summary: fifty bucks to kiss the new guy, what can go wrong?
pairing: peter parker x fem!stark!reader
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"You want to do what!" You looked at Sam and Pietro
"Fifty bucks to kiss the recruit." Sam repeated smirking.
"What if he's old, I'm in high school remember." You reminded the three.
"Don't worry, he's in high school." Pietro confirmed. "We wouldn't give you the dare if he was older."
You eyed the two of them, it was no secret that you practically did anything anyone asked you which prompted everyone on the team excluding your dad to do something stupid, which you followed through.
"I want $25 now." You stuck out your hand.
"Aren't you worth over 12 billion dollars?" Pietro furrowed his brows.
"My dad is." You shrugged. "I have less than $100 in my bank account."
Sam pulled out his wallet handing you the $25. You smirked, pocketing the money in your back pocket before starting to walk out of the room.
"Call me when they get here!" You yelled over your shoulder.
You heard the alert calling for the team to meet in the conference room. You sauntered taking your designated spot next to Wanda, across from Natasha.
You leaned on your hand, listening to your father go over to protocols, something he did whenever someone new joined the team. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam and Pietro smirking knowing your newest teammate will be here today.
You three laid on the couch, scrolling through Netflix, trying to agree on what to watch.
"Ahem!" You turned to see your dad and a man in a mask next to him. You recognized him as Spiderman, someone your dad had been talking about recently. "Everyone, this Spiderman, the newest Avenger."
You droned out your dad's voice staring at man feeling some sense of familiarity towards him. It wasn't until Pietro slapped your shoulder, you remembered the bet.
Springing out of your seat, you walked towards Spiderman, lifting up the bottom of his mask. You wasted no time kissing him, letting your hands rest under his jaw.
"Welcome to the team." You whispered before pulling off the rest of his mask.
The boy was no older than you were, his hair was stuck in every direction, his lips swollen and his cheeks red.
"W-What-" He stammered looking at your eyes. "You're Y/n Stark."
"I am, and you are?" You traced your fingers on the spider emblem on his chest.
"P-Peter Parker." He stuttered.
"Well then I'll see you around Peter Parker." You kissed his cheek.
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Light Pollution - Peter Parker
Spider-Man is always saving people, making sure people feel safe. But who makes sure Spider-Man feels safe?
Peter Parker was as stiff as a board.
His every muscle was tensed, flexed into stillness. Not even the rumble of the bus wheels against the road could shake him from his solid stance. Though, in his head, he cursed every pothole that threatened to jostle the peace he held still. In short, Peter was, to a silly degree, dedicated to not disturbing you or your slumber against his shoulder.
Your cheek was pressed to his arm, spreading a warmth that dulled the ache of a late-night ride home. If he let himself, Peter would lean in too, rest his head on top of yours and sleep away the end of the field trip. It would be so easy. It would be so warm and soft, and yet Peter was immovable. While his reluctance to shift in his spot was rooted in a fear of waking you, it was also rooted in the fear of and nervousness of a teenage boy in love.
“Hey P-wow, Y/N is zonked, huh?” Said nervous teenage boy flicked his eyes from you to Ned. His friend’s head popped up from behind the back of the seat situated in front of Peter.
“Y-Yeah,” Peter replied, “I don’t...I can’t move.”
“I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind if you scoot over.”
“No, it’s not that I-” as Peter began to explain, you shifted against him. Your face then sat closer into the crook of his neck. The new proximity immediately brought Peter’s focus to you. His breathing faltered and face pinked.
Ned let out a hushed, breathy chuckle and said, with far too much, sudden knowing, “good luck, man.”
Peter bit back a groan of alarm as his friend turned around, leaving the two of you terribly, wonderfully alone in your row of seating. As if, even sleeping, you could sense his distress, you pressed yourself closer to his side. Peter blamed the movement on whatever dream danced behind the dark of your eyelids. Blamed wasn’t entirely the right word for it though, Peter thanked the dream that danced behind the dark of your eyelids as whatever it was lulled you to him. He could be grateful despite the nerves.
It was easy to be grateful, especially when it came to you. With you so close, Peter could readily admire the curves of your cheeks, the gentle fanning-out of your lashes, and the creaseless rest of your brow, relaxed in sleep. How rare it was to see you so at peace, with the stresses of the day invisible in your features. How rare it was to see you so close up!
At the thought, Peter was reminded of how your body fit against his and his nerves. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze, throwing his attention out the window. Peter tried to drown himself in the scattered lights that speckled the dark like large fireflies. Desperate to ignore the warmth of you, he even craned his neck up towards the sky. He saw the faintest of stars shining in the navy night. More stars than he would see in the city, anyway.
Light pollution stole the sight of constellations in Queens and while the class was by no means driving through the country, Peter found himself romanticizing the more open stretches of land. It was easy to do with the stars in the sky and you on his shoulder. And just like that, you consumed his thoughts again. Not even the window, the world outside, could grant him an escape from you. Escape was too cruel of a word.
Peter never wanted to escape you. You were the first person he ran to when things became too much. When he was beaten down, physically or emotionally, you somehow always managed to lift his spirits. Your smile eased any ache and did so faster than even his advanced healing.
But you also made things difficult. Like when you fell asleep on the way back home from a field trip, your head on Peter’s shoulder, looking as soft as ever. Or like when everything around him, from the stars shining through the window to the idle brushings of knees, reminded him of you. Peter saw you in everything, felt you too, partly due to his heightened senses. To him, you burned as brightly as any star, unhindered by any pollution, any darkness that swallowed everything, everyone, else up.
You burned even as you slept, shimmering under the streetlights as the bus passed and warming Peter through the chill of the AC.
So, when the bus drove over a large pothole and your eyes fluttered open, your closeness was overwhelming. Sleepily, your shifted, barely lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder to glance around. Peter’s eyes widened at the sight and he flicked his gaze quickly away from your face.
“Are we back?” Your voice was low, heavy with disuse.
“Uh, uh no. Not yet. Bumpy road, though,” Peter mumbled, tripping over his words. He looked at you with quick, panicked glances and saw you frown.
“Yeah,” you grumbled as you met his eyes. “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”
“Oh, no,” Peter shook his head, “it’s fine. It’s cool.” He swallowed hard before adding, nervously, “You can...you can go back to sleep, if you want.”
“I’m not hurting your shoulder?” Peter smiled at your concern, at how you were worried about him despite your half-open eyes and sleepy swaying.
“No, you’re not,” you could never hurt me.
“Okay,” you murmured, leaning your head back on Peter’s shoulder. “Wake me when we get back?”
“Of course, yeah,” Peter replied, his body untensing the second you rested back against him. While he kept his body taught, to ensure he wouldn’t wake you like the petulant pothole had, he let himself relax. He felt that he could, knowing that you wanted to be there, so close to him. Knowing that you knew he wanted you there, so close to him.
Peter even let himself fall back too, let his head rest on top of yours. Your warmth kissed his cheek and numbed any lingering nervousness. The thought of whatever worries waited for him in the city and the star-drowning skyscrapers were pushed away by your shine. In your light, Peter Parker felt safe enough to close his eyes.
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