worldsmessiestwriter

[worldsmessiestwriter]

You’re so vain.

tw - suggestive.

word count - ?

Peter Parker x Stark! reader

inspired by a scene in how to lose a guy in 10 days <3

—————————————————————————

The Stark Tower was alive with music, laughter, and expensive booze. Tony Stark’s latest party was in full swing, with glittering lights reflecting off champagne glasses and a crowd full of Avengers and high-profile guests. In the midst of the glamour, Y/N Stark stood at the bar, her drink in hand and a storm brewing inside her.

Across the room, Peter Parker was laughing with Tony, acting like everything was fine. Like the two of them hadn’t slept together just a week ago. Like he hadn’t promptly ignored her ever since.

“Unbelievable,” Y/N muttered, downing the rest of her cocktail.

Peter glanced her way—just for a second—and quickly looked away. That little flick of guilt was all it took to send her simmering rage into a full boil.

Pepper appeared beside her, raising a delicate brow. “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Y/N said sharply, her grip on her empty glass tight.

Pepper took one look at Peter and hummed knowingly. “Got it. Well, try not to do anything.. rash.”

Y/N glared at Peter, who had just taken a sip of his drink, still grinning at something Ned said. It was like nothing had happened between them. Like he hadn’t kissed her neck, whispered her name, and—

“Ugh!” she grumbled, setting her glass down and storming toward the DJ booth.

Peter was just starting to relax when the music cut out, replaced by a screech of feedback from the microphone. His heart sank as he saw Y/N standing on stage, mic in hand, her eyes locked on him.

“Good evening, everyone,” she said, her voice syrupy sweet. “I hope you’re all enjoying this fabulous Stark party. I know I certainly am.”

The crowd chuckled politely, though most of them were already pulling out their phones.

Peter shifted uncomfortably, his Spidey sense tingling—not because of danger, but because this was about to go very, very wrong.

“This next song,” Y/N continued, “is dedicated to a very special someone in the room. Someone who clearly thinks the world revolves around them.” She pointedly glanced at Peter, and the crowd followed her gaze.

Peter’s stomach dropped.

Before he could react, the opening notes of You’re So Vain blasted through the speakers.

“You walked into the party,” Y/N sang dramatically, dragging out the lyrics, “like you were walking onto a yacht…”

Laughter rippled through the room as Y/N strutted across the stage, glaring daggers at Peter. His cheeks burned as he downed the rest of his drink for courage.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered, slamming the glass down and marching toward the stage.

“Your scarf, it was apricot,” Y/N crooned, leaning into the mic. “You had one eye in the mirror, as you watched yourself gavotte…”

Peter snatched the microphone from the DJ’s stand. “Alright, that’s enough!” he blurted, his voice ringing out through the speakers.

“Oh, now you want to talk?” Y/N shot back, glaring at him.

“Yes, I want to talk,” Peter replied, stepping onto the stage. “Starting with what are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” she echoed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just performing a little number that perfectly sums up my feelings.” She turned back to the crowd, belting, “You’re so vaaaaain, you probably think this song is about yoooou!”

“It is about me!” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Oh, so you admit it!” Y/N said triumphantly, pointing at him.

The crowd was in hysterics now, phones capturing every second of their drunken spectacle.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Y/N, you’re being ridiculous! This is not how adults handle things.”

“Oh, because you’re so mature?” she shot back. “Ignoring me all week like a coward after sleeping with me.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you!”

“Really? What would you call it then?”

“I was… I was…” Peter stammered, his alcohol-clouded brain struggling to find an excuse.

“Exactly!” Y/N yelled, poking his chest. “You didn’t even text me, Peter! Not even a ‘hey,let’s do it again sometime!�� or even a ‘hey, that was a mistake!’”

“It wasn’t a mistake!” Peter blurted out, his voice loud and earnest.

Y/N blinked at him, surprised. “What?”

“I said it wasn’t a mistake,” Peter repeated, lowering his mic. His face was red—not just from embarrassment but from the honesty spilling out of him. “I—I just didn’t know what to say, okay? I didn’t want to screw things up with you, so I panicked. I’m sorry.”

The room was dead silent now, save for a few awkward coughs.

Y/N’s anger faltered, replaced by confusion. “You’re… sorry?”

“Yes!” Peter said, throwing his arms in the air. “I’m sorry! I like you, okay? I like you a lot. And I handled this horribly because I didn’t know what to do.”

Y/N stared at him, her heart doing somersaults despite the lingering irritation. Before she could respond, a loud groan cut through the silence.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tony’s voice boomed as he stepped onto the stage, rubbing his temples. “This is a party, not open mic night at the heartbreak café.”

The crowd roared with laughter as Tony plucked the microphone out of their hands.

“You two,” he said, pointing at Y/N and Peter, “go. Talk. Somewhere else. Preferably somewhere soundproof.”

Y/N and Peter exchanged sheepish looks before hopping off the stage, the crowd parting to let them through.

As they stumbled into a quieter hallway, Y/N crossed her arms. “You really like me?”

Peter nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah. I do. A lot.”

She sighed, her frustration finally melting. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“I know,” he said with a small smile. “But i could be your idiot.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling back. “Come on, Parker. Let’s go find somewhere soundproof.”

“Wait, what—oh! Okay,” Peter stammered, following her down the hall.

Back in the ballroom, Tony grabbed a drink and muttered to Pepper, “I give it two weeks before they pull this stunt again.”

—————————————————————————

yall just watched how to lose a guy in ten days and could help myself <\3

[worldsmessiestwriter]

A Pretty Good Bad Idea

tw - nothing

word count - ?

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

inspired by bad idea from waitress the musical

—————————————————————————

The hum of the Stark Tower lab was a comforting constant as Y/N Stark and Peter Parker worked side by side, tinkering with Peter’s malfunctioning web shooters. The occasional spark from the tools and the soft clatter of metal parts filled the air, but it was the comfortable silence between them that spoke volumes. They were best friends, always had been, but lately, something unspoken hung in the air.

Peter glanced at Y/N as she delicately adjusted a small wire. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, her lips slightly pursed. He tore his eyes away quickly, focusing back on his web shooters. This is not the time, Parker.

“Okay,” Y/N said, her voice breaking the silence. “Try it now.”

Peter raised his arm and aimed at the far wall. With a swift motion, he activated the shooter, and—nothing.

He groaned. “Great. It’s still not working.”

Y/N laughed softly. “Well, let’s take another look. We’ll figure it out.”

As they leaned over the device again, their shoulders brushed, sending a jolt through both of them. Peter cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way her touch lingered in his mind.

“Thanks for helping me with this,” Peter said, his voice quieter. “I know you’ve got a lot going on.”

Y/N shrugged, her eyes flicking to his. “It’s no big deal. I’d rather be here than… well, you know.”

Peter did know. Her boyfriend, Brett, was a complete jerk. Peter had never understood what she saw in him. He was controlling, condescending, and had an uncanny knack for making Y/N feel small.

Y/N sighed, pulling her gaze away. “I don’t know why I’m still with him.”

Peter swallowed hard, his heart racing. “You deserve better.”

Silence fell again, but it was charged now, buzzing with unspoken words. They were too close, the air too thick. It was a bad idea, they both knew it, but something in the moment pulled them together.

Without thinking, Peter leaned in, and Y/N met him halfway. Their lips collided softly at first, hesitant, but then the kiss deepened. It was like a dam breaking, all the tension and unspoken feelings flooding out.

They pulled back, breathless.

“Oh, God,” Y/N muttered, her hand flying to her lips. “Peter, we can’t—”

“I know,” Peter said quickly. “It’s a terrible idea.”

“Awful,” she agreed. “I have a boyfriend.”

“And you’re my bosses daughter,” Peter added, groaning. “He’s going to kill me.”

They stared at each other, wide-eyed, and then… they kissed again. It was impossible to resist. The magnetic pull between them was undeniable, no matter how bad of an idea it was.

Peter’s hands cupped her face, and Y/N’s fingers tangled in his hair. It was messy, desperate, and everything they shouldn’t be doing.

And then, the door to the lab slid open.

“Y/N, Peter—” Tony Stark’s voice froze mid-sentence.

They jumped apart, faces flushed, and Peter felt his heart stop.

Tony raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Well, this looks cozy.”

Y/N’s face burned with embarrassment. “Dad, it’s not—”

Tony held up a hand. “I don’t need to know. Really, I don’t.”

Peter stammered, “Mr. Stark, I—”

Tony sighed, rubbing his temples. “Look, I’m not thrilled about this, but I’m not blind. Just… don’t make me regret trusting you two.”

As Tony turned to leave, he paused. “Oh, and Y/N? Dump Brett. Seriously.”

With that, he walked out, leaving them in stunned silence.

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “That was terrible.”

Peter nodded, his heart still racing. “We’re horrible.”

But as their eyes met, a small smile tugged at the corners of Y/N’s lips. “A pretty good bad idea, though.”

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

y/n stark and peter parker

face claim - jenna ortega

tt - worldsmessiestwriter

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Momentary Lapse in Judgment.

tw - none

word count - ??

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

——————————————————

Y/N Stark always thought she was destined for something more. Being Tony Stark’s daughter came with certain expectations: brilliance, charisma, and, of course, high standards. She prided herself on her sharp tongue, her quick wit, and her ability to brush off any affection with a roll of her eyes and a sarcastic quip.

Peter Parker? He was an anomaly in her world. The Queens-born, tech-savvy, spider-powered nerd somehow managed to worm his way into her life, much to her chagrin. Their relationship was built on a foundation of banter—playful, biting, and sometimes a little too cutting. It was their thing.

“Nice web-shooters, Parker. Did you get them out of a cereal box?” Y/N teased, leaning against the lab bench with a smirk.

Peter shot her a look, adjusting his goggles. “Better than your last invention. What was it? A self-tying shoelace? Groundbreaking.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms. “At least I’m not swinging around the city like a human piñata.”

This was their routine. The bickering, the sarcastic jabs, the eye rolls. It was comfortable, predictable. But something had shifted lately. There was a new tension in the air, something neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

It all came to a head one evening, after a late-night lab session. Y/N was working on a new prototype while Peter fiddled with his suit upgrades. The room was quiet, save for the hum of machines and the occasional clink of tools. They were both tired, the exhaustion making their usual banter sharper than usual.

“Hey, Stark,” Peter called out, not looking up from his work. “You ever think about lowering those impossible standards of yours?”

Y/N shot him a glare. “Why? Feeling like you’re finally good enough for me?”

Peter chuckled, the sound surprisingly soft. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just tired of pretending I don’t like you.”

Y/N froze, the words hanging in the air between them. She opened her mouth to retort, to throw some biting remark back at him, but nothing came out. Instead, she found herself staring at him, really looking at him for the first time in a while.

Peter met her gaze, his usual smirk replaced with something more serious, more vulnerable. And in that moment, something clicked.

Without thinking, without considering the consequences, Y/N crossed the room and kissed him. It was sudden, unexpected, and it knocked the wind out of both of them. For a moment, everything else faded away—the lab, the banter, the expectations.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s mind was racing. She felt lightheaded, almost dizzy, but she quickly masked it with her usual bravado.

“Well,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I think my standards just hit rock bottom.”

Peter laughed, shaking his head. “You can’t even admit you like me, can you?”

Y/N huffed, stepping back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. That was… a momentary lapse in judgment.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Right. Because kissing me was such a terrible mistake.”

She rolled her eyes, turning away to hide the blush creeping up her neck. “Don’t get used to it, Parker. I still have standards.”

But even as she said the words, Y/N couldn’t ignore the way her heart raced whenever she looked at him. Maybe her standards were changing. Or maybe, just maybe, she was starting to realize that Peter Parker was exactly what she needed.

As she walked out of the lab, she couldn’t help but smile. Maybe the stars were finally aligning, and for once, she didn’t mind letting her guard down.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

𖦹 y/n stark and tony 𖦹

face claim for y/n - ariana greenblatt

tt - worldsmessiestwriter

[worldsmessiestwriter]

¡New tiktok edit account¡

Hiya everyone! Aside from my fanfics, I have a TikTok account that goes alongside the fics, intertwining them and just generally being fun. If you could check it out, I would really appreciate it. Love you all! - mads 🕸️

@worldsmessiestwriter on tt 𖦹

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Just lunch.

tw - none

word count - 978

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

inspired by Only Tea from great gatsby the musical

—————————————————————————

The soft hum of Tony Stark’s voice filled Peter Parker’s Bluetooth earpiece as he maneuvered through Midtown traffic on his way home. The sky was painted in hues of orange and gold, but Peter barely noticed, too consumed by the whirlwind of emotions triggered by the phone call he was still reeling from.

“Relax, kid,” Tony drawled, clearly smirking on the other end. “It’s just lunch. A little bread, maybe some salad. You’ve had lunch before, right? You’re not gonna implode.”

Peter gripped the steering wheel tighter, his voice strained. “Yeah, but I’ve never had this lunch before, Mr. Stark! What do I even say to her? How do I start? Do I start? Should I bring flowers? Does she like flowers? Oh my God, what if she’s allergic to flowers and I kill her on the spot—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Tony cut in. “Stop spiraling. First of all, nobody’s allergic to all flowers, Parker. And second of all, she’s not some stranger you met on Tinder. It’s Y/N. You’ve done this dance before.”

“But we haven’t,” Peter argued, his voice rising with panic. “Not since—well, not since she…”

Tony sighed, a rare moment of genuine understanding sneaking into his tone. “Look, I get it. Five years is a long time. But you’re forgetting one key detail here, kid.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“She’s Y/N.”

Peter blinked at the simplicity of it, his mind scrambling for a way to make sense of the statement.

Tony continued, his voice growing more patient. “You think she doesn’t remember you? Doesn’t care? Kid, the second she came back, I asked her what she wanted. You know what she said?”

Peter swallowed. “What?”

“She said, ‘Where’s Peter?’” Tony’s voice softened slightly, but his trademark sass quickly returned. “Not ‘where’s Dad?’ Not ‘how’s the company?’ Not even, ‘wow, what’s up with that whole universe-dusting situation?’ You. She wanted you.”

Peter’s chest tightened, his breath hitching.

“So, take a deep breath,” Tony instructed. “She’s not some long-lost pen pal. She’s your girl. And all you have to do is show up, eat some carbs, and let her remind you why you fell for her in the first place. Easy-peasy.”

“Easy-peasy?” Peter repeated incredulously. “Easy for you to say! You’re Tony Stark! I’m just… me. What if I mess this up? What if she realizes I’m not the guy she remembers? I’m a workaholic now! I wear ties!”

Tony let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, no! Not ties! How will she ever recover?”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter groaned, pressing a hand to his forehead as he pulled into the parking garage of his apartment building. “I’m serious. What if she doesn’t… feel the same?”

Tony paused for a moment, and Peter could hear the faint clinking of glassware in the background, probably Tony making himself a drink. When he finally spoke, his tone was steadier, calmer.

“She will, kid. I promise you, she will.”

Later that night, Peter paced the length of his apartment, phone in hand, scrolling through Google for advice that no search engine could possibly provide. His thoughts ping-ponged wildly:

What should I wear? What’s the perfect “Hey, I’m a professional now, but I’m still your dorky Peter” outfit? A blazer? Too formal. Jeans? Too casual. Oh my God, what if she thinks I’ve let myself go? Should I do push-ups right now? Is there enough time to get in shape before tomorrow?

Frustrated, he flopped onto his couch and grabbed a pillow, muffling his scream into it.

He dialed Happy’s number on instinct, but when the man answered with, “This better be important,” Peter panicked and hung up immediately.

Instead, he called Tony. Again.

“Kid, I swear if you’re calling me about flowers again—”

“I don’t know what to say! What if I walk in and freeze? Or worse, what if I talk too much and say something stupid? What if I accidentally bring up the Snap? I can’t just be like, ‘Hey, remember when you disintegrated in my arms?’ That’s not lunch conversation!”

“Peter,” Tony groaned, clearly exasperated but still indulgent. “It’s only lunch. You’re acting like you’re about to propose or give a TED Talk on nanotechnology.”

Peter sat up straight, alarmed. “Should I prepare a speech?”

“No!” Tony practically yelled. “For crying out loud, Parker, if you don’t stop overthinking this, I’m gonna send Pepper to come knock some sense into you. Or Morgan. She’s scarier.”

Peter groaned, leaning back against the couch and covering his face with his hands. “I can’t help it, Mr. Stark. This feels… big.”

“It is big,” Tony said, his voice gentler now. “But you don’t have to handle it all at once. Just show up. Let it happen. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”

The next day, as Peter drove to the lakeside cottage, his mind raced with every possible worst-case scenario. He was running early—so early, in fact, that he had time to pull over at a rest stop and scream into his jacket sleeve again.

When he finally arrived, Tony was waiting on the porch, sipping a cup of coffee like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You’re late,” Tony teased as Peter walked up the steps.

Peter frowned. “I’m ten minutes early.”

“Yeah, well, you look like you’ve been marinating in anxiety for hours. Thought you might need a little nudge.” Tony patted him on the back and leaned in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “Remember: it’s just lunch.”

Peter nodded, trying to believe it.

But when he saw Y/N standing on the dock, laughing with Morgan as the wind caught her hair, his breath hitched, and for the first time in five years, his world felt whole again.

“Just lunch,” he whispered to himself, smiling despite his nerves. Maybe Tony was right after all.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Just a good samaritan.

tw - loss, angst and heartbreak.

word count - ?

Peter Parker x Reader

inspired by The Manuscript by Taylor Swift.

—————————————————————————

Peter Parker hadn’t planned on starting over—not like this. Yet, here he was, in a cramped, dingy apartment where the radiator clanged every night like clockwork. The familiar buzz of loneliness threatened to seep through the thin walls.

Until one knock on his door changed everything.

Peter opened it to find a young woman standing there, holding a plate of muffins. She smiled, her breath fogging in the chilly hallway.

“Hi! I’m Y/N, from across the hall,” she said, extending the plate like an offering. “I thought I’d bring you these. Welcome to the building.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “Homemade muffins? Either you’re angling for a favor, or you’re trying to poison me.”

She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t waver. “No, I’m just a good Samaritan!”

He laughed softly, taking the plate. “Well, I won’t say no to free food. Thanks, Y/N.”

It started small—chats in the hallway, shared complaints about the broken elevator, casual banter when they ran into each other at the corner bodega. But small turned into something else. Peter found himself smiling more, his nights a little less heavy with the weight of memories and regrets.

And Y/N, well, she hadn’t planned on her next-door neighbor being so… magnetic. It wasn’t just the messy hair or the boyish charm. It was the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, the way he spoke like someone who had lost everything and still managed to find reasons to laugh.

One rainy evening, they found themselves on Peter’s couch, a marathon of bad action movies playing in the background. Y/N was laughing at some ridiculous explosion on-screen when Peter leaned closer, his gaze warm and teasing.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft but playful, “you could’ve just told me you wanted an excuse to hang out. The muffins were a nice touch, though.”

“Oh, please,” Y/N shot back, throwing a piece of popcorn at him. “Don’t flatter yourself, Parker.”

But her heart was pounding, and she knew he could see the flush creeping up her neck.

He grinned, catching the popcorn mid-air. “Caught you.”

As the weeks passed, their connection deepened. Peter started making coffee every morning in a French press he’d borrowed from Y/N, his once-solitary mornings now filled with the memory of her laughter. She’d come over and bring cereal—always something childish, like Lucky Charms or Froot Loops—and they’d eat it straight from the box while trading stories about their day.

They teased, they laughed, they argued about stupid things like whose turn it was to pick the movie. But there was always an underlying current of something more.

One night, as they stood on the fire escape watching the city lights, Y/N turned to him. “You’re different, you know,” she said softly.

He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Different how?”

“Like… you’ve lived a thousand lives already. But you’re still here, still trying.”

Peter swallowed hard, his chest tightening. “I’m just trying to make the most of this one,” he murmured.

They were happy—for a while. But happiness for Peter Parker always came with a risk.

The cracks began to show in quiet moments. Y/N would catch him staring off into the distance, his expression haunted. He’d pull away sometimes, retreating into himself with no explanation. She didn’t push.

And then came the nights when he wouldn’t come home at all.

She knew there was more to him than he let on, more than just the sweet, clever boy who made her laugh until her sides hurt. But Peter was a storm, and she was a bystander caught in the winds.

One morning, after another night of absence, Peter found her sitting on his couch, a bowl of cereal in her lap. She didn’t look up when he walked in.

"You could have told me, you know," she said quietly.

“Told you what?”

Y/N’s eyes remained fixed on the bowl of Lucky Charms, her spoon idly swirling the milk. Her voice was steady, but Peter could hear the undercurrent of something fragile in it.

“That you’re unhappy,” she said finally, looking up at him with a mixture of hurt and resignation.

Peter froze in the doorway, his heart lurching. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words caught in his throat.

“I’ve tried to ignore it,” she continued, her tone soft but unwavering. “The nights you disappear. The way you look at me sometimes, like I’m here, but you’re somewhere else. I didn’t want to push, because I thought—” Her voice cracked. “I thought maybe you’d let me in eventually.”

“Y/N…” His voice was barely above a whisper. He stepped closer, his hands in his pockets like they could shield him from the weight of her words.

“I don’t need you to tell me everything, Peter,” she said, standing now, the bowl abandoned on the table. “I just needed to know you wanted me to be here. That I wasn’t… some temporary distraction.”

“You’re not.” The words rushed out of him, desperate and raw. “You’re not a distraction, Y/N. You’re… you’re the one good thing I’ve had in a long time.”

Her eyes softened, but the hurt lingered. “Then why do you keep pushing me away?”

Peter raked a hand through his hair, his voice trembling. “Because everyone I let in gets hurt. Everyone I care about… I lose them.” He looked at her, his eyes pleading. “I can’t lose you, too.”

They tried. For weeks after that conversation, they tried. Y/N stayed. Peter let her in—little by little, piece by piece. He told her about his Aunt May, about the guilt he carried for the people he couldn’t save. He didn’t tell her everything—not about Spider-Man, not about the spell that had wiped him from everyone’s memory—but he told her enough.

And for a while, it worked. They found a rhythm, a fragile balance. Mornings with coffee and cereal, late-night walks around the city, quiet moments on the fire escape where words weren’t needed.

But the cracks never fully healed.

It was another late night when it finally came undone.

Peter had been gone for hours, and Y/N was waiting by the window, the city lights casting shadows across her face. When the door finally creaked open, she didn’t turn.

“Long night?” she asked, her voice clipped.

Peter sighed, closing the door behind him. “Y/N, I—”

“Don’t,” she interrupted, standing and facing him. “Don’t give me some half-assed excuse. Just tell me the truth. Are we really doing this? Or are you just waiting for me to leave?”

His silence was answer enough.

Her shoulders sagged, and she let out a bitter laugh. “I thought so.”

“Y/N, it’s not you,” Peter said, his voice breaking. “It’s me. It’s my life. It’s… everything. I thought I could do this, but—”

“But you can’t,” she finished for him, her voice trembling.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching for hers, but she pulled away.

“I can’t be the person who keeps waiting for you to come back,” she said softly. “I love you, Peter. But I deserve more than this.”

The morning after, the apartment felt emptier than it ever had. Peter stared at the French press on the counter, the one she’d insisted he keep because “store-bought coffee is a crime against humanity.”

He made a cup, but it didn’t taste the same.

Days turned into weeks. He saw her sometimes, in passing, her smile polite but distant. She seemed brighter somehow, freer. Peter was happy for her, even as it broke him.

Years later, Peter found himself in a café on the other side of the city. He was flipping through a book when he heard a familiar laugh.

He looked up and saw her—Y/N, sitting at a corner table, her hair glowing in the afternoon sun. She was with someone, a man who made her laugh the way Peter once had.

He smiled faintly, closing the book and standing to leave. He didn’t approach her—didn’t interrupt. He just watched for a moment, the weight in his chest both heavy and comforting.

As he stepped out onto the street, the wind tugging at his coat, he thought of her words: “I just needed to know you wanted me to be here.”

And finally Peter allowed himself to let her go.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

I waited.

tw - just heartbreak :(

word count - idek… short?

Peter Parker x Stark! reader

inspired by Peter by Taylor Swift

—————————————————————————

The night Peter Parker became an intern at Stark Industries, Y/N Stark didn’t think much of him. He was just another kid trying to impress her dad, his awkwardness almost charming in its sincerity. But over time, something shifted. He became more than the boy with quick reflexes and a penchant for overexplaining; he became her safe place, her partner, her first love.

For years, they built a life together in the chaos of superheroes and scientific breakthroughs. Late nights turned into mornings spent tangled in blankets, lab projects turned into private jokes, and Y/N found herself falling deeper into the kind of love she never thought she deserved.

Her father teased them mercilessly. “You and Queens over there, huh?” Tony would smirk, pointing at Peter like he was the punchline to a joke. But she saw the way her dad’s expression softened whenever Peter’s hand brushed hers, the way Tony watched Peter with a kind of reluctant approval.

Peter made her believe in forever.

As the blip began, Y/N felt it before she saw it. Peter’s hand, always so steady, began to tremble in hers. She turned to him, her heart plummeting as she saw the fear in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head in denial. “No, no, Peter, don’t—please—”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his face crumpling as his body began to disintegrate. “I’ll come back. I promise, I’ll come find you.”

“You can’t leave me!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face as she clung to him, as though sheer force of will could hold him together. “You said you’d stay, Peter! You promised—”

“I love you, i promise” he said softly, and then he was gone, his hand slipping from hers as his body turned to ash.

Y/N fell to her knees, numb and broken, her father’s voice distant in the background as the world around her collapsed.

The years after the blip were a slow-motion nightmare.

Y/N refused to let go of Peter’s promise. She replayed his last words over and over, clinging to them like a lifeline. I’ll come back. I’ll find you. She left a lamp burning in her room every night, a quiet beacon of hope for the boy she couldn’t imagine living without.

Her father did his best to pull her out of the darkness, but even Tony Stark’s sharp wit and stubborn resilience couldn’t fix the hole Peter’s absence left in her heart.

Y/N was alone.

She tried to move on, to pick up the pieces, but every corner of her life reminded her of Peter. His hoodie tucked in the back of her closet. His sketches of upgraded web-shooters in the lab. The way he used to laugh when she teased him, his voice echoing in her memory like a ghost.

Every night, she sat by the window, looking up at the stars, wondering if he was out there somewhere, looking back at her.

One day, while clearing out her father’s workshop, Y/N stumbled upon an old photo.

It was of her, Peter, and Tony, taken during one of their late nights in the lab. Peter had his arm slung around her shoulders, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. Tony stood behind them, rolling his eyes but smiling nonetheless.

Y/N stared at the photo, her breath hitching. She ran her fingers over Peter’s face, tracing the boy she had loved with everything she had.

And for the first time, she let herself admit the truth.

He wasn’t coming back.

The weight of it crashed over her like a tidal wave, drowning her in grief she had kept locked away for so long. She sank to the floor, clutching the photo to her chest, sobbing so hard she thought her heart might give out.

“I waited,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “I waited for you, Peter. I believed you’d come back.”

Her fingers curled around the edges of the photo, her tears soaking the edges. “You promised me. You promised, and you—” Her voice broke, the words lost to the ache in her chest.

For the first time, she let herself feel the depth of her loss—not just for Peter, but for the life they were supposed to have, the future they’d dreamed of.

The lamp in her room remained unlit that night.

Forgive me peter , please know that i tried.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

That’s the trifecta.

tw - nothing

word count - 1,446

Peter Parker x Spoiled Stark! Reader

—————————————————————————

Tony Stark always claimed to be a genius, but lately, Y/N Stark was convinced her father was losing his touch. His latest invention? A scrawny high school intern named Peter Parker, who had somehow managed to worm his way into Tony’s good graces—and worse, into her carefully curated world.

For months now, her father had been spending hours mentoring Peter, teaching him things Y/N had assumed were reserved for her. The betrayal stung more than she cared to admit, so she covered it the only way she knew how: by making Peter’s life completely miserable.

And Peter, to his credit, was no pushover. Sure, he’d try to ignore her snide comments and fake-sweet tone, but every so often, he’d snap back. To Y/N, it was thrilling. To Peter, it was exhausting.

“Parker, you’re in my seat,” Y/N said one afternoon, stepping into her father’s lab with the kind of air that made everyone instinctively straighten up. She wasn’t wearing her school uniform today—Tony had summoned her for some family meeting—but her designer outfit looked as though it cost more than the entire workshop.

Peter didn’t bother looking up from the blueprint he was studying. “It’s not your seat, Y/N. It’s just a chair.”

“Aw, how quaint,” she said, leaning over the table so her perfectly polished nails tapped against the blueprint. “But it is my seat because this is my father’s lab. You? You’re just visiting.”

Peter finally looked up, clearly annoyed. “I’ve been working here all afternoon. You’ve been, what? Shopping? Getting another manicure?”

“Guilty,” Y/N said with a dazzling smile. “But let’s not act like I don’t contribute. I’m a Stark. My existence contributes.”

“Sure,” Peter said flatly. “That must be exhausting for you.”

Tony’s voice cut through before Y/N could retort. “Alright, that’s enough.” He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Y/N, stop terrorizing Parker. Parker, stop taking the bait.”

“Who’s baiting who?” Y/N said innocently, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Starting Monday,” he said casually, “you’re transferring to Midtown High.”

Y/N froze. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Tony said. “You and Parker are going to the same school. I think spending more time together will help you two work out… whatever this is.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered, plastering on her usual radiant smile. “You’re funny, Dad. But no.”

Tony smirked. “It’s not up for discussion, kiddo.”

Her smile faltered. “But why? I already have friends, fans and status at my school.”

“Exactly,” Tony said. “Time to shake things up. You’ll survive.”

Y/N had prepared for her debut like it was a runway show. She stepped onto the Midtown High campus in a outfit tailored to perfection, her signature confident smile in place. The effect was immediate: heads turned, whispers spread, and within minutes, she had a flock of curious students trailing behind her.

“Oh, my God,” one girl gushed. “You’re so pretty. Are you, like, famous?”

Y/N tilted her head with a practiced laugh. “Not officially. But give it time.”

By lunchtime, she was firmly entrenched at the most exclusive table in the cafeteria. She sat at the center, sipping sparkling water she’d brought from home while her new entourage hung on her every word.

Peter, sitting at his usual table with Ned and MJ, stared in disbelief. “She’s been here for, what, five hours? How is she already the most popular person in school?”

“She’s rich, confident, and mean,” MJ said without looking up from her book. “That’s the trifecta.”

Y/N caught Peter’s eye from across the cafeteria and gave him a little wave, her smile impossibly sweet. Peter groaned.

“Parker!” she called, loud enough for the room to hear. “Shouldn’t you be eating your vegetables? You need to keep up your strength for all that… science-ing.”

Ned snickered, but Peter just glared. “She’s the worst.”

Y/N’s transition to Midtown High wasn’t just about popularity—it was another battleground for her rivalry with Peter.

In physics, the teacher announced a pop quiz, and Y/N immediately raised her hand. “Do we really need a quiz? I mean, it’s so basic. Even Parker might pass.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said brightly, as if he’d genuinely thanked her.

When the grades came back, Y/N had scored a near-perfect 98%. Peter, to his frustration, had a 96%.

“Aw, so close,” Y/N said as they exited the classroom. “Maybe next time, Parker.”

“It’s two points,” Peter said, gritting his teeth.

“Two points that separate the winners from the losers,” Y/N said, flashing him a dazzling smile.

The real showdown came a few weeks later at a party thrown by one of the popular kids. Naturally, Y/N was the star of the event, gliding through the room like royalty. Peter, dragged there by Ned and MJ, tried to stay out of her way.

But Y/N, of course, found him.

“Parker,” she said, appearing at his side with a drink in hand. “You clean up… decently. For a boy from Queens.”

Peter turned to face her, already annoyed. “And you’re still the same, no matter where you go.”

“Flattered,” Y/N said, raising her glass. “But you’ll have to be more specific. Same gorgeous face? Same impeccable style?”

Peter smirked. “Same need to make everything about you.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for just a second before she recovered. “It’s not a ‘need,’ Peter. It’s a gift. One you clearly don’t have.”

Before he could respond, the crowd called for a game of trivia. Naturally, Y/N and Peter ended up on opposing teams.

The competition was fierce, each of them determined to outshine the other. When Y/N’s team finally won, she couldn’t resist throwing Peter a smug smile.

“Better luck next time, Parker,” she said, flipping her hair as she walked away.

Despite their constant bickering, there were moments when their rivalry softened. One afternoon, during a group project, they found themselves working late in the library.

“You know,” Peter said, breaking the silence, “you don’t always have to be… like this.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked, not looking up.

Peter hesitated. “Perfect. It’s okay to just be yourself.”

Y/N’s hand froze mid-note, but she quickly recovered, her smile returning. “Why would I settle for ‘just myself’ when I can be everything?”

Peter sighed and despite his urges he didn’t leave. for the rest of the night, they worked in silence—until Y/N stole his last slice of pizza, just to prove she could.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Hey so can I have a scenario where Peter’s wearing his spider suit, he just arrives at their place, hasn’t changed yet, and he’s being overly cheeky/sassy and pushing his luck with s/o. To shut him up, s/o pulls up his mask, makes it seem like they gonna kiss and then folds his mask over his eyes and now he can not see and s/o leaves him there. Sometimes they wish to throw a soft loaf of bread at him?

—————————————————————————

Do you ever stop talking?

tw - nothing

word count -

Peter Parker x Reader

—————————————————————————

Peter Parker swung through the window of your apartment like a man on a mission, landing with a flourish that was entirely unnecessary. He was still in his Spider-Man suit, looking every bit the cocky superhero as he stood there with his hands on his hips.

“Well, well, well,” he said, his voice dripping with mock arrogance. “Look who’s here to save the day—again.”

You didn’t look up from your laptop. “What is it this time? A cat stuck in a tree? Someone jaywalking? Truly heroic.”

Peter pressed a hand to his chest in mock outrage. “Excuse you. I just stopped a major robbery and took down six guys. One of them was built like Dwayne Johnson on steroids. I’m basically New York’s MVP.”

“Do they hand out medals for exaggerating?” you quipped, still not looking at him.

“Oh, you wound me y/n” Peter said, flopping onto the couch beside you. He sprawled dramatically, his arms draped over the backrest like he was some kind of king lounging on a throne. “Here I am, risking life and limb for this city, and you can’t even say, ‘Wow, Peter, you’re so amazing.’ Or, ‘Peter, you’re my hero.’”

“Peter, you’re so amazing,” you deadpanned, finally glancing at him.

Peter lit up. “See? Was that so hard? You know, it’s okay to admire me. I’m very admire-able.”

“Is that even a word?”

“It is now.”

You rolled your eyes and returned to your laptop, trying to ignore him. But Peter wasn’t done.

“Admit it,” he said, leaning closer to you. “You were worried about me out there. Sitting here, biting your nails, thinking, ‘Oh no, what if my Spider-Boyfriend doesn’t come home?’”

You paused, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Spider-Boyfriend?”

Peter shrugged. “Catchy, right? Or we could try something else. Amazing Spider-Beau? My Spectacular spider-soulmate? Ooh, I like that one—has a nice ring to it.”

“Peter,” you said, your tone flat.

“Yes, love of my life?” he asked sweetly.

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not when I’m on a roll,” he said with a grin. “And right now? I am on fire. I mean, seriously, how lucky are you to—”

Before he could finish, you suddenly leaned in, your eyes locking with his. Peter’s words faltered, and his mouth opened slightly as if he couldn’t believe his luck.

“Oh,” he said, his voice softening. “Uh, I mean—yeah, you’re lucky. Or… maybe I’m lucky? Are we both lucky? Is that how this works?”

You smiled sweetly, reaching up to tug his mask up just enough to expose his lips. Peter froze, anticipation lighting up his face.

“Finally,” he murmured. “A reward for—”

In one swift motion, you pulled the mask all the way up and over his eyes, leaving him completely blind.

“Wait, what—? Hey!” Peter yelped, fumbling to fix it, but you were already out of his reach.

You stood up, grinning as you crossed the room. “That’s what you get for being too sassy, Spider-Boy.”

“It’s Spider-Man!” Peter protested, spinning around blindly on the couch. “What is this? Are you serious? I can’t see!”

“Use your Spidey senses,” you called over your shoulder, heading toward the kitchen.

Peter groaned, flailing in the general direction of your voice. “Babe, come on. This is cruel! What kind of girlfriend does this to her superhero boyfriend?”

“The kind with zero tolerance for sass,” you shot back, smirking.

Peter huffed, flopping back onto the couch dramatically. “Unbelievable. Here I am, saving the world, and this is how I’m treated? Betrayed by my own girlfriend. The tragedy.”

You poked your head back into the room, watching him flail in mock despair. “You’ll survive, drama queen.”

“Will I?” he called, still blinded. “What if I bump into something and die? What if I trip and fall out the window?”

“Then I’ll tell the city you were a hero to the very end,” you teased, grabbing a snack from the counter.

Peter tugged at his mask again, finally managing to pull it down just enough to uncover his eyes. He looked at you with a mix of betrayal and amusement. “You are so lucky I love you.”

You smirked. “And you’re lucky I haven’t done worse.”

Peter grinned, standing up and brushing himself off. “Oh, it’s on now. You’ve started a war, and I will win.”

“Good luck with that,” you said, already turning back to your laptop.

As Peter sat back down beside you, plotting his revenge, you couldn’t help but smile. He might be overly cheeky and impossible to shut up, but he was yours—and that made putting up with his antics more than worth it.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Cross the line.

tw - nothing

word count - 1,095

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

—————————————————————————

The Stark Tower lab was buzzing with activity. Machines hummed, holograms danced in midair, and the faint smell of soldering metal lingered in the air. Y/N Stark leaned against a workbench, twirling a small tool in her hand while Peter Parker adjusted the settings on a piece of tech he was designing. The atmosphere was calm—until it wasn’t.

Their conversation had started innocently enough: a casual debate about heroes and villains while brainstorming upgrades for a new suit. But as often happened with Y/N and Peter, it quickly grew heated.

“I’m just saying,” Peter began, straightening up and gesturing with a wrench in hand, “villains choose to hurt people. Heroes don’t. That’s what makes them villains.”

Y/N scoffed, setting down her tool. “It’s not that black and white, Peter. People don’t wake up and say, ‘Hey, I’m gonna be a villain today.’ Most of the time, they have reasons—good reasons. Desperation. Circumstance. It’s not like anyone’s born evil.”

“Good reasons?” Peter said, raising an eyebrow. “What’s a ‘good reason’ to blow up a building or rob a bank?”

“Robin Hood,” Y/N countered instantly.

Peter blinked. “What?”

“Robin Hood,” Y/N repeated, crossing her arms. “He stole from the rich to give to the poor. Illegal? Sure. Immoral? That’s up for debate. But was he a villain?”

Peter hesitated. “That’s… different.”

“Is it, though?” Y/N pressed, stepping closer. “He broke the law. He hurt people who were hoarding wealth while others starved. By your definition, he’s a villain.”

Peter opened his mouth to respond but stopped short. Y/N continued, her voice steady and challenging.

“Look, every choice has shades of grey. There are rules for a reason, sure, but sometimes those rules aren’t fair. Sometimes you have to cross the line to do what’s right.”

Peter shook his head, his brow furrowing. “That’s a slippery slope. Once you justify one bad thing, where does it stop? You can’t just—”

“Okay,” Y/N interrupted, raising her hand. “Let’s talk about my dad.”

That stopped Peter in his tracks.

“Tony Stark,” Y/N said, gesturing broadly. “Brilliant inventor, genius billionaire, hero. But he wasn’t always a hero, was he? He made weapons—really bad ones. And yeah, he did it for reasons: funding his company, protecting his country, whatever. But people got hurt. Was he a villain then?”

Peter’s jaw tightened. “He changed.”

“Exactly!” Y/N exclaimed. “He realized he was wrong and did something about it. But if someone judged him by his past alone, they’d never see the hero he became.”

Peter set down the wrench, frustration flickering in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean the harm he caused was okay. People suffered because of those weapons, Y/N. You can’t ignore that.”

“I’m not ignoring it,” Y/N said, her tone softening. “But you’re ignoring the fact that people don’t always have the luxury of playing it clean. My dad did bad things, but he did them for reasons he believed were right at the time. And not everyone has the privilege to make perfect choices, Peter.”

Peter frowned. “Privilege? What does that have to do with this?”

“It has everything to do with this,” Y/N said, frustration seeping into her voice. “You grew up with Aunt May. She loves you, she supports you, and she’s always been there for you. You’re a good guy, Peter, and that’s amazing. But not everyone gets that. Some people don’t have anyone. Or they’re stuck in systems that don’t give them a way out. So yeah, they do bad things. But not because they’re bad people.”

Peter looked away, guilt flickering across his face.

“Look,” Y/N continued, stepping closer, “I’m not saying it’s okay to hurt people. It’s not. But you can’t just write someone off as a villain without understanding why they did what they did. Sometimes, you can’t afford to play it clean. And sometimes, there’s no perfect solution.”

Peter was quiet for a long moment. “But where do you draw the line? How do you know when it’s okay to cross it?”

Y/N hesitated. “You don’t. You just… trust your gut. You do what you think is right. For me, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do if it meant saving someone I care about. Even if it means getting my hands a little bit dirty.”

Peter looked at her, his expression conflicted. “I get that. I do. But doesn’t that just make things worse? If everyone starts bending the rules, what happens to the world?”

Y/N smiled faintly. “The world’s already broken, Peter. Sometimes, fixing it means breaking a few more pieces. But if you’re doing it for the right reasons… maybe it’s worth it.”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I guess I just don’t know if I could do that. I don’t think I’d ever feel right about crossing that line.”

“And that’s what makes you you,” Y/N said, patting his shoulder. “You’re the guy who believes in the rules, who thinks good will always win if you try hard enough. And that’s not a bad thing, Peter. But just remember—not everyone has that luxury.”

Peter gave her a small, hesitant smile. “I’ll think about it. But you know this doesn’t mean I’m letting you win this argument, right?”

Y/N grinned, picking up her tool again. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, Spider-Boy.”

Peter groaned. “It’s Spider-Man!”

“Sure it is,” Y/N teased, turning back to her project.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

bring back 2021 fics like clint in the vents thors pop tarts

I miss avenger fics😔.

[worldsmessiestwriter]

*On the quinjet*

Steve: I think this is the most peaceful it's ever been post-mission

Clint: Oddly... serene

Natasha: No blood, no arguing, no press, no clean up. It's almost too good to be true

Bruce: It kind of feels like we're missing a part of us

Everyone: Hm.

Everyone:

Tony: WE FORGOT THE KID

*20 minutes later*

Tony: Why didn't you call us after we left you?!?

Peter: Oh I thought that was on purpose. I was just gonna take the subway home

Steve: Peter we're in New Mexico.

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Hi! Welcome to my page. I primarily write Marvel fanfiction and songfics. I am currently accepting requests, so if you have a specific story in mind, feel free to send it my way, and I’ll be more than happy to write it for you! Additionally, I also publish on Wattpad under the same name, so I would appreciate it if you checked that out as well! now onto the master list.

✰ = angst

♡︎ = fluff

* = smut

♬ = songfic

��� ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★

Peter Parker

Good For You. ✰ ♬

synopsis -

Peter is struggling to balance his personal life and is failing miserably. His friends and aunt are tired of him letting them down, and it has come to a breaking point.

Inspired by Good for You from Dear Evan Hansen.

Maybe. ✰ ♬

Synopsis -

You're Tony Stark's daughter, and you and Peter Parker have broken up. You find yourself hung up on the maybes you could have had with him.

Inspired by Maybe by Gabriella Bee

When you know, you know. ♡︎ ♬

Synopsis -

Peter Parker sees you at a coffee shop and knows you're the one he's meant to be with.

Inspired by Margaret by Lana Del Rey

Don't push it, Parker. ︎♡ ✰ ︎♬

Synopsis -

You and Peter attend couples counseling, thinking it will be useful for both of you, and you end up at least halfway on the same page.

Inspired by Therapy from Tick Tick.. Boom!

Just.. Make it up to me later. ︎♡

Synopsis -

Peter Parker tends to be late to dates, but you don't mind as long as he makes it up to you later.

Waste of champagne. ︎♬

Synopsis -

Being the child of a man like Tony Stark means you were practically raised at high-society parties, so of course, you don't mind showing Peter how to fit into the "Stark lifestyle."

Inspired by new money from The Great Gatsby

Now that we don't talk. ✰ ♬

Synopsis -

Peter Parker has abandoned you and Ned for his new Stark internship, and you've had enough of his secretive life.

Inspired by Now that we don't talk by Taylor Swift

Do you ever stop talking? ︎♡

synopsis -

Peter Parker comes home from a night of fighting crime with an ego that‘s a bit too big for your liking, so naturally, you resolve it in your own way.

Cross the line. ︎♡

Synopsis -

You and Peter are in the lab discussing where to draw the moral line as a hero, and you have very different opinions.

I waited. ✰ ♬

Synopsis -

When Peter gets blipped, he tells you he'll return, so you hold out hope until one day you realize maybe you need to let go.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★

Tony Stark

The bolter. ✰ ♬

Synopsis -

You meet Tony Stark at a party and refuse to be one of his one-night flings, causing him to completely fall for you and make you his world.

Inspired by The Bolter by Taylor Swift

That killer instinct. ✰ ♬

Synopsis -

As Tony Stark's daughter, you may have learned a couple of skills from his cutthroat business days and used them to become the head cheerleader.

Inspired by Killer instinct from bring it on

I'm sorry Daddy. ✰

Synopsis -

You resembled your father in every way growing up, and now, in your teenage years, you've adopted his partying habits as well, becoming just as out of control as he was.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★

[worldsmessiestwriter]

Waste of champagne.

tw - nothing

word count - 1,179

Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

—————————————————————————

The grand ballroom of Stark Tower sparkled with opulence—glittering chandeliers overhead, rich gold and silver decor, and an endless sea of elegantly dressed people. The music was sophisticated, the air thick with conversation and champagne bubbles. It was a world Peter Parker had never imagined himself in, let alone one he found himself stumbling through like a deer in headlights.

“Relax, Parker,” Y/N Stark said, flashing him a teasing smile as she tugged him deeper into the crowd. She looked completely at home in a sparkling, floor-length dress that shimmered like liquid silver. The way she moved was so effortless, as though this world was where she belonged. Every step she took had purpose, every word dripped with confidence. She was the epitome of someone who had grown up with wealth and knew how to wield it like a weapon.

Peter, on the other hand, felt more like a fish out of water in his borrowed tuxedo. The fit was a little off, his hair stubbornly unruly under the slicked-back style she insisted on, and his tie felt like it might strangle him at any moment.

“I swear, I’m going to embarrass myself,” Peter muttered, looking around at the impeccably dressed guests.

“Oh, you absolutely will,” Y/N said, not missing a beat. “But that’s part of the charm, right? Just own it.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “This is how the other half lives, Parker. Pay attention.”

Peter was still trying to figure out how he’d gone from getting pizza with his friends to being at a Stark gala. Y/N had promised to teach him the ropes of high society, but it felt like he was in over his head. He wasn’t used to all the glitz and glam, the smiles that didn’t quite reach people’s eyes, and the way the air seemed so thick with unspoken rules.

They passed a group of older men gambling, all dressed in sharp suits, and Y/N’s presence immediately drew their attention. Peter was still trying to keep his composure when one of them, a tall, well-groomed man with a smile that was a little too wide, approached them.

“Well, well, Y/N Stark,” the man said smoothly, eyeing her up and down in a way that made Peter feel distinctly uncomfortable. “You look ravishing, as always. Care to… blow on my dice?” He held out a pair of golden dice, a cocky grin plastered on his face.

Peter’s eyes widened.

Y/N didn’t even flinch. She smiled that same dazzling, effortless smile and smoothly replied, “Are you kidding?”

Without another word, she grabbed Peter’s arm and turned away from the man, leading him through the crowd as he sputtered behind them. Peter looked at her, stunned.

“Did you just—?”

“Parker,” Y/N interrupted, arching an eyebrow. “You’ll get used to it. At these parties, guys think they can make a move on anyone who looks like they know how to have fun. You can’t let them get under your skin.”

Peter gaped at her. “I—no, I can’t believe that just happened.”

“Like I said, this world is a game, Parker,” Y/N said, her voice smooth. “You have to play it right, or else you’ll get swallowed up.” She paused, a smile curling at her lips. “I’m sure Tony would’ve told you that, but I don’t think he has the patience to explain all the nuances.”

Peter glanced across the room, spotting Tony Stark in his usual element—leaning against a column, champagne in hand, surrounded by people fawning over him. Tony gave them a quick, casual wave when he saw them approach.

“There’s my dad,” Y/N said with a smirk, like she didn’t have a care in the world. “You know, he might be the most famous man in the room, but he’s never actually here. He knows how to throw a party and still make an exit.” She nodded toward the far corner of the room, where a group of celebrities were laughing a little too loudly. “He’s probably already plotting the next one.”

Peter shook his head. “How does he do that? It’s like he owns the whole place.”

Y/N smiled, the expression almost fond. “He does. And you know what he’d say?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “ ‘Who throws a party and doesn’t attend? That’s a waste of champagne.’ ”

Peter chuckled despite himself. “So you’re telling me my first lesson in high society is to throw a party, leave, and call it a success?”

“Exactly,” Y/N replied. “And while you’re at it, don’t forget rule number two: Always look like you belong. Because in a room like this, if you act like you fit in, people will believe you do. You know, I like large parties. They’re so intimate.”

Peter blinked. “Intimate? There’s like a hundred people in here.”

“At small parties,” Y/N continued, “there isn’t any privacy. You can’t disappear at a small gathering. Everyone’s all over each other, always watching, always asking questions.” She gave a little shrug. “But here? People forget you’re even in the room.”

Peter thought about that for a moment. “I guess I can kind of see that.”

“Of course you can,” she said with a smirk. “You’re a Stark, too. You just need a little polish. But we’ll get there.” She tugged at his sleeve, leading him toward a table laden with hors d’oeuvres. “For now, I’ll teach you the most important thing about parties like this—don’t get stuck with one conversation for too long. It’s like the buffet. A little of everything. But not too much.”

Peter laughed, feeling the pressure in his chest start to ease. “Okay, I think I’m starting to get it.”

“Good. Because there’s a lot more to learn.”

And just as she said that, a new wave of guests arrived, a few more well-dressed men catching Y/N’s eye. Peter could see how they fawned over her, but Y/N remained the picture of cool indifference. They made their introductions, the guys stumbling over themselves to talk to her, but she deftly avoided their advances with the precision of a seasoned pro.

Peter couldn’t help but be impressed by how effortlessly she handled it all. She didn’t even break a sweat as she led him back to the center of the room, where Tony was already waving them over.

“See?” Y/N whispered to Peter with a grin. “This is how you do it. Just remember, you don’t have to be anyone you’re not. You just have to own the part you’re playing.”

Peter nodded, trying to soak in everything she was teaching him, and for the first time that night, he felt like maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t completely out of his depth.

After all, he had Y/N Stark as his teacher. And if anyone knew how to conquer a party, it was her.

—————————————————————————

[worldsmessiestwriter]

hey so how do you think Peter parker would deal with a s/o, who doesn’t have the same personality as him, but kind of is on the same wavelength as him in life. Doesn’t know he is a super hero, but weirdly understanding about him being busy. Like sometimes he has to cancel and s/o’s like “it’s ok, but you are so totally making this up to me”. S/o fully expects him too. Sometimes, s/o cancels cuz friend/fam/work emergency and is like “I’ll make this up to you”. And s/o actually does. Meanwhile, whenever he’s late, s/o sasses him about it, but there is no hard feelings cuz s/o is happy he turned up. Sometimes s/o is late too. (He is more late than her). S/o’s attitude is “ we’re both adults. We both got lives outside of each other”?

Just.. make it up to me later.

tw - none

word count - 647

Peter Parker x Reader

——————————————————

Peter Parker sprinted down the dimly lit streets of Queens, his breath coming out in short, sharp bursts as he ducked into an alley. He yanked off his mask, stuffing it into his backpack before tugging his hoodie up over his head. His sneakers squeaked against the pavement as he rounded the corner to his girlfriend Y/N’s apartment building.

He was thirty-two minutes late. Not his worst record, but far from ideal.

By the time he reached her door, Peter was panting and disheveled. He raised a hand to knock, only for the door to swing open before he could.

Y/N stood in the doorway, one eyebrow raised and arms crossed over her chest. She looked him up and down, taking in the tousled hair, the faint smudge of dirt on his cheek, and the slight tear in his hoodie. “Let me guess,” she said dryly. “A bus broke down, you had to help an old lady cross the street, and then you tripped over a curb?”

Peter blinked. “Uh… pretty close, actually.”

Y/N smirked, stepping aside to let him in. “You’re so predictable.”

“I really am sorry I’m late,” he said earnestly, leaning against the kitchen counter as she closed the door. “Something came up.”

“Something always comes up, Pete,” she replied, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. She didn’t sound angry, just resigned in the way someone who had accepted Peter’s chronic lateness would. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.”

Peter winced. “That’s not really a great thing to hear.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Relax. You’re here now, and that’s what counts. But you are making this up to me.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Of course I am. Dinner? Movie? A full day of me groveling at your feet?”

“Dinner and a movie,” she said, setting the mugs on the counter and pouring them both tea. “And I get to pick.”

“Deal,” Peter said quickly.

Y/N handed him a mug, her lips quirking into a smile. “I’m not mad, you know. You’re busy, I get it. We’re both adults. We’ve got lives outside of this.”

Peter’s heart swelled at her words. She was so… understanding. More than he deserved, honestly.

Still, guilt gnawed at him. She didn’t know about Spider-Man. She didn’t know that his constant tardiness, last-minute cancellations, and vague excuses were because he was out saving the city. And yet, she trusted him.

“So, what’s my makeup plan?” she asked, leaning against the counter beside him and taking a sip of her tea.

“Well,” Peter began, glancing at her with a sheepish smile, “I was thinking—”

Before he could finish, her phone buzzed on the counter. Y/N glanced at the screen and groaned. “It’s my sister,” she said, putting the mug down. “She probably needs help with the baby again.”

Peter waved a hand. “Go. It’s fine.”

Y/N frowned. “But we just got here—”

“Y/N, seriously, it’s okay,” Peter interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “Family comes first. Just… make it up to me later.” He shot her a playful grin.

Her lips curved into a smile, and she leaned up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best.”

“And don’t you forget it,” he called after her as she grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

Peter stood alone in her apartment, sipping his tea and smiling to himself.

He didn’t know how they made it work, this balancing act of two lives constantly in motion but Peter couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

—————————————————————————

ahhh first request done yay!! what a fun lil fluffy fic to write <33