"𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗄𝗂𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇"
peter parker x stark!reader ➤ main masterlist
◄ 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 ►𝗇𝖾𝗑𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋
𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝖼𝗊𝗎𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖽𝗁𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝖿𝖿𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 3.4𝗄 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒!
a/n sorry guys it's been so long since i posted for this series, and sorry this chapter isn't that eventful. i'm working on the next chapter rn, and it's a bit more filled with events and dialogue, so I hope you enjoy!
The living room of Avengers Tower was a war zone long before your dad, uncles, and aunts were fighting universal entities. Your textbooks were scattered across the coffee table and on the carpet, flipped across different chapters. Your calculator was shoved between a couch cushion.
You were staring at your laptop, hoping the answer would magically come to you. Biting your nail, you read aloud from the screen. “Thought-provoking. Dr. Gayle said my argument is thought-provoking yet requires further development.”
You looked up, “What does that even mean?”
Kate glanced over her economics worksheet, which she had set upside down. “It means Dr. Gayle hates you.”
“She does not hate me!”
“Definitely does.”
Val chuckled from the opposite couch, editing a documentary from her film study class. “You got a ninety-five.”
“What? There is just no way you’re complaining about a ninety-five.”
“It should’ve been a hundred.”
Thor storms through the living room, heading immediately to the pantry. “Hundred of what?”
“My grade in Dr. Gayle’s class.”
Thor replied as if he knew the teacher himself, “Ah, a dangerous pursuit.” After grabbing his snack, he walked away, back to wherever he came from.
Ned’s voice came from Peter’s phone, “Did Thor just walk in?”
“Yeah,” Peter replied, adjusting his reading glasses.
“God, you’re so lucky.”
Peter just shrugged, running his fingers along the formula sheet. You dropped your head against the back of the couch. Peter sat cross-legged on the rug, chemistry notes scattered around. The sleeves of his Henley were pushed to his elbows.
Peter had changed since you first met him, but not dramatically. He still tucked his hands into his pockets when he was nervous, apologized too often, but at least now he looked at ease at the tower.
FRIDAY’s voice interrupted your thought process. “Mr. Stark, an emergency response has been requested downtown.”
Dad appeared from down the hall. “What we got, FRIDAY?”
“Structural instability on a commercial building following an explosion in Midtown.”
The room went quiet, and Steve emerged. Natasha was already pulling her hair back, and Clint was already running to get his arrows.
Dad walked over to the couch with purpose, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Keep the tower intact, yeah? You know you can always contact FRIDAY if–”
“Yes, Dad, I know.”
He looked over to Peter now, “Heading home, kid?”
Peter’s heart dropped, “Uh...”
“Peter can stay,” you answered before he had the chance.
Your father’s expression remained neutral, “Cool. Now, everybody move.”
The room emptied nearly immediately. Within minutes, the tower was silent.
“Think everyone's alright?”
“They always are,” Kate said.
Val shut her laptop. “They’re superheroes. My parents and uncles are always gone like this, too.”
Peter attempted to regulate his breathing. He stood up. “I should head home. I’m worried Aunt May will think something crazy,” he chuckled. “I’ll call you later, Ned,” he said as he hung up the phone.
“Are you sure?” you asked, looking into his eyes.
“Yeah,” he offered a smile of reassurance.
“I’ll see you guys later.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Spiderman hit the pavement, hard enough to make the concrete crackle. The pain bloomed through his side, and his suit tightened automatically.
“Kid?” Tony asked through the comms. “Still with us?”
Peter forced himself upright. “Yeah.”
“You tryna convince yourself or me?”
“I got thrown at a bus stop, sir.”
"..Fair.”
The villains had been taken care of; the NYPD arrived. People were safe, and everything was fine. Except Peter had promised you he would see you later.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
It was about two hours later when you heard the tower doors open. You looked up from your night, seeing a limping Peter enter. “What the hell happened?”
“Ned and I went skating,” he replied, wincing at every step he took.
“You don’t skate,” you said skeptically.
“We wanted to try something new,” he said as he grabbed his side, the skin pulsing underneath his grip.
You raised a brow before walking over to him. “Don’t try anything new again. Now sit.”
“I’m fine, really–”
“Sit, Peter,” you instructed, pointing at the bar countertop.
Peter was always obedient, and that was not going to stop now. He sat right where you said.
You went to get the first-aid kit from the clinic.
Kate chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Peter asked.
“Your inability to lie.”
Val leaned over, head resting on Kate’s shoulder. “Did Ned survive?”
“What?” Peter croaked out, a bit louder than intended.
“Skating, I mean.” Val clarified.
“Oh, yeah. He’s fine.”
You returned with a small first-aid kit and set it on the counter. You pulled the freezer door open to grab an ice pack.
Peter nearly passed out, yet still had enough pride to say, “You don’t have to do any–”
“You hit your head?”
“No.”
“Dizziness? Nausea?”
“No.”
You propped his knee up on the other stool, pushing it forward. “May I?”
Peter was at a loss for words, so he just nodded. You examined the gash carefully. “You’re an idiot.”
“I’ll take that.”
“Were you wearing pads?”
“... No.”
“Oh my days,” you sighed, gripping his knee tighter. A cackle could be heard from the couch.
You shook your head and cleaned the cut anyway. “What?”
Kate snorted, “You want him to look like a geek?”
“Looking like a geek wouldn’t have me cleaning your knee.” You acted as if you were mad, but you were just upset he hurt himself so stupidly.
All three shut up after that. You pressed the alcohol-soaked cotton swab to disinfect the area, making him wince. “Boys just wake up and think they’re invincible, don't they?”
“Don't know if it's gender specific.”
"Absolutely is.”
You wrapped the joint and pressed ice against it. Peter looked down at your hands, then at the concentration on your face, as well as the irritation.
Your hand went to his cheek, grabbing it to look over his pale face once more. “You need to be more careful.”
“I’ll try,” he said, swallowing a deep gulp.
“Good,” you smiled at him.
Tony walked in ten minutes later, taking a good look at Peter, then you, then Peter.
“What happened to you?”
You sighed, shaking your head. You were sure Dad was going to laugh at Peter’s terrible abilities just as hard as your two best friends were. “Peter tried skateboarding without protective gear.”
“Did he now?” He quirked his brow.
Peter wished Dr. Strange would open a portal below him, swallowing up his embarrassment and lies.
“Yep, now I’m the one taking care of him.”
“Again, I’m fine!”
“Seems unlike you, kid,” Dad said, silently hinting at something you couldn’t put your finger on.
Peter cleared his throat. Dad loosened his tie and started speaking once more, “Speaking of bad decisions, Kenjiro’s coming by tomorrow.”
Your eyes brightened. “What? Really?”
“He’s bringing Akira as well,” Tony finished before he left.
Peter looked up at you. “Who’s Akira?”
Akira was Kenjiro’s grandson and one of your childhood best friends. Although Kenjiro and his kids mainly lived in Japan, they sent Akira as well as his siblings to go to school in the States. On school breaks, Tony would take Akira into the tower, or you’d be sent to whichever house he resided at the moment. You were close as ever until he moved to New Hampshire to go to Dartmouth.
Kate was patting Val’s head, urging her to shut her eyes and rest for a mere moment. “Akira’s her childhood best friend. He moved two years ago to go to Dartmouth, but he visits here and Tokyo sometimes.”
You grinned, rubbing circles around Peter’s knee. “Maybe he’ll finally tell me some good news about school.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
You went to take a shower, leaving the three to themselves in the living room.
“So... tell me more about Akira. I have a feeling I’m going to hear a lot about him here.”
“Well, he's in the same genre as the rest of us, except it’s more his grandfather who’s famous. He’s in college, so he rarely has time to see her. He’s actually quite cute,” Kate explained.
Val hummed against her, “You? Calling a guy cute?” That’s a new one.”
Kate rolled her eyes but continued, “I can show you his Instagram to show what you’re up against.”
That caught Peter off guard. “Oh, well–”
“Calm down, I don’t mean like that. I mean, he’s quite a hard personality to not pay attention to.”
“Right.”
Kate scrolled for a moment before tossing her phone to Peter, which he promptly caught.
“I can tell he’s quite the, uh, dude,” Peter replied, throwing the phone back.
“Yeah, he’s hot, but you know who’s cuter?” Val said, finally getting up from Kate, kneeling on the couch. “Azari T’challa.”
Kate just stuck her arm out and pushed Val, making her fall back on her bottom. “Rude. Anyways, I just wouldn’t get between her and Akira. He’s quite protective of her. And a lot of other women...” She said the last sentence in more of a whisper.
“Noted. Think he’ll like me?”
“If you’re lucky,” Kate answered.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Dinner was not originally part of the plan, or at least as far as you were aware. By 6:30, you traded your Stark Industries sweatsuit for a silk dress while FRIDAY was reminding you that the Fujikawas would be here in fifteen minutes.
The restaurant Dad chose was tucked away in the back of Manhattan. It was covered in dark wood and polished stone. The warm amber lighting reflected across the podium. It smelled of century-old and century old wine.
Peter refused to come, yet a single plea from you got him adjusting his sleeves to the nicest button-downest button down you lent him. He insisted that he did not need to intrude on a business and reunion dinner, but you thought Peter could use a couple new connections.
Dad looked up from his phone, “You’ve been in and out of the tower and around my daughter for months. Intrusion is no longer a concept here, kid.” Then, he went back to answering his infinite emails.
Peter now sat across from you, stiff as a board, trying not to be aware of the fact that he was surrounded by billionaires. Sure, he stopped noticing marble floors and buildings with over a hundred floors after his tenth time in the tower, but this was different.
At dinner, the conversation flowed around international and domestic partnership expansions, stock markets, and many other things few people in the world could replicate.
Kenjiro spoke deliberately, his voice confident due to his decades' worth of experience. Tony interrupted with his dry jokes and ideas that would take years to complete. Neither party was bothered by their habits.
You listened more than you spoke, contributing now and then. Kenjiro regarded your follow-up questions and took you seriously rather than being dismissive like Dad’s other businessmen.
Peter watched in pride. It made something warm beneath his ribs, and he wasn’t really sure why.
Akira arrived shortly after the rest of the group did. Fashionably late per usual. His hair was perfectly slicked back, his suit pressed and tailored perfectly to his lean shape. His watch that Peter suspected cost more than the entire apartment building he lived in back in Queens.
Akira walked in as if he owned the place, which Peter was sure he could. You stood up fast, nearly knocking your chair over. “Oh, my god.”
Akira blinked, his long lashes fluttering. “You cut your hair,” he said, reaching out to twirl a bit between his nimble fingers before pulling you into a hug.
“You noticed that first?” you asked, walking over to the table with him.
“You had a couple more inches last time I saw you,” Akira laughed.
You both laughed, and it softened the sharpness Peter had assumed he had.
Dinner settled into an easy flow soon after. You and Akira were on an odd middle ground Peter was lost about. It wasn’t romantic nor distant, but comfortable.
Your stories with each other were fragments of childhood memories. Peter tried putting some of it together, but they were too scattered. Hiding under tables while Kenjiro and Tony negotiated deals, arguments over toys, naps in escalators.
Kenjiro laughed softly into his drink, happy to see his grandson and his adoptive granddaughter having a great time. Tony pinched his nose, not seeming to remember how much they chatter.
Peter was staring into his glass. A lump in his throat grew, not just because of what you two were saying, but how it was said. There were no explanations for the conversation. You tapped into small talk with Peter now and then, but you were stolen away by your old childhood friend.
You leaned over to steal a strawberry off Akira’s dessert plate without asking, making him scoff before sliding the rest to you. “You still steal my sweets?”
“You still let me,” you grinned, mouth full of whipped cream.
Peter peered down at his untouched creme brulee, the twisting feeling in his stomach intensifying. The flamed sugar wasn’t the only thing starting to crack. Akira was not arrogant nor cruel. If anything, he was the opposite. He was sweet and friendly, even talking about sports with Peter as if they’d been friends just as long.
Peter hated himself for feeling threatened by him. He couldn't point to anything specific, but only the accumulation of small things.
“You okay?” you asked, nudging your shoulder against his.
Peter looked up, and your expressions shifted. It was laced with more curiosity and concern. “You’ve been quiet.”
He managed a small smile, “I’m fine.”
You studied him for a moment, seeing if accepting his answer was the right thing to do. You folded his collar back a bit and flattened the fabric before moving on.
Outside the restaurant windows, Manhattan glowed beneath the night. Peter found himself watching you again and how you moved between both worlds with ease. One of his best friends was a stark heiress. The person who patched up a hero without a single clue.
He watched the edges of your lips turn up as you listened intently to everyone around you, and how the glow of the warm lights made the body oil on your skin stunning. Peter’s cheeks warmed, making him glance down at the folded napkin in his lap. He wasn’t jealous, or at least he thought.
By the time dinner was over, the night was fully settled. Tony and Kenjiro remained near the entrance and were discussing schedules. You stood beside Peter waiting for the car, while Akira was a couple of feet away, having a smoke break.
You bounced on your heels, holding your coat jacket. “You sure you're okay?” you asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“You seem tired.”
Peter’s low, brown eyes looked over at you. “Ever feel like everyone else already knows the rules?”
You hummed, “Not sure, sometimes.”
The streetlights reflected on the sidewalk below you.
“I think most people just pretend they know what they're doing with their life.”
Peter softly laughed, “You really think so?”
“I know so,” you said, poking his arm. “You survived dinner with old businessmen. You can mark that off your bucket list.”
He smiled again, despite himself. But he glanced over towards Akira standing beside Kenjiro, his posture relaxed. His hair remained gelled to perfection. Peter couldn’t shake the thought in the back of his mind.
You weren't his. Not a single bit. But maybe in some way, he was yours.
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
Free period Fridays were the best part of the week. Forty-five minutes of doing whatever you want in your (or anyone else’s) homeroom was bliss. Some would take a much-needed nap, take the time to study, do the homework due the next period, or just hang out. Teachers really gave up on pretending it was meant for studying.
You’d stop by the library sometimes to frantically finish your essay that you had all week to complete while everyone migrated to the common area with coffee. Peter was usually at the table near the windows. Ned was slouching in a chair across from him, head in his hand.
“You look terrible,” Kate noted, setting down her bag.
“Good morning to you too,” Ned said, scrolling on his laptop.
“Peter, you’ve had that look all week.”
“What look?” His brows now furrowed, moving his backpack so she could sit.
“I don’t know, but you should fix it. Are you getting enough sleep? Do I need to ask one of the maids to fix your bed at the tower?” She joked, a hefty laugh coming from her.
“I’m alright, really. Just school.”
Val snorted from beside, a ballet flat propped up on the table. “He always looks like that.”
“‘S been worse,” Ned said, glancing up.
The conversation dissolved into overlapping arguments and old tales until Peter rubbed the back of his neck.
“So...”
They all quieted, awaiting whatever Peter had to say. Kate smiled slowly.
“No.”
“What?”
“No.”
Peter gasped, “I haven’t even asked anything yet!”
“You were about to.”
Ned leaned forward. “What do you want to know about Akira?”
“How do you know him?”
“Did some digging,” he said before shutting the lid of his laptop.
“You’re not subtle,” Val said, nearly wincing.
Kate jumped in, “If you want to know if he’s secretly evil, there are easier ways.”
Peter paused. “I’m not trying to find out if he's evil or not.”
“.. .Do you think he’s evil?”
“No!” Peter exclaimed. “I just.. Don’t know.”
Val shut off her iPad. “What don't you know?”
Peter hesitated, scared to even ask such a thing. “They both have a history.”
Ned shrugged, “I mean yeah, they’ve known each other forever.”
“They’re also both obscenely rich and products of their family's wealth,” Val said, as if she wasn’t the same.
Peter looked down at the notebook on the oak table. “I imagine that’s bonding.”
“They are close,” Kate carefully said.
“But she’s close with a lot of people.”
“Not helpful,” Peter muttered.
Val reached into her bag to get her snack. “Do you want me to say they're secretly in love so you can get over it quicker?” she asked dryly.
“No, not at all,” Peter sighed. He buried his face into his hands. “This is why I don't tell you guys anything.”
“You haven’t said anything, actually,” Ned pointed out.
Kate leaned back in her chair. “For what it’s worth, if she actually liked Akira like that.. We would know.”
Before Peter could speak his mind, someone slid into the empty chair beside him.
“We would know what?”
You balanced an iced coffee in one hand while you had your iPad in the other. “Hello?”
Nobody answered, your eyes narrowing. “What did I miss?”
Before anyone said anything, Val squealed out, “Peter’s investigating Akira!”
“Valeria!” he hissed, putting his face in his hands once more.
You blinked at Peter, then laughed. “You thought Akira was mysterious? He posts his entire life on social media.”
“Well, that still doesn’t tell us enough,” Peter rebutted, making Ned nod.
You sighed, baffled that they would even assume so. “He cried when he was thirteen because they forgot his ketchup with his chicken nuggets. He hates public speaking. He has failed his driver’s lesson twice.”
Peter blinked, “Seriously?”
“He backed into Kenjiro's car. Anyways, the point I'm trying to make is that he’s not everything he seems.”
Kate faked a yawn, tired of hearing about Peter’s secret rival. “Anyways,” she pulled out her phone, “heard about Cassie’s party tonight?”
“Cassie’s throwing?” Your eyes lit up.
“But I said I was going to edit tonight,” Val groaned into Kate’s shoulder.
“You can do that tomorrow. We are all going, yes?”
Multiple yeses went around the table, until we got to Peter.
“We are?”
You looked offended at him. “You think you’re missing out on Scott Lang’s sponsored suburban dumpster fire?”
Ned cackled, “She’s been banned from hosting since New Year's.”
Peter was scared to even ask, “What happened at New Year's? I was in Queens.”
You shook the ice in your coffee, "Best you don't know.”
“You know what?” Kate stood up, slinging her bag across her shoulder. “I'm ready for tonight.”
Everyone agreed.
Friday sunlight filtered through the stained glass of the library, a colorful reflection illuminating across the library. The red and blues caught on the edge of your bracelet as you put your hand on Peter's shoulder.
“Cassie’s starts at nine. You’ll be there.”
Peter stammered, “I don’t really–”
“You do. That’s how we met, remember?”
Peter swallowed thickly, something fluttering uncomfortably in his chest.
You looked back down at your phone. “Oh. Akira texted me.”
His stomach dropped. Ned asked what he said.
“He’ll be there.”
⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔⎊᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔
main cast : @amterasuu @carrotkitten10 @nin0xd @sarkastic1515 @loserinadress @stayingatharryshouse @luciiss9 @swuzzin @vanyaa123 @10iceicebaby @shortcakebbg @b1athanna @ruthlesslydeepthing @po0kiedookie @matildakissesxo @lvlyu @moonjellyfishie @anna-fanfics-4u @1dk-anym0r3 @moonlitparagraphs @spidermanfan1738 @thetorturedwhore @firstclassjaylee
