Peter Parker Imagines

1 - Mistletoe

You and Peter are walking down the street on your way home after getting a casual meal together.

Everything is quiet, only the hum of people doing last minute Christmas shopping and the occasional car trundling past- every noise is being absorbed by the blanket of snow dancing in the air.

Neither of you talk, both wanting to say something and enjoying eachother's presence. You had liked him for a while. From his warming brown eyes to his excited smile he makes you feel safe, loved... but he doesn't feel the same. Why would he? He could have anyone - he's smart, handsome, funny... not to mention the fact that he's frickin spiderman. Who wouldn't want that?

You begin to scan your surroundings in awe as Peter crouched down to tie his shoelace, and you take a few steps away from him to get closer to some dainty icicles dangling from a signpost. You stop. You feel a thump to the back of your head followed by a trickle of icy water down your neck, slowly crawling down your previously warm back. Peter. Turning around you see his face filled with a goofy smile, hands covered in snow from making a snowball. Oh he's gonna pay for that.

Both of you race to craft snowballs before launching them at eachother, ducking and diving to avoid the other's blows. Peter lands another on your forehead and one on your leg whilst you get him twice in the chest and once on his leg. You continue till you're both as red as Peter's spidey suit and you collapse into eachother, panting and laughing. Silence settles for a few minutes while you both catch your breath and you take the time to take in the feeling of his strong arms around you, clutching you as if he never wants to let you go.

After you both recover he loosens his grip, straightening up. "We better get back... your dad's gonna kill me," he chuckled and you giggled too. Your dad was definitely strict but you knew that he loved Peter really, I mean, who doesn't? You definitely did. Despite the comfort you feel by his side you can't shake the feeling that you're lying to him, that he should know how you feel... but that was too great a risk you don't want to ruin your friendship. Peter is your best friend, you can't lose him.

The two of you begin slowly waking back along the street, making gentle conversation about the snow and people you passed until you're interrupted by a loud,  "Ha ha!!"

"I got someone!" You look up to see an older man looking at the both of you, a freakishly large smile plastered on his wrinkled face. "Look up lovebirds!"

To your horror - or delight you couldn't tell which - a small, neat bundle of mistletoe hung above your heads, tied with a red ribbon. You were so distracted by your conversation that you had wandered to the edge of the path where very few people walked, where the man had been waiting to pounce.

"Go on them! Don't keep me waiting!"

Oh no.

Peter puts a hand on your shoulder, turning to face you and putting his other hand at the other side. Sheepishly, you look up to see Peter's chocolate brown eyes gazing into yours. He looked nervous.

He brushes away leftover snow from the snowball he threw from your forehead, not breaking eye contact. "May I?"

Oh my God. Butterflies fill your stomach. Of course you want him to kiss you but don't want him to feel forced. "Yes, I mean, you don't have to, we can just ignore it... don't feel forced..."

"Shhh," he whispered, laughing a little, putting a warm hand on your lips, tracing his finger down to your chin where he cups your face, tilting your chin up.

His lips meet yours. He's shy, you can tell but oh my lord you wanted this so bad. Everything around you blurs - all you can feel is the gentle touch of his hand on your waist and the other around your cheek. He's so careful, you can't help but melt into him, savouring the moment.

After your lips part his forehead remains pressed to yours. You're breathless. That kiss was all you've ever wanted, but of course it didn't mean anything to him, it was just a mistletoe kiss after all.

"That was even better than I imagined." He grinned.

"What?"

Instead of answering he crashes into you again in another passionate kiss. He likes you. There are no words needed. His hand slides around the back of your head, pulling you closer and holding you tight.
You cup his face with your hands and you never want to let him go. One hand runs through his unruly hair, combing it out of his face. The moment seems to last forever - you want it to, this is everything you've ever dreamed of and more.

As he pulls away he gently tucks your hair behind your ear, out of your face, turning the butterflies from before into a tornado in your stomach.

"I love you."

"I love you too Peter, and I always will."