Peter Parker's life was, in a word, complicated. Between juggling his responsibilities as Spider-Man, his freelance photography gigs, and his attempt to finish a college degree, he barely had time to think about himself. So when the first gift arrived on Valentine's Day in February, Peter was more confused than anything.

The package was small, wrapped in plain brown paper, with a simple note attached:

"For someone who needs to take a break—happy Valentine's Day."

Inside was a book—The Beginner's Guide to Meditation.

Peter furrowed his brow. Who could've sent this? He didn't have many close friends, and the people he did know weren't exactly the thoughtful-gift type. Yet, the timing was uncanny. After weeks of sleepless nights and constant battles with minor villains, Peter had been toying with the idea of trying meditation to help manage his stress.

"Coincidence," Peter murmured, setting the book aside. But a faint warmth bloomed in his chest. Someone had noticed his struggle, even if he had no idea who.

March

When March 14th rolled around, Peter had all but forgotten about the February gift. He'd written it off as a random act of kindness, maybe even a mistake. But when he returned to his apartment that evening, there was another package waiting for him.

This one was slightly larger, wrapped in bright red paper, with a tag that read:

"For someone who deserves something sweet—happy Valentine's Month."

Peter unwrapped it to find an assortment of gourmet chocolates, each one handcrafted and so delicate they looked like works of art. Peter didn't splurge on treats for himself, and he definitely didn't buy anything that came in fancy boxes like this.

"Okay," Peter muttered, popping a salted caramel truffle into his mouth. It melted into perfection, leaving him both delighted and slightly suspicious. "Who's doing this?"

April

By April, Peter was actively looking for the next gift. The 14th had turned into a strange kind of holiday for him, a blend of curiosity and anticipation. When the day arrived, he wasn't disappointed.

This time, the package contained a sleek, high-quality webbing kit—the kind that Peter had been sketching in his notebook but could never afford to build himself. The note attached was as simple as always:

"For someone who always gives their best—happy Valentine's Month."

Peter's mouth went dry. This wasn't just thoughtful—it was sending these gifts knew him well enough to understand his unspoken needs. But no one outside of a handful of close allies even knew about his webbing experiments.

"Whoareyou?" Peter murmured, staring at the kit.

May

May's gift was a high-end coffee maker, delivered straight to his doorstep. Peter had been dragging himself out of bed each morning, relying on cheap diner coffee to stay functional. He hadn't mentioned this to anyone, but the gift felt like a quiet acknowledgment of his exhaustion.

The note read:

"For someone who deserves to start the day right—happy Valentine's Month."

Peter leaned against the counter, gripping the note tightly. The gifts weren't random anymore. They were deliberate, personal. Whoever this was, they weren't just guessing—theyknewhim.

By June, Peter was determined to figure out the identity of his mystery gift-giver. He combed through the notes, looking for any hint of a clue. The handwriting was playful and slightly messy, but there was nothing to indicate who had written them.

He even considered asking his friends if they were behind it, but the idea of discussing it with someone like Wade Wilson—

Peter froze mid-thought.

"No way," he muttered to himself, shaking his head. "Wade wouldn't..."

But once the idea took root, Peter couldn't shake it. Wade Wilson was, above all things, unpredictable. And for all his jokes and chaos, Wade had moments of startling kindness—moments that Peter had learned to appreciate in their odd friendship.

"Still," Peter muttered, "there's no wayWadewould send gourmet chocolates or meditation books."

Would he?

July

When July 14th rolled around, Peter's suspicions were confirmed—sort of. The gift this time was a leather-bound journal, embossed with Peter's initials. It was beautiful and thoughtful, but the note attached was the kicker:

"For someone who needs a place to put all their feelings—happy Valentine's Month.

Peter stared at the note for a full minute, his brain struggling to process it. " ."

The idea was so absurd it almost made sense. Peter grabbed his phone and typed out a message:

Peter:Is this you?

Wade:Iswhatme? Be more specific, Petey. Are we talking about the gifts, your recurring dreams about me, or the time I stole your leftover pizza?

Peter groaned. "Why do I even bother?"

Peter:The Valentine's gifts.

Wade:Hypothetically, if itwasme, would you be mad? Asking for a very attractive friend.

Peter blinked at the screen. His heart skipped a beat, a mix of confusion and something else entirely.

Peter:Why?

Wade:Because you deserve it. And maybe I think you're pretty cool.

Peter stared at the message, his cheeks heating. Wade's straightforwardness left no room for misinterpretation, and for a moment, Peter didn't know what to say.

August

The next gift arrived as usual, this time with no ambiguity. It was a custom Spider-Man suit, upgraded with small but meaningful tweaks that made Peter's life easier. The note was longer than usual, scrawled in Wade's familiar handwriting:

"For someone who doesn't know how amazing they are—happy Valentine's Month. Yeah, it's me. Surprise. Or not. Whatever. Point is, I think you're awesome. And if you ever wanna hang out... you know where to find me."

Peter sat on the edge of his bed, holding the note and the suit in his hands. His heart raced as he reread the words, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.

He didn't know what to do—whether to laugh, cry, or immediately call Wade.

So he did all three.

A few days later, Peter found himself standing outside Wade's apartment, nervously holding a bag of takeout.

When Wade opened the door, he was wearing his usual red-and-black suit, but the mask was off, revealing a grin that was somehow both smug and nervous.

"Hey, Spidey," Wade said. "Fancy seeing you here."

Peter held up the bag. "I, uh... brought tacos. Thought we could talk."

Wade stepped aside, gesturing dramatically. "Come on in, lover boy. Let's make this weird."

Peter rolled his eyes but couldn't help smiling. As he walked inside, he realized that maybe, just maybe, weird wasn't so bad.

After all, Wade had spent months proving he cared, in his own chaotic, thoughtful way. And for someone like Peter, who was used to being overlooked and misunderstood, that meant everything.

"Happy Valentine's Month," Peter said, handing Wade the tacos.

Wade grinned. "Every month with you, Petey, is Valentine's Month."

And for once, Peter didn't mind the chaos.