T. Holland/P.Parker/ Spider-man imagines

Peter/ momentz

Your cold feet were pressed against Peter's warm legs. You were curled in a ball, hoarding most of the comforters. Your hair was a mess, some stuck to your face, and a little bit of hair was stuck in the corner of your mouth. Your cold hands weakly held onto Peter's hand.

Peter stirred awake. Rubbing his eye with his free hand. He turned his head to look at you. He noticed every little detail about you. From the way you annoyed him with your cold toes, fingers, and stealing of blankets. To how the sun, that casted through the window, shone gently on your crazy bed head.

He smiled to himself admitting that it was over. There was nothing he could do to get any part of the blanket back. Without you either smacking him for waking you, or smacking him before cuddling into his side.

He enjoyed the blissful and quiet moment before carefully stepping out of bed. His feet hit the cold hardwood floor and he knew immediately what you would want the second you woke.

Coffee.

He made his way out of your messy bedroom without making a sound. Thanks to his spider senses. He fixated a pot of coffee. Dragging his feet slowly to the couch where his clean shirt was on top of the clean pile of laundry. He pulled it over his head trying to remember how he'd lost it in the first place.

Poke. Poke. You poked his hand. "Peter?" Your quiet voice just barely made it to your own ears.  Poke. You poked his side. "Babe?" You tried to get his attention again.  Poke. You poked his face.  "Spiderling?"

"Hmm?" He groaned as a response. Not making any effort to wake up.

"I'm cold. Can you get the electric blanket?" He didn't move. At all. You thought that he for sure had fallen back asleep. You lifted the hem of his shirt. Placing your ice cold hand on his abs.

"God's sakes!" He yelped, obviously shocked. He sat up quickly. Pulling off his shirt and tossing it on your head.

"Gee thanks." You muttered, pulling on his long sleeved shirt over your other two shirts. Smack. "Ow!" Smack. "Peter!"

His warm hand touched the side of your face. Eventually finding your lips. "I was just trying to find your face so I could kiss you."

"I don't want your kisses. I want your warmth."

Peter sat on the window seat. Waiting for the sun to come up. The coffee pot hissed. Signaling that it had completed its assignment. He got up, taking a bowl from the cupboard and the box of cereal from the counter. Then added milk. Then coffee into his bowl.

A trick he learned from Clint. Most would argue that it was pointless. Clint would argue that it was quicker than filling up the bowl with cereal then with milk and then filling up a mug with coffee then milk. Peter didn't really care, he was just to tired to get another thing out.

"Peter?" Your voice called out. You wondered aloud if he was still at home. Not sure what to expect, if he was here, or if he went to work, or out being a hero again.

"Yeah, honey?" He questioned back from his spot. You walked out, the blanket as your cape. He smiled as you fought to get the hair out of your face. You intended to sit next to him. But. Instead. He pulled you on his lap so he could see you and the sunrise at the same time.

"Did you seriously pour coffee into your cereal?" You questioned tiredly, leaning into him.

"Mhm." He pressed a kiss to your shoulder. Knowing full well that you didn't want his coffee breath in your face right as you woke up. You attempted to wrap the blanket across both of you. You slouched enough so that his chin could rest on top of your head.

The two of you watched as the sun disappeared into the snow cloud sky. It was great. Completely silent, apart from your breathing and the cars outside. You sat up straight, looking him in the eye.

"Peter." You said seriously, his eyes widened with anxiety. "Can I have your kiss now?"

"I don't know." You knew what was coming.  "Can you? You said you didn't want my kisses last night."

"You're so annoying." You rolled your eyes.

"You're the one that froze me with your ice hands."

"Are you still upset about that?"

"Well of course. I thought maybe-" you cut off his playful banter by kissing him. He pulled away. Then pressed a kiss to your temple quickly. "I really love you."

"Of course you do." He rolled his eyes. Placing both his hands on the sides of your face. Before peppering your face with light kisses. You giggled, trying to push him away. "Okay. Okay. I love you too you dork!" It was quite again. But you could still feel his eyes on you.

"What are you staring at?" You asked.

"My wife. If that's allowed." Oh this boy had so much sass.