summary: your father - Tony Stark, catches you and peter in a heated moment
warnings: making out, suggestive comments and jokes.
word count: 1.4k
The kitchen was filled with late morning sunlight and the smell of espresso pods you forgot to toss out. You were barefoot, hair still damp from your shower, wearing a tank top and some pajama shorts as you stacked clean dishes into upper cabinets.
“Okay, okay, but hear me out,” Peter said, leaning against the counter behind you, voice animated and a little breathless from excitement, “you know that scene in Return of the Jedi, when Luke walks into Jabba’s palace all calm and mysterious, like—totally owning the place?”
You smirked as you shoved another mug into its place and turned to glance over your shoulder. “Yeah?”
Peter nodded so fast his curls bounced. “Okay, so during the mission yesterday—remember the guys we were tracking near the docks? I did that exact walk. I’m serious. Hoodie blowing in the wind, full hero entrance. I even had my hood up like a cape. I felt so cool.”
You stifled a laugh. “And what happened?”
“I tripped over a box,” he muttered quickly, then went right back to grinning. “But before that? I was just like Luke. Big time.”
You closed the cabinet door and turned to face him fully now, drying your hands on a dish towel as you leaned against the kitchen island. Peter was wearing one of your dad’s oversized hoodies that you’d technically claimed a few months ago, but somehow Peter always ended up in it when he slept over. It was baggy on him, sleeves swallowed his hands, and the neckline hung just a little too wide on his collarbone.
Adorable.
He continued rambling, hopping slightly from foot to foot, like his brain couldn’t keep still. “Anyway, then it reminded me of that Clone Wars episode where Anakin and Obi-Wan—well, mostly Anakin—did this thing where they were totally outnumbered but somehow used, like, a cargo crate as a distraction. Which—fun fact—I used yesterday. I webbed a shipping crate, swung it into the alleyway—took out two guys. No lightsabers needed.”
You stepped forward slowly, biting your lip to keep from smiling too much.
Peter didn’t even notice at first, still caught up in his own whirlwind. “And then there was this part where I was hanging from the side of the scaffolding, and it was so Empire Strikes Back. Like, the whole dangling vibe. I was even humming the theme—”
You reached him in three slow steps and gently cupped his jaw.
He paused mid-thought, lips parting slightly in surprise. “Oh.”
You tilted your head, staring at him with a soft look, your thumbs brushing along his cheekbones.
“You’re so adorable, y’know that?”
Peter blinked, then let out a short, sheepish laugh. “Little ole me?” He joked, his smile plastered wide across his face
You didn’t answer. Instead, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.
His hands hovered for a moment before they found your waist, fingers curling slightly, grounding himself in the moment. He kissed you back, deepening it a little with a quiet hum, noses bumping slightly before he smiled against your lips.
Peter was almost breathless, whispering “I think my brain just short-circuited.”
You grinned at him. “You know you love it.”
“Yes, yes I do.”
He kissed you again, longer this time—sliding his hands down to your hips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. The pace quickened, not heated but steady, full of that dizzy sort of affection that comes with knowing each other inside out.
Peter’s tongue traced your bottom lip, and you let him in, your fingers tangling in the ends of his hair. He chuckled into the kiss, clearly enjoying the way your hands tugged just a little.
You gasped slightly when he flipped you around and your lower back hit the counter edge. “Peter—”
“Shhh,” he teased, already kissing along your jaw as his hands gripped under your thighs and lifted you effortlessly onto the marble. You settled there with a breathy laugh, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.
He leaned forward, pressing himself between your legs, his hands rubbing up and down them like second nature. Your hands were in his hair again, tugging, pulling, deepening the kiss.
He kissed you like he had all the time in the world.
“Hey kiddo, have you seen my—”
“What. The. FUCK.”
Your head snapped to the doorway to be met with none other than your father - Tony Stark. His eyes were shot wide, his jaw slightly slacked with his eyebrows halfway up to his hairline. Peter shot up with his eyes full of terror. You didn’t breathe. You both didn’t move a single muscle.
“Peter.” Tony spoke, his eyes remained wide before bringing a finger up as he shut his eyes, his hand shaking as he tried to remain semi-calm. “Get your hands off of my daughter this very instant or so help me-“
Peter’s voice cracked as he scrambled back. “Mr. Stark! I—I wasn’t—It’s not what it looked like—well, actually it was, but not—not in a bad way! We were just…kissing..” Peter finished his sentence with his head hanging low, eyes peaking up at your father who your sure would’ve lit on fire if he could.
Tony stepped inside the room slowly, hand already pinching the bridge of his nose. “You have got to be kidding me.”
“Is this…is this real? Is this my life? On the counter we eat on? Seriously? That’s where I butter my English muffins, Parker!”
“Dadddd,” you groaned, sliding off the counter in shame, even though Peter’s hands had long left your legs.
Tony held up a hand. “No. Nope. I don’t want to hear the defense. I’m invoking my right as a traumatized parent to not know what the hell was about to happen in my kitchen.”
“We were just kissing! We weren’t gonna have se—” you started.
“NOPE,” Tony barked, hands flying into the air. “Nope! That’s it. I need to pour bleach into my ears and gorge my eyeballs out now.”
Peter looked like he was two seconds from crying. “Sir, I wasn’t trying to disrespect your—your kitchen, or your muffins, or your daughter, or—”
Tony’s eyes narrowed like lasers. “Kid. You were halfway to second base on a marble slab I eat toast off of. In MY tower. With MY daughter.”
“I’m so sorry,” Peter squeaked. “It’s just—she kissed me! And then the Force kind of took over and—”
“Are you seriously referencing Star Wars?” Tony was about to blow while he pointed his finger at Peter once again, which your boyfriend reacted with lowering his head like a lost puppy.
You covered your face with your hands. “This is literally the worst day of my life.”
Tony turned to you, eyes wide. “Worst day? I just caught Spider-boy sucking face with my daughter while she was on the damn kitchen counter! I win. I win that one.”
You dropped your hands with an exasperated sigh. “We weren’t doing anything bad, Dad! It was just kissing.”
Tony raised both hands and began pacing like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. “Oh, just kissing, she says. Just a casual little makeout session on my food-prep surface. What’s next? Foreplay in the suit garage? A quickie by the arc reactor? Where does it end?!”
Peter turned bright red. “I swear I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t planning to—”
“Planning,” Tony echoed, stopping dead in his tracks snapping his head directly at him. “There was planning involved?”
Peter looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. “No! I mean, not like—not planning planning, I just meant—”
Tony waved him off. “Kid, I’m two seconds from installing a laser turret in this kitchen that auto-targets your face.”
“Okay, that seems extreme,” you muttered.
Tony pointed at you, all dad fury and caffeine deprivation. “You don’t get to talk right now, Starklette. You looked like you were seconds away from giving me grandkids on a marble countertop.”
You blinked. “Did you just nickname me Starklette?”
Peter coughed into his hand to hide a laugh.
Tony narrowed his eyes. “Was that a laugh? Are you laughing? Is this funny to you?”
Peter shook his head furiously. “No. No, sir. I am so stressed I might throw up.”
“Good,” Tony muttered. “Let that guilt marinate.”
He walked back toward the counter, stared at it for a moment, then grabbed his untouched mug, only to realize the coffee inside had gone cold. He sighed deeply, like the universe personally betrayed him, and headed to the fridge.
“I need a drink. And it’s only 11AM,” he mumbled, opening the fridge door like it had wronged him. “Where’s the mimosa stuff—FRIDAY, make me something that tastes like forgetting.”
Peter looked at you, wide-eyed and whispering. “Should I leave before he starts building a Peter-proof panic room?”
You smirked, nudging him. “You’re fine. He’s just dramatic.”
Tony yelled from across the room, “I heard that, Starklette.”
Peter turned to him, trying one last time. “Mr. Stark, sir, I—I really do love your daughter. I’m not trying to hurt her. I’d never do that.”
Tony paused, standing still for a beat longer than necessary.
He took a sip of his orange juice and stared straight ahead and said dryly: “Cool. Love her from six feet away. Preferably from another borough.”
Peter gave a tight smile. “Copy that.”
You shook your head, grabbed Peter’s hand, and started pulling him toward the door. “Come on, Spider-Boy. Let’s get out of blast radius.”
“Bye, Mr. Stark,” Peter called, voice high and nervous.
Tony didn’t look up. “FRIDAY, make a new house rule: No boyfriends in the kitchen. Ever again.”
summary: you and peter are forced into close proximity during a mission, things escalate
tags: fluff, kissing, whole lotta tension, close proximity, reader is also a superhero
a/n: hiiii if anyone sees this! this is my first fanfic, so i’d appreciate any feedback :p i imagined tom’s peter while writing but any one works
wc: approx 800
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peter’s body was pressed up against your own, causing your masked cheek to be squished against cold brick. “just a tip, bug, warn me next time before you shove me into a wall,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper.
“well, it’s either this or we get jumped by five guys with alien weapons,” peter whispers back, his arm bracing beside your head, caging you in fully.
“why couldn’t we have just…” inhaling softly, “swung away? considering we literally have the ability to do that,” you continue to complain.
peter immediately slaps a gloved hand over your mouth, edging somehow even closer than before. “stop whining. they’re gonna hear you, y/n.”
you huff against his large palm but decide to become silent. the only sounds you could focus on becoming the low schemes of the nearby criminals and peter’s breathing, shaky against your ear.
you can feel him, he’s holding himself completely still. there’s barely any space left between you, one hand was still covering your mouth, and hole the other braced beside your head, pinned in place.
the noise fades, voices start to drift further and further out. the danger feels distant now, like it’s happening someplace else entirely.
peter’s hand slowly drops.
“they’re leaving,” you murmur, as softly as you can muster.
“yeah,” peter agrees, he doesn’t sound like that matters anymore.
you finally manage a full breath in, turning your head slightly to look at his masked-face properly.
peter’s already looking at you.
he’s very close.
way too close for your usual comfort.
your breath catches and it feels so loud in your chest. for a second, neither of you say anything.
“we should probably move,” you whisper.
“probably,” he echoes your words, but there’s no effort of movement behind it.
you don’t make a move to leave the alleyway either.
your hand lifts without thinking, resting against the spider emblem on his chest. it’s a gentle touch, barely anything, but it’s enough to indicate the tension in the air. peter’s gaze drops to where your hand is, then drags back up to your face.
his fingers lift to your jaw, slowly and carefully, giving you time to stop him.
“peter…” you start again, quieter now, weary even uttering his name could break the moment.
“y/n,” he breathes, but he doesn’t sound certain. he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself that this is really happening.
hesitantly, he lifts your mask just enough to reveal your face, the tip of your nose, your lips. he pauses there, lingering, you both know crossing that line means something new for your relationship.
your grip tightens against his chest, pulling him closer.
peter’s now free hand drifts to his own mask. he lingers there longer this time, you wonder if maybe he’s considering stopping. but then he exhales, shaky, and pushes it up just enough to reveal his mouth, his strong jaw.
his breath ghosts over your glossed lips.
it’s noticeably uneven.
“do you want to-“ peter starts, his voice barely there.
you don’t let him finish the sentence.
you close the distance, pressing your lips to his in a manner that it seems you’ll lose your mind if you hesitate even a second.
for a split second, peter stills, your urgency shock him.
then he’s kissing you back.
his hand finds your waist almost desperately, pulling you close as humanely possible to make sure you’re still present, feeling you might disappear if he lets go. your fingers curl tighter into his suit, anchoring yourself to him as his chest rises sharply.
the kiss feels almost desperate, neither of you meant for this to happen, but now you can’t bring yourselves to stop now that it’s started.
it deepens slightly, still careful, still unsure.
for a moment, everything else disappears.
there was no alley, no voices and a forgotten mission.
just peter.
just this.
“y/n, they’re coming back-”
you both jerk apart, fumbling your masks back into place.
peter lets out an awkward laugh, it seems he doesn’t know how to deal with the aftermath of the kiss. “right,” he mutters, clearing his throat. “uh, the mission.”
“yeah… the mission,” you repeat, sounding noticeably off.
“we’ll.. talk about that?” he adds, but this time fails to meet your piercing gaze.
you hesitate, then begin nodding- even though he can’t see the full movement under your suit. “mhm,” you reply gently, but the response doesn’t sound certain.
neither of you seem mention how neither of you pulled away.
or how neither of you are entirely sure you wanted to.
18+ minors do not interact or click the links! Each link contains porn. All links are from twitter. You must be logged into Twitter for the links to open!
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Tobey!Peter
blindfolding you to keep his identity secret
Peter filling your pussy up after you’ve begged for it all day
cozy evening fucking
jerking off bigdick!Peter
riding his face
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Andrew!Peter
showing Peter your tongue trick
Peter loves his alt girlfriend
first time trying anal together
making sure he breeds your little pussy
him cumming all over your body
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Tom!Peter
playing with your sensitive pussy
movie night at Peter’s place
getting pounded in the bathroom
sucking him off while he games
Peter using your pussy to let out some pent up anger
Summary: Y/N and Peter manage to still keep their relationship underwraps but for how long?
Warnings: SMUT
Read Part 1 Here!
You physically recoiled away from Peter, grabbing his hoodie from his hands and pulling it over yourself as you stood straight behind the couch as your dad walked into the room. Nat couldnt help but chuckle at your reflexes.
"We were just talking about Bucky breaking the stove again!" You chirped.
Your dad groaned as he shot daggers to Bucky. "Stop breaking it! This is the 4th time this month, we are only half way through!" Tony rolled his eyes as he walked back into his office.
Everyone burst out into a fit of giggles as Bucky groaned.
It had been a few weeks since that close call but you and Peter had started to date. He took you out to see the stars and confessed. Since then you two have been boyfriend and girlfriend.
Obviously it didnt stay a secret within the compound.
"Wow so you two are actually dating now' Bucky stood above you two on the couch, as you sat on Peter's lap in your cheer uniform.
You rolled your eyes. "Bucky, stop being nosy" You groaned.
Peter pulled you close as he peered up at Bucky.
Bucky reached forward tossing your hair to aside and noticing a large hickey on your nexk "Oh I am telling everyone" He smirked before dashing off.
"Leave it babe.. Its not worth it" Peter shook his head.
You sighed standing up and taking his hand. "You gunna swing me to school" You smirked.
"I'll do anything for you, you know I would" Peter stood up, pecking your lips softly.
AT SCHOOL
"Fuckkk, it was so embarassing MJ" You groaned, running your hands down your face as you looked at her. "Bucky is such a fucking gossip aswell"
"He wouldnt have anything to gossip about if you two clearly didnt attack eachother" She flipped your hair to the side, as she helped you apply makeup to cover up the marks.
"Fuck off" You laughed.
"Sorry im late!! I have the colour corrector!" Gwen sped around the corner, a green colour correcting in her hands as you sighed.
"You're a star Gwen" You smiled.
Gwen and MJ were your closest friends. You and Gwen met through the cheerleading team and you met MJ through Peter. You were happy to have another girl friend who wasn't a cheerleader that you could talk about things other than cheer.
"Do you guys wanna come over, after school? We can get ready for the party together and you guys can come back and stay at mine?"
"Sounds great! Atleast I dont have to stay sober, I can get shit faced and not have to worry about lying to my dad" Gwen laughed.
"Sounds good! Im interested to people watch at this party, theres rumours Flash gets messy and trying to hook up with some of the football team" MJ laughed, causing you all to laugh.
You all walked out of the bathroom, heading towards your class for the day, you passed Peter in the corridor smiling at him softly before turning into your class.
By the time lunch came around you were starved. Not of food, of Peter. You skipped over to the table, where all your friends sat, smiling as you draped your hands over Peter's shoulders, kissing his cheek softly as you hugged him from behind.
"Finally, we were wondering where you were" Peter laughed.
You climbed into the bench beside Peter, snuggling up to him as he wrapped his arm around you, kissing your forehead, as you looked up at him. "Mhm, missed you" You pecked his lips softly.
His thumb caressed your jaw softly as he brought you into a soft short but sweet kiss that made you smile. "Missed you too"
"Ugh stop being all sappy" MJ groaned.
"MJ! They are cuteeeee!" Gwen cooed.
"Anyway, We were talking game plan on the party tonight" MJ cleared her throat.
"Im getting shit faced" Gwen raised her hand. "See if Harry will finally makeout with me"
"Of course he will, your literally the hottest girl here" You scoffed to Gwen, making her smile.
"Peter your coming back to mine, so we can pregame?" Ned asked Peter. His head turned to you, before looking back to Ned.
"Duh, of course! You're hanging with the girls right?"
You nodded. "Yep, theyll come back to the compound with me after school" You beamed.
Peter smiled, as you all engaged in various plans about the party tonight. Who's going to get with who, betting who'll be the most shit faced. Just fun chat to get past lunch.
AT THE COMPOUND
You, Gwen and MJ arrived back at the compound. You and Gwen in your cheer uniforms as you had practice after classes. MJ opted to watch, finding it very interesting for once.
"I was suprised you could do so many spins, I'd get so dizzy" MJ laughed out, as you three came out of the lift.
"Practice makes perfect!" Gwen chirped.
"That you are very right about Miss!" Bucky smirked, leaning against the counter.
"Ugh what do you want, you fucking gossip" You groaned at Bucky, he found your reaction hilarious as he laughed.
"Gossip? Me? No way, I just say what I hear and all I hear is 'yes! Peter yes! the-" You cut him off with his stupid mocking as you threw your bag at him.
"Shut up!" You squeaked, pulling MJ and Gwen up the stairs towards the room lifts. Bucky and You always fought like siblings, he was that annoying older brother you never had and now hes filled that position.
Once you get to your room, MJ and Gwen drop their bags, Gwen running straight to your closet and MJ laying out across the bed.
"Okok! So are we going slutty chic or slutty slutty" Gwen asked as she sifted through your rack.
"I think slutty slutty, why not" MJ murmured. MJ always played devil's advocate, and always had your best (worst) interests at heart.
"So true MJ" You chuckled, joining Gwen in your closet. "Oo what about this" You pulled out an extremely short black bandage dress, a mini body con that definitely fit the 'slutty slutty' category.
"Yes!" Both the girls said in unison.
"Im going to steal this one" Gwen pulled out a cute little blue number, opting for a more colourful slutty number.
"I'll just wear my regular shirt and trousers" MJ laughed as you and Gwen shook your heads, shedding yourselves of your cheer uniforms and getting changed. You could hear music now playing in your room, peeking your head out to see MJ sat at your desk, scrolling your laptop.
"Peter just texted me, him and Ned are on their way!" MJ yelled out.
You were pulling up the dress, fixing it at your chest as you fluffed up your hair, dashing into the bathroom as you leaned towards the mirror beside Gwen rushing your makeup.
"You two are hilarious to watch get ready" You could hear MJ from outside your bathroom.
"This beauty takes precision MJ, your lucky your just naturally gorgeous" Gwen giggled.
20 minutes later and you were all ready and slightly tipsy with the predrinking of the wine Gwen had brought, all 3 of you piling downstairs as you slip on your heels once you were at the bottom of the stairs. A few of the Avengers were sat in the livingroom, now all attention on you three as you came down.
"Where are you ladies off to tonight?" Steve smiled at you.
"Flash is having a party, so we thought we'd grace them all with our presence" Gwen chuckled. Gwen always had a thing for Steve, he knew it found it cute but obviously had no interest.
"Where's Spiderboy?" Natasha smirked at you.
"He's coming" You stood up, smoothing your dress down.
"God what's all the giggling about" Your dad appears across the room, beside the office.
"The girls are going out" Steve smiled.
"Girls night!" MJ cheered.
"Girls night? You guys purposely forget about us" Peter says as he walks into the room, coming straight over to you.
You flash your eyes at him as he peered over to your dad, to which he pulls himself back and leans against the wall beside you.
"Woah.. the Avengers in the flesh" Ned geeks out.
"Come on you lot" MJ laughed.
"Stay safe!" Your dad shouts out, "I'll keep FRIDAY active till your back!"
"Thanks Dad, Love you!" You chuckled, taking Peter's hand and pulling him into the lift.
"They're dating aren't they..." Tony speaks up, looking at Steve, Natasha and a smirking Bucky.
"Yup" Natasha nodded.
"Great" Tony huffed, laughing but shaking his head at teenage antics.
AT THE PARTY
Parties are interesting when its all of you. One minute you are all tipsy from your pre drinks and giggling away at one another - the next moment you are all completely plastered fucking about.
Peter was laughing his ass off as you and Gwen twirled about on the coffee table. Ned beside him, his arm around Betty as they whispered to one another. MJ had found herself buried under a wad of coats after knocking over the coat rack just 30 minutes into your arrival.
Hanging out with them was the best, even better when you all were just embracing life, the moment. Being free with one another.
"Careful" Peter chuckled, taking your hand as he held you step down from the table.
You smiled, stumbling down infront of him as you pecked his lips. Hands interlocked with his as you smiled up at the boy.
"You know, I think everyday - how am I so lucky to be with THE Spiderman" You chuckled, whispering the last part.
"Im the lucky one" Peter smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Ugh stop being sappy you two! You're making me feel sober almost" Gwen groaned. "MORE SHOTS!" She yelled, grabbing your arm ans yanking you away into the kitchen.
The night continued on. MJ found the rest of the group, joining you all for shots. Betty joining the infamous quintet.
If you Dad knew how kuch alcohol was consumed, he would be absolutely raging.
The night drew to a close, you found yourself rubbing Gwen's back as she threw up in a bush while you all waited for an Uber. Ned had opted to head back to Betty's with her, Peter took a mental note to find the details out tomorrow. MJ and Peter were giggling at one another as they stayed on the look out for the cab.
"Let it all out" You cleared your throat as you rubbed Gwen's back, holding her hair with your other hand.
"Ubers here!" MJ sounded, as Gwen stood up and wiped her mouth.
"Hold it in Gwen, please" You begged as you held her into the car.
You four piled into the back as the driver reeled off and headed towards the compound. Gwen's head was against the door as MJ sat beside her. You and Peter squished into a seat as you sat on his lap, his arms tight around your waist.
His lips pressed against your shoulder as you turned to look down at him. "Feels like a century since I've had you Stark" He chuckled, his hand sliding up the side of your neck and pulling you into a deep kiss.
Passion fueled it as you hummed, wrapping your arm around his shoulder as you moved on his lap to get more comfortable.
The pair of you wrapped up in a moment of eachother. Hands grazing over eachothers bodies, tongues dancing against once another as you nipped at eachothers lips - humming in unison.
Too wrapped up to notice the 3 times the Uber stopped so Gwen could puke out the car on the drive home.
AT THE COMPOUND: 3AM
You all stumbled out of the lift, as MJ sat Gwen down on the couch.
You giggled, pulling Peter into the kitchen. His hands on your waist as he stood flush behind you as you filled a glass of water for Gwen.
"God you just look.. fucking gorgeous" His lips founds your neck, sucking at the skin as you let out a soft moan, your hand reaching back to caress his cheek as you leaned into him - humming.
"Pete.. I gotta get this to Gwen" You chuckled, painfully and regrettably pulling yourself away from him and returning to Gwen. He followed you, like a puppy of course.
"Here Gwen" You passed her the water as MJ helped her to drink it.
"You guys can stay over, no way Gwen can go back home like this" You looked to MJ.
"Thanks Y/N" She smiled to you.
You all were pretty drunk but Gwen was wasted and far gone, by the time you guys got back to the compound you had sobered up enough to play nurse.
"Right, lets get you upstairs" Peter sighed, leaning down as he helped Gwen up and started to lead her up the stairs towards the lift to your room. You and MJ in tow.
Once in the room, you went to your wardrobe, grabbing some clothes for them to sleep in.
Gwen and MJ take the shirts from your hands as they go into your bathroom to get changed.
You sighed before turning to Peter. His smile wide as you chuckled, his hand still on your lower back.
"Mhm- help me with the zipper Pete" You hummed, as his hands slid up your back, unzipping your dress as it fell and pooled at your ankles.
You stepped out, your chest bare - braless and a skimpy lace thong. You pecked his lips softly, as Peter smirked. "God.. I'm so lucky" He sighed, sitting on the bed, manspreading wide and watching you look through the dresser.
You peered over your shoulder back at him chuckling. "Very lucky boy" You chirped. Grabbing a loose midtown high tshirt, which was definitely Peter's you pulled it over your head before clumsily pushing the drawer shut, causing your dresser to make a loud bang.
"Whoops" You both giggled, walking back over to Peter, your fingers dances across his shoulders as you snaked them around his neck before straddling his lap as you sighed, hugging him close.
"I love you" You smiled at him, pecking his lips softly as you caressed his face.
"I love you too" He smiled, pecking your lips before pulling you close as you rested your head on his shoulder. His hands softly caressed your back through your shirt, humming as he bounced his knee.
You sighed, pressing soft kisses to the skin of his neck, running your hand up the other side, dancing your manicured nails over his skin.
"Stop teasing..." Peter let out a breath as you smirked, sitting uo right and pecking his lips softly.
A couple of giggles caused you both to turn to the bathroom, where you saw MJ and Gwen emerging.
"You two are so cute!" Gwen cooed. Running and jumping on your bed.
You got up off Peter's lap as he stood beside you. His hands upon his waist as he held you up from behind.
"You guys can sleep here, I'll sleep in Peter's bed" You smiled as MJ got under the covers next to Gwen.
"Don't be too loud" MJ smirked winking at you.
"You can stay hereeee! We wont impose, just watch" Gwen slurred, causing you all to laugh at her.
"Someone's has too much to drink" You chuckled, patting Gwen's head. "Night you two" MJ smiled at you.
You took Peter's hand as the pair of you left your room, shutting the door quietly behind you as you walked down the hallway.
"Isn't it a coincidence your dad keeps us on difference floors of the compound?" Peter whispered.
You chuckled, nudging him as you approached the lift. "Probably because your insatiable" You pulled him in as you pressed Floor 4. You were currently on Floor 2.
Peter stumbled into the lift after you as the doors closed behind him. He chuckled, lifting you up. Instinctively you wrapped your legs around his waist as he kissed you softly, pushing you up against the back of the lift wall.
You hummed, your arms around his neck as you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you. Soft pecks land on his lips, as you tease him.
A shit eating grin plastered across his face as he pushed you harder against the wall, the tent in his jeans pressing into you as you let out a soft whine, eyes locked on one another. Soft pants leaving your mouthes.
Nothing could escalate further as the lift chimed and the doors opened. You pulled away as Peter put you down, you cleared your throat as you took his hand, leading him down the wall. He smiled, interlocking his fingers with yours as the pair of you strided down the hall.
As you got to Peter's door you pushed it open, giggling as you pulled him in. Slamming the door shut behind him, before letting go of his hand as you jumped onto his bed, facing him, giggling.
Peter laughed, leaning back against the door as he stared at you.
You pulled his shirt off your body with a harsh yank, throwing it across the room as you sat up staring at him on the bed. Your hair perfectly framing your body, your chest bare, the tiny bit of lace of your thong peaking between your thighs.
"Fuck.. don't look at me like that" Peter sighed, walking towards you.
"I dont know what you mean" You chuckled, flicking your hair back as you peered up at him, completely bare chested. You reached out for him, pulling him in by his jeans, yanking him forward at the waist as you began to unbuckle his belt, slowly sliding it out and tossing it aside, with a loud clank. You ran your fingers down over his bulge, smirking as you held his gaze. His breathes becoming shaky as you unbuttoned his jeans and yanked them down along with his boxers. Peter gulped, audibly as his bottom lip connected with his teeth as he stared down at you, painfully hard.
You pushed his shirt up, running your fingers over his toned chest, leaning in as you licked from his v-line up to his nipple. "Take this off Petey-"
Which he did before you could even finish your sentence as you shimmied forward, your index finger running up and along his shaft, your eyes locked on his as you wrapped your hand around his cock, your manicure decorating your fingers as you smiled at him. "Such a good boy for me, arent you.." You hummed, pressing the base of your tongue flat against his shaft before placing your mouth over the tip, sucking softly.
Peter's hands instantly went to your hair, tugging it as he bit his lip.
You pulled away, shimming your way out of your thong as you kicked it away before kneeling back on the bed comfortably. You grinded against the air as you bit your lip. "Fuck... you make me so wet Pete" You pulled his arm to sit on the bed as you crawled ontop of him
You straddled his thigh, sighing as you rutted your hips against him, grinding down against his muscly thigh. Your hand, sliding up and down his shaft, jerking him off as you sighed.
"Fuck-" Peter groaned, reaching forward to grab your breasts as he kneeded them between his hands.
You ducked down, taking him whole in your mouth, forcing his full length down your throat as you choked lightly before bobbing your head up and down, your hips matching rhythm with your head as he grinded against him. You hummed against his cock, which he let out a whiney moan at each time.
His hands tangled in your hair as he guided you. Your tongue flat against him as you slowly pulled back, flicking it against the tip, before pulling your head back and perking him off with your hand.
"Mhm.. you like that? Going to be a good boy for me?" You hummed, looking at Peter.
He nodded, a soft whine leaving his mouth as his hand wrapped around your neck, applying soft pressure as he pulled you in for a kiss.
Your hand continuing to jerk him off as you kneeled above him, pulling your heat off his thigh.
His free hand, snaking down between your legs as he rubbed between your folds before dipping his middle and ring finger into you.
You gasped into the kiss, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you squeaked at his sudden pace. You placed your hand on his chest to steady yourself as you matched his pace to yours as you jerked him off.
You broke away from the kiss, your foreheads touching as you panted, his hand tightly lightly against your neck as you hummed, nodding at him.
"Good girl.." He groaned, licking his lips as he held eye contact with you. "Such a good girl f'me, arent you"
You nodded, gulping as he tightened pressure against your neck.
"Fuck-" You watched as his eyes rolled back, his lip quivering as his top two teeth dug into it, letting out a shaky breath. "M'ma cum" He gulped, as you sped up your pace, his fingers diving deeper into you as your eyes widened and you gasped.
Your hand slid to his shoulder as your nails dug into his skin as you squeaked. "Fuck!- Im cumming" Your body quivered as your hips jerked.
The pair of you releasing at the same time, you gasped, Peter's hand tight on your neck as you rode his fingers, riding out your high as he fucked your hand - doing the same.
Peter's hand left your neck as he held your waist, pulling his hand from you as he locked eyes with you.
You shuddered, sitting back against his thighs as you removed your hand from his cock. Staring at him as you both panted.
He held his hand up, glistening with the sky lights outside, as he licked up his fingers smirked at you before placing them in his mouth, sucking them clean before releasing them with a pop.
You hit his chest as you let out a breathless chuckle. "Dirty fucker"
He laughed, pulling you into him, as you snuggled into his chest as he shimmied to yank the covers from under him, pulling them over the pair of you.
"Perfect way to end the night hmm?" He hummed, kissing your forehead.
"Nothing is more perfect than hearing you whine for me" You smirked up at him.
"Don't look at me like that, I'll get hard again" He looked at the ceiling causing you to laugh.
You climbed ontop of him, sitting ontop of his lower chest.
"Get hard again Petey.." You pecked his lips softly, sliding your hand down, jerking his length a few strokes before running his tip along your slit. "Want you to cum in me this time" You whispered softly. His eyes go wide as he stared at you.
"Y-Yeah?..." He gulped, his hands holding your hips instinctively.
"Mhmm yeah" You nodded, sinking down on his rock hard length, as you bit your lip, rocking your hips back and forth with a huffed.
"F-fuck!" Peter cursed, his fingers digging into your waist harshly as you grinded down against him.
"That feel good Peter? You like feeling me whole?" You cooed, your hand caressing his cheek.
He nodded, his face completely fucked out, like he was in a daze as you giggled, speeding up your pace as you pressed your hands down against his chest as you bounced up and down on his dick.
"H-holy fuck!-" His eyes rolled back as he brought his hands up to knead your breasts, holding them as they bounce in his hands.
You leaned down, pecking his lips softly as you turned to licked up his neck, nibbling at his ear, before whispering "Fuck me like you mean it Parker. I want you to fuck me so hard".
With that Peter flipped you over, him now ontop as he lifted one of your legs to rest over his shoulder as he began to slam into you. You yelped, scratching down his back as his pace became erratic.
"Mhmm- Yes! Yesyesyesyes!" You moaned, pulling his head towards you as you kissed him deeply. Your tongue shooting into his mouth as his body collided with yours.
His bed shook aggressively with each thrust, the loud creak of the rusty bed, as the posts scratched against rhe wooden floor. The room full of creaks from the bed and skin slapping of your bodies colliding.
You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you continously let out a high pitched whine. Peter's head buried in your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin as his body recoiled into yours. Grunts and groans coming from him with each thrust as his body ploughs into yours.
A string of loud bangs sound on the wall behind you, that doesnt go unnoticed but the pair of you too wrapped up in the moment you couldn't care less.
"Oh- oh fuck! I'm cumming-" You shriek, your body jerking against his thrusts as you come undone. His thrusts gain faster, his pace quickening, causing the bed squeaks to gain louder and faster.
"Oh fuck!-" Peter groaned, biting his lip as he face scrunched as he gained closer to his high.
"Peter!- I cant-" You groan, your body overstimulated as it uncontrollably shakes under him.
"Fuckkkk-" He threw his head back, his hands on your hips holding your lower body up as he continued to thrust quicker as he came inside of you. Fucking you through your second high as you screamed out, gripping the bars of his bed as his pace began to slow.
He dropped your body down onto the bed, as he hunched over you, panting heavily, one hand on the metal bedpost, supporting himself up as he stared downbat you.
"H-holy.. shit" You gasped, panting heavily as you pushed the hair from your face.
Peter looked down between your legs, pulling out and watching the cum spill from you before collecting it with his tip and slowly pushing himself back into you.
"Pete- I cant-" You pleaded.
He kissed your forehead, pushing deeper as he locked his hips to yours as he layed beside you, hugging you from behind.
"Wanna stay in... pleass baby" He hummed, kissing your shoulder.
You let out a hum, reaching back to caress his hair as you placed your arms over his as you snuggled bag into him, as the pair of you let sleep take over.
The next day you woke up, fucking sore. You had to pry yourself from Peter's arms then let out a guttural moan as his dick slid from you- completely forgetting thats how you ended the night. You looked back to Peter who didn't shift, as you tiptoed into his bathroom.
You had to shower, normally you would after fucking but you mustve been tired.
You sighed as the water hit your skin, humming as you closed your eyes. The steam of the warm water enveloped you as you stood there basking in it.
It wasn't long before you were interrupted by arms around your waist and a kiss to your neck.
"Pete.." You sighed, chuckling as you turned to look at him.
"Fuck.. Let me take you here.. please" His pleading eyes staring into your soul. His rock hard cock rubbing against your back.
Before you could even think your body was speaking for you as you dropped to your knees infront of him.
After your shower and two more rounds of god knows what. You pulled on a pair of Peter's boxers and hoodie. Taking his hand as he finished tying up his pyjama bottoms as he wore his matching Star Wars bottoms and tshirt.
You pecked his lips softly as the two of you got into the lift, going down to the living area.
As the lift chimed, you took Peter's hand pulling him from the lift and down the stairs as you approached Gwen and MJ sat at the island eating a breakfast Steve had made.
"Ooo smelly lovely" You smiled, taking a seat beside MJ as Steve slid a plate over to you.
"Gwen is painfully hungover so I thought I'd make a breakfast for all of you" He smiled. Such a good man.
"Thank you Steve, its so good" Gwen smiled, while munching away at her bacon and egg.
"You sleep well MJ?" Peter asked, standing behind you, arms around your shoulder as his head rested ontop of yours.
Steve slid a plate of Bacon and Eggs to you as you started digging into it. Peter's hands finding its way to your plate sneaking a piece of bacon.
"Suprisingly well! Y/N your bed is very comfy" MJ chuckled.
"Im glad you slept well because I didnt" Bucky groaned, appearing beside Steve on the othersidenof the island, eyebags covering his face as he held a cup of coffee.
"Why not?" You questioned.
Bucky stared at you blankly.
"What?" You shook your head.
"You and fucking Spiderling! Fucking SO LOUD" He groaned. "I don't need to be hearing you both moaning and groaning, and ontop of that hearing his bed!"
MJ snorted beside you, as you grew red hot in the face. Gwen was giggling away and Peter froze behind you.
"To be fair.. you two were quite loud. I think the whole compound could hear" Steve scratched his neck as he let out a soft laugh.
"The whole compound...?" You stopped eating.
"Yes, the whole compound" Your dad stood at the kitchen door. You and Peter froze for a few seconds before scrambling away from one another. "Too late hiding it now, we all heard it. I wouldve rather gone without it.." He groaned.
"Mr Stark- Its not-" Peter started.
"Save it kid. I dont care, nor do I want to know. Just please... keep it down" He grimaced before exiting into the office down the hall.
hiiii i love your writing so much. idk if you take requests or not but i wanted to request something with tasm! Peter and maybe the reader is stuck in a fire and she doesn't know he's spider-man and finds out while he rescues her. And she gets hurt really badly and peter is just losing it. Idk something really angsty with fire haha! Completely alright if you don't wanna write it
nearly lost you | p.parker
note : I am so sorry if this request has been sitting in my askbox for forever! I had a Marauders streak and focused on them a bit but lately I've been missing Peter so I will finally be doing this req! I kind of modified it into her finding out after the rescue. Thank you so very much for trusting me with this, I hope you enjoy!
also there was just a fire in my apartment like a few days ago and I thought I was a goner, so might as well cope by writing this now.
warnings : fire, reader in danger, peter panicking about it, a small argument abt his identity reveal, real heavy angst, themes of death, angst with comfort, so much curse words sorry
You should have seen this coming, probably. Or maybe not exactly this, but Peter has expressed concerns about your 'deathtrap apartment' building many times. Probably also not the best time to be recalling this but—
You argued it was temporary, that it was just so you could finally live independently away from your parents at the cheapest opportunity. It’s close to your job, and a good distance away from Peter’s place. Win win?
It was the most convenient place available, and the arrangements were truly supposed to be temporary but so much happened in between that you didn't have the time to look for a new place.
Between College, your side job, and your relationship—-yeah no chance. A majority of your weekdays were spent slaving for good credits, and a good chunk of your nights were used for work. Somehow in between that, Peter time.
So it all boils down to this.
You had been taking a nap when you heard the first sets of screams down the hallway. The nap was very much unplanned, you’ve been elbows deep in another textbook, reading in advance for the upcoming week of lessons so you can focus a bit more on your job.
You worked as a waitress in some retro-style diner a few blocks away. They’re open 24 hours so you were able to take the graveyard shift while juggling classes.
Peter was very much worried for your lack of proper sleep but you always made up for it on your rest day. He also knew how stubborn you are, so there was no use arguing over your schedule. As unhealthy as it is.
Busy schedule aside, you managed well. You were just studying, but you must’ve dozed off because you woke up disoriented, and there was so much smoke. It was all you could see, smell and taste when you pushed yourself off the couch.
Smoke clouded your vision, you could barely see your apartment through the thick veil of it. You coughed after getting a good chunk into your lungs from the gasp you let out, you instantly try covering your nose and push get up.
You reach the kitchen in a set of rushed steps, almost tripping over your coffee table.
Looking around your kitchen, you grab a dish rag and turn your faucet on (thank god there’s water running this time) to wet it. You squeeze out the excess water and replaceyour hand with the wet dish rag, you allow yourself to breathe through it as you look around for anything worth grabbing before you went.
It was as if a switch had turned in your brain. Fire. There’s a literal fire in your apartment! What the actual fuck!? Honestly, you’ve ran over this situation many times in your head. It’s one of those things you hear about in the news and imagine yourself in the scenario.
But the imaginations pale in comparison to the real thing. Being here, trying to find your way through your smoke-covered apartment.
Because at least then you can turn off the scenarios in your head and you’ll be back to your very safe reality. In here, this is very much real and the danger could very well be right outside your door.
Fuck.
So much for studying, you are so gonna hold this over yourself next time you decide sitting down and studying in advance was a good way to spend your only rest day. You should have just gone to Peter’s.
Also why now? Couldn’t this have happened while you were away at least? You would totally mourn your belongings, but at least there won’t be the need to fight your way out of the apartment.
Oh shit, you lived on the 7th floor.
Where’s the fire? No clue. There’s no use trying to find out anyway, you grabbed your phone. The only thing worth carrying at this point, and headed to your fire escape. You hurriedly climbed on only to look down in absolute shock.
The entire floor below is almost covered in fire, smoke escaping through the windows.
The flames are also big enough to reach the fire exit, your route is blocked. You also did not think trying to run through it would work, must the stairs give up on you on the way down.
You turn to your left and saw the next set of fire escape stairs remain unscathed. Okay, if you hurry now you can break your way into the apartment a few doors down and use their fire escape before the flame swallows it too.
It’s the only option you’ve got left. The stairs and the elevator down are out of commission.
You hardened your resolve and rushed out of your apartment. Your legs are shaking from the panic but you powered through it, this is not the time to trip and fall on your face like an unfortunate horror movie character.
Your door knob felt hot to the touch. It was enough that you recoiled with a hiss at the contact, but you twisted it open anyway, rushing out and feeling the heat on your skin now. You look down the hall in horror to see how close the fire is to your own apartment—it was inches away from your face. You had to step back before you get burnt. You were that close.
If you hadn’t woken up, you’d probably be waking up in heaven next. No time to dwell on that, you turn to the other side of the hall ready to proceed with your plan but stumbled on your way as if the floor had suddenly turned to jelly.
You must’ve inhaled more smoke than you thought before waking up, because your head is feeling light. You hold out your hand to steady yourself, probably flat against the wall. Focus. By pure sheer will to live, you commanded your legs to keep going.
There’s no time to collapse now. You can worry about the state of your lungs later, you just need to get out. So with much effort, you forced yourself to keep going, and you were so close to victory when barely audible, barely there—you heard a baby.
Oh fuck.
Oh fuck indeed, because instead of just proceeding on your merry way to safety, you abruptly stopped and turned to the sound of the cry. It was that instinct again, the one your Mother told you would kill you one day.
She always told you, you should keep your head straight and eyes cast down low. New York streets were dangerous, and the people ruthless at times. She told you to mind your business, to keep to yourself and maybe this city and its people won’t eat you alive.
But you’ve never been one to listen to your Mother.
You didn’t keep to yourself. You saw a boy getting bullied and threw your whole backpack at Flash Thompson. That was how your fates intertwined with one Peter Parker. You didn’t mind your business like you should have.
And your Mother might be right, like she usually is about everything. Because instead of proceeding with your plan, you allowed your sharp ear to pick up where the cry was coming from, walking down the hall to where the sound appears loudest. It was the apartment right across yours.
Who the fuck left their baby alone?
You ran the fastest you’ve ever ran your whole life and slammed your whole weight onto the door. It opened and you ran to the sound where the baby’s crying was coming from. Barely able to see through the cover of smoke and running on pure adrenaline, you picked it up the baby. You thought to cover its face with the wet dish rag but it wouldn’t be enough.
You rushed to the kitchen, tripping on the many toys scattered on the floor on your way. You hurriedly unwrapped the baby’s blanket and grabbed a pitcher of water from the fridge. You took the lid off and dunked the whole blanket inside, making sure it absorbed enough water.
You have no fucking clue what you’re doing, your brain is mostly shut off and you’re running on pure instincts. But you wrapped the baby in the now wet blanket anyway.
You can hear the crackling of the fire and just how warm it’s getting. It’s like being inside an oven, and the heat is rising and rising and rising. You have to get out now..
You grabbed the crying baby and rushed out that apartment only when you did, the flames have reached farther down your hallway that the flames managed to get a lick of your skin. It happened so fast, you barely had time to react and dodge out of the flames’ way. You scream out in pain, your skin sizzling at the contact.
It’s probably small, you hope. But it’s somewhere in your right arm, the pain travelling all the way to your back. You grit your teeth, looking down to find the baby is still crying but otherwise unharmed.
That is gonna be one sexy scar for sure.
You then do your best to rush back to the apartment you were aiming for before getting distracted, only to find that it’s locked. You grit your teeth and try your best to channel your remaining strength and consciousness, before full-on body slamming the door.
It didn’t give the first two tries and the baby’s crying continues to ring in your ears. The fire appears closer and closer but finally, with the third try, you push it open. But you must’ve been too disoriented by all the smoke now, that you lost your footing and landed on the floor.
Like a scene in slow motion, you fell to the floor with all the noise overwhelming your senses and the warmth from the fire wrapping you in a very uncomfortable blanket.
Your body moved on instinct to shield the baby from the fall so you just ended up injuring yourself more, probably applied pressure to your singed skin and just gave yourself a giant bruise as well. You definitely hit your head during it too, feeling like a headache will be paid in full tomorrow if you survive this. Hissing out a curse, you push yourself up and adjusted the baby in your arm.
This is officially the worst day ever.
With a light head and an aching body, you head for the fire exit.
You felt like your soul had escaped your body when it was finally a good feet away, a blue of red and blue swooped int through it. You scream at the shock and jostled the baby in your arms. Holy fucking shit, Spider-Man appeared out of nowhere!
You can feel your tensed muscles relax a bit, but it’s still nto enough. You’re still in the building.
“_____!” Spider-Man called out.
You frown. “Spider-Man?” How did he know your name?
You had no time to ask when he looked down and found a baby in your arms, you blink down at the baby all of a sudden having grown tired of crying, and managed to blurt out a quick: “It’s not mine!”
Why would Spider-Man even care to know that? You cringe at yourself and turn back to Spider-Man. He looks very tensed and ready to jump, which is honestly normal, given the situation. You’re only grateful he’s finally here now.
That doubles your chances of survival for sure. You don’t even remember what he said, or what happened next when your body having recognized your saviour finally decided to shut down.
Last thing you remember was your vision fading as Spider-Man rushed to grab you, or at least you hoped that’s what he planned. Oh, you sincerely hope you did not just drop the baby you were holding as you passed out.
When you came to, you were in a sterile hospital room. What greeted you first and foremost was the blank white ceiling. You had mistaken it to be heaven at first, until you trailed your eyes down and found yourself lying on a hospital bed.
Okay, hospital is better than heaven. You tell yourself with a sigh of relief.
Oh god, how is Peter going to react? You’re not even sure you managed to take your phone successfully, you could have dropped it from all the running you did. And that baby—he better grow up to cure cancer or something. Or something equally amazing. Or just… healthy, that’s good too.
How fucked up would it be if the baby you saved grow up to be some big bad villain for Spider-Man to have one mega battle with?
Your brain is running laps again, it’s something you did to cope with intense emotions and situations. You groan and try to shift in your position only to find your back hurts, like a shit ton. You don’t even wanna know how much of your skin was actually burnt and how badly.
You were halfway into fiddling with your hospital bed’s controls to hopefully raise your backrest higher when the door opened, in came Peter who looks like he had been losing a full week of sleep.
His eyes widened at the sight of you awake and moving about. You managed to plaster on a giant grin, greeting your boyfriend like normal, like you weren’t currently bedridden. Peter rushed to your bedside in an instant, crossing the distance in a hurry.
“_____,” he called out and you felt yourself melt, he must have worried so much when he heard about Spider-Man saving you from a burning building.
“Hey,” you greet him and take in the bags under his eyes. “How long was I out?”
Peter heaves a tired sigh, his hand reaching for your face. Caressing your cheek lightly, as if to prove to himself that you were real and you’re very much here, alive.
“2 days, you inhaled too much smoke and you got third degree burns on your back.”
You cringe at that answer, the extent of your injuries just now dawning on you. Well, a burn scar is a small price to pay for having survived with your life. And of course—
“The baby—”
He cut you off, “Safe. The Mother was very grateful, she was just down to get her laundry, she didn’t think the short time she was away that a fire would break out.”
Still shouldn’t have left her baby alone, you thought bitterly but you’re just glad the baby is safe in the end.
There was a short moment of silence. The reality of it probably settling in, for both of you. You just survived a fire, not without injuries, and he probably worried so much he lost 2 whole days worth of sleep over your well-being.
You grab his hand on your face and bring it down to settle on your lap, yout thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. Peter has been your boyfriend since high school. You’ve been together for almost three years now, and you can always tell when he has something eating away at him.
He looks almost the way he did when his uncle died.
“Peter,” you called out, testing the waters, “what’s wrong?”
He hesitated, inhaling sharply. Then retracted his hand. “It’s my fault.”
Your eyebrows stitch into a frown, scoffing at his words. “Unless you’re about to confess your arsonist tendencies, then I doubt it was your fault.”
That was one of his flaws, he always took on so much. So much work, so much blame. He didn’t even know! How could any of you know that a fire would just start one random afternoon? Hell, even if you had predicted it, it still would not be his fault.
He was at work, taking pictures of Spider-Man or whatever it is Jameson has him doing this time. He was nowhere near the apartment, and even if he was, it’s not like he can swoop in and save the day.
You actually preferred that he was away. That is was just you. You don’t think you would have reacted as well as you did if Peter was there, because you would worry too much over him and most likely panic and just endanger yourselves more.
You said those words as half jokes but he seemed very much affected either way, you try and reach for his hand again but he avoided your touch. Okay…
“What’s going on?” You ask, wondering what on earth could he be thinking. Just how could he spin this to be his fault?
“I should’ve gotten there faster,” Peter mumbles, barely enough for you to hear. But he said it with that defeated expression of his, like he carried the sky and it was up to him to keep upright must it all come crashing down on you all.
You cannot fathom it. “And then what? Just put us both in danger?” Because realistically, what could he have done? He’s no firefighter, and there was no way he can rush to the seventh-floor and save you.
“No, it’s—” Peter abruptly stopped, letting otu a sharp exhale of frustration. Your frown only deepened, what’s going on? Why is he so angry? “I should have been there. But there was this robbery nearby that I had to stop first and—”
You stop listening after that, did he just say he stopped a robbery? You know your Peter. He’s someone who kept his head down… mostly, he knows how New York and its people worked. But he always lectured you on safety, especially at night.
So what is he saying about stopping robberies now? None of it is makign sense. Perhaps you truly inhaled too much smoke.
“---I almost lost it when I saw you still inside the building.”
You try pushing yourself up again, sitting upright now to face him with a conflicted look on your face. You take in his words, although confusing and how defeated he looks. You carefully choose your words before speaking again.
“Peter, I know it was scary. You almost lost me, I would be terrified too, if the roles were reversed but… you couldn’t have helped. I was only lucky Spider-Man showed up last minute. But I’m okay, I’m here.”
Peter was not at all comforted by your words. “But that’s exactly it! I showed up at the last minute—”
It was like a chord was snapped. You blinked once and everything came rushing to you. Oh my fucking god. There was no way but—the timing lined up too well, all the missed dates makes so much sense now, and the mysterious bruises. He had used the Spider-Man excuse, saying he had to be onsite to snap pictures.
It was for his job, but that was only half-true.
Oh my god, your boyfriend is Spider-Man.
Well, maybe there had been signs all over. But it’s not like you wanted to dive head first into believing that yes, your boyfriend, your sweet, adorable Peter, is the vigilante in red and blue spandex swinging around the city saving civilians.
What kind of crazy person would you be if you just assumed that?
In hindsight though, it makes too much sense now. Only Peter would have the heart big enough to put on that mask and go out every night to look after the people of New York. Only Peter would have the conviction strong enough to be a… a superhero.
“Holy shit,” you breathed out in exaspheration, “holy fucking shit, Peter.”
Peter’s entire body froze as he took in your expression. Shell shocked, your eyes blown wide open as you slowly lift your head to look at him. As if you were finally seeing him for who he is, for all he is.
He’s not just Peter anymore. He’s also Spider-Man, and he was too late.
He came way too late. You had gotten hurt and he almost didn’t make it in time.
“Shit…” you are probably cursing too much, but that’s the least of your worries when your whole world had just turned upside down. “Oh god…”
Peter is not sure whether that reaction is positive or not. He cannot get a read when you’re raining curses while looking like you are going crazy, he moved on instinct to put both hands on either sides of your shoulders.
“____, breathe,” he tells you inn a soft voice, trying to calm you down must you trigger a panic attack from his unprompted identity reveal. “It’s just me.”
Oh but it’s really not. It’s also Spider-Man now. And you’re gonna have to take some time to sit down and process that your Peter is the very same hero swinging around fighting villains and stopping crimes.
Is that what he’s been doing all this time? Of course it is, and you were oblivious to all of it. You didn’t know—why now?
“Were you ever planning to tell me?” You ask, not sure if you wanted to hear the answer.
“I wanted to keep you safe, away from all this. From Spider-Man and all the danger.”
You nod slowly. You know Peter too much, much more than he probably knows himself, so it was safe to assume that—”But you just learned that danger will come anyway, whether I know, or I don’t.”
Peter’s silence was the confirmation you needed.
Peter fell forward, grabbing your face in his hands and levelling his gaze with yours. You look into his doe brown eyes, unable to get angry. Were you even supposed to? You’re not entirely sure.
You’re entitled to being pissed that he hid an entire other identity from you, for three whole years, or probably more— Spider-Man has been around for four years. But you can’t get angry, because you hold too big of an understanding for everything involving Peter.
You will always choose to understand him, no matter what. Because you love him. That’s right, you… “I love you,” you tell Peter. A reminder to him and yourself, and his hands on your face trembled at the declaration.
He was afraid he wouldn’t get to hear it again. First, when he almost lost you to the fire. And second, when he revealed the truth that he had been lying to you all this time.
“I love you,” he repeated.
And you know he means it.
the end. masterlist
end notes: funnily enough, I actually ended up saving my neighbour's kids. My wife and I knocked on their door and the parents were away, leaving the grandma with the two kids and one infant. The grandma carried the baby, whilst my wife and I carried one kid each out of the building. I am still very much shaken by it, sometimes I'd be sitting around and smell that same burnt rubber smell again and go into panic mode. Otherwise, we're fine and unharmed. Also sorry if I'm rusty, been a while since I properly wrote an x reader. Please be merciful.
SUMMARY
↳ Peter Parker is sweet. The kind of sweet you can't get enough of. It kind of ruins your life.
One day, during lunch, it’s the same as any other. You three are sitting together, not really eating your food, too focused on talking. Then, Peter speaks up, and it kind of throws off your whole existence.
“Did Liz get a new top?” His face is resting on his hand as he stares at the girl. You’ve always thought Liz was pretty, and what makes that even more unfair is that she’s nice. She helped you find your way to your class on time, and you have a bad habit of being willing to die for people once they show you even the smallest amount of kindness.
pairing: tom!peter parker x fem!reader
warnings: just reader having to watch the person she loves not love her. so basically all of us with our fav fictional characters
tags/notes: MAJOR pining on reader's side, (not actually) unrequited love, 7k of this is just straight yap my bad, happy ending!
wc: 8.5k
Peter Parker is a sweet boy.
He always has been. Even when people shunned him for no reason, he never shed that kind demeanor. He has remained unwaveringly gentle and compassionate.
Your first interaction with him is simply asking him for a pencil. You’ve just rushed into class, barely making it before the bell rang. As you fumble through your bag, you realize you forgot to pack a pencil. Hesitantly, you turn to the boy sitting next to you.
"Hey, uh, do you have an extra pencil I could borrow?" you ask, trying to sound casual.
Peter looks up from his notebook, his eyes meeting yours with a friendly, albeit slightly surprised, expression. He quickly reaches into his bag and hands you a pencil.
“Uh, yeah. here,” he smiled unsurely, handing you a pencil.
“Thanks,” you smile. You notice how he keeps his gaze on you for a moment before turning away.
The rest of the class goes by smoothly, thanks to Peter's pencil. As the teacher drones on, you can't help but sneak glances at Peter, noticing his focused expression as he takes notes diligently. There's something about him that draws you in—a quiet determination mixed with a genuine kindness.
When the bell rings, you suck in a breath and turn to him. “Hey,” you start, extending your hand holding his pencil. “Thanks for letting me borrow it.”
Peter takes the pencil, his fingers brushing against yours. “Uh, yeah. Yeah! No problem.” You think the way he stumbles over words is pretty cute.
Time to be bold. Go for it, [Name]! “Can I sit with you at lunch?”
Peter's eyes widen slightly, caught off guard by your request. He hesitates for a moment, then nods with a shy smile. “I just, I don’t really sit with anyone and you seem nice so–”
“Yes,” he blurts out, wide-eyed. “That’s cool.”
You feel a mix of relief and excitement. “Okay, see you then?”
He nods, a little late. You smile and walk off to your next class, feeling buzzy. You really are looking forward to knowing Peter.
You didn’t really notice him before. He was always in the background, never too far but never too close. He was just a boy you didn’t know, but knew of. But you saw, saw how he was always there, saw how he held the door open for others, saw how he kept his head down and never bothered anyone.
As you anticipate lunch, you imagine conversations, shared laughs, and maybe even a little bit of awkwardness, but in the best way possible. The anticipation grew with each passing period.
Woah, maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. He might think you’re, like, weird. You really hope he doesn’t.
As lunch finally approaches, you gather your things and head to the cafeteria, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You scan the room, looking for Peter, and spot him sitting not alone at a table near the window. There’s a boy next to him. His friend probably (who else would it be?). Taking a deep breath, you make your way over.
"Hey, Peter," you greet with a smile as you reach his table.
Peter looks up from his tray, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Hey," he responds, a bit more confidently than before.
You turn your attention over to his friend, who is looking at Peter, a bit surprised. “Hello.”
“Hey,” he greets you, discreetly elbowing Peter. “I’m Ned.”
“[Name],” you say.
“Why are you sitting here?” he asks bluntly. You blink at the abruptness of it as Peter hisses, “Ned!”
“Uh,” you stutter, suddenly feeling out of place. “I can go if you want–”
“No!” yelps Peter. “He’s just being stupid. What he means is that, well, we don’t really have any friends. But we’d–” he spares a subtle glare at Ned, “–like to be yours. If that’s what you want.”
His eyes bore into yours earnestly. “Please stay.”
You pause for a moment, processing Peter's earnest plea. Ned looks a bit sheepish now, realizing his bluntness may have come off the wrong way. You glance between them and smile, feeling your nerves ease a bit.
The three of you start chatting, and you quickly find yourself laughing at their silly and nerdy jokes. You learn Peter is really into science and chemistry.
“You know Peter has an internship at Stark Industries?” says Ned, leaning in.
Peter stares at Ned hard. “Oh, really?” you hum.
Peter quickly tries to downplay it, waving his hand dismissively. "It's not a big deal, really. Just a lot of organizing and data entry," he says, clearly trying to stay humble.
You shrug. “I think it’s cool.” You do, you’re impressed.
A hint of a smile crawls on Peter’s face.
When the bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, you feel a pang of disappointment. But Peter looks at you with a hopeful expression. "Um, do you want to sit with us again tomorrow?"
You stare at him earnestly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Okay,” he nods, more so to himself. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow.”
From then on, you become a part of their group, officially Peter’s friend. You learn that Peter is not just smart, but also incredibly kind-hearted. He always goes out of his way to help others, even if it means sacrificing his own time. The bond between you strengthens, and soon you're sharing inside jokes and stories about your classes.
You somehow manage to land yourself a spot on the Academic Decathlon (no, not because Peter’s on the team). But, to be honest, you wouldn’t have tried if not for him. You’ve never considered yourself all that smart, you don’t really try that hard in school. Peter says you’re ‘naturally smart.’ You never gave it much thought, but a compliment from him makes you happy.
“You got this,” Peter assures you before every practice.
One day, during lunch, it’s the same as any other. You three are sitting together, not really eating your food, too focused on talking. Then, Peter speaks up, and it kind of throws off your whole existence.
“Did Liz get a new top?” His face is resting on his hand as he stares at the girl. You’ve always thought Liz was pretty, and what makes that even more unfair is that she’s nice. She helped you find your way to your class on time, and you have a bad habit of being willing to die for people once they show you even the smallest amount of kindness.
“No. We’ve seen that before, but never with that skirt,” replies Ned.
Liz waves at a couple of girls that greet her. You think her voice is pretty.
“We should probably stop staring before it gets creepy though,” notes Peter, still looking at her.
“Too late,” comes a voice at the end of the table. A girl, unbothered and doing her own thing. Oh, that’s MJ. “You guys are losers,” she says, unapologetic. “Except for [Name]. Hi, [Name].”
You wave at her. “Hi, MJ.”
Peter raises his hand in confusion, looking at you for answers. You shrug, not having any. That’s just how MJ is.
“Well, then why do you sit with us?” asks Ned.
MJ flicks her hair out of her face. “Because I don’t have any friends.”
And ain’t that the truth.
“Let’s move to the next question,” hums Liz, flicking through index cards. “What is the heaviest naturally-occurring element?”
You’re not really paying much attention to practice, even though you really should be. You’re too busy staring at Peter.
“Peter, it’s nationals,” you hear. “Is there now way you could take one weekend off?”
Wait, Peter’s not going to nationals?
“I can’t go to Washington. If Mr. Stark needs me, I have to make sure I’m here.” Well, you do like a man who has his priorities straight.
“You’ve never even been in the same room as Tony Stark,” says Flash, doing absolutely jack shit across the room. His voice grates your ears.
“Wait, what’s happening?”
“Peter’s not going to Washington.”
“No, no, no, no.” Felt that.
“Really? Right before Nationals?” asks Liz, wincing at him disapprovingly.
“He already quit marching band and robotics lab,” hums MJ, reading her book. Your fellow members turn to look at her. You know that, but why does she? “I’m not obsessed with him. Just very observant.” Well, you are obsessed with him. Just a little. A healthy amount.
Liz says something to Flash, and at the mention of him you automatically zone him out. You spend the time staring at Peter, who briefly glances at you before looking behind him at the ticking clock.
The rest of the day he’s tapping his fingers against the desk and moving his leg up and down. You barely manage to catch him at the door before he runs off. Peter looks at you, momentarily startled as you catch up to him. He gives you a quick smile, though you can tell his mind is elsewhere.
“Peter,” you say, frowning slightly. “Why aren’t you coming?”
He shrugs, trying to appear casual. “You know already, [Name]. The internship is really important. I gotta be ready at any time.”
“Tony Stark can’t spare you one day?” You raise a brow at him. “I think that goes against some kind of labor law.”
Peter furrows his brows, taken aback. “No, it’s not like that,” he defends quickly, shifting uncomfortably. “Mr. Stark… relies on me. I don’t wanna let him down.”
You give him a sympathetic look. “You’re really smart, Peter. There’s no way that’s possible.”
His gaze softens, smiling secretly to himself. You lightly punch his shoulder, and he gives you a mock offended look. “You’re the whole reason I even joined, and now you’re bailing on the most important day? Fake friends, I swear.” You’re mostly joking, it’s not that big of a deal. But you still would’ve liked him to be there with you.
He chuckles softly, rubbing the spots you hit him (dramatic, you barely touched him). “You’re smart, [Name]. You don’t need me.”
Yeah, you don’t need him, but you want him.
He grabs your hand and squeezes it tightly, briefly, before turning and walking away. “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”
Your heart skips a beat, at both his gesture and his words. “Okay,” you say softly, knowing he’s already gone.
“Hi. I’m Captain America. Whether you’re in the classroom or on the battlefield…”
You wonder how they convinced this guy to stand in front of a camera and yap to a bunch of high schoolers who just simply don’t care. Peter and Ned are mumbling about something, too hushed for you to hear.
“Isn’t he like a war criminal, now?” you mutter. Peter leans in to you to hear better.
He chuckles softly, breath tickling your ear. His proximity sends a warm shiver down your spine. “Sucks, he’s kind of cute.”
Peter chokes, looking at you in surprise. “In, like, a celebrity crush kind of way,” you shrug.
Peter’s face flushes a soft pink, and he clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah, um, I guess? I didn’t think you’d like older guys…?” He trails off, fumbling with his fingers. His awkwardness only makes him more endearing.
Ned snickers beside him. “You’re not wrong. Captain America’s got that whole classic charm thing going on.”
Peter shoots him a look. “Dude.”
It’s only natural you and MJ pair up for the exercises. Though, to be fair, you’re not really doing much exercising. Instead, you’re too busy ogling Peter.
“You’re down horrendously bad,” says MJ, unapologetic.
You blink, looking down at her. “Huh.”
“You know what I’m talking about.” She looks unimpressed by your attempt to seem unaware.
The way Peter effortlessly does pull-ups is doing something to you, and it’s really embarrassing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you do,” she snorts. You watch as Peter flicks his attention over to… Liz. Always Liz. Never you.
“Is he staring at her again?” MJ asks, looking over. Your heart sinks a little.
“Doesn’t matter,” you mutter. “He’s just my friend.”
MJ raises an eyebrow, studying you for a moment before shrugging. “If you say so.”
“Peter knows Spider-Man!”
The entire gym looks over at Ned and Peter. Um. What was that, Ned? Peter gets up, sputtering and denying Ned’s claim.
“They’re friends,” says Ned.
“Yeah, like Coach Wilson and Captain America are friends.” Your nose scrunches up at Flash’s words. MJ catches it and nods her approval.
Peter glances around nervously, his eyes meeting yours for a split second before darting away. You feel bad for him, even if he doesn’t have need for anyone’s pity. Peter is cool, and really smart. He’s also really cute, and he bites his lip when he’s focused on something. He can’t sit still for very long, and he has a bad habit of running his fingers through his hair when–
Yikes, girl. Focus.
Wait, Liz’s party?
“Yeah, I’m having people over tonight. You’re more than welcome to come,” she nods, demeanor kind of shy.
“Having a party?” Peter’s voice is breathy, and it makes your fingers clench.
The bell rings before Peter can decline (or accept, because why would he ever decline?) and Liz spares him a look as she walks away. Peter looks up at the ceiling in frustration, turning to Ned to snarl something at him.
Probably upset because Flash made fun of him in front of the girl he likes, you think miserably.
You help MJ up off the floor, waving her goodbye as she leaves. Your legs are barely able to talk you towards the door, wanting to go over to Peter. You can’t take your eyes off him, but you know you have to, so you tear them away and walk out.
As you walk away, you can't help but feel a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. Peter's feelings for Liz are clear, but you can't deny your own growing affection for him.
“[Name]!” Peter’s voice is very recognizable (to you at least). You hear his footsteps rush over, coming to a stop by your side. You turn to face him, your heart pounding. "Hey, Peter," you say, trying to sound casual.
He looks at you, his expression a mix of frustration and something else you can't quite place. "Hey, uh, I just wanted to say... about what Ned said earlier. I mean, he's just being, you know, Ned."
You nod. “It’s okay Peter, I think it’s cool you know Spider-Man.” Everything about him is cool.
Peter’s eyes widen slightly at your words. "Really? You do?" He seems both relieved and surprised by your reaction. He crosses his arms, trying to seem casual. “And, uh… what do you think about Spider-Man?”
Peter's question catches you off guard. You stare at him, a bit taken aback by his curiosity. “Well, I think he’s a hero,” you shrug. “Reliable.”
Peter kind of… stares. In awe of you. Then he snaps out of it, cheeks flushing as he looks down.
He clears his throat, changing the subject. “So, uh… you going to Liz’s party?”
You hadn't considered it, but the idea of spending more time with Peter, even if Liz is there, is tempting. Even so…
You purse your lips. “Probably not.”
He furrows his brows. “What? Who am I gonna go with?”
You snort. “Ned? Who else?”
“You.” He says it so absolutely it almost makes you fall to your knees. The idea is both thrilling and a bit nerve-wracking. The last thing you want is to feel out of place at a party, especially with your growing feelings for Peter.
“You want me to go with you?” you ask, trying to sound nonchalant even though your heart is racing.
Peter nods earnestly, his gaze locking onto yours. “Yeah. I mean, if you’re up for it. It’d be… nice.”
“I’ll… think about it.”
Peter’s face brightens up instantly, a mixture of relief and excitement evident. “Ok. Cool! I’ll, um. Hope to see you there.” And then he’s off to do his own thing.
When you arrive at Liz's house, you immediately spot MJ, and it puts your mind at ease. She’s in her own world, happy to snack on the foods there. She looks up as you approach.
“Sup.”
“Hi.”
You stand together awkwardly. Well, you’re awkward, and she’s cool. The party is in full swing, with music playing and people milling about, making the large living room feel even more crowded.
It’s embarrassing how fast you spot Peter. It’s as soon as he arrives. He’s decided to keep it casual, but you think he looks good. Really good. God, MJ was right, you are down bad.
Speaking of which, she nudges you and nods her head in Peter and Ned’s direction. “You should go say hi to him.”
“But…” Liz is there. To be fair, she’s probably only greeting them. Saying ‘thanks for coming’ you know. But even so… you’re not sure you want to watch Peter’s attention stay on Liz when you’re also there.
You take a deep breath and muster up the courage to approach Peter. MJ gives you a supportive nod, and you make your way over to them.
“Hi, Peter,” you greet, trying to sound casual despite the fluttering in your chest.
Peter turns to you, his face lighting up with a genuine smile that makes your stomach flip. “[Name]! You’re here.” His eyes are warm and welcoming, and for a moment, you forget about the rest of the party.
You nod, peering around him to greet Ned. “Hi, Ned.”
He gives you a small wave. “Hey, [Name].”
Peter's smile widens as he steps a little closer to you, clearly excited that you're there. His eyes roam your figure. “You look good.”
Your face warms. “Thanks. You too.”
“Dude. Peter,” says Ned, grabbing Peter’s arm. He begins to pull Peter away. “Sorry, [Name]. Gotta talk to him about something.” Peter looks affronted by Ned’s behavior, sending an apologetic glance your way.
You watch as Peter and Ned head off to the side, leaving you standing by yourself. A little awkwardly, you try to blend in with the crowd, scanning the room.
“Penis Parker, what’s up?”
Ugh, Flash. Who let him on the sound desk? He says a few mocking words, and suddenly Peter’s walking off somewhere.
You jog to catch up to him. “Peter, please don’t listen to Flash. He’s just an asshole.”
Peter stops in his tracks, looking back at you with a mixture of surprise and frustration. He opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it, clearly struggling to find the right words.
“[Name],” he starts, voice honey sweet, “I’m not worried about Flash, I just…” He looks around for a moment, searching for whatever words he wants to say. “I gotta go do something. I’ll be back.”
You watch as Peter rushes out of the house, deflated. You feel a mixture of concern and confusion. The party goes on as if nothing happened, but your thoughts are entirely focused on him.
In a moment of impulsiveness, you decide to follow him. The cool night air hits you as you step out onto the porch, scanning the surroundings for any sign of Peter. Damn, where did he go? He’s fast. You walk down the front steps, glancing around. “Peter!” you call out, trying to catch his attention.
A movement catches your eye. Around the side of the house, on top of the neighboring ledge, there’s someone there. Your ears can barely pick up the rustling of clothes. Weird place to change clothes. How the hell did that guy even up there?
Wait a damn minute.
That guy is Peter. How the hell did he get up there so damn quick?
You keep yourself pressed against the wall, peeking around the corner. Why the hell is Peter even changing his clothes? He looks fine. Good, even. Wait, he’s changing his clothes. Maybe you shouldn't be spying on him, that’s weird. Oh, wait, he’s wearing something underneath. Something red and black, with web patterns on and a spider symbol on his chest.
…
Oh. Oh!
What the fuck!
As Peter pulls his undershirt off, you get a glimpse of him in his full Spider-Man glory. Holy shit, Peter Parker is Spider-Man. You knew there was something special about him, but this? This is a whole different level. The red and black suit, with its sleek, form-fitting design, is unmistakable. The spider emblem on his chest is a dead giveaway.
You swallow down the knot in your throat, willing your body to turn and go back inside.
He doesn’t come back.
You leave when Flash starts his ‘when I say Penis, you say Parker’ chant.
The yellow blazer feels tacky, but you’re required to wear it as part of the Academic Decathlon. Though, MJ isn’t wearing hers, so maybe you can get away with taking it off until you get to D.C.. But MJ is MJ.
“Hey, it’s Peter!”
What.
You turn around, seeing Peter run up to your group. Peter’s face is bright with excitement as he approaches your group. His usual nervousness is replaced by an eagerness you haven’t seen before. It’s like a different side of him is on display.
“I was hoping I could rejoin the team,” he says, looking at Liz.
And he’s welcomed back with open arms. He decides to sit next to you. You’re pretty sure because it’s closest to Liz, and because Ned has decided to sit in the back. You wonder if Ned knows his identity.
He nudges you with his arm. You’re snapped back to reality, looking at him. He’s staring at you, brows furrowed just the smallest bit. You feel your traitorous heart skip a beat, like it always does when he’s around.
“You okay? You’re quiet,” he murmurs, voice low.
You manage to nod, not having much to say. Are you mad that Peter kept this secret from you? No, of course not. There was never any obligation for him to tell you, or even anyone. It’s a pretty big secret to have, after all. Though, now you wonder if him being Spider-Man has something to do with that Stark internship…
Peter’s eyes linger on you, a mix of concern and curiosity. You can sense he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling. It’s a little uncomfortable, you’ve never really had to lie to him before, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to. You’ve just discovered one of the biggest secrets in your life, and it’s about someone who’s become so important to you.
His phone starts ringing. You peak at it, someone by the name of ‘Happy’. Weird name, but okay. He moves to the back of the bus to take, settling in next to Ned.
You sigh, slouching in your seat. You can’t believe your life.
At least you get to room with MJ. You’re just about to fall asleep when Liz comes knocking on your door, saying that she and the rest of the team are going to sneak down to the pool. MJ decides she’s going to come. For ‘enrichment’ she says. You on the other hand… kind of just want to stay inside right now.
Until another knock on your door rouses you from your would-be sleep. Again . You grumble as you make your way to your door, opening it to find Peter, his face a mix of uncertainty and hopefulness. “Hey,” he says, looking nervous. His hood is over his head. You think he’s got his suit under there.
You don’t bother trying to fix up your appearance since you truly doubt he doesn’t see you like that. “Hello?”
“Uh,” he mumbles, gesturing away from him. “You… weren’t with the others. Are you not going to go with them? To the pool?
You shake your head. “No, not feeling it.”
“Oh,” he nods, like it was obvious. “Are you, sick or something?”
“No.” You don’t mean to be blunt with him, but you don’t really know how to act around him anymore.
“Oh, Okay.” He shifts back and forth on his feet. “Can I come in?”
You open the door wider to let him in, never able to say no to him. Peter steps are hesitant and awkward, deciding to sit on the leaning against your bed, while you sit on the mattress.
“So..?” you prompt.
Peter licks his lips, looking down to fiddle with the hem of his hoodie. “I, um, wanted to talk. About... the party. Liz’s party.” For a moment, your heart races. Did he know you were there? He glances up, his gaze meeting yours with a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I didn’t mean to, uh, leave you hanging. I just... had to go take care of something.”
You nod, understanding differently to what he knows. “It’s okay, Peter. I get it. I mean, you had... you had something important to do.”
Peter takes a deep breath, clearly relieved by your reaction. “I just... I didn’t want you to think I was avoiding you or anything. I shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.”
Peter’s earnestness tugs at your chest. He’s going to give you a damn sweet tooth. You can’t help but feel a mix of admiration and frustration. “Peter, it’s fine,” you say softly. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
He shakes his head, his expression earnest. “But I do. I care about you, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us.”
Your heart skips another traitorous beat at his words. His sincerity is disarming, and you find yourself wanting to reassure him, even though you’re the one grappling with this newfound knowledge about his double life. Why does he have to say things like that?
“Are you not going to the pool?” you ask, gesturing to his get-up.
He scratches his cheek, shaking his head. “No I… gotta… do something.” His voice gets quieter the more he speaks, realizing he’s just quoted the very thing he just apologized for. You snort, unable to help yourself in reaching out a brushing a curl away from his face. His eyes soften, and he reaches out, tentatively taking your hand.
Your fingers brush against his, and there's a moment of silence as you both just look at each other. Peter’s grip is gentle, as if he's afraid of pushing too much, too soon. You feel the warmth of his hand, and for a second, you forget about the secrets and the confusion.
After a moment, Peter clears his throat, his expression shifting back to a more familiar, awkward smile. You snap back to reality. “You should, uh, probably go do that thing.”
He nods, not meeting your eyes. “Yup. Gonna go do that thing now.”
He’s out the door before you can blink.
Peter doesn’t come back in time for the Academic Decathlon. MJ wins you the last point, anyway.
You’re just out of earshot as Ned talks to what you assume is Peter on the phone. You look away when Liz takes the phone and begins to speak to him.
Your coach decides it’ll be fun to have a tour of the Washington Monument. You zone out during the long elevator ride, thoughts drifting to Peter. Always Peter. You wonder if you were his girlfriend, would he look to you to patch him up when patrol gets rough? Would he take you away, swinging through the night while he tells you how pretty you look–
There’s a bright light, and everything goes deafening as a loud sound explodes within the elevator. Everything comes to a stop. Ned throws his backpack on the ground, frightened.
“Oh my God. Look at the ceiling.” There’s terrifying scorch marks on it.
“Just stay calm, everyone.”
“Oh, we are all going to die here.”
You don’t listen to anymore of what anyone has to say, too focused on steadying yourself against the wall. Holy shit. Peter better be hauling ass back here, now .
Security pushes the failing doors open, and the elevator hatch is opened as your group is prepared for evacuation. It’s a scary process, and you feel like you’re just waiting for the elevator to give up and start plummeting.
Flash, always an asshole, shoves Liz out of the way, taking the trophy with him. You scoff in disbelief as he says, “Take my trophy!” ready to give him a piece of your mind, because by God, you are in a life or death situation and he still finds the time of day to be himself–
Speaking of death.
The elevator just gave up.
You are actively falling to your resting place right now.
You can’t hear anything over the sound of everybody else’s scream. You can’t even bring yourself to scream. Even as you’re about to die, you hold yourself back, just as you always have. You’ve held yourself back when it comes to school, not putting in as much effort as you could’ve, and you’ve held yourself back from telling Peter how you feel.
Now you’ll never get too.
Except the elevator jerks to a stop, almost sending you to the floor.
There’s a web attached to the top. You can barely see a red clad figure connected to it.
Nevermind, maybe you will get to.
And then the doors he’s held up against break off the hinges and you’re falling again, spider included like a package deal. The damned box catches itself on something, and the love of your life has a rough landing as he falls into the elevator with you. Oof.
Unfortunately his impact knocks the elevator off, and you’re falling. Again. If you make it out of this alive, you’re going to take a five year nap. Peter, with all of his amazing smarts, sends a web to the top of the shaft and plants himself upside down in the elevator, stopping the thing.
He clears his throat. “Hey, how you doing? Don’t worry. I got you.” Why do you love this loser.
You stand with your whole body tense as Peter makes the perilous journey of dragging your group back up, slowly and steadily. You’re gripping the handrail so tightly your knuckles turn white. Every jolt and creak of the elevator feels like a death sentence. But Peter – no, Spider-Man – is pulling you up, inch by inch.
Ned is out first, then Mr. Harrington, and Liz clutches your hand tightly as it’s just the two of you left.
But then the floor shoots out from under your feet. Liz, ever so pretty and ever so brave, jumps out, reaching a hand for Spider-Man.
She misses, and for a split second it’s just you and her falling. And then there’s a thwip sound and suddenly you’re not falling. You’re just hanging. Hanging by a thread. Or a web, you should say.
“You’re okay. You’re okay.” It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.
Spider-Man grips Liz’s hand so tight and so assuredly, you feel like everything’s okay. Liz’s hand feels warm. Really warm. Probably all the sweat from it.
The sweat from it.
Sweat that’s making your grip come loose.
Liz looks down, terrified. “She’s slipping.”
“What–” chokes Peter.
And your hand falls from her grip. This time, you let yourself scream. The mask Peter wears gets tinier and tinier as you fall. The sensation of free-fall is overwhelming. It’s like you’re completely weightless. You wonder if this is how Peter feels when he’s swinging through New York. You also wonder he ever feels the twisting of your stomach.
You feel something wrap around your waist tightly. You’re yanked back up with a sharp tug. The warmth of an arm is something you’re not all that foreign to. You’ve been hugged by your family and friends before. But not like this. It… kind of feels like home.
“I got you, [Name].” Is whispered in your ear like a prayer. “I won’t let you fall.”
Peter’s voice in your ear is like a lifeline, pulling you out of the chaos and fear. The sheer relief of his presence makes your heart pound in your chest. You cling to him, arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he swings you both out of the elevator shaft and onto the relative safety of the doorway.
You can hear the panicked voices of your friends, but all you can focus on is Peter, his breath coming in quick gasps, his suit slightly torn but his grip on you unyielding.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice trembling slightly.
You can only nod, your throat too tight with emotion to speak. Tears blur your vision as you look at him, your best friend, your hero, the boy you've been in love with for so long.
"You saved me," you whisper, your voice breaking.
Peter tilts his head, voice a little wobbly but genuine. "Couldn't let you fall," he says simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
He gently lets go of you, leaving you to connect back to the real world again.
“So, uh, is everyone okay?” And just like that, things go back to the way they were.
Then the piece of metal he’s hanging upside-down from breaks off, and he’s falling down the shaft.
He’ll be fine.
The school news plays on a nearby team, retelling the events in which you almost died. Weird flex, but okay.
You’re on your way to your next class when arms suddenly wrap around you. You blink. Uh…
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” says a sweet voice. Ah, Peter. Who else but Peter? You smile and melt into his embrace. “Hi, Peter.”
He pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if checking for any hidden injuries. “You sure you’re alright? That was... intense.”
You shrug. “Yeah.” Then, you feel like being mean. Only a little bit. As a treat. “How would you know, though? You weren’t there.”
Peter’s eyes widen in confusion, a frown pulling at his lips. “What do you mean? I was there. I–” Then he stops himself. He was there, just not as Peter. You raise a brow.
Peter’s face goes through a series of expressions—confusion, realization, and finally, a nervous chuckle. “Oh. Right.” He scratches the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just–”
You roll your eyes halfheartedly. “Had to do that thing, I know.” Maybe you’d be more upset if you didn’t know any better, but you do. Maybe you’re just tired from everything.
Peter’s apology falters as he looks at you with those big, apologetic eyes. He seems so earnest, so genuinely concerned. He gives you those puppy dog eyes, filled with guilt and embarrassment.
“Look,” you say, taking a deep breath to steady yourself, “it’s fine. Really. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”
“Come on,” he whines halfheartedly. “Let me make it up to you.”
You look at Peter, a mix of exhaustion and affection in your eyes. Despite everything that happened, you can’t help but find his earnestness endearing. “Alright,” you say, managing a small smile. “Here’s my proposal.”
Peter's eyes light up with a hopeful glimmer, and he leans in closer, eager to hear your proposal. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day lifting off your shoulders as you prepare to make your request.
“If neither of us get a homecoming date,” you begin, watching as Peter’s eyes flick back and forth between yours, “we’ll go together.”
Peter's eyes widen with surprise and a hint of nervousness. For a moment, he seems lost in thought, processing your proposal. He takes a deep breath, as if trying to steady his racing heart, and then he nods with a flushed face.
"Deal," he says, his voice steadying. "But let's hope neither of us ends up dateless, okay? I mean, it's homecoming. It should be fun."
His words kind of sting. He basically just said he hopes he can find a date that’s not you. You’re not sure if the fact that he’s willing to go with you if things don’t work out is a good thing or not.
“Yeah, let’s hope,” you reply, trying to keep your tone light. Peter gives you a reassuring smile, though there’s an awkward tension between you now.
“Parker, my office.”
Peter looks at you exasperated. You shrug. Looks like Peter has detention.
The next couple of days, Peter looks down in the dumps.
He just seems… less like himself. Still as sweet as ever, holding doors open for you and carrying your bag. It’s hard to miss the way his usual enthusiasm is replaced by a constant air of melancholy.
You notice him moping in the hallways, his usual banter replaced by awkward silences. In class, he doesn’t seem any different, but you can tell the way he zones out when he’s not answering a question.
You try to give him space, but it’s hard to ignore the sense of worry you feel. You don’t want to pry, but you also don’t want him to sink into a deeper funk. Perhaps it’s in your nature to want to make him happy.
May greets you with a smile when she sees you on your doorstep. She’s always been kind to you. Maybe too kind. May always let little teasing comments about you too getting together slip. Peter always waved away her comments, chuckling awkwardly and saying ‘she’s just kidding’. Not very healthy for your heart.
Peter’s sitting on his bed, lost in thought. He jerks up as soon as you enter, staring at you in surprise. “[Name]!”
“Hi,” you greet, coming to sit next to him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, I can leave if you want,” you hum, point a thumb out the door. It’s mostly a joke, you really hope he doesn’t actually want you to leave.
Peter looks a bit flustered by your presence. “No, no, don’t go. I just… didn’t know you were coming.”
You lean back on your hands. “Well, when you’ve been acting weird the last couple of days, I’m gonna get worried.”
Peter slumps in on himself, sighing. He contemplates for a second before meeting your eyes. “I lost the internship.”
The internship. The Stark internship. The one you’re pretty sure is a cover for him being Spider-Man. Who hasn’t been active in a couple of days. Oh.
You give him a sympathetic look. “Peter, I’m so sorry.”
Peter nods, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Yeah, well, it’s my own fault. I was… I messed up. Tried to overcompensate, and it didn’t work out.”
You can see the frustration and disappointment in his eyes. He’s always been so driven, so dedicated. To see him like this, struggling with something that clearly matters to him, tugs at your heartstrings.
“It’s not your fault,” you say gently, trying to offer him some comfort. “Sometimes things just don’t go as planned, no matter how hard you try.”
Peter offers a small, bitter smile. “I guess. It’s just… I don’t know.” He looks in a faraway corner. “It was all I had.”
You purse your lips, wanting to scream ‘you have me!’, but you can’t bring yourself to.
Peter clears his throat. “At least I got that date with Liz.”
…Huh?
You think there’s a ringing in your ears. Your heart sinks as Peter mentions Liz. It feels like a punch to the gut. You try to mask your surprise, keeping your tone steady. "Wait, you got a date with Liz?"
“Yeah…” he chuckles shyly. “I asked her to homecoming. She said yes.”
You nod slowly, trying to process this new information. It's not exactly a blow to your heart, but it's definitely unsettling. Peter, the person you’ve had feelings for, is going out with someone else.
Though, you shouldn’t be surprised, really. You knew Peter liked Liz. If the way he stared at her wasn’t obvious enough, then the fact that he asked her to hoco is. And the fact that she said yes… God, you need to get over yourself. It’s not the end of the world. You just…
You really wanted to go with him.
“So… who’s your date?” he asks, oblivious to your inner turmoil.
You bring your legs up, wrapping your arms around them. “Nobody. I think… I’m not gonna go.”
Peter’s face falls at your words. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it, clearly at a loss for words. “Why not?”
You shrug. “I don’t have a date. Don’t wanna go alone.”
He furrows his brows. “I thought you did.”
Now it’s your turn to look confused. “No. Why did you think that?”
“You…” he trails off, looking lost. “I heard you. Talking about your crush”
“When did you hear that?”
He gulps, turning away guiltily. “In. Gym… class.”
You take a moment to think back. The only time you ever talked about your crush in gym was with MJ, that time Ned mentioned Peter knows Spider-Man. But that time…
“How did you hear that?” you ask, kind of knowing the answer. “You were, like, twenty feet away from me.”
He blushes. “I, uh… have really good hearing?”
You squeeze your eyes shut. Whatever. At least you didn’t mention Peter’s name. “Yeah, well, he doesn’t like me back. So.”
Peter’s face softens as he processes your words, a mixture of guilt and concern evident in his expression. “I’m sorry,” he says quietly.
“Don’t be. He likes someone else. Can’t be helped.”
Peter is silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face as if trying to gauge your feelings. There’s a tension in the air, a weight that seems to hang between you. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.
You breathe, patting your thighs as you stand up. “Hope you have fun, though.”
Peter watches you go, feeling like he missed something.
True to your word, you don’t go to homecoming. You spend the night watching a movie and eating popcorn. You don’t cry, but you do sniffle.
You catch wind of the battle between this guy (Liz’s dad , holy shit, you hope she’s doing okay) and Spider-Man. The next time you see him at school, you run up to him.
“Peter!” you shout.
Peter snaps out of his thoughts, turning to you. A small smile creeps up on his face at the sight of you. “Hey, what’s up–”
His words stutter to a stop as your arms wrap around him. Peter freezes for a moment, clearly taken aback by your sudden hug. Slowly, his arms come up to return the embrace, holding you tightly. He feels warm and solid against you, a comforting presence despite everything that's happened.
“What’s wrong?” he asks softly.
You melt into his embrace. “Just glad you’re okay.”
He pulls back to look at you, arms dropping to hang around your waist. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You can’t help yourself, cupping his cheek gently. Peter's eyes widen slightly at the tenderness of your touch. For a moment, he just stares at you, as if trying to decipher the reason behind your concern. He ever so slightly leans into your hand, doe eyes looking into you.
“You’ve just… been through a lot lately,” you decide to say.
Peter takes a deep breath, his gaze dropping to your hands resting on his cheek. He seems to be grappling with his emotions, his usual composure wavering. “I didn’t realize you were so concerned,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smile gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Of course I am. You’re important to me, Peter.”
Peter’s mouth opens and closes, unable to form words. He gulps, shifting on his feet. The tension in the air is thicker than it’s ever been, though you can’t tell why.
Peter thinks he just had an epiphany.
He takes a deep breath, hands on your waist tightening. “Hey, um. Can I… can we talk later? After school?”
You nod. “Yeah, of course.”
Peter nods as well. “Cool, cool.” His hands fall from your waist when his phone buzzes, and you finally feel like you can breathe. “I gotta take this,” he says, already walking away from you.
Peter texts you before the last bell rings, saying that something came up and if you can push your talk a few hours ahead. Your fingers shake as you type out your reply agreeing. You do your homework in silence, foot tapping up and down nervously. The sun is on the cusp of setting when there’s a knock on your door.
“Hey,” Peter greets you when you open it. He looks out of breath, like he just ran here.
“Hey,” you respond, trying to keep your voice steady.
Peter shifts nervously on his feet, glancing around before focusing on you. “You’re parents home?”
You raise a brow. “No..?”
“Good.” He moves past you, making his way to your living room. You close the door and follow him, heart pounding in your chest. Peter paces for a moment before taking a deep breath and turning to face you.
“I,” he starts, voice unsteady, “have been doing a lot of thinking.”
You remain silent, waiting for him to continue. Peter runs a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I’ve been focused on the wrong things. I know I haven’t really… been there. So, I’m sorry for that.” He wrings his hands together. You watch Peter with a mixture of anticipation and concern, your heart racing as he continues to struggle with his words.
“And, um, I guess, what I’m trying to say is…” He looks directly into your eyes, a mixture of vulnerability and resolve in his expression. He takes a deep breath.
“I–”
“–Know,” you blurt.
Peter’s mouth flops open like a fish out of water. “Uh. What?”
You purse your lips. Cat’s out of the bag. “I know you’re Spider-Man.”
Peter stares incredulously at you. “I… saw. When you went outside to change at Liz’s party. You just left, and I followed you, and for some reason you were changing in front of a big ass window without your mask on? So, literally anyone could’ve saw you, so that might be more your fault than mine–”
“[Name].” Peter's voice cuts through your rambling, and he takes a step closer, hands coming to grasp yours. “You… know?”
You gulp. “Well, yeah? That’s what I just said.”
He lets out a breathy chuckle, shoulders hunching. He brings your hands up to his mouth, lightly kissing them. It sends your heart cracking through your ribs. “[Name], that’s not what I was gonna say.”
You look up at Peter, confusion and anticipation mingling in your eyes. He seems almost relieved, a soft smile gracing his lips as he holds your hands close. The moment feels suspended, and you can hear the quiet hum of the evening outside, adding to the atmosphere of calm and intensity.
“I like you. I really like you.”
You feel your breath catch in your throat, the words sinking in as if time has momentarily stopped. Peter’s eyes are locked on yours, filled with sincerity and a vulnerability that’s rare to see from him. The warmth of his hands around yours feels electrifying, grounding you in the moment.
“...I thought you liked Liz,” you whisper.
“I thought I did too,” he mutters, close. “But I was being stupid. I thought you liked someone else, so I stayed away.” He shakes his head. “But I can’t anymore.”
“How do you know it’s you I like?” you croak.
“Apart from you basically just admitting it?” He smiles cheekily. “MJ told me.”
You click your tongue. “Meddler.”
“She said she got tired of our bullshit.”
You giggle quietly, head dropping. Peter doesn’t take his eyes off of you, biting his lip in anticipation. You squeeze his hands gently, still processing the whirlwind of emotions. “So, what now?”
Peter’s expression softens, and he takes another step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “Can I… can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
Your heart flutters at his words. “Yes,” you say, almost breathless.
Peter leans in slowly, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips meet yours in a gentle, tender kiss. It’s a kiss filled with all the unspoken emotions, a release of the tension and a celebration of what’s finally come to light. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this perfect, shared moment.
As Peter's lips linger on yours, the kiss deepens, becoming more passionate yet still tender. You feel the warmth of his body, the soft pressure of his lips, and the gentle caress of his hands around yours. The kiss seems to hold everything that had been unsaid, all the confusion, the longing, and the relief of finally being on the same page
When you finally pull back, both of you are smiling, the weight of recent days seeming lighter. Peter’s eyes are full of warmth and affection, and he holds you close, his forehead resting against yours.
“Will you, um… be my–”
“–Guy in the chair? Sure, Pete. It’d be my pleasure.”
Peter hides his grin in your neck. “Sorry. Ned beat you to it.”
“Barely seconds into this relationship and you’ve already betrayed me,” you scoff playfully.
“So we’re dating now?” His voice sounds hopeful.
“Duh.” You’ve never been more sure. “Pete, I’ve been down bad for you ever since you gave me that pencil.”
He pulls back, looking at you with heartbreaking eyes. He leans in to kiss you on the forehead, then pulls back slightly, his expression soft and sincere. "I’m really sorry about homecoming. I’ll take you to prom and we’ll have the best night of our lives.”
You’re pretty sure the best night of your life will be when you and Peter get married, but maybe you’re getting ahead of yourself. “I heard you dumped her there as soon as you got there, anyway. If you ever do that to me I’ll make sure you can never be Spider-Man again.”
He nods his head seriously. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he grins, giddy with the outcome of the situation. “I’ll still make it up to you.”
“I can think of a few ways.”
He blushes, scandalized. “[Name]!”
“Down bad for a long time, Pete,” you remind him. “Like I said, my parents aren’t here…”
He scoffs, shoving you away slightly before pulling you back to him, not willing to let you go after he finally has you. The two of you stand there, holding each other, savoring the quiet and the closeness. The weight of the past few days lifts, replaced by a renewed sense of connection and possibility. It feels like the beginning of something new and wonderful, a chance to explore this newfound closeness and see where it takes you both.
“Can we just. Go out to dinner or something?” he asks, thumb rubbing at your waist. “We could use some celebration, I think."
You smile, feeling a surge of warmth at his thoughtfulness. "That sounds perfect."
As you both head out the door, hand in hand, the evening feels full of promise. With the uncertainties of the past few days behind you, you're ready to embrace whatever comes next—together.
notes: i wanted reader to drop the "i know ur spiderman" bomb and somehow find a way out of the conversation and now peter has to try to confess to them but he just cant get a hold of them for whatever reason. but that would be like a whole nother 3k or more words and like... this fic already too long LOL
Summary: The rest of your life had already been chosen for you; marry the richest man in all of New York and become the perfect wife by his side. But when you meet a masked stranger one night at the circus, you find yourself making irrational decisions. And you're not sure you can stop.
AU Spider-Man, where, instead of a superhero, he's an act at a circus. Set somewhere in the 1930s (not at all historically accurate, truly just for aesthetic purposes).
Warnings: None at the moment.
Notes: I fear that whenever a new Spider-Man film is on the horizon, I awaken from my slumber and get the itch to write. And in doing so, I came across this story I wrote four years ago (!!!) and never published. And because I didn't want it to rot alone, I fixed it up a bit and decided to share. Going to be probably be in 3-4 parts depending, as I wrote the story halfway but never finished, so we'll see how my present self wants to wrap it up.
You didn’t want to go out that night.
You had much preferred to stay at home and read your current novel of choice, but your fiancé, Harry, had insisted you accompany him to the circus performance across town.
“Come on, sweetheart. You know the people will talk if they don’t see you by my side. And we wouldn’t want that, would we?” Harry says, crystal blue eyes so heavy on your back, you can feel them.
Your relationship with Harry was strictly business. One created for societal appearances and financial security.
You didn’t quite detest it, however, because despite your affinity for fantasy books featuring great romances, you knew the difference between reality and fiction; True love didn’t exist. And Harry Osborn wasn’t a bad man. He bought you extravagant gifts, never treated you with disrespect, and he was a man of wealth and many prospects. He was the sole heir of the Osborn family business, one that remained successful to this day, and after the passing of his father, Harry became the richest man in all of New York.
You were born from money as well, of course; however, your riches had run dry thanks to a business misfortune that led your father to relinquish his role in the family.
Permanently.
You were now the only one who could guarantee any form of security for you and your mother, and with the help of your good friend, Gwendolyn Stacy, a well-liked member of high society, you were introduced to Harry Osborn.
The first meeting wasn’t anything of romance either. After a walk in the Stacy estate gardens, he admitted why he was so interested in you.
“There’s a deep sadness in you. It’s in your eyes and the way you carry yourself.”
You nearly pause mid-step but keep your composure, an apology ready to be uttered. A sad girl would not make a desirable wife, you can almost hear your mother hiss.
As if he can tell your concern, he chuckled. “I like it. It's of comfort to me,” he reveals, an odd twinkle in his eyes.
You stare at him, expression unmoving, ignoring the sinking feeling in your chest.
It was an internal conflict that ended quite quickly when you realized that there was no point in dwelling on it at all; all that mattered was for Harry to want you, whether it be genuine or for more... peculiar reasons. As long as he asked for your hand, you were guaranteed a secure future, and that’s all you cared about. Plus, you admired his honesty, because honesty was one of the many qualities of a good man.
And Harry was a good man.
You didn’t mind that your marriage would be loveless or void of passion. In fact, it was easier that way. You could remain living in your own little world, just how you liked it. He even promised to let you read at all hours of the day as long as you allowed him to do what he liked most as well—Go out drinking with colleagues, smoke tobacco in the parlor room, casually entertain pretty women. Not anything too far, but just enough to be fun for him.
It was the deal you two had that made him beyond susceptible to marrying you. And in marrying you, he would take care of you. A good man takes care of his wife.
And Harry was a good man.
“You've become a very valuable asset, sweetheart,” he had told you after your walk, blue eyes squinting as he smirked, his left eye hidden behind his dark hair.
You can imagine all the women who would absolutely die to have the Harry Osborn look at them like that. You were very lucky. There might have been no sweetness in the way he spoke to you, but there was also no aggression, like how your father would speak to your mother whenever she would come into his view. Throughout the walk, he honestly made you feel like you were a pet of some sort. Or another business deal.
But you knew there were worse ways to feel. So when Gwen headed over to you once he left, asking giddily about how it went, you said, “He’s quite the gentleman. I think he plans to propose next week.”
Her big blue eyes widen. “And?” she questions.
You linger on her expression, noticing the excitement she can barely contain. Her hands fidget anxiously as she waits for your response, and you find it comical how she looks more giddy about your possible proposal than you are.
“I’m saying yes,” you confess, and Gwen immediately jumps up, taking you into a hug. “Oh my goodness, this is amazing! You’re getting engaged!” she squeals.
You try not to overthink your lack of excitement in comparison to her. You don’t dwell on how you feel nothing at all. Instead, you plan in your head what you’ll be wearing to the planned proposal and if you can make do with what you already have in your closet.
The proposal, as planned, arrives the following week. Harry invites you and half the city to a party at his luxurious estate, and after light appetizers and a champagne toast, he gets down on one knee and asks you the question you practiced answering in the mirror for days leading up to it.
“Yes, of course,” you say simply, a smile plastered on your face.
Everyone around you erupts into cheers. Bottles pop, men clap each other on the back, women squeal with excitement, and you can hear your mother and Gwen sobbing happily. The sounds are loud, the celebration grandiose, yet it all fades into silence. The world slows around you, each movement unfolding in a blur as your vision softens. You almost fell numb to the ring being slid up your finger.
It's gaudy and not even close to something you would have picked out, with a diamond so obnoxious, you're sure the money could have been spent feeding half the city. Harry stands up and snakes an arm around your waist, smiling as cameras pop up from the crowd, flashes blinding you completely as he pulls you closer to him.
“Take it in. As the future Mrs. Osborn, the world is your fucking oyster,” he whispers in your ear with a low chuckle, the kind that makes it clear he expects this level of admiration because everyone else exists a level beneath him. You ignore the sick feeling in your stomach and continue to smile.
The next day, that same smile is plastered on the front page of the Daily Bugle.
You spent the next few weeks leading up to the wedding playing the part of 'perfect fiancé'. Attending social events with Harry, standing by him in support during public appearances, and most importantly, agreeing to whatever he requests. So, when Harry asks to go to the circus, you say yes despite not wanting to, because that would make him happy. And you knew that the key to a successful marriage was a happy husband.
Anything else you craved, the books you spent hours devouring could give you.
—————————————————
The big red-and-white tent is an eyesore. There are strings of lights hung all around it, and crowds were walking in with a giddiness you couldn’t imagine exhibiting, but it was enjoyable to observe. Harry is chatting with his friend, Eugene ‘Flash’ Thompson, while his girlfriend, Elizabeth Allan, is clad by your side.
“Oooh, you’re so lucky. I overheard Flash talking with Harry, and he said that he’s planning on having your ceremony at the Met! Is that true?! Oh, you’re going to have the most romantic wedding the city has ever seen. You have to let me be your maid of honor; I could absolutely plan the best…”
You don’t remember anything else about the conversation because, like most times, you zone out and just watch the world around you: the kids running gleefully into the tent, couples holding hands and giggling, the man on a unicycle greeting people in.
You’re grounded back to reality, though, when you reach your seats on a row of bleachers, and Harry tugs you into the seat next to him.
“I’m really hoping they have those freaks in the show. You know, like the bearded lady and the guy with lobster claws for hands,” Flash gushes obnoxiously, waving his hand over at a vendor walking his way.
Harry chuckles, passing the vendor a bill once he approaches, grabbing a box of popcorn and a bag of peanuts.
“You’re a freak yourself, Thompson, if you’re into those weirdos.”
He passes the box of popcorn to you, and you take it, despite not wanting any, because you know Harry just intends for you to hold it for him.
Suddenly, the lights dim and a single spotlight appears in the middle of the ring. A voice booms throughout the walls of the tent, and you can feel the nervous energy radiating off of everyone inside of it, anticipating the spectacle that’s to come.
“Ladies and gentlemen, children of all ages, welcome to the greatest show on earth!” A strong, boisterous voice announces, and the audience goes wild in applause and cheers.
The energy is like this throughout the entire show: constant whooping and hollering at the clowns and lions, and stuntmen shooting out of cannons. It was all a sight to be seen, and even you were completely entranced.
The lights dim once more as the previous act makes its way out of the center of the ring, and the announcer once again begins to speak.
“And now, prepare to be completely astounded by our most amazing act yet. Ladies and gentlemen, I advise you to keep your eyes wide open, for you will not want to miss what will surely be the first time you have ever seen such a spectacle. Behold, a man and a spider combined as one!”
The audience cheers, Flash near you stomping his feet on the metal below you as he whoops and hollers.
Your brows furrow, mind going through all the possibilities of this being possible. Was he a man with extra limbs? Extra eyes on his face? Capable of shooting webbing out of his-
“Ladies and gentlemen, I give you The Amazing Spider-Man!”
A spotlight focuses on the top of the tent’s ceiling, and the whole crowd collectively gasps when they realize there’s someone there. The Amazing Spider-Man is clad in a blue and red suit with his hands and legs sticking to the top of the tent, causing a riot as he begins to crawl all around it.
“No fucking way!” Flash shouts in disbelief, and Harry laughs, reaching over to slap him on the shoulder.
“There’s your freak, Thompson,” he says, but you try your best to ignore them as you’re completely captivated by this ‘Amazing Spider-Man’.
Suddenly, Spider-Man stretches one of his hands out and shoots what looks like a web, attaching it to the other side of the ceiling.
The audience goes crazy, and your eyes widen in astonishment as Spider-Man jumps and swings down at the crowd.
He does this for a bit, doing flips and spins as he shoots web after web, swinging and diving down at the audience. Finally, he lands at the center of the ring, and the audience all stands up, including you, to give him a standing ovation.
He bows, waving his hand before
And that’s all you could think about as the show carried on: The Amazing Spider-Man who defied logic and did the impossible. It made your heart race, hands vibrating with excitement. You don’t understand why you’re feeling this way, never having been like this before, but when the show ends, a thrill stirs inside of you. Which is why, as you trail behind the group as everyone exits, your eyes immediately scan the crowd for the red and blue suit.
And as if the universe was curious about what the plot would entail if you did, you spot Spider-Man walking towards another tent in the distance. You don’t know what comes over you, certainly not logic, as you had a feeling that left your body as soon as he performed, but you quietly escape the group to pursue him.
You quickly enter the tent, back against the fabric as you close your eyes and let out a deep breath you were keeping in. Once you open them, you take in your surroundings. There was a humble bed, a rack with men’s apparel, and a small dresser that had seen better days. On top of the dresser, there were photo frames, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing one. The picture was that of an older woman with gray hair and kind eyes. You wondered who she was to this mysterious Spider-Man.
“Uh… can I help you?” a voice booms from above, and your head immediately snaps up with a jump.
There he was, Spider-Man hanging upside down from atop the ceiling.
You gasp as he lowers himself towards you, big white eyes staring straight into yours. Up close, you can see the details of his suit: the black web details artfully crafted throughout it, the spider emblem displayed in the middle. Your heart races with a mix of fear and excitement. The Amazing Spider-Man was right in front of you, staring you down, yet you couldn’t find it within yourself to look away.
At this, you fiddle with your hands, cheeks warming up at the realization that you, in fact, had no solid reason for approaching him.
“No, umm…a-actually, I just wanted to say that I very much enjoyed the show. Especially your act,” you state, and you're sure he can tell how flustered you are.
But even if he does, he doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, even with the mask covering his face, you can tell he seems taken aback.
“Oh. Uhh…thanks. You know, I never had someone enjoy the show so much that they follow me home, but I'm flattered,” he says, and with a yank of his wrist, the web attached to the roof breaks off, and he flips to a standing, upright position.
Standing in front of you, you feel your breath hitch in your throat, realizing how tall and intimidating he seems. You try to keep your composure.
“I’m sorry. I know that was very forward of me to do. I just…I honestly don’t know what’s come over me,” you say, realization washing over you.
You just followed a strange man into his ‘room’. What is going on with you???
“I sincerely apologize. I…I’ll just….”
“Why did you?” he asks, eyes remaining on you, making you feel even smaller than you already felt. “Follow me, I mean. Did you want to see if I had spider eyes or extra limbs I'm hiding? Curious as to how much of a freak I am?” There’s something in his tone that throws you off. A mix of amusement and bitterness.
You shake your head, fully embarrassed. “N-no. I…I just really liked your act. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I just wanted….” You pause, realizing you had no genuine idea what you intended to happen. For the first time ever, you just did something for no reason at all other than that you just wanted to.
“I don’t know why I did it. I just…did,” you admit, and he studies you in silence.
Just when you’re about to let out another apology and excuse yourself out of his tent, he suddenly steps closer to you, causing you to flinch lightly at his rapid movement. He doesn’t utter a word or a sound, his face hovering above yours as he stands just inches away from you. You feel your heart beating fast against your chest, and you're worried he can hear it too.
His masked face tilts slightly, as if he’s drinking you in fully. You should be afraid, you know it, but instead you feel…exhilarated. You hold your breath, waiting for whatever he says next.
“You sound like you make very rational decisions,” he finally says, catching you off guard, and you surprise yourself with a breathless laugh.
“Believe it or not, I normally do. I think the show just messed with my head,” you admit, and you feel a warmth in your chest when you hear him reciprocate the laughter.
“Yeah, this place can do that to you. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Miss…?” he says, and outstretches his hand towards you.
You stare at it for a moment before slipping your hand hesitantly into his, allowing him to give it a shake, and it’s something in his skin touching yours, despite it being completely covered by his suit, that sends shivers down your spine.
You reveal your name to him, which he repeats, and you feel a slight flutter in your chest at hearing his voice say it. He releases your hand from his grip, and you finally avert your eyes from his, knowing you probably look flushed.
“Are you here with your family or…?”
You look back up at him, not expecting him to ask anything like that.
“Umm..I’m actually here with some friends. And, uh… my fiancé,” you admit, and you think you see his body stiffen.
“Fiancé, huh? I shouldn’t be surprised. A pretty girl like you? Makes sense you’d be spoken for,” he says, and you feel your face heat up.
What you’re feeling at this moment, this bashfulness and warmth that sends shockwaves throughout your entire body, is like nothing you’ve ever felt. It’s foreign, and it makes you nervous, but it also excites you.
This man excites you.
So you have to be pardoned when you make a complete fool of yourself and say:
“I don’t love him, though,” you confess before you even have a chance to realize what you’re saying.
You immediately wish that the ground would swallow you whole, especially when you can almost feel him being completely thrown off.
“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said that. That was completely inappropriate. My apologies, I will be going now…”
“You don’t?” he questions, and despite not being able to see his eyes, you once again can feel something coming off of them. Amusement? Curiosity?
You process his question as your mouth opens and closes in a failed attempt to form coherent words.
“I…”
The way he’s seemingly sizing you up now makes you want to run away.
Oh, what a stupid fool you’ve made of yourself.
Spider-Man shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. I was just not expecting that response, but I also know it’s not right of me to ask. We can just forget it happened and start over. Hi, I’m Spider-Man,” he states and lifts his hand to you once again.
You stare at his hand for a moment, slightly hesitant, before a small smile forms on your lips.
“Thank you,” you say gratefully, taking his hand once again.
“I take it this is your first time seeing our show?” he asks, and you nod.
“It’s my first time seeing anything like this, actually. And I have to say, it’s the most thrilling I’ve ever felt,” you confess honestly.
He chuckles softly, finally stepping away from you to stand a comfortable distance. “Really? Wow, then I’m honored. Although trust me when I tell you that, despite what the boss says, we’re far from the greatest show on earth.”
You giggle at this, surprising yourself with the sound. You can’t remember the last time you ‘giggled’. You didn’t even think you still could.
Suddenly, he pulls his wrist out, and with a thwip, a web shoots out and sticks to the wall of the tent behind him. You gasp as he swings towards it, staring up at him in awe as he lands, hands and feet sticking to it perfectly.
“See, that’s incredible! How do you do that?” you ask, and you feel a giant giddy smile take over your face.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I got bit by a spider not too long ago, and then I started being able to do things like this,” he confesses as he begins to crawl up towards the ceiling and then back down the wall behind you.
You turn around, eyes fully glued to his every movement. “Amazing,” you say breathlessly, as he lands on his two feet in front of you once again.
“That’s my name; don’t wear it out,” he jokes, and you laugh.
He’s funny.
“Are you busy right now?” he asks suddenly.
Your mouth forms a small ‘o’, suddenly remembering the group you came with. You turn around and slightly lift the fabric of the tent up so you can peep outside. Your eyes search the crowd, and you immediately spot Harry scanning the groups of people who are still exiting the tent.
“Right. Your fiancé, huh?”
You look back at him, an apologetic expression on your face.
“Yes. I…thank you for such an amazing show. Really, I think this will be the highlight of my life. I wish you much success, Spider-Man,” you say with a small smile, mustering up the gratitude you feel towards him.
But what you don’t know is that your eyes clearly betray the smile on your face, a sadness he notes immediately.
You turn around, and just as you’re about to exit the tent, you feel him gently pull your arm to turn towards him.
“Please don’t feel any pressure to accept, but we’re actually going to be here all week. We have a contract to put on the show every night. And since you really enjoyed yourself, I think you should come back tomorrow so I can give you a tour. You know, meet everyone, find out some behind-the-scenes magic. Maybe even let you pet the elephants,” he suggests, and your eyes light up in excitement.
“R-really?” you ask in awe, and he nods, responding with a simple “Absolutely.”
The sad look in your eyes immediately shifts to excitement, and it stirs butterflies in his chest. Despite having just met you, the light in your eyes and smile felt intoxicating. He wanted to drink it up as much as he could.
So when you say yes to meeting him tomorrow, he’s ecstatic and promises to give you the best time of your life. You say your goodbyes, and he watches you run off to your fiancé, who looks less than pleased at you having disappeared.
He notices the way you shrink in place, and in his head, he replays your conversation and the sudden mention of not loving your fiancé. It was strange and disturbing, and anyone else would think it too forward, but he understood that you must have been feeling exasperated enough to have confessed that to a stranger like him.
Yet, something about you felt familiar. Like he knew you from beyond this moment. Like this was meant to happen, and he had been waiting for you to stumble into his tent all this time.
He finally rips the mask off his face and sighs heavily, flopping onto his bed as he faces the top of the tent.
summary: when peter tries to admit his feelings for you and ask you on a date while your father is away, things suddenly dont go as planned and your father’s hologram catches you.
warnings: none!
word count: 2.3k
Peter knew it was a bad idea, But he couldn’t help it.
Liking you — falling for you — was probably the dumbest thing he’d ever done. And he had done a lot of dumb things. Accidentally webbed himself to a moving train. Tried to fight an alien invasion with a half-charged suit. Tripped over Captain America’s shield during training.
But this? You?
This was a whole new kind of disaster.
Because you weren’t just anyone. You were you — Tony Stark’s daughter. The only person on the planet who somehow managed to be more terrifying, brilliant, and beautiful than your father all in one. You were magnetic in a way Peter didn’t stand a chance against. Funny without trying. Wicked smart. Eyes that saw right through him. Lips that curved into a smirk every time he got flustered — which was a lot.
And God, you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.
That kind of pretty that made him forget to blink. That made him short-circuit mid-sentence when you leaned over his shoulder in the lab or ruffled his hair when he was sulking. That kind of pretty that wasn’t just surface — it was woven into your voice, your laugh, the way you looked at him like he mattered.
And for a long time, he’d convinced himself it was fine. That he could just ignore it. That it was safer that way. Because Mr. Stark — Tony — had made it very clear how he felt about the idea of Peter getting anywhere near his daughter.
“I don’t want someone like you dragging her into this life,” he’d said once. Not cruel. Just firm. “She deserves normal. Stability. And you? You wear grief and danger like a second skin.”
And Peter… got it.
He did. He knew what it meant to live this life. He knew what it cost. He knew about responsibility. Sacrifice. Late nights, near-death experiences, and the weight of saving people who never knew your name.
But it didn’t stop how he felt. Not when you were around.
Especially not when you teased him the way you did.
When you sat beside him during team briefings and quietly passed him gum like he was going to combust under pressure. When you called him out in front of the team just to make him squirm, then winked at him after like it was your own private joke. When you stayed up late helping him fix his web shooters, fingers brushing over his every now and then, warm and steady and undeniably distracting.
It drove him insane — in the best, most excruciating way.
And tonight was no different.
The living room was quiet now — most of the team had scattered after dinner. Bucky and Sam were still bickering down the hall, and Wanda had disappeared with Vision, promising tea and calm. But here, on the couch, it was just Peter and you.
You sprawled across the cushions like you owned the place — which, okay, technically you did. Your legs were kicked up over the armrest, your top hitched up just enough to send Peter’s brain spiraling.
He sat beside you, tense and awkward, palms damp against his jeans. You flipped through the channels like none of it mattered, completely at ease.
“Wanda’s a goddess,” you sighed, settling on a rerun of something animated and ridiculous. “If I had her cooking powers, I’d be unstoppable.”
“You’re already kinda unstoppable,” Peter said, voice a little too high. “I mean — not like witch unstoppable — but you don’t really need paprika to be, uh, impressive. Or— yeah.”
You looked over at him, smirking. “Did you just compare me to paprika?”
Panic. “No! I mean, maybe? Not— not like a spice! I meant like, you’re— you know— great! Without the spice! Not that you’re bland, just—”
“Peter,” you said with a quiet laugh, “breathe.”
His mouth shut instantly, face flushing pink.
You tilted your head toward him, your teasing smile fading into something softer. The glow from the TV flickered across your face, casting shadows Peter was sure even the stars were jealous of. It was a moment — one of those this is it, do it now kind of moments.
So he swallowed his nerves and sat up a little straighter.
“I’ve, uh… I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he started, scratching the back of his neck.
You quirked a brow, still watching him. “Finally confessing you stole my charger two months ago?”
“What? No! I mean, yes — but I was gonna return it! I just— I meant—”
You laughed, and it nearly broke him. He’d never get used to how beautiful you looked when you smiled.
“I was gonna say,” Peter said quickly, voice cracking just slightly, “I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me sometime?”
There. He said it. He actually said it.
His heart was racing. His whole body felt like it was vibrating from the inside out. He stared at you, half-expecting you to laugh or call him cute in that “oh sweetie” way you sometimes did when he was being awkward.
But you didn’t. You smiled — not teasing, not sarcastic, just… warm.
“Peter—” you started.
And then—
The TV blinked.
Static crackled.
The lights dimmed just slightly.
And suddenly — there he was.
Tony Stark.
In full holographic glory, projected in front of the screen like a ghost conjured by sarcasm and spite.
Peter’s blood ran cold.
“Peter Benjamin Parker,” the hologram said, voice sharp and clipped. “Step away from my daughter.”
Peter nearly died.
“Oh my God,” you groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “Dad. Seriously?”
“I anticipated this,” Holo-Tony continued, ignoring you completely. “Exactly this. The minute you started ‘accidentally’ dropping by the tower three times a week, I initiated Protocol Stark #4.”
Peter’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “I— this isn’t— I wasn’t— I mean, I was, but not like that—!”
“Do you have any idea,” Tony’s voice cut in like a guillotine, “how many high-level defense protocols I created to prevent this exact scenario? Hormone-fueled superheroes flirting with my daughter? Twelve. I built twelve.”
The hologram turned to look directly at Peter, as if it could somehow smell his panic.
“This is Protocol Stark #4: Don’t Even Think About It, Kid.”
Peter actually whimpered.
You were trying not to laugh, but failing miserably now. You shoved a pillow in your face to muffle the sound, shoulders shaking.
“I—I swear, sir, I wasn’t trying anything—well, I was, but—” Peter stopped himself. “Not like that! I respect her! And you! I mean—I respect her more obviously, not that I don’t respect you—”
“Kid,” the hologram cut in flatly. “Take a breath before you pass out and I have to activate Protocol #6: CPR from Hulk.”
Peter blinked. “That’s… not real, right?”
The hologram flickered slightly.
“…Maybe.”
Holographic Tony stood in front of the TV, glitching slightly at the edges, arms crossed, sunglasses on despite it being nighttime in New York. Somewhere behind him in the projection, palm trees and a luxury resort were just barely visible.
Peter froze. You dragged a hand over your face and let out the deepest sigh he’d ever heard from a human being.
Tony Stark tilted his head, calm and smug as ever. “Sweetheart, you know I run surprise protocol checks when I’m on vacation. You’re lucky I didn’t send the Mark 49.”
You gestured wildly at the screen. “You’re supposed to be on a getaway with Mom!”
“I am. She’s in the spa. I’m doing security sweeps. You know — relaxing.”
Peter looked like he was physically trying to sink into the couch cushions.
“I swear,” you muttered, “this is why we can’t have nice things.”
You groaned and turned to Peter. “Do not move. You’re not running away.”
“I wasn’t gonna run—” he whispered. “I was maybe gonna, like… web-launch out the window. Casually.”
You rolled your eyes and looked back at the screen. “Dad, seriously?”
Tony sighed dramatically. “Look. It’s not that I don’t like Peter.”
Peter blinked. “Wait, really?”
“I said it’s not that I don’t like you. I didn’t say I do like you.”
“Oh. That… yeah, that checks out.”
“It’s that I’ve spent years keeping my daughter out of the line of fire. And you, my kid, are a walking magnet for building collapses, supervillains, and emotionally repressed wizards. I don’t want her caught in that.”
You cut in, arms crossed. “I help you build suits. I literally write code for the Tower’s defense systems. I helped reprogram F.R.I.D.A.Y. last month to keep Peter from faceplanting off the 46th floor.”
“Still fell, though,” Tony said, looking off-screen.
“Because you turned off my webbing mid-air to test a reflex protocol!” Peter blurted.
Tony shrugged. “I had faith.”
You threw your arms up. “So what is this? The jealous dad on a tropical beach pulling security holograms every time a boy gets within five feet of me?”
“Yes,” Tony said immediately. “That’s exactly what this is.”
You looked down at your StarkPad, already typing. “Initiating manual override of Hologram Protocol #4…”
“Don’t you dare—”
“Voice authorization: I’m an adult, and Peter hasn’t even kissed me yet.”
Peter choked.
Tony’s sunglasses slipped slightly down his nose. “What did she just say?”
You pressed one final key. The hologram flickered.
“Love you, Dad. Go drink something with a tiny umbrella in it.”
And just like that, the hologram vanished with a high-pitched glitch and a long beep.
Peter stared at you, shell-shocked. “…He’s going to murder me when he gets back.”
“He’s not,” you said, leaning into his side with a sly smile. “Not if I get to you first.”
Peter blinked. “Wait— is that a threat or a date?”
You tilted your head. “Why not both?”
He flushed scarlet.
“So…” he said, cautiously hopeful. “That yes from earlier? Still valid?”
You reached over, slid your fingers into his. “Absolutely.”
Peter exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for five months.
“You’re sure? No retracting? No drones? No flaming swords?”
You grinned. “Just dinner, dork.”
He smiled back, slow and bright. “Cool. That’s— that’s really cool.”
A pause.
“…Should I be worried about Protocol #5?”
You nodded. “Oh, 100%. That one’s face-scanning and armed.”
Peter looked vaguely ill.
“Worth it though,” you said softly, resting your head on his shoulder.
