𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐞- 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫

16.

Everyday was a struggle now that Steve was helping my mother pack box after box. My mother told me it was better if we moved. Move far away from Queens and never come back. I could make a new life there and find a new college to go to. She wanted to go to California with many mountains and great colleges.

She wanted to start fresh with Steve. I told her I didn't have to follow her. I was 18 therefore I could stay here and do college here, yet she insisted I come with because it was better for me. She would cut ties if not and I didn't want that. Not with her.

She went so far to get me out that she researched schools and had me apply to them over the summer. I got accepted to many, all for the same reason I got accepted to the college here in New York. I told her no. It wasn't her choice just like nothing else in my life was her choice.

I stood outside of Peter's house for what felt like forever. I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to bug him with anything else. In the end, I did knock and he answered the door. He let me in and led me to his room.

"My mom and Steve plan on moving to California." I curled up on his bed, overlooking his messed up timeline he created for his parents. "They want me to come with them."

"What did you say?" He sat down on the end of his bed nervously.

"No." I said. "I already decided on college. Plus, they've got more crime here in New York I could investigate with you."

He chuckled and nodded his head. "Partners in crime."

I sat up and faced him. "Do you ever get tired of it? Fighting bad guys and risking your life everyday?"

He shook his head. "No. It gives me an adrenaline rush."

"Can we go out again? When it's not raining."

He's been so busy that we never had time to ourselves. One minute I was getting chased by security, the next he was chasing bad guys.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to mine. "How about a movie night?"

He wouldn't stop looking at my lips. Knowing where this was about to go, I agreed and kissed him once more. He crawled over me, keeping the kiss heavy and deep, his tongue sneaking it's way in.

His hand crawled up my neck, brushing his fingers across my skin. He kept them in my hair, making it messy and tangled. It was a nervous thrill that I've been waiting to feel for so long. There was no rush, no pressure, no forced longing straight away. He was patient for months, waiting for me to say yes.

I helped him kick off my pants as I fumbled for his. He slid my shirt off and his next, wasting no time to attack my lips again as if they might disappear on me within seconds.

There was breathless hunger around us as he trailed kisses down my neck, to my stomach, and in between my legs. I gave him a nod of my consent and a moment later I was arching my back at the sudden feeling of pleasure running through my body.

But right as the heat in the pit of my stomach grew, he was back to my lips and breathing heavily into my ear. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"Yes."

My legs were wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. My breath hitched at the first thrust. He pulls back, checking if I was okay. I nod.

His head falls in the crook of my neck, planting kisses along it between moans and gasps of pleasure. The pressure and pain I felt fades to pleasure also. I moaned loudly, whispering his name over and over, begging him to keep going.

My hands tangled in his hair, his one hand placed firmly on my waist to keep himself steady at first until he became sloppier. We were a mess of tangled limbs until we gave way and separated onto the bed beside each other.

For a minute we didn't speak. We caught our breaths and stared at the ceiling. My worries and concerns fading to nothing when I faced him once more. My body was cold again, missing his touch that was just there moments ago.

He brushed my messy hair out of my face, placing it behind my ear. He kissed my forehead gently before standing up and pulling his boxers back on. For a moment I thought he was about to leave to tell me he needed to go take care of something.

He stretched, crawling back under the blankets again, deciding against whatever he was going to do. He was silent, searching through his brain for something to say. "Hey, M.J.?"

"Hm?" I hummed.

"Whatever happens. Whatever goes on, I love you." He whispered, caressing my cheek.

"I love you too, Peter."