[Third Person Pov]
After the chaos and friendly violence of their volleyball match finally settled, the group gathered their scattered belongings, shook sand out of towels, and cleaned up the little island that had served as their battleground for the afternoon. The sun hovered low, casting an orange sheen across the water as everyone hopped onto their jet-skis for the ride back toward the main beach.
Felicia wasted absolutely no time claiming Gwen's former spot behind Peter. She slid onto the seat with a grin bright enough to rival the sunset, pressing herself into his back as the jet-ski rumbled to life. The wind whipped through her silver hair as they bounced over the waves, and with every jolt, she molded herself more snugly against him.
A mischievous glint flashed in her eyes—never a good sign—before she slid her hands from his abdomen up to his chest, fingers boldly exploring.
Peter looked down at the painted nails now splayed across his pecs like she was claiming territory and asked flatly, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Honk-honk!" Felicia answered cheerfully as she gave his chest a quick squeeze.
He immediately slapped her hands away. "Please stop trying to violate me…" he said, voice cracking between exasperation and mock distress.
Felicia giggled, undeterred. She slapped her hands right back into place, cupping him like some kind of treasure she'd found. "Let mama cop a feel~ No one told you you had such big ol' man titties."
Peter slowly turned his head, giving her a horrified, confused, and offended look all at once. The sight of his expression made Felicia burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly slipping off the seat.
"Keep that up and I might develop an insecurity," Peter muttered, attempting a glare but struggling to hold it when she kept giggling behind him.
Felicia gave another proud squeeze. "Please, be grateful. There are girls who would kill to have a chest as big as yours."
"You're no better than a man…" Peter said in a monotone deadpan.
Felicia didn't even bother replying. She just pressed her cheek against his back, humming happily while kneading his chest like a smug cat.
By the time they finally returned to the main beach and handed the jet-skis back in, the sun had dipped beneath the horizon completely, leaving the sky a deep indigo. The amusement park next to the pier had already lit up, neon beams and flickering colors reflecting off the ocean like scattered jewels.
"Before calling it a day, shall we go?" Peter asked, glancing at the group.
Everyone agreed instantly—one last adventure before heading home.
…
Harry and Lizzy wandered off as soon as they entered the park, fingers intertwined as they disappeared into the maze of lights. Gwen and MJ were immediately claimed by Aria, who bounced with enough excitement to drag the two along with her—leaving only Peter and Felicia paired together.
The two strolled casually along the pier, the distant sounds of roller coasters, laughter, and chimes blending into a comforting background buzz. Peter carried a large bag of blue cotton candy in one hand while Felicia tore fluffy pieces off and fed both him and herself with no sense of restraint.
Peter stuck out his tongue—now stained an aggressively bright blue—and asked, "Alright, how bad is it? Be honest."
Felicia smirked, stuffing more cotton candy into her mouth before answering, "It looks like you went down on Smurfette and gave her the best night of her life."
Peter snorted so hard he almost choked. "That's… definitely one way to put it."
"Wait—hold on," Felicia said suddenly. She dusted sugar from her fingers and reached boldly into Peter's half-zipped hoodie pocket, retrieving her phone without asking.
She raised it high, grabbed Peter by the collar to yank him closer, and stuck out her blue tongue with pride. "C'mon! Do the face with me!"
Peter rolled his eyes but leaned in, matching her pose for the photo.
The camera flashed, catching the neon glow behind them: Peter with his backwards cap, Felicia with her white-rim sunglasses perched atop her head, the bag of cotton candy between them like a centerpiece as they both had their blue tongues out.
Felicia lowered the phone, smiling wide at the image. "Okay, this is adorable. We should use this as matching caller IDs."
"Kat, I love you. But I'm never replacing your current one," Peter said smugly. "Baby-you surrounded by money is too perfect. It stays forever."
Felicia's smile flatlined. "One of these days I'm going to break into your phone and delete that picture permanently."
"You know Aria can restore it in five seconds, right?" Peter teased as he leaned in to bite a piece of cotton candy from her fingers.
"Stupid you and your A.I. daughter," Felicia grumbled, grabbing a giant handful of candy and stuffing it aggressively into her mouth.
Peter only chuckled and gently brushed the corner of her lips with his thumb to clean the sugar away. Felicia didn't resist—she tilted her face toward his touch, eyes softening ever so slightly as the bright carnival lights flickered across both of them.
They continued strolling through the glowing maze of the amusement park, fingers naturally intertwining until their hands felt molded together. Felicia swung their arms gently as she took in every corner of color and motion, her eyes sparkling like she was experiencing the world through a camera lens she wanted to capture everything with.
"Look, a photobooth! It's perfect—let's go!" Felicia exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. She tugged at Peter's arm without hesitation, practically dragging him across the pier. "We can take a ton more pictures there!"
"You really love pictures, huh?" Peter asked, already wearing a shaky smile someone gets when they know resistance is pointless.
"Well, duh." Felicia gave him a playful shove with her shoulder. "How else are we supposed to remember every ridiculous, dumb, adorable thing that happens? Years from now we'll be able to look back at these and relive the fun we had today." Her smile was warm, genuine, and almost unfairly captivating.
Peter's resolve melted instantly—he felt it physically. "Alright… I'm convinced," he said, allowing her to pull him into the cramped little booth.
The moment the curtain fell behind them, Felicia sprang into action like a seasoned professional. She hit the start button, and the camera began its countdown.
Three… two… one—
Flash.
Then again.
And again.
They twisted into pose after pose, each more chaotic than the last: squishing their faces together, sticking out their tongues, making heart signs, lifting each other in ways the tiny booth absolutely was not designed to accommodate. The flashing lights nearly blinded them, but neither cared—they were too busy laughing.
By the time they stumbled back outside, they were breathless and giggling uncontrollably. Felicia held the fresh strip of photos like it was treasure.
"Okay, okay—look at this one," she said, showing him the first picture: her on his back flashing a peace sign, Peter trying not to fall over.
The next had them swapping accessories—Felicia wore his backwards cap while Peter sported her oversized white sunglasses with complete seriousness.
Another showed Peter holding Felicia up by the thighs, her arms looped tight around his neck… and the one after that captured them mid-kiss in that same position, both of them smiling into it.
Felicia's absolute favorite, though, was very obvious. She pressed the photo to her chest dramatically. "This is art." It was the picture of her face buried in Peter's pecs, motorboating him while he tried (and failed) to hold in laughter. The following frame had both of them on the floor wiping tears from their eyes.
The photobooth had stickers built into the machine, which Felicia instantly claimed. She decorated each picture with colorful stars, hearts, rainbows, and glittery borders, humming happily as she tucked them into Peter's sweater pockets for safekeeping.
"These would be so cute on a fridge or mirror," she said with a bouncy little skip. "Like daily reminders of how adorable we are."
As they walked, Peter noticed a group of guys around their age approaching. Their eyes flicked toward Felicia—lingering, assessing, admiring. She was, without question, one of the most striking people on the pier. Silver hair catching neon light, wearing his oversized sweater, laughing with her whole face.
The moment the guys looked at Peter, they found him staring back with a cold, flat expression. A warning. No words needed.
Their gazes snapped away immediately.
Peter sighed, undid his sweater, and slipped it off his shoulders, placing it over Felicia.
"Hm?" she questioned, brows raised.
"It's getting cold," Peter said softly. "You should wear it."
Felicia giggled, pleased by the gesture. "How thoughtful of you~" She slid her arms inside the sleeves and tucked her photos into the pockets, looking—if Peter was being honest—unbearably cute.
They wandered toward the docks, where the ocean stretched infinitely under the night sky. From where they stood, a distant cruise ship glowed like a floating city of lights.
Felicia hopped up onto the wooden railing with practiced ease, sitting comfortably as the sea breeze played with her hair. The moonlight traced a soft glow along her jawline.
Peter stepped closer, gently gathering the loose sides of the sweater and pulling the zipper up. Slowly. Carefully.
Felicia lifted her chin allowing him to continue while she stared at him with a teasing smirk. "What's wrong? Why're you trying to cover me up, hmm?"
"You know exactly why," Peter said with a scoff. "I don't like when other guys stare at you. They get on my nerves. You're for my eyes and my eyes only"
Felicia's expression softened. She cupped his cheeks with both hands, brushing his hair away from his eyes before leaning down until her forehead rested against his. "Being possessive looks good on you, Parker," she whispered.
"Does it really?" he murmured, staring into her bright, mesmerizing emerald eyes.
"I personally love it…" Her lips brushed his, warm and soft, before she whispered against them, "I like a man who doesn't hesitate to guard what's supposed to be his."
Their kiss deepened—slow, unhurried, tender. The kind of kiss that lingered like warmth in the chest. Felicia stroked his cheek lovingly, while Peter braced his hands on the railing beside her thighs, his body almost caging hers in.
"…And I especially like," Felicia breathed, "how protective and possessive you get over me. It makes me feel…" She kissed him again, lips trailing across his cheek and back to his mouth. "…special."
Peter lifted her chin slightly with two fingers, standing at his full height. His voice was low, warm, and full of sincerity. "You are special, Kat. To me… you're everything."
Felicia let out a soft, breathless sound as she resumed peppering kisses along his lips and jawline. "How am I… supposed to behave…" each word came between tender kisses, "if you keep… saying things like that?"
Their laughter blended with their kisses—warm, soft, and overflowing with affection. Neither rushed. Neither pulled away. They simply stayed wrapped up in each other under the neon lights and the stars, as if the rest of the world had quietly faded away.
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