S/pidey-Cold

[ Thank you for your patience, and THANK YOU to @softsnzstuff for hosting this Secret Santa! Hey, @butyoumakemesohot, I was your Secret Santa! Surprise!! It’s my first time joining something like this, and I was nervous, not to mention crazy busy with work and holidays...regardless, thanks for your patience, and I truly hope you like it! ] ----------------------------------- THWIP! THWIP!! Webbing shot out, sticking to the side of a building as the masked Peter Parker swung through the city -- his own concrete jungle. Spider-Man was rather impressed -- and thankful -- his webbing was durable during the December snowfall.What he wasn’t happy about -- not to mention mentally berating himself for -- was the lack of heat he was feeling as the cold air pummeled against his strong frame. Why the heck didn’t he wear thermals underneath the damn suit?! He was already feeling rather sluggish from the moment he woke up, and even while swinging, he had to resort to sniffling up the moisture he could feel pooling at the rim of his nostrils--- No. No, he couldn’t be getting sick…could he?! MJ couldn’t be right….

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* EARLIER IN THE MORNING *

The melodic ringtone would usually be welcoming to Peter, but today? Yeowch, what a headache; it felt like every tune was a jackhammer rapping against his temples. Sitting up and groaning, flinching slightly at how his throat slightly hurt when he swallowed, the college student picked up his phone. “Hey, Emb-J.” “Woah, Peter…are you feeling okay?” Brow furrowing, he cleared his throat. “Y-yeah, I just, umb, woke upb. I always sound like this whed I wake upb,” he assured his girlfriend. “....Yeah, in April when the pollen count is through the roof,” she countered. “It’s December. I think you’re---” “I’b dot sicg.” Suddenly, it was as if his own body was trying to call him out as his nose began to scrunch, a tickle building in the back of his nose. Oh god. No, no, no! “Peter, everyone gets sick. It’s okay for Spider-Man to catch--” “Sbider-Ban catches crooks. Dot…Hehh--d-dot…c-col…” Despite his willpower to stop the inevitable, his body already began to react; chest puffing out, nostrils flaring wide, lashes fluttering as he continued to hitch. “Hehh---HehhHEhhh! hHHEAASSSHHuuee! HRRAASSHHH!!” Two strong, desperate sneezes caused Peter to bend forward, before groaning softly to himself, rapping his knuckles against his pinkish nostrils. 

"...Bless you. Maybe you should take the day--" 

"Dno, dno, I'm fide! Gotta go, talk to you later!" 

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Shaking the memory from his mind, Peter landed on the rooftop of a building. No…no, he couldn’t be getting si..sihhHhh… “hHHEAASSSHHuuee!” His head jerked forward, his body moving with the sneeze, the spray collecting in his mask. “Ugh--*Sdniff!*--Just perfect,” he grumbled, moving the hem of his mask to rest on the bridge of his nose, trying his best to wipe the residue from the rims of his nostrils. His nose felt sore, and he bet if he looked in a mirror, the reflection would match how he felt: miserable. Nose probably reddened, face pale…his nose already felt congested and stuffed up, and he knew it was only a matter of time before-- “---?!”

The thought would have to wait as his body tensed, something inside -- Peter liked to call it his ‘Spidey-Sense’ -- urging him to look down and to the right as he covered his face fully with his mask once more. Lenses narrowed as he saw a group of masked thugs trying to break into a building adjacent to the one he was on. Noticing some of the thugs had -- ugh, guns -- Peter decided it would be best to try a quieter approach to stopping as many of them before getting caught. Flicking his wrist, webbing attached to the corner of the building, and he slowly started descending down. However, his nose didn’t seem to get the memo of ‘stealthy’, a tickle burning in the back of his sinuses. “Ehh…hhHEHHh…! N-no, not nehh--now…!” he mumbled to himself, wriggling his nose in a desperate attempt to quell the tickle, but to no avail; the tickle only continued to grow, surging from the back of his left nostril, soon swarming his entire nose, like angry bees inside his…h-his… “Hehh---HehhHEhhh! hHHEAASSSHHuuee!” Flinching at how...strong the sneeze was, sniffling to try and keep his nose from running, he was shocked the thugs didn’t look up immediately. “Geez, bless you!” “Wha--that wasn’t me! I thought it was you!” Eventually, the thugs looked up, hesitating as they locked eyes with the masked hero, who eventually jumped from his webbed vine, landing gently on the ground. “Uhh…Andyone wan’dto surrender? Dno?” “Geez, you sound like sh--HNNGH!” Spider-Man didn’t even let the thug finish his commentary webbing him to the wall. “Language!” Parker quipped before focusing on the other thugs charging at him. Although his reflexes were a tad slower compared to being in full health, he was still able to dodge, duck, and web up a few of them, despite taking a few punches himself. “Geez, guys! He’s sick! We could totally take him--!” A swift kick to the chest, followed by a flick of Spider-Man’s wrist, and the final thug was webbed to the ground. “Dnot today--” Peter winced at the sound of his own voice. Ugh, he was so stuffed up. Maybe MJ was right. Maybe he should take the day and-- As if MJ had a ‘spidey-sense’ of her own, the sounds of her ringtone filled the air, causing Peter to groan. He wasn’t going to hear the end of this… ------------- “hHHEAASSSHHuuee!” Peter, wrapped in a blanket as if it was his cocoon, shivered on MJ’s couch. “Why the hell didn’t you wear thermals under your suit?!” she groaned from the kitchen. He knew she was making chicken soup, but could he even smell it? No. Because his nose was…i-it was… Grabbing a few tissues, Peter buried his reddened nose into the soft material before releasing three desperate sneezes. “hHHEAASSSHHuuee! hHHEAASSSHHuuee! HehhHEhhh! hHHAAAASSSHHuuee!” Oh god, those were…well, not dry. Blowing his nose, a soft, long gurgling sound could be heard through the clamp of tissues. “I…I forgot.” “No, you didn’t forget, you were stubborn. I know you all too well, Parker…” The concern lining her tone made his shoulders sag. She was right, after all. “Y-yeah…guess y-you’re--ehhHHehh--!” “Bless y-” “HehhHEhhh! hHHEAASSSHHuuee! Thangs,” he said with a low, miserable groan. MJ continued cooking the soup, adding certain spices and stirring occasionally, knowing all too well how bad a Parker cold could be. “I just…I wish you didn’t even go out today,” she sighed, pouring contents into a bowl after turning off the stove. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Peter. I just…I love--?” As she rounded the corner, MJ couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the sleeping Peter, a whistling, stuffy snore coming from his stuffy, cold ridden nose. Sighing, she placed the bowl down on the table, readjusted his blanket, and pressed her lips to his forehead. “I love you, webhead…” she whispered before sitting in the chair, keeping watch over Peter. Her Peter…her Spider-Man.