Veins and Wires // Peter Parker

Cute Shit Cause I'm Bored and Lonely

Sadness isn't fun to write guys, I need a break from it 😫 Also I'm having massive writers block but that's not important—
Now here's a cute one-shot

Three months earlier

"Peter, give it back," I whined as I jumped to grab my work contract I was working on from Peters hand that was raised above his head. Whenever my hand got remotely close he would just yank it farther away.

"No, you've been working for days nonstop and I love you, you know that, but you look like death," he denied and I glared at him making him gulp but not waver.

"Wait a minute, what am I doing? I can fly," I realized and zipped by him, snatching the paper out of his hand and landed a few feet away from.

"Ha! Suck it!" I celebrated but was cut short by him shooting a web at the paper and yanked it out of my hand. "Dude!"

"I'm sorry but this is for your own good," he declared confidently until I stepped toward him. "Please don't hurt me."

"Peter..." I groaned loudly, giving him a look.

"Hailey..." Peter mimicked and I glared at him before sighing in defeat and flopping onto my couch.

"So not supportive!" I yelled into my cushions making my voice muffled.

"You are absolutely right, I am not not supportive to you killing yourself," Peter agreed sarcastically.

"I'm not—that's... shut up!" I shot back making him chuckle and I felt the cushions dip a few feet away from my head. "If I want to kill myself, I will do so if I damn well please! And for your information I—ugh I'm too tired to yell," I gave up, giving in to the overwhelming exhaustion.

"Aw..." he cooed brushing a lock of hair away from my cheek. "I told you," he mocked softly and I lifted my head up to glare at him.

"I hate you."

"Hailey, you seem to exhibit signs of debilitation and burn out. Would you like to engage sleep mode?" Friday spoke up making Peter snicker beside me.

"Not cool, Friday. Not cool," I whispered at the small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.

"Sorry," she said, though not sounding very sorry and I shoved my face farther into the couch.

"Aw...c'mere," Peter laughed and lifted me up from the couch, wrapping his arms around him.

"No...I hate you..." I protested lazily, going limp in his arms before begrudgingly leaning into the hug. "I'm so tired," I cried dryly.

"I know, I know," he comforted, rubbing my back softly. I leaned my head on his shoulder with a frown.

"You know what'd make me feel better?" I murmured into the crook of his neck.

"A Star Wars marathon?" Peter teased with a smirk and I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I was going to say a make out session."

"You drive a hard bargain. But alright."

"Red flags. Everywhere," Peter observed as we watched Heathers on the couch with a bag of microwaveable popcorn in his lap. He had a hand designated to shoveling popcorn into his mouth and the other loosely slung around my neck.

"Right? Like girl, run," I agreed with a chuckle, leaning my head on his chest comfortably.

"We should watch Mean Girls next. You know, the ripoff Heathers," he offered making me look up at him.

"This is why I love you," I declared and kissed him, completely forgetting the movie.

"Mmm... you know," he hummed in between kisses. "It's a little," he paused kissing me again. "Sad that that's," he pecked me on the lips again making me chuckle. "The only. Reason. You love. Me," he finished, kissing me every break.