Late Nights and Close Calls
Summary: You and Peter sneak a bottle of champagne from one of your dad’s - Tony Stark’s - parties at the Avengers Tower. Giggling and hanging out in your room, one quiet moment leads to you almost confessing your feelings to your best friend.
Mcu!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader Fluff 1.2k Words Posted on: 2-19-2025 masterlist
The bass from the party downstairs thrums through the walls of the Avengers Tower, muffled but insistent, like the pulse of New York City itself. You lean against the door to your bedroom, biting back a grin as Peter scrambles to follow you inside and shut the door behind him, cradling a stolen bottle of champagne like it was radioactive.
“I can’t believe you actually went through with it,” you whisper, your voice tinged with awe and laughter. You walk over to your bed and flop down on the mattress, Peter quick to follow.
He turns to face you, his boyish grin equal parts triumph and nervous energy. “What can I say? I thrive under pressure.” He wiggles the bottle in his hands. “Besides, it’s not like Mr. Stark’s going to miss one bottle right?” You know he’s trying to convince both himself and you of this.
You let out a snort of laughter, crossing your legs as you got comfortable on your bed and as Peter sat next to you, leaning against the wall. “I sure hope not. We’re dead if he catches us. And by ‘we’, I mean you.”
Peter smirks, a teasing edge in his voice. “Good to know where your loyalties lie, Stark.”
You roll your eyes, but are unable to hide your smile as you reach and grab two mismatched mugs from your nightstand. One of them has a Spider-Man design on it that Peter had jokingly given you as a birthday present, and he secretly smiled to himself at the realization that you’d actually been using it.
“Here. Fancy drinking glasses for our super-classy operation.”
Peter chuckles and pops the cork with a loud pop, making both of you jump and laugh. Bubbles froth over the top, and he quickly pours some into the mugs in your hands, spilling more than he probably should.
“To bad decisions and avoiding your dad’s wrath,” Peter says, setting the bottle on the nightstand to grab his mug from you, holding it up in a mock toast.
“To bad influences,” you shoot back, clinking your mug against his. You both take a sip, eyes smiling at each other over the tops of the cups.
The champagne was sweet and fizzy, a little stronger than you had expected, but the warmth it brought to your chest was welcome. You scoot over you so you’re sitting next to Peter, your shoulders close enough to touch every time one of you moves.
“This is way better than listening to my dad schmooze with a bunch of billionaires,” you say after a minute or two of talking, tipping your mug towards Peter and resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.
“You mean you’re not interested in talks about stock portfolios and advanced AI?” Peter quips, raising a teasing eyebrow.
You laugh, the sound light and easy thanks to the drink. “Not even a little.”
The two of you settle into a rhythm of a familiar banter and conversation, the champagne loosening any nerves. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed this much. Peter was good at that - at making you forget the weight of expectations, the constant pressure to be more than just the Tony Stark’s daughter.
Somewhere in the middle of a story about one of Peter’s disastrous attempts to ask a girl to homecoming freshman year, you found yourself staring at him. His face was animated, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. The soft glow of the city lights through your window and your desk lamp cast golden highlights in his hair, and his eyes—warm and expressive—crinkled at the corners when he laughed. It was one of your favorite things about him.
You didn’t realize you were smiling until Peter stopped mid-sentence, turning his head to meet your gaze.
“What?” he asks, his voice softer now, the teasing edge gone.
You shake your head, heart fluttering in a way you didn’t quite know how to handle. Damn, this champagne was making it hard to think… it totally wasn’t Peter that was causing your brain to short-circuit, right?
“Nothing. Just… you’re really great, you know that right? I’m glad you're my best friend.”
Peter blushes, looking at his mug and trying, but failing, to suppress a smile. “Thanks, y/n. I’m glad you’re my best friend too.”
He turns his head to look at you again, and your breath catches, the words hanging between the two of you like a live wire. For a moment, you think he might say something more—something that you were also thinking, something that would change your friendship forever.
Another moment of silence passes as you just stare into each other’s eyes. You get a sudden urge of confidence, thanks to the effects of the alcohol neither of you were very familiar with.
“Peter, I–”
A loud boom from outside causes you both to jump, and your heads turn to look out your window, where you see an array of fireworks going off, some in the shape of Iron Man’s helmet. It was as if Tony was listening in on you and purposely stopped you from saying what you were about to confess.
Great timing, dad. Thanks a lot.
Peter laughs awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. “Your dad sure knows how to throw a party,” he turns to meet your eyes, but looks away quickly with a shy smile, still blushing from your almost-confession.
You laugh softly, also avoiding Peter’s gaze and fixing your stare to your mug. “No kidding.” You didn’t know if you were thankful for the interruption or should yell at your dad later for setting off his stupid fireworks. Maybe it was for the better, though; Peter seemed to want to ignore it, so maybe you should too.
What you hadn’t noticed, though, was that Peter had also been staring at you all night, just as much as you were staring at him, if not more.
Thankfully, the effects of the champagne hadn’t quite faded yet, so the awkwardness between you two faded as quickly as it had appeared; something that always seemed to be happening to the two of you.
You bump your shoulder against Peter’s. “Wanna head back out there?”
Peter smiles at you, taking a sip of his champagne. “Nah, I’d rather stay here with you. Besides, I think it would be pretty obvious that we’ve been, you know, having fun up here.”
You blush at the accidental insinuation that Peter had just made, but you knew he only meant that you had been drinking. He seemed oblivious to it though, so you decided not to make a joke about it and spare yourselves any more awkwardness.
“True,” you say with a soft laugh, “I’d rather be here too, anyways. You don’t totally suck to hang out with.”
Peter laughs softly and it’s his turn to bump your shoulder with his, the slight contact almost making you shiver. “Yeah, yeah, you’re not so bad yourself.”
You spent the next hour or two doing the same thing you always did—making each other laugh and testing the hell out of Peter. And, even though neither of you said what you were really thinking, it was okay. You knew there would be other moments—other nights like this where the words might finally spill out.
For now, this was enough.
Thank you for reading! My first mcu!peter fic yay!! I have lots more in my drafts lol, so lmk if u wanna see more of himmmm. Tom Holland was my first ever celebrity crush and I am a MASSIVE Marvel fan, so this Peter holds a special place in my heart :) Again, thanks for readin and I hope you liked itttt! xoxo