she don’t belive in shooting stars, but she believe in shoes and cars.

peter loved giving you stuff. either clothes, flowers, shoes, chocolate. anything. it was his love language and you loved it. you basked in all the gifts he got you. you returning the favour with kisses and hugs.

one day, as peter slipped through the window. wearing his spider suit just without the mask, he’d obviously gotten fucked up in his last fight that you saw on the TV. his face bloody and bruised but you also see him holding something behind his back.

“for you.” he says as he hands you a fresh bouquet of roses and smiles.