hello?

The kisses were fervent and much of a rush, your nails raking through the strands of Tom’s head. His mouth opened, tongue entering your mouth as he pushed your back against the wooden surface of the door leading into the LA home you owned. Tom had come down for a few weeks for work-related tasks, but that wasn’t stopping him from getting his fair share of you. 

You see, what Hollywood didn’t know – was that you and Tom were much more than just ‘friends’. While you weren’t in an exclusive relationship that was exploited with bouts of PDA and cute little dinner dates on the pier, you two were hot and heavy lovers who could hardly keep their hands to themselves. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for the two of you to find the other in your territory, ready to snatch one another’s clothes off. Tom had been a close friend of yours for years, and one thing led to another, and well…

You were friends with enticing benefits. 

Tom ripped his shirt away, making you moan. “Ugh, you’re so hot,” You groaned, reaching out to caress his abs. Tom mustered a laugh, his lips connecting to your neck as he drew moans out of your sweet mouth that would soon be stuffed full of his cock if he had his way. 

“Speak for yourself, Love,” He laughed, his accent thick and sexy in your ear as you cupped his cheeks, kissing him harder. The two of you fell onto your couch, his body pinning yours underneath as his hands roamed across your warm flesh. He was practically ripping away the shirt you wore, desperate to touch you. “Your tits are the best,” He groaned when his eyes were greeted with them. “So pretty and perky,” His head dipped low to capture your nipple in his mouth.

A cry broke free from your throat as he pushed the sensitive bud into the roof of his mouth, his warm lips wrapped around your breast to suck as you curled your fingers through his hair, your hands inching to reach the clasp to his jeans. “Come on, Tom, I need you,” You growled under your breath as he laughed, moving his mouth back up to kiss you deeper. 

In a tangled mess of limbs, you both were panting for every breath as you worked to take off each other’s clothes, the desperation evident in your ghostly touches over your skin. Your phone was tossed out of your pocket and laying on the table. Hips straddling Tom’s as you worked to grind your center against him, you were releasing wanton moans that had his length tightening harder behind the fabric of his black boxers. 

“Hurry up and get outta these,” Tom fumbled with the lace covering your hips. “Wanna feel how soaking wet and tight you are around me,” He growled, bringing you to sweetly moan as you rocked further into him. Soon, you were bouncing wildly on top of him, every care in the world thrown out the window as you focused on the intense pleasure Tom provided you. His hands curving around your back, he helped push you back and forth as you swiveled your pretty hips in circles, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips as he worked to try not to burst within you at that very moment. 

“Your tits–” He panted. “So perfect,” He moaned, leaning forward to bury his head in between and resume his mouth skills on your sensitive nipples. Your fingers were raking and curling around the strands of his hair as you cried out in ecstasy, feeling the pulsations growing in between your thighs, your high on the verge of peaking. The two of you were soon coming together in unison, bodies pressed together in a tight embrace, the sweat collecting as beads on your foreheads. 

“W-Whoa,” You stammered, laughing quietly as the waves of your orgasm washed over you, your body slouching against Tom. He smiled wickedly and hurried to attack your face with kisses – sloppy ones but with a sweet intent. As you buried your face into the crook of his neck, your phone started to ring. Groaning, you picked it up, only to see your mother’s name flash across the screen.

“Shhh!” You erupted, pressing your index finger to Tom’s lips. His eyes widened and eyebrows knitted in confusion as you swiped to answer it. 

“Mom!” You erupted, watching as Tom’s eyes grew to the size of plates. His entire body stiffened underneath you as you hissed. “Oh, you’re coming in the next five minutes? Y-yeah, sorry! I just… I got tied up,” You blinked. “Yeah, I’m home,” You answered. Tom was glancing between you and his discarded clothes. Pushing yourself off your lover, he bit back the groan as you pressed into his abdomen. You were scurrying around for your clothes, your anxiety through the roof. 

“See you soon! Love you!” You squeaked. Hanging up, you tossed your phone to the side and started to pick up.

“GET DRESSED!” You screamed at Tom who was staring back at you. He hurried to his feet and started to grab at his clothes, but you threw them directly into his face. He was stumbling. 

“What do I need to do?! LEAVE?!” He asked. Your mother had no idea you were doing this type of business. Biting your lip nervous, you needed to brush your hair and appear presentable and not as if you had just had your guts rearranged by Holland. 

“N-no, you idiot!” You hissed. “if my mom comes in, tell her you're my boyfriend!” You hurried out of the living room and toward your bedroom.

“WHAT?!” Tom screamed back. He turned his head back over to the door that could open within the next ten seconds. Mothers were quick. He was looking around frantically, picking up any trash he saw and hurrying it to the kitchen. He was not expecting to have a run-in with your mother of all people today when he came to do business with you. He thought today was going to be completely chill, with you two nestled in the sheets as you screamed each other’s names. Not screaming because your mother was arriving and he had to play the decoy boyfriend. 

You were hurrying around the bedroom, gathering up the items your mother was stopping by to grab when you heard the sound of her voice ring out as she entered your home. You two had an open-door policy like that. 

“I’m here, sweetie – oh,” She stopped in her tracks as she saw Tom coming out of the kitchen with a glass of water in his hand. He was an actor for a reason. 

“Hi, there! You must be Y/N’s mom… She’s back there,” He pointed toward the hallway where he knew your bedroom was. Your mother furrowed her brows. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met?” She asked, stepping forward and extending her hand.

Tom walked over and grabbed your mother’s hand and kissed her hand. “Tom Holland,” He answered. “I’m Y/N’s boyfriend… My, now I see where she gets her beauty from,” He beamed, sending her a wink. Your mother blushed as she stood there, soaking in the sight of your supposed boyfriend. 

“Boyfriend?” Your mother repeated. “Y/N hasn’t mentioned anything about seeing someone… But maybe I’d keep you under wraps too,” She teased. 

Tom flushed a rosy shade of pink. 

“We’ve been together less than a month. I believe Y/N just wanted to make sure everything was smooth sailing before telling people about us,” He smiled.

Just then, you appeared.

“Hi, mom!” You smiled, rushing over with the container of items she needed. She pulled you into a hug and pressed a whisper to your ear.

“You didn’t tell me you scored the big leagues, sweetheart… I love him already,” She giggled quietly. Your eyes popped open, unsure of what Tom had told her. 

You pulled back as she took the container off your hands. “Well, I’ll let you two kids have your fun… Tom, it was a joy to meet you, sweetheart,” She beamed at the British lad. He offered her a kind smile. 

“You too,” He nodded. 

Your mother flashed you a smile and flirty wink. “I’ll plan an extra seat at our family get-together next month,” She smiled happily and turned to leave. You walked her to the door, thankful when she got into her car and left. Turning back around, you faced Tom who crossed his arms over his chest. 

“She seems lovely,” He sighed. 

You glared at him.

“What on earth did you tell her?” You asked him.

Tom slowly walked over, the look in his eye unreadable. Your heart quickened as the man reached out and grabbed you by your hips. Locking your front door as he pressed your back to the door, he lowered his head until his lips were on your neck.

Kissing a trail down the length of your skin, he hovered over your collarbone where he nipped your flesh. A soft moan unfolded from your lips as your eyes rolled, your hands reaching out to brace on his chest. 

“We may need to renegotiate those terms… I think I like you, baby,” He chuckled in a husky manner, a way that sent chills racing down your spine.

tagging:

@la-undercover-latina 

You rolled your eyes as you met his, “What can I do for you, Parker?”

His eyes cascaded over you – usually, he would expect for you to be wearing something hideous, like most bridesmaid dresses were. But MJ was different, she had picked out simply the most beautiful thing Peter had ever seen on you, and he was taken aback for a moment. A stain dress in the colour of coral red sat on your skin, the V-line cutting way too deep that it almost reach your stomach, your shoes were white, and your hair wasn’t done yet, but he could tell everything just worked on you. You were the maid of honour and had he have not seen MJ yet; he probably would’ve thought you were the most beautiful person at the wedding.

But Peter didn’t know what he was thinking, so he shook himself out of his daze, meeting your eyes after almost a second, “Harry just wanted to me to see if MJ was alright,”

“He could’ve texted me.”

“Right, but he wanted me to see for myself,”

It bothered you a little that Harry didn’t trust you to tell Peter the truth – but he was slightly right, Peter would’ve texted you and you would’ve told him to fuck off. Harry had his reasons, you suppose.

You opened the door wider, reluctantly letting Peter inside, “Whatever,”

MJ smiles as Peter walks into the room, “Hey, Pete! What’s up?” Her face immediately turns to worry, “Is something wrong with Harry? Did he run away? Ohmygod, he probably ran away.”

Peter’s eyes widen, “Nonononono! Everything is fine, Harry just wanted me to see if you were okay.”

MJ lets go of her breath, “Oh! Well, I’m fine. Is he okay?”

“Great,” Peter confirms, “Well, that’s all, I’ll see you guys at the ceremony then.”

You watch Peter leave as Betty perks up, “At least Harry didn’t leave you.”

Gwen and Felicia both let out a gasp, “Betty!!”

“What?” She lifts her hands up in surrender, you and MJ locking eyes and laughing at your friends.

*

Thankfully, the ceremony goes smoothly and you’re currently watching MJ and Harry dance in the middle of the dance floor. You honestly couldn’t be prouder of your best friend. The dance was soon over and now it was time for you and Peter to give your speeches. You locked eyes with him as you stood where the microphone was, the gaze speaking volumes.

My speech is much better than yours.

You wish it was.

You cleared your throat as you felt all eyes on you – a pro at public speaking you had quickly become over your academic years, speech memorised, you knew you would ace this.

“When I had first met the bride and the groom, I thought oh god, what have I gotten myself into. I thought that twice in the same year,” You chuckle, “When I met MJ, I always knew she was destined for great things. For love. She deserved it and I knew that. But I’m not quite sure she did.”

You paused for a moment, meeting her soft smile. She was happy today. Her hair in a braid and veil over her head, the white dress she’d spoken down on oh so long ago graced her skin.

You laughed in familiar memory, “When MJ and I first talked about getting married – Which we both thought would happen to me first.” The guests laugh with you, “MJ had told me she wanted a black dress. I asked her why and she told me that it would match her soul. But today she’s wearing white. Today I see that her soul has been made brighter, made lighter. Her eyes sparkle with love every time she sees Harry. It was four years ago that MJ let herself fall in love. Regardless of Harry’s obvious pining over the past… eight years?” You question yourself, which gains another laugh, “But you got the girl, Harry, and you got the love you deserve, MJ, the love you both deserve. Congratulations.”

You wrap up your speech, feeling pride bubble up in your stomach, Peter’s eyes meeting yours and you could sense the feeling that he knew he was fucked. But you were wrong, the ‘fucked look’ Peter had on his face quickly turned into a mist of mischievous. You were fucked.

“I have never loved anyone.” Peter speaks, “Well, I have but not truely, I’ve had crushes, girlfriends. But I started to lose hope. I started to feel myself get lost. When I met Harry, we instantly clicked, and, no, this is not me professing my love for him.”

A laugh from the audience – even a slight snicker from you.

“I introduced him to our friends. I introduced him to MJ, and when Michelle walked away from us after making some sarcastic comment about death and destruction in our society, Harry turned to me and said, ‘I’m going to marry that girl,’… Maybe that’s when my hope in love restored. I watched Harry pine over someone for at least four years of his life. Continuing on, never having eyes for anyone else but MJ. He never pressured himself on her. He never asked her out – and, although, he claims he made the first move… I’m not one hundred percent sure that’s actually true.”

Peter sighs, turning to face both Harry and MJ. Tears in their eyes… something that you hadn’t done… It didn’t matter about winning and losing anymore, though, you were just happy they were happy and besides, Peter would not let you forget that he made them cry and you didn’t.

“Thank you… Thank you for restoring hope in love, if not just for me… for everyone here.” Peter lifts his flute of champagne, “Congratulations.”

Everyone claps for Peter, and you can almost feel tears welling in your eyes too. The speech had moved you, to say the least… God, you hated to admit that.

Peter’s eyes glanced over you and all he could do was smirk.

You rolled your eyes, turning your attention to the meal on your plate.

*

The next morning you were getting text after text, your phone essentially waking you up if not for your alarm going off two minutes after you could barely open your eyes. You opened your eyes to see twenty-five missed calls from MJ and fifty missed calls and over one hundred texts from Harry. You sat up, your hair a mess and wearing an oversized t-shirt you got from Italy on that school trip. Peter had actually bought it for you. You couldn’t remember why, but it stuck with you.

Immediately, you got out of bed and hurried up to Harry and MJ’s room in the elevator. You furiously knocked on the door wondering what had happened… if they were dead. Your knuckles were getting red and swollen from how hard you were pounding on the door. You went to hit the door again but met with Peter’s face.

“God, why the fuck are you here?” You question Peter as you barge into the room, finding Harry pacing back and forth in the middle of their penthouse, “Where’s MJ?” You questioned her, now husband.

“Throwing up in the toilet.” Harry spoke, “She’s got fucking food poising, the chef fucked up her steak last night and now she’s going to be here for about five days.”

“But what about your honeymoon?” Peter questions, “Didn’t MJ work her ass off to get that holiday for the two of you?”

MJ walks into the room, trash can in hand.

“Babe, what are you doing away from the bathroom?” Harry asks running over to her side again.

“I need to talk about the honeymoon… okay, I just, take it guys. You both need time off. The Bugle has you doing numbers, y/n. They have been for three years, let yourself relax, you have like ten thousand holiday days.”

“No, I can’t-” You’re interrupted.

“Yes. You can.” She groans, clutching her stomach, “…and Peter, you go too. You’re fucking Spider-Man, if that isn’t a cry for a time away, I don’t know what is.”

“But New York-” He’s interrupted.

“New York will last five days.”

You let out a dry laugh, “Regardless of whatever this is, MJ, I am not, going on a holiday to a resort in the mountains alone with Penis Parker.”

The nickname had to sting – You knew it did by the way Peter looked at you afterwards.

“God, you are such a bitch!” He groans, “All you do is fucking take the piss out of me, if you don’t want to go, then I’ll go on my fucking own.”

“Way to be a good role model for the children of New York.”

“At least I am a role model. You work for someone, and you are someone that only has shit falling out of her mouth.”

The irony of MJ’s vomiting interrupting Peter’s last comment made you chuckle slightly, but also rest a hand on your best friends shoulder as Harry looks at the two of you with an apology in his eyes. Even though there’s nothing to apologise for.

MJ groans, “Please, just do this. Y/n, you worked your ass off to ensure I got this, and if you don’t go that means all those months were put into nothing. I can’t have that happen. Harry and I can always pay to go back, but I know if I don’t ask you to do this now, you will never let yourself go on a holiday. You will never treat yourself.”

You feel guilty and you know she’s right. You’d probably never let yourself go. You never did. Even when you guys would go out partying, Jameson would always call you and order you around to do things for him and you had to comply otherwise you would get fired from the only job that actually paid you. You weren’t as lucky to get a job at Oscorp like Peter had, even if Norman knew you both, he took Peter based on the results of his application. You couldn’t fault Norman for being fair… your project just wasn’t as good as Peter’s, and you had to face that. So, no, you would never let yourself relax. Not as long as you worked for Jameson. A job that could disappear from under your feet in seconds.

She turns back to Peter, “How many times have you come to my window all beat up, begging for Harry and I to patch you up? How many times have you wished for a normal life, Peter? Remember the trip to Europe? You were constantly telling Ned how you just wanted to live. Without the responsibility of being Spider-Man? Well, guess what Peter, that’s never going to happen, and you know that, but, dude,” She coughs, “Take the five days to at least try to live that life. You might both hate each other, but you’re missing the point where it’s a resort, up in a mountain with skiing and skiing and hot cocoa all just five minutes away from you. You don’t have to spend any time together.”

Harry holds her hair up as she throws up her food once more, patting his wife’s back he looks at both of you, “C’mon guys, it’ll be good for you both – we all know that. There’s no point in lying to yourselves.”

“Okay, sure, but doesn’t Peter have a girlfriend he can take? What happened to that Mary Jane girl?” You query as Peter’s eyes meet yours, his jaw clenched.

“She broke up with me.”

“That is rough,” Your sarcastic tone wasn’t hidden. You didn’t feel sorry for the guy.

He lets out a dry chuckle, “What about you and Eddie Brock?”

Your gaze snaps, “Fuck you, Peter.” He knew that Eddie had cheated on you, everyone knew that Eddie cheated on you. That was before he skipped town to San Francisco, you hadn’t seen him since.

He chuckles, “You wish.”

You make a gagging noise, and it makes MJ throw up, you cover your mouth, “I’m so sorry,”

When she’s done, she just lets out a small laugh, before groaning again, “You two are going, end of discussion. You both need it… please.” She looks up at you with pleading eyes, “This is the least you could do.”

You and Peter exchange a glance, “…Fine.” You speak in chorus.

“When’s the flight leave?” Peter questions.

Harry looks at his phone and then the two of you, “Tomorrow at ten,”

“Great…” You mutter, turning and leaving the room.

*

Somehow you and Peter had come to an agreement that he’d pick you up from your apartment the next day and drive you both to the airport. You weren’t complaining though because it would mean you wouldn’t have to keep your car at the airport for extra cost. You were okay with that. What you weren’t okay with was having to share a room with Peter, a car, sit next to him on the plane. Spend a whole five days with him but you were trying to look on the bright side… you’d already spent eight years knowing him, what’s five more days?

You heard a knock on your door, slipping on your backpack and dragging your suitcase to the door, opening it, to find Peter standing there. It was cold in New York, of course it was, it was winter… You had no doubt it would be colder up in the mountains. You and Peter were both wearing coats, but he looked pristine; clean and his hair was styled to fit that, but you knew that his natural curls would come out later, they always had.

You and Peter were trying to make the best of a bad situation. What had occurred to you both, was that there really wasn’t a reason for competition on this trip. So ultimately, there wouldn’t really be any arguments… right? So, you were trying to be nice to Peter. But the two of you couldn’t even do that.

“Ready to go?” Peter asks.

“Stating the obvious?” You quirk an eyebrow, etching your head to your suitcase, “Let’s just leave. You drive like a grandma.”

“I do not drive like a grandma.” Peter says offended as he follows you into the elevator, pressing the button to the ground floor.

“Yes,” You let out a dry laugh, “You do… you’re slow and always so cautious.”

“That says more about you than it does about me.” Peter’s eyes meet yours with a smirk playing on his lips.

You shake your head as the elevator doors open. Dragging your bags to Peter’s car which is parked on the side of the road. He pops the trunk, and you slide your suitcase next to his and when you see it, you can’t help but laugh.

“You do not have a suitcase with spider-webs on it.”

“What about it?” Peter asks getting into his seat, starting the heat so that the car would be warm for the both of you – he didn’t hate you that much, and technically speaking, he would also be affected.

“You bought your own merch!” You say between laughs, snorting.

“Technically, it’s not. It’s just spider-webs.”

“Whatever, Insect.”

Peter rolls his eyes at the nickname, watching you as you settle into your seat, peeling off your jacket to reveal your navy Henley, which you had paired with a pair of jeans. He thought you looked pretty. Just like he had at the wedding. But he shook all thoughts out of his head. You were you and he wasn’t supposed like you… not anymore.

Peter peeled off his own coat. You watched as the familiar blue shirt appeared, “You still have that?” You questioned the spider.

He smiles hesitant, “Yeah, it was still good, still fits, so I didn’t wanna get rid of it, y’know?”

“…Oh. Yeah. I get that.” You say and face the window of the car as Peter starts to drive.

Peter watched you take pictures with MJ and Ned, he was going to approach but it wasn’t long before Ned walked away with Betty and Brad gave you a sweet smile, offering to take a picture of the two of you. Pigeons starting to fly on MJ’s arms. Harry laughed at his crush, but Peter just watched from afar.

You could only smile at Brad. You were possibly one of the nicest people Peter had known, but, you and Peter had this rival thing, and you weren’t so nice to him, so he had to bite back. He wanted to tell you that, he wanted to tell you that he had a crush on you. But that was impossible. He couldn’t do that. You’d think he was crazy.

The only people that knew about Peter’s crush on you was Aunt May Peter had opened up about his crush on you to her. She thought it was sweet but hated how you disliked her sweet boy.

Peter watched as Eddie walked up to you, MJ and Harry going over to a stand to get some gelato, Peter thought it was great he was trying to get closer to MJ. Flash and Ned arguing over something Peter couldn’t hear, Gwen and Betty snickering at the way Mr. Harrington dropped his camera into the ocean and yet his focus was all on you and Eddie. Eddie talking you up.

“What do you think of this photo? Should I post it?” You questioned the boy in the leather jacket.

He smiled, giving you a charming glance, “I think you look beautiful.”

You bite your lip, “Thanks, Eddie.”

Peter could feel something brewing in his stomach, gripping the present he had bought you in his hand – knowing it was no use to try and get closer to you. Try to tell you what he felt. You clearly liked Eddie and Eddie liked you. Peter would come nowhere close in comparison. Peter wasn’t the guy you liked – Peter was the guy you hated… and he knew that would never change.

Ned and Harry came up beside Peter, “What’cha doin’?” Ned questions.

Peter slides the gift box back into his pocket, “Nothing…” A glance back to you and then back at his friends, “… Just deciding if I want gelato or if I should take the MJ route and have a cup of espresso.”

You watched Peter and his friends walk up to the gelato stand. You were in a good mood, so you figured you’d join them. Talk to them. You were only trying to be nice. When you finally caught up, you noticed the flannel Peter was wearing looked very fit on him, snug. He filled it out well. At this point you had no idea he was Spider-Man. Maybe if you had, the muscles would make more sense… but that was later on in the trip, and you were only at the beginning.

“Shirt looks good, Parker.” You smiled, turning to the vendor, “Mango, please?”

Peter had decided then and there that he was never getting rid of that shirt… He also decided that Mango was now his favourite flavour of gelato.

The memory had stuck with you and Peter. You weren’t sure if he remembered it, but you definitely did. It was one of the nicer exchanges you and Peter have had over the many years you’d known each other. You don’t know why, but it was something you thought about often. Like, every time you saw him your mind would immediately think about that memory. It was strange… and the blue shirt, god, it brought it all back.

You didn’t know how you felt about Peter during the trip to Europe. You were talking to Eddie. You had feelings for Eddie. You had ended up with Eddie for the rest of high school, and two years into college before finding out he was cheating on you almost half the time you were together. It broke you… honestly, it did. You always wondered what could’ve been if you set your hatred aside and changed things on that trip, confessed to yourself that you had a slight crush on Peter.

The whole reason you had ended up with Peter on that bridge in Prague was because he wanted to talk and instead of telling you about his crush, or his need to stop the feud… he confessed he was Spider-Man, you asked him why he would tell you something like that. He told you everyone in your friend group knew from Gwen to Ned. You were slightly offended that everyone knew before you – You were the girl Peter disliked the most in the whole group. Part of you was hurt by that. Part of you understood.

You still thought about that night on the bridge, what would’ve happened if you had just listened to your gut and kissed Peter. But you didn’t feel that way about him anymore. You didn’t think so, anyway. Regardless, he definitely did not feel the same.

*

The car ride to the airport wasn’t as long as you had expected it to be. Peter played the radio the whole time and you could hear him laughing quietly at some of the segments, specifically, the one where people would call in and do the quizzes to win a cash prize. You wanted to suggest Peter call, since he was muttering all the right answers to the questions, but you could assume he’d already tried that before… and even if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t listen to you anyway.

“We’re here.” Peter spoke as you pulled into the parking spot Peter would be paying for over the next five days.

“Stating the obvious once again.”

“Get out of the car, y/n.” He speaks deadpanned.

“Gladly.” You give a sweet smile, before dropping it and opening the door.

The two of you were only at the domestic airport, so there wasn’t really much to do. You had gone through baggage check, ID check, all of that and now the two of you were munching on McDonalds that you had offered to pay for. You played with the ring on the middle finger of your left hand. Peter was on his phone. He had finished his meal rather quickly. He looked up at you, he could sense you were staring at him. You didn’t know you were.

“What?” He questions you, putting his phone down flat on the table.

You snicker, taking a bite of your McChicken, “You just ate that really fast, like, super fast… have you ever considered entering a hotdog eating contest or something?” You sounded so stupid. But you didn't notice that until after you had spoken.

“One: no. Two: they’re a waste of food. There are people starving on the streets and then there are people who eat them just for other people’s entertainment.” Peter stole a fry from your box.

You pursed your bottom lip, “Huh,” You shrug, Peter goes for another fry, but you slap his hand away, “If you’re really that hungry, go grab yourself another meal.”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Fine, I’ll be back in a sec.”

“You won’t be missed.” You wave.

The next few moments were kind of a blur to you. It felt like you blacked out if you were being honest, because the moment you met eyes with Eddie from across the airport and the red headed girl standing next to him, he smiled. He had the audacity to smile at you. He wasn’t with the girl he had cheated on you with… Good to know that was over, but he was with a familiar face. Eddie and his girlfriend also had the audacity to walk over to you. Noticing what he was doing, you decided you were going to be the bigger person, smile, and be nice. Even though you had every right not to be, it was four years ago.

Once you had got a good look at the girl with him… your jaw almost dropped. He was now with Mary Jane Watson. You could not contain your shock, wide eyes as they approached you with a sight you never thought you would see.

“Ohmygod!” You smiled, “Hi, Eddie. Hi, Mary Jane.”

“Oh, it’s just MJ,” She corrects. You’d like to roll your eyes, for your MJ. But you know she would rather you didn’t.

“…Right.” You smile so hard your jaw hurts, “So what brings the two of you here?”

“Well, we’re headed to Vermont… Beautiful lodge there. We’re excited to go skiing and such.”

Your jaw almost dropped again, Vermont as in the same Vermont you were going to, “Which lodge?” You questioned, praying, it wasn’t the same one that you were going to.

“Stowe.” He smiles, Mary Jane’s hand gripping to his.

The awkwardly loud laugh that didn’t sound like a laugh at all just slipped out, and so did the next words that came out of your mouth, “Well, my fiancé and I are headed there too funnily enough.”

“Is he around?” Eddie asks his eyes scanning the area.

All in a short moment Peter comes back and you know exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into, “Baby! You’re back!” You cheer.

Peter looks shocked for a moment, but when his eyes land on both Mary Jane and Eddie who both cannot contain their shock, whilst your back is turned to them, you quickly slip the cheap ring that you were toying with earlier onto your ring finger. It didn’t look like an engagement ring... Not at all. But if they asked, you’d just say the two of you were waiting to pick together. Peter met your eyes, and you give him a panicked look, and he immediately understood what was happening.

Peter’s arm slips around your waist, “Hi,” he says, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. You want to jump away from him, as if his touch was fire, but you had to suck it up.

“Hi.” You try to smile genuine, and you kinda do, feeling Peter’s warm eyes on you with a smile on his face was new, “I was just telling Eddie and Mary Jane here about how we’re going up to the lodge to celebrate our engagement! Turns our they’re going to the same place as us.”

You want to cry.

“Wow.” Peter says in shock, “It’s good to see you both,”

The look on both their faces does not disappoint. The last time they saw you and Peter, you were constantly at each other’s throats and now it appeared as though you were not. When the dynamic between you hadn’t changed at all.

What you also didn’t know was how long-ago Mary Jane and Peter had broken up. You could assume about a year and a half ago, maybe a year, but you weren’t so sure. All you knew is that you had to make this even more convincing.

“Well, we should catch up while we’re at the lodge…” Eddie speaks whilst him and Mary Jane exchange a look, clearly interested in the story of how you and Peter ‘ended up’ together.

“Sure will!” Peter speaks, poison in his voice.

The couple walks away and once out of earshot Peter shoots you a look, “What the fuck was that y/n.”

You bury your face in your hands, “I have no clue, Peter! I panicked! It’s not every day you see your ex and your ex together going to the same place as you.”

Peter sighs, “Yeah, I know… but now we have to pretend we’re dating each other.”

*

The plane was also unpleasant but who was surprised? It was an hour and a half squished next to Peter. You sighed as you got comfortable in your seat, you had the isle and Peter had the window, some random guy had the window – you felt bad for him because if he needed to go to the bathroom, he couldn’t just stick to the roof like Peter… but then again, it was an hour and a half… so, not that long.

There was only one way this trip could get worse, you cursed every god there was, you cursed every relative that came before you. You were petrified and when Peter saw who was in the aisle seat next to you, Peter grabbed your hand.

Mary Jane laughs, “Funny seeing you guys!” She takes her seat next to Eddie.

Eddie waves awkwardly, clearly not anymore impressed by this by you.

You turn back to Peter, your hand still gripping his. His veins were popping, due to the shortness of the flight there was nothing for you and Peter to do to avoid Eddie and Mary Jane in full. There was no TV so you couldn’t indulge in a movie and by the time the flight had begun to take off, you realised you had left your book in your bag above, unbothered to grab it.

You smiled at Peter, “So…”

“So…”

You and Peter had never actively sought out a conversation, every spit usually came naturally. The two of you probably would’ve already been throwing insults at each other if it wasn’t for Eddie and Mary Jane sitting in the seats next to you.

“The shirt is nice.” You commented. Slapping yourself for mentioning it again.

He chuckles noticing your regret, “We haven’t really talked in a while, have we?” Peter questions.

You take a step and move back in your seat, placing your head on Peter’s shoulder, your hands still connected. If Eddie and Mary Jane didn’t believe this, you were shocked, because for a second you did.

Peter freezes under the sudden contact, he was so close to you it kinda scared him. He felt the weight of your head get heavier as then he noticed your eyes then closed. You had fallen asleep. Peter took the next step and slipped his head over yours. Your hands still gripped together as you both napped for an hour and a half.

The plane landed and it jolted you and Peter awake, Eddie and Mary Jane were obnoxiously loud and when it came to picking up baggage. You could visibly roll your eyes – but you could feel theirs on you and you didn’t want to seem rude. First time in forever.

You and Peter find your rental car, getting through baggage claim quickly just fast enough to escape Eddie and Mary Jane. When you and Peter finally got in the car, you both let out a breath of relief. They hadn’t talked to the two of you, but they were impossible to ignore and avoid. It made your skin crawl.

“Fuck…That.” You speak aloud for the two of you.

“Yeah…” Peter lets out a large breath, seemingly, the two of you had been unaware of holding one.

Peter started to drive, “They were so fucking loud.”

You groan, “Tell me about it! How can two people make that much noise and kiss so much.”

He lets out a loud laugh, “They looked like animals, honestly.”

You chuckle, forgetting what the dynamic was before you. The two of you were actually like friends. It was nice and it was familiar, at the beginning, you and Peter were close. But that was before you let academics get the best of you both. It sucked. Peter was quickly made your rival – your enemy, and both of you being competitive helped nothing at all. It was draining for the both of you. On top of decathlon, on top of chemistry, bio and physics, on top of doing the same major at school, both of you with a minor in journalism. It sucked. Constantly putting yourself against him. Sometimes, you wonder if you could’ve just put it aside for a moment, maybe worked together, the two of you would actually be friends rather than frenemies???

The laughing died out for a short moment before Peter got serious, “Sucks that they have each other, though.”

You stare out the window, “Tell me about it…” You trail off, “When did Mary Jane break up with you?” It was a daring question and maybe you shouldn’t have asked, but it felt right to ask in the moment. It felt like something you should talk about.

Peter’s breath is pressed from his cheeks, “Year and a half ago,” You were right, “Nothing really happened though.” He shrugged.

It affected him more than he let off and you knew that. Peter wasn’t being subtle, but he wasn’t, and you weren’t going to press on it anymore. The two of you weren’t that close.

*

“HOLY FUCK THERE’S A HOTTUB!” You almost scream, probably way too excited, through the room, Peter runs out to meet you, his hand running over the edges of the machine.

“I will be taking full advantage of this.” Peter mutters under his breath as you watch him walk back into the room.

It was a pretty standard honeymoon room. There was a heart made of roses on the bed – something you thought only existed in the movies, flutes of champagne sprinkled around the room as if this was a totally normal occurrence and a tray with wine and pamphlets that showed a couple activities the two of you could do in the snowy mountains. There was a couch and a TV, and you were sure one of them would be sleeping on the couch… and that someone wouldn’t be you.

“I’m taking the bed,” Peter smiles as he jumps onto it, a large smile on his face.

Your face contorts in anger, “So chivalry is really dead.”

He laughs, “Don’t be so mad, you’re not a spider, you don’t fight crime every night and I’m sure the same kind of back pain you’re in, doesn’t even come close to mine.”

You hadn’t noticed it, but Peter got close to you, the two of you now staring each other down and Peter’s toying smirk on his face – something you didn’t miss, not at all. You could feel his breath on your face, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away.

You scoff, unable to come up with something to defend yourself, clearly flustered by what Peter had done, “Fine. I’ll take the couch tonight. But we have four nights here, Penis, so you best believe that I’ll be sleeping there tomorrow night.” You grab a pamphlet for a manicure and pedicure that took place on the second floor of the Lodge, “Now, if you don’t mind, I will be going to get pampered,”

“Won’t be missing you.”

“As if I will.”

Your mani-pedi went by way too quickly. Your toenails were now a soft pink colour, and your fingernails were now the same. You had settled for something natural. Deciding that you didn’t really want them to stick out. The Lodge was warm, so you were walking around in the salons robe that they had provided you with and a pair of slippers they had slipped on your feet to make sure that your toenails dry.

You bumped into Eddie and Mary Jane, it felt like the hundredth time today and you wanted to scream. It was five thirty in the afternoon, god forbid, if you could catch a break.

Mary Jane and Eddie smiled, wearing the same robe and slippers, but they had clearly just come from the massage portion of the lodge. You thought about getting one, but you were trying to drag all the free stuff over the five days.

“Funny seeing you here!” Mary Jane smiles, and you match her sweet. The ‘engagement’ ring around your finger, “I’ve been meaning to ask but can I see your ring?”

You could’ve let yourself fall into anger, who the fuck asks something like that? You only make your smile wider kill her with kindness, “Sure! It’s not my actual ring, we only did get engaged a few days ago and Peter wanted me to go with him to pick one… He’s a dream boy.”

Mary Jane’s smile slithered in and out of consciousness, “Are you sure we’re dating the same Peter?”

“Pretty sure,” You let your eyes circle her figure. Showing her the ‘ring’ Peter had proposed with, “Yeah, it’s one of my mom’s rings.”

Eddie’s gaze fall over it – it wasn’t a lie. It was your mom’s ring, just not her engagement ring, “Well that’s nice.” He says short, “We should have dinner tonight, catch up.”

You could tell that they were ‘catching on’ to your lie. It was hard lying to two people that had known you for a long time at some point in your life. Because they both knew details about you and Peter that you didn’t know about Peter or Peter didn’t know about you. You’d cursed yourself for calling this an engagement. But it was the first thing that came to your head, and you were honest, the moment you said it. The moment Peter looked at you, you knew that it was a fuck up on your part.

That’s why you knew the next words that came out of your mouth were your next fuck up, “We’d love to!” You turned on your heel before calling out to the pair, “We’ll eat at the restaurant downstairs.”

“Six-Thirty!” Mary Jane called.

“Can’t wait!”

You practically ran to the room, your slippers clacking onto the floor. When you made it into the elevator, the number of times you had clicked the button to your floor was a lot, but you knew it wouldn’t make the elevator go faster – not at all. But you were.

You slammed the door open to the room, sliding your key as quickly as you could. Fumbling at first, Peter jumped at how you burst into the room.

“Fuck!” Peter’s breath heaved.

You nodded carefully, “You are going to be… mad at me. Again.”

“What did you do, y/n?” Peter questioned. He was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, and for some reason, he was still wearing his web shooters… and it was hot. You pulled your gaze away from the sin but couldn’t stop thinking about it as you met his eyes.

“We have dinner with Mary Jane and Eddie in an hour.”

Peter gets mad, his fists rolling up, his knuckles turning white, “God, y/n, don’t you know how to shut the fuck up?” His voice is raised.

“GOD! I’m sorry! I panicked.”

“That’s all you do, panic! You can’t say no? You always have to be the best? You always have to just go and talk.”

“Shut up Peter.” You sigh, “All you ever do is complain about me! All you ever do is question me! All you ever do is talk shit about me. Well, I’m over it. I am over it. You’re coming to that dinner tonight.”

“And what if I don’t want to Y/n? What if I leave this place? There’s no use in being here with you, I’m not actually your fiancée. I’m not sure anyone would ever want to be.” Peter spoke. Venom falling from his tongue.

Tears welled up in your eyes, “Fuck you.” Your voice was barely over a whisper. You grabbed your makeup bag walking into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.

Peter regretted yelling at you. He wasn’t going to lie. He wasn’t a heartless monster. The two of you were in this weird position, Peter didn’t know what was going on, let alone you. He couldn’t fault you for panicking. He didn’t know why he was so mad at you. You had looked so cute in your white robe and your slippers. Maybe he was a monster.

He sighed, knowing you’d spend most of your time in the bathroom, he got up and made his way to his luggage, putting on a nice dress shirt and a pants. He wanted to make you feel better. He needed to apologise.

You walked out of the bathroom, a pout on your face, your hair was done, and you wore makeup that complimented your skin. You looked beautiful and Peter regretted that he had made you upset. He regretted it so much.

You looked up at Peter, your gaze met with his, you smiled careful, nervous, taking in the fact that he had gotten ready for dinner with your ex’s, “You got dressed.”

“Yeah… I felt bad.”

“You felt bad?” You asked.

“…Yeah, I… felt bad?" He was now questioning himself.

The two of you didn’t say anything more as you grabbed a dress from your suitcase, it had long sleeves and it was plain back, had a short cut. You thought it was pretty… and so did Peter. You went to the bathroom and slipped it on, appearing outside, your zipper undone. Your arms too short to reach the back.

“Can you zip me?” You asked Peter as you came out of the bathroom.

“Y-yeah.” He muttered quickly walking over to you, his fingers running against the zipper, against your back as he pulled it up. You could hear his breath quicken. You could feel yours do the same.

Once the zipper was done, you had to cast a remark, Peter was being too nice, “Get off me, Penis.” Your voice cut and Peter only laughed.

The nickname hadn’t stung as much this time.

*

The two of you showed up to the restaurant, meeting Eddie and Mary Jane, hand in hand, you gripped his, “Hi!” The two groups smiled at once as you took a seat across from the couple.

After a few minutes of pouring wine and decided what you wanted to eat. Eddie and Mary Jane gave you sweet smiles.

“So,” Mary Jane took a sip of her wine, “How did the proposal happen?”

You looked over at Peter, expectant, he hadn’t said anything, so you took over, “Well it was very sweet, Peter was so romantic. There were rows of flowers and-”

“And obviously, they were your favourites, I had planned the whole thing out. Under the stars, on my knees waiting for her on the beach. I love her so much.” Peter spoke, his tone was earnest and honest. He was speaking from the truth, “I was so happy when she showed up, her favourite song played in the background, even if it is some alternative stuff, it was her. She walked in and she was like ‘Peter what’s this’ and I was like ‘I love you so much and I want to be yours forever’ and blah blah blah.”

You took a large swig of wine and so did Peter.

Eddie smiled, “Well I’m glad everything worked out for you too, you had this whole feud going on when we were in school together.”

“Kept it going whilst Peter and I were together.” Mary Jane added, “What happened? How did that change?”

You decided to take the lead on this one, squeezing Peter’s hand in confirmation, “Well, I really wanted it to be over. I was tired and I could tell Peter was too. So, we became friends and we started hanging out more. Genuinely enjoying each other’s company and I realised maybe all these feels I had been bottling up weren’t hate at all… So, I kissed him, and he kissed me back.”

Your words were truth? Mostly? You weren’t sure. Maybe you did like Peter. It didn’t take much for you to know that you actually hadn’t hated him. The feud was over, and you had no idea who had won. Maybe both parties.

“Y-Yeah… I actually liked her back in Europe.” Peter confessed, stupidly at that, “Had this whole plan to tell her and everything, but she liked you. So, I said something else.”

You quickly connected the dots… That night on the bridge Peter was going to tell you that he had a crush on you. Your mind was blown, your jaw could’ve dropped, and you wanted to cry – all of this could’ve been all over so long ago. You shook it off and actually started to enjoy dinner with Peter.

The two of you started to get along and it was not unwelcomed.

*

The next day, you woke up in the comfortable pillows of the couch – which was probably just as comfortable as the bed. Peter startled you as he came out of the bathroom.

“I think I’m going skiing today,” Peter announces.

You chuckle, remembering the night before, the way you looked at Peter had changed, “Okay,”

“Do you, maybe, wanna come with?”

“Depends, is this just your plan to push me off the mountain and let me fall to my death?”

“No.” Peter rolls his eyes, “I had a good time last night, and while we’re here I was thinking that maybe we could try and get along? There’s no point in arguing and we’re here for another four days.”

You nodded, quickly agreeing to his plan, “Okay.” You smiled softly.

You and Peter quickly got dressed, putting on ski pants and puffer jackets to keep you warm. You put on your snow boots and began to become warm. The only thing you were wearing underneath your jacket was your Henley, which was honestly, all you needed. You slipped a beanie onto your head, and you could feel the thick socks and gloves you wore heating up your feet and hands. You felt like an oven.

You also carried a pair of goggles. The two of you walked out of the lodge, “I don’t ski a lot, but I am quite good," You confess.

Peter smiles, “Good, I was kinda hoping we could go on the larger slope.”

“That’s all good with me!” You smile sweet. It was good, this dynamic with Peter. You knew it would most likely go down the drain once you got back to your normal life. The life where Peter was your enemy.

You and Peter sat on the ski lift as it pulled you halfway up, “The view is beautiful,” You mutter quietly, warm, and snug in your getup.

Peter looked out at the view, nodding in agreement, “You can say that again.”

You and Peter sat in silence for a moment before the loud bang and the swing of your cart scared you, grabbing onto his hand. Suddenly, the two of you were not moving. Suddenly, the two of you were now stuck who knows how far up into the air.

“Holy fuck,” You groaned after about a half hour of somewhat awkward silence, “I can’t believe we got stuck.”

“I’m sure we’ll be back down soon enough,” Peter tries to comfort you.

You roll your eyes, “You know something that annoys me about you?”

“Shoot, you’re gonna say it anyway.”

“That you’ve got this false positivity. Nobody’s that positive, Penis.” You sigh, “It’s like you put all your shit on me, right?”

Peter’s silent for a short moment, “What can I say, you bring out the worst in me… we’re supposed to be getting along.”

“Maybe that’s just not in the books for people like us.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”

“But you are!” Peter sighs, “We’ve been doing this for so long, it’s like a second nature to us and fine! Maybe, I do have false positivity, because I have to, y/n.” His voice drops, “Do you know the kind of toll being Spider-Man has on you?”

You laugh, “Using your Spider-Man card? Really, Peter? That’s low.”

“It’s true, y/n.” He shifts in his seat, “Every day, I see people die and I try to save as many people as I can, but sometimes that doesn’t work. So, I try to be positive, keep my spirits up, because I know if I stop, I’ll stop pulling my punches.”

You felt bad for a moment, going to speak but Peter had interrupted you.

“Arguing with you… as stupid as this sounds, fuck, it gives me an outlet. You are my outlet from all the shitty things in the world.” Peter’s eyes go soft and so do yours.

You honestly wanted to cry, “I’m your safe space?”

He huffs, “Don’t make this weird.”

“I’m not making this weird!” You laugh.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not!” You laugh again, Peter deadpanning you, “It’s not stupid, Peter,” you say biting your lip, trying fighting a smile.

Peter thinks this is the cutest thing in the world, but he’s trying to act somewhat mad at you even if it’s not working. You know he’s not. Your faces have now drifted dangerously close to each other. Your smile faded as you felt Peters breath on yours, the world around you stopped. The wind wasn’t blowing, you could feel yourself lean in closer. Your heart pounding in your ears. You had no idea what was happening, and it didn't feel wrong... that’s why you kept moving closer.

Peter’s heart was thumping vigorously in his chest, feeling nothing but his heartbeat, the feeling of your eyes on his lips. He had no idea who had moved in first. Maybe it was both of you. Maybe it was him. Maybe it was you. But you were close. Close to him.

Your lips finally tangled together. Your gloves held his face as you could feel the soft of him, they were cold at first, but heat took over, Peters arm around your shoulder. The both of you lost in the moment, heads titled at the just the right angle as if they were made to fit each other. Your teeth nipped at his lower lip, his tongue sliding into your mouth, was slow, and warm. Taking a second to breathe, your lips still touching, barely apart, taking a second to breathe, just as you were about to lean in once more, the conveyor belt started to move again, starling both you and Peter away from each other, both of your lips slightly swollen.

Finally, up the top of the hill, letting go and sliding down the mountain. The kiss not being mentioned again the rest of the afternoon.

*

There was awkwardness.

That was the only way to describe it.

You and Peter tried to talk but every conversation was short lived. Your minds only on the one thing that had happened earlier.

Once you finally got back to the room, you decided you needed a moment to yourself. Slipping on your bathing suit, grabbing a towel and a bottle of wine – that you honestly, probably wouldn’t even touch, not because you didn’t want to, but because you had no idea what would happen if you weren’t sober.

The cool air hit you, chilling your spine, almost regretting coming out here, sliding into the water made it all worth it. You let out a small moan as you sunk deeper into the warm water, you weren’t sure whether or not you should turn the bubbles on, so you left the tub the way it was.

Your short-lived peace was soon interrupted by the one person who had caused the storm, the door to the outside open, Peter meeting your gaze.

“Shit, I didn’t realise you’d be out here.”

You smiled softly, “It’s okay… you can stay, if you want.”

Peter nodded. Your eyes gracing his skin, he was toned and the muscle in his arms shifted and flexed as he pulled into the warm tub, his moan of delight a sound that made you bite your lip and the way his collarbones appeared above the water made your heart pound, they were sharp, just like his jaw.

“Let’s play a game,”

“What kind of game?”

You shrugged, “I would suggest truth or dare, but I don’t really wanna leave the tub.”

Peter lets out a dry chuckle, “Then just pick truth.”

You quirked an eyebrow, “And what about you, Spider-Man?”

“I’ll probably be doing the same.”

Your breath hitched against air, matching the steam rose from the tub, “…So we just play for truth.”

“I’m good with that.” Peter’s voice was hoarse, deep.

“Okay.” You say, “I’ll go first… That stuff you said at dinner, about me, was it true?”

Peter nods slowly, “It was… I liked you. But when we got to that bridge, I panicked, you clearly liked Eddie and I was planning on telling you about my whole situation anyway afterI told you I liked you… I just- I just skipped a step.”

You frowned, “Pete…I liked you. On that trip to Europe. I liked you.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “You did?”

You nodded, “I- I was battling with whether or not I liked you, or Eddie. If you would’ve told me…”

“At least you know now.”

“Yeah…”

Peter clears his throat and clears the air, “My turn.” He smirks, something that you have missed, “The kiss. What did it mean?”

You felt like the wind was knocked out of you. But the question remained in the air. What did it mean?

You were so focused on hating Peter you never really looked at it. How Peter made your stomach flutter once upon a time and although you were much older than you were when he had liked you, he still made your stomach do summersaults when he’d wink at you after a mean remark, trying to look smug, trying to impress whoever was watching. How at the wedding you had felt his gaze all over your body in your dress but decided to ignore it because you loved the way it felt and how turned on you were. How you wanted to grab him by his stupid blue shirt and plant your lips on his. How you wanted to feel every inch of the boy sitting across from you and you were way too blind to even bat an eye at how you felt because you were too busy coming up with expressions that would make him say ‘fuck you’ instead of ‘fuck me’.

You knew exactly what it meant.

The water closed in on your skin, drops of it shined under the soft light of the tub. Peter watched as you pushed yourself up to move closer to him. His gaze felt like it had at the wedding, admiring the way your boobs hung off your chest. You didn’t mind, not one bit. How when you got so close to him, his eyes moved from your lips to your own.

“Everything.”

And just like that your lips were pressed onto his again, it was heated, you felt hotter than you should as you were now seated on Peter’s lap, feeling his hands run all over your body, even if they were accompanied by the hot of the water, you could feel how they imprinted onto your skin. You and Peter pulled apart for a moment, foreheads touching, breath on breath.

“I want you.” Peter admitted, his hands running up your body to cup your face.

“‘M all yours,” You murmured.

“Then let’s take this inside?”

You nodded, excited, nervous? You weren’t sure.

You removed yourself from Peter’s lap, exiting the hot tub, feeling the cool air hit your skin once more, your nipples perking from the cold. Something you were sure Peter would love. You chuckled at the thought.

Peter’s hands slide up your wet body, undoing the string to your bikini, pulling you close against his bare chest, his hands running up to squeeze your tits as your face falls into the crane of his neck, kissing his neck. Peter’s head falls back as he moans. You feel Peter’s hands run down the rest of your body, feeling his desire in his touch.

When you and Peter turn to face each other, your lips in contact, moving in sync as all you can do is feel the overwhelming sense of his body and touch, longing for the moments that his hands sit on your body to last forever. You moan against the kiss as the two of you fall on to the bed. You feel Peter’s body weight over you, and his board-shorts are in the way of what you really want. The weight of Peter on you just makes everything feel like a thousand. You can’t imagine what sex must feel like for Peter, probably better than what it feels for you, everything feels turned up for you, but everything is constantly turned up for him.

Peter’s arms were strong as they held you in place, and you felt your stomach burn with fire, you shook your head at what you were thinking but you know that just about now, Peter would do anything for you.

“Peter,” You stopped him nipping at you, your words some kind of disturbance in the fire, “Do you have that web dissolver stuff?”

Peter’s smirk was something honest, something that was different from every other time he had smirked at you. From every time this kind of smile meant something rude or mean and unwanted. It was knowing. It was wanting.

“I do…” Peter brushed your lips together, his breath full on your face, smelling like peppermint.

“Web me up, Peter.”

Peter’s gaze became darkened as his pupils dilatated, and he pressed his lips onto yours to seal the deal. You were excited and nervous. You always wonder how it must feel to be tied to a bed, but rather then… this was with Peter. Someone who had webs. Someone who was stronger than most men on earth. You were still lying down but your hands touched the bedhead, Peter discarded his boardshorts, they landed in a wet squelch on top of your bathing suit in the other room. Peter was now standing there naked, wearing his web shooters on his wrists and you thought it was one of the hottest things you had ever seen. Peter in the suit was wow… but the Peter out of it? God, you were so happy you had him all to yourself tonight, that he had you.

Peter’s webs quickly connecting with your wrists a force that made you a little scared, but Peter sensed how you were feeling and quickly came over placing his lips to yours, “You’re alright,” He coos softly, and you feel yourself flush.

You lean forward to press your lips to his, but Peter quickly moves back, “You’re not in control anymore, y/n.” His breath is hungry on your ear.

His kisses start moving down your body as he probably places hickeys everywhere he can probably think of. His lips end up between your tits and for a moment you think he’s going to mark his territory on your right boob, his breath hovering overing the nipple. But you squirm as he moves lower down your body, feeling an itch in your spine.

Peter’s mouth doesn’t press kisses anymore, his breath just hovers until he gets to your pussy, hot all over it. You feel yourself so wet, and Peter knows it too, he can smell it. He could smell your arousal all the way back in the hot tub.

Peter’s finger grazes the lips, he slides a finger near your clit, rubbing in soft, slow circles and you let out a soft moan, it was quiet and careful. It came out kinda broken, but all the same, you were giving into him. You hated that you couldn’t run your hands through his hair, but that made his touch all the more intoxicating. It only made you want him more than you ever had before.

Peter’s thumb continued to circle your clit, slowly, but surely, he begins moving his finger faster around your nub. You let out a small whimper of pleasure. Peter moves his finger away replacing it with his tongue, lapping at your pussy, tasting how wet you are, running miles around your clit as you moan sweet. Peter almost cums because of how you taste, because of how you moan. But he refrains himself from doing so. Peter’s tongue feels so good around your clit, flicking his tongue so perfectly, knowing how to make you feel good about yourself. Your back moves up slightly but not quite… that is until a finger gently slips into you, your clit pulsing as you feel Peter move his finger in and out of you pressing onto your g-spot. Your moans filling the air as Peter inhales a sharp breath because of how beautiful they sound to him, and they would make him blush if he didn’t breathe. They would make him smile. His fingers move faster as they pleasure every inch of your body, your back arching and your spine shivering because you can’t touch him. You want to touch him. You want to run your fingernails down his back, you want to run your fingers through his hair and push his tongue harder onto your clit, let him press against your body so heavily, so needily. Let him fuck the shit out of you so hard that you forget your own name. That you can’t walk the next day.

Your moans become louder as Peter fills you up, every inch of you with his large and rough hands. Putting his strength to good use. You can tell he’s holding back on his strength for the better of you. Scared of hurting you. Scared of making you hate him again. Because although this was desire, although this was the two of you lost in something you didn’t know much about. This relationship unclarified, this relationship rocky. There is a part of you that both understands that there’s this spark in both of you, this connection, this feeling and it makes you want to scream his name and only his name. You needed all of him.

You needed Peter to fuck you, and there was only one way you could possibly get that from him, get him to fill you with his cock and everything that came with it. You wanted him to cum inside you. You didn’t care right now. Your head so lost in something you’ve never known before. You’d obviously had sex before, but nobody had ever made you this hungry, nobody ever made you had a need for their touch. Nobody ever made you feel this good.

You tried to force down your next moan in order to speak, but it was no use, you were completely and utterly underneath Peters stupid spell… after a moment you gathered some composure?

“Peter.” You spoke again, breaking up what he was doing, he came up to meet your gaze, “I wanna feel you… all of you.” You said smiling somewhat bashfully, sweet, and shy.

Peter’s lips hovered over yours again, and you were only more turned on but also hating the fact that you couldn’t touch him. That you couldn’t leave marks on the back of his skin, that even though Peter had given you so many hickeys that you’d probably look like you had chicken pox the next day. You hated that you couldn’t mark yourterritory, much like Peter had marked his.

“…and unweb me.” You chuckled lightly.

Peter smiled softly, so close to your face that you feel his chuckle graze your lips, “One sec.”

Peter left the room for a moment and as you sat there webbed up you could feel yourself start to get nervous – what if you weren’t good enough? What if you didn’t feel good enough? Doubts started to flood your mind, but as Peter came back with a vile of web dissolver… the way he looked at you made you relax. Know that you were enough. Know that everything was okay. He looked at you like you were the only person in the room. Like you were all he wanted. Everything he wanted to devour and eat. Everything he needed. You were like his drug, and you could see it in his eyes. The way his pupils dilate and the way he licks his lips when he sees you webbed up for him on the bed.

He lets out a dry chuckle, “You sure you want me to unweb you?” He jokes, moving closer to you, a kiss nipping at your neck.

You moan softly as he presses a kiss to this one spot on your neck, one that makes you get goosebumps all over, “I need to feel you, Peter.” You say serious.

He nods running the serum over your hands as the webs immediately dissolve, it takes a moment but then the dissolver is gone, and it feels as if it was never there in the first place.

You run your hands over Peter’s chest, finally feeling his biceps, his abs. The way they were so defined. So created by everything that made him, him. You wanted to lick them. You wanted to devour and leave hickeys on every ab that sat so perfectly on his chest. But you also needed his cock in you. Your body feeling the ache of his hands away and the way your stomach felt like pits of fire as his hands ran all over you.

“How bad do you need me?” He questions you, another kiss to that one spot on your neck.

“Bad, Peter.” You gulped carefully, “I wanna ride you and I never want to stop.”

Peter could only smile, “Fuck… you are perfect.” He groans, lying down on the bed. His cock hard, wanting you and your touch and only yours. He needed you and you needed him. You positioned yourself carefully over his dick, as you feel it enter your pulsing hole that ached for any part of Peter you could possibly get.

You let out a loud moan that shook the room as you placed your hands onto both Peter’s thighs, your fingernails digging into them as he also let out a moan. You moved carefully at first, feeling his cock on your g-spot was like a dream for both of you. Long gone in the feeling of desire as he watched your tits bounce on your chest as you try to move around his cock. Your hips grinding over every part of his lower abdomen. His cock fills you. It’s large and long and god, the way Peter holds onto you as you grind, makes you want to cum. Makes you want him to cum all up inside of you. Feeling every last bit of Peter.

Peter watches you intently, loving the sight of you riding his cock. But you’re getting tired, and Peter can sense it. Quickly, he flips you over and places his lips onto yours as you lean into it. Feeling grateful, that Peter, was once again, taking over. You could hear the crunch of the bedhead as Peter held onto it, grunting as he moved in and out of you. His strength holding him up, making his biceps pop out of his arms and his veins pump. He felt strong and so did you as you took every inch of Peter. You took him hard as he pound in your wet pussy. Your nails dug into his back, scratching him as the two of you move. Leaving red streaks all over his back. Needing more.

The only sounds that fill the room were the two of you moaning, the way the bed move underneath you and the way he hit your g-spot. The way you were everything he needed. The way he was all yours. The way you were all his. It made you both lost. The sound of your moans both getting louder and louder. Needier and needier. Kisses becoming sloppy and hungry and all the two of you knew how to do. The only thing that felt right in that moment.

It felt animalistic, it felt hot. You felt so strongly of desire and Peter was only all the more turned on by the smell of how wet you were, the smell of your pussy. How it filled his nose and every breath he took. Only focusing on you. Only focusing on how perfectly your tits bounce as he move your body. Your body felt like it was made of liquid, moving so flawless, so effortlessly. Both of you unable to differentiate where everything started and where it would end, because both of you were only tangled up in each other’s limbs, you felt nothing but Peter. His skin underneath the nails. His desire filling your mouth as your tongues tangle themselves in each other just like your bodies.

You couldn’t feel yourself, you felt hungry, you felt needed. You weren’t in any state of mind to do anything but this. Peter’s cock felt like it was burning your pussy. The way he gripped the headboard said it all. The way he wasn’t letting himself go and this was only not even a quarter of how good he could make you feel. He was a force of nature.

You could feel yourself in a desperate need to cum. Desperate for Peter to cum inside you and both of you were getting closer to the edge and you both knew it. You could feel the burning pit of familiar fire burning in your stomach. Although this was not desire, this was a burning pit of a knot that needs you to feel some sort of release. That needs you to let go of everything that has built up inside of you.

“Peter, I’m gonna cum.”

It almost never happened. A rare occurrence. Something so slim that both of you would have to work toward separately, “Me too.”

“Please cum inside me, Peter,” You moaned wanting him all.

The two of you were reaching your point at the same time. Something so unrealistic – much like this pair of people sleeping together was happening. You could feel Peter’s cock twitch in your hole, still pumping you out as you grappled onto Peter’s back for dear life, feeling the pleasure and release all through you, all over Peter’s cock. You could feel him twitch in you once more, a signal that he had just cum all inside you. Your grunts and moans calmed down as Peter slowed down, pumping you still, riding each of you off of the high. Your juices mixed together. Feeling nothing but each other.

Peter’s body falls beside yours as the two of you try and heave breaths that sit in your throat.

“Holy shit.” You murmur against the thick air that quickly disperses. Leaving you and Peter in nothing but silence.

You turn to him, “I don’t want this to be like a one-time thing, Peter… It meant something.”

“I know, that’s why, we’re gonna get you cleaned up and tomorrow, I’m going to spend the day with you.” Peter kisses your collarbone, “…and then take you out for dinner. A proper date. Something that we never got to do. A relationship that we never got to have.”

You smile pressing a peck to Peter’s soft lips. Both of your lips swollen and your clit still pulsing from the aftershock of everything that had just happened between the two of you.

“I’d like that.”

--

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you wear an oversized t-shirt and an old pair of peter’s boxers. peter went shirtless and threw on some flannel bottoms, his natural curls springing up in every direction.

the domesticity of being snuggled in his bed like this, how completely yourselves you two are around each other has had peter picturing the rest of your lives together.

“you, actually. i’m thinking about you,” peter admits, voice low.

your curiosity piqued, you lift your head from his lap with a toothy grin. you sit up and swing your legs around peter’s waist. he holds you by your hips, using the position to draw you closer.

“interesting. what about me?” you muse. “how much i love you,” peter instantly answers, a smirk crossing his features. “and what i love about you.”

you let your arms wind around his neck, a hand tangling into some curls at the back.

“feel free to elaborate on that.”

peter pretends to ponder your offer for a moment.

“uh, let’s see,” he begins, mentally running through the list.

his grip on your hips becomes firmer, words more serious.

“i love that you can make anyone smile… i’m not sure what it is.” peter promptly sports a smile of his own. “it’s like, you just manage to brighten every day. no matter how dark it gets.”

you’re touched by his words. you honestly weren’t expecting him to say all that. although, peter is a huge softie.

“aw, pete,” you murmur, thumb brushing over his skin. “no way. thank you, baby.”

peter gives you a tender peck on your lips, then looks you up and down with heart eyes.

“of course, sweetheart.”

your hands now grabbing at peter’s broad shoulders, you beam.

“ok, my turn,” you decide. “wanna know what i love about you?” peter cocks his head to the side. “go for it.”

you hum.

“how much love you have,” you simply state. “how devoted you are to everyone and everything, and that you genuinely care.”

playfully, you roll your eyes.

“even about those who don’t deserve it.”

peter chuckles in disbelief, his gaze on you somehow filled with more adoration than it was before. the intensity of it causes your stomach to do summersaults.

“i know we’re still kids ourselves, but it…” you scrunch your nose. “it’s why i think you’d be the most incredible dad someday.”

shaking his head, peter finds both your hands and takes them in his.

“no, no. i’ve thought about that, too,” he reassures you. “starting a family with you, i mean. it’s always on my mind.”

peter intertwines each of your pinkies. he leans his forehead against yours, speaking no louder than a whisper.

“it’s you, y/n. you’re the one, now and forever.“

you exhale, biting on your lip to suppress another smile.

“i’m ridiculously in love with you, peter parker.”

he presses a kiss to your connected fingers.

“brace yourself. you might feel a little prick,” you joke. “hold my hand?” peter quirks a brow.

your fingers naturally thread through his, peter locking them together. you use your other hand to begin drawing.

you decide on a smiley face and a couple of hearts for his wrist. he watches, but his eyes stay on you rather than your artwork. after scribbling your best attempted stars onto his skin, you move up to his arm.

you neatly write out peter + y/n 4ever in big letters.

that being the finishing touch, you squeeze peter’s hand to signal you’re done.

“thoughts?“ you prompt him, setting your pen down on the table. peter looks over what you drew before looking back up at you. “it’s a masterpiece, y/n. you did it again,” he declares. “easy when i have you as my muse,” you lean in so your nose nudges peter’s.

he chuckles and shakes his head, the tips of your noses rubbing together. your index finger traces over one of the hearts on his wrist.

“greetings, losers,” mj nods at you two as she plops into an empty chair at your table. “how’s it coming along?”

you use your intertwined hands to raise peter’s arm, showcasing your so-called masterpiece. peter shrugs a shoulder.

“seems about right,” mj comments, a smirk pulling at her lips. “she obviously understood the assignment,” peter jokes. you play along. “what can i say? you either have it, or you don’t.”

you rest yours and peter’s hands on the table. his thumb brushes over yours.

“sure,” mj narrows her eyes at you both. “anyway. parker, mind if i steal your girl for a while? i need her expertise for my first draft.”

peter’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.

“my girl?” peter repeats. “what’re you talking about? y/n’s not my girl,” he awkwardly laughs out, looking to you for backup. “yeah, no. that’s… that’s crazy. we’re just friends,” you scoff. “best friends,” peter adds.

“you sure about that?” mj points at your hands, still in each other’s. “so what? we hold hands, like, all the time,” peter defends you two. mj sighs. “my point exactly. you guys are way too touchy to be ‘just friends’,” she air quotes you. “everybody sees it but you, huh?”

well, she’s not wrong.

you glance over at peter. he’s staring down at his feet, head hanging low. there’s a sudden heaviness in the air.

“i think i’ve disturbed the peace enough for one day,” mj observes your changes in mood. “i’ll leave you to it. later, losers.”

she stands from the table and goes back to her own. you and peter sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to do with yourselves. he’s the first to break it.

“can you believe her?” peter tries to laugh it off. “i mean, where did that come from? we’re totally just friends… right?” he gulps when you take too long to answer.

before mj called you out, you wouldn’t have hesitated to agree. now, you’re not so certain. you have to think about it.

you’ve loved peter as long as you’ve known him, and he loves you right back. the connection was instant. you two just clicked, like it was meant to be, like everything fell into place right then and there.

the way you feel for peter, you don’t anyone else. you’ve memorized every little detail about him. you can confidently say you know him better than he knows himself. you know all his takeout orders, what makes him tick, the one spot on his head he likes to be scratched.

peter swears his life’s mission is to be yours, and for you to be his. there’s nowhere he would rather be than by your side. he’s spent countless nights falling asleep with you over facetime calls because he doesn’t want to hang up, he never lets you get too far without a pinkie linked in yours or an arm around your shoulders.

neither of you have ever questioned the nature of your relationship. it’s just been what’s it’s been, two besties for the resties.

until now.

“just friends,” you confirm, although unconvincingly. “yeah.”

your hands slip from each other’s.

you and peter begin working on your projects. instead of your usual back and forth, you don’t dare speak a word. your only exchange is when your knee knocks into peter’s by accident, resulting in a deep blush coating his cheeks.

the bell finally rings after what feels like forever. you both pack up your work in your art folders at lightning speed, ready to go. art is your last class of the day. you slide your folder towards peter, as a reminder. one of you always brings them up to your teacher at the end of the period.

“your turn,” you muster a smile. peter returns it, his lips pressed tightly together. “meet you at the door,” he murmurs.

peter collects both your folders while you gather your backpacks. he heads over to your teacher’s desk, making it halfway there when flash stops him.

“yo, check out parker’s tramp stamp,” flash announces, grasping at peter’s arm where both your names are written. “looks like a y/n original. that’s dope,” he compliments. “the mrs has talent, don’t you think?”

“get off me, flash,” peter scowls and yanks his arm away. “we’re just friends,” he corrects. flash nods at him. “keeping it on the low. i respect that,” he approves. “what a gentleman. y/n’s a lucky lady, that’s for sure.”

peter’s face heats up in embarrassment.

“i just told you, we’re not-“

he’s interrupted by betty, whose attention was caught by flash’s remarks.

“aw, that’s so cute! did y/n draw this?” betty grabs ahold of peter’s arm. she admires your work. “you guys are adorbs,” she gawks. “babe, come check this out!” she summons ned over. peter groans. “oh my god, does anybody listen?” he grumbles.

he storms off, before ned can join them. he then drops your folders on your teacher’s desk and hurries over to you, where you’re waiting at the door. you hand him his backpack, noticing a frown etched onto his features.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, tightening the straps around his shoulders. “no problem. you okay?” you question. “i’m alright. let’s just get out of here, hm?” he bumps his shoulder with yours. “lead the way,” you grin.

the tension between you two slowly fades on the walk home to peter’s apartment. you complain about homework and hold hands the whole way there, like normal. only this time, peter’s palm is sweaty against your own out of nerves.

everything your friends said is still at the back of his mind. do they really all think you’re a couple? does he like you as more than a friend and hasn’t realized it yet? does he love you even?

do you love him?

“snap out of it, pedro,” you elbow peter’s side. “we’re here. you spaced out for a sec,” you explain, peter blinking rapidly as he zones back in. “sorry,” he apologizes. you follow him to the main doors of his building. “you’re good. it happens,” you squeeze his hand in reassurance.

you wonder if peter is thinking about the same thing you are.

the two of you collapse on peter’s couch the second you get up to his apartment. peter insists you start your homework, and you suggest english first. it’s a reading assignment. so you won’t be bored to tears by shakespeare, he offers to read it to you. of course, you take him up on that.

you’re laying in peter’s lap, a blanket sprawled over both of you. peter holds the book where you can see it.

“this better be good, parker. i want nothing less than an oscar winning performance,” you demand, gazing up at him. peter opens the book with a chuckle. “then that’s what you’ll get,” he promises, beginning to read.

you go through the first scene of the play, entertained by the voices peter does for each character. he beams to himself every time he makes you laugh. you’re enjoying it so much that even after he finishes your required reading for the night, you urge him to keep going.

you’re playing with the collar of peter’s flannel, listening to him reenact hamlet. he runs his fingers up and down your shoulder soothingly.

“do not mock me, fellow student,” peter reads in a terrible british accent, earning a giggle from you. “i think it was to see my-“

he pauses when aunt may walks through the door. she’s back from volunteering at the shelter. she has a takeout bag in hand, grinning at the sight of you and peter curled up on the couch.

“hey, kiddos. am i interrupting?” may wonders. “not at all! we were just doing some homework,” you assure her, tapping the book in peter’s hands. peter flashes his aunt a smile. “hi, may. how was work?” he asks her. “good, good. slow day, so i got off early. you know how it goes,” she hums.

you sit up from your position in peter’s lap, the blanket coming with you. he cuddles into your side to make up for the loss of warmth. his face nuzzles in the crook of your neck, your arms secured around his torso.

“something smells good,” peter speaks against you. “i got thai! our favorite,” may winks. your face lights up. “ugh, just what i need. i’m starving,” you pat your stomach for emphasis. “me too,” peter concurs. “me three,” may chuckles, placing the takeout bag on the kitchen table.

she pads over to you and peter, taking a seat beside peter on the couch. peter stretches an arm out and puts it around her shoulders with a sigh of content.

“me and my girls,” he smiles lazily, eyes fluttering closed. “what a sap,” may teases. you press a kiss to peter’s styled curls. “never change, pete. never change,” you laugh out.

peter leaves a kiss on the side of your neck. you and may exchange pouts. your drawings on peter’s wrist from earlier are peeking out from under his sleeve, sparking may’s interest.

“what’s this?” may questions. “oh, it’s nothing. i drew it. we were messing around in art today,” you reply, voice quieting. peter hides his face further in your neck. “here we go again,” he mutters.

you were both hoping to put the fiasco behind you.

may rolls peter’s sleeve to get a better look. she reads over what you wrote, peter + y/n 4ever.

“nice ink,” may gives you a knowing grin. “you two are just the cutest. reminds me so much of ben and i at your age,” she reminisces. “ah, to be young and in love.”

you clear your throat uncomfortably. peter softly squeezes your side and dips his head out from in your neck, shifting to face his aunt.

“we’re not in love, may,” peter states. may’s brows knit together. “no? but you love each other, don’t you?” she asks. “of course,” you answer a bit too quickly. “but… that’s not the same thing,” you rush out. peter nods, furiously. “right. we’re just friends,” he says his signature line.

“uh huh. you’re not fooling anyone but yourselves,” may clicks her tongue, getting up from the couch. “let’s dig in before the food gets cold. i’ll set the table, you two go wash up.”

she pats your arm on her way to the kitchen. you and peter head to the bathroom, his cheeks burning bright red and your heart pounding.

deep down, you both know may is right. you have such a strong love for each other, stronger than either of you can comprehend. that’s why it takes someone on the outside looking in to truly see.

you can’t run from your feelings forever, though. you have to confront them.

once you reach the bathroom, peter turns on the sink for you two. you shut the door behind you. your gaze stays fixed on him as he digs around a drawer for a washcloth, wetting it under the water. he pumps some soap onto it and begins to wipe off your drawings.

damn.

peter scrubs as hard as he can, but the ink doesn’t fade. he lets out a frustrated breath and looks to you.

“could you help me? this won’t come off,” peter speaks lowly. “uh, yeah. sure,” you agree, walking over to him. he hands you the washcloth with an apologetic smile. “sorry. it’s just that everyone keeps asking about it, and…” he trails off. “i get it, it’s easier. nothing personal,” you half smile.

you squirt more soap onto the washcloth and lather it up. peter holds out his arm to you, you starting to clean off the ink. you’re much gentler about it than he is. he appreciates that.

the ink still doesn’t budge, despite your efforts. once you’ve been at it for long enough, you come to the conclusion that it’s a lost cause.

“guess you have your answer,” you laugh lightly, wringing out the washcloth. “the ink is permanent, after all,” you finish. peter shakes his head, the hint of a grin on his lips. “when you said forever, you meant it,” he references what you’d written.

peter + y/n 4ever.

you turn off the sink and get a towel for peter. he lets you dry his arm off, fully grinning at you as you do so. you shyly smile back every once in a while. after you’re done, you hang the towel back up on the wrack. you hop up to sit on the counter and exhale definitively. peter comes to stand between your legs, his hands on either side of the counter.

“thank you, y/n,” he starts. “i, um, i was thinking…” he peeks up at you. your face scrunches. “that’s never good,” you cut in, peter chuckling nervously. “no, seriously. hear me out,” he retorts.

“i was thinking about what may said. and mj, and flash, and betty, and,” peter sucks in a breath. “well, everyone,” he admits. you giggle, bringing a comforting hand to his shoulder. “and?” you ask. he presses his forehead against yours, some stray curls tickling you. “are we really just friends?” he almost whispers.

“you tell me,” you reply. you search for peter’s eyes, your free hand settling against his chest. “i’m not sure,” peter responds, waiting a beat before he continues. “but i wanna be more,” his eyes flick up to yours. “if… if you do. i don’t know. do you, uh, do you feel the same?” he checks.

that’s not what you were expecting, especially with peter being so adamant on the fact that there’s nothing more between you two. then again, neither of you have been willing to face it. you’ve been ignoring your feelings just as much as he has.

your hand on peter’s chest travels up to his cheek, thumb caressing his skin. he bites on his bottom lip.

“i think so,” you smile, relief washing over you now that you’ve finally said it. “i love you, pete,” you nod once. peter pulls back to look into your eyes. “yeah? like, love me love me?” he wonders. “more than i could say,” you cup his cheek tenderly.

this is certainly a turn of events. when peter came to terms with how he felt, he was worried you wouldn’t reciprocate.

peter takes your hand into both of his own and kisses the back of it. you hook your legs around his waist, keeping him in place.

“sorry, baby. gotta get this clean,” you offer an apologetic smile and squeeze peter’s thigh. “yeah, i know. i know. it’s okay,” peter reassures you, returning your smile.

he’s sitting on a box of cleaning supplies with you kneeling in front of him. his suit is peeled down to expose his arms, which are where most of his gashes reside. there are also a few scattered across his chest, one on his abdomen.

peter’s opponents sure put up a fight.

“those two did quite the number on you, huh?” you ask, stroking your thumb along peter’s thigh soothingly. peter lets out a breathy laugh. “max, mostly. marko was actually on my side… until he wasn’t,” peter recounts, his nose scrunching. “i’m not too sure what happened,” he admits. “us neither. we wanted to watch, but the facetime got disconnected,” you murmur.

peter had taped his phone to his suit so you, ned, and mj could see what was going on. you were supposed to guide him through the darkness of the woods where he’d fought. unfortunately, that didn’t go as planned.

if it did, maybe peter wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

your smile fades to a frown at the thought. you hold your hand out for another wipe, peter placing it in your palm. you slide your other hand up to rest against his bare chest.

“here’s your warning,” you speak quietly, beginning to disinfect peter’s arm. “thanks,” peter winces, lips pressing into a tight smile.

he searches for your eyes, but you avoid his gaze.

“how many more do you have to catch?” you wonder. “of them?” peter nods in the direction of the multiverse men. “just one more. we’re almost done, i promise,” he sighs out. his fingers thread through yours, lips pressing to your fingertips. “then we can put this whole thing behind us,” he mumbles.

your eyes finally flick over to peter’s puppy ones, his face lighting up. you grab a bandaid and unwrap it, peter linking his pinkie with yours.

“thanks again for all your help, y/n/n. i appreciate it,” peter grins down at you. “i appreciate you, and i love you,” he hums.

you don’t say anything. you only stick the bandage onto the cut on peter’s shoulder, then reach to get another.

peter takes your hand in his before you can.

“y/n? i love you,” he repeats, brows knitting together. “you know that, right?”

tears instantly well in your eyes, your head shaking in response. you look away from peter, ashamed of yourself and of how tonight went.

“peter, i…” your voice cracks. “i feel like i’m not doing enough. i’m not doing enough for you,” you whisper, a tear rolling down your cheek. peter cocks his head to the side in confusion. “what’re you talking about, angel? that’s not true,” he corrects.

“yes, it is! c’mon, pete,” you laugh in disbelief. “i sat here on my ass all night while you were out saving the world,” you sniffle, glancing up at peter through watery eyes. peter’s features soften. “and now you’re hurt because of it. i’m so sorry, peter. i… i let you down,” you whimper.

“hey,” peter’s voice comes out deeper. he tilts your chin up towards him. “trust me when i tell you, it’s not your fault. you did what you could,” he vows. “and it still wasn’t enough,” you add on.

“stop saying that, y/n. please,” peter begs, grasping your chin between his thumb and index finger. “you dropped everything to be here, you tracked down a bunch of those multiverse dudes,” he lists off. “you’re taking care of me right now.”

peter gives you a small smile. you close your eyes as more tears escape them.

“you’ve done more than enough, okay?” he coos. “c’mere, come sit with me.”

he scoots over on the cardboard box, patting the spot next to him. you inhale an uneven breath as you haul yourself up to your feet. you plop down beside peter, knuckles digging into your eyes to dry yours tears. peter gently pushes your hands away and uses his own, his thumbs dabbing at your damp skin.

“i do know you love me, peter. i love you, too,” you rasp. “sometimes i just worry it’s not…” you trail off. “enough?” peter finishes for you. you crack the tiniest smile. “yeah. not enough,” you echo him. “well, it is. love is everything,” he affirms, planting a light kiss on your chin. “your love is everything,” he decides.

“i love you so much, baby,” you nestle your face into peter’s chest. his skin feels warm on yours. “sorry your life got so fucked up… with the multiverse and everything,” you say against him. you feel his chest vibrate with a low chuckle. “mm, i love you. it was fucked up way before that, though,” peter challenges. “fair enough,” you grin.

you retrieve the bandaid you were grabbing earlier, covering one of the gashes on peter’s chest with it. you kiss the bandaid, then peek up at peter. once again, you’re met with his puppy eyes.