell someone, he was filled with such joy and energy that he couldn’t just hold in.
He got up from the floor and began pacing, unsure how he should be feeling and reacting to this. Peter had no one to fanboy at, Ned didn’t really listen to your music and had only seen one or two movies, May was… well, May and she didn’t really like the movies you are in; Horror and Thriller based. So, he did the only rational thing, freak the fuck out on his own. That involved jumping up and down, rolling on the sofa and muffling his loud shrieks and then screenshotting the tweet just so he had it forever!
“Peter?” A voice calls out causing the teenage boy to lift his head, a massive grin on his face and still holding his phone in excitement, “Are you okay?” May asked, an eyebrow raised and placing her bag down.
Peter nodded, exhaling rather loudly, “Yeah, just had a very good day, I guess.” He replies, grinning from ear-to-ear, locking his phone and collecting all his things together, “best day ever, by far.” He mutters passing by her and going to his room.
Peter’s life had now peaked, well to him it had. Sure he’s Spider-Man, he saves people and fights crime, but Peter Parker was just noticed by his celebrity crush. An achievement and thing every fan hopes to do in their life, and he had just done it. First time tweeting you too. He fell back on his bed, sighing loudly and just letting today’s events roll around in his mind for a few short minutes.
**Your POV**
You let out a long sigh as you fell back on the plush double bed, your hotel room was a little too… huge for your likening. So much space for one person who wasn’t going to be staying long, it made you feel a tad lonely and pathetic. Usually, you had people on tour with you, a few friends and, maybe, your mother but this part of the tour you had to be alone. It made you miss home, you tried not to think about that too much.
The jet lag was slowly settling in, it wasn’t late in America but over in the UK, it was five hours ahead, almost midnight there. You debated on forcing yourself to stay awake, to actually not let jet lag take over but you deserved a few hours rest; when you wake up you’d order room service, no biggie.
You woke up to excessive banging, you sat up on your hotel bed and rubbed your tired eyes. Jumping at the next round of heavy banging against your hotel room door, you frowned slightly as you eyed the door. You hadn’t invited anyone over, even if you did, the hotel reception would phone up just to confirm your guest. Luckily you slept over the covers in your travel outfit, a simple black v-neck and some grey sweats. Walking over to the door and looking through the peephole you see four men, four large men, with black ski-masks covering their faces and holding guns.
Standing in frozen horror at the image before you, they had the hotel manager with them. That’s when you heard the door ‘ting’, they keycard being used to open it. The door is pushed open revealing the men and the manager, his hands are duct-taped behind his back, and you’re frozen on the spot before them. You had a slot of time to grab your phone and dial the police, yet in your fear stricken mind, you couldn’t. That moment had passed you now had four guns pointed at you, a man yelling at you but you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying.
“I said get down on the ground,” Another voice, much louder, beside your ear makes you snap back to reality. You slowly lower yourself to the floor, making eye contact with the men before you, “on your stomach, lay flat!” He orders.
Shaking with fear you instantly do has he asked, laying flat on your stomach, you see their heavy boots start to move around the room. Going through your luggage, opening up drawers and taking your possessions. You hadn’t come with loads, but what you had was on the expensive side. You earned what you bought; you never showed it off but you were proud of your achievements and always splashed the cash when you felt necessary.
You glanced at the hotel manager, also on the floor. You could hear the four men talking amongst themselves, figuring out their exit and what to do with you and the manager. This can’t be how you die, held hostage in a hotel room in America.
Then you see them walk over, lifting the hotel manager up so he can sit on his knees, they do the same with you. Grabbing under your arms and forcing you onto your knees in front of them. You had been in action movies, you knew what was about to happen. A terrified sob left the hotel manager, a gun is aimed right at his head, the safety clicking off…
Peter’s P.O.V
Peter began pulling on the suit in his bedroom, getting ready for his evening patrolling. He could hear May listening to the tv, the news on as background noise as she cooked for herself. Then he heard it, his hearing picking up the light muttering of the news reporter. A hostage situation, that’s all he needed to hear before he was opening his window, pulling on his mask and swinging his way out of his room.
He got there within ten minutes, the hotel was surrounded by police cars and ambulances.
“Room 309, it has one resident,” the police officer spoke clearly into his walkie-talkie, “hotel manager is up there too, held at gunpoint, suspected four males.” Watching as the police officer points up, for a fellow officer, “We can get SWAT to climb the fire escape, north-facing window, third balcony along-”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Peter flings himself onto the side of the building and begins climbing up. Not hearing who the resident is because if he did, he’d faint and fall off of the building’s wall. Within a few minutes, he reaches the balcony, silently climbing onto it and sighing at the doors open.
Peter peeks through, seeing two people getting forced onto their knees, one being the hotel manager. He climbs silently inside, getting onto the ceiling as the gun is being lowered and aimed right at the managers head. Before the man has time to pull the trigger, Peter outstretches his arm and webs the gun, pulling it to himself and across the floor- out of any reach.
This causes the other three to turn and aim their weapons, Peter easily dodges and swings missing their aim. Using his webs to web one of the man’s hands to a wall, kicking the other that got too close. For four grown men they’re rather easy to take down; is all that’s running through Peter’s mind. Within minutes the men are webbed to walls or each other, unable to move or harm anyone.
He turns in time to see the other hostage helping the hotel manager get his hands free, from the name tag his name is, Richard.
“Hey, go down and inform the police they’ve been taken care of,” Peter calls to them.
His breathing stops when the young gentlemen turn as he stands up, his mind stops working and his heart works in overdrive because it’s you… you’re the hostage. This is your hotel room. How did he not hear this vital piece of information before coming? Did they know it was you? Where’s your security? The hotel manager quickly scurries away, muttering thanks to Spider-Man before leaving to get the police and ambulance.
“You’re Y/N Y/L/N!” Peter states, stepping forward and over one of the men he had just taken down, “don’t you have security or something? Seems kind of irresponsible to not have them,” he comments before he can stop himself.
You don’t act offended though, you actually chuckle but the look of utter terror makes Peter take another step, a comforting one… one that lets you know you’re safe. “Yeah, hindsight probably should’ve hired some. Figured only here for a few days wouldn’t need any,” you shrugged eyes darting to the webbed men in your hotel room, blinking and quickly looking away. “Lucky you should up… would be dead-”
Peter cuts you off, mainly because he doesn’t want to hear you finish that, “Don’t dwell on what could’ve happened and you’re welcome, I should go before the police storm up here,” he steps back already hearing the police from down the hallway.
Peter stumbles as he walks backwards, awkwardly chuckling to himself as he goes, “Not even going to tell me your name?” You asked, a raised eyebrow and light chuckle, the sound makes Peter’s head spin because it’s you. You’re here in front of him, yet he can’t tell you that, he can’t show himself because… he can’t use Spider-Man to gain.
“Spider-Man, people call me Spider-Man,” you shake your head, he knows that’s not the name you wanted, “Welcome to New York-umm- have a good rest of your trip. Try 47th street doughnuts, they’re really good,” he points and then exits out of the balcony, his heart racing and breathing heavy.
Peter swings away a few blocks, mind muddled and adrenaline working way more intensely than normal, “did that really just happen?” He asked himself quietly.
“Yes, Peter, it did.” Karen answers.
Your P.o.v
After filing a police report, moving hotels, plus getting all your stuff back you could finally think. You had cancelled the interview, allowing yourself to just adjust to the situation. You were held at gunpoint, almost witnessed a man die, but you didn’t because of the masked hero. Spider-man. He had saved you.
Yet, you couldn’t get what he said to you out of your head. Try 47th street doughnuts, you swear someone else had recommended that to you, the same day too. Maybe it’s purely coincidental but same day, same doughnut place? You might be reading too much into it but it must mean something. Maybe those doughnuts are the best, maybe a lot of people like them. What if the same people that recommend it are the same person, what if whoever had recommended the doughnuts is also your masked hero.
After a couple of days, you scheduled another interview, you had to announce your new movie somehow. Despite trying to remember how you were recommended the doughnut place, and by who, you just couldn’t and admitted defeat till you had time to scroll through your twitter mentions.
“Now, Y/N, you were involved in a very serious hostage situation. That must’ve been so scary for you, the first day back in New York, too.” The interviewer smiled, her pearly whites on display but her voice sincere.
You nodded slowly, “Yeah, looking back I wish I had gotten security. You don’t really think about the extremes though, it sounds silly but I’ve never felt unsafe ever, in my whole life, I’ve always been privileged enough to never be put in a situation where I ever felt the need to have security with me all the time, apart from meetups, tours - planned stuff, where the venue gives you security. It’s definitely something that has changed my perspective on how I travel now,” she nods along.
“You said the masked vigilante Spider-Man saved you that night,” she clarifies and you nod once, “what was he like?”
You chuckled slightly, “Umm- a hero, an actual superhero, like Iron Man level,” that got chuckles from the audience. “I mean it, he was amazing, you know. I only play people that have that type of life, that type of bullsy attitude but to see it, to be on the side of vulnerable and someone saves your life… yeah, I owe him, a lot.”
She laughs lightly, “sounds like you have a bit of crush on this masked hero.”
You shrugged, nodding, “Honestly, yeah. I do,” you chuckled along with her, “the guy literally took down four grown-men twice his height and weight, if that ain’t hot I don’t know what it.”
Peter’s p.o.v
“Peter! Peter!” Peter turned to see Ned running through the corridors to him, he frowned as his best friend pulled him quickly to his locker, pulling out his phone, “have you seen it?”
Peter frowned, “Seen what?”
Ned quickly pulls up the youtube app on his phone, typing in your name and finding the exact clip he wanted. Peter leaned closer, pulling an earphone up to his ear, listening to your latest interview. He did his patrol last night, so he missed it but he knew he’d catch up when he got home from school.
He listened to the whole 3-minute clip of you talking about Spider-Man, his eyes wide and heart beating fast, you have a crush on Spider-Man? You actually have a crush on him! He looked at Ned who was grinning, only yesterday finding out about Peter’s massive fanboy crush on you, now you have a crush on him back.
“Dude, he has a crush on you!” Ned whispers excitedly.
The bell goes off before Peter can respond to his best friend, people walked past and going to their classes, Ned gave him one last excited grin before scurrying off to his own class. Peter was left in the empty corridor, beside his locker still. A blush was on his cheeks, his heart wasn’t slowing, and he felt a tad hot under his sweater.
You, his celebrity crush, actually have a crush on him too. He felt giddy, today is his best day ever. He turned a spring in his step as he walked to class, biggest smile upon his face that wasn’t going to go away anytime soon.