𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Winter Kisses

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → fluff, whining Peter

Summary → Your lips are really chapped because of winter and you won't let Peter kiss you.

         ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

The chill of winter bit through the air, and your lips felt like sandpaper. Every stretch of a smile or accidental lick only made it worse. The tiny jar of Vaseline had become your lifeline, the glossy sheen on your lips a constant barrier between you and further agony.

“C’mon, babe,” Peter whined, his brown eyes filled with exaggerated hurt. “Just one kiss. I won’t even touch the lips, I swear. Chin? Nose? Forehead? I’m desperate here!”

You smirked at his antics, carefully applying another layer of Vaseline as if to emphasize your point. “No, Peter. My lips feel like they’ve been through a battle. Do you want me to bleed?”

“I mean…” he started, grinning mischievously, “a little blood never scared me. I’ve fought aliens, babe.”

You shot him a look that could freeze him more than the New York winter outside. “Not. Happening.”

Peter groaned dramatically, flopping back onto the couch like he’d been mortally wounded. “But I miss you,” he whined, arms stretched out in your direction like some desperate damsel. “Winter is supposed to be romantic! Cute dates, snowball fights, hot cocoa, kisses. You’re depriving me!”

You raised a brow, trying to stifle a laugh. “I didn’t realize you were this needy.”

“I’m not needy!” He shot back, sitting up indignantly before his expression softened. “I’m just… in love. And I’m being cruelly neglected.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips — though the motion stung enough to make you wince.

Peter’s face immediately softened. “Oh, bug, I’m sorry,” he murmured, crawling closer and cupping your cheek gently. “Your poor lips. What kind of boyfriend am I to whine when you’re in pain?”

“A dramatic one,” you teased.

“Okay, fair.” He grinned, brushing his thumb along your cheek, careful not to touch your lips. “But I’ll wait. No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait until your lips are back to their soft, kissable glory.”

“You’re so dramatic,” you said, laughing softly.

“And yet you love me,” he quipped, leaning in to press the gentlest kiss to your forehead.

You smiled, wincing slightly but feeling warm inside despite the cold. “Yeah, I do.”

“Good,” Peter said with a smirk. “Because as soon as you’re healed, you owe me all the kisses.”

“Sure,” you said, laughing as he wrapped you in his arms, pulling you into the warmth of his embrace.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗