𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤

Spider On The Ceiling

Parings → Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings → fluff, teasing, Tony Stark?

Summary → Sneaking in your room and then getting caught by Tony.

          ｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆  ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

It was a quiet night at the Stark Tower, or as quiet as it could be with Tony Stark tinkering in his lab and the hum of technology buzzing faintly in the background. You were lounging in your bed, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, waiting. It was a routine by now, Peter would show up, always after patrol, always around this time. And you loved it.

The clock read 11:03 PM when you heard the faint tap on your window. Right on time. Smiling, you hopped off your bed and opened the window. There he was—Peter Parker, Spider-Man, the love of your life. His mask was already off, and his curls were a mess from his mask.

"Evening, my lady," Peter greeted with a cheeky grin, though you could see the exhaustion into his features. He climbed in gracefully, only to immediately start peeling off his suit. "Ugh, rough night," he muttered, tossing the suit into the corner and flopping onto your bed in just his boxers.

"You look like you fought a whole gang tonight," you said, settling down beside him.

Peter groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. "Don’t even ask. First, there was this mugging, then a car chase, and just as I was heading back, some guy decided it was the perfect time to try to rob a bodega. Do these people not sleep?"

You giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "My hero," you teased. "But really, you should rest. You’re running yourself ragged."

"I know, I know," Peter sighed, turning to face you. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I just feel like I need to do more, you know? There’s always someone who needs help."

"And who’s helping you, Peter?" You asked softly, your hand finding his. "You need to let yourself breathe too."

His lips quirked into a small smile, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. "That’s why I come here," he murmured. "You’re my breathing space."

You smiled against his lips and kissed him again, both of you sinking into the comfort of each other. You laid there, whispering about his patrol, your day, and silly little things, the kind of quiet intimacy that felt like home.

That was until Peter suddenly froze. His body tensed, and his eyes darted toward the door.

"What is it?" You whispered, sitting up.

"Someone’s coming," Peter whispered back, his voice low and urgent. In an instant, he was off the bed and jumped up to the ceiling, sticking there like some oversized spider.

Your door creaked open, and in stepped your dad, Tony Stark, looking mildly suspicious.

"Hey, honey," he greeted, crossing his arms. "So, quick question—any idea where Parker is? He was supposed to meet me in the lab an hour ago."

You blinked, feigning nonchalance. "Why would I know? I haven’t seen him."

Tony squinted at you, his gaze sharp. "Something tells me you do know. You’re terrible at lying, by the way."

"Dad, I’m tired, and I want to sleep. Can we do this tomorrow?" You tried to sound as bored as possible, but your heart was racing.

Tony narrowed his eyes, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, really? So if I ask FRIDAY where Peter is, she won’t tell me he’s here?"

"Why would she say that?" You shot back, trying to sound annoyed. "He’s probably—"

"FRIDAY," Tony interrupted, "where’s Parker?"

"FRIDAY, don’t you dare—" you started, but the AI cut you off.

"Mr. Parker is currently on the ceiling in Ms. Stark’s room," FRIDAY responded smoothly.

"Shit," Peter hissed from above you.

Tony’s gaze slowly lifted to the ceiling. There was Peter, clinging to the ceiling, wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hi, Mr. Stark," Peter said weakly, offering a nervous wave.

Tony’s eyes narrowed. "Hi, Underoos. Care to explain why you’re naked on my daughter’s ceiling?"

Peter’s face flushed bright red. "I-I’m not naked! I’m wearing boxers!" He blurted out defensively.

"Oh, well, that makes it so much better," Tony deadpanned.

Peter shifted nervously, his palms, damp with sweat, lost their grip all of a sudden. He yelped as he fell, landing on your bed with a loud thud.

You winced. "Smooth," you muttered.

Peter scrambled to sit up, looking anywhere but at Tony. "I can explain," he started.

"Oh, this should be good," Tony said, stepping further into the room. "Let’s hear it, Parker. Why are you in my daughter’s room, half-naked, and apparently skipping out on your responsibilities with me?"

"I—I was just..." Peter stammered, glancing at you for help.

"He was tired," you cut in, crossing your arms. "He needed a break after a long night of saving the city. Is that a crime?"

Tony raised a brow. "No, but sneaking into my daughter’s room without telling me? Definitely on thin ice."

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I wasn’t trying to disrespect you or anything. I just... I really needed to see her tonight."

Tony stared at Peter for a long moment, then at you. "You know, Parker," he finally said, "I like you. But you’ve got guts pulling a stunt like this under my roof."

Peter swallowed. "Y-Yes, sir. It won’t happen again."

Tony smirked. "Oh, I know it will. I’m not stupid. But next time, keep your clothes on. And maybe give me a heads-up before FRIDAY rats you out."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you and Peter sitting in stunned silence.

Peter turned to you, eyes wide. "That could’ve gone worse, right?"

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning over to kiss him again. "You’re lucky my dad likes you, Parker."

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗