R A N D O M || OS

26. (MCU) Peter Parker/Andrew G. - Drag You Down II

https://spidervee.tumblr.com/

Summary: On the third night, you let yourself touch him, feel him beneath your fingers as your hands roamed his chest and his heart pulsed against your palm. You wondered if you might turn your hand into shadow, sink into his skin, and hold his heart—his big, beautiful heart—there, forever yours to keep safe. But your hand was—you were—nothing but shadow. Fleeting at best, dark and devouring at worst. You wanted to give in, consume this masked man, so when his hands—solid, firm, sure—slipped up your shirt to caress the curve of your stomach, you let it happen.

Words: 2k

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"Isn't this the part where the hero gets to kiss the girl?"
"I dunno," he replied quietly, his hand shifting from your chin to his own, beginning to pull up the edges of his mask. Your heart froze. "It depends if the girl wants to kiss the hero as much as he wants to kiss her."
"She does." You watched as he lifted his mask to just below his nose, revealing a well-defined jaw and soft pink lips that made your stomach tighten. Quickly, you reached up to stop him from revealing himself any further, pressing yourself to your tiptoes and kissing him hard. He tilted your head back, one hand moving to the nape of your neck, tangling in your hair, the other moving back to clasp your waist.
You parted your lips, inviting him to deepen the kiss, to which he obliged, his teeth running over your bottom lip ever so gently. Your hands moved to his bared cheeks, his stubble rough against your palms.
When you finally broke apart, chests heaving, you saw stars. They twinkled in the sky above, the crescent moon bright above you. Spider-Man was readjusting his mask, but you saw the whisper of a smug smile on his lips before they disappeared from view.

Back inside your hotel room, you threw yourself face first onto the bed, the foam mattress momentarily swallowing you up before it adjusted to your weight.

You'd kissed Spider-Man.

You. Kissed. Spider-Man.

You could scream. You still felt the pressure of his lips against yours, the way his stubble had grazed your cheeks and the way his fingers had held the back of your neck. Just the thought of it was enough to make you weak in the knees.

Peter was swinging through the city as light as air. He imagined that even if he had no webs he'd still be able to float from building to building. There was something about your kiss, something about the way it had seared him, scorched his heart, that left him wanting more. Not only more kisses, but more of you. He wanted to know you, in the Biblical sense, sure, but also in every other way. He wanted to know your story, your hopes and dreams and fears and what made you laugh. He wanted to know what breakfast cereal you liked and what movies you watched when you were sad and what your most embarrassing moment was and when you felt proudest in your life.

But most of all, he wanted you to be safe. To stop stealing and putting yourself in danger. He knew you were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself—but he wanted to help take care of you.

So every night, for the next three nights, he made sure to pay extra attention to the neighbourhood your hotel was in while he did his patrols, keeping an ear tuned to the police radio he'd been given for any whisper of trouble in your vicinity.

And every night, for the next three nights, he met you on the rooftop of your hotel.

On the first night, you stood together under the stars, the kiss lingering unspoken between you. Spider-Man had his arm draped gently around your waist while you explained, with some shyness, about how many more stars were visible in your middle-of-nowhere town and how the freckles on the part of his face you'd seen reminded you of all those blazing, beautiful constellations.