Stark And The Spider

Drunk

(Peter's P.O.V.)

Two minutes.

I'm gone two minutes, and she manages to get drunk as hell.

I carry (Y/n) over to the elevator in her apartment building. We ride up to the 12th floor. Finally, with a ding, the elevator opens and with me fully supporting (Y/n)'s body weight, we stumble out into the hallway.

"Is this the right number?" I ask her as we come across the address she told me. The walk to 44th street was cold, but not tiring. I suppose my super strength comes in handy. I would've just web slung here, but even if (Y/n)'s drunk...I didn't want to risk it.

"Mm-hmm. Wow. You're really strong." She squeezed my bicep underneath my long sleeved shirt as my face turned pink.

"T-Thank you?" I say as I open up the door. Once we step inside, I close it and lock it.

Her apartment is small. Smaller than mine. It's hard to believe two people live here. From what I can see, there's a small hallway from the front door that on the left leads to a small kitchen, and an even smaller dining room. On the right it leads to a moderate living room, and two doors to which I can only assume lead to bedrooms, bathroom, or a combination of the two. The apartment is moderately furnished, with proper kitchen appliances (even if they do look decently old), a couch, a T.V., a small dining table, and dining chairs. Everything in beige, with the exception of the colorful rug in the living room.

In other words, it's not a place I thought (Y/n) would live in at all.

"You live here?" I ask. I figured she would live somewhere high-tech for her projects, or somewhere at least creative looking. Perhaps a castle for the queen she is.

"Yeppers." She drunkenly mumbles, "home sweet home." Her eyelids flutter open slightly, "not decorated yet though. We only moved in a few weeks ago or so."

"It's almost been a month. It's almost Halloween."

"Really?" She giggles, "wow. Time flies. Halloween will be fun. What are you going as? With that body you could make anything work."

My face goes from pink to deep red. "W-What?"

"Seriously, dude, how are you so strong? You've been carrying me around like I'm a feather. And I know I'm no feather."

"Y-You're fine." I say, my voice cracking.

"Did you just say you think I'm fine?"

If it's possible for a face to get any redder, mine just did. "N-No," I squeak, "t-that's not w-what I meant!"

"Aw. I would've taken it as a compliment y'know." She winks.

What the hell is happening right now.

She's just drunk. She's just drunk. She's just drunk.

Holy hell, why does she have to act this way when she's drunk?!

"Okay, I think it's time for you to go to bed." I announce, my voice cracking again.

"Wanna join me?"

Seriously, how is my head not exploding?

"(Y/n)!" I whisper yell. She laughs at me.

I sigh, "is you're dad home?"

"So you do wanna join me?"

"That's not what I meant!"

She laughs, "no, he's not." Then she winks.

She continues laughing as I bridal style carry her further into the apartment. Her feet brush along the wall of the narrow hallway. Trying one of the doors, I open it to find a small bedroom, with a bed in the center of the far wall. It had just enough room on either side to move around, but not too much. I slowly lean forward to rest her on the bed. Once she softly rests against the (also beige) covers, I begin to stand up...

...before being dragged back down by (Y/n).

She pulls me into bed and snuggles up to me, still clinging onto my arm

"(Y-Y/n)! W-What are you--"

"Shut up Peter, I have a headache." She still doesn't let go.

"(Y/n)," I whisper, "you gotta let go--"

"No." She instead moves closer, before one of her arms lazily collides with my stomach.

Above her closed eyelids, her eyebrows furrow as she hits the same spot again.

She sits up and opens her eyes, her eyebrows still furrowed.

"I-Is something wro--" I start to ask, before I'm interrupted by her lifting up my shirt.

"what the hell--"

"Peter Parker how the hell do you have a six pack?" She fully pulls of my shirt and I see her looming above me, my face probably a hotter red than Iron Man's suit.

"I, uh, I, umm..."

"You are seriously too hot. How do you not have a girlfriend?"

I choke on my spit, "what?"

What the fu--

"I mean you're smart, you're funny, you are the nicest person I've ever met, you're super trust worthy, not to mention you're insanely adorable, but now you're super strong, ripped, and hot as hell. So how do you not have a girlfriend yet?"

"I--, uh, I don't really...you think I'm hot?"

She giggles, "I mean, yeah, look at you." She goes back to my side, clenching my shirt, and grabs my arm again.

I lay there, staring at the ceiling at a loss for words, blushing brighter than the moon, as she gets comfortable. Then she pulls my arm so I'm basically wrapped around her, laying on my side.

I seriously have no clue what to say to that.

"C-Can I have my shirt back?" I ask softly.

"Nope."

"C-Can I get up now?"

"Nope." She tightens her grip on my arm.

"B-But, I gotta, I gotta lock the door--"

"You did when we came in."

"But--"

"Goodnight, Peter." She turns her head slightly to face me one last time, "sweet dreams."

What the hell just happened?

What just happened?!

(Y/n)...

She sure is something when she's drunk.

Did she....

Did she mean it?

She thinks...I'm hot?