Peter and you had been seeing each other for quite some time – longer than he had imagined you staying with him, anyway. Five months of his life had been dedicated to you, romantically. Peter would never tell you, but he had dedicated his life to you since your first day at Midtown High. You had met Ned in one of your classes and he had convinced you to join the decathlon on your first day. Peter had owed him ever since that day.
It was hard for Peter to ask you out – hell, it had taken him a year to even tell you that you were pretty. So, it didn't come to a surprise to him when he found himself too terrified to tell you how deeply he felt for you. He loved you – he loved the way you were smarter than him (you knew that, but you never made him feel insignificant), he loved that when you wanted to hold his hand you'd walk next to him and let your hands brush first (you'd start tapping his fingers with yours until eventually your hand engulfed his completely), he loved how when you found out he was Spider-Man you weren't mad that he kept it from you ("I get why you couldn't tell me – you have to promise me you're going to come back... you have to come back to me." "You're the only reason I'll always come back... a-and Aunt May, obviously."). He loved you – he knew he did. He had tried to tell you so many times. But, what he didn't know was that he had already told you he loved you – in so many different ways.
"You got me this?" Peter nodded at you. "You were in Berlin – fighting alongside the Avenger's... and you found time to get me something?" Peter couldn't fight the blush on his face even if he tried.
"I-It's not a big deal. I saw it in the window. I don't know, I just – it reminded me of you." You smiled, leaning in to peck him.
"I love it."
"Ugh, Pete," you whined, your eyes welling up with tears. "It's broken." You held up the charm bracelet that Peter had given you for your birthday. "I'm so sorry," a couple of tears had fallen and Peter was quick to reach up and brush them away.
"Hey, hey," he cooed, "it's just a bracelet, it's okay." You shook your head.
"I loved this gift – it's my favorite bracelet." Peter's heart beat a little faster.
"Come here," he whispered, "come on. Let me fix it." And he was relieved to see the smile on your face as you made your way to him.
"I'm glad you came tonight, Peter." You nudged him as you walked out of Liz's house together, side-by-side.
"I am, too." He smiled softly at you, stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets as you both fell into a comfortable silence. It was a cool night in New York and as Peter saw you wrap your arms around yourself he registered you had forgotten to bring a jacket. He automatically pulled his sweater over his head, straightening out his shirt. "Here," he handed you his sweater. You shook your head.
"Peter, no. It's fine, I'm fine." He gave you a pointed look.
"Take my jacket, it's cold outside." You reluctantly took the jacket and pulled it over yourself, feeling his scent overwhelm you and a smile ghosting on your face.
"Thank you, Peter." You linked your arms together and pushed yourself up to kiss his cheek. Smiling when he turned red and mumbled a small 'anytime'.
"I'm sorry that I'm ruining our date night, Peter." Peter shook his head until he remembered you couldn't see him over the phone.
"You're not ruining anything, babe," he said, packing up his backpack with the necessities May told him he'd need. "You need to focus on that sore throat." There was silence. "Babe?"
"Huh?" He chuckled, walking out of his front door. "I'm sorry, Petey. I dozed off."
"It's fine, I'll see you later. Okay?" You mumbled an incoherent response before Peter decided to end the call. He found himself outside of your home fifteen minutes later. He knocked and your mom let him in, letting him quietly use your kitchen to warm up the tea he had brought for you. He then quietly walked to your room, opening your door to see you sleeping. He almost didn't wake you up, but knew your tea would be cold. "(Y/N)? Babe?" You stirred awake, feeling alert and sitting up when you saw Peter on your bed.
"Peter! What are you doing here? You're going to get sick!" He shushed your hoarse voice, picking up the cup and handing it to you.
"Here," you grabbed the cup, looking at its contents, "drink this. You'll feel better." You looked at his dough eyes and opened your mouth to say something, until deciding to just keep quiet and drink the tea, a soft smile on your face.
"Oh, my god." Peter turned around from his seat at his desk, seeing your distraught expression as your eyes grazed over the test you both had received from Calculus.
"What's wrong?" You bit your lip to stop it from quivering.
"I failed," you whispered. You had studied with Michelle and Betty for two weeks straight. You had thought you were doing so well – even Michelle had thought so. How could you have failed?
"Hey," you looked up at Peter, "it's just one test. You'll get 'em next time." You smiled at the use of his words – it was a phrase you'd use on him whenever he didn't pass a quiz or test he didn't study for due to his after-school activities.
"I guess," you sighed, your smile fading. Peter stood up, walking over to his dresser. He opened the top drawer and shuffled through it, picking up a CD case. He sighed, counting to three before turning around to sit next to you on the bed.
"Here," you took the CD from his hands.
PETER'S HAPPY MIX
You looked up at him, seeing him shrug. "You might like this," he stated. "It makes me feel better when I feel like crap." You reached over and hugged him, mumbling about a million thank you's.
Now here Peter sits, next to you on his couch, watching a movie of your choice. It was one that you had seen at least a hundred times, but he didn't mind. If you loved it, so did he. And, god, did you love it. He watched your profile, seeing your lips move as you recited the character's lines – every character's lines. Your hands were moving in tune with them, too. And as he looked at you he couldn't help himself. He didn't plan it coming out like this, but it just happened. He just – "I love you." Your hands stopped and so did your lips. You turned to look at him quickly.
"What?" Peter nodded slowly, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie.
"I love you." He repeated. "I love you, and I have for awhile. I don't know when liking you stopped and loving you started – it all kind of just blends together but – yeah. I love you." You blinked a few times, registering how your shy and reserved boyfriend, Peter Parker, got the nerve to tell you he loved you before you did. You shook your head at the thought. Peter Parker was braver than you – who knew?
"I love you, Peter." You finally said, the look on his face telling you your silence was scaring him.
"You do?" He asked, too ecstatic, but he didn't care. You nodded, setting the bowl of popcorn that was on your lap on top of the coffee table. You sat up and crawled closer to him, leaning over him slightly.
"I love you so much, Peter Parker." You leaned all the way down, pressing your lips against Peter and feeling Peter wait not even a second before matching your pace.
"I love you, too," he mumbled against your lips, but not stopping your kiss.
Even though Peter Parker had told you he loved you more than once, he felt a weight lift off of his chest after hearing it come out clear as day from the both of you.
YOU ARE READING
Imagines By Hufflepuffholland
Historia CortaStories written by hufflepuffholland on tumblr ^Tom Holland ^Peter Parker ^Harrison Osterfield ^Zendaya ^MJ ^Sam Holland ^Harry Holland ^Laura Harrier ^+more