Chapter Text
Chapter 1
CURTAIN DRAWN
Main Cast:
Peter Parker
Gwen Stacy
Felicia Hardy
Kate Bishop
Norman Osborn stalked a dimly lit hallway, leading down to the most secured and recently refitted lab he managed to persuade the board about, regarding Curtis Connors’s ambition of pioneering Stem-cells regeneration.
He walked through 4 separate airlocks and sanitizers to ensure the environment that would best benefit what seems to be the future of Oscorp and humanity; at least that’s what he’d deliberately pitched to the shareholders.
The number of resources and analytic data flooding in from various facilities all across Manhattan had shoehorned the previously stunted project to a new frontier of discussing the application to human volunteers.
The ethics committee is persisting on being a stopper from advancement like usual, but Norman had never encountered anyone who would scoff at some amount of…persuasive investment.
He decided to keep certain aspects from Curtis Connors, out of precaution against the geneticist’s moral code that might compromise things unnecessarily; just like Otto Octavius did years ago with project CHMRA. He won’t have that again for this promising venture to evolve humanity beyond the limit set by nature; simply refused to comply as he always does with every obstacle.
For now, Curtis Connors needs only to be aware that he had outsourced the project as a whole from many uprising and hopeful scientists who show potential. Peter Parker would be included in the list as well if little birds here and there had not informed him about the boy’s inevitable assimilation to Reed Richards’s circus of dreamers. Oscorp and RAC both can’t afford a scandal at this time, simply incomprehensible economically and publicly.
His eyes fall upon a disheveled scientist, hunching over a research terminal and rifling through a pile of hard copy reports on the side desk like a maniac looking for an answer to a rhetorical question asked out in passing.
The man could use a shower or two, judging solely from the odor.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you this passionate since that internment meeting at Harvard years ago, Connors.” Norman greeted him casually, eyes scanning the vast chamber that had been refitted and renovated into a sci-fi movie set of some sort.
“The one where you outright rejected me but I got in because Dr. Octavius insisted upon?” Connors snorted from his position, tone sharper and harsher than it usually did, evidently in shamble and exhaustion but never thought to allow a moment of respite even for oneself.
“Otto always has keen eyes on the future more than me, I am more of a businessman.” Norman declared, looking over some genetic enhancer vials displayed inside reinforced polycarbonate shelves.
“Selling yourself short is some form of strategy? You are some kind of a scientist yourself, albeit too involved in politics and economics.” Connors yapped again, this time brought out a grunt from his boss.
“Oscorp have today because of me. If left to own devices, you scientists would sink it in a sea of debts since the first month.” Norman offered with a cackle, signifying his playful intention “But enough about my necessary evils; how’s the project going these past months? I heard your wife expressed concerns about your health and your absences from your family.” Norman approached the scientist and firmly squeezed the tense shoulder “Take it from an old man who lost a chance with his own, Connors, take a break and be there when you still can.”
“There will be time for that, later.” Connors simply replied with half-assed intention, focusing on the simulation of cellular assimilation and merging on the screen.
“Why not requisite help from that girl? Gwen Stacy? I heard your colleagues and assistants have nothing but praises and jealousies directed towards the young thing.” Norman started, knowing already what type of answer he would get from the stubborn geneticist, yet, he pressed on a bit “Besides, it’s not like this is some kind of secret black site development center you can’t share with your assistant.”
“I’ve redirected my other projects to her for weeks now, Mister Osborn, it’s a miracle she’s still staying after the amount of daily work she has to do.” Curtis Connors clarified.
Norman hums in consideration; a promising young mind is a must in his vision of the future, and one that has some persuasion value to the one he wants like the Parker boy should prove invaluable in itself in the long run.
“Do you recommend we should hire her as a full-timer once her internship is over?” Osborn directed the question at the other man, quirking his brow.
“I won’t object to that; she’s talented and has some ambition of her own,” Curtis said with a shrug of his shoulders, eyes never averted from its honed point.
“I will keep that in mind,” Norman concluded with a hum, looking at the bigger screen above their heads. “Meanwhile; what is this?” his hand gestured towards the simulation of cells merging at a succession rate above 45%.
“Huh?” Curtis looked up from his obsessing mannerism and cast his half-close eyes towards the subject in question “That…is a simulation I ran earlier, combining the genetic enhancer into batch 15C before injection of subject 51,” Connors gestured to the shelves of transparent cages that houses a plethora of animals ranging from mice to reptiles. “I had a notion that, since we’ve never tried it on anything outside of mammals, why not try?” Connors check the graphs and circulations of information while adjusting the formula simultaneously for the next subject.
“Any significant development I should know about?” Norman asked again after studying the subject with his eyes.
“Mostly unnoticeable so far; some alterations in glands and minor changes in physiology. DNA still intact, no sign of degradation or mutation, yet.” Connors gives a brief version, he knows by now Norman’s interest lies in results rather than the how-tos.
“Plain English for our dear toddlers upstairs?” Norman asked with a smirk.
“Let them focus on things that they knew about already for the time being; if this little sidetrack produces anything tangible, I will let you know.” Connors concluded.
Out of their sight, a torn limb starts to rapidly reform itself from the stump.
Instead of something resembling the host’s physiology like hide with scales, it grew out to an appearance of skin and flesh.
“Come in.” Fisk’s deep tone echoed in his spacious office overlooking New York; one of those scenery he wanted to upkeep and shape.
A mob of platinum hair cascaded down both sides of her face, framing the sharp features she got from her estranged mother, according to her father’s words. Felicia is not one to overdress unnecessarily, so her go-to outfit often consists of long and form-fitting pants, a blouse, and a pair of sunglasses.
“Mister Fisk.” She greeted her employer with formal courtesy, making her way towards the side where a dark lamb skin couch was located with an envelope.
“Punctual as ever, Felicia,” Fisk replied in kind, finishing with whatever he was doing a moment prior and then making his way towards her.
“I have somewhere to be, thought I’d settle this with you as fast as I can.” Felicia offered with a soft chuckle, casually pulling out a cigarette out of her purse, and lit it to enjoy the bitter taste. If the smoke is bothering him, he does not show it.
“I’d thought you quit smoking altogether.” Fisk sits across from her, opening the envelope for her.
“For a while, but you know how it is.” Felicia shrugged with a carefree attitude, but Fisk seemed to catch a slip in her indifference.
“The alley again?” the question seemed to irritate her a bit, judging from the way her jaw tensed and the poor cigarette simply bent in the middle under her deft fingers.
No verbal confirmation was provided, only a small nod and a tight hum.
“My offers still stand, Felicia, I need you sharp and well. A session cost nothing but time and a surrender to weakness.” Fisk continued without looking at the stray cat he picked up from that alley years prior.
“I have nine lives left to spare, Mister Fisk, but thank you, nonetheless.” Felicia countered with a façade she played well over the years, just not against someone like Wilson Fisk.
“Walter would have insisted further, but alas, I’m not your father,” Fisk concluded with a sigh, Felicia only nodded along in agreement. Then the content of the envelope got spread over the glass table between them. “There’s another job coming in. Same clientele. New locations. New objectives.” Wilson Fisk starts by gesturing to some of the pictures.
“Elaborate?” Felicia inquired in her serious tone as she inspected each photograph with keen eyes.
“Chemicals. Labs 2 and 6 require some, and these are the locations our sources scouted ahead.”
“Looks simple enough,” Felicia concluded after a while, contemplating the layouts and given information provided by Fisk’s henchmen.
“Will you be needing teammates?” Fisk looked at her, but Felicia objected to the idea with a shake of her head.
“It will be quicker if I play solo. There’s no need for muscles, only transportation.” Felicia points to several areas within a layout schematic of the building.
“What about the…little pest?” Fisk gritted out with a frustrated huff, remembering the persistent efforts of Spider-Man in jeopardizing his empire since teaming with Daredevil.
“I will handle him if he happens to miraculously run into me out of nowhere,” Felicia said casually, no worries on her face as she recalled the person she had never met again after that little dance they had.
“Don’t underestimate the little shit, Felicia, I know firsthand what he is capable of,” Fisk warned her.
“His conviction about the nature of things and humans gives me an advantage. He won’t survive a day in our world, but that’s why I will be fine.”
“Good, at least I won’t have to apologize to Walter’s grave,” Fisk said with a chuckle.
“Easy there!” Peter yelped out as he was quick to support Missus Holt after she had lost her footing walking down the stairs of her own house.
Sundays are when Peter had to take his second part-time job as an elderly caretaker, the pay is lacking but he enjoys spending time helping in any way he can.
“Oh! You are fast, Peter.” The old woman thanked him with a pat on his shoulder, letting him lead her down the remaining steps until they were in the living area, where Peter had already set out a lunch and some pleasure readings for her.
“Come on, Heather, I can’t possibly hope to compete with Miss Champion here!” he gestured towards an old picture of Heather Holt herself with a medal in hand.
“Oh, you!” the old woman chuckles along with his, sitting down at her usual spot and taking in the meal in front of her with a curious glint in her cloudy eyes. She looked over in Peter’s direction “You learned how to cook?”
Peter scratches the back of his head with a sheepish grin, a look of pride and something tender evident on his face.
“Practicing, more like.” He admitted.
“At least it should be better than that dumpling you got me.” She teased him a bit and took a bite, humming lightly from the taste and textures she got. “An improvement, for sure.” She concluded with a smile and ruffled his curly brown hair a bit.
“Thanks! Gwen insisted on me doing dinners now anyways, might as well get good at it, you know?” Peter cheered with a heartfelt grin and twinkles in his eyes at the mention of the name.
“That cute little blonde?” Heather asks as she softly tosses the remote at him, trusting their entertainment in his hands; she knows now that Peter has vintage taste, and she appreciates such conversations they have on Sundays about old music and movies from her younger years. “She seems sweet, you better wife her up, young man,” Heather said and enjoyed the jolt of her caretaker’s body at the suggestion and let out a cackle.
“Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat??!!??”
“Relax, Peter.” Heather said between cackles, shielding her mouth from spilling any bits of lunch “I know things are different from my time, but you better not play her or anything, I will hit you!” she mockingly held up her fists in a boxing stance, which Peter surrendered to it immediately.
“Scout’s honor!” he exclaims.
Both enjoy the quiet afternoon with Braveheart and some small conversation regarding Edgar Allen Poe’s works.
“You sure you don’t want me to wait around for Helen with you?” Peter asks as he’s washing the dishes, conversing with his charge for today who’s doing some mild yoga in another room.
“It’s fine, honey, my niece has her copy of the key. Make sure you lock it well before you go?”
“See ya next Sunday, missus Holt! If you need any help, just call me, okay?” he yelled from the front door and turned the knob once he heard her acknowledge it. Locking the door, Peter spins on his heels to make his way toward his destination.
Gwen often visits and stays with her parents on Friday nights until Sunday, and he takes it upon himself to kind of retrieving her on such occasions, getting some free food along the way is a bonus in itself, as Helen Stacy seems to enjoy her food being eaten, who’s he to deny the lovely mother of his girlfriend?
He knew about the time she and his now-best-bud Howard had to fend for themselves after the Snap and understood the need to be with her parents from time to time. He would, if he can as well.
“Oh, quit whining!” a familiar voice reaches his ears from the pizzeria up ahead; a ponytailed brunette is chiding a golden retriever as they are making their way out of the shop with two boxes of what seems to smell like double pepperonis. “Today is my order, Lucky.” Kate Bishop jabs her finger on Lucky’s forehead with a chuckle.
As Kate was about to walk into him Peter side-stepped a little and managed to stabilize the boxes of pizza, hearing a yelp of surprise from Kate and a friendly bark from the Pizza Dog.
“You are still clumsy with or without a phone in your hand, I see.” she whipped up at his voice, beaming immediately when his face came into focus.
“Pete!” Kate exclaims with a chuckle, quickly hugging his neck as he moves the pizza outwards to prevent them from being crushed. “It’s so good to run into you here!” Kate still holding him with her arms, eyes smiling as she took in his trademark nervous face.
“It’s better me than a pole.” He offered with a chuckle, noticing the proximity they were in, he cleared his throat a little. “Good to see you, Kate.” He pats the small of her back a couple of times and starts to detach himself from her grasp.
Kate seems to notice his attempt and shoots a sheepish grin his way before releasing his neck from her hold.
“Sorry, just…old habits, huh?”
Kate stammered a little as Lucky nudged into her legs like a teasing friend, she nudged the retriever back in kind, albeit discreetly.
“Don’t worry about it.” Peter dismissed with a smile, offering the stack of pizzas to her after a heartbeat “You stay at the Compound?” she took it from him, balancing them expertly.
“Yeah, pretty much my shift. Tennessee had some projects at MIT, so he kinda asked me to cover for him as well.” Kate shrugged with a lopsided grin “Figured I should bring Lucky along; pizza bills and all.” At the mention of the delicious goodness, the retriever barks happily at both of them.
“You sure Mister Barton won’t miss his service dog?” Peter jabs with a smirk, walking alongside them as Kate’s destination seems to align in the same part as his.
“I’m so telling Clint you said that!” Kate chuckled.
The interaction stirs some memories of them in the past; Kate often offered Harley and himself to her favorite pizza places all across New York, and being as broke as he was back then (still is, to some extent) he took almost all of her offers up without hesitation.
First lead to second, and third, then sixth, until Kate frequents some of Spider-Man’s favorite shops with him in tow, and something more developed between them just months before he decided to quit.
Kate took that better than Harley she knew there was more to it underneath the apparent selfishness he might seem to harbored at the time; wanted to run away from reminders of things lost, but mostly from the restrictions accompanied by the Initiative program that would prevent him from helping where he won’t be allowed to, not without a heated argument with Maria Hill afterward and so many reprimands he would receive from Nick Fury about national relation and such.
Peter never let them bother him much, he was still out here, helping those in need and putting his neck on the block to be the Spider-Man he once promised his late aunt. Fury and Hill put him in the Initiative because he was an official Avenger and would have made a great mediator for herself and Harley to ease into things. She often spied the two brainiacs messing the lab up with new gadgets and equipment every once in a while.
She knew though, that guilt was one of the big reasons why he left.
It was not that serious, she had told him once after a chance encounter at one of the Tracksuits’ hideouts, that a fling between them was just feelings expressing themselves through closeness and teenage hormones.
Yet, as Clint always pointed out; her deception skills still need a lot of work. They worked well together, in and out of Avengers business, she lamented.
“What were you up to? Before I almost ran you over?.” Kate asked with a brow raised, curiosity playing on her face.
“Oh! I was just getting my girlfriend back from her parent’s place.” Peter answered with a soft smile, a look of adoration displayed clearly on his face at the mention.
“Oh?” Kate suppressed a hiss from making its way out of her throat; feeling a bit embarrassed about her hugging his neck earlier and that kiss on his cheek she did months ago.
“Yep.” He continues, oblivious to the hidden irritation within his former teammate “Maybe we can get some pizza together? I think you’ll like her.” Peter sent a genuine grin her way; Kate contemplated it a bit and sighed when she read no ill intent on his part and nodded.
“Sure. Still got my number?” Kate fished a phone out of her leather jacket but stashed it back when he nodded.
“Yeah. See you around, Kate!” Peter waves as he continues on his way away from her and Lucky, who happens to keep nudging her with that knowing grin.
“What’re you lookin' at?” she hissed at her dog and waited for her ride at the agreed location in front of the pizzeria. Sighing heavily at how, years later, Peter Parker still managed to stir something inside her as easily as he did back then. “This sucks.” She groaned.
Peter reached the front of Stacy’s household with a caramel lollipop in his mouth; a kid named Henry gifted it to him as a thank after he got his puppy down from a tree, and he was a bit surprised that Captain Stacy himself burst open the door with packages in his hands.
He quickly jogs over and helps Gwen’s dad unload the some from his arms.
“Evening, Peter!” George Stacy greeted him with a huff as he’s been struggling with these boxes for a minute or so now. “In the trunk, son.” He gestured with his foot at the opened lid.
“What’s the occasion, Mister Stacy? Some romantic getaway with the missus?” Peter wiggled his brows in jest and lighthearted gesture, earning a cackle from the older man.
“If that was true, son, I would have been elated.” The Captain shakes his head a little, before closing the lid securely “Just some misunderstanding delivery for the precinct; some new security equipment from Oscorp for the new crime-monitoring system they talked about on TV?”
“Oh, that.” Peter nods his head along the words.
“Some PR shit, I’m sure, but NYPD has been selected as a test subject for it.” George elaborated with a sigh, as he looked over the watch on his right wrist “I don’t know if Fred is still on shift tonight, I need to get these settled fast on Mayor’s order.” Heard the conversation up front, Gwen decided to look for her dad and see who is it that he was talking to. A smile plays on her lips as she notices Peter.
“Hey, you.” Gwen approaches him with a skip in her steps, coiling his collar firmly to drag him in for a chaste kiss. “I’m surprised you managed without a detour!” Gwen teased him on his busy schedule with a giggle.
“I can be a great boyfriend, from time to time.” He smirks with a playful glint in his eyes, stealing another light kiss on her cheek.
“Rare occasions, indeed.” Gwen retorted.
“Because most of the time, you like me naughty.” He let out a smug, Gwen only chuckled and pushed his head a little.
“Alright, alright. Kids. Spare this old man a heart attack, will ya?” George snorted out with a grin of his own, pretending to be annoyed by his daughter’s tendency to do PDAs as one of their inside jokes.
“What were you guys talking about?” Gwen changed the subject as she stood beside Peter to face her dad, leaning into him a little at the way his hand rested comfortably on the small of her back.
George gestured at the trunk of his sedan, sighing in defeat at the last-minute extra work on a weekend. “I got to get these set up before midnight, and I was wondering if Fred is still on shift.”
“The surveillance systems from earlier?”
George nods, rubbing his eyelids with exhaustion starting to form.
“Pete can help with that; he’s kind of a nerd.” Gwen jabs playfully at her boyfriend, to which he groans as a reply.
“Really?” her dad asks with some doubt, looking at the two young adults in front of him.
“Sure thing, cap’n,” Peter gave him a genuine grin with a nod of his head “If it’s alright for a civilian to do it, I mean,” Peter concluded with a chuckle.
Peter, Gwen, and George Stacy gathered the boxes into the common area, there were a few numbers of officers and some detectives still working there, but some gave a sympathetic smile at the supposed-to-be-on-weekend Captain. Yuriko Watanabe, ever the workaholic, greeted the trio once before refocusing her attention on a pile of reports on her desk.
“Had she ever taken a break?” Gwen mused as she handed the last package to Peter’s waiting hands, directing the question to her dad with a frown.
“I’m on the verge of ordering her to take some,” her dad sighed in defeat, in concern for one of his trustworthy policemen who he is certain won’t ever waver by Wilson Fisk’s or Maggia’s retirement funds “but you’ve known her as long as I am; there’s no convincing Yuri to take care of herself.” He ended with a shake of his head.
“Then I will have to distract her from work, somehow.” Gwen hums in deep thought.
“You two share one thing.” Peter mused with a grin at her side, feeling numb when she elbowed his stomach at the insinuation.
“Trust me when I say this; don’t get her drunk.” Gwen let out a panic expression, one which Peter snorted over the dramatic flair.
“Alright, Fred said he can be here in 20, meanwhile you can start by the main server in the basement.” George Stacy announced after a brief phone call he had with precinct 19th residence IT staff.
“Should we have someone watching us, in case Peter here decides to go Snowden on you guys?” Gwen asked in a teasing tone while she helped Peter unpack the necessary items for the task at hand, reading the labels and specifications attentively for each.
“I’ll leave him in your hands,” George cackles a bit before signaling for some of the off-duty officers to follow him with the boxes instructed to be installed onto the antenna on the roof, as Fred said. “We are gonna prep things up on the roof, call me if you need something, okay?”
Gwen nods with a smile as Peter shoots a grin, and then she lets her boyfriend down the stairway to the underground server room. Both reach the quite organized workspace of Fred and his team and start laying the unpacked items on the most spacious surface they can find.
“You ever rigged a PC before?” Peter asked Gwen while he reached into a crevice to connect the new addition of equipment to the existing ones, quirking his brows quizzically.
“If by ‘rigged’ you meant have I ever disassembled one? Yep, but we ended up selling it for parts because I can’t get it to work again after that.” Gwen shrugged with an easy grin on her face.
“Remind me to not let you play with Edi again?” Peter jabs with a smirk, to which she responds by throwing a piece of foam that lands squarely on his forehead.
“What do we do next?” Gwen asks after Peter announced that they got all the equipment prepped and installed in their respective location, connected all the ports, and waited for the system to reboot and adjust to the new.
“Would you be mad if I have Edi install a backdoor into the system?” Peter mused with the cutest puppy eyes he had ever managed, Gwen chuckled nervously at the suggestion.
“I don’t know, babe, what if Fred figured it out?” Gwen weighs against his proposal, she knows that there is a possibility even if the hacking will mostly be done by Edith; her new gossiping girlfriend after a couple of months ago when Peter managed to give the AI some restricted form of sentient thought process.
The aspect of a self-aware AI in itself creeps her out; remembering the short span of Ultron’s cyber-terrorism over a decade ago. Peter’s insistence and reassurance about it brought some semblance of relief, but she will keep vigilant for the time being.
“Edi is discreet, even Friday can’t detect her anymore, and Friday was supposed to keep the Compound safe.” He grinned mischievously; it’s come and go, but he got his moment to show a prideful side garnered from his accomplishments. She likes that look on him, though, but sometimes he can be so stubborn.
“I don’t know if I should be thrilled or terrified of that notion, dude,” Gwen said with a confused look on her face.
“Don’t worry about it; I’ll have Kate open an access for me to update some firmware for Friday later.” He announced, puffing up his chest as he leaned in to plant a chaste kiss on her tight lips.
“Kate?” the name caught her attention; another one of first-name among a few.
“Hawkeye? She took a shift at the Compound for the next two months; I want her to be a contact inside if something happens with Manhattan, or with me.” He offered her a sad smile.
“You have a very grim outlook upon the world, man.” Gwen retorted with a reassuring smile of her own, caressing the side of his face. “I guess dying once does change people, huh?” her question was half-teasing; she saw that kind of struggle on her dad and many close friends after the Avengers brought everyone back.
He kissed the palm of her hands with tender smiles, relishing the soft cushion her skin made for his head. He cups her hands with his and leads her to the recently loaded up main monitor of the whole system, now displaying a miniature version of the Oscorp logo in its usual branding location, he scoffs at the clear attempt of PR the corporation put in the guise of philanthropism.
“Gotta love their advertisement,” he snorted with a cackle, Gwen followed with a snicker and hit his shoulder with a firm slap.
“Hey, I still work there, you know?”
“Alright, alright. I will refrain from slandering them, for now.” He winked and focused his attention back on the screen. “Edi, would you mind knocking on the door?” he ordered his assistant as he placed his smartphone on the desk; the new Starkphone he got from saving his paychecks from RAC since the internship started. The new chipsets and hardware allowed Edith to be more versatile than before, and now he doesn’t even need to wire her in anymore as long as there are wireless signals.
“Hello?” Edith chirped as if talking to someone, and then “Oh, no one’s home,” and she played an audio clip of opening door; specifically the one from OG Resident Evil 1.
“Set up a network, prime it for auto connection to the NYPD cloud system, I need my Spider-Surveillance back.” He announced with such a goofy grin that Gwen couldn’t help but chuckle at the habit of bad-naming he seemed to pride himself on.
“What’s next? Spider-Mobile?” Gwen scoffed out, resting her chin on his shoulder and whispering to his ear.
“Don’t give me ideas, woman.” Peter cackles, feeling the tickles from her silky hair brushing his exposed skin.
“I only give good ones, and might even have to take over the naming if you are gonna keep them lame like that.” Gwen nuzzles his neck with a giddy smile; it has been about two nights away spending time with her family, and she misses his unnatural warmth.
“My fans dig it!” he protests, melting into her touches.
“Your Spidey Squad?” She teased about the recent public team of teens that took some inspiration from Spider-Man’s actions and started doing volunteer work and public services while brandishing replicas of Peter’s old design of his mask that are still on the market. He cried happy tears that night when they found out on social media about the crew’s commendable deeds.
“Yep.” He replied with a happy grin at the mention of those kids.
“I hope they don’t do anything too dangerous, though,” Gwen mumbled into his skin, knowing the effect that would have on him if something bad happened.
“Me too,” he mused.
Edith beeps a signal, indicating she has done her part and now awaiting Peter to finish his.
“Okay, we are set.” Peter triumphantly said with a satisfying grin, disconnected Edith, and checked the new row of notifications that were starting to flood in, directly from the precinct’s system.
“I hope this won’t bite our asses in the future.” Gwen lamented with a pout; she had just accomplices her vigilante boyfriend in hacking into the police’s crime alert system.
“Have some faith in our little girl, babe.” He pouted as he showed her the mimicking expression on Edith’s CG face.
“It feels weird as hell hearing that.” Gwen laughs and gathers all the cardboard and plastic wraps off the table, gesturing for him to retreat towards the main area.
“Everything’s alright down there?” George asked after he noticed two figures of his daughter and Peter Parker ascending towards the last step.
“All set and ready to operate! Sir!” Peter salutes and earns some groans from the policemen.
“Good, now if we can just…” George had a device in his hand, looking around as if expecting to see what he was looking for “Where’s the ladder?”
“Oh! Morgan and Kelly took it on patrol, captain, something about…rooftop grandma?” Officer Torres explained with a grin.
“Great. Now we have to wait on them.” George sighed in frustration; he had planned to quickly wrap this up so he could go back to spend some alone time with his wife, seeing that Howard must have already gone back to his dorm by now.
Peter walked up to them casually took the device from the captain with a smile, and started climbing the antenna pole with dexterity. He set it in place and fastened it with screws, then connected the data cable that lead to the control unit at the base.
Peter jumped down into a crouch; still minding the aspect of not showing off too much acrobatics to them.
“Huh, thanks, Peter,” George said with a tight smile, a flash of recognition darted across his observant irises.
“No probs, cap’n! I used to do rock climbing.” He offered with a confident grin and conviction.
“This is more complicated than my laptop at home.” Officer Johnston moaned from his kneeling position, inspecting the circuitries and electronics inside the box.
“Let me—” Peter starts but a hand on his shoulder stops him, he looks sideway and sees a very curious look adorning Captain Stacy’s face, for a brief moment, before his face softened.
“Fred will be here, thanks for your help. Now, get my girl back safe, okay?” George demanded of him with a hard gaze, Peter felt like there was something underneath that had been quickly swept under a rug for the time being, but then dismissed it by nodding his head as an acknowledgment.
“Hug mom for me?” Gwen said after giving her dad a tight embrace.
“Of course, Wendy,” George cackles at the reaction to her childhood nickname elicits from his daughter; he’s still doing that from time to time, just to prod his daughter. Gwen sticks her tongue out at him while hugging Peter’s arm as they make their way to the stairs.
George swears that he felt a sense he only ever had whenever the Wall Crawler made an appearance behind the police line just to offer help and quip with the stressing cops when he watched Peter climb up the metal frame and almost backflip off of it but decided against it in the end.
He just hoped that, if it was what he thought it was, that boy wouldn’t be putting Gwen in danger.
“Are you kidding me?” Peter exclaims in confusion when Gwen spreads all the pending analytic data of her work that must be translated into reports before a conference due tomorrow at 10.
“Not even a bit, dude,” Gwen shoots him a tired grin “Would you mind getting me some coffee? I think we’ll need it.” Gwen mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him as he smiled softly with a shaking of his head before he redirected himself towards her kitchen.
“So, doc Connors just dump his load on you like that?” he asked from his position while busying himself with her kettle.
“Phrasing!” she chirped back, gaining a snort from him “But, yeah, he said he wanted to focus on this important project, so he asked me to share the other projects with him. I figured it would look good on my portfolio, so I took it.” Gwen declared.
“You’re gonna wear yourself out before turning 30.” He joked as he was back with a big cup of lukewarm coffee, just the way she likes. Sitting down on the floor opposite her.
“Says the man who slept like an hour a night.” Gwen retorted with a pout.
“Hey, I’m adopting Bruce Wayne’s methods!” he defended himself. Gwen can’t help but chuckle at that.
“Batman’s a comic character, dude!” Gwen snorted, picking up one of many collected documents off the ground, and started skimming through it.
“I will have you know that Spider-Man learned many things from him.” He jutted his chin upwards with his lips pursed.
“Sure, nerd.” She jabs with a giggle.
“Nerded by another nerd. Unbelievable."
“We are a bunch of nerds, so what?” Gwen shrugged.
"Correction; I am just a nerd, you are a hot nerd,” Peter states.
“Flattery only gets you so far, mister.” She cackles.
“We’ve been roomies for months, now. I’d say it did me pretty good, so far.” He nods to himself with a smug on his face. Gwen snorts and throws the finished document at him, which his Spider-Sense triggered.
“Oh, please! I only keep you around because I want to use your body, duh!” Gwen offered with a ridicule expression on her face, but her teasing tone betrayed the true intention and Peter faked a gasp immediately.
“You are a terrible person! Using me like a piece of meat! How dare you!?” If she hadn’t known him for this long, she would have thought he was those acting students rather than a brilliant but slightly sociopathic and somewhat handsome scientist she’d fallen for.
“Sorry for being honest, cutie, but it is what it is.” She shrugged her shoulders playfully at him.
“Alright,” he chuckled after a while of holding it in, and gesturing for the next collection of research papers in front of them “let go through these quick, I want to be used now.” He leered with a charming smirk, which heated her core.
After having Edith run through the remaining soft files, he and Gwen took a shower together, remembering each other’s little details again after their times apart.
His hands and touches are still tender but aggressive at the same time, exploring each nook and cranny with subconscious precisions of where she best appreciates them.
She encouraged him to be more forceful after their first month living together at her apartment and even did some calculations with him on how much pressure he could exert based on some of his feats of strength shown throughout the years of his Spider-Manning.
His tender and vanilla natures are always welcomed, but Gwen has her kinks and needs as well and she feels loved that he is willing to comply with them alongside her.
So far? She very much enjoys this wilder side of his.
“Careful!” she giggled out between ragged breathing as he presses her up against the shower room wall, holstering her body by his hands on her ass as he dictates the pace of her bouncing on him.
“I’ll go buy some plasters if it cracks,” she smiled against his drooling mouth as he huffed the dismissal out as grunts and moans exchanged between their steamy bodies.
“That will come with additional fees,” she cranes her neck up as her body is being controlled by his superior strength, offering her neck for his hungry kisses to claim them.
“And maybe some medical bills,” he laughs into her skin, the vibration of his voice sends shivers down her spine while she mewls into his embrace and constant thrusts.
“Someone’s being kinky~~” she sang with short breaths and her nails started to prick the skin of his upper back, which seemed to encourage Peter even more.
He kissed her sweet lips again, and again while suppressing her moans from escaping as he quickened their pace.
“I miss you, Gwen.” He cried out as his throbbing junior being choked down by the constricting walls enclosing him as she rode off her orgasm, still clinging to him by his neck and biting on his lower lip to lessen some of the overwhelming sensation coursing through her naked and soaked body right now.
Peter caresses her cheeks tenderly, easing her off the height by rolling her hips into his, grinding their pelvises together as a groan escapes her throat.
“Fucking misses you too, Pete.” Gwen slurred out with a dizzy grin and dived in to stab her tongue against his, slowly stimulating themselves with him as a support.
He grunts as his swollen member throbs inside her still-sensitive folds, he draws out a long stroke before embedding himself into her again, and again, and again, and then he fills up the condom and lets the warmth spread to her through the thin layer of protection between them.
“Hungry?” he asked between peppering kisses across her flush torso, playing with her perky breasts with sensational touches especially customized to her preferences after many nights together.
Gwen hums positively while her fingers rake through his freshly cut brunette curls, massaging and making patterns into his scalp.
“How about we go to F.E.A.S.T.? Today’s a bonfire day, isn’t it?” Gwen offered after Peter ceased his foreplay and began to take a comfortable position on top of her. Their bed cushions their weights as the messy sheets tell a story of recent passion.
“You wanna spend time with the kids?” Peter asked from his position and enjoyed the tenderness she offered to his scalp.
“Yeah.” She smiles fondly at how he seems to be at ease using her as his pillow.
“Aww, mama Gwen misses her little ducklings?” he jests and adjusts himself to rest his chin on the valley between her breasts, smiling that stupid grin up at her.
“Shut it!” She squeals at him.
Both reached the vicinity of the shelter about half an hour later, seeing many occupants and staff members busy collecting dried wooden planks from a demolition site nearby into a big bonfire in the common area outside of the building. Some orphan kids and residents’ children run around in giggles while the grown-ups are chatting among themselves with a relaxing air emanating from the scene.
Martin Li, the founder of the shelter, had dedicated at least once a month to hosting such an event, to let his staff members enjoy themselves and bonding with their charges. The socialist and philanthropist himself spotted the newcomers immediately and approached them with a bright smile on his face.
“Gwen and Peter!” Martin greeted them with handshakes, never losing the warm smile on his face “Will you be joining us for the night? We had some of the locals bringing food and drinks along with our regulars; some of the Harlem communions are here too,” Martin looked back at the scenery with a sigh of contentment “Things are turning up for us this year, mister Daniel Rand also sending some supplies! I’m a happy man!” Martin exclaims loudly to both; the Asian man’s enthusiasm is contagious as always.
“That’s great, Mister Li!” Gwen beamed, still hooking her arm with Peter’s, as she smiled brightly at her former warden during the time she had taken shelter here with her little brother. “We just wanna hang around a bit,” Gwen concluded for them, but Peter let out a chuckle and a silly grin.
“She misses her kids,” he winked at Mister Li and the two men laughed alongside one another at how red Gwen’s cheeks were.
“Well, welcome! Enjoy the night!” Martin gestured for them as he excused himself to the sideline, walking towards someone standing under a lamppost. Peter felt something unease about the stranger’s presence but dropped it when he felt little hands grabbing his free fingers. Looking down, he saw the sandy mob of Jinny along her trademark grin missing a tooth as always, and grins back at the little girl.
“Hey Jinny! You havin' fun tonight?” Peter cooed at her; despite how much he teased about her missing the kids, Gwen enjoyed the sweetness Peter himself always showed whenever he was around these little demons.
“Are you gonna, tell a story like last time?” Jinny asked between her missing teeth, which rendered her little voice even cuter.
“Of course! I even brought Gwen with me!” he gestures for the little creature towards the blonde at his side, Jinny’s grin widens at the sight.
“Okay, okay! Up you go!” Gwen giggled as Jinny spread her arms waiting for the lift. The blonde lowered herself and picked the little Latina up under the armpits, securing the giggling little thing against her chest for support and making their way inside the vicinity of the shelter. Her free hand is linked with Peter’s.
From an outsider’s perspective, it almost looks like a façade of a happy little family.
Peter always comes up with some kind of physical storytelling for the kids, often about some memorable and embarrassing moments of their favorite Arachnid-theme hero, in vivid details and some cool acrobatic tricks.
She sat there, little Jinny tucked under her chin as the little girl produced laughs and giggles at all the silly things Peter entertained their group with.
F.E.A.S.T. hosts a few kids, both with their parent/parents within the shelter’s protection or orphans for various reasons. Gwen always had a soft spot for them whenever she would volunteer the daily work after her parents returned and her life was somewhat steady.
May Parker was one of the people who made her appreciate the notion of helping others whenever you can; seeing the wonderful woman’s nephew in front of her right now? She understands why he turned out the way he is, masked and no mask.
Peter, being raised almost entirely by his aunt, grew up to be a very empathetic person, tempered by May’s soft influences over the years made him quit being angry and bitter over time, he told her that one night as they cuddled on the couch, watching Clone Wars on his laptop.
A smile made its way up her lips, looking at the silly dork who, without a second thought, willingly put himself in harm’s way and expected nothing in return except some gratitude and snacks as payment.
A picture, a blurry one like a wet canvas, starting to form in the realm of her dreams, sketching onto itself outlines of scenery she can’t describe. One she is willing to be oblivious about for the time being and returns her attention just in time for Peter to do his famous kick-flip.
Unbeknownst to any of them, a pair of emerald eyes stare at the gathering from up high, perching in the shadow in her newly modified catsuit; she had Mason get rid of many bulky parts of the armor, even profiting off the removed parts, and customized it more into her liking. The claws are still there, obviously, but she ditched the helm as it messed up her now longer platinum hair tied into a ponytail behind her head.
The white furs decorating her arms, legs, and collar gives off a stark contrast to the non-reflective materials of the rest.
Her eyes study the flipping figure through the visor, adjusting distance and resolution automatically to her eyes, and curiously noting details about the forgotten man she happened to remember for years.
Peter Parker gave off a normal vibe, as one can be with that unintentional confidence smirk, powerful muscles that can punch through concrete and bend metal, and the face of a high school kid who took it upon himself to balance the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.
She feels a bit light as those eyes look up for a few seconds, and she sees some lingering sadness in them. Not as much as the day his existence was erased, but they are still haunting.
Her ears picked out a struggle from nearby, averting her sight from the hero, Felicia made her way towards the source.
Greeted by a blood-boiling scene of two muggers trying to do something with a scared woman, Felicia throws all caution away as she quickly shoots a hook line from her gauntlet, penetrating the left one’s shoulder before activating its winch to reel her lighter frame into the mugger’s bulkier one, rearing a flying knee aim at the back of his head. Her armored knee collided with a loud crack. She did not give such mercy as the Spider and quickly shot another hook from her other gauntlet at the shocked mugger, the hook pierced through his throat, and Felicia pulled forcefully until his chin collided with her upward-thrust palm, cracking his jaw as a result.
The woman whimpers in fear at the bloody scene; she is grateful for the safe, but quite scared of how brutal her savior seems to be.
Felicia kept her frame mostly in the dark, on the dim glow of her visor lens managed to announce itself as she examined the frightened woman. Satisfied with the condition the woman is in, she unlatched the hooks and aimed high, hoisting herself upwards gracefully.
A pair of dull red eyes followed her movement, Daredevil was about a second away from jumping down himself but opted to observe the new player in town.
He had agreed with Spider-Man to take up some of his patrols as the younger vigilante might need some private time to relax and rest, as the Spider insists on covering more grounds than his and Luke’s routines combined.
Matt jumped down quietly, checking the pulses of two injured muggers, and breathed out a sigh of relief as he found pulses from both.
By some divine intervention, both muggers survived, albeit with traumatic injuries.
“There’s a new one in town,” Matt simply announces through their communication channel; one that Spider-Man had set up for the Defenders and himself for easier information sharing.
He heard Luke Cage’s hums in contemplation, Jessica’s groan of annoyance, and Peter’s acknowledgment.
“Some new suicidal teenager on the prowl again? What is it about this damn town that seems to draw them?” Jessica whined into their communication with exaggeration and evident annoyance; this meant more work for her as she would need to investigate her identify this new clown as well.
“Pizza?” Peter offered with a chuckle, Jessica was not amused.
“What do we know about them?” Luke cut in before Jessica could retort the smartass Spider, directly to Matt as the blind lawyer was the one on scene and called them about it.
“Judging from heartbeats and scents, I’d say a young woman, around mid-20s. Very athletic and knows some self-defense.” He explained what he got from the information available for his heightened senses.
Peter lets out a curious noise at the description, which seems to garner attention from Jessica as the PI asks immediately in her no-nonsense tone.
“Have something to share with the class, bug-boy?”
“I…don’t know, yet, I will need some time to look into this before I can say anything,” Peter concluded for them; Jessica hissed out an irritated sound while the other two just acknowledged his contribution.
“Wanna team up, then? Tomorrow at 7 PM at the site? Maybe you can do your…nerd things while I ask some locals about it.” Jessica offered with a defeated sigh; she got too little sleep to be dealing with that little chit, but it seemed like she had to.
“Sure,” Peter agreed simply.
Felicia reached her penthouse and flopped onto the carpet on her living area floor, groaning from the sore of abrupt traversals. Looking at the king-sized bed with fluffy pillows, her eyes fell upon the thing that stood out the most.
A cut out of a newspaper about Spider-Man, from 2024; the day after the Liberty Island incident. She had kept it in curiosity.
The photo is odd because half of the candid that was supposed to be the exposed identity was burnt off by some kind of energy, leaving only half of Parker’s iconic mask.
Felicia drags herself off the floor and into her shower, rinsing off sweats and fatigue, and gets into her bed. Her hands lightly hover over the framed paper, and bring it off its place to hold it above her face, studying the picture and trying to place Peter Parker’s face where it should be; she still remembers the baffled look he had when she called out his name, convinced for years that no one remember him.
She bit her lower lip in deep thought, contemplating how someone could be so…Spider-Man, as to erase his existence just to save others. What kind of pain a man like that could be harboring under those smiles and laughs?
She chides herself for thinking too much about him. And replace the frame into its place before lying on her side, trying to sleep despite the residue of adrenaline from her earlier exploit.
Wilson Fisk has no qualms about how she uses her free time; whether to nick some jewelry, indulging her needs of excitement provided by death-defying gymnastics across the night, or beating up some wannabe criminals.
He had one rule; do not compromise his work and always deliver a promise to him, other than those conditions, she is as free as a house cat.
Mused to herself at her feline pun, she dozed off after a while.