Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader 

PART 1

A/N: Hello! This part is kinda long and focuses more on Peter and the reader’s relationship. I wanted to write more about them before shit hits the fan!! (The next couple of parts are gonna be crazy and low-key terrifying)! Thank you all for reading! Feel free to message me constructive criticism, suggestions, or love!!  

Warnings: Some swearing, kissing, and a short mention of violence 

(not my photo)

Part 2-

“Once there was a tree, and she loved a little boy. And everyday, the boy would come and he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play king of the forest!”

The room full of children was soon full of laughter as the kids crowded around you became highly entertained with your animated expressions while you read the classic children’s book, The Giving Tree. Many of the children that were gathered around you sat in wheelchairs, wore scarves over their heads to hide their terrifying journey of chemo, and overall, were in serious pain. It killed you inside to know that such beautiful souls were hurting, but seeing their precious smiles and hearing their endless giggles made you feel honored and touched to share this moment of happiness with them. As you continued reading the story, two little girls began to cuddle up against you and started to braid your hair, making you fall into a deep state of relaxation. You loved children, and they loved you. You wouldn’t want to be doing anything else on this Friday evening.

The rest of the Phillips campaign team, including your father and Brenton Phillips, were sitting with the children’s parents in the dining hall of the Ronald McDonald House. Phillips took the time to ensure to the parents that if elected, he would not support the notorious health bill that was being debated endlessly at Capitol Hill. The parents began to clap and nodded their heads in strong agreement. Finally, a candidate who understands and wants to protect them and their cherished children. Once Phillips was done giving his speech, everyone on the campaign team began to head to the kitchen to start serving the food they cooked for the families. Well, not everyone on the campaign team. You were in the playroom with the children, and Peter, who just arrived at the scene, was leaning against the doorframe of the playroom watching you interact with the children. He had a huge smile on his face.

Whatta sight, Peter thought to himself. He never saw you this happy before. Your skin was glowing, your newly braided hair was perfectly done, making you look like a princess, and your gorgeous smile never left your face. Beauty radiated off of you, internally and externally. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He held up the camera that was in his hands and began to capture the masterpiece that was laid out in front of him.

“‘Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest.’ And the boy did. And the tree was happy.” As you finished the book and closed the cover, you heard a faint click beside you. A faint smile grew upon your lips as you turned towards the noise and discovered Peter taking pictures of you. Pushing yourself up from your crossed-legged position and heading towards Peter, he quickly dropped his camera to his side. Your smile grew when you witnessed his face turn a bright pink. You caught him.

“Peter,” you giggled. “You’re supposed to be taking pictures of Philips, not me!”

All Peter could do in that moment was let out a light chuckle and look down at his feet. He was still stuck on the euphonious way you said his name. However, he had no choice but to finally look up at you when you gently grabbed his hand. You both stared at each other and had nervous grins across your faces. “Come help me take the kids to dinner.” And with that, you let go of his hand and started for the children.

Peter looked around the room and laid eyes on a very special kid sitting in the corner. He was feverishly drawing and coloring a picture of the one and only, Spider-man. Peter quickly walked up to the kid and kneeled down next to him. “That’s a great drawing you got there,” he said. The little boy curiously looked up at the teenager next to him. “You drew his suit perfectly! The spider in the center is exactly how it looks… in pictures,” Peter corrected himself. The little boy began to grin as Peter kept complimenting his drawing skills.

“I’m making this for Sp-Spider-man!” the boy held up his picture like Simba in the beginning of The Lion King. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

Peter’s eyes popped out of his head, like the kid just asked an insane and out-of-this-world question. “Of course he’ll like it! He’ll love it!” Seeing the pure joy on the little boy’s face made Peter’s heart bubble and fizz. “In fact, I know Spider-man. He’s one of my friends! I can give this picture to him, if you would like?”

The little boy opened his mouth in disbelief and began to nod his head frantically. “Yes, yes, yes!” shoving the picture into Peter’s arms.

The rest of the night, Peter followed Phillips around the House, and he began to form a deep appreciation and respect for the candidate. He took pictures of him serving food to the kids and adults, laughing and playing with the children, and the perfect shot: Phillips cuddled up with a little boy on a couch, both asleep with a book cracked open on his lap. As Peter showed you this picture at the end of the night, you noticed how close you were standing next to each other. Inching closer to Peter to “get a better look at the pictures,” you could feel the intense heat between your bodies. You turned your head to look up at him, but you quickly looked back down at the camera when you discovered he was already looking at you.

“[Y/N]!” You heard your father call. He was heading straight towards you and Peter. Peter began to shift back and forth on his feet uneasily. “Is this the Peter boy I’ve been hearing so much about?” he asked, holding out his hand.

Peter smiled at your father and firmly shook his hand. She talks about me? Oh, God! She talks about me! What does that mean?

“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. [Y/L/N].”

Your father flashed him a quick smile and pointed to his camera. “May I see what you captured tonight? The bar is set pretty high. [Y/N] always says that you’re the best photographer around.” You stuffed your elbow into your father’s ribs. “Dad, chill out!” you whispered, hoping that Peter wouldn’t think you’re a crazy, obsessed freak.

Peter chuckled and handed him his camera, watching as your father sifted through the camera roll. He was immediately relieved when your father let out a big “Wow!”

“These pictures. They’re- they’re great! Especially, this one,” showcasing Peter’s perfect shot. “I’m going to send this picture to all the newspapers in New York. Is that okay with you?” Peter nodded in shock. Of course it was okay! “Great!” your father gave Peter his camera back. “Awesome work, Peter. You’re a great new asset to the team.”

You turned to your father and gloated, “I told you he would be!”

The next night, you and Peter sat across from each other at a huge dining table at a restaurant for a fundraising gala. Luckily, your dad placed you two in the back of the room where nobody could see you, because while Phillips was giving the speech of a lifetime, Peter’s mouth was wide open waiting for you to throw an olive in it.

“Scoot closer!” you whispered. Peter, with his mouth still wide open, leaned toward the table and shot back when you perfectly tossed the olive into his mouth.

“Nice shot!” he laughed while chewing. Peter picked up a pea and before you could react, he threw the tiny vegetable and let it hit you right on the nose.

“Dude, give me a warning next time!” you quickly used your pointer finger to wipe off the pea juice that was left on your nose. Peter’s endless chuckling made you giggle, but the fun soon came to an end when your father glared at you from across the room. Both of you pursed your lips and had no choice but to sit there and listen to Phillips like respectful adults.

“We cannot let my opponent, Charles Bridgeham, win this election again. Bridgeham is a son of one of the wealthiest families in New York and his current term as Senator is polluted with bias and pork to please his family’s business partners. Bridgeham is not even an experienced politician. Just another rich kid buying his way to power.”

All of a sudden, you felt something hit your leg. You look up at Peter and his eyes are glued on Phillips, but he had a giant smirk on his face. Is this boy playing footsie with me? You playfully rolled your eyes and began to gently kick his feet back. What are we? Middle schoolers?

At the end of the gala, your father walked up to Peter and gently put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, Pete. Can you do me a favor and walk [Y/N] home tonight? I’m going back to the office to debrief with the team.” Peter gladly agreed and you two began to walk towards your apartment.

At first, the walk home was full of silence and awkward tension. The only thing Peter could hear was his heart beating and your teeth chattering from the bitter cold of the night. He quickly took off his sports coat and held it out for you to take.

“Oh no, no, no,” you said while rubbing your arms up and down, attempting to warm yourself. “I’m totally fine!” Peter was able to see through your lies and wrapped his coat around your shoulders himself. You looked up at him and gave him a soft smile. God. You were so nervous right now. You have never really been alone with him before, and he just gave you his jacket?! That’s a classic flirting tactic.

“Sooo,” you sang, “How is the Stark internship going?” From the look on his face, you could tell it was not going well. It looked like he had hurt in his eyes.

“Uh, well. I’m actually on break right now. Mr. Stark won’t let me do anything until I apply to colleges. He says that I should have a plan for the future, but all I want to do is work for him! College can wait, right?” You nodded and again, gently grabbed his hand in an attempt to comfort him. You knew how much that internship meant to him, and being on break probably killed him. You began to let go of his hand, but Peter kept holding on.

“What do you even do for Stark anyways? Do you help with the technology? Are you the receptionist?” you joked. Peter let out a small laugh and shrugged his shoulders. “Ya, kinda. Something like that.” And before you could ask anymore questions, Peter stopped walking and turned to face you. He loved the sight that was right in front of him: the most beautiful girl, wearing the most beautiful dress, and his own coat draped over you. Make a move, Parker!

“Sooo,” he sang, just like you did earlier. “When are we going on our next date?”

“Our next date?” you laughed, “When did we even have our first one?” Peter let out a playful gasp and started walking again, your hand still intertwined with his.

“Our first date was on Friday!”

“At the Ronald McDonald House? What!?”

“Come on! That was such a date. You held my hand… for like two seconds and I met your father! Sounds like classic date stuff to me.”

You let out a low giggle and playfully smacked his arm. “And then our second date was tonight!” he added. “A fancy dinner and I’m even walking you home! Might I add, we are even holding hands for longer than two seconds!”

You dramatically rolled your eyes and slipped your hand out of Peter’s. “A fancy dinner with hundreds of other people.”

“I didn’t notice anyone but you there.”

This made your whole entire body heat up to 100 degrees. There was no way you could look at Peter in the eyes right now; he would for sure notice your extreme change of color. Peter, on the other hand, couldn’t even believe he just said those words. Where did all this courage come from? He thought to himself. He loved it.

“We’ve been on two dates already, and you’re not even calling me your girlfriend yet? How slow do you want to take things, Parker?” Finally, with your body cooling down, you looked at Peter and gave him a smirk. You slipped your hand back into his and didn’t even care that his palm was the sweatiest thing you’ve ever touched.

“G-girlfriend?” he stuttered, “Can I call you my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip and put on your best thinking face. “I’ll let you know after the third date.”

And it was now time for the third date. You stood in front of Peter’s apartment door, raising a shaky hand to knock on the door. Why am I so nervous? The past week at school you and Peter were inseparable. After every class, Peter would walk with you to the next, even if his classroom was on the opposite side of the school. During lunch, you sat with Peter and his best friend, Ned, and you three would have conversations that left your sides hurting for hours. However, Betty soon got very jealous of all the attention Peter was getting, so one day, you brought Betty to sit with you and the boys. Right when Betty introduced herself and sat down, you could see the pure love in Ned’s eyes. You knew from then on, Betty wouldn’t be that jealous, because she would soon have her hands full with a boy of her own.

“Hey there! You must be [Y/N]. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m May, Peter’s aunt! Come inside, come inside.”  You stepped into Peter’s apartment and looked around. It was just how you pictured it: small, tidy, colorful. You turned to Aunt May and gave her a huge smile.

“Nice to meet you too! I love your outfit,” you said while admiring May’s style. High waisted business pants, loafers, and a blouse? The definition of a powerful woman right there. May flashed you a smile and did a dramatic model spin.

“Why, Peter! I love her already.” You laughed and followed May to the kitchen where Peter was hiding. “Just to let you know,” May whispered to you, “Peter has been in this kitchen for hours trying to make you homemade pasta. The fire alarm went off twice, so don’t expect much.” Once again, you laughed and felt your entire body melt because of Peter’s cute gesture. He made dinner for me! You squealed in your brain and walked up to Peter who was slaving over the stove, mixing a pot of spaghetti. You took both of your hands and started frizzing up his hair.

‘Hey, Pete! How’s the dinner going?”

Peter started to laugh and tried to shake your hands off his head. “Hey, [Y/N/N]. Dinner is such a failure. I think I burned this spaghetti. I didn’t even know burning spaghetti was possible!” You returned his laughter and picked up a burnt noodle and slurped it into your mouth. It was crunchy and disgusting, but not too disgusting.

“This isn’t bad at all! I think it’s delicious!”

You, Peter, and May sat at the kitchen table eating the crunchy and revolting noodles. You three talked about politics, May’s exhausting day at work, favorite books and tv-shows, fun facts, and school. However, the entertaining dinner conversation soon turned into a full-on “Roast Peter” session. You were howling with laughter as May told you all of Peter’s embarrassing childhood stories and secrets. In return, you told May funny stories about Peter falling asleep in Chemistry and talking in his sleep and him tripping over his own feet while walking in the hallways.

“Geez!” Peter exclaimed, “Have some mercy on me!” In unison, you and May shook your heads and let out a big, fat “Nope!”

Once dinner was finished, Peter took you to the living room and gave you the task of renting your favorite movie for the two of you to watch. As you looked through his movie selection, you realized that you didn’t have to rent your favorite movie, he already owned it! You made Peter close his eyes and guess what movie you picked. You pressed play on Back To The Future and the beginning music started playing. Peter’s eyes popped out of his head. He recognized that music anywhere.

“No way!” he screamed, “This is your favorite movie? This is one of my favorite movies too!” You giggled and plopped down next to him on his big, red couch that had a Spider-man drawing above it.

“My favorite movie of all time! I can quote every single line.”

As the two of you watched the movie, Peter was falling more and more for you. Like you said, you could quote every single line of the movie perfectly. While you sat on the couch together, you and Peter put on a two-man show, taking turns reciting lines. Right in the middle of the movie, Aunt May tiptoed towards the living room and poked her head in to see how the date was going. She made eye contact with Peter and raised her arm, giving Peter the hint to wrap his arm around you. Peter did just what his Aunt told him, and you gladly sunk into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. Aunt May grinned and gave Peter a thumbs up, but Peter just shooed her away.  

“This is my favorite scene!” you squealed. You jumped up from Peter’s side and leaned closer to the television. Marty McFly was playing the guitar and singing “Johnny B. Goode” at the high-school dance. You began to bop your head to the music and you couldn’t help but to get up from the couch and dance around to the music. Peter looked at you with love-struck eyes.

“What are you doing?” he laughed. But before he could ask anymore questions, you grabbed his hand, stood him up, and spun him around like a ballerina. He had no choice but to attempt to dance around with you. You giggled at his awkward hip and feet movements, but Peter didn’t care. He was having fun! You two observed the couples on the screen and tried to recreate their dancing, but it was too hard, so Peter just spun you around. Both of you couldn’t stop smiling and giggling at each other’s awful dancing. You began to feel very dizzy, so you spun one last time and landed yourself in Peter’s arms. You both stared at each other with deep concentration and longing.

“[Y/N!],” May shouted. You jumped out of Peter’s arms and he quickly walked to the other side of the room, making a large distance between the two of you. “You left your phone in the kitchen, and it’s buzzing like crazy.” You thanked May and took the phone from her, scrolling through your notifications, you saw that you had 20 messages from your parents.

“Hey, Peter. I have to start heading home. My parents want me back as soon as possible. They said they have to tell me something important?” You quickly put your shoes back on and headed for the door. Peter was following behind you, ready to walk you home.

“Thank you for having me, May!” Peter shut the door behind you and started the trek back to your apartment. As you walked through the streets of Queens together, there was a comfortable silence. Your hand in his. Both of you randomly squeezing the other’s, like it was a secret language. In some time, you arrived at the door of your apartment building.

“I had a great ti-”

“Me too!” you quickly spat out. You bit your lip when you realized you were being way too eager. Peter ran his fingers through his hair and laughed. He didn’t mind.

“S-so, it’s the end of our third date,” he stated, “How did I do? Can I- can I call you my girlfriend now?”

You gave him a nervous smile and scrunched up your nose. Holy shit. Of course he can. But all you did was lean up against the building’s brick wall and nod slowly. Peter couldn’t tell, but your whole body was trembling. You were scared out of your mind. You have never met a boy as amazing as Peter, and you were terrified you were going to mess it up somehow. You two stared at each other for what seemed like hours. Both of you were hypnotized by each other’s presence.

All of a sudden, Peter moved his head closer to yours, which was resting on the brick wall. You stood there frozen, from both fear and excitement. What if he thinks I’m a terrible kisser? You worried. But, you had nothing to lose, so you leaned in, making your forehead rest against his. Both of you closed your eyes. Both of you grabbed each other’s hands and intertwined your fingers once more. Peter gently rubbed his nose against yours and brushed his lips against yours, sending shock waves up your spine. As if the whole world was in slow motion, Peter finally pressed his warm lips against yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you as Peter deepened the kiss, making your whole head spin. You were about to pull yourself even closer to him, but you two were interrupted by a loud and high-pitched ringing noise.

Both of you jumped away from each other and Peter began to dig through his coat pockets. He pulled out his cell-phone, the one guilty of the awful noise, and answered a call.

“Happy?” Peter whispered into his phone. “What’s wrong?”

You stood there frozen against the brick wall. You could still feel Peter’s lips on yours.

“No, no. I’ll head over there right now. Okay, okay. Bye.” Peter quickly hung up the phone and grabbed both of your hands. “I’m so sorry, but I have to go do something for Tony Stark! They took me off break,” he exclaimed.

You looked down at your watch and gave him a curious look. “It’s almost eleven o’clock at night. What does he need?” Peter couldn’t think of anything good to say, so he bit his lip and sighed, “Spreadsheets?”

You cocked your head in confusion and Peter could see the disappointment in your eyes. Yes, he wanted to stay here and keep kissing you, but Tony needed him. “I’m so sorry! I’ll make this up to you. We should, uh, do that again!” he yelped while backing up towards the street, getting ready to run. You gave him a soft smile and waved goodbye.

You turned to the building door and starting digging through your small purse to find the key. What the hell just happened? You shoved the key into the hole and before you could open it, someone spun your whole body around. It was Peter. He came back. He grabbed your face with his hands and before you knew it, you two were kissing again with great passion. Your hands in his hair, his hands traveling down to your back and pulling you closer. He began to slowly slip in his tongue, gently caressing yours with his. You stood on your tiptoes, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to make it easier for you two kiss, but you were soon relieved when Peter pushed you up against the building door and leaned down more towards you. As Peter pulled away, your hands slowly released his hair you were pulling. Both of you were out of breath. While panting, Peter tried to comb his hair down with his fingers and he began to back up again.

“Goodbye!” he shouted while jogging away into the night, “For real this time!” He left you with a wink.

Once he was out of sight, you opened the apartment building door, slammed it shut and let out one big squeal. “EEEEEEEEEPPP!” you danced around the hallway before running upstairs to your apartment door excitedly. When you opened the door to your home, you saw that all the lights were off. Your excitement was soon replaced with fear. Something wasn’t right.

“Mom? Dad?” you called out.

You inched deeper into the living room and the television screen was the only thing illuminating the pitch-black environment. You stood behind your parents, who were sitting on the couch in silence, watching the news.  Your eyes widened in shock when you read the news ticker that was dancing across the screen:

NY Senatorial candidate, Brenton Phillips, just found shot in his home.

I think im the most boring person in the world until I remember the shit that always seems to end up happening to me. like its ridiculous the situations I find myself in out of no where... like ive mentioned before how on that east coast field trip these other dudes heard we were from Vegas and asked if it was like the suite life... it sounds absurd until you realize them Boyz were from the middle of no where

THERE’S A NAME FOR WHAT I DO?!!