Peter Parker One Shots

Unrefined

She would be lying if she said that she was completely sober.

Maybe she'd had a glass of wine. Or two. Possibly three. Maybe she was a bit of a lightweight, too. And maybe she was eighteen and legally unable to drink.

But here she was, buzzed up to the point where she let out a string of giggles at just about everything she saw. In her defense though, seeing a poodle clad in a frilly pink sweater peeing on a fire hydrant painted to resemble Pikachu was pretty damn hilarious.

Peter had thought so too. Even though he wasn't quite as tipsy as she was, his eyes had still remained bright and ardent throughout the night whenever he looked at her, and it made Elle feel like the most important girl in the world.

He was struggling to fit the key into the lock like he always did and it made her laugh more than usual tonight. Pink rose in a glorious shade on his cheeks before he whined at her to be quiet, lips pouted out playfully and absolutely kissable.

So she did just that. Trapping him up against the wood of the door and kissing him like she hadn't been able to in that restaurant with all the judging eyes and voices that carried like wildfire with an affinity of burning her skin. The burgundy dress shirt she'd made him buy just for the occasion complimented his sun-kissed skin with perfect precision and the whiskey of his eyes had been spilling into her veins since he'd picked her up with that lopsided smile.

Most of all she just wanted to savor it. Him, here, with her. Three years of continuing to gaze at her like she was the entire universe wrapped in a bright red bow, bringing her Twizzlers when it was that time of the month for her because he knew they were her favorite, going to the fair with Ned every single time it came to town because no matter how old they were it was always fun to spend all their money on arcade games and attempting to win gigantic teddy bears.

Three years of him loving her and her loving him right back.

And woah, kissing him never got old. It felt like summertime; the Sun burning into your skin, red cheeks and sunscreen on your nose, that laughter in spending time with your friends. Elle had never been a fan of the season. Swimsuits wrecked her confidence, the beach littered sand everywhere on her and no matter how much lotion was lathered on her body she always burned.

But Peter, with his warm lips and love of the sunshine and freckles that multiplied and darkened in those hot months, had changed her mind.

She broke away from him, his hands grabbing at her waist to pull her closer, eyes closed and form collapsed against the door. No matter how times they had kissed, she'd never gotten used to her effect on him. From the first date where she'd timidly pressed her lips to his cheek, to now, it was like he lost all function and she lived for it.

"Peter," she whispers, lips ghosting over his. He responds through heavy lids and a hum, lashes fluttering. "Maybe we shouldn't do this in the hallway."

Peter opens his eyes fully and blinks at her through hazy brown. "Oh," he says, and she giggles. "I should, um, unlock the door."

"That's a good idea."

They creep into his apartment, careful not to wake May. Usually, it wouldn't be a problem and they'd gladly give the night's details away, but the second the alcohol lingering on Elle's breath reached her nose they'd be done for.

She slips off her heels and throws them into a corner already filled with a small pile of dirty clothes when they slide into Peter's room, sighing at the comfort of the cold hardwood against her feet. Oh, the torture you had to deal with to look sexy.

Elle chuckles at herself just as arms slink around her torso. It's automatic; settling against Peter's chest, welcoming the natural height difference between the two of them, breathing him in. She takes a moment to bask in the warmth and the feeling of home surrounding the both of them, and God she loves him.