Spider-Man Imagines I

Resolutions | Peter Parker [TH]

Your first time hosting a party had gone smoothly.

For the most part.

First of all, you didn't know many people, so aside from the entire decathlon team, the only other person there was Ned's third cousin. Also, you hadn't ordered enough pizza, and by eleven p.m., people were reduced to munching on Doritos and cheese puffs.

Secondly, Peter hadn't shown up.

You were disappointed. Not only had your boyfriend promised he would be there, reassured you of his solid plans, he hadn't even sent you a text or called you. You had no idea where he was or what was happening. It was Spider-Man business, obviously, but Spider-Man's life involved you, too. Not just Peter's.

Michelle was standing in front of your toaster, eyes on the red light cooking her two slices of bread. Her long fingers drummed against the countertop while she waited.

You stood next to her, fingers wrapped around a red cup of fizzy brown soda.

"This party is a disaster," you said.

She hummed. "No it isn't." The bread popped out of the toaster. She pulled it out, blew on it, then grabbed the jar of peanut butter and a butter knife.

You nodded. "It is. And I've eaten half the spicy Doritos. I think I might puke."

She took a big bite of toast and peanut butter and snorted. "Not on my boots, please." She lifted her leg and wiggled her foot. "They're brand new. Got 'em for Christmas."

You sighed. "They're cute."

"Mhm." She stared at you and chewed. "You're bummed Parker isn't here. I get it. But you don't need a boy to make the start of your year suck. Don't let this bring you down."

You forced a smile because she didn't understand. It wasn't that you were mad at him, because you weren't. You were worried and disappointed and both emotions had layered upon one another and caused a nice ball of anixety to roll around in your upset stomach.

"Thanks, Michelle," you said.

"I always got your back," she said, giving you a wink. She slinked out of the kitchen, toast in hand.

You sighed and fell back against the counter, setting your cup of soda aside. You checked your phone. No messages. 11:42.

"C'mon, Peter," you grumbled, "where are you at?"

You wandered back into the living room and smiled at Ned's cousin as she told a joke. Ned snorted so hard that Dr. Pepper came out of his nose. Flash poked fun at him. Michelle shot a smart line back.

You loved your friends, you realized as you laughed loudly with them.

At 11:55, everyone put on sunglasses shaped in 2018 and held streamers and champagne glasses full of sparkling grape juice. The living room was alive and buzzing as they eagerly waited for the ball on TV to drop.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement outside of the window.

You gasped and rushed to the door, knowing that it had to be Peter. You opened it quietly. Thankfully, everyone was distracted by the TV.

You shut the door behind you and hurried down the steps, running across the snow to see Peter slowly trudge through the white. His head was down, but when he looked up, he had a black eye.

"Oh my gosh, Peter!" you cried, reaching up onto your toes and cupping his face. You gave a gasp of pain. "You could have called, you jerk!"

"I'm sorry, babe," he muttered. He peeled your hands away and winced. "It was tough tonight. A lot of people are drunk. A lot."

"Jeez," you said. You took his hands. "I was worried sick about you all night."

He looked genuinely broken. "I am so sorry."

"It's fine," you said, shaking your head. "You missed, like, the entire party."

"I know. I am so, so sorry, babe-"

"You missed us going around and saying was our resolutions are for the next year," you continued. A smile tugged at your lips. "Flash's was that he could beat you at everything. I didn't say anything, but he's gonna be pretty sad when he realizes that he can't climb walls as well as my boyfriend can."

Peter grinned. "So, what was yours?"

You kept smiling. "Ugh, that I could stop eating so much." You rubbed your stomach. "If you had seen the amount of Doritos I ate..."

He laughed. "Oh, shut up. Eat however much you want." He leaned in and kissed your cheek. He pulled back slowly. "I'm going to tell you mine."

"Okay," you said. "Tell me."

"My New Years resolution is to be a better boyfriend for you," he said. A serious look crossed his face. His eyebrows wove together and his mouth set in a twisted, pained expression.

"Peter," you whispered sadly, cupping his cheek.

"I made you worry," he croaked. "A-And it feels like that is all I ever do."

"Peter," you said again. "You are already the best boyfriend I could have ever asked for. And my agreeing to date you, I'm agreeing to date Spider-Man. And if worrying comes with it, so be it. It's worth it, because-"

From inside the house, you could hear the eager, giddy chants -

"...Five!"

"...Four...!"

"...Three!"

"Two...!"

"One! Happy New Year!"

Your lips crashed against Peter's and you pressed cold fingers against his warm cheeks. He kissed you back, mouth clashing hard against yours, fingers digging into your back as he dipped you.

When you pulled back to breathe, he touched his nose to yours. He shut his one good eye and held you tight.

"Because," you worked to finish, "my boyfriend happens to give the best midnight kisses in the world. And that is what makes him the best."