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'reflection, reflection'

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Depending on the matter of the subject, things couldn't possibly get any worse for Peter from here. After hearing your door click open, the handle folding downwards and the frame being pushed open he had never moved so fast, grabbing the hem of his suit and diving more so headfirst into your closet. How could he have been such an idiot? Thinking it was a good idea to not only go snooping but masturbate in your room? He honestly thought his standards would have been better, apparently such was not the case.

On the other end of the stick, you were half asleep, passing a yawn as you stumbled into your apartment unphased by the mess; puddles and leaves too tired to even acknowledge the fact that your french doors were now closed and there was no longer a tree keeping them open. Your mind only really wanted one thing right now, and that was to go to bed.

Your apartment was pitch black, fumbling around the dark and you grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it off with a sigh. Sleeping on Peter's couch was comfortable, but waking up with a stiff neck was not. It took you a while to finally undress, or even notice that your bedroom light was on, not even bothering to find some PJ's as you crawled into bed completely naked. After lifting the sheets you saw the straightness of your fresh bed, pulling the cover backwards and getting ready to slip beneath it when the sound of something falling caught your attention.

You were alone in a dark apartment, and although there weren't many things that scared you, the noise at least made you jump in your skin. Your adrenaline was rushing, heart pounding as you peeked down over the side of your bed. You couldn't see much in the dark, but after squinting you noticed the small square sheets of paper on your carpet, sprawled over across the floor. Swallowing, you pushed your hair back over your shoulder and reached down, picking one up.

"What the fuck?" you mumbled, placing it down and scooting over to your bedside table. You pulled the drawer open and just as you had thought, your polaroids were gone. At least, not completely, there were still a few at the bottom of the drawer and the rest were on your bedroom floor but the question was, how the fuck did they get there?

Then came the sudden uncomfortable feeling that maybe you weren't as alone as you thought you were. You stumbled around, now almost wide awake with adrenaline, quickly dressing yourself and finally realised your light was already on. The room was almost as you left it aside from the pictures that were now publicly spread across your bedroom. There were no open windows, and your door had been closed so whoever it was had either left or was still somewhere in the apartment with you and the tension in the air was thick.

Sliding down the wall you reached with blind fingers beneath your wardrobe, pulling out a metal baseball bat that had been signed by your late classmates before you moved on to college in your last year of high school. For a while, it was a mascot that sat anywhere in your apartment but in situations like these, it made a pretty good weapon. While on the ground you lay down, posting a threat to that who might have been hiding by looking under the bed, huffing out a breath as you were met with emptiness.

"Okay, come out you sick fuck," you called, jumping onto your feet and opening your bedroom door, stumbling out into the hallway, heart rate raised and eyes alert. You stalked around waiting for some kind of movement, a sound, anything but the wind outside your french doors. Your breath hitched as you heard a clatter come from your bedroom, pausing for a second before you marched straight back to the doorway. It might have been stupid, you didn't know who they were and for all you knew they could have had a much deadlier weapon than the one you were carrying, but you weren't taking any chances.

Running in through your bedroom doorway you caught sight of a figure, not skipping a second as you swung with the bat, clocking them straight around the head. A flash of red and blue flooded your eye as you stood back, bat still raised ready to take another hit when your arms were taped against the wall, bat falling from your fingertips.

"Ouch!" they groaned in pain, turning to face you.

"Peter?" you leaned forward, a shocked gaze filling your face, "holy shit, I'm so sorry!" you realised maybe you shouldn't have taken fight overflight as you looked at his face, half cradled by his hand as blood seeped from a cut right above his eye.

"You almost took my eye out, are you crazy?"

"Crazy? What the fuck are you doing in my apartment dressed like Spider-Man?!" You argued back and Peter visibly bit his tongue. This was what he had feared since the moment he set foot in your apartment that evening. You, catching him red-handed. Not exactly, maybe a couple of shades faded, but he was still there searching for answers unsure of how he could possibly get himself out of this one.

"I- uh, y-um..." He stumbled over his words and it only leads your kind back to base.

"Where you... How did you...?" The tone of your voice already had Peter aware of the picture you were painting in the back of your mind. You were catching on, what would it be if you found out?

"Listen before you say anything, this is not what it looks like," Peter bean and suddenly a crack of lightning struck him, "I-I saw someone come in here earlier like they were uh... looking for something-"

"Are you Spider-Man?!"

"Please don't freak out!"

"I kind of am freaking out, Peter!"

"Well stop, you're making me freak out!"

"Well?! Are you Spider-Man?!"

"Yes, I'm Spider-Man!"

"I fucking knew it!"

"... You did?" Peter took a step back, brow scrunched in curiosity as he stared at you against the wall.

"Well, I didn't actually I just somewhat presumed, I don't know... But holy shit I know Spider-Man," you chuckled mindlessly, swallowing the nerves in your throat. Peter chuckled along with you, the side of his eye still very aware of that poster that was on your wall. Did this change the relationship the two of you now shared? Where you... A threat to him?

"Can you like, get me down?"

"Oh, uh yeah sorry," Peter shook his head, dropping his mask down on your bed and heading towards you. Gripping the webs, he pulled them down forcefully, bringing some of the wallpaper down with them as you paraded away from the wall. Your hands clung to his strong shoulders as he caught you in your stumble, holding you by the forearms.

"I should probably get that cleaned up," you smiled nervously as you looked up towards Peter, seeing the bleeding cut above his eye.

"Oh, it's fine, really," Peter shook his head, his nerves getting the better of him, "you know the suns coming up," he stood you back, trailing his fingers down the length of your arms, "I should really get going."

"So soon?" you cocked your brow, invading his space that was already so small with your hot breath, "why not stay a little longer?"

"Y/N," Peter's tone was sharp and almost came out as a warning, placing an intrusive hand on your chest, "maybe later, I... have some things I need to... figure out."

"What, my polaroids weren't good enough for you?" you teased, stopping his head from turning towards the window with your index finger, feeling him practically melt under your touch, "you don't wanna see the real thing?"

As tempting as it sounded, Peter had to choose between life and death, and right now he chose life. Whatever it was you were hiding, whatever secret you were keeping from him certainly wasn't a good one. He could feel it on your skin when you touched him, the comfortability that was all a little too invasive when you came too close, the heat of your breath like a flame on his skin.

"Later? I promise... I'll be here."

"You sure you can keep that promise, spider-boy?" you smirked, ducking your head against his, your warm lips practically touching one another. He could feel the heat of your hand racing down the length of his suit, slowly get noticeably palming his hardening length through the material of his suit, "looks like someone doesn't want to behave."

"Fuck... I'll be there," He swallowed, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead. He wanted you badly, he wanted all of you, but he wasn't sure what he would be risking by giving himself up to you just like that. It all seemed too easy, it seemed rushed and unorganised and although Peter wasn't exactly the organised type, something just seemed wrong about you... and it saddened him.

You giggled, pressing your nose into his cheek as you leaned up to kiss him, your hand moving away from his crotch to dig into his side, and Peter didn't resist. He admitted it, he was madly in love with the feeling of your lips on his, a dangerous kind of addiction he was almost scared to admit he owned. It was strange that you didn't seem mad about him invading your personal life like it was almost what you wanted him to find. It was as if you somehow knew he was going to come snooping at some point...

The fact that he was pulling away hurt you, but you knew with Peter it was going to take time, he clearly wasn't like all the other fish in the New York sea. "I'll be waiting, you know where to find me," you whispered gently as you pulled away, slyly reaching around to give his round ass a playful squeeze, "don't keep me waiting, baby, I have something special planned for you."

"I-I won't," Peter nodded, waiting until you loosened your grip to pull away. In honesty, Peter wasn't even sure he could bring himself to show up on a sain mind, but if it was left to his temptation alone he'd be there in half a heartbeat.

You stood biting your lip as he stumbled away, pulling at his suit to drive away from the aggravation around his crotch as he crawled out your small window and out onto the sunburnt sky lit building tops. He paused for a moment, looking back at you one last time as he pulled his mask over his face, blowing you a soft kiss before diving off your window ledge.

Peter was a complete wreck, while on the one hand, he was worried about keeping you satisfied, he now had the image of you quite literally stabbing him in the back. What was to come of the relationship that you shared? Were you a killer? What was with the poster? Where you after him? Was this all part of a plan? Should he have been worried? So many stupid questions and it was only the break of dawn and Peter still had an entire city to look after.

Looks like for once he was just going to have to be patient, and wait to see what tonight held out for him...

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Thank you so much for reading! Sorry this was such a short chapter, chapter nine coming soon.