PETER PARKER IMAGINES

► menace [ x reader ]

description:
You're J. Jonah Jameson's daughter and was sent on a coffee run for him and his office. You receive help from a freelance photographer.

           Balancing a drinks tray and a big Starbucks bag of bagels and croissants was unbelievably hard for a fifteen year old girl, but that didn't stop you from carrying out the task. Your father's nagging voice in the back of your head only pushed you further. You rolled your eyes as you heard him, The staff and I need our caffeine, Honey. How else are we going to concentrate on the menace?

It was cool having your dad as the publisher of The Daily Bugle at first, but as soon as that Spider-guy swung his way into the city, it'd been anything but. You recalled the times when your dad would actually tell you real news. Dinner time went from being updated about the city to hearing endless stories about Spiderman.

And it's not even like he told you good things about the hero, either. You only heard bad things, like how he was singlehandedly ruining the safety of your city. That's what your dad said, anyway.

You approached the building and tried to switch the tray to your other hand so that you could open the heavy glass door, but you began to lose balance. The drinks tray slipped out of your grasp and you prepared for the worst, but it never came.

You were staring at the ground, awaiting the splash of drinks, but instead was met with the sight of beat up Nike shoes. Your eyes travelled up and met with a pair of warm brown eyes.

"Do you need any help?" The boy asked politely, holding the tray in his hand easily.

Your mouth opened and closed in shock.

He looked at you, waiting for your answer.

Say something, You thought to yourself angrily.

"You're so cute." You said quickly, immediately regretting it. It was true, though. He looked like he was your age, maybe a little older, and he had brown hair that was a little darker than his eyes. He had an athletic build and a camera around his neck. He probably worked for your dad. "I mean, wow, nice reflexes."

As soon as he began smiling that dorky smile of his, you stopped regretting your words, because god damn if that wasn't one of the most beautiful sights you'd ever seen... You didn't know what was.

"Thanks," He said sheepishly. "So, help?"

You nodded. What was there to lose?

"Okay, I'd be glad to." He pulled open the heavy glass door, a rush of cold AC hitting you in the face. "I'll follow you."

"Yeah, okay." You said, feeling a bit embarrassed by your almost-fail. He didn't seem to notice, though. "Thanks, I really appreciate this."

You led him through the lobby and to the elevators.

"It's no problem," He replied. "I'm just glad I got to you in time before all of these things spilled." He gestured to the drink tray.

"Yeah, I'm pretty lucky." You pressed the 'up' button and then looked back at him.

He was definitely trying to check you out, but he failed miserably.

He tried to come up with an excuse, much to your amusement, but the cheerful ding of the elevator cut him off.

Thank you, He thought to himself. He really had no idea how he was going to explain the looking to you.