MJ

"Soo…what do you think?"

Peter stood on the white stone steps of the spot he'd picked for their date, bouncing lightly on his toes, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as he looked to MJ for her response. The wind was cool but humid enough to frizz her hair up like a startled cat's; her stomach wouldn't quite settle because it seemed like forever since she and Peter had just gone out and done something like this together and apparently her body coped by being stupid; and the giant black coffee Peter had bought her at a shop down the road had seared all the taste buds off the tip of her tongue, but…well, the expression Peter wore was so puppy-like in its eager expectancy that there was absolutely no way she could be even the slightest annoyed by any of those things.

In fact, she could already tell that this was going to be one of her favorite dates yet.

"You brought me to the Stephen A. Schwarzman building," she remarked after she had pretended to languidly survey the said building's intricate awnings, columns, and architecture—including the iconic lion statues lounging at either end of the front steps.

Peter stopped bouncing as if a switch had been flipped and wrinkled his nose.

"Huh?"

"Also known as the main Manhattan Branch of the New York City Public Library," MJ added, lifting her coffee to her lips by habit to hide a growing smile. Peter was very conspicuously trying to hide something bundled up in his jacket, and the more she watched him try (and fail) to contain his own obvious excitement over the date he had planned for them tonight, the more she realized that it really wouldn't have mattered where this dork took her or what they were planning on doing.

What really mattered was that she was here with him.

(Though she had to admit that a date in the library sounded peaceful and satisfying in all the ways dates should be, even if she wasn't entirely sure what they were going to do yet).

Peter hopped off the steps and stepped closer to where she was standing, jostling his coffee enough that some of it seeped out of the hole in the travel lid.

"You mean you've been here before?" he asked mildly, but MJ could tell by the slightly higher pitch of his voice that he was really hoping the answer was no.

MJ took a deep breath, knowing she should tell him exactly what she'd just thought a second ago but also still getting used to the fact that Peter never failed to genuinely care about hearing her thoughts—even if they weren't what he was expecting or maybe even hoping they'd be. She swallowed her instinctive aversion to the question, suddenly thinking about everything May had said about vulnerability when they'd talked on graduation night.

"I haven't been here with you," she responded quietly, feeling the warmth of a blush steal over her cheeks at how sappy her words were going to be but not even bothering to hide the smile that rose alongside them. "So, it doesn't really matter."

Peter grinned himself and his shoulders fell into a more relaxed set.

"I probably should have guessed you'd been to every library in New York already," he said, adjusting the strange lump under his jacket with his free hand and taking a reckless sip of his own coffee. "But I wanted this to be a date you wouldn't figure out beforehand—like you've done every single time so far."

His voice was openly teasing, and MJ smirked.

"Well, I can confirm I did not, in fact, figure it out beforehand this time," she said. "And I haven't been to every one in the city. Only seventy-three of the ninety-two branches in the New York Public Library system."

Peter laughed and then reached forward to gently grab her free hand, intertwining his warm fingers with hers. He tentatively lessened the space between them, ignoring the various people giving them either annoyed or amused expressions as sidewalk traffic flowed by, and his expression went soft and lopsided on the edges in a way that never failed to make MJ's heart flutter in her chest—as cheesy as that sounded.

When did she become this sentimental anyway?

(When she met Peter Parker, of course).

(Because who didn't melt when coming face-to-face with those big brown eyes and that bleeding heart of his?)

"Do you like it?" Peter asked quietly. "I was going to take you to the Ellis Island memorial thing because I know you like history and I figured you might enjoy it if you've never been or went when you were too young to remember, but May said—"

MJ squeezed his hand to gently cut off his rambling, and the smile she flashed Peter was the kind she only ever seemed to have in reserve for him—one that brought nothing to the conversation but itself. It didn't hide any deeper meaning or motive. Nothing about it felt forced or tense in the ways she was used to.

It was simply there, a reaction to the light that was Peter Parker—and any lingering tension she might have had from the past week drained away as she leaned into that light through her smile.

"It's going to be perfect."

MJ and Peter both agreed that the library's stately architecture was even more impressive on the inside.

They entered Astor Hall first, where white marble blocks and columns, two elegant staircases at either end of the wide room, and a number of intricate archways curving above embossed marble lampposts lent the echoing space a sophisticated, somehow clingy feel MJ always associated with relics from the time period in which the library was originally built. Granted, the pervasive scent of old books in the air, dusty and unmistakable even over the much milder hints of coffee and cleaner, offset that feeling somewhat—as did the modern vibe of the pale, clean light spilling from the light fixtures.

Neither one of them really talked as they began mounting the stairs to the main reading room. Even though MJ was growing increasingly more curious about what Peter had planned, she found that she enjoyed the chance to simply…exist and breathe alongside him. They were the only people in the hall at the moment, and he seemed so much more relaxed than he had been in a while—his face clear and untroubled as he looked wonderingly around at the various features of the building—that it almost seemed wrong to disturb the soft peace surrounding them by trying to start a conversation.

When they reached the landing, however, Peter paused abruptly with a quiet "oh," dropped MJ's hand, and then looked at her with a hand over the suspiciously straight-edged bulge in his jacket.

"I almost forgot…I got something for you."

MJ raised an eyebrow, expression neutral.

"Yeah?"

Peter nodded, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and then reached under his jacket and pulled out a fancy black and gold box tied with a ribbon. He handed it to her, ducking his head a little when she accepted it. The flutter in her chest grew more noticeable.

Why did literally anything Peter did or said make her feel this…giddy?

MJ quickly untied the ribbon and opened the box to find—

"Is this dark chocolate?"

Peter nodded happily

"Yep! Do you…you do like dark chocolate, right? I know it's not much, but I think I vaguely remembering you saying something about it being your favorite once."

MJ nodded and grabbed one of the smooth, almost black squares from the box. She held it up and eyed it.

"Is this because you figured out I'm a psychopath?" she deadpanned after a moment.

(Because how else could she respond to a random gift like this? Peter had gotten her flowers before and that was one thing, but…she just wasn't used to receiving gifts for absolutely no reason).

(It was nice, but still).

Peter looked confused.

"Um? No?"

MJ maintained her flat expression for a few seconds and then broke down and snorted out an amused laugh.

"There have been studies suggesting that a preference for both dark chocolate and black coffee may be positively correlated with antisocial behavior and psychopathy," MJ shrugged, suggestively swirling the black coffee in her free hand beside the box of candy.

Peter's expression quickly changed into one she had come to know well over the course of their friendship—his eyebrows flattened slightly above his eyes, his mouth tightened subtly, and she could see the entire focus of his thoughts shift in his gaze. It was the look he got when he'd just learned something that interested him and he wanted to learn more.

"Huh," he said, his thumb now rubbing quick, small circles over her knuckles. "I'd never heard that, but…if that's true, then I wonder if it might have to do something with the production and release of neurotransmitters when tasting and digesting food—maybe even caffeine specifically? I don't know actually know a lot about psychopathy, but I'm pretty sure it's been closely linked to dopamine and serotonin levels in—"

Peter cut himself off even though MJ hadn't reacted aside from taking a polite sip of her coffee as he talked. He squinted suspiciously at his girlfriend.

"Wait. Sorry. That was...random and totally not the point." Peter took a breath, his eyes bright even while the rest of his expression had turned sheepish. "Just to be clear, I am not suggesting you're a psychopath, MJ. You're like…the absolute opposite of a psychopath—though I do think coffee shouldn't look like an actual black hole."

"Hello darkness my old friend," MJ responded, smirking. And then she dropped her gaze and her smirk. "I was just kidding, though. Thanks for the chocolates, Peter. It was really…sweet."

She paused, mentally facepalming for her accidental pun and also scrambling for a way to reinforce the fact that she really was grateful for his gift to her. Something came to her and she went for it before she could overthink it.

"And also for that adorable face you made when I said the word 'studies.'"

Peter froze at the comment and then seemed to struggle for a moment to look pleased while also not looking too pleased. MJ smiled and then turned before he could see it, tucking the box of chocolates under her arm and resuming her trek up the stairs.

At least I said something right, she thought as Peter hastily recovered and came after her, taking the steps two at a time. A trickle of self-frustration had begun growing alongside the warmth that had been in her belly since she'd first met up with Peter for the walk over to the library. Even though she really had been joking when she made that comment about psychopathy because she didn't know how to respond to his sweet gesture, it seemed like she'd still managed to make Peter feel uncomfortable and like he'd done something wrong, even if it was only for a few seconds.

(And even if he'd been distracted by the science of the comment, which was both the peak of nerdiness and also one of the many things she loved about Peter Parker).

She always hated making Peter feel awkward—unless he felt awkward in response to a well-deserved compliment or she was actually succeeding in being decently flirtatious—but…

This was her first relationship, and Peter was just so much purer than her in pretty much every way. How was she supposed to navigate that? What if she couldn't be everything he needed? What if their worldviews were just different enough—hers consistently darker and pessimistic while his was lighter and full of hope–that they wouldn't be able to make this work between them in the long run?

She breathed out a discreet sigh through her nose as Peter came up beside her and gently slipped the box of chocolates out from under her arm.

"I, uh, just wanted to say real quick that I'm really glad we could come and hang out tonight," he said quietly. "You're literally the best, MJ."

He slipped his hand in hers again, and MJ found that the anxious buzz of her thoughts faded significantly as soon as he did so. She made up her mind then: no way was stupid, more-than-likely-misplaced anxiety going to ruin her time with Peter tonight.

He didn't deserve it after the chaos of the past few months, and…maybe she didn't either.

"I'm glad too," she responded, smiling over at him, and once more they lapsed into a soft, comfortable silence until they came upon the true heart of the library.

It was a massive, warm-toned room lined with giant arched windows and two levels of thick bookcases. The natural lighting, a wide, well-traveled walkway made of copper-colored tile, and twin rows of chandeliers swinging beneath an ornate ceiling—which housed a muted sky mural—made the main reading room much more welcoming than Astor Hall had been, even if there were probably thirty or forty people scattered amongst the sturdy oak tables on either side of the walkway.

She turned to Peter.

"So, what's the plan?"

Peter grinned, his brown eyes warm as he casually began stepping backwards into the massive room, tugging her with him, her chocolate still under his arm.

"We read! I've never done it myself, but I've heard it's what you're supposed to do here."

MJ smiled even as she shook her head.

"Such a nerd."

"Says the self-admitted library connoisseur," Peter shot back playfully.

"Touché."

MJ allowed the last of her anxiety to melt away as she ran her eyes over the thousands of books. The room was big enough and the tables spread out enough she knew they'd be able to whisper without disturbing anyone, and she was already itching to peruse the second-floor shelves for obscure local histories or biographies.

This was going to be fun.

Peter

Two hours and way too much dark chocolate later, MJ and Peter were almost back in Queens.

It was dark by now—light pollution the only true competitor with street lamps and storefronts as they walked down damp sidewalks—but for how bright and genuine MJ's smile was right now, it really didn't matter to him. He swung their hands together and grinned sideways at her.

"I'm still wondering why 1984 is one of your favorite books ever," he said. "I've never read it, but isn't it, like, super…depressing?"

MJ shook her head and looked up at the sky with just the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

(Peter's heart most definitely didn't skip when she looked over at him a second later and, no, he most definitely didn't want to kiss her right now why would you think that).

"It's only depressing to people who refuse to admit to themselves that George Orwell wasn't really describing some distant or implausible future—he was merely recognizing and amplifying the injustices we already see around us. Or don't see, depending on who you are."

Peter frowned, considering the significance of her statement—and how dryly she had said it.

"Okay, again, I've never read the book, but I just want you to know what you said sounded really deep and poetic and if anyone ever asks me what I thought about that book, I'm totally stealing your description."

MJ snorted and kicked at a chunk of sidewalk that had been dislodged by the roots of an ornamental tree.

"I had fun tonight," she said after a moment.

Peter grinned.

"Good. I was kind of worried it would be a little weird. I mean…I've never heard of having a date in the library, but it seemed like a good way to, uh, get to know you, you know?"

MJ cocked her head, and then she looked at him like she was trying to solve a puzzle. Maybe even like she was trying to solve him—which might have made him mildly uncomfortable if it had been coming from anyone else. As it was, coming from her, it just made him feel all warm and tingly inside.

Yeah, okay that was weird, but it was true.

"That's the reason you had us both go pick out our favorite books and try to guess what they were about?" she asked. "I assumed you picked the library because it was so relaxing. And quiet."

Peter smiled as he thought back to the couple of intense conversations they'd had over the quantum mechanics textbook Peter had found and then MJ's detailed literary analysis of Jane Austen's novels (he'd had no idea MJ got so passionate about Pride and Prejudice, and she'd made him swear he'd never tell anyone else that she'd even picked the book up…much less liked it).

"Nope! I mean, yeah, some of it was because of the atmosphere. But Ned told me he read this article once that said spending time with someone by exploring their hobbies alongside them is really good for getting to know them and stuff. One of the first hobbies I thought of that I knew you really liked was reading, so…yeah. Libraries."

Peter happily glanced down at his shoes—just in time to avoid stepping on a chunk of gum, no less. Gross. He made a face and swerved around it before looking back up again.

"Oh—here's the street I was looking for!"

Peter stopped and jerked his head toward the side-street, realizing a second too late he hadn't even given MJ a chance to respond to his explanation and that she had donned a weird, tight expression as she looked down at her feet.

He frowned, his excitement over the next part of their date night stuttering.

"Hey, are you okay?"

He stopped walking, and MJ looked up like she had just been forcibly ejected from her thoughts. She smoothed her expression away too fast for him to believe she had really banished whatever thoughts she had been wading through a moment ago, though.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said.

At his skeptical expression, she squeezed his hand. "Seriously. I'll tell you later. I promise. You said you found the street you were looking for?"

Peter hesitated.

But he trusted that she really would keep her promise (and if she didn't bring it up again, he would definitely be asking her about it before the night was over because if something was going on he wanted to know how he could help). So, he nodded, noting the relieved slump of her shoulders as she saw him (temporarily) let it go.

Huh.

Not suspicious or anything.

He cleared his throat, and the thread of nervousness he'd been able to successfully ignore all night began subtly unwinding in his belly.

"Yeah, there's one more place I want us to go tonight."

"It's crazy how close we are to actually graduating."

Peter glanced beside him, at MJ. She was casually leaning against the ornamental stone railing of Midtown High's roof like he was, and a light, humid breeze drifting in from the city beyond them blew the hair away from her slightly upturned face.

"Technically, we should have already been free," she commented.

Peter grinned.

"Thanks again for that," he said. "I seriously don't know what I would do without you guys."

MJ grinned and then turned toward him, propped up on one arm so she was leaning sideways. The dynamic glow of the city illuminated one half of her face, and Peter swallowed because…why on earth had she ever bothered to notice him in the first place? And how had he not noticed her awesomeness earlier in their high school career? It seriously made no sense.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked quietly, and Peter's gaze abruptly dropped to the rough stone beneath his fingertips. His heartrate spiked.

(It had nothing to do with the intense attention MJ was now giving him. It didn't).

He took a deep breath and thought about pancakes and May and love and worry. He looked out at the city—glittering, growing, his home—and, to his surprise, his heartrate began to fall back to a more normal range.

He stepped away from the railing and shrugged off his jacket, not giving himself the chance to feel awkward about what he was about to do.

"Okay," he said. "I'm about to take off my shirt—"

MJ blinked.

"Because I have my Spiderman costume underneath! And…well, I'll tell you why in a second. Just wanted to give you a, uh, heads-up."

MJ nodded, clearly perturbed at this point despite herself, and Peter quickly lifted his shirt up and off his head—even though there was that recurring warmth burning in his cheeks and the distinct sense that he really should have planned this whole part of the night better because yeah I was going for a whole symbolic moment by wearing the suit but I just failed spectacularly at that soo

Nevertheless, when he had tossed his shirt to the side, the sight of the spider emblem on his chest solidified his resolve. He breathed in a deep lungful of air.

"MJ," he said, firmly ignoring that the drama he was creating over this whole thing was beginning to feel suspiciously proposal-like and MJ probably felt that too. "Tonight, I want to make you a promise."

MJ didn't say anything, though she'd stopped leaning on the roof railing and was now squarely facing him, curiosity written boldly on her face. He took that as a good sign and pushed forward.

"I know that since the, uh, Europe trip specifically I've been pretty hesitant to talk about Spiderman stuff with you."

Peter scratched at the back of his neck.

"The truth is…I just haven't really known what to do with all that happened. I mean, we both died for five years, so that's cool. But then I also kind of lost T—Tony."

He smiled just because he could—and also because he didn't want MJ to feel like she had to comfort him or anything. He was fine—his heartrate wasn't even rising that much—but trying to say what he wanted to say as concisely and earnestly as possible was a little hard.

"And then Mysterio messed around with my head and I got hit by a train, so, um. Yeah. I'm trying to figure things out, but I was talking with May recently and—listen, I haven't wanted to worry you or Ned or Betty by talking about all of this or maybe putting you in danger because you do know too much."

He took another deep breath to give his brain the oxygen it needed to keep his thoughts flowing logically. He was almost done.

He had this, and MJ was giving him the space to talk through it at his own pace even though he could tell by the dark, somewhat intimidating dip of her eyebrows that she had things she wanted to say.

(How did she know exactly what he needed like that?)

"Anyway. What I'm trying to say is that May helped me realize that when you—when you love someone, you're naturally going to worry about them. It doesn't feel good—to be the one worried about or the one doing the worrying, honestly—but it can't really be…avoided, I guess? And if you're going to date me, Peter Parker, you also deserve to know more about, you know. All the things I do at night. You deserve to be in both parts of my life, as messy as they are."

He closed his eyes briefly.

"So I promise that from now on, I won't try to hide Spiderman from you like I kinda have been doing. I promise to let you know what's going on when I'm out because…well, I think I understand why you and Ned and Betty and May would want to know, even if it worries you. I want to make sure you always know exactly what you're getting into by b—being with me. But only," he added. "If you want to know about all of it."

He cringed at the execution of his speech—though admittedly all that rehearsal seemed to have helped him say most of the things he had intended to say—and then he looked up to see MJ wearing an expression he wasn't really sure how to interpret. It looked kind of like…pride, maybe? Worry? Admiration?

However, she actually didn't respond to him for a few seconds, and he was just about to ask her if she was okay when she stepped close to him and took both his hands in hers. Her gaze fell to the symbol on the chest of his suit and rested there for a moment; her eyes might have been glassy, but it was hard to tell for sure in the dim lighting. And after another moment of silence in which Peter honestly had no clue what to do because it seemed rude to interrupt her thoughts but it also seemed inappropriate to even breathe right now, she looked up at him with the softest, most vulnerable smile she had worn all night.

Peter may or may not have melted. And actually started breathing again.

"Thank you. That's...actually what I wanted to talk to you about tonight," she said, almost apologetically.

She lifted a hesitant finger and slowly traced the Spider emblem on his chest while he tried to stand stock-still, to give her the space to speak that she had given him earlier.

"And of course I want to know all of it," she murmured. "Spiderman is inseparable from Peter Parker. and…"

She looked up at him, and the gleam in her eyes was way better than the city lights he had come to love so much over the years.

"I wouldn't want it any other way."

Before Peter could even begin to respond to that, MJ cleared her throat and took a step back as if suddenly embarrassed. She wrapped her arms around herself.

"Sorry," she said, inexplicably, her eyes dropping to the ground. "That came out so cheesy and, well...you know I'm not the best at expressing affection for people. Or emotions in general. And I always say weird things at inappropriate times instead of actually telling people how I feel or how much I care about them. But…"

She bit her lip in frustration and Peter wished he could say the exact words she needed to hear right now…that she he could tell her in a single sentence that she had absolutely nothing to be sorry for or worry about and he did not deserve her at all—

But she found her own footing before he found his.

"What I'm trying to say is that I care about you, Peter. A lot. And even though I still haven't figured out why, you chose to be with and to get to know me. Now, I, um, promise to do the same. I choose you, Peter—even when things get messy."

As soon as she finished speaking—as soon as she spoke that last word and then lifted her eyes to meet his with a ferocity that felt like she was daring him to deny any of the things she had just said…

Well, Peter felt like all the air had just been sucked out of his lungs. And he meant that in the absolute best way possible. His heartrate spiked, his fingertips buzzed, and—

Oh gosh.

He loved her.

He was definitely in love.

Now, what did he do? What did he say in response to all that? (His heart was literally beating so fast right now—was this even normal?)

MJ was literally the smartest, kindest, funniest, most beautiful person she knew, and she had already been there for him so many times—both as Spiderman and as Peter. More than that? Anyone who truly knew her understood that her sarcastic words and her unreadable facial expressions and her uncanny ability to diagnose all of society's ills even when it hurt was just a front for a heart that felt and loved on a deeper level than he'd probably ever truly understand.

In short, it was Peter who didn't deserve MJ—not the other way around, as she seemed to be not-so-subtly implying.

When after a few seconds Peter still couldn't figure out what to say without sounding absolutely stupid and therefore continued to stand there, gaping, something like nervousness materialized on MJ's face.

"Um, Peter?"

Peter's eyes fell unbidden to her lips and then jumped back up to her eyes.

Was this an okay time to kiss her? Would that be weird? They'd kissed before, of course, but…she'd always initiated the kisses. What if she didn't want to be kissed?

"Uh, sorry. Yeah. Um. MJ, you're awesome. I don't know what to say yet, but you are definitely not bad at expressing affection and—um, is it okay if I kiss you right now?"

Oops.

Okay, he hadn't actually meant to ask that. See, this was the reason he practiced his speeches beforehand. And also, people called it "puppy love" like it was something tame and cute and cuddly, but no one said it legitimately broke your brain so you couldn't even tell your girlfriend you lov—

Heat rushed into his face, but before he even finished mentally slapping himself for his slip-up, MJ's soft fingers brushed his cheek and she was leaning in with a knowing smirk on her face, the smell of her shampoo swallowing up the heavy smells of the sodden city air.

Peter met her halfway.

When she leaned back again, her breath warm against his face and her hands cupping the back of his neck and Peter's heartbeat loud in his chest, he still couldn't think of anything to say, but there was a lump in his throat that didn't really make sense...at least at first.

He didn't think he was about to cry, but he also didn't think he was about to laugh either.

Instead, he felt, in a way, like he had just reached the apex of a swing on one of his webs—that strangely still, exhilarating space between breaths where whatever he had been swinging away from lay behind him and a thousand new possibilities for where he could swing next lay before him, only a heartbeat away in any given direction.

Yeah, when the time came for him to release the web that had gotten him to this apex in the first place, he knew there would be a split second where he wasn't really attached to anything, where he was weightless and untethered and poised to fall.

But with a sudden clarity, Peter realized that even as that inevitable moment loomed ahead, he knew exactly what was going to save him from falling next.

"Thank you, MJ," he whispered, and though she hadn't been privy to all the thoughts he had just sprinted through in his head, they both knew she didn't have to be.

Without another word, MJ gently pressed her forehead to Peter's, and they both began to breathe in sync as their eyes slipped closed and peace settled in their bellies and the future spread out before them.

It was a future they faced together.

And they knew it was worth fighting for, come what may.

A/N: 1) THIS THING IS ACTUALLY COMPLETE (though I do apologize for how weird and dumpster fire-ish this chapter is because honestly my brain is so fried right now). ANYWAY. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS FAR YOU HAVE ALL BEEN AMAZING AND THIS HAS BEEN A LOT OF FUN! _ (thanks for the date idea as well :)

2) The Author has been in exactly zero (0) romantic relationships (#LivingtheSpicyLife), so I have no clue if this whole, gratuitous kissing/fluffy/dating chapter worked in any way whatsoever. Please let me know what you thought if you have time or brain cells left after reading this, even if it's a scathing (but constructive) critique because Love is Important and I really want to improve on my fluff/scenes like this in future writing endeavors. Thank you so much. 3

OH AND HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR PLEASE AND THANK YOU! You. Are. Loved.

"Love the LORD, all his faithful people! The LORD preserves those who are true to him, but the proud he pays back in full. Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the LORD." ~Psalm 31:23-24