darling [peter parker]

bet!

It took less than ten seconds for Wendy to slam Flash's hand to the table.

The crowd lost their minds. Flash's face fell. Clearly, he hadn't expected such a quick loss. Wendy smirked. She'd always been strong thanks to a lifetime of gymnastics. One of her most vivid memories from her childhood was the time she lifted the couch so her mom could vacuum underneath and her dad screaming because he was sitting on the couch.

Flash scowled, standing up and shaking his hand out. "Damn, Wendy, you're freakishly strong." The football team was howling with laughter.

David Olivera shook his head and wiped tears from his eyes. "Come on, dude, you got beat by a cheerleader!"

"What, you think you could do any better?" Flash snapped; He shoved David, who barely budged. Wendy might've giggled if she wasn't so irritated. What, just because she was a cheerleader that meant she had to be some weak, docile thing? She was Wendy fucking Carter. She was related to the founder of SHIELD and a CIA agent who'd taken down more bad guys than the public was allowed to know about. She was related to a genius doctor who was told she would flunk out of med school and instead became valedictorian. She was a talented gymnast and dancer with an IQ of 182. Not to mention, she'd recently been enrolled in the best self-defense classes New York had to offer.

Obviously, not all cheerleaders were Wendy. No one was like Wendy. But being a cheerleader required more strength than being a football player. Cheerleaders literally lift each other into the air and, depending on your position in the pyramid, can support up to 6 other cheerleaders. That's strength, bitch.

Wendy tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. "Yeah. Do you think you can do any better?"

"Is that a challenge, Carter?" David teased. He stole Flash's seat and rested his elbow on the table. "Say the word and I'll go easy on you." She leaned in. She could smell the alcohol on his breath and it curdled her stomach. She didn't exactly want to make him angry, but she couldn't back down now.

Wendy forced a smirk. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing." The crowd 'ooh'ed. She plopped her elbow on the table, grabbed David's hand, and, as soon as Lydia finished the countdown, overpowered him and smashed his hand down to the table.

Soon enough, nearly every boy at the party had formed a line to challenge her, all sure they could be the one to end her winning streak. And they were all wrong. She's stronger than all of them. The line thinned as the night waned on. Eventually, she had defeated every boy...except Ned Leeds and Peter Parker. Ned declined a match, citing that he could barely lift a jar of mayo.

"What about you Parker?" she asked, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest. "You wanna wrestle?"

"I'm good," he said. He looked uncomfortable. The thought of him being uncomfortable shot a thrill through her.

"Someone's chicken," Flash jeered. "Come on, Penis Parker, you're not even gonna try?" Wendy's smile dropped. She thought she'd made it pretty clear to Flash that Peter was off limits. Only she could pick on him.

Peter shifted in his spot. "Why bother? I'm just gonna lose."

Flash rolled his eyes and turned to the crowd. "When I say Penis, you say Parker! Peni-"

"Shut the fuck up Flash," Wendy snapped, eyes narrowed. "Just because you lack a certain appendage doesn't mean you have to point out Peter's." Everyone at the party looked torn between laughter and intrigue. She could guess what they were thinking. Why was Wendy defending Peter?

Honestly, she wasn't sure why.

Peter sighed and sat down across from Wendy. "Okay, fine. Let's wrestle." They got into position. Wendy wrapped her hand around Peter and smiled condescendingly. Peter shot her a little wink. Her eyebrows shot into her hairline. Okay, weird.

Within .75 seconds of the countdown ending, Peter's hand was smashed to the table. Wendy frowned. That was way too easy. Was he holding back? That piece of shit was holding back, wasn't he? That was the probably the rudest thing he'd ever done. She didn't need to be coddled.

Peter stood from his seat and tried to leave, but before he could, she'd snatched his wrist. His eyes widened. The crowd went silent in confusion. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Angie shaking her head disappointedly. 

Peter furrowed his brow. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Put some goddamn effort into it, you little shit," she growled.

Peter sighed. "Wendy, you won. Let it go."

"I don't need to be coddled!" she exclaimed. "Now are you gonna do this for real, and am I gonna have to raise the stakes?" That piqued his interest. He exchanged looks with Ned before reclaiming his seat. Wendy grinned. He was just as easily baited as her.

"What are the stakes?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

She smiled. "It's fairly simple. I win, I get what I want. You win, you get what you want."

"And what do you want?"

She leaned forward and stared into his eyes with as piercing a gaze as she could manage. "I want to know Spider-Man's secret identity." His jaw dropped and she almost giggled. Man, she loved fucking with him. She would never get sick of the look on his face when she surprised him.

"What do I get if I win?" he questioned, suddenly avoiding looking at her.

"Whatever you want, Parker."

Something passed over Peter's face like he'd had a revelation. He smirked at her. "I want a kiss. From you." Her heart dropped into her stomach. All she could think about was what Jess said about her being the love of being Peter's life.

Wendy shrugged. "Whatever. You're not gonna win anyway." They got into position. Lydia began her countdown and Wendy briefly thought about yanking her hand away and just leaving the party. Her heart was hammering furiously in her chest.

Lydia called out, "Go!" and it was on.

*

y'all ain't ready for what's up ahead