Hi! If it’s possible I’d like to request Peter Parker x Stark!reader. People knew reader and spidey are dating. But someone spotted her with Peter looking unusually intimate. Then, people began to assume she was cheating.
Hi! Thanks for the request!
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Parings → Peter Parker x Stark! Reader
Warnings → PDA, Fluff, Social media/viral drama, cheating mentioned.
Summary → Y/N Stark got caught kissing Peter; media assumes she's cheating on Spider-Man.
A single, blurry, slightly angled photo that looked like it had been taken in a rush. Probably from across the street, probably by someone who thought they’d just caught the moment of the year.
And, well… they kind of had.
You were pressed against a brick wall outside a quiet café in Manhattan, your fingers tangled deep in Peter Parker’s hair, pulling him down into a kiss that was anything but subtle.
His hand was firm on your waist, fingers curled like he didn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. Your body leaned into his like it was second nature, like you belonged there.
It wasn’t just a kiss. It looked intimate.
By the time you woke up the next morning, it was everywhere.
News articles. Gossip blogs. Twitter threads. TikTok edits with dramatic music. Every kind of social media.
You didn’t even need to unlock your phone fully, notifications were already flooding your screen.
“Y/N STARK CAUGHT CHEATING ON SPIDER-MAN?”
“MYSTERY MAN IDENTIFIED AS PETER PARKER”
“WHO IS THE GUY STEALING SPIDER-MAN’S GIRL?”
You blinked at your phone, still half-asleep.
“…you’ve got to be kidding me.”
From beside you, Peter groaned, face buried in your pillow. “What?” He mumbled, voice rough with sleep
Instead of answering, you turned your phone toward him. He squinted at the screen. Then blinked. Then sat up so fast he nearly knocked foreheads with you.
A heavy, stunned silence filled the room as both of you stared at the photo again. This time with full awareness of what it looked like.
To the public, it was simple:
Y/N Stark = dating Spider-Man
Y/N Stark = making out with some random guy
Peter ran a hand through his already messy hair.
“I mean…” he started, weakly, “technically… you are making out with your boyfriend—”
“—who is also Spider-Man—”
“—so like, morally, we’re in the clear—”
“I’m not laughing,” he said quickly, even though there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m panicking internally.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, then grabbed your phone again, scrolling through the chaos.
Comments. Thousands of them.
Some are defending you. Most… not.
“Imagine cheating on a literal superhero???”
You sighed, dragging a hand down your face.
“Yeah,” Peter muttered. “I mean, I’m literally right here—”
The silence didn’t last long. Because the next thing that exploded was your bedroom door.
You winced before Tony Stark even fully stormed in, his voice echoing through the room like a warning siren.
“…I’m going to die,” he whispered.
“You’re already dead,” you muttered back. “Just sit still.”
Tony didn’t even knock. He never did, but this time? There wasn’t even the illusion of patience.
He walked in, tablet in hand, glasses pushed up, face tight with irritation.
“Care to explain why the entire internet thinks my daughter is cheating on Spider-Man with—” he glanced at the screen, “—Peter Parker?”
Peter raised a hand slightly.
Tony stared at him. Then back at you. Then back at him.
Peter slowly lowered his hand.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
Tony let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“Oh, really? Because it looks like you were eating his face in public.”
You closed your eyes for a second.
“…we got carried away...”
“Carried—” Tony repeated, incredulous. “Carried away? In the middle of Manhattan? In broad daylight??”
Peter cleared his throat awkwardly, “In our defense—”
“There is no defense!” Tony cut in immediately.
You sighed. He wasn’t wrong. That was the worst part.
You and Peter were careful.
No public dates as Peter and Y/N. No unnecessary risks. No lingering touches where cameras could catch.
Spider-Man and you? Public enough to be believable.
Peter Parker and you? Practically strangers in the public eye.
That was the system. It worked. Until yesterday.
Until one stupid, impulsive moment outside a café where Peter had said something dumb, you had laughed, and then he kissed you. And you didn’t stop him. And now this.
Tony turned the tablet toward you, “Do you see this?
Side-by-side comparisons. Dramatic edits. Headlines in bold fonts. People zooming into the photo like it was a crime scene.
“SPIDER-MAN DESERVES BETTER”
“PETER PARKER WHEN I CATCH YOU—”
Peter leaned over your shoulder, “…okay, that last one feels threatening.”
Tony swiped again. Comments flooded the screen. Sympathy for Spider-Man. Hate for you. Even more hate for Peter.
“You see the problem?” Tony asked sharply.
“Yes,” you said flatly. “The internet is stupid.”
“The internet is not the problem,” Tony shot back. “The problem is that you two forgot basic survival instincts.”
Peter winced, “Yeah, that’s fair.”
Tony started pacing, “I’ve already contacted legal. We’re working on taking the photos down, flagging reposts, limiting circulation—”
“It’s not going to work, dad,” you said.
“It’s already everywhere,” you added, calmer now. “You can’t erase it.”
Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah… I mean, people already saved it, reposted it, made edits, there’s like… fifty versions of the same photo.”
Tony stared at both of you. Then dragged a hand down his face.
“Same,” you and Peter said at the same time.
Another notification buzzed on your phone. You glanced down. Then snorted softly despite yourself.
You turned the screen toward him.
A TikTok edit. Dramatic music. Zoom-ins. Slow-motion kiss.
“…I look kinda good though.”
Tony pointed at the screen, “This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Then, more quietly, “This doesn’t just go away.”
The room fell silent again. Because he was right. This wasn’t some small rumor. This was you.
Anything involving your name didn’t fade; it multiplied.
You exhaled slowly, thinking.
You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you looked at Peter. He already knew that look.
“…why does this feel like I’m missing something incredibly stupid?”
“Peter, it’s the cleanest way.”
He pointed at himself again.
“You’re asking me to go out there—as Spider-Man—and say you and I weren’t serious.”
“That it was just a fling.”
“That you’re actually dating… me.”
Tony blinked. Once. Twice. Then slowly turned his head toward Peter.
Tony stared at him, “…I know.”
You watched the realization settle.
Then Tony looked between the two of you, expression shifting from confusion to something dangerously close to impressed irritation.
“So let me get this straight,” he said slowly. “The solution… is for Spider-Man to publicly say he got dumped… by himself.”
Tony let out a short laugh, shaking his head.
“Did you two just talked telepathically?? That is the dumbest smart plan I’ve ever heard.”
“I’ll take that as approval,” you said.
“I didn’t approve anything,” he snapped.
But he wasn’t shutting it down either.
Peter leaned back slightly, running a hand through his hair again, “I would be publicly humiliating one version of myself.”
“You’d be saving me,” you said simply.
That shut him up. Then he exhaled, “…I hate how easily that works on me.”
Tony scoffed, “Of course it does. You’re a teenager.”
Silence settled again. He looked at you. You held his gaze. You trusted him. That was clear.
Peter would burn down the internet if it meant you didn’t have to deal with this.
So this? This was an easy decision.
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “I cannot believe I’m agreeing to this.”
“You’re not agreeing,” you said. “You’re just… not stopping us.”
Tony turned away, already pulling up something on his tablet again, “If you’re doing this, you do it fast. Control the narrative before it spirals again.”
Peter nodded, “Yeah. Short statement. No drama.”
“Good,” Tony muttered. “For once.”
As Tony stepped out to make a call, the room quieted.
Just you and Peter again.
You glanced at him, “…you okay?”
He looked at you. Then smiled, small but real, “Yeah.”
You raised an eyebrow, “Oh?”
“Yeah,” he said, leaning a little closer. “I’m literally getting dumped by my own girlfriend.”
“Devastating,” he agreed.
The next day felt… quieter.
Not outside, God, no. The internet was still loud, still messy, still obsessed, but inside the compound, things had settled into something more controlled.
You were sprawled across your bed, laptop open, phone in hand, refreshing the same page for the hundredth time while Peter paced near your window.
“Sit down,” you said without looking up.
“I am sitting,” Peter Parker replied without thinking.
You glanced up. He was very much not sitting.
“…you’re literally walking.”
“I’m walking with purpose.”
“I’m—” he stopped, exhaling, then dropped onto the edge of your bed. “Okay, yeah, I’m pacing.”
You huffed a small laugh, then turned your phone toward him, “Comments are still bad. Not as bad as yesterday, but still bad.”
He leaned in slightly, scanning, “Yeah… people really love Spider-Man, huh?”
“Yeah,” you said dryly. “And they really hate ‘the guy who stole his girl.’”
Peter winced, “Yeah, that’s… unfortunate for me.”
“I better. I just publicly upgraded myself.”
That pulled a smile out of you.
Tony had made it very clear. One statement. Clean. Simple. No rambling.
Peter had written it. Deleted it. Rewritten it. Deleted it again.
Now his phone sat in his hand, the post ready, caption typed, video attached, thumb hovering over the button.
You watched him for a second, “Nervous?”
He glanced at you, “…a little.”
You tilted your head, “Why?”
He hesitated. Then shrugged, “I don’t know. It’s weird.”
“Like… I know it’s fake,” he continued, “but I still have to say it.”
You softened slightly, “That we weren’t serious?”
You held his gaze. Then, quietly, “Well… you know that’s not true.”
Something in his expression eased. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know.”
You nodded toward his phone, “Do it.”
He took a breath., “…okay.” And tapped post. It spread instantly. Of course it did.
Spider-Man’s official account wasn’t just popular, it was global. Millions of followers. Every post dissected within seconds.
You both leaned in, watching as the views climbed.
Comments started pouring in.
The video itself was simple.
Spider-Man perched casually on a rooftop, camera angled slightly up, city stretching behind him.
“Hey,” he started, voice steady. “I’ve been seeing a lot of stuff online, so I just wanted to clear something up.”
“Y/N and I—we weren’t really in a relationship. It wasn’t serious. We were just… hanging out.”
“She didn’t cheat on anyone.”
“She’s with someone now. His name is Peter Parker.”
A slight shift, almost like he was adjusting his stance.
“And he’s a good guy, works for Tony Stark.”
Back on screen, Spider-Man continued:
“We’re still friends. So… yeah. That’s it. Just—leave her alone, okay?”
You and Peter stared at the screen as the numbers kept climbing. The comments refreshed. And refreshed again. And again.
“Wait so she wasn’t cheating???”
“Okay respect for clearing it up”
“That kid works for Stark???”
“Spider-Man is so mature for this”
“Never thought Spider-Man would have a fling...”
Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.
More comments. More reactions. The tone had shifted. Not completely, there were still a few haters, a few people clinging to the drama, but the majority?
You leaned back against your pillows, shoulders relaxing.
“Well,” you said. “That worked.”
Peter nodded slowly, “Yeah… yeah, it did.”
Something in his expression changed. Peter looked at you. Really looked at you. A small smile tugged at his lips.
He shook his head slightly, “Nothing.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, then leaned back on his hands.
“…I can take you out now.”
“Like—actually take you out,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “In public. As Peter Parker.”
That hadn’t even hit you yet. No more sneaking. No more carefully timed entrances and exits. No more pretending not to know each other in public spaces.
You sat up a little straighter.
“I know,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.
Your mind started running ahead.
Walking down the street together. Sitting in cafés. Holding hands and kissing without worrying about cameras catching something they shouldn’t.
You looked at him again, “…that’s actually really nice.”
His smile softened, “Yeah.”
You smirked, “So technically…”
He groaned immediately, “Don’t.”
“I’m dating Peter Parker now.”
He dropped his head back, “Oh my God.”
“Spider-Man got replaced.”
He turned his head to look at you, unimpressed but fighting a smile, “You’re never letting that go, are you?”
He pushed himself up slightly, shifting closer to you. His knee bumped yours. “You’re annoying,” he said.
“I do,” he admitted easily.
Your expression softened just a little at that.
Outside, the world was already moving on. New headlines. New drama. New distractions. The scandal that felt so huge yesterday?
Peter’s hand slid over yours. You glanced down at your joined hands. Then back up at him.
“…we can actually do this now.”
He squeezed your hand once.
And for the first time since that stupid photo went viral—
Everything felt simple again.
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