PARKER ⌁ peter p. imagines

spinning the bottle

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Parties aren't your cup of tea. Sure, they can be fun with friends, and when no one ends up wasted in the duck pond in your backyard, but usually?
No, parties weren't your thing.

So why you decided to go to one was beyond your knowledge.

It was partly because it was Liz's party and she forced you to, and partly because you'd hoped to see Peter there. Yeah, you had a crush on Peter Parker.

Would you ever tell your friends? No.
Would you ever tell him? No.

But ironically, your best friend thought it'd be a good idea to start up a game of spin the bottle.
Spin the Bottle.

"Are we in the third grade?" You asked Liz, taking a sip of Dr. Pepper. You skipped the chance to have a beer because you knew Liz would get wasted at some point tonight, and you were her designated caretaker every time her parents were out of town. Good times.

"Funny." She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"But who knows," She leaned in. "You might get laid tonight." She sang.

"Maybe." You laughed, but you knew that would never happen.

Liz started rounding up people to play, and when there were enough to start, she dragged you along to sit on the floor. Many of the party-goers simply ignored the circle of people on the ground, walking by either drunkenly or half way there.

And then the front door opened.

In walked Peter Parker, looking as perfect as he always does. You noticed that his flannel was buttoned to the top, which made you giggle inside. He was such a dork.

It only took Liz three seconds until she started waving, your eyes widening when you saw who she was greeting. "Peter, Ned!" She called them over, inviting them to play an enticing game of spin the bottle. "Hey guys! Sit wherever."

And just your luck, Peter sat right next to you.

Though, it wasn't luck.

He looked over at you, offering you a cute little smile that made your heart patter. "Alright!" Liz clapped her hands, already excited. "You guys know how this works. You spin the bottle, whoever it points to is the person you have to kiss. Regardless of gender." She cocked an eyebrow, looking around the circle. Some guys looked alarmed, and one even stood up and left.

"Pussy." You mumbled. You really didn't mean for anyone to hear you, but it was audible enough that Peter heard it and snorted in amusement.

"First up, y/n!"

You let out a nervous sigh, not wanting it to land on anybody too douchey. Good thing Flash was DJing.

The empty bottle started to slow down, your anxiety already acting up. You secretly hoped it'd be Liz, because you two were comfortable enough with each other that it wouldn't be a big deal. But, with your fate, nothing goes the way you want it to.

And when it took its final spin, you followed the opening of the bottle straight back to, take a wild guess.

Peter fucking Parker.

Of course.

The boy looked at you with wide eyes, and you initially thought it was because he was repulsed by you. But Peter had noticed you at school and in the halls. He noticed that you and Liz were attached to the hip, and that you didn't make friends easily, but always gave someone a chance.
He was intrigued by you.

Peter turned his body to face yours,
not backing out. He gradually leaned in closer to you, and you noticed how his hair curled up at the ends and how badly you wanted to run your hand through them. Your faces were so close now that you could see his freckles. They were faint, but there.
And God were they cute.

"W-we don't have to." You whispered, embarrassed to be rejected by him.

Peter smiled, his eyes flickering down to your lips.
"I've been wanting to do this since the day you walked into Calculus."

And then it happened. The thing you've been waiting to happen, the thing you thought would never happen, did. He kissed you. And it was better than you could have ever imagined.

His hands were comfortingly warm, positioned on either side of your face and leaving goosebumps every time he moved a finger. You wanted it to last forever. His smell, his touch, his lips.
God his lips.

Peter Parker was intoxicating.