••Holland/Osterfield imagines••

Drug//Peter

There she was. His love. His light. Everything about her made him weak. Her hair. Her eyes. Her skin. Everything. All he could think about was that one moment they were against each other. Caressing each other. 'A mistake' she called it. 'A purpose' he called it. Peter was blinded. Blinded by the consuming love he had for her. She was his drug and a damn dangerous one at that.

'Just friends' she would say to him as he studied every detail on her face, completely oblivious to what she was saying. Nothing could keep him from loving her.

Of course Peter would never touch her without her consent. He was obsessed, but not in an overly creepy way. He was just a 15 year old boy, utterly in love.

She noticed the way he'd look at her, not thinking much of it for they had been friends for so long, but sometimes she'd think back to the night. The night he changed. The night everything changed.

She said it was a mistake, but she knew it wasn't. She'd fallen for Peter. Not wanting to admit it, not even to herself, she'd tell him and herself they were just friends. They both knew that was a lie.

Peter would awaken on particular nights, sweat coating his features. He had dreams that she didn't love him back and left him for someone better. Someone that wasn't him.

He. She. The drugs they desired most. Each other. Dangerous and addictive all the same. They couldn't help themselves. Ever since that one taste, the we're both left craving for more. Never acting upon it of course, until one early afternoon. Peter was caught stumbling into her bedroom. The light shone through her windows, hitting his face at the perfect angle. 'I love you' he said. 'I know' she said. They stood across from one another. Staring. Searching. Finding love in the other's eyes. She didn't have to say it. Peter knew.

Lunging towards each other they were engulfed. The kiss being passionate yet soft with arms around the other. Caressing each other like they had so many nights before. Their bodies were closer than ever, but they still grasped onto each other like they were afraid the other would slip away.

They were addicted to each other. Never receiving enough. Like most people describe drugs, it felt so damn good, but they both knew of the dangers.

Drugs. They were both drugs to each other and they both fucking knew they were so damn addicted.

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A/N: Don't mind this shit. Just a scrap I wrote cuz I'm feelin' weird and I want a Peter Parker.-Sadie