twenty. somewhere between "we're doomed" and "you're mine, unfortunately"

259 16 7
                                        

WARNING: slightly sexual themes (make out session)

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

WARNING: slightly sexual themes (make out session)

AS UNBELIEVABLE AS IT MAY HAVE SOUNDED LIKE, Nina had managed to slip in a quick twenty (thirty, maybe?) power nap on their way to the Netherlands. It wasn't like the thought of Peter left her mind - because it certainly hasn't, not for a minute - but Nina was only human, after all - and even after Happy had tended to most of her injuries and she did feel a little better now, the girl was still exhausted.

The moment Happy wakes her up and informs her that they are five minutes away from landing, however, Nina bolts upright - the anxiety and nervousness eating her up once again.

The second the Quinjet lands, Nina doesn't wait. Not for the ramp. Not for Happy. Not for the very real possibility that she could still barely stand without her body threatening to give out.

The second the opening is wide enough, she's gone.

Her boots hit the grass harder than intended, knees nearly buckling beneath her because apparently getting strangled, thrown around, muted, emotionally wrecked, and flown across goddamn Europe does, in fact, take a toll on the human body.

Who knew.

But Nina barely notices. Because there, standing in the middle of a ridiculously picturesque Dutch tulip field like some exhausted, bruised-up fever dream, was Peter.

Alive and well. On second thoughts, maybe not well.

Holy shit. For one suspended, terrifying second, Nina just stares at the boy. Because her brain, fucked up and overloaded as it is, hasn't fully caught up yet.

He's filthy. Bleeding. Looks like absolute hell. But he's standing.

He's standing.

And then Peter turns.

To Nina, that's all that it takes. Rational thought? Gone. Whatever shreds of composure Nina had left after today? Gone.

She wants to call him. She wants to call him and give him a huge fucking hug - seeing him like this, battered and bruised, makes her heart clench just a little bit.

"Peter—" she tries, except no sound comes out, because of course it fucking doesn't.

But it doesn't matter. Because Peter sees her - like his senses knew she was there. Of course they did. It always does.

His entire face changes. "...Nina?"

It's almost unbelievable. Like he thought maybe she'd been dead. Which - excuse me - rude, as if she'd let herself die that easily - honestly, but fair.

And then they're both moving.

Nina gets to him first, which is shocking considering she feels like she got hit by a train, but adrenaline is one hell of a drug. She practically crashes into him, grabbing onto him like she needs physical proof that he's actually here—that he's real, solid, breathing.

LIAR, LIAR. Peter ParkerWhere stories live. Discover now