THE RED WIDOW// peter parker x reader

TWENTY SIX

You remember how it was. Even if it was PG-13.
Even if it was for less than a moment, you still remembered how your mind stopped. How it went blank.
You needed it. You carved a little peace from the war that went in your mind.
From all the nasty memories that crushed your brain.

You moved like water, smooth and slow, a steady step towards him, ignoring his questioning eyes, the small tingle of fear.  watching his own hands now turning into fists, tongue moving to lick his dry lips, a small tick that seemed so big now

Your hands were cold.
Cold enough for Peter to feel it sinking to his chest through the fabric of his shirt.
But Peter? he looked warm. Inviting.

It's the first time ever, in whole short time he spent in here, that he saw you soft.
Actually soft.
You looked your age for the first time. You suddenly were just a 19 year old in his eyes.
Not a gang leader, not a thief,
Not a murderer.

This time, your lips were the one who brushed against his.
This time, you were the one who was tugging at the sides of his shirt, holding to pull him down to you lightly.

This time, you were the one kissing Peter.

Plush soft lips were brushing ever so slightly against Peter's mouth, hesitant and unsure.
He wasn't sure what you were waiting for, why it took you so much fucking time.

Maybe you waited for his approval, for his move.
Maybe you regretted or wanted to take back ever letting him see you like this because it wasn't you.
Maybe you thought his lips are so disgusting and dry and you'd never kiss someone like that.

But it wasn't you.

You weren't soft and hesitant. Weren't you though?

It felt like actual forever before you actually pressed your lips together, firm yet soft, gentle at first, as if you're testing the water, like it's the first time Peter's lips we're on yours.

It was different this time.
You were the one who kissed him.

It wasn't a rushed peck of dumb feelings attack. It wasn't a mistake Peter feared he'd pay for with his life.
At least peter didn't think so.

No it couldn't be that.

Because your lips locked around his top one, head titled to the side just slightly, to get a more comfortable access to his warm mouth, letting his lips wrap around yours with such delicacy and carefulness.
You could basically feel his surprise.
And if he wasn't moving his lips against yours, copying your moves, you would've mistaken to thinking you made a selfish mistake.

Your fingers tightened their hold on the soft fabric when you felt a big hand wrapping itself completely around you, holding the opposite side of your waist, barely grazing your, his, shirt at first, but squeezing your torso sooner than you thought.
As if he's forcing you to breathe.

And you can finally breathe.

It's a sharp inhale, taking in his scent.
You couldn't put your finger on the feeling it filled you with.
Maybe because you've never felt it before.

He smelt so comforting,
Maybe that's the word to describe it. Clean would be a close second.

A mix of soft honey and lavender shampoo you recognized from short seconds of Josh walking past you with fresh shower hair.
A some sort of axe body spray you remember getting peter while you were buying groceries.
Minty, from his toothpaste probably, he must've stayed up late because you could taste small hint of freshness on his curling tongue.
There was also something else, you don't know what it was, you'd die if you don't find out it is exactly but it was warm, sticky in your lungs and it made your brain fog up with thick mellow clouds.