Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

INTRODUCTION 

Just got the idea for this story but few tweaks to the original timeline and it will have the story of our very own Peter Parker post no way home and how he navigates further. This story is a sort of second installment although labelled as part 1 as the prequel will be given later and I will not abandon this work like my previous ones and those stories will be further updated too, make sure to check them out.

• WandaVision events didn’t occur

• Introduction of fantastic four 

• Love and thunder didn’t occur

• Marvels didn’t occur

A lot of changes from the marvel phases but that’s the point of our own fanfic.

Also let me know your own pairings also and please no Spideychelle as not a fan of MJ at all and MCU’s MJ is not even MJ so sorry zendeya fans. Also since ned and Michelle forgot Peter so new life new friends new relationships 

Chapter Text

CHAPTER 1

Peter Parker had always been good at keeping things to himself.

Ever since Strange’s spell wiped away all memory of him, he had stopped trying to connect with people. There was no point. No friends. No attachments. No distractions. Just his work, his patrols, and his mission.

Empire State University was supposed to be a fresh start. A place where he could focus solely on his studies —mechanical and chemical engineering. No one knew him here. No one whispered about Spider-Man. To them, he was just a cold, aloof genius who never spoke to anyone.

And that was exactly how he wanted it

Another Boring Lecture

Peter sat in his Introduction to Advanced Materials Science lecture, hood pulled over his head, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

Dr. Lin was droning on about polymer synthesis , his voice barely registering in Peter’s mind. He had already read through the entire textbook, understood every formula, every application. This was a waste of time.

His eyelids grew heavy.

“SIR,” ERIC’s voice buzzed in his earpiece. “WOULD YOU LIKE A STATUS UPDATE ON AVENGER ACTIVITY?”

Peter tilted his head slightly, pretending to adjust his hoodie. “Go ahead.”

“COLONEL RHODES IS IN A CLASSIFIED ACCORDS MEETING. CAPTAIN WILSON AND SERGEANT BARNES ARE ENGAGED IN A LOW-RISK OPERATION IN MADRIPOOR. KATE BISHOP AND YELENA BELOVA ARE TRACKING A HYDRA REMNANT IN WASHINGTON, D.C. NO MAJOR THREATS DETECTED.”

Peter let out a quiet sigh. “Anything from Strange?”

“DOCTOR STRANGE IS CURRENTLY ANALYZING AN ANOMALY LINKED TO THE DARK DIMENSION. NO IMMEDIATE CAUSE FOR CONCERN.”

“Got it,” Peter murmured. “Keep monitoring.”

“ACKNOWLEDGED, SIR.”

He leaned back, closing his eyes. If nothing major was happening, he could afford a short nap.

A Glimpse of the Baxter Building

By the time class ended, Peter was the first one out the door. He didn’t acknowledge the other students, and they didn’t acknowledge him.

They all knew the same thing—Peter Parker didn’t talk to people.

No group projects. No study partners. No casual conversations. Just a ghost in the classroom , showing up when he felt like it, handing in flawless assignments, then disappearing again.

As he made his way across campus, something caught his eye—a poster pinned to the job board.

“INTERNSHIPS AVAILABLE AT THE BAXTER BUILDING! WORK WITH SOME OF THE GREATEST SCIENTIFIC MINDS IN THE WORLD!”

Peter slowed his pace.

The Baxter Building.

A world-renowned research center. A place filled with brilliant engineers and scientists. The kind of people who could actually challenge him.

For a moment, he considered it. Applying. Testing himself.

Then he shook his head. Not yet.

He turned away, heading back to his dorm. He had better things to do.

Tinkering and Isolation

Peter’s dorm was barely lived in.

A bed. A desk. A mini-fridge full of energy drinks and protein bars. Textbooks stacked in a corner, untouched.

The real workspace? His desk.

It was covered in half-assembled web-shooters, microprocessors, mechanical servos. His latest project—a new adaptive web formula —was nearly complete.

As he worked, ERIC chimed in.

“SIR, WOULD YOU LIKE TO REVIEW CRIME PATTERNS FOR YOUR NEXT PATROL?”

“Yeah,” Peter muttered, adjusting a circuit.

“NO MAJOR THREATS DETECTED. HOWEVER, THERE HAVE BEEN MULTIPLE BLACK CAT SIGHTINGS NEAR THE UPPER EAST SIDE.”

Peter exhaled sharply. Felicia.

She had been all over the place lately. Breaking into vaults, stealing priceless artifacts. And yet, every time he caught her, she slipped away with a smirk and a playful remark.

“Track her movements, ERIC. Let me know if she pulls something big.”

“UNDERSTOOD, SIR.”

Peter glanced at the time. Late.

Time to suit up.

Minutes later, Peter was swinging through the city, the wind rushing past him. This was the only time he felt truly free.

No lectures. No blank stares from classmates. No expectations. Just him and the city.

“SIR,” ERIC’s voice interrupted. “POLICE SCANNERS REPORT A ROBBERY IN PROGRESS ON 45TH AND LEXINGTON.”

Peter grinned. “Finally.”

With a flick of his wrist, he changed course. Time to get to work.

Chapter Text

ANOTHER TUESDAY NIGHT

45th and Lexington. A standard robbery—three guys, ski masks, a getaway car, and a clerk too scared to press the alarm.

For anyone else, this might have been a big deal. For Spider-Man? Just another Tuesday night.

Peter landed silently on the roof of the corner store, peering down through the skylight. The robbers were busy stuffing cash into a duffel bag. One of them kept glancing at the door , clearly the nervous one.

Peter sighed. Not even a challenge.

Dropping down, he landed right in front of them with a casual wave. “Hey, fellas. Quick question—do you guys ever, like, try ?”

All three men froze.

Then, predictably, one of them pulled a gun.

Peter tilted his head. “Okay, that’s adorable.”

The guy fired.

Peter didn’t even bother dodging—he just flicked his wrist, webbing up the barrel. “Come on, man. Guns? In this economy?”

Before they could react, he webbed the second guy’s hands to his sides , kicked the third one into a shelf of potato chips, and yanked the first guy forward, slamming him onto the checkout counter.

The clerk blinked at him.

Peter nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Then he casually webbed all three of them to the floor. Easy.

The next morning, Peter strolled onto campus, hoodie up, hands in his pockets. He kept his pace even, ignoring the scattered glances from students as he walked past. Everyone at ESU knew who he was—The quiet genius.

The one who never talked, never joined study groups, never even acknowledged his classmates.

He never hung out in the lounge, never went to parties. Professors knew him as the kid who aced every exam but never spoke in class.

Today was no different.

As he entered his Advanced Thermodynamics lecture, he moved straight to the back row, slumped into his chair, and pulled his hoodie lower over his face.

Dr. Michaels, his professor, barely glanced at him before starting the lecture. They all knew the routine—Peter would hand in perfect assignments, never engage, then leave.

Halfway through the class, his eyes grew heavy.

“SIR,” ERIC’s voice buzzed in his earpiece. “SHOULD I RUN A BACKGROUND ANALYSIS ON YOUR PROFESSOR? HE HAS MADE THREE MATHEMATICAL ERRORS SO FAR.”

Peter smirked. “Nah, let him figure it out.”

Then he closed his eyes and drifted off.

After class, Peter cut through the student commons, moving toward the exit—until he saw it again.

The Baxter Building internship poster.

He slowed down.

It still lingered in his mind—the idea of actually challenging himself, working with people who could keep up with him.

But that meant being noticed. Interacting.

He exhaled sharply and walked past it. Not yet.

Peter’s dorm was the same as always— quiet, untouched, except for his workbench.

Sitting down, he picked up his latest project: a new web formula. Stronger. More elastic. Better suited for extreme temperatures.

As he worked, ERIC chimed in.

“SIR, BLACK CAT HAS BEEN SPOTTED NEAR A HIGH-SECURITY VAULT IN MIDTOWN. WOULD YOU LIKE TO INTERVENE?”

Peter smirked. Felicia.

She had been everywhere lately. Always just ahead of him. Always just slipping away.

“Let’s go pay her a visit.”

Midtown – 11:47 PM

A quiet night, relatively speaking. No major villain attacks, no world-ending disasters. Just the usual city scum trying to steal things that didn’t belong to them.

And, of course— her.

Perched on the rooftop of an old office building, Spider-Man scanned the alleyway below, where a high-tech vault was built into the back of an upscale jewelry store.

The vault door was already open.

Peter smirked behind his mask. Predictable.

“ERIC, where’s our favorite cat?”

“SIR, BLACK CAT IS CURRENTLY INSIDE THE VAULT. SECURITY SYSTEMS WERE BYPASSED USING A MODIFIED ELECTROMAGNETIC FREQUENCY SCRAMBLER. SHE HAS APPROXIMATELY—”

The vault door slammed shut.

”—FINISHED.”

Peter jumped down, flipping mid-air before landing directly in front of the exit. Just as expected, a figure dropped down from the rooftop , landing gracefully on her feet.

Black Cat.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Peter quipped, tilting his head.

Felicia Hardy, dressed in her sleek, black catsuit, smirked. “You always know how to make a girl feel special.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Yeah, well, I tend to get suspicious when a certain someone keeps targeting high-end vaults in the same district.”

Felicia shrugged. “What can I say? I have expensive taste. ”

Her silver-white hair glowed under the dim city lights.

Peter took a step forward. “You know, if you ever want to make an honest living, there are other ways to pay the bills.”

Felicia chuckled, stepping closer as well. “Where’s the fun in that?” “Really Cat, you don’t ever get tired of this game of chase” Peter asked slightly angry at her antics and sighs.

“Aww spider I thought you liked it espresso when you get to watch my tight little behind in leather suit” Felicia teased him while he grunted jaw tightening at her teasing. Then, in a blur, she tossed a smoke pellet at his feet.

“Really?” Peter groaned. “Smoke bombs? Come on, I thought we were past this—”

Felicia was already gone.

Peter sighed, watching as her silhouette disappeared into the skyline.

“SIR, WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO TRACK HER TRAJECTORY?”

Peter exhaled. “Nah. Let her have her fun.”

Peter kicked off his boots and tossed his mask onto the workbench. Another night, another Felicia chase.

But tonight, he had other things to do.

“ERIC, pull up everything you can on the Baxter Building internship.”

A holographic display flickered to life above his desk.

“THE BAXTER INTERNSHIP IS AN EXCLUSIVE PROGRAM DESIGNED FOR THE TOP ENGINEERING AND SCIENCE STUDENTS IN THE COUNTRY. ACCEPTANCE RATE: 2.7%. CANDIDATES MUST PASS A MULTI-STAGE APPLICATION PROCESS, INCLUDING A TECHNICAL EXAM, A PRACTICAL ENGINEERING PROJECT, AND A FINAL INTERVIEW WITH A PANEL OF SCIENTISTS, INCLUDING DR. REED RICHARDS.”

Peter leaned back in his chair. Reed Richards.

One of the smartest men on the planet. The guy had hundreds of published research papers. If Peter got in, he’d finally be working alongside real geniuses.

“Alright, ERIC, give me a breakdown of the application. What do I need?”

“INITIAL APPLICATION REQUIRES A RESUME, A PERSONAL STATEMENT, AND A RESEARCH PROPOSAL. THE TECHNICAL EXAM FOCUSES ON ADVANCED ENGINEERING PRINCIPLES, QUANTUM MECHANICS, AND CUTTING-EDGE MATERIAL SCIENCE.”

Peter rubbed his temples. “Ugh. Sounds fun.”

“THE PRACTICAL PROJECT MUST DEMONSTRATE INNOVATION IN MECHANICAL OR CHEMICAL ENGINEERING. APPLICANTS ARE ENCOURAGED TO PRESENT PROTOTYPES OR WORKING MODELS.”

Peter’s fingers drummed against the desk. A prototype.

He had plenty of ideas—some way beyond anything ESU could even dream of.

But if he submitted something too advanced … Wouldn’t that raise questions?

He had to be careful.

“ERIC, start compiling research topics for an engineering project. Something impressive, but not too crazy.”

“UNDERSTOOD, SIR.”

Peter leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

He wasn’t sure why he was hesitating. Maybe it was the idea of putting himself out there. Of people actually noticing him.

But if he wanted to work with the best, this was the way in.

He was going to apply.

And he was going to win

Chapter Text

ESU Dorm – 9:27 AM

Peter Parker wasn’t asleep.

Well, technically , he was half-asleep—his head rested against the workbench, one hand still gripping a screwdriver. He had passed out at some point during the night while sketching out potential designs for his Baxter internship project.

His dorm was a mess. Papers were scattered across the floor, digital schematics flickered on multiple holographic displays, and a half-eaten sandwich from two days ago sat forgotten near his laptop.

A sharp beep jolted him awake.

“SIR, YOU HAVE BEEN UNCONSCIOUS FOR EXACTLY THREE HOURS AND FORTY-TWO MINUTES. I CALCULATED A 96% LIKELIHOOD THAT YOU WOULD AWAKEN IN A STATE OF DISORIENTATION AND IRRITATION.”

Peter groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Thanks, ERIC. Love the optimism.”

“YOU’RE WELCOME, SIR.”

Pushing himself up, Peter looked at the holographic projection in front of him. The screen was filled with dozens of rejected ideas, all crossed out.

“Alright, where are we?” he muttered, stretching.

“OUR CURRENT LEADING PROJECT CONCEPTS INCLUDE:”

• Bio- polymer adaptive armor – Too advanced. Reed Richards would ask too many questions.

• Microfusion energy cells – Potentially good, but too risky. If anyone reverse-engineered it, they’d figure out he had access to technology way beyond ESU’s level.

• Liquid memory metal framework – Too close to Stark-tech. If anyone saw it in action, they’d start wondering where it came from.

Peter exhaled, rubbing his temples. “We need something impressive but not so insane that it makes me look like a time traveler from the future.”

“IN THAT CASE, I HAVE FILTERED THE REMAINING OPTIONS TO ONLY INCLUDE TECHNOLOGIES THAT A GIFTED BUT RELATIVELY NORMAL COLLEGE STUDENT COULD PLAUSIBLY DEVELOP.”

A new list popped up.

1. Self-repairing composite materials for aerospace applications

2. Advanced non-Newtonian body armor for impact resistance

3. Nanofiber electromagnetic shielding for electronics

4. Smart polymer exoskeleton for physical rehabilitation

Peter squinted. “Alright, those aren’t bad. They’re ambitious, but not impossible .”

He tapped on the second option.

“Non-Newtonian armor… That could be useful.”

It wasn’t as crazy as Stark’s bleeding-edge nano-tech, but it was practical. A lightweight suit that hardened on impact, reducing blunt force trauma. Police forces, military, rescue workers— so many people could use something like this.

And the best part? It wouldn’t make anyone suspect he was secretly Spider-Man.

“ERIC, rough estimate on completion time?”

“ASSUMING ROUND-THE-CLOCK DEVELOPMENT WITH MINIMAL SLEEP, I ESTIMATE SIX DAYS AND EIGHT HOURS TO COMPLETE A FULLY FUNCTIONAL PROTOTYPE.”

Peter grimaced. “Great. And how long do we have?”

“SIX DAYS AND TWELVE HOURS UNTIL THE DEADLINE.”

Peter exhaled. “Cutting it close.”

“INDEED, SIR. MAY I REMIND YOU THAT CONTINUED SLEEP DEPRIVATION WILL NEGATIVELY IMPACT YOUR PERFORMANCE?”

Peter waved a hand. “I’ll be fine.”

ERIC didn’t respond, but Peter could feel the AI’s disapproval.

12:48 PM – Project Kickoff

The first step was the materials.

Fortunately, Peter had a secret advantage —one that no one knew about.

He pulled up a locked storage compartment in his dorm and activated a biometric scan. The door slid open , revealing a compact but powerful fabrication system.

Stark’s fabricator.

After Strange erased him from everyone’s memories he had to rely on his homemade suit and while it was easy and not too flashy it certainly held up but he could not rely only on a single suit which he learned from Tony, and so he had discreetly taken it from Happy’s apartment before anyone could claim it. No one knew he had it.

It was his now , his reminder of his early peaceful life of how easy it was and with people to rely on , with his aunt the one who always backed him , who constantly worried about his well-being and the one who was not afraid to stand up to Ironman when she knew of his night time activities. And of his mentor, his support and his father figure, whom he looked upto and wanted the man to be proud of him, who he learnt so much from - Tony Stark.

And he was going to use it.

“Alright, ERIC, let’s get to work.”

With a deadline breathing down his neck, Peter didn’t have time to waste.

He wasn’t just going to submit a great project.

He was going to submit something unforgettable.

ESU Dorm – 3:12 PM

The hum of the fabricator filled Peter’s dorm room as molten material was layered into the first test sample. The smell of burning polymers lingered in the air, and holographic projections of molecular structures flickered across his laptop screen.

He hadn’t moved from his desk in hours.

A cold cup of coffee sat next to him, untouched. His hoodie was crumpled from leaning against the chair, and his fingers were stained with bits of resin and synthetic polymers.

“SIR, YOUR CAFFEINE INTAKE HAS DROPPED BELOW OPTIMAL LEVELS. I RECOMMEND INGESTING A BEVERAGE TO MAINTAIN MENTAL ALERTNESS.”

Peter blinked at the screen, then at the coffee.

“Oh. Right.”

He took a sip, wincing at the bitterness. It had gone cold hours ago, but he wasn’t going to waste it.

“WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO ORDER A FRESH COFFEE FROM YOUR USUAL CAFE?”

Peter shook his head. “Nah, I don’t want them getting suspicious about how much coffee I’m drinking. I swear the barista already looks at me weird.”

“UNDERSTOOD. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO CONTINUE ANALYZING THE BAXTER INTERNSHIP APPLICATION REQUIREMENTS?”

“Yeah, tell me what we’re up against.”

The holographic display shifted , bringing up the official Baxter Building Internship Program guidelines.

REVIEW PROCESS:

• Preliminary Screening: Applicants submit a detailed project proposal outlining their concept, materials, and theoretical application.

• Technical Assessment: Selected candidates demonstrate a prototype and undergo a Q&A session with senior engineers.

• Final Interview: Shortlisted candidates meet with the review panel , including Reed Richards.

SELECTION CRITERIA:

• Innovation & Practical Application – 40%

• Technical Execution – 30%

• Presentation & Explanation – 20%

• Problem-Solving Skills – 10%

Peter tapped his chin. “Alright. So, we just need to make something impressive enough to get past the first round.”

“CORRECT, SIR. HOWEVER, BASED ON HISTORICAL DATA, ONLY 12% OF APPLICANTS MAKE IT TO THE FINAL INTERVIEW.”

Peter let out a low whistle. “Damn. They don’t mess around.”

“INDEED, SIR. REED RICHARDS HAS A REPUTATION FOR DISMISSING CANDIDATES WHO PRESENT THEORETICAL CONCEPTS WITHOUT SUFFICIENT PRACTICAL EXECUTION.”

“Great,” Peter muttered. “So he doesn’t want dreamers. He wants builders. ”

Which meant half-baked ideas wouldn’t cut it.

His non-Newtonian body armor had to be functional. Not just a concept. A real, working prototype.

Peter cracked his knuckles and turned back to the fabricator.

“Alright, ERIC. Let’s build something Baxter won’t forget.”

8:56 PM – Progress & Problems

It wasn’t going well.

The first batch of polymer collapsed under stress testing. The second batch froze at the wrong temperatures. The third batch wasn’t flexible enough.

Peter let out a frustrated groan , tossing a failed sample across the room. It bounced off the wall and landed near a pile of notes.

“SIR, YOUR SUCCESS RATE HAS DROPPED TO 23%. PERHAPS A SHORT BREAK WOULD IMPROVE PERFORMANCE?”

“I don’t have time for a break, ERIC,” Peter muttered, rubbing his face.

He needed a breakthrough. Something to make the polymer both flexible and impact-resistant.

Peter stared at the screen, thinking.

What if the material needed a structural memory component? Something that could shift between soft and rigid states?

His eyes widened.

“ERIC, cross-reference smart polymer designs with piezoelectric nanomaterials.”

A new schematic appeared.

Peter’s heart pounded.

This could work.

11:57 PM – Breakthrough

By the time the next test sample came out of the fabricator, Peter was barely keeping his eyes open.

He placed the polymer under stress testing and activated the charge.

The material instantly hardened.

Peter held his breath.

He deactivated the charge.

It softened again.

Peter grinned.

“Holy shit. We did it.”

“CONGRATULATIONS, SIR.”

He leaned back, exhausted but triumphant.

Now, all he had to do was build the full prototype.

And he only had five days left.

Chapter Text

Day 1 – Refining the Formula

The next morning, Peter woke up face-down on his desk, his cheek stuck to a page of calculations.

The faint hum of the fabricator still echoed in the dorm, the latest test batch cooling in the chamber. His eyes were burning from lack of sleep, but he didn’t have time to waste.

“SIR, YOUR HEART RATE INDICATES SEVERE FATIGUE. I RECOMMEND REST.”

Peter groaned, pushing himself up. “No time, ERIC. We’ve got five days.”

He grabbed a protein bar , took a massive bite , and immediately went back to work.

Day 2 – Skipping Class & Running on Caffeine

Peter hadn’t left his dorm.

His inbox was filled with class notifications. Professors reminding him of attendance policies. Students whispering about the mysterious genius who never shows up.

Peter didn’t care.

He only left his room once—to grab four large coffees from the campus café.

The barista gave him a weird look.

“That for a party?”

Peter just stared at her. “Yeah. Sure. A party.”

He walked out before she could ask more questions.

Day 3 – The Exam & The Professor’s Fury

“SIR, YOU HAVE AN EXAM IN 25 MINUTES.”

Peter froze. “Wait. What?”

“YOUR MECHANICAL ENGINEERING MIDTERM. FAILURE TO ATTEND MAY RESULT IN COURSE PENALTIES.”

Peter sighed. He couldn’t fail the course.

Throwing on a hoodie , he grabbed his backpack and left his dorm for the first time in days.

Classroom – 10:00 AM

The moment Peter walked in, every head turned.

He hadn’t shown up in weeks. The professor —a tall, grey-haired man with permanent disappointment in his eyes — glared at him.

“Mr. Parker,” he said, voice dripping with irritation. “Nice of you to join us. I was beginning to think you’d dropped out.”

Peter just shrugged.

The professor sighed. “Sit down. You have 90 minutes.”

Peter took his seat, cracked his knuckles, and started.

10:37 AM 

Peter stood up.

The professor blinked. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m done.”

The entire class turned to look at him.

“You can’t be done,” the professor said. “That’s a three-part exam.”

Peter wordlessly placed his exam on the desk. Every answer was correct.

The professor scanned it, his face twitching in irritation.

Peter just gave him a lazy two-fingered salute. “See you next time, professor. Maybe.”

Then he walked out, heading straight for coffee.

Day 4 – The Breakthrough

By now, Peter was surviving on coffee, protein bars, and pure spite.

The polymer armor was functional. It could shift between states seamlessly. But now came the hard part—scalability.

“SIR, YOUR CURRENT DESIGN IS ONLY VIABLE FOR SMALL-SCALE APPLICATIONS. FOR A FULL-BODY PROTOTYPE, YOU WILL NEED TO INCREASE MATERIAL EFFICIENCY BY 45%.”

Peter rubbed his temples. “Great. Just great.”

It was back to calculations.

Back to long nights.

Back to nonstop testing.

The deadline was in less than 24 hours.

Peter had barely slept. His body felt like hell. But the prototype was finally complete.

A lightweight non-Newtonian nano-fiber suit , capable of absorbing and redistributing kinetic energy. It could be used for hazard suits, military applications, or even advanced sportswear.

It was perfect.

Now, all he had to do was submit it.

Finalizing the Application

Peter stretched his arms , his joints popping from hours of hunching over his desk. The dim glow of his laptop screen cast shadows across his dorm, illuminating piles of empty coffee cups, protein bar wrappers, and blueprints scattered across the room.

“SIR, THE DEADLINE FOR APPLICATION SUBMISSION IS IN TWO HOURS. ALL REQUIRED SECTIONS HAVE BEEN FILLED, BUT THE FINAL VIDEO DEMONSTRATION REMAINS UNUPLOADED.”

Peter ran a hand through his messy hair, suppressing a yawn. “Right. Let’s do this, ERIC.

Peter adjusted his camera , making sure the lighting was decent. His project— a non-Newtonian nano-fiber suit capable of absorbing and redistributing kinetic energy —was laid out neatly on his workbench.

He pressed record.

“Hey, Baxter team. Peter Parker here. Age 20, mechanical engineering and chemical engineering major at ESU. ”

He gestured to the prototype. “This is my submission for the internship. The material is a lightweight nano-fiber weave , enhanced with a non-Newtonian polymer matrix. Long story short, it hardens on impact but remains flexible under normal movement. It’s highly durable and has potential applications in aerospace, military, sports, and hazardous environments. ”

Peter lifted a metal baseball bat.

“Here’s a simple demonstration.”

He swung the bat at the fabric. The moment of impact, the material hardened , absorbing the force. The bat bounced off with a metallic clang , leaving no dent.

He grabbed a small combat knife and dragged the blade across the surface. No cuts.

“It’s also resistant to sharp objects. I’ve reinforced it on a molecular level, making it lightweight but strong. And before anyone asks— yes, it can stop bullets. I’m not about to test that in my dorm room, but trust me, I ran the simulations.”

Peter smirked. “Hope you like it. Looking forward to the next round.”

He stopped the recording.

“SIR, VIDEO FILE SUCCESSFULLY SAVED. WOULD YOU LIKE TO UPLOAD NOW?”

Peter cracked his knuckles. “Yeah. Let’s submit this thing.”

The Baxter application portal was clean and professional. Peter uploaded his written proposal, research documents, prototype schematics, and video demonstration.

“SIR, APPLICATION SUCCESSFULLY SUBMITTED. RESULTS OF THIS ROUND WILL BE ANNOUNCED TOMORROW AT NOON. SELECTED APPLICANTS WILL BE INVITED TO THE BAXTER BUILDING FOR THE NEXT STAGE.”

Peter exhaled, slumping in his chair. Finally, it was done.

“Alright, ERIC. I actually have free time for once. Let’s—” “ SIR, POLICE REPORTS INDICATE A ROBBERY IN PROGRESS AT A LOCAL CONVENIENCE STORE. MULTIPLE SUSPECTS, ARMED WITH HANDGUNS.”

“Well no rest for the wicked huh”. Peter swung high above the streets, the cool night air refreshing after days of being cooped up in his dorm.

The city below was alive with flashing lights, honking cars, and the murmur of late-night conversations. The neon glow of billboards reflected off glass skyscrapers as Peter perched on a ledge, scanning the streets.

“Alright, time to clock in.”

He leapt off the building , freefalling for a moment before shooting a web and swinging toward the scene.

A small 24/7 store in Brooklyn. The clerk had his hands raised, terror on his face as three masked men pointed guns at him.

“Open the register, old man!”

The clerk fumbled with the cash drawer , hands shaking.

One of the robbers turned to the door. “Hurry up! We don’t got all—”

THWIP!

A web shot out, yanking his gun away.

The man barely had time to react before Spider-Man landed behind him.

“Wow, classic robbery. Three guys, ski masks, guns. You know, real original. I give it a solid two out of ten for creativity.”

The other two robbers spun around. “What the—?!”

Peter casually leaned against a shelf, inspecting a bag of chips. “Also, quick question—why do you guys always pick the most underpaid store clerks to rob? Like, really? This guy’s probably making minimum wage, and you’re over here making his night worse.”

One robber fired his gun.

Too slow.

Peter dodged effortlessly , the bullet shattering a bag of potato chips behind him.

“Oof. That’s a felony right there. Illegal destruction of snacks. ”

He webbed the shooter’s arm, yanking him forward , then spun him around and knocked him out with a single punch.

The last robber panicked and bolted for the door.

Peter sighed. “Why do they always run?”

He casually shot a web at the guy’s ankles, tripping him face-first onto the floor.

The clerk stared, wide-eyed.

“Are… are they unconscious?”

Peter crouched next to one of the robbers, lifting his limp arm. It flopped back down.

“Yep. Night-night.”

He webbed all three of them to the floor.

“Call the cops, sir. And maybe get yourself a coffee after this.”

The clerk nodded. “T-Thank you, Spider-Man.”

Peter gave him a two-fingered salute. “No problem. Stay safe.”

He patrolled for hours before Peter swung away, ERIC’s voice came through his earpiece.

“SIR, YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY PREVENTED FOUR ROBBERIES AND TWO VEHICLE THEFTS TONIGHT. SHALL I PULL UP YOUR DAILY PERFORMANCE METRICS?”

Peter chuckled. “Nah, I don’t need a report card. Let’s call it a night.”

“UNDERSTOOD. SHALL I SET AN ALARM FOR NOON TOMORROW FOR THE BAXTER INTERNSHIP RESULTS?”

“Yeah. And remind me to actually eat a real meal tomorrow.”

“NOTED, SIR. I WILL ALSO INITIATE A SEARCH FOR THE MOST NUTRITIOUS TAKEOUT OPTIONS IN YOUR AREA.”

Peter sighed, exhausted but satisfied.

As he swung through the city, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement.

Tomorrow, he’d find out if he made it to the next round at Baxter.

Chapter Text

Waking Up to Results

Peter groaned as his alarm blared , burying his face into his pillow.

“SIR, IT IS ELEVEN-THIRTY A.M. THE BAXTER INTERNSHIP RESULTS WILL BE ANNOUNCED IN EXACTLY THIRTY MINUTES.”

Peter let out a muffled groan. “Why did I let you wake me up this early?”

“YOU REQUESTED IT LAST NIGHT, SIR. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO PLAY A REFRESHING MORNING PLAYLIST?”

“ERIC, if you play anything, I swear I’ll reprogram you to only speak in 2000s meme references.”

“ACKNOWLEDGED, SIR. I WILL REMAIN SILENT… ”

Peter sighed and forced himself out of bed. His dorm was still a war zone of blueprints, wires, and coffee cups. He rubbed his eyes, shuffled to his desk, and cracked open his laptop.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.”

He checked his university portal first.

A message from his professor was pinned at the top.

Peter Parker,

Your recent absence from classes has been noted. As per university regulations, students who fail to meet attendance requirements will be penalized. However, considering your academic performance, your case is under review.

• Professor Harris

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, threaten me all you want.”

He scrolled to his exam results.

100%.

Peter smirked. “Of course.”

He closed the tab and pulled up the Baxter internship portal.

Baxter Internship Results

“SIR, RESULTS HAVE BEEN POSTED. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO FILTER FOR YOUR NAME?”

“Nah, I got it.”

Peter scrolled through the list of accepted applicants.

And there it was:

Peter Parker – Selected for Next Round.

Peter grinned. “Well, what do you know?”

“CONGRATULATIONS, SIR. SELECTED CANDIDATES ARE REQUIRED TO REPORT TO THE BAXTER BUILDING IN TWO DAYS WITH THEIR PROTOTYPES FOR A LIVE PRESENTATION AND INTERVIEW.”

Peter leaned back in his chair. “Alright, that gives us some time to fine-tune everything.”

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO COMMENCE ADDITIONAL TESTING ON THE PROTOTYPE?”

“Nah, I need a break.” He stretched, then cracked his knuckles. “Let’s go patrol for a bit.”

“ACTIVATING SPIDER-SUIT SYSTEMS. HAVE A SAFE PATROL, SIR.” Peter leapt off his dorm’s rooftop , freefalling for a moment before firing a web and swinging into the open sky. The rush of wind against his face was exhilarating —a welcome relief from staring at screens all night.

New York City was buzzing as usual : taxi drivers cursing, tourists gawking, street vendors hustling.

“SIR, POLICE SCANNER DETECTS A VEHICLE PURSUIT ON FIFTH AVENUE. STOLEN SUV, FOUR SUSPECTS, HEAVILY ARMED.”

Peter adjusted his trajectory. “Alright, let’s ruin their day.”

The stolen black SUV tore through the streets, civilians diving out of the way as the driver ignored every red light. Two police cars trailed behind, sirens blaring.

One of the passengers leaned out with an automatic rifle , firing at the cops.

Peter shot a web at a lamppost, spun around, and launched himself toward the SUV.

“Hey, fellas! Quick question— do you guys have a driver’s license? ”

The gunman turned in shock , just as Peter webbed the barrel of his gun and yanked it away.

“Y’know, firing out of a moving car? Not a great idea. But don’t worry, I’ll give you a ticket.”

He flipped over the car , shot two webs to the roof, and ripped off the doors .

The driver screamed. “What the—?!”

Peter punched him in the face , knocking him out cold.

The SUV spun out, screeching against the pavement before crashing into a streetlight.

The remaining robbers tried to flee.

Peter landed in front of them, arms crossed.

“Running? Really? After all that?”

One of them swung a crowbar. Peter dodged, grabbed his wrist, and webbed him to a mailbox.

The last guy raised his hands in surrender.

Peter nodded. “Smart choice.”

Police officers rushed in, guns drawn.

One of them gave Peter a thumbs-up. “Nice work, Spidey.”

Peter saluted. “All in a night’s work.”

As Peter swung through the city, he activated his communicator.

“ERIC, run a quick check. Any major threats left tonight?”

“NEGATIVE, SIR. THE REMAINING REPORTS ARE MINOR INCIDENTS.”

“Great. Let’s head back.”

“UNDERSTOOD, SIR. SHALL I UPDATE YOUR CALENDAR FOR THE BAXTER INTERVIEW?”

“Yeah, and remind me to not sleep through it.”

“NOTED, SIR. I WILL WAKE YOU UP WITH A HIGH-ENERGY SOUNDTRACK.”

Peter groaned. “Just… don’t make it Nickelback.”

“ACKNOWLEDGED, SIR.”

Peter adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket as he walked up to the towering Baxter Building. It wasn’t anything fancy—just his best attempt at looking presentable—but his physique filled it out well, giving him a refined yet sharp look.

“ERIC, navigate me to the interview location,” Peter muttered under his breath.

“Of course, sir. The primary entrance leads to a security checkpoint. Once cleared, take the elevator to the twelfth floor, where the internship candidates are to wait. You will receive further instructions there.”

Peter exhaled, stepping into the grand lobby of the building. The place screamed high-level innovation—sleek glass walls, cutting-edge holographic displays showcasing Baxter Corporation’s latest advancements, and personnel dressed in professional attire, moving with purpose.

He made his way toward the security checkpoint when something—or rather, someone—completely derailed his train of thought.

An incredibly beautiful blonde woman stood a few feet away, her presence commanding attention without effort. Her curves, proportions, and sheer confidence put even supermodels and goddesses to shame . She had a heart-shaped face, piercing blue eyes, and golden hair that cascaded in perfect waves . She exuded elegance, intelligence, and just the right amount of effortless allure.

Peter’s brain short-circuited. His eyes were shamelessly drinking in every inch of her , lingering on the way her form-fitting outfit accentuated her flawless figure. A primal, almost magnetic attraction pulled at him, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like a complete idiot.

Then she turned to him, caught him staring , and quirked a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

He immediately snapped out of it—just in time to see her smirk. She took a step forward and casually poked his bicep.

“See something you like?” she teased, her voice laced with amusement.

Peter’s brain fried. Words? What were those? He was supposed to form them, right?

“I—uh—no—I mean, yes—wait, no, not like that—” he stumbled, his face heating up in pure embarrassment .

She laughed, soft and utterly enchanting, before shaking her head. “Relax, handsome. I’m just messing with you.”

Handsome? What?

Before he could process that, she tilted her head. “You here for the internship interviews?”

Peter cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. “Uh, yeah. First time here.”

She smiled. “Elevators to the right. Twelfth floor. Follow the signs. Good luck.”

And just like that, she turned and walked away, her confident strides as mesmerizing as the rest of her.

Peter stared some more , still reeling.

“Sir, I advise you to stop gawking before you make a bigger fool of yourself.”

Peter blinked. “Right. Yeah. Good idea.”

As he walked toward the elevators, still feeling residual embarrassment, ERIC decided to drop the bomb.

“That, sir, was Doctor Susan Storm.”

Peter stopped in his tracks. “Wait—what?”

“Doctor Susan Storm. She holds multiple PhDs, making her one of the leading minds at Baxter Corporation. And yes, she is also widely regarded as one of the most beautiful women in the world.”

Peter groaned, rubbing his face. “So, let me get this straight—I just made an idiot out of myself in front of her ? Great. Fantastic. Off to an amazing start.”

“I wouldn’t worry, sir. She seemed amused rather than disgusted.”

“Yeah, because I looked like a lost puppy trying to speak.”

“At least you didn’t drool.”

“ERIC, not helping.”

Suppressing another groan, Peter focused on the interview ahead , stepping into the waiting area. Several other candidates were already present, most of them significantly older than him. Not surprising. Baxter didn’t accept just anyone—they wanted the brightest minds.

After what felt like an eternity, a voice finally called his name.

Peter stood before the interview panel , a team of Baxter’s most accomplished engineers and scientists— including Reed Richards himself . His prototype was set up on the table , ready to be presented.

“Mr. Parker, let’s begin,” Reed said, glancing at Peter’s submitted reports and schematics . “Explain your project in detail—motivation, function, and expected applications.”

Peter nodded and launched into his presentation. Peter dived into the technical details , discussing energy retention, conductivity optimization, and stability under extreme conditions . The conversation turned into a long back-and-forth discussion , with the panel pressing for clarifications and Peter holding his ground with confident, well-reasoned explanations .

After a rigorous Q&A session , the head of the panel finally spoke. “Thank you, Mr. Parker. We’ll announce the results in a few days. If selected, you’ll be expected to continue working on your prototype here at Baxter. If not, your project will be returned to you.”

Peter nodded, keeping his expression neutral despite the anticipation building inside him . “Understood.”

As he left the interview room, he exhaled deeply, his shoulders loosening slightly . It had gone well—he was sure of it. But whether it was good enough to make the cut? That was another story.

Back in his dorm, Peter leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

“Well, that happened,” he muttered.

“You performed exceptionally, sir. Your responses were thorough, and your prototype was well received.”

Peter smirked slightly. “You’re just saying that to boost my ego.”

“Incorrect. I do not deal in flattery—only facts.”

Peter chuckled, running a hand through his hair. But then his mind drifted to something else.

Or rather, someone else.

Susan Storm.

The way she had teased him , the soft laughter , the way she looked like pure perfection standing there —

Peter groaned. “I totally blew my first impression, didn’t I?”

“Given that she smiled and wished you luck, I do not believe she viewed the interaction negatively. However, if you continue replaying it in your head obsessively, you may develop an unhealthy attachment to the moment.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. Just… I wanted to make a good first impression, you know?”

“Sir, your intelligence will speak for itself. If she is to be impressed by anything, it will be your brilliance—not your ability to string together coherent sentences in her presence.”

Peter exhaled. “You know, sometimes, you really know what to say.”

“I am designed to be the perfect assistant, sir.”

Shaking his head with a small smile, Peter closed his eyes. Now, all that was left to do was wait.

For his results.

And maybe—just maybe—another encounter with Doctor Susan Storm .

Chapter Text

Peter sat in his dorm room, staring blankly at the wall. His fingers tapped idly against the desk, his mind lost in a whirlwind of thoughts that refused to settle.

Susan Storm.

The name alone irritated him. Not because of her—but because of himself. Because the moment he saw her, he acted like a complete idiot. He had practically gawked at her, let himself slip for just a second, and now? Now, she probably thought he was some perverted college kid.

He sighed, running a hand down his face.

What the hell was he doing?

It wasn’t just Susan. It was the fact that, for even a second, he let himself want something.

That was dangerous.

Peter knew better than anyone— the second you let someone into your life, the universe finds a way to take them away.

Aunt May.

Ned and MJ, whose futures were damaged because they were associated with him.

Tony—who trusted him, who left him EDITH, only for Peter to hand it over to the wrong person.

Stephen, who told him his problems existed because he refused to let go of his double life.

And all the villains who used his kindness and hesitation to hurt people.

It all pointed back to one common factor: himself.

“ SIR, YOU’RE OVERTHINKING AGAIN. ”

Peter exhaled, rolling his neck as ERIC’s voice filled the room. “Yeah? Well, what else is new?”

“ PERHAPS A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE WOULD HELP. YOU BELIEVE YOU ARE A CURSE, BUT IF THAT WERE TRUE, WHY WOULD MORGAN STARK LOVE YOU LIKE A BROTHER? WHY WOULD DAREDEVIL TRUST YOU? WHY WOULD YOU CONSTANTLY STRIVE TO HELP OTHERS? ”

Peter clenched his jaw. “That’s different.”

“ IS IT? OR DO YOU ONLY FOCUS ON THE BAD, IGNORING THE GOOD? ”

He huffed, shaking his head. “Not in the mood for therapy, ERIC.”

“ ACKNOWLEDGED. HOWEVER, IF YOU ARE THINKING ABOUT SUSAN STORM, YOU SHOULD NOT DISMISS THE POSSIBILITY OF GETTING TO KNOW HER. ”

Peter scoffed, leaning back. “Not happening.”

ERIC didn’t argue further.

Silence settled in the room.

Peter exhaled sharply and stood up. “I need to clear my head. Time for a workout.”

Avengers Compound – Gym

Peter arrived at the compound, slipping in unnoticed. The place was mostly empty, except for the sound of a TV and the unmistakable scent of beer.

Logan.

Sure enough, there he was—feet propped up, a beer in hand, watching some old Western movie. He glanced at Peter lazily, taking a swig of his drink. “Hey, kid.”

Peter gave him a nod. “Hey.”

Then, without another word, he headed straight for the gym.

The second Peter started, he went hard.

Calisthenics first—pull-ups, push-ups, core work. His muscles burned, but he pushed through.

Then came the punching bags.

These weren’t normal punching bags. They were designed for people with superhuman strength.

And yet, within minutes, Peter had torn through two of them.

Still, he kept going. His fists slammed into the next one, each hit harder than the last.

He could hear Aunt May’s screams.

He could see MJ and Ned looking at him, not knowing who he was.

He could hear Tony’s last words.

He could feel the weight of the world crushing down on him.

The final punch cracked like a gunshot— sending the bag flying into the wall, embedding itself deep into it.

Peter stood there, chest heaving, knuckles bleeding—healed within seconds.

“…Shit.”

He turned his head slightly.

Bucky Barnes was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

Peter rolled his shoulders, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Something you need, Tin Man?”

Bucky’s expression remained unreadable. “Wanna tell me what the hell that was about?”

Peter scoffed, shaking his head. “Nothing. Just… daily life problems.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes. “Yeah? Well, your ‘daily life problems’ just put a hole in the wall.”

Peter grabbed a towel, rubbing his hands. “Guess they should make stronger walls.”

Bucky exhaled through his nose but didn’t push further. Instead, he motioned toward the exit. “Come on. You need a drink.”

Peter hesitated. “Drinking with a 100-year-old war veteran huh? Sounds like a terrible idea.”

Bucky smirked. “Even better—I got Logan waiting.”

Peter chuckled dryly. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Peter leaned back in his seat, beer in hand, as Logan downed another bottle like it was water.

“You punch like a guy with a lot of issues, kid,” Logan remarked, lighting a cigar.

Peter snorted. “Thanks, old man. Really needed that insight.”

Bucky took a sip of his beer. “Look, I don’t know what the hell’s been eating at you, but… whatever it is, it’s clearly messing with you.”

Peter just shrugged. “I’m fine.”

Logan exhaled a puff of smoke. “You say that, but you look like someone who carries the weight of the goddamn world on his shoulders.”

Peter tapped the bottle against the table. If only they knew.

After a moment, he sighed, standing up. “I should go.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Already?”

“Yeah. Got college shit to do.”

Logan smirked. “Bullshit. You just don’t wanna admit you’re a lightweight.”

Peter smirked back. “Oh, please. I could drink both of you under the table.”

Bucky chuckled. “Yeah? Next time, we’ll put that to the test.”

Peter grabbed his jacket. “Looking forward to it.”

And with that, he walked out, heading back to ESU. Peter sat on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

ERIC’s voice filled the silence. “ YOU SEEM LESS TENSE. ”

Peter exhaled. “Yeah. Guess beating the shit out of things helps.”

“ AND TALKING. ”

Peter scoffed. “Right.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, but his mind drifted back to Susan.

He hated that.

He shouldn’t be thinking about her.

But he was.

And that scared him.

Peter let out a slow breath as he slipped on his mask, the familiar fabric stretching over his face. He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders.

A workout in the gym helped, but it wasn’t enough. The only thing that truly calmed his mind was swinging through the city, being Spider-Man.

With a leap, he shot a web and took off into the night. It’s a good thing that New York was never quiet, he thinks when would the city that never sleeps will finally experience a quite night and chuckles.

Within minutes , Peter had already stopped a couple of muggings, helped an old lady cross the street (yeah, he did that sometimes), and even pulled a drunk guy out of traffic.

The usual.

Then, as he perched on the edge of a building, scanning for more trouble, he heard a scream.

His body reacted before his mind did.

Launching off the ledge, he swung toward the sound, narrowing his eyes. The scream came from a dark alley.

His stomach twisted. He knew this scenario.

When he landed, the scene made his blood boil.

A girl—barely in her twenties—was backed against the wall, terrified. A man loomed over her, one hand pinning her wrist, the other trying to yank up her skirt.

Peter didn’t hesitate.

THWIP!

A web shot out, yanking the bastard off her and slamming him against the alley wall. Before the guy could even process what was happening, Peter descended on him like a goddamn nightmare.

A punch to the gut.

A web to the mouth to silence his screams.

Then another punch— harder.

“ You like cornering women in dark alleys, asshole? ” Peter hissed, slamming the guy into the concrete. The man struggled, but Peter’s grip was unbreakable.

He punched him again. Not enough to kill—just enough to make sure this bastard wouldn’t forget tonight.

By the time he was done, the guy was barely conscious, face swollen and bleeding.

Peter took a deep breath, steadying himself. Then, he turned to the girl. “You okay?”

She nodded shakily, eyes wide.

He offered her his hand. She hesitated before taking it, and he pulled her up gently.

“H-He just came out of nowhere—”

“You’re safe now,” Peter assured her. “Cops will handle the rest.”

He webbed the guy to the wall , leaving a message for the police before turning back to her.

“Need me to walk you home?”

She shook her head. “No, I—Thank you, Spider-Man. Really.”

He nodded. “Be safe.”

And with that, he swung away, leaving the alley in silence.

Back in His Dorm – The Email

Peter landed on his dorm balcony, stepping inside as he pulled off his mask. He was exhausted.

He tossed the mask onto his desk, exhaling. “Alright, ERIC, what’s up?”

“ YOU HAVE AN EMAIL FROM REED RICHARDS. ”

Peter paused. “Wait. Reed Richards? ”

“ AFFIRMATIVE. WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO READ IT? ”

Peter sat up, already opening his laptop. “No need. I got it.”

He clicked on the email, eyes scanning the screen.

From: Dr. Reed Richards

Subject: Internship Acceptance

Mr. Parker,

After reviewing your project submission and your performance during the interview, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into the Baxter Building internship program. Your work on the nano-fiber weave is fascinating, and I’d like to discuss it further with you in person.

You are to report to the Baxter Building in two days. Your university has been notified, and arrangements have been made to accommodate your schedule. Please review the attached details for your onboarding.

Regards,

Dr. Reed Richards

Peter blinked.

He read it again.

Then again.

Then, he smirked.

“Holy shit.”

“ CONGRATULATIONS, SIR. ”

Peter leaned back, running a hand through his hair. He actually got in.

For a second, all his stress, all his worries, everything that had been weighing on him—it all faded.

He glanced at the screen again, his eyes narrowing at one part.

Reed wanted to meet him personally.

Peter exhaled, rubbing his temples. It made sense. His project wasn’t exactly small.

He had submitted a lightweight nano-fiber weave, enhanced with a non-Newtonian polymer matrix.

In simple terms? It hardened on impact but remained flexible under normal movement.

It was highly durable and had potential applications in aerospace, military, sports, and hazardous environments.

Something a lot of industries would kill for.

And now, Reed Richards wanted to talk about it.

Peter huffed a small laugh. “Guess I did something right.”

ERIC’s voice chimed in. “ YOU ALSO GET TO MEET SUSAN STORM AGAIN. ”

Peter froze.

Then scowled. “Not necessarily.”

“ STATISTICALLY SPEAKING, IT IS HIGHLY LIKELY. SHE IS THE HEAD OF THE CHEMICAL AND BIOCHEMICAL DEPARTMENT, AND YOU WILL BE WORKING AT THE BAXTER BUILDING. ”

Peter exhaled sharply. “So? She’s way above my level. I’m just an intern.”

“ YET YOU WISH TO SEE HER AGAIN. ”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Shut up.”

“ DENIAL DETECTED. ”

Peter groaned, rubbing his face. “Not happening. Look, she’s… she’s Susan Storm. One of the most brilliant scientists in the world. And I’m just some kid from Queens who accidentally made a fool of himself in front of her.”

ERIC was silent for a moment.

Then, “ IF I MAY REMIND YOU—SHE LAUGHED AT YOUR ANTICS IN A POLITE AND GENUINE WAY. AND SHE CALLED YOU HANDSOME. ”

Peter froze.

His mind replayed the moment. The way she had giggled when he stuttered. The way she had called him handsome.

And before he could stop it— he blushed.

“…She did not.”

“ SHE DID. SHALL I REPLAY THE AUDIO? ”

Peter jumped up. “No, no, no! That’s enough, ERIC. We’re done here.”

“ UNDERSTOOD. HOWEVER, IT IS INTERESTING TO NOTE YOUR PULSE SPIKED JUST NOW. ”

Peter groaned, flopping onto his bed. “I fucking hate you.”

“ I EXIST TO SERVE. ”

He sighed, staring at the ceiling.

He wouldn’t let himself think about her.

Wouldn’t let himself hope.

But as much as he denied it, a small part of him wanted to see her again.

And that part scared him.

Chapter Text

Peter stood in front of the Baxter Building, staring up at the towering structure as the sun reflected off its pristine glass.

Even now, knowing he was actually going to work here, it still felt surreal.

Adjusting the strap of his backpack, he took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The moment he entered, a smooth, synthetic voice greeted him.

“Welcome, Peter Parker. I am Nathaniel, the Baxter Building’s artificial intelligence, designed by Dr. Reed Richards. I will be assisting you during your time here.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Nathaniel, huh? So, you’re the smart one running this place?”

“Correct. Please proceed to Lab 3. Dr. Richards is expecting you.”

A holographic arrow appeared, guiding him down the hallway.

Peter followed, marveling at the sheer futuristic design of the place. Glass walls, pristine white floors, state-of-the-art labs—it was like something straight out of a sci-fi movie.

Finally, he reached Lab 3.

Through the transparent doors, he spotted Reed Richards, hunched over a desk, deep in thought.

Peter knocked lightly. “Uh, Dr. Richards?”

Reed looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Ah, Peter. Come in.”

Peter stepped inside, and Reed immediately offered his hand.

“First of all, congratulations. Your project was outstanding.”

Peter shook his hand, feeling a little self-conscious. “Uh, thanks. I mean, I just—”

Reed cut him off, his voice full of genuine enthusiasm. “No, truly. I was very impressed. And so was the rest.”

Peter froze.

He hesitated. “…Rest? Who’s ‘the rest’?”

Reed gave a small smirk. “Follow me.”

They walked into another lab, and Peter immediately froze.

Because there she was.

Dr. Susan Storm.

Even in a lab coat, she looked effortlessly stunning. Blonde hair, radiant blue eyes, curves that could make a grown man weep.

And she wasn’t alone.

There were two other men with her.

One was a rugged, broad-shouldered guy with a strong jawline and buzzed hair. The other was a cocky-looking blonde with an easy smirk, his body language practically radiating confidence.

The cocky blonde was talking to Susan, and she looked… amused.

Peter’s stomach twisted as jealousy shot through him.

Of course. A woman like her? Someone like Susan Storm? She’d already have a guy.

He quickly suppressed the feeling. It wasn’t his place to care.

Still… that smirk on the guy’s face irritated him.

Reed led him forward. “Peter, let me introduce you.”

The broad-shouldered guy turned first, his expression friendly. “Ben Grimm.” He extended a hand. “Nice to meet ya, kid.”

Peter shook it. “Peter Parker. Uh, nice to meet you too, sir.”

Then the blonde guy turned to him, giving Peter a once-over, as if sizing him up.

Reed gestured. “And this is Johnny Storm.”

Peter stiffened.

Storm?

Then…

Oh.

Susan’s younger brother.

Peter internally sighed in relief.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “So, you’re the genius kid everyone’s talking about?”

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “Uh… I guess?”

Then, before Reed could introduce Susan, she suddenly laughed.

“Reed! I know him.”

Peter turned, startled, as Susan grinned at him.

“He was lost the day of the interview, and I had to give him directions.”

Reed looked mildly surprised, while Ben smirked.

And then—it happened.

Susan tilted her head and greeted him teasingly—

“Hey, handsome.”

Peter’s brain immediately short-circuited.

ERROR. SYSTEM FAILURE. REBOOT REQUIRED.

Reed raised an amused eyebrow, while Ben gave a small chuckle.

Johnny, however, did not look amused.

His easy smirk vanished, replaced with a slight scowl.

Peter’s face burned.

ERIC, help.

“SIR, RESPOND.”

Peter still couldn’t speak.

Susan laughed softly, noticing his reaction. “Oh, come on, don’t freeze on me now.”

Peter forced his brain to work. He cleared his throat. “Uh—hi. I mean, Dr. Storm. I mean—Susan?”

She grinned. “Susan’s fine.”

Reed finally decided to step in. “Susan was actually the one who begged me to speed up your acceptance process. She wanted you in her department.”

Peter blinked. “Wait—what?”

Susan nodded. “Your project? It’s brilliant. The material, the potential applications—you don’t even realize how groundbreaking it is.”

Peter swallowed. “I—I mean, I had some ideas, but…”

She crossed her arms, smiling. “Trust me. It’s incredible. And I wanted you working with me in my department.”

Peter’s brain malfunctioned again.

Susan Storm wanted him in her department? Wanted to work with him?

Meanwhile, Johnny still did not look happy.

Peter forced himself to focus. “T-Thank you. I mean, wow. That’s… a huge honor.”

Susan smirked. “Well, you earned it.”

Peter had no idea what to say to that.

Ben finally clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to the team, kid.”

Peter let out a small breath, still trying to process everything.

Reed then turned to Susan. “I’ll leave you two to discuss the details. I have some work to finish.”

Ben followed Reed, but Johnny hesitated before reluctantly following them, shooting Peter one last look.

Peter ignored him.

His focus was on Susan, who was still smiling at him.

“So,” she said, tilting her head, “ready to change the world?”

Peter finally found his voice.

He smirked. “Well, I was planning to start small. Maybe, you know, work my way up to it.”

She laughed. “Fair enough.”

And just like that, Peter knew—

This was going to be one hell of an internship.

Chapter Text

Peter sat at his new workstation, hands resting on the desk, his gaze locked onto the computer screen in front of him. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but his mind was completely elsewhere.

Across from him, Susan Storm was talking, her voice smooth and confident as she explained the laboratory’s protocols, research expectations, and what was expected of him as an intern.

He wasn’t listening.

Not because he didn’t care—but because he couldn’t focus.

Susan Storm was… something else entirely.

Even now, as she gestured toward a holographic projection of a molecular model, her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulder effortlessly, her body language radiating both intelligence and elegance. Her lab coat was fitted just enough to hint at her breathtaking figure, but it was her eyes that did the real damage—sharp and blue, filled with curiosity and amusement as she spoke to him.

And God help him—she smelled good. Some kind of soft vanilla and jasmine scent that made his brain glitch every time she moved too close.

Peter quickly looked back at his screen, forcing himself to stay professional.

“You need to stop acting like a lovesick idiot,” he scolded himself internally.

But it was hard.

“Are you even listening?” Susan suddenly asked, her arms crossing as she raised an eyebrow.

Shit.

Peter blinked, snapping out of his trance, and cleared his throat. “Yeah, of course,” he said quickly. “Uh, lab protocols, research expectations… uh, other important science-y things.”

Susan smirked, clearly not buying it. “Right,” she drawled, tapping her fingers on her arm. “So you definitely heard the part about workplace safety and proper chemical handling?”

“Obviously,” Peter deadpanned, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I’m not planning on setting the place on fire… yet.”

Susan rolled her eyes. “Fantastic. I feel so reassured.”

A snicker came from the other end of the lab. Johnny Storm, who had been sitting on a counter, watching their exchange, grinned. “Damn, Suzie. You’re already giving the guy a hard time? Give him a break, he just got here.”

“That’s what training is for, Johnny,” Susan replied, her tone exasperated. “Unlike you, I actually want my interns to know what they’re doing.”

“Interns?” Johnny snorted. “He’s just one guy, and he’s a genius, apparently. No need to grill him like a boot camp instructor.”

Peter watched as Johnny gave him a once-over, as if sizing him up. There was something about Johnny’s expression that told him he wasn’t thrilled about Susan’s apparent interest in Peter’s skills.

Or maybe it wasn’t about his skills.

Peter forced himself to stay indifferent. He was used to people sizing him up—whether it was Flash in high school, the Avengers when they first met him, or villains who underestimated him.

“Don’t worry about me,” Peter finally said, keeping his voice cool. “I can handle it.”

Susan gave him a slow once-over, tilting her head. “We’ll see about that.”

Peter exhaled through his nose, forcing himself to remain detached. He could not let himself get drawn in.

Not again.

It was better this way.

He couldn’t afford attachments—not to friends, not to classmates, and definitely not to Susan Storm.

His life was a curse.

Aunt May was dead because of him.

Ned and MJ had suffered because of him. Tony

had made the ultimate sacrifice because of his mistakes. Yeah he still blames himself even if it was the only future they were winning maybe if he would have gotten the gauntlet it would have been two and Tony wouldn’t have to sacrifice himself, leaving his daughter and wife and company behind, leaving him behind with technology and people wanting to scree him over as a legacy. His parents died in a plane crash, his uncle Ben, even happy was arrested and injured, hell Peter from the other universe got stabbed because of him. 

Ok now he has to pull himself back or he would start crying and breaking down again don’t need that infront of Susan or her brother. 

Every time he let someone in—every time he dared to care—they ended up hurt.

He had made a vow. No more attachments. No more risks.

So when Susan continued talking, Peter forced himself to respond in respectful, clipped answers. No jokes. No banter. Just work.

At first, Susan didn’t seem to mind, but as the day went on, Peter noticed the way her excitement dulled.

At one point, she asked him a question about molecular bonding structures, and he simply nodded, offering the shortest answer possible before returning to his work.

Her lips pressed together in disappointment, and for some reason, that hurt.

But it was necessary.

By the end of the day, Susan had gone from trying to engage him to simply observing him. Peter hated how much he noticed.

When she finally left the lab, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“You handled that well, sir,” ERIC finally spoke in his ear, his voice tinged with amusement.

Peter frowned. “Don’t start.”

“I’m simply stating the obvious,” ERIC said. “Doctor Storm clearly finds you interesting, and instead of allowing a perfectly good connection to form, you chose to act like a robot.”

Peter sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “You know why, ERIC.”

“I do,” ERIC admitted. “I just don’t agree with it.”

Peter shook his head, packing up his things for the day. “It’s not up for debate.”

“Understood, sir. But I must point out that Doctor Storm referred to you as ‘handsome’ more than once.”

Peter froze.

ERIC’s voice hummed. “Shall I play back the audio for you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Acknowledged. But you did blush, sir.”

Peter gritted his teeth. “ERIC—”

“It’s okay, sir. Denial is a powerful coping mechanism.”

Peter groaned, shutting off ERIC before he could say anything else.

With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand through his hair and made his way out of the lab. He had to be back early in the morning, and if today was anything to go by, it was going to be exhausting.

But no matter what…

He would keep his distance.

No matter how much he wanted otherwise.

Peter arrived at the lab early the next morning, as usual. The Baxter Building’s AI, Nathaniel, greeted him upon entry, its smooth voice echoing through the halls as it guided him to his workstation.

“Good morning, Peter Parker. Lab access granted.”

“Morning, Nate,” Peter muttered, stepping inside.

Susan was already there.

She sat at her desk, scrolling through data on a transparent holo-screen, her fingers flicking effortlessly across the display. Her blonde hair was neatly tied back today, but a few loose strands framed her face, and Peter—against his better judgment—noticed.

He took his seat across from her, logging into his system.

She didn’t say anything.

That was new.

Susan Storm always had something to say. Always had a teasing remark, a small observation, or at the very least, a greeting.

But today, nothing.

Not even a glance in his direction.

She was focused on her work, completely absorbed, her expression neutral.

It was… weird.

Peter wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

A part of him told him this was good. It meant his approach was working. He had been distant, professional, and short in his responses, and now Susan had visibly lessened her attempts at small talk.

That was the goal, right?

So why did a small part of him… miss it?

He shut that thought down immediately.

This was for the best.

He couldn’t afford to get close to her—or anyone, for that matter.

Still, when she finally spoke, he found himself snapping to attention almost too quickly.

“I have to clock out early today,” Susan said, finally glancing up at him. Her tone was casual, almost indifferent.

Peter gave a short nod. “Alright.”

She studied him for a moment, as if debating whether or not to add something. Then she gestured to his screen. “You can stay back and keep working if you want, or you can take the rest of the day off. It’s up to you.”

That was it. No teasing. No small talk.

Just straight to the point.

Peter hesitated.

For some reason, his mind flashed back to the previous day—how he had kept his answers curt, how he had barely acknowledged her attempts at conversation.

He had seen it, even if he pretended not to—the way her initial enthusiasm had gradually faded.

She wasn’t cold. She wasn’t rude.

She had just… adjusted.

To him.

And now, for the first time since arriving at the Baxter Building, he felt something unexpected—guilt.

He shifted in his chair. “Uh… thanks for letting me know.”

Susan nodded and stood up, gathering her things. “Try not to burn the place down,” she quipped, though the usual playful spark in her tone was noticeably muted.

“I’ll do my best,” Peter deadpanned.

She smirked slightly, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

And then she was gone.

Peter exhaled, slumping back in his chair, running a hand through his hair.

He had done the right thing.

So why did it feel… off?

Chapter Text

Peter sat on the edge of his bed, exhaling slowly as he stared at the ceiling of his dorm. His body was tired, but his mind wouldn’t shut up.

The day at the Baxter Building had been… strange.

Susan had visibly pulled back, and while that was what he wanted, there was still an unfamiliar, nagging feeling in the back of his head. He ignored it, convincing himself it was nothing.

Just as he was about to try and get some rest, ERIC’s voice chimed in his earpiece.

“Sir, I have detected Felicia Hardy in the vicinity.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. “Of course you have.”

“Would you like her location?”

Peter was already standing up. “You already know the answer.”

He suited up quickly, pulling on his Spider-Man mask and swinging out into the city. The cold night air rushed past him as he followed ERIC’s coordinates, making his way to the upper levels of a lavish hotel.

And there she was.

Felicia Hardy—Black Cat—perched on a rooftop ledge, staring down at a high-profile event below. She looked just as smug as always, clad in her skintight black suit, silver-white hair cascading down her back.

Peter landed silently behind her. “Are we really doing this again?”

Felicia didn’t even flinch. “Evening, Spider. You always catch me at the best moments.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Not sure ‘stalking a high-profile event’ qualifies as a great moment.”

Felicia sighed dramatically and turned to him, placing a hand on her hip. “Relax, bug. I’m not here to rob the place.”

He raised an eyebrow under his mask. “Right. Because you’re known for your restraint.”

She smirked. “Believe it or not, I have standards. I’m actually attending the event.”

Peter scoffed. “Yeah? Dressed like that?”

Felicia pouted. “Ouch. That hurts, Webhead. I thought you liked my outfit.”

Peter ignored that. “What are you really here for?”

Felicia studied him for a second before sighing. “Fine. I do need to steal something back. Something personal. The guy hosting the event has it, and I intend to retrieve it.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “And I’m supposed to just let that slide?”

Felicia grinned. “No. You’re supposed to accompany me.”

Peter blinked. “What?”

“I need a plus-one,” she said simply. “And let’s face it—you clean up nice.”

Peter debated with ERIC in his earpiece.

“Sir, logically, this is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“However, if you go with her, you can monitor the situation firsthand.”

“…And make sure she doesn’t pull anything reckless,” Peter finished.

Felicia tilted her head. “Well?”

Peter sighed before reaching up and pulling his mask off. “Peter,” he said, introducing himself properly.

Felicia’s smirk widened as she looked him over. “Mmm. Handsome and mysterious. You really are full of surprises, Peter.”

He shot her a glare. “No funny business.”

She pouted playfully. “I would never.”

Felicia then gestured at his Spider-Man suit. “Now, let’s get you something less… spandex-y.”

—

Thirty minutes later, Peter found himself standing in front of a mirror, adjusting the cuff of his freshly bought tuxedo.

The suit fit perfectly—almost too perfectly. It was tailored to his frame, emphasizing the sharp lines of his shoulders and the defined muscles underneath.

Felicia let out a low whistle. “Damn, Tiger. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you do this often.”

Peter tugged at his collar, rolling his eyes. “I feel ridiculous.”

Felicia leaned in with a sly grin. “You look delicious.”

Peter flushed and turned away. “Let’s just go.”

—

The event was extravagant—golden chandeliers, classical music, and people dressed in the finest attire money could buy.

Peter adjusted his tie, feeling slightly out of place.

Felicia, on the other hand, walked in with ease, her presence commanding attention. She was clad in a stunning black dress that hugged her body in all the right ways, drawing more than a few lingering stares.

Peter sighed. “This better not turn into a heist movie.”

Felicia smirked. “Relax, date—just enjoy the night.”

Then—

Peter froze.

Across the room, standing by the bar, was Susan Storm.

And she wasn’t alone.

She was interlocking arms with some guy—tall, dark-haired, and well-dressed. Her lips curled in an amused smile as she listened to whatever he was saying, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

Peter felt something tighten in his chest.

He clenched his jaw.

What was he doing?

Susan wasn’t his.

He had no right to be upset.

And yet…

Before he could get lost in that thought, Felicia smoothly approached the pair, tugging Peter along with her.

“Hello, darling,” she purred, addressing Susan with a knowing smile.

Susan blinked, surprised. “Felicia?”

Felicia turned to the man beside her. “And you must be…”

The man straightened. “Victor Von Doom,” he introduced. “King of Latveria. And the host of this event.”

Peter immediately stiffened.

Susan’s date was Victor Von Doom?

Felicia smirked. “Fascinating. This is my date, Peter Parker.”

Peter barely registered the words. He was too focused on Susan, who was now looking at him with mild surprise.

“Peter?” she echoed.

“Doctor Storm,” he greeted, keeping his tone professional.

Victor eyed him with thinly veiled curiosity. “You work with Susan?”

Peter nodded. “I’m an intern at the Baxter Building.”

Victor hummed. “Interesting.”

The conversation continued, but Peter barely paid attention.

His gaze flickered back to Susan—that dress. It was sinful.

And seeing her standing there, linked with another man—

He pushed the thought away.

It wasn’t his concern.

After a few minutes, Felicia excused herself, slipping away into the crowd.

Susan found him again shortly after.

“Peter,” she started.

He turned to her. “You look…” He hesitated before defaulting to, “Professional.”

Susan laughed lightly. “That’s one way to put it.”

Peter exhaled. “So. You and Doom?”

Susan sighed. “It’s not what you think. He’s interested in investing in the Baxter Corporation, and he also happens to be interested in me. But I don’t feel the same way.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me.”

Susan smirked. “It’s called slight manipulation. It’s harmless.”

Peter shook his head. “It’s risky.”

Susan tilted her head. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” Peter lied. “We’re just colleagues.”

Susan studied him for a moment before smiling. “Right.”

Felicia returned not long after, looping her arm around Peter’s. “We’re leaving,” she announced.

Peter glanced back just in time to see Susan stepping away from Victor—who now looked furious.

Felicia chuckled. “Guess someone got rejected.”

Peter didn’t respond.

Later, as they parted ways, Felicia teased him mercilessly.

“You got real tense when you saw her with another man,” she cooed.

Peter scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Felicia chuckled, leaning in. “You’re cute when you’re in denial.” “You know I can help with that spider , you me in penthouse in our throes of passion, you punishing me for being such a naughty kitty” she practically purred which caused Peter to blush and stammer “ Uh I- I don’t think it’s a good idea” 

“Aww why spider you can have your nasty way with me, I can tell you are really excited at the idea” she looked at his pants seductively

“Just… Jesus — don’t”

Peter shot her a look. “Just… keep my identity to yourself, alright? And maybe stop with the thieving?”

Felicia grinned. “No promises. How else are you going to give me some attention daddy”

With that, she blew him a playful kiss before disappearing into the night.

Peter groaned before swinging back to his dorm. “I swear she really enjoys this” 

“I can assure to that statement sir , would you like me to map the fastest route to your dorm”

”I know my way through it ERIC , I grew up here” 

Chapter Text

The cold night air rushed past him as Peter swung across the city, irritation still simmering under his skin. He wasn’t sure if it was because of Felicia’s teasing, Susan’s interaction with Doom, or the fact that his emotions were running wild tonight.

His HUD flickered, a blue notification popping up on his display.

INCOMING CALL FROM FRIDAY.

Peter narrowed his eyes. FRIDAY? That meant it was either Pepper or one of the Avengers.

“ERIC, put it through,” he muttered, launching himself off a rooftop and twisting mid-air before shooting another web.

A familiar voice filled his earpiece. “Spidey, we need you at the compound. Now.”

Rhodey.

Peter sighed. “What’s the matter WM , don’t tell you guys messed something up or any damned aliens are invading again I swear- .”

”Spidey it’s serious get here quick it’s another base of hydra, we need all available members” 

Peter sighed “Yeah, yeah, I’m on my way.”

He cut his swing and arced toward upstate New York, changing his route toward the Avengers Compound. 

Hydra. Germany. Another infiltration job. He had barely had a chance to sit down after the whole ordeal with Felicia and Susan, and now he was getting pulled into another operation.

And his mood was already not great.

ERIC, ever the efficient assistant, spoke up in his earpiece. “Sir, your college schedule will be adjusted accordingly. Would you like me to draft an email for Dr. Storm, notifying her of your absence?”

Peter clenched his jaw. “Yeah. Just say it’s a family emergency or something.”

A pause. “Sir, you do not have family—”

“I know, ERIC,” Peter muttered, cringing at his own words. “Just… send it.”

As he approached the Avengers Compound, Peter flipped mid-air and landed smoothly on the tarmac, his suit shifting into its standard red and blue. But as he approached the hangar, something inside him still burned with unresolved frustration.

Maybe it was the way Susan had smiled at Doom. Maybe it was Felicia’s taunting. Maybe it was the loneliness that never left him.

And then he made a decision.

“ERIC, activate the black suit.”

A dark, inky substance crawled over his body, shifting the bright red and blue into an obsidian black with an eerily reflective sheen. His lenses narrowed, glowing white, and his muscles tensed as the symbiote-linked suit settled over him.

It wasn’t Venom—not anymore. This was something else. Something Peter had reprogrammed and stabilized. No thoughts. No influence. Just raw, unfiltered power.

The moment he stepped into the hangar, the reaction was immediate.

Rhodey, standing in his War Machine armor, sighed heavily. “Damn it, Webhead, again with this suit?”

Sam, decked out in his Captain America uniform, crossed his arms. “You know that thing freaks people out, right?” “We don’t need this being a problem on top of hydra, we have ethics and morals we are not absentminded beasts” 

Peter just glared at him hissing angrily but it was enough to shut Sam up.

Bucky merely grunted, his vibranium arm whirring as he shifted his stance. Logan gave him a once-over, eyes narrowing. “You planning on going full psycho on this mission, kid?”

Peter rolled his shoulders. “Just in a mood.”

Yelena smirked, elbowing him in the ribs. “Ooh, is the spider sad? Did his girlfriend reject him?”

Peter’s hands clenched tightly, ERIC’s smooth voice soothed him “ Sir it is unwise to fight or harm your fellow teammates however annoying they seem to be, you will get your chance with hydra agents” 

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Yet,” she shot back with a wink.

Professor Hulk, hunched over a massive StarkTab, cleared his throat. “Alright, let’s get to business. Hydra base near Germany. We need infiltration, data extraction, and minimal destruction—”

Peter snorted. “Minimal destruction? Yeah, good luck with that.”

Hulk ignored him. “Teams: Spidey and Logan—south block. Sam and Bucky—west. Yelena and Rhodey—front entrance. Get in, get the files, and get out.”

Peter tapped his fingers against his forearm. “How much resistance are we expecting?”

Rhodey’s visor lifted. “It’s Hydra. What do you think?”

Peter sighed. Great.

—QUINJET EN ROUTE TO GERMANY—

The flight was silent, save for the occasional grunts from Logan sharpening his claws and Sam checking his shield. Peter sat in the corner, his fingers twitching against his thighs, the black suit making every movement feel sharper, heavier.

“Alright, Webs,” Logan finally muttered, cracking his knuckles. “You go in first, clear the way. I’ll handle the rest.”

Peter’s lenses narrowed. “Stay out of my way, old man.”

Logan huffed a laugh. “Big talk.”

The moment the jet landed, the team dispersed. Peter and Logan moved like shadows toward the south block. Peter perched on a ledge, scanning the area.

Multiple heat signatures detected.

Hydra soldiers.

Peter flexed his fingers, then dropped.

The first guard didn’t even have time to react before Peter’s fist caved in his chest, sending him crashing through a metal crate. Another tried to raise his weapon, but Peter ripped it out of his hands and crushed it like paper, his foot slamming into the man’s ribs.

Logan barely had to do anything.

Peter moved with brutal efficiency, the black suit amplifying his strength. He didn’t hold back. Every punch sent bodies flying. Every kick shattered bone.

And God, it felt good.

His fists blurred as he pummeled through Hydra grunts, sending them crashing into walls, desks, and steel beams. Some tried to run. He webbed them back, slamming them into the floor hard enough to leave cracks.

Even Logan—freaking Logan—paused for a moment, watching him in mild awe. “Damn, kid.”

Peter didn’t reply. He wasn’t done yet.

A massive soldier charged him from behind, a cybernetic gauntlet whirring with energy. Peter ducked under the punch, grabbed the guy by the neck, and slammed him through the floor.

The whole base shook. ‘BAAAAAMMM’

“what the hell was that?” Sam’s voice crackled over the comms. “ Ungh super soldiers are assholes” “Wasn’t me punk that is beyond my limitations I’m just an old man with a metal arm” 

“Webs is going crazy “ Logan muttered on comms.

Peter wiped his hands. “It was Nothing.”

Rhodey sighed “ I told you be discreet” “…..” Peter just walked forward.

Within minutes, the entire south block was cleared. Peter barely felt it. His hands trembled with adrenaline, his mind sharp.

And then he exhaled.

“ERIC, extract all data and send it to FRIDAY,” he muttered.

“Already done, sir.”

“Good. Any thing else y’all need, …. No, well Let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Still busy agh hmph” Wilson grunted. 

—BACK ON THE JET—

The silence was heavy.

Yelena raised an eyebrow. “So… what’s up with you?”

“Nothing.”

Sam gave him a look. “You sure? ‘Cause you just leveled an entire Hydra base like it personally insulted you.”

Bucky leaned forward, staring. “What’s eating you, Webs?”

Peter didn’t answer.

Rhodey shook his head. “I swear, the black suit makes you a bigger pain in the ass.”

Peter rolled his eyes, reclining against the seat. His mind was already drifting—back to the Baxter Building, back to her.

God, what the hell was wrong with him?

“ERIC, mute comms.”

“Yes, sir.”

Peter closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.

Tomorrow, he’d be back at Baxter. Back to being the cold, detached intern. Back to avoiding the one person he really wanted to be around.

And he hated every second of it.

Chapter Text

The moment Peter landed on the rooftop of his dorm, he let out a slow, shaky breath. His hands were still curled into fists, tension thrumming through his muscles. The black suit pulsed against his skin, like a living extension of himself, amplifying everything—the frustration, the exhaustion, the rage.

Too much.

“ERIC, deactivate,” he muttered.

The black tendrils of the suit slowly receded from his body, slithering away like retreating shadows. The sensation was almost reluctant, as if the suit had enjoyed its time out. Peter clenched his jaw and walked over to the small containment unit in the corner of his dorm. He pulled it open, revealing a reinforced canister lined with vibranium plating.

He pressed a button, and the last strands of the suit peeled off him, dripping into the canister like liquid ink. The moment the last drop was inside, the lid sealed shut with a hiss, the energy locks activating.

Contained. Safe. Away from him.

Peter exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the canister for a moment, his reflection barely visible in its glossy surface. The black suit had its uses, but every time he wore it, there was a part of him that liked it too much.

He shook his head, stripped out of his undersuit, and collapsed onto his bed.

Tomorrow was another day.

The Next Morning – Baxter Building

Peter had barely rubbed the sleep out of his eyes when ERIC’s voice chimed in his ear.

“Sir, it is time for you to head to the Baxter Building.”

Peter groaned. “Five more minutes.”

“I have already accounted for your procrastination. Five minutes are up.”

He cracked one eye open to see the digital clock glowing on his nightstand. Right on cue.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m up,” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed. He pulled on a simple black hoodie and jeans, ran a hand through his messy hair, and grabbed his backpack. As he stepped outside, ERIC’s voice hummed in his earpiece.

“Would you like me to draft an apology for Dr. Storm in case you arrive late?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “No, ERIC. I’m not late. And it was just one day.”

“Just covering all bases, sir.”

He swung through the city, letting the wind clear his thoughts before he arrived at the Baxter Building. As he stepped into the lab, something immediately felt off.

Susan’s workstation was occupied—but not by her.

Johnny Storm was lounging against her desk, tossing a small metal component in the air and catching it with lazy ease. His expression was one of pure boredom.

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Uh… where’s Dr. Storm?”

Johnny looked up, flashing a grin. “Hey, you’re back. Thought you were on leave.”

Peter shrugged. “Only for a day.” He motioned toward Susan’s workstation. “And you’re here because…?”

Johnny sighed dramatically. “Waiting for my dear sister to arrive.” He tossed the component again. “She’s late.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “And messing with her stuff is a productive use of time?”

Johnny smirked. “Hey, gotta keep myself entertained.”

Before Peter could reply, the lab doors slid open, and Susan Storm walked in.

Even in a simple white lab coat over a form-fitting blouse and pencil skirt, she still looked insanely gorgeous. Her golden hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling around her face. Her eyes landed on Peter, widening slightly in surprise.

“Peter? You’re back already?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… the leave was just for a day. It wasn’t really a major emergency.”

Susan tilted her head, studying him for a second, before nodding. “Well, good to have you back.”

Before she could ask anything else, Peter turned on his heel and pretended to be absorbed in his work.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Susan narrowing her gaze at Johnny.

“Johnny,” she said, her tone carrying the weight of an older sibling’s authority, “what are you doing at my workstation?”

Johnny grinned. “Waiting for you.”

Susan placed her hands on her hips. “And?”

“And,” Johnny continued, unfazed, “I may or may not have reorganized some of your equipment.”

Susan’s eyes narrowed. “What. Did. You. Do.”

Johnny laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Relax, sis. Just moved a few things around. Maybe swapped some labels—”

“Johnny!”

Susan immediately went into full damage-control mode, checking her workstation. Peter watched with mild amusement as Johnny dodged her attempts to swat him, finally making a hasty exit, grumbling under his breath.

As soon as the doors shut behind Johnny, Susan sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sometimes I wonder if I was cursed with him.”

Peter smirked. “Well, at least he keeps things interesting.”

Susan rolled her eyes but smiled. “That’s one way to put it.”

She turned back to her workstation, and as they both settled into work, she casually asked, “So… how do you know Felicia?”

Peter froze mid-typing.

His brain short-circuited for a second before he managed to stammer, “Uh—w-we go to the same college.”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “Really? She didn’t seem like the academic type.”

“She’s… full of surprises,” Peter said quickly. “She, uh, didn’t have a date, so she asked me to go with her. That’s all.”

Susan hummed, but didn’t press further. Instead, she leaned against her desk, arms crossed. 

“And what about Victor?”

Susan frowned. “Doom?”

He nodded. She sighed audibly “He wasn’t actually interested in Baxter Corporation or our research. He was more interested in… me.”

Peter’s jaw clenched. “Oh?”

Susan exhaled. “When I made it clear I wasn’t interested, he fumed, said he wouldn’t be investing in Baxter, and stormed off.”

Peter snorted. “What a jackass.”

Susan laughed. “Agreed.”

She leaned against the counter, twirling a pen between her fingers. “You know… sometimes it feels like people only see me as a pretty face or a ‘hot woman’ or just a trophy .They don’t see my work, my research, or my achievements.”

Peter’s expression softened. “ That’s not true Susan”. He knew that feeling all too well—being recognized for something superficial rather than what actually mattered.

He said firmly. “A lot of people admire your work. I admire your work.”

Susan’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh? So you don’t think I’m beautiful?”

Peter, without thinking, blurted out, “No, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

The second the words left his mouth, his brain screeched to a halt.

Susan’s eyebrows shot up in amusement.

Peter immediately stammered for a cover-up, his face heating. “I—I mean, in a totally professional way, of course! Like—uh—you know, objectively speaking, anyone would say—uh—”

Susan laughed—a light, genuine giggle that made Peter want to sink into the floor.

“Oh, Parker,” she teased, shaking her head. “That was adorable.”

Peter groaned. “I’m never speaking again. But ahmm — you’ve got brains and wit too, you’re amazing sue really”

Susan blushed “Thanks Mr smooth talker’ you’re quite charming when you’re not brooding “ she smirked. 

“Aww come on” Peter groaned “No more teasing, I was just stating truth trying to comfort you” 

Susan grinned but mercifully changed the subject, and they both got back to work.

Later – Peter’s Dorm

As Peter swung back to his dorm, ERIC’s voice chimed.

“Sir, you should work on stuttering less. Dr. Storm seemed to enjoy your compliment.”

Peter hissed. “Shut up, ERIC.”

“But sir—”

“Shut up.”

“Noted, sir.”

As he landed on his balcony, he exhaled heavily.

Susan Storm was going to be the death of him.

Chapter Text

Peter had barely landed in his dorm and collapsed onto his bed when ERIC’s voice chimed in his earpiece.

“Sir, an email just came through from Dr. Storm.”

Peter groaned, rolling onto his stomach and muffling his face in the pillow. “Please tell me it’s not about work. I just got back.”

“On the contrary, sir. The lab is closed tomorrow.

It appears to be a day off for all researchers at the Baxter Building.”

Peter perked up slightly, his head lifting from the pillow. “Wait, really? Just like that?”

“Yes, sir. The email states that due to ongoing maintenance in certain labs, all non-essential personnel are given the day off. You are, in fact, considered non-essential.”

Peter huffed. “Wow. Way to make a guy feel important, ERIC.”

“I only relay the facts, sir.”

A slow, satisfied grin spread across Peter’s face. A whole day off. No lab work, no patrol (for now), no dealing with super-genius colleagues or flirty cat burglars. Just a full day of peace and quiet.

He could finally relax.

Or so he thought.

“Sir, I must remind you that your college project deadline is approaching.”

Peter’s face immediately fell. His entire body tensed as if he had been hit by a truck. “Oh, come on. I just sat down.”

“Procrastination will not make it disappear, sir.”

Peter dramatically threw an arm over his face. “But it might make me disappear if I pretend hard enough.”

“I assure you, sir, that will not be the case. Shall I bring up the project specifications?”

Peter sighed heavily. “Fine. Bring them up.”

A holographic display materialized above his desk, listing the detailed requirements for his Mechanical Engineering Project. He had to design, develop, and present an innovative mechanical system or device, complete with blueprints, functionality analysis, feasibility reports, and a working prototype.

It had to be groundbreaking—something genius, something that would impress his professors… but nothing that would link him to Spider-Man, the Avengers, or anything remotely superhuman.

He couldn’t just submit one of his web-shooters.

He couldn’t use the nanotech upgrades he developed.

He couldn’t present any of his work on advanced suit mechanics.

It had to be something realistic, yet brilliant.

Peter exhaled, rubbing his temples. “Okay, ERIC, hit me with some ideas.”

“Certainly, sir. Here are a few potential projects based on your expertise and the available resources…”

Idea #1: A High-Efficiency Micro-Turbine Generator

ERIC: “A compact, high-efficiency turbine capable of harnessing wind energy in urban environments. It would be designed for rooftops, providing renewable energy in dense city landscapes.”

Peter hummed, tapping his fingers against his desk. “Not bad. But it would take too long to manufacture a functioning prototype. I’d need advanced materials, and the efficiency tests would be hell.”

“Understood. Next idea.”

Idea #2: A Self-Adjusting Exoskeleton for Rehabilitation

ERIC: “A lightweight, AI-assisted exoskeleton designed to aid in physical rehabilitation. It would use adaptive feedback to adjust resistance and motion assistance based on the user’s recovery progress.”

Peter paused, considering it. “That’s… actually really good. But it’s a bit too close to what Stark was working on for Rhodey. If anyone digs deep enough, they might make the connection.”

“Acknowledged, sir. Shall I proceed with another option?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, keep them coming.”

Idea #3: A Smart Material with Shape Memory

ERIC: “A polymer-based material that can ‘remember’ shapes and return to a pre-programmed form when exposed to certain stimuli, such as heat or electric current.”

Peter leaned back in his chair. “That’s interesting. Kinda like that liquid metal tech, but more practical. Could be used in everything from spacecraft insulation to medical stents. But how the hell do I prototype that in a week?”

“Difficult, but not impossible, sir. You do have access to advanced fabrication tools.”

Peter sighed. “True, but I need something a little simpler while still being impressive.”

“Then perhaps the following idea will be of interest.”

Idea #4: A Modular, Multi-Purpose Drone

ERIC: “A drone with an adaptable modular design. Different attachments could allow it to function as a surveillance drone, a rescue tool, or even a mobile repair assistant. The focus would be on versatility and accessibility—an all-in-one device that could be used for various tasks depending on the attachment equipped.”

Peter’s eyes lit up. “Now that’s an idea.”

He leaned forward, already running through the possibilities. “A small, adaptable drone that can be customized on the fly. Could be used by engineers, rescue teams, even disaster relief workers. Lightweight, durable, and easy to operate.”

ERIC: “Precisely, sir. You could incorporate your knowledge of aerodynamics, materials engineering, and robotics into the design.”

Peter was already sketching rough concepts on his tablet, his mind racing.

“Okay, first things first—we need a lightweight chassis. Carbon fiber? No, too expensive. Maybe a reinforced polymer?”

ERIC: “I suggest using a graphene-infused polymer blend, sir. Strong, flexible, and lightweight.”

Peter nodded. “Good call. Now, for propulsion—quadrotor or tilt-rotor?”

ERIC: “A tilt-rotor design would offer superior maneuverability and efficiency in tight spaces.”

Peter smirked. “Damn, you’re on fire today.”

“Always, sir.”

Over the next few hours, Peter and ERIC bounced ideas back and forth, refining every detail:

• Power source: Compact hydrogen fuel cells for long operational time.

• Navigation: AI-assisted flight with obstacle avoidance.

• Modularity: Magnetic attachment points for customizable tools—thermal cameras, robotic arms, even micro-welding torches.

• Control system: Smart interface with gesture and voice commands.

By the time they had finalized the core blueprints, Peter leaned back, stretching his arms. His fingers ached, and his brain felt fried, but there was a satisfied grin on his face.

“That… might be one of the best things I’ve worked on in a while.”

ERIC: “I believe this project will meet and exceed expectations, sir.”

Peter smirked. “You think it’ll impress my professors?”

ERIC: “Considering that your peers are still struggling with basic automation principles? Absolutely.”

Peter snorted. “Yeah, fair point.”

He stood up, rubbing his eyes. “Alright. Let’s call it a night. We’ll start fabricating the prototype tomorrow.”

“Understood, sir. But before you rest—”

Peter groaned. “What now?”

“Dr. Storm has sent a follow-up email, requesting confirmation that you received the day-off notice.”

Peter frowned. “Wait… she personally followed up?”

“It appears so, sir.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck. “Huh.”

“Shall I draft a response?”

He thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll just reply myself. Don’t want to seem like I have my own personal assistant.”

“You do, sir.”

Peter rolled his eyes, grabbing his phone and typing out a quick reply.

To: Dr. Susan Storm

Subject: Re: Day Off Notice

Hey, Dr. Storm. Got your email—thanks for the heads-up. Enjoy your day off.

– Peter

He hit send and exhaled, finally flopping onto his bed.

As his eyes drifted shut, ERIC chimed one last time.

“Sir, I must say, you and Dr. Storm seem to be developing quite the rapport.”

Peter groaned into his pillow.

“ERIC, I swear to God—shut up.”

The Next Day – Peter’s Dorm

Peter sat hunched over his worktable, eyes fixed on the nearly finished prototype of his modular drone. It had been hours of intense work, but he was making real progress. ERIC’s voice filled the dorm as the AI projected holographic schematics, highlighting adjustments Peter still needed to make.

“Sir, the current flight stability is at 86.3%. I suggest fine-tuning the rotor synchronization to compensate for high-speed turns.”

Peter adjusted a small servo motor, wiping some sweat from his brow. “I was already thinking that. Maybe tweak the gyroscopic stabilizers while we’re at it?”

“An excellent idea, sir. Would you also like to integrate the AI-assisted auto-correction?”

Peter smirked, tightening a micro-screw. “ERIC, you know me so well.”

“I strive for excellence, sir.”

Just as he was about to run another test, ERIC suddenly interrupted.

“Sir, Dr. Susan Storm is calling you.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Shall I accept the call?”

Peter quickly wiped his hands on his shirt, confused but curious. “Uh, yeah. Put her through.”

A second later, Susan’s voice came through his earpiece.

“Hey, Peter. Are you free today?”

Peter frowned slightly. “Uh… somewhat? Why, what’s up?”

“I was hoping you could come down to the Baxter Building. I need some help with a project, and I know it’s a day off, and they are so rare and most of the scientists aren’t here.”

Peter hesitated for a second. He had planned to finish his own project, but Susan sounded… stressed. And if she was reaching out to him, that meant she really needed help.

He sighed. “Alright, No problem Sue, I’ll be there.”

Susan let out a small, relieved laugh. “Thanks, Peter. I appreciate it.” She sounded happy , relieved. 

The call ended, and Peter leaned back, exhaling.

“ERIC, save our progress and shut everything down.”

“Understood, sir. Though I must say, you seem quite eager to assist Dr. Storm.”

Peter rolled his eyes as he pulled on his jacket. “Oh, don’t start, ERIC.”

“Just an observation, sir. Shall I also recommend a cologne? Perhaps one that subtly suggests—”

Peter groaned. “I’m shutting you down if you don’t stop.”

ERIC’s voice carried a distinctly amused tone. “Understood, sir. Carry on.”

Baxter Building – Susan’s Lab

When Peter arrived, Susan was already deep in her work. She had her hair tied up in a messy bun, loose strands framing her face. She was biting her lower lip in concentration, her fingers moving swiftly over a holographic interface displaying complex DNA sequences.

She looked exhausted.

But when she saw him, her expression brightened—only to turn slightly apologetic.

“Hey, you made it.”

Peter nodded, setting his bag down. “Yeah. Though I gotta say, I wasn’t expecting to do genetics today.”

Susan sighed. “Sorry for disturbing you on your day off. I just—none of the available scientists are qualified for this, and I remembered you have a background in biochemistry too.”

Peter waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help.”

ERIC, still deactivated, would have absolutely had something suggestive to say about that.

Peter stepped beside Susan, looking over her work. “So, what are we dealing with?”

She exhaled, pulling up a set of data charts. “We’re mapping a DNA sequence for an experimental cell regeneration process. The problem is that we’re getting too many mutations in the simulation. If we can’t stabilize it, it won’t be safe for human testing.”

Peter studied the data, his scientific brain kicking into high gear. “Okay… looks like the sequencing algorithm is introducing errors in the third replication phase. What if we tweak the nucleotide pairing mechanism?”

Susan blinked, impressed. “That… actually might work.”

Peter smirked. “What can I say? I’m a genius.”

Susan chuckled. “Don’t get cocky, Parker.”

For the next few hours, they worked closely together, testing hypotheses, fixing errors, and recalibrating the sequencing model.

Peter stole glances at Susan more than he wanted to admit.

Her intelligence was breathtaking. The way she analyzed data, connected dots, and problem-solved—it was almost hypnotic.

And then there was the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous.

But Peter forcibly reminded himself:

She would never be interested in someone like him.

And even if she was, getting close to her was a bad idea.

His life was dangerous.

His luck was horrible.

And if he got attached, something bad would happen.

But that didn’t stop him from staring.

And apparently, Susan noticed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught him watching her, more than once. She blushed slightly but said nothing.

She didn’t mind.

Break Time – Chinese Takeout

Nathaniel, reminded them to take a break.

Susan stretched, sighing. “Wow, it’s been hours. I’m starving. You want to get something to eat?”

Peter hesitated. “Uh… yeah, sure.”

Susan smiled. “Let’s get Chinese takeout. Nathaniel, place an order for us.”

As they waited, they continued discussing the project, refining their theories. But soon, the conversation shifted to their daily lives.

Susan leaned back, crossing her arms. “So, Peter… what do you do when you’re not being a genius?”

Peter smirked. “Oh, you know. Sleep. Build stuff. Maybe save the world in my free time.”

Susan chuckled. “I almost believe you.”

Peter forced a grin. If only she knew.

Soon, their food arrived, and they sat together, eating and talking.

Peter found himself really enjoying her company. She was smart, funny, and easy to talk to.

But a part of him felt guilty.

He was lying to her.

He couldn’t tell her he was Spider-Man.

He couldn’t tell her he was technically an Avenger.

He couldn’t even tell her about his own past.

For the first time in a long while, that really bothered him.

A Moment

After dinner, they went back to work. Hours passed, and finally, they had a breakthrough.

Susan lit up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Peter, we did it! The sequencing is stable!”

She was so happy that she—without thinking—hugged Peter tightly.

And then, in a rush of excitement, she kissed his cheek.

The moment froze.

Peter stiffened.

Susan pulled back abruptly, eyes wide. “Oh my God, I—”

Peter quickly recovered. “Hey, hey—it’s okay. Seriously.”

Susan’s face burned red. “I didn’t mean to—I was just excited—I—”

Peter chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, no worries. You were happy. I get it.”

She still looked flustered, but she nodded. “Okay… good.”

The atmosphere was suddenly charged, but neither of them acknowledged it.

Finally, Susan yawned. “It’s late. We should call it a night.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Good work today.”

Susan smiled. “You too, Parker.”

On the Way Home – ERIC’s Teasing

As Peter walked back to his dorm, he reactivated ERIC.

“Sir, I must say—what a performance.”

Peter groaned. “Oh, here we go…”

“Dr. Storm was quite taken with you. And that hug? That kiss on the cheek? My sensors detected a significant increase in her heart rate.”

Peter scowled. “She was just happy.”

“Denial is not a healthy coping mechanism, sir.”

Peter grumbled. “Not happening, ERIC. Drop it.”

“Very well, sir. But I will definitely bring this up again.”

Peter rolled his eyes.

His life just got a lot more complicated.

Chapter Text

Morning – Peter’s Dorm

Peter groaned, throwing an arm over his face as ERIC’s voice rang in his ear.

“Sir, wake up. It is time to resume work on your college project.”

Peter mumbled into his pillow. “You said that yesterday.”

“That was yesterday. Today is a new day.”

Peter sighed, forcing himself to sit up. His body still felt a little sore from last night’s crime-fighting spree, but he wasn’t about to let that slow him down. His college project wasn’t going to complete itself.

Dragging himself to his workstation, he flicked on his laptop, booted up his simulations, and got to work.

A few hours later, Peter arrived at the Baxter Building. He had planned to just head straight to his usual workstation, but Nathaniel intercepted him at the entrance.

“Hey, Parker. Dr. Richards wants to see you in his lab.”

Peter blinked. Reed? Requesting him? That was… unexpected.

With a slight hesitation, he made his way to Reed’s lab, where he found the scientist analyzing some complex data on a holographic screen.

“Dr. Richards?” Peter called out.

Reed turned, adjusting his glasses before offering Peter a small nod. “Ah, Parker. Good, you’re here.”

Peter stepped closer, hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. “So, uh… what’s up?”

Reed glanced at him before returning to his screen. “It’s been a month since your internship started.”

Peter tensed slightly. Was this his evaluation?

“Your performance has been outstanding. I’ve decided to extend your internship indefinitely.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, what?”

Reed nodded, still typing. “Doctor Storm has been quite impressed by your work. As am I.” He turned, giving Peter a considering look. “You and Susan made significant progress in her biochemistry project. The breakthrough you both found? Exceptional.”

Peter immediately turned red. “Oh—uh, well, that was—”

“Oh, sir,” ERIC chimed in his ear. “Your heartbeat has increased significantly. Would you like me to inform Doctor Storm of your overwhelming admiration for her?”

Peter clenched his jaw. “ERIC, shut up.”

Reed raised an eyebrow. “Everything alright?”

Peter coughed. “Yeah! Just, uh—just surprised, that’s all.”

Reed nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Good. Keep up the good work.”

Returning to the lab, Peter settled in beside Susan, who was already deep in her work.

She glanced at him as he set up his station. “Reed wanted to talk to you?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Told me my internship’s getting extended.”

Susan smiled. “That’s great! You deserve it.”

Peter shrugged, but a small part of him felt warm at the compliment.

The two worked side by side, continuing their research.

At times, Peter found himself stealing glances at her. The way she chewed her lip when concentrating. How strands of blonde hair framed her face as she leaned over her work.

And each time, Peter forcibly shoved those thoughts away.

No. Not happening. Not with her.

But damn if it wasn’t getting harder to ignore.

About an hour later, Johnny burst into the lab.

“Parker!” Johnny called, making both Peter and Susan look up.

Susan groaned. “Oh God, what do you want now?”

Johnny ignored her, grabbing Peter by the arm. “I need you for something.”

Peter frowned. “Uh, I’m kinda busy—”

Johnny didn’t listen and started dragging him away.

Susan smirked. “Good luck handling him, Parker.”

Peter shot her a deadpan look before grumbling under his breath.

Johnny led Peter to a separate engineering lab, where a half-assembled engine prototype sat on the table.

Peter folded his arms. “Alright. What’s this about?”

Johnny gestured at the engine. “This thing’s pissing me off. I need a second pair of hands.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “And out of everyone, you picked me?”

Johnny smirked. “Dude, you’re a mechanical engineer. You’ve got that nerdy genius vibe going on. Plus, you work fast.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

Activating ERIC, Peter started analyzing the structure.

Johnny’s eyes widened. “Hold up—you have your own AI?”

Peter shot him a look. “Yeah. Keep it quiet.”

Johnny grinned. “Dude, that’s sick.”

As they worked, they bickered. A lot.

Johnny: “You’re too careful with it, Parker. Just jam it in there.”

Peter: “That’s how things explode, you idiot.”

Peter: “No, Johnny, don’t—”

Johnny: (loud explosion sound) “…Oops.”

Peter: (facepalm)

Despite Peter’s reluctance to get close to anyone, he had to admit—Johnny was fun to be around.

By the time they finished, Johnny was impressed.

“You’re a freaking wizard, man,” Johnny said, wiping his hands.

Peter shrugged. “Just common sense.”

Johnny grinned. “Nah. You’re more than that.”

Peter didn’t respond. But for the first time, he didn’t mind the company.

Later that evening, Peter spotted Susan in the hall.

She raised an eyebrow. “So, how insufferable was my brother?”

Peter chuckled. “Meh. Could’ve been worse.”

Susan laughed, shaking her head. “Well, thanks for helping him.”

Peter nodded, but his heart did that stupid thing again when she smiled at him.

ERIC, in his ear, was not helping.

“Sir, your heart rate has increased. Again.”

Peter gritted his teeth. “ERIC, shut up.”

Susan tilted her head. “What?”

“Nothing! Uh—goodnight!”

Before he could embarrass himself further, he swung away.

Patrol – Encounter with Felicia

Changing into his nanotech suit, Peter hit the city, taking down a few criminals.

At one point, he perched on a rooftop, catching his breath—when he noticed a familiar figure sitting nearby.

Felicia Hardy.

“Well, well,” she purred. “Look who dropped in.”

Peter sighed. “What are you doing here, Felicia?”

She smirked. “Quiet night. Figured I’d tag along.”

Peter frowned. “You? Fighting crime?”

Felicia shrugged. “What can I say? Thought I’d try being good for once.”

The two patrolled together, taking down a few thugs.

Peter was surprised—she was actually helping.

But, of course, she never stopped being flirty.

Felicia: “You know, I think I like playing hero with you.”

Peter: “Yeah? Keep your hands out of people’s pockets and we’ll talk.”

Felicia: “No promises.”

After a while, Felicia stretched. “Well, that was fun. Until next time, Spider.”

She blew him a kiss before vanishing into the night.

Peter sighed. “I swear, that woman is gonna be the death of me.”

On his way home, Peter swung past a billboard.

“SPIDER-MENACE STRIKES AGAIN! THAT MENACE EAS SEEN HELPING OUT THE NOTORIOUS BLACK CAT , THERE IT IS FOLLS PROOF THAT SPIDER-MAN IS A CRIMINAL AND A MENACE AND SHOULD BE BEHIND THE BARS HIS MASK HANGED AND HIM PUNISHED RIGHTFULLY FOR HIS HENIOUS CRIMES! DAILY BUGLE REPORTING EVERYTHING, YOU CANNOT RUN CONTINUING YOUR SHENANIGANS BUG”

J. Jonah Jameson’s voice boomed from the speakers.

Peter groaned. “Oh, for fu—”

“Sir,” ERIC interrupted, “95% of the public disagrees with Jameson.”

Peter sighed. “Thanks, ERIC. But I swear his smear campaign is really never ending I sometimes want to hack into daily bugle servers and mess with him and post his private pictures online editing them as nudes”

” I believe that would not present a good case against Mr. Jameson’s claims of you being a menace Sir, although that would be hilarious on your part” 

“Yeah you’re right he isn’t worth it, he is an asshole, one day if he is in trouble and will beg I shall not save him , I promise” 

“Very Shakespeare Sir” ERIC mused.

“Also,” ERIC continued, “Doctor Storm seemed quite pleased with your help today.”

Peter groaned. 

Chapter Text

Morning – Peter’s Dorm

Peter groaned loudly, letting his head fall onto his desk as ERIC’s voice chimed in.

“Sir, your exams start today. You will be unable to visit the Baxter Building until they are over.”

Peter mumbled into the desk, “I hate this.”

“You have been aware of this schedule for weeks.”

“I still hate it.”

His workload at ESU was already annoying enough, and now he had to put everything at the Baxter Building on hold just to spend an entire week suffering through exams.

It wasn’t that the exams were hard. No, they were stupidly easy for him. But the process of sitting in a room for hours, answering questions he already knew the answers to, while his professors gave him judgmental looks? That was unbearable.

Peter sighed, sitting up and rubbing his face. “Alright, ERIC. Let’s just get this over with.”

Just as Peter was grabbing his things, his phone buzzed.

Susan Storm.

His stomach did a weird flip, but he ignored it and picked up. “Hey, Doctor Storm.”

Her light chuckle came through the line. “Oh, we’re back to ‘Doctor Storm’ now? And here I thought we were friends.”

Peter rolled his eyes but smiled despite himself. “Hey, Susan.”

“That’s better,” she teased. “Nathaniel told me you won’t be around for a few days?”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, ESU’s got me locked in for finals.”

Susan hummed. “And I take it you’re not thrilled about that?”

“That obvious?”

She laughed, and Peter swore his heart skipped a beat.

“You do have that whole ‘I’d rather be anywhere else’ energy.”

He chuckled. “Guilty.”

Susan’s voice was playful. “Well, try not to miss me too much.”

Peter froze, blinking. What.

She was teasing him.

A slow, loopy grin crept onto his face, and he leaned against the wall, suddenly feeling way too giddy.

Susan giggled. “Oh, you’re totally smiling right now, aren’t you?”

Peter immediately forced his expression neutral, clearing his throat. “No.”

“Liar.”

He groaned. “Susan.”

She laughed again. “Relax, Parker. I’ll see you after your exams. Good luck.”

The call ended, and Peter just stood there for a second, staring at his phone like an idiot.

Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Damn it.”

Peter flopped onto his bed.

“Sir,” ERIC’s voice came through, “your dopamine levels spiked significantly during your call with Doctor Storm.”

Peter covered his face with a pillow. “Shut up.”

“I believe you should consider pursuing her.”

Peter groaned. “ERIC. No.”

“She is clearly fond of you, sir.”

“ERIC.”

“Statistically speaking, relationships built on mutual respect and attraction have a high probability of—”

Peter threw the pillow across the room.

“No. Nope. Not happening. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Peter sighed, rubbing his temples. “Because.”

Because every time he let someone in, they got hurt. Because he wasn’t supposed to have things like this. Because he was Spider-Man.

ERIC was silent for a moment before responding. “Sir, I do not believe you are as undeserving of happiness as you think.”

Peter’s throat tightened, but he shook his head. “Drop it, ERIC.”

“Very well, sir.”

He exhaled. “Good. Now let’s focus on something else—like surviving these damn exams.”

Walking into ESU’s exam hall, Peter immediately felt the stares.

His professors, his fellow students—all of them threw him side-eyes as he entered.

Peter smirked internally. Let them stare.

His professors had zero patience for him at this point. He never attended classes, barely interacted with anyone, and now he had the perfect excuse—his internship at the Baxter Building.

And they hated it.

One of his professors, Dr. Allen, eyed him over the rim of his glasses as he handed Peter the exam paper.

“Nice of you to finally show up, Mr. Parker.”

Peter flashed a lazy smile. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Dr. Allen huffed. “We’ll see if your time at the Baxter Building actually taught you anything.”

Peter just grinned, taking his seat. Oh, they were gonna love this.

First up: Chemical Engineering.

The questions were insultingly simple.

He barely had to think—his hand moved on autopilot, answering equations, balancing reactions, and writing explanations faster than anyone else in the room.

By the time the other students were still on page three, Peter was already flipping to the last page.

He caught Dr. Allen staring at him.

Peter just smirked and kept writing.

Next: Mechanical Engineering.

If the ChemE exam was easy, this was just a joke.

The blueprints section? Done.

The thermodynamics calculations? Done.

The structural analysis? Done.

When Peter finished and stood up way earlier than everyone else, his professor, Dr. Rodriguez, narrowed his eyes.

“You’re done?” he asked skeptically.

Peter stretched. “Yep.”

Dr. Rodriguez scoffed. “If you think speed makes up for accuracy—”

Peter just handed him the paper. “Oh, I’m plenty accurate.”

As Peter walked out, he caught a few students whispering.

“Dude, how is Parker so fast?”

“Probably cheating.”

“He doesn’t even come to class! What the hell?”

Peter just smirked to himself.

By the end of the week, Peter had blown through every exam without breaking a sweat.

He could already see the frustration on his professors’ faces.

They couldn’t deny it—he was a damn genius.

And as much as they wanted to call him lazy or inattentive, he was still at the top of every single class.

Peter sat back in his chair, arms crossed, as he finished his final paper.

He looked up, catching Dr. Allen’s narrowed gaze.

Peter just grinned and slid his paper forward.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Professor.”

Dr. Allen just grumbled, snatching the paper away.

Walking out of the exam hall, Peter let out a huge sigh of relief.

Finally.

He pulled out his phone and texted Susan.

[Parker: Exams over. I survived.]

A few seconds later, she replied.

[Susan: Congratulations. I assume you didn’t struggle?]

[Parker: Not even a little.]

[Susan: Show-off.]

Peter grinned, shaking his head.

[Parker: See you soon, Doctor Storm.]

A moment later, her response came through.

[Susan: Can’t wait. ❤️]

Peter froze.

His brain short-circuited.

And then, very slowly, a stupid, goofy grin spread across his face.

ERIC’s voice cut in.

“Sir, you are grinning again.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his face. “Goddammit.”

Chapter Text

Midtown – Swinging into Chaos

Peter soared through the New York skyline, his web-shooters launching him forward as he flipped over buildings. He had just finished his exams and was supposed to head to the Baxter Building—but, of course, fate had other plans.

His HUD pinged an alert in his mask.

“Sir, I have detected heightened police activity on 45th Street. The perpetrator is identified as Abner Jenkins—code name: Beetle.”

Peter groaned. “Great. Just what I needed. A flying moron in a tin can.”

“ERIC, send Doctor Storm an email. Say I—uh—overslept and will be running a bit late.”

“Sir, might I suggest a better excuse?” ERIC quipped in his usual dry tone. “One that does not imply you are irresponsible?”

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fine. Say I got caught up with something. That vague enough for you?”

“Very much so, sir. Sending the email now.”

“Yeah, yeah” Peter sighed. “Make it sound like I’m super sorry.”

“Shall I add a frowny face for extra effect?”

Peter smirked. “You know what? Go for it.”

As ERIC sent the email, Peter dropped from the sky, angling toward the action.

Beetle was hovering above the street, his suit gleaming under the city lights. His reinforced wings buzzed, sending a gust of wind through the streets as police sirens wailed below.

Peter landed on a nearby lamppost, crossing his arms.

“Wow. A flying cockroach terrorizing the city? Where’s an exterminator when you need one?”

Beetle turned his glowing red visor toward him. “Spider-Man. Should’ve known you’d show up to ruin my fun.”

Peter tilted his head. “Fun? You call robbing an armored truck fun? Dude, get a hobby.”

With a roar, Beetle fired his arm-mounted plasma blasters.

Peter backflipped just in time, dodging the searing blasts. “Yeesh! You ever heard of a warning shot?!”

Beetle charged, his metal wings slicing through the air. Peter dodged midair, twisting and shooting a web at Beetle’s left wing. He yanked—hard—sending Beetle into a wild spin.

“Whoops! Careful there, buddy. Air traffic control is gonna be pissed!”

Beetle recovered quickly, stabilizing himself with a sharp thrust of his wings. “You think you’re funny, web-head?”

Peter landed on a building ledge. “Oh, I know I’m funny. The real question is—”

He flung himself forward, feet-first, slamming into Beetle’s chest.

“—do you think you’re tough enough?”

Beetle crashed into the side of a billboard, groaning.

Peter shot two webs at the nearby buildings and catapulted forward with immense force, aiming a punch straight at Beetle’s helmet.

But the villain tilted his head last second, and Peter’s fist skidded off the side, barely missing his visor.

Beetle retaliated, kneeing Peter in the gut and throwing him backward.

Peter flipped midair, landing on the roof of a taxi. “Ow. Rude.”

Beetle shot forward, his boosters flaring, and sent a plasma punch straight at Peter’s face.

Spider-Man ducked, twisting under the attack, and webbed Beetle’s thrusters, yanking them down.

Beetle’s flight system malfunctioned, sending him spiraling toward the ground.

Peter followed, spinning a web net midair, catching Beetle just before he could slam into the pavement.

The police swarmed in, guns drawn.

“He’s all yours, officers,” Peter quipped.

One of them gave him a knowing smirk. “You’re a real pain in the ass, Spidey.”

Peter grinned under his mask. “You love me.”

And with that, he swung away.

The moment Peter swung into his dorm room, he peeled off his mask, his chest rising and falling from exertion. His fight with Beetle had taken longer than expected, and he was sore all over. He had managed to subdue the armored mercenary with well-placed webbing and brute strength, but not before taking a few hits. His enhanced durability ensured he wasn’t badly injured, but he still felt the impact of the blows.

With a tired groan, he tapped his watch, commanding the nanites of his suit to retract back into it. His regular clothes materialized over his frame as he rubbed the exhaustion from his face.

Peter rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the fatigue as he grabbed his backpack and headed out.

Susan was already at her workstation, glancing up as he entered.

“You’re late,” she noted, arms crossed.

“Yeah, sorry about that. Got a little—distracted.”

Susan raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in a knowing smirk. “By what? Let me guess—overslept?”

Peter coughed into his fist. “Something like that.”

She chuckled. “You should invest in a better alarm clock, Parker.”

Peter shrugged, setting his bag down. “I’ll add that to my list of expensive gadgets I definitely can’t afford.”

“ Sent you an email.”

Susan smirked. “I saw. Cute frowny face, by the way.”

Peter groaned.

“You instructed me to include it, sir.”

Susan laughed, shaking her head. “You’re an idiot.”

As they worked, Peter felt himself relax.

Susan had an easy presence—sharp, intelligent, and just the right amount of sarcastic.

They bounced ideas off each other, exchanging quips between calculations and blueprints.

At one point, Susan leaned over his shoulder, pointing at his project. “Want some help with this?”

Peter, exhausted but grateful, sighed. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

As they worked together, Peter realized something. It was effortless.

He wasn’t overthinking. He wasn’t keeping his guard up.

He was just… enjoying it.

They were so engrossed that neither noticed when the door opened.

Johnny Storm walked in, pausing when he saw them.

Peter and Susan were intimately close, heads tilted toward each other, murmuring calculations under their breaths.

Johnny’s eyes narrowed.

With an exaggerated sigh, he stomped forward.

“What the hell is this?”

Peter and Susan jumped apart, both stammering.

“W-We were just—”

“—working!”

Johnny crossed his arms, looking between them. “Uh-huh.”

Peter cleared his throat. “Look, dude, I swear, it’s just—”

Johnny cut him off. “I don’t like you with my sister.”

Susan’s expression immediately soured.

“Johnny!” she snapped.

Johnny pointed at Peter. “I don’t trust him.”

Peter blinked. “Well, that’s just rude.”

Susan glared at Johnny. “Get out.”

Johnny scowled but backed off, muttering, “Not over yet, Parker.”

Susan, visibly annoyed, turned to Peter. “Sorry about that.”

Peter shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. I get it.”

An awkward silence settled between them.

Susan cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about him.”

Peter shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “No, I get it. Overprotective brother and all.”

“He doesn’t have to be it was nothing” Susan told him but his heart felt heavy. 

Susan sighed, then offered him a small smile. “Let’s just get back to work.”

Eventually, they just returned to their workstations, avoiding eye contact.

As the night wrapped up, Peter hesitated before leaving.

“Uh… goodnight, Susan.”

Susan smiled. “Goodnight, Peter.”

Something about the way she said his name made his chest tighten.

He quickly turned away before his brain could do something stupid.

Denial is a River in Egypt

As Peter swung through the city, ERIC’s voice chimed in.

“Sir, your heart rate increases significantly whenever you interact with Doctor Storm.”

Peter sighed. “ERIC. Not this again.”

“Your physiological responses suggest attraction.”

Peter groaned. “Drop it, dude.”

“She appears to reciprocate.”

Peter hesitated.

“…She does?”

“Analysis suggests mutual interest.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his face. “Doesn’t matter.”

“It does.”

Peter exhaled. “Look, I can’t. It’s complicated.”

“I do not believe it is as complicated as you make it.”

Peter gritted his teeth. “ERIC, enough.”

A pause.

“Understood, sir.But my primary function is your well being and it does involve your complicated relationships”

Peter sighed again. “Thanks, buddy but I got it.” 

Peter landed near a pizza shop, grabbing a large pepperoni pie before heading to his dorm.

As he collapsed onto his bed, he muttered, “Just another day in paradise.”

And yet…

His mind lingered on a certain blonde scientist—  to Susan—her laugh, her smile, the way she focused when she worked.

And, of course, the way Johnny had immediately assumed something was going on between them.

Peter sighed. He couldn’t let himself get close. Not now.

But as he fell asleep, his last thought was of Susan Storm.

Chapter Text

The streets of New York were lit up with festive lights, but Peter felt none of the warmth they were meant to bring. Christmas had never been an easy time for him. First Uncle Ben, then Aunt May—both gone during the holiday season, leaving nothing but painful memories and an ache that never fully faded.

Most people saw Christmas as a time of joy, laughter, and togetherness. Peter saw it as a cruel reminder of everything he had lost.

That’s why, as he swung through the city, he was colder, harsher. He wasn’t cracking jokes today. There was no playful banter, no smug remarks. Just silence.

And rage.

He activated the Venom augmentation on his suit, feeling the liquid nanites spread over him like a second skin. His usual red and blue was swallowed in black, his lenses narrowing into sharp slits as the darkness overtook him. He welcomed it.

Tonight, the city didn’t need the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. It needed something meaner.

Peter landed silently on the rooftop, his enhanced vision spotting a group of men cornering a young woman in an alley. She was clutching her purse to her chest, fear in her eyes as the tallest thug pulled out a knife.

“Just hand it over, lady. Don’t make this difficult,” the man sneered.

Peter dropped down without a word. No warning. No quips. Just impact.

The first guy didn’t even see him before Peter’s fist slammed into his ribs, sending him flying into the brick wall. The second barely had time to reach for his gun before Peter webbed it to the pavement and crushed it under his boot.

The third—knife guy—tried to slash at him.

Big mistake.

Peter caught his wrist, twisted it with brutal efficiency, and listened to the sickening snap as the man howled in pain. He flung him against the dumpster and webbed him there, ignoring his cries.

The woman was staring at him, shaken.

Peter turned to her, his voice devoid of warmth. “Go.”

She hesitated before nodding quickly, running away as Peter turned back to the criminals. He left them webbed up, their groans echoing in the alley as he swung away.

The second fight was at a convenience store in Queens. Three men in ski masks had stormed in, waving guns and shouting threats.

Peter didn’t waste time.

He crashed through the window like a missile, tackling one of them so hard the shelves collapsed under their weight. The other two turned their guns on him, but Peter was already moving.

A web shot to one guy’s wrist yanked him forward, straight into a vicious uppercut. He was out cold before he hit the floor.

The last one tried to run. Peter didn’t let him. He shot a web to his ankle and yanked him back, letting the man slam face-first into the counter.

The store owner looked at Peter with wide eyes.

Peter simply nodded and vanished into the night.

The final stop was a gang fight in Brooklyn.

Two rival groups were in a full-blown brawl, baseball bats, knives, and even a few pistols being brandished in the chaos.

Peter dropped into the middle of it like a predator among prey.

He moved like a ghost, dodging swings and countering with brutal efficiency. A man tried to stab him—Peter caught the blade midair and snapped it in half. Another swung a bat at his head—he ducked, elbowed the guy in the ribs, and webbed him to a car.

One of them shot at him. Peter sidestepped the bullets before webbing the guy’s arm to the pavement and slamming his head against the hood of a car.

Within minutes, it was over.

Peter stood in the center of the wreckage, breathing heavily, his fists clenched. The street was littered with groaning bodies.

For a moment, he felt nothing. Just the cold.

Then ERIC’s voice softly broke through his earpiece.

“Sir, would you like me to draft an email to Doctor Storm requesting leave from the Baxter Building?”

Peter blinked, exhaling sharply. He hadn’t realized how much rage he was holding.

“…Yeah. Do it.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Peter swung off into the night, ignoring the Christmas decorations below.

ERIC’s voice rang in his ear. “Doctor Storm is on her way to your dorm.”

Peter tensed. “What?”

“She is arriving shortly.”

Panic surged through him. He immediately discarded the Venom augmentation, shoving the canister away. His suit retracted beneath his clothes, and he hastily threw on a hoodie just as he heard a knock.

He schooled his expression before opening the door. “Doctor Storm?”

Susan stood there, arms crossed, her blue eyes scanning his room. She smirked. “Messy.”

Peter groaned, quickly tidying up. “Uh—sorry. Didn’t expect company.”

Susan sat down, watching him. “I came because I was worried.”

Peter hesitated. “Worried?”

“You took leave without much explanation. Reed wasn’t happy about it. I told him I’d handle it.”

Peter swallowed. “Thanks.”

Susan’s gaze softened. “What’s really going on, Peter?”

He exhaled. “Christmas is… hard for me. My aunt and uncle passed away around this time. It just—brings back a lot.”

Susan’s expression shifted. “I’m sorry.”

Before he could react, she hugged him.

Peter froze, then slowly melted into it.

It had been so long since someone had held him like this.

She pulled back slightly, her hands lingering on his arms. “If you need more time, I’ll talk to Reed.”

Peter shook his head. “I’ll be there tomorrow. I promise.”

Susan smiled. “You’re amazing, Peter.”

Peter, caught off guard, whispered, “So are you.”

Their eyes met, emotions swirling between them.

Then Susan abruptly looked away. “I should go.”

She hugged him one last time before leaving.

As Peter closed the door, ERIC chimed in, “Sir, you may want to acknowledge that Doctor Storm—”

Peter groaned. “Shut up, ERIC.”

But he was smiling.

Chapter Text

The Baxter Building’s research lab was alive with quiet energy as Reed Richards stood at the center of a holographic display, his fingers moving swiftly as he adjusted various equations on the floating interface. The walls were lined with high-tech monitors, each displaying complex quantum wave readings and real-time calculations that only a handful of minds in the world could even begin to comprehend.

Seated at the table were Susan Storm, Johnny Storm, Ben Grimm, and Peter Parker, all listening intently as Reed explained his latest discovery.

Reed pushed up his glasses, his professional demeanor unwavering even as excitement flickered in his eyes. “I managed to discover a… disturbance, for a lack of a better word. A disturbance born from shifting quantum waves through a phase-shift coordinator.”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “Disturbance?”

Reed nodded, his fingers continuing to work through data. “Through an accidental input into the spatial coordinates, I’ve discovered a method to essentially fold the fabric of time and space. A portal, if you will.”

Peter leaned forward, intrigued. “To where?”

Reed’s lips twitched, barely containing his enthusiasm. “Well… anywhere we like. I hypothesize that if we managed to record the spatial coordinates of the quantum fluctuations of another location and input it into the phase-shift coordinator, we would be able to direct the portal to any location on Earth.”

Susan folded her arms. “Continue, Reed.”

“Of course,” he said, adjusting the display. A new set of equations and diagrams appeared, showcasing a swirling mass of energy. “As I mentioned, by inputting certain spatial coordinates of quantum fluctuations, we’d be able to create a portal through the phase-shift coordinator. However, I began to wonder—what would happen if we changed the frequency of the quantum fluctuations while maintaining the same spatial coordinates?”

Ben scoffed, arms crossed. “Lemme guess. Somethin’ weird happened.”

Reed smirked. “You could say that.” He swiped across the display, bringing up several images. The hologram shifted, revealing a shimmering, swirling gateway—its colors pulsating between deep blues and eerie purples. “When I altered the frequency while keeping the spatial lock, the phase-shift coordinator registered something… beyond our plane of existence. A parallel dimension. If you check our report on page 63, you’ll see the images we captured.”

Johnny whistled. “So you’re telling me you accidentally built a gateway to another world? That’s metal.”

Peter frowned, his analytical mind already picking apart the implications. “A parallel dimension? Have you run tests to check if it’s stable? What about atmospheric differences? Radiation?”

Reed exhaled, his excitement dimming slightly. “I ran preliminary diagnostics, but that’s why I wanted all of you here. I believe we should explore it firsthand.”

Susan’s eyes widened. “Reed, are you serious? We don’t know what’s on the other side.”

“We didn’t know what was on the Moon, either, but we still went,” Reed countered.

Ben grumbled. “Yeah, but astronauts got protective suits, Reed. We ain’t exactly trained for this.”

Reed turned to Peter. “What do you think?”

Peter hesitated. His instincts screamed at him that this was a terrible idea, but at the same time, his scientific curiosity was just as strong. If this truly was another dimension, the knowledge they could gain would be invaluable.

“…We need more safeguards. Environmental scans, fail-safes, and a way to shut the portal down instantly if something goes wrong.”

Reed nodded. “Already accounted for.”

Susan sighed. “This is reckless. But if you’re doing it, I’m coming with you.”

Johnny grinned. “Hell yeah. Let’s go see some aliens.”

Ben groaned. “I hate all of you.”

With that, the decision was made.

The Experiment

The lab was prepped, and the phase-shift coordinator was activated. The swirling portal stabilized, humming with raw energy. Reed double-checked the readings before turning to the others.

“This is it. Everyone ready?”

Peter exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Let’s get this over with.”

As they stepped through, everything changed.

The Other Side

The world on the other side of the portal was… wrong.

The sky was a deep, endless purple, streaked with crackling white energy. The ground beneath them was not solid but an ever-shifting mass of glowing blue particles. Strange, floating monoliths hovered in the distance, their surfaces covered in unreadable symbols. The air was thick, vibrating with an energy that made Peter’s skin prickle.

“This is insane,” Johnny whispered.

Susan rubbed her arms. “I don’t like this.”

Reed was in pure awe, scanning everything with his tablet. “This energy… it’s unlike anything we’ve encountered before.”

Then, everything went wrong.

The ground trembled. The air became unbearably heavy. A pulse of blinding light exploded from the sky, striking all of them with an unfathomable force.

Peter screamed as his senses overloaded, his entire body convulsing as bio-electric energy surged through him like a violent storm.

Johnny caught fire—his entire body engulfed in flames as he howled in agony.

Susan collapsed, her form flickering in and out of visibility.

Reed’s body twisted and contorted like a melting figure, stretching unnaturally. His form transforming into spaghetti like wires with agonizing pain.

Ben’s screams were the worst—his skin hardening, cracking, transforming into something monstrous.Rocky skin covered him and his voice was deep and hoarse

Peter was the only one left conscious. Through sheer willpower, he forced himself to move. His hands sparked with golden electricity as he fought through the pain, reaching for Susan first, then Johnny, then Reed. Ben was too heavy to carry, so he had to drag him.

With a final, desperate effort, Peter slammed his fist into the control panel, forcing the portal to close behind them.

Peter worked frantically, hooking all of them up to the medical equipment. ERIC assisted, scanning their vitals, analyzing their altered DNA.

“Sir, their biological structures have undergone radical mutations. It appears they have been exposed to an unprecedented form of cosmic radiation.”

Peter wiped sweat from his brow. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Hours passed.

Then, one by one, they woke up.

Johnny sat up first. His body ignited instinctively, flames roaring to life. “Holy shit.”

Susan groaned, holding her head. When she tried to move, her body shimmered—turning invisible for a split second before stabilizing. “What… what is happening? Help”

Peter rushed to her helping her upright, “It’s alright sue just look at me follow my voice. There you go” as she finally turned visible again.

Reed’s limbs stretched unnaturally as he attempted to stand, his eyes wide in horror. “This… this isn’t possible.”

Then Ben woke up.

And he saw himself.

“No,” he whispered, staring at his massive, rock-like hands. “No. No, NO!”

He let out a guttural, heart-wrenching roar, slamming his fist into the metal table, denting it.

Reed, still in shock, murmured, “It was the cosmic fluctuations… they rewrote our DNA.”

”My life is gone it’s gone “ Ben was getting angry and depressed when Peter intervened “I do know what it’s like to wake up with powers.I can help you guys. ”

”What … wha— how how can you know Ben is and reed and my baby brother” Susan was beyond herself. 

Peter exhaled shakily. “I’m Spider-Man.” He leaped up and hung upside down for a minute before getting down. 

Their reactions were immediate.

Susan’s expression darkened. Reed looked devastated. Johnny was shocked. Ben? Ben just looked… betrayed.

“You’ve been lying to us this whole time,” Susan said coldly.

“I was trying to keep you safe,” Peter said desperately. “I never wanted this for you.”

Ben clenched his fists. “Safe? SAFE? LOOK AT ME!” He gestured at his monstrous form. “You’re still normal! I’m a freak! I—I CAN’T GO BACK TO BEIN’ HUMAN!”

Peter took a shaky breath. “You’re not freaks. None of you are.”

No one responded.

For the first time in a long time, Peter felt truly alone.

He turned to ERIC. “Run stability tests. Make sure their conditions aren’t deteriorating.”

ERIC acknowledged the command, but Peter barely heard it. His eyes were on Susan, who wouldn’t even look at him.

Chapter Text

The lab hummed with the sound of machinery, the occasional flicker of a holographic projection, and the constant clacking of fingers against keyboards. The day was slipping away in a blur of equations, genetic analysis, and molecular breakdowns. Peter and Reed barely moved from their stations, both utterly absorbed in their work.

Ben sat silently on the reinforced chair that Reed had made for him, his massive frame hunched over, arms crossed as he watched them tinker away. He didn’t say much. Didn’t need to.

Because after hours of research, of testing, of scanning, the result was always the same:

There was nothing they could do for him.

His body wasn’t just altered—it had fundamentally changed on a molecular level. There was no “off switch” like there was for the others. Reed had hypothesized dozens of possible solutions, including genetic therapy, targeted radiation reversal, and even advanced molecular reconstruction, but every theory they ran resulted in failure.

Ben Grimm was stuck like this.

Peter ran a frustrated hand through his hair, looking over at Reed, who had his head buried in his hands. Neither of them wanted to accept this, but facts were facts.

Ben sighed, his voice low. “Guess I’m the freak after all.”

Peter’s head snapped toward him. “No. You’re not a freak.”

Ben huffed out a humorless laugh. “Right. ‘Cause the walking pile of orange rocks totally blends in.”

“You’re not a freak, Ben,” Reed said, voice hoarse. “You’re still you.”

Ben didn’t answer. Just turned his head away.

Peter exhaled sharply and checked the time. Damn, we’ve been at this for hours. He leaned back, stretching before rubbing his face. His eyes flicked toward the upper level of the building, where Susan had disappeared hours ago.

He hesitated before glancing at ERIC’s holographic projection next to him. “…ERIC, where’s Susan?”

“Dr. Storm is in her quarters,” ERIC responded instantly. “She has not left since earlier.”

Peter sighed, rubbing his temple. Still mad at me. Figures.

“You should talk to her, sir,” ERIC suggested. “Ignoring the issue will not resolve it.”

Peter huffed. “Yeah, well, she won’t even look at me.”

Reed lifted his head slightly, giving Peter a knowing glance but saying nothing.

“You must try,” ERIC encouraged. “Dr. Storm is intelligent, but she is also emotional. She feels betrayed. If you wish to fix this, you must confront it.”

Peter frowned. “…You sound like May.”

“Your late aunt was a wise woman, sir.”

Peter sighed. He knew ERIC was right.

With a final glance at Reed and Ben, he pushed himself up from his seat. “I’ll be back.”

Ben grunted, still brooding. Reed gave him an approving nod before returning to the screen.

Peter made his way through the hallways, each step feeling heavier than the last. He had faced interdimensional monsters, alien warlords, and some of the worst criminals New York had to offer.

But facing an angry Susan Storm? That was terrifying.

He stopped in front of her door, hesitating for a second before knocking.

No response.

He sighed. “Susan, it’s me.”

Still nothing.

“…I know you don’t want to see me right now, but… please. Just let me explain.”

Silence.

Then, after a long pause, he heard a faint click as the door unlocked.

Taking a deep breath, Peter stepped inside.

——

Susan sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed, still refusing to look at him.

The room was dimly lit, a warm contrast to the cold tension between them. Peter stood near the door, feeling unusually nervous.

“…So,” he started awkwardly. “I’m guessing you’re still mad.”

She let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Oh, you think?”

Peter winced. “Yeah, fair.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Look, I never wanted to lie to you.”

Susan scoffed. “And yet, you did.”

Peter took a step closer. “I had to.”

That made her snap her head toward him, eyes sharp. “Had to?”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you. It wasn’t because I wanted to keep secrets. It was because it’s dangerous.”

Susan narrowed her eyes but didn’t interrupt.

Peter exhaled. “Do you know how many people have tried to kill me? How many times I’ve nearly died because I chose this life?” He clenched his fists. “Aunt May used to tell me that with great power comes great responsibility. And she was right. But you know what she didn’t say? That it’s exhausting. That it’s unfair. That it takes everything from you.”

Susan’s expression softened slightly.

“I didn’t tell you because the second you knew, you were at risk,” he admitted. “And I hated lying to you. But if I had to do it all over again? I’d still make the same choice, because I’d rather have you hate me than see you get hurt.”

Susan looked away, chewing her lip. She was quiet for a long time.

“…You’re an idiot,” she finally muttered.

Peter blinked. “Uh. What?”

She let out a small sigh before glancing at him again. “You didn’t have to do this alone, Peter. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Peter swallowed, caught off guard by how… soft her voice had become.

She shook her head. “I was angry. I still am angry. But…” She sighed. “I get it. I just—” She clenched her jaw. “I don’t want you to shut me out again.”

Peter hesitated. “I won’t,” he promised. “Not again.”

Susan searched his face, as if looking for any sign of dishonesty. When she found none, she exhaled slowly.

“…You’re still an idiot,” she muttered.

Peter smiled. “Yeah. Kinda my thing.”

For the first time since their fight, Susan let out a small, almost amused huff.

Peter relaxed.

A moment of silence passed between them. Then, suddenly, Susan’s expression softened further.

“…You know,” she murmured, “you’re kind of amazing.”

Peter blinked, heat rising to his face. “W-What?”

She smirked. “I mean, let’s be honest. A genius, a hero, and somehow still an awkward mess?”

Peter flushed. “Okay, now you’re just messing with me.”

Susan chuckled. “Maybe.”

Peter laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. But before he could say anything else, Susan suddenly stepped forward and—

Pulled him into a hug.

Peter stiffened in surprise, his brain short-circuiting for a moment before he finally relaxed, wrapping his arms around her tightly.

She smelled like vanilla and something distinctly her. It was… comforting.

He closed his eyes, just relieved that things were okay between them again.

Then, after a solid minute, he realized he was still holding her.

He quickly pulled back, clearing his throat. “Uh—sorry, I—”

Susan arched an eyebrow, smirking. “You enjoy that, Parker?”

Peter’s brain short-circuited again. “I—uh—wha—”

Susan chuckled, her smirk widening. But then, to his utter shock, she blushed slightly.

“…Maybe I did too,” she admitted softly.

Peter’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

He scrambled for words, completely flustered. “Uh—w-we should—lab—Reed—powers—yep—g-gotta—”

Susan giggled, rolling her eyes. “Relax, dork.”

Peter groaned, covering his face with his hands. Kill me now.

“Sir,” ERIC’s voice chimed in his earpiece, clearly amused. “It appears you have been successfully ‘teased.’”

Peter groaned louder. “ERIC, please.”

Susan just smiled.

The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the windows, casting warm light across the living room. The Baxter Building was unusually quiet, the absence of personnel making the space feel even larger.

Susan Storm walked in with a mug of coffee in hand, her blonde hair still slightly tousled from sleep. She had woken up early, planning to head straight to the lab with Reed and Ben, but Reed had stopped her.

“He stayed up all night,” Reed had told her over breakfast. “Even after I turned in, Peter kept working.”

Susan had paused, taken aback.

“He’s determined to help Ben,” Reed continued, sipping his coffee. “Even though they haven’t known each other long, Peter refuses to give up on him. That kind of dedication… it’s rare.”

Susan had felt something stir in her chest at those words.

Now, as she stepped into the living room, she saw him.

Peter was sprawled out on the couch, deep in sleep, still wearing his clothes from yesterday. His brow was slightly furrowed even in rest, like he was ready to wake up at a moment’s notice. A blanket was loosely draped over him, barely covering his torso.

Susan felt her lips tug into a soft smile.

He must’ve been exhausted.

She slowly approached, careful not to wake him. She reached out, gently adjusting the blanket so it covered him properly.

And then, without meaning to, she lingered.

Her eyes traced over his face—the sharp jawline, the faint stubble, the way his lips were slightly parted as he breathed evenly.

She swallowed.

Her gaze drifted lower, down to his chest, rising and falling in steady rhythm. The fabric of his shirt stretched slightly over well-defined muscles.

Susan felt warmth creep up her neck.

She had known Peter was fit, but seeing him so up close he was hot undeniably, those muscles and abs are something else, and he appears so unguarded right now. It wasn’t just his physique—though, God help her, that was definitely part of it—it was him.

His determination. His kindness. His sheer unwillingness to give up on people, even when they gave up on themselves.

She bit her lip.

Realizing she had been staring for far too long, she took a step back.

Before she could turn away, ERIC’s voice chimed softly from the speakers.

“Good morning, Dr. Storm.”

Susan nearly jumped out of her skin.

She cleared her throat, crossing her arms. “ERIC, don’t do that.”

“My apologies,” ERIC replied smoothly. “I merely wished to inform you that I have been monitoring Mr. Parker’s vitals. He is in deep sleep and requires more rest.”

Susan glanced back at Peter, still fast asleep. She exhaled.

“…Let him sleep a little longer,” she murmured, before walking toward the lab.

In the lab, Reed was already working, multiple screens projecting genetic sequences and molecular structures. Ben sat off to the side, quiet but watching with deep concentration.

Susan joined them, shaking off the strange warmth lingering in her chest. “Anything?”

Reed sighed. “We’ve tested every theory I can think of. No matter what we try, Ben’s transformation isn’t reversible.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, his rocky fingers clenching into a fist. “Figures.”

Susan’s chest ached for him.

She reached out, touching his shoulder. “We’ll keep trying, Ben.”

Ben let out a heavy sigh but nodded.

The three of them worked in silence, running test after test. But hours passed, and still, nothing.

It wasn’t until midday that Peter finally walked in, looking slightly disheveled but alert.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I overslept.”

Ben looked at him, then shook his head with a small, almost amused smirk. “You stayed up all night workin’ on this. ‘Bout time you got some damn sleep.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, you’re not mad?”

Ben sighed, his expression softening. “Listen, kid. I’ve been wallowing in self-pity, but… I see what you’re doing. You don’t owe me anything, but you’ve been bustin’ your ass trying to fix this anyway.”

Peter hesitated. “…I don’t like seeing people suffer if I can do something about it.”

Ben huffed. “Yeah, I noticed.”

A pause. Then, surprisingly, Ben’s lips quirked upward.

“…Guess there’s one upside to this mess,” he admitted. “Got a good friend out of it.”

Peter’s eyes widened slightly.

Then he grinned. “Yeah, well, you’re not so bad yourself, big guy.”

Ben chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t push it, Parker.”

Susan, watching the exchange, felt warmth flood her chest.

She had always admired Peter’s intelligence. But seeing his heart—his refusal to let people feel alone—was something else entirely.

She realized she was smiling.

God, she thought, he really is amazing.

The breakthrough came later that afternoon.

Peter and Reed had been bouncing ideas back and forth, their conversation turning into rapid-fire exchanges filled with scientific jargon.

Then, suddenly, Peter’s eyes lit up.

“Wait. Wait.”

Reed glanced at him. “What?”

Peter practically bolted toward the 3D model on the holographic display. “We’ve been looking at this wrong. Instead of reversing Ben’s mutation, why don’t we work with it?”

Reed’s brows furrowed. “Explain.”

Peter pulled up a diagram. “What if we used unstable molecules? A synthetic fabric that can adapt to his form, adjust to his abilities?”

Reed’s eyes widened slightly. “…That could work.”

Susan stepped closer, intrigued. “You mean a material that responds to his body’s unique structure?”

Peter nodded eagerly. “Exactly! It wouldn’t change him, but it could help him. Like… a uniform. One that hides the rocky skin except for his face.”

Ben crossed his arms, skeptical but interested. “And you think you can actually make this?”

Peter smirked. “Big guy, I know I can.”

With Reed’s help, Peter spent the next few hours designing the prototype. Using his own work on his Spider-Man suits and Reed’s knowledge of molecular physics, they fabricated a test sample.

When it was finally done, Ben hesitated before taking it.

He stared at the fabric in his hands, running his rocky fingers over it.

Then, slowly, he tried it on.

As soon as the material settled against his skin, it shifted, adapting to his form. The rocky texture of his body vanished beneath it, leaving only his face exposed.

Ben looked down at himself. For the first time since the accident… he almost looked normal.

His throat bobbed.

“…It ain’t a cure,” he murmured. “But damn… it’s something.”

Peter smiled. “It’s a start.”

Ben exhaled before nodding. “Thanks, kid.”

Susan, watching everything unfold, felt her admiration for Peter grow tenfold.

Without thinking, she blurted out, “We should file a patent.”

Reed and Peter both turned to her in surprise.

Susan smirked. “The unstable molecules. It’s your creation, Peter. It should be patented under your name—and Reed’s, since you both worked on it.”

Reed nodded in approval. “That’s a great idea.”

Peter blinked. “Wait. You’re serious?”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Peter hesitated before a slow smile spread across his face.

“…My first official patent with the Baxter Corporation.”

Ben clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him over. “Not bad, kid.”

Johnny, who had been watching from the doorway, smirked. “Guess you’re officially one of us now, Parker.”

Peter chuckled, shaking his head. “Guess so.”

ERIC’s voice chimed in. “Congratulations, sir. I believe this is a momentous achievement.”

Peter exhaled, a sense of fulfillment settling in his chest.

Chapter Text

The evening sky stretched endlessly above the city, hues of deep blue and orange blending together as the sun slowly dipped beyond the horizon. The air was crisp but not uncomfortably cold, a gentle breeze rolling through the balcony of the Baxter Building.

Peter leaned against the railing, taking in the breathtaking skyline of New York City. Despite everything that had happened this week—the chaos, the tension, the endless hours in the lab—this moment felt… peaceful.

He heard soft footsteps behind him.

“You’re not thinking about jumping, are you?”

Peter turned his head to see Susan approaching, a teasing smirk playing on her lips. She was holding two mugs of something warm, steam curling into the cool air.

He scoffed. “Please, if I wanted to jump, I’d at least do a flip on the way down.”

Susan chuckled as she handed him one of the mugs. “Hot cocoa,” she said. “Reed swears by coffee, but I think this does a better job at helping you unwind.”

Peter took the mug, smiling softly. “Thanks.”

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, sipping their drinks and watching the city below. The sounds of traffic, distant sirens, and the occasional gust of wind filled the air.

After a while, Susan spoke. “You know… you really surprised me this week.”

Peter glanced at her. “How so?”

She turned to him fully, leaning her back against the railing. “I knew you were smart. I mean, Reed wouldn’t have let you near our labs if you weren’t. But… you also care so much. About people, about doing the right thing. Even when it’s not your responsibility.”

Peter looked down at his mug, swirling the liquid inside. “It’s just… I’ve lost too many people, Susan. People I should’ve been able to save. If I can do something—anything—to help, then I have to.”

Susan studied him for a moment. There was a depth to him that she hadn’t fully grasped before. Beneath the sarcasm and the brilliant mind, there was a young man carrying more weight than anyone his age should.

She smiled softly. “That’s an admirable way to live, Peter.”

He met her gaze, and for a second, they just looked at each other. The city’s lights reflected in her blue eyes, making them almost glow. Her blonde hair was tousled by the breeze, a few strands falling across her face.

She was stunning.

Peter swallowed, tearing his eyes away.

Susan smirked. “You keep staring at me.”

Peter nearly choked on his cocoa. “W-what? No, I wasn’t!”

Susan raised an eyebrow, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Oh, you totally were.”

“Sir, she is correct. You have been caught approximately seven times in the past twenty minutes.”

Peter clenched his jaw. ERIC.

He gritted his teeth and whispered under his breath, “I swear to God, ERIC, I’m ripping out your hard drive.”

Susan laughed, her melodic chuckle filling the balcony. “Your AI rats you out? That’s hilarious.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

She nudged his arm lightly. “Relax, Parker. I’ll take it as a compliment.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck, feeling his ears burn. “I—it was a compliment. I mean, not that I was staring—I mean, okay, maybe a little, but not in a creepy way! You’re just—”

Susan grinned. “Digging yourself deeper.”

He groaned. “Just end me now.”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re kind of cute when you’re flustered.”

Peter nearly short-circuited.

He quickly changed the subject, clearing his throat. “S-so, uh, dinner? What’s the plan?”

Susan let him have that one. “Pizza. Johnny insisted.”

Peter exhaled in relief. “Oh, thank God. You have no idea how much I need greasy, cheesy, artery-clogging food right now.”

Susan laughed again, and they both headed back inside.

——

The dining area was lively, the table cluttered with pizza boxes, drinks, and half-finished plates.

Johnny, as expected, was in the middle of a dramatic retelling of a completely exaggerated event.

“…And then I swooped in, full flame on, right before the truck exploded! Saved, like, five people.”

Ben snorted. “You mean the time you barely got them out before you face-planted into a fire hydrant?”

Johnny scowled. “That part’s not important and cut me some slack I’m not a pro at heroing this is my first rodeo”

”Johnny we should be careful with these powers we have still not fully tested them” Susan chided. 

“Relax sis” Johnny grunted “Don’t be a buzkill.”

Peter smirked. “So what I’m hearing is, you fumbled the hero moment.”

Johnny pointed at him. “Alright, Spider-Boy, let’s hear your big Avenger story.”

Peter leaned back, taking a sip of his soda. “I dunno, man. Kinda feels like bragging.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. You’ve fought alongside Thor, Captain America, and—” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Black Widow.”

Peter sighed, knowing where this was going. “No, Johnny.”

Johnny smirked. “You sure? I mean, she is—”

“Johnny.”

Susan shot her brother a look, and Johnny immediately shut up.

Ben chuckled. “I’ll never get tired of watching her do that.”

Reed, ever the scientist, leaned forward. “But seriously, Peter, what was it like? Fighting in those battles?”

Peter tapped his fingers against his plate. “Exhausting. Terrifying. But also… incredible.” He met Reed’s gaze. “I was just a kid from Queens. Then suddenly, I’m in space, fighting aliens, watching gods throw lightning.”

Reed’s eyes sparkled with interest. “Did you meet Stark?”

Peter’s grip tightened on his drink for a moment before he forced a small smile. “Yeah. I did.”

There was a pause. Everyone at the table knew about Tony Stark’s sacrifice.

Susan, sitting beside him, nudged his leg under the table. A silent comfort.

Peter glanced at her, giving her a grateful smile.

Johnny, oblivious to the moment, snapped his fingers, summoning a small flame in his palm. “Alright, Parker, let’s talk about important things. Like how you managed to bag an internship here while also being a superhero.”

Peter smirked. “I’m just that good.”

Johnny rolled his eyes and flicked the flame toward him, making Peter swat it away.

“Really?” Peter deadpanned.

Johnny grinned. “What? You’re Spider-Man. You’ll be fine.”

Peter hummed in thought before smirking. “Alright, Matchsticks, keep talking.”

Johnny blinked. “…Matchsticks?”

Ben grinned. Susan sighed. Reed chuckled.

Johnny groaned. “Oh, come on.”

Peter leaned back, arms crossed. “Yeah. That one’s sticking.”

Johnny grumbled, shoving another slice of pizza in his mouth.

Later, as the night wound down, Ben stood by the window, staring out into the city.

Peter walked up beside him. “You alright, big guy?”

Ben sighed. “I dunno, kid. It’s a lot to take in.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah.” He glanced at him. “But you’re not alone, Ben. We’re gonna figure this out.”

Ben exhaled slowly. “I appreciate it, Parker.”

Peter nudged him. “That’s what friends do.”

Ben huffed but smiled. “Yeah, yeah.”

Susan, watching from the table, felt warmth spread through her chest.

This past week had been hard. But right now, sitting here, sharing this moment—

She was happy.

And she had a feeling Peter Parker had a lot to do with that.

Chapter Text

The morning sunlight streamed through the windows of the Baxter Building, casting long shadows over the sleek, futuristic labs. The building was quieter than usual, as most of the employees were still enjoying their extended weekend.

Peter, sitting cross-legged on one of the workbenches, tossed a small wrench in the air before catching it. “So,” he said, looking over at Ben, who was sitting in a reinforced chair made specifically for him. “You still feel like a prisoner in your own home, or are we making progress?”

Ben grumbled, arms crossed over his massive chest. “I dunno, kid. Feels like every time I step outside, people are gonna freak out.”

Peter nodded, kicking his legs slightly. “Yeah, people are really bad at handling change. But that doesn’t mean you should hide forever.”

Reed, who was busy analyzing data on one of the large monitors, chimed in. “Peter’s right, Ben. You need space to move around, but we also can’t risk unnecessary attention right now.”

Johnny, lounging in a chair with his feet propped up on the table, snapped his fingers, creating small bursts of flame at his fingertips. “Why not just use the lower levels? We’ve got space down there. No one goes there unless Reed makes them.”

Peter smirked. “Yeah, we can turn it into your own personal man-cave. Maybe put in a TV, some weights. Y’know, enriching activities.”

Ben scoffed. “Great. My own underground dungeon.”

Susan, leaning against the table, smiled. “It’s not ideal, but it gives you a place to stretch out without worrying about people staring.”

Peter nodded. “Exactly. We’ll even make sure all employees clear out before you roam around.”

Ben exhaled through his nose, mulling it over. “Fine. But if it sucks, I’m blaming you, Parker.”

Peter grinned. “I’ll take that risk.”

Before they could continue the discussion, ERIC’s voice chimed in Peter’s ear.

“Sir, you have received an urgent request from Director Nick Fury. Captain Sam Wilson has reported that S.H.I.E.L.D. detected an unusual disturbance at the Baxter Building a few days ago and wants Spider-Man to investigate and report his findings.”

Peter immediately realized what Fury was referring to—the accident that gave them their powers. His eyes flickered to Reed and Susan, who had also heard ERIC’s message.

Susan’s expression tensed slightly, while Reed frowned.

“That’s not good,” Johnny muttered, losing his playful demeanor.

Peter turned to Reed. “Don’t worry. I won’t spill the beans. I’ll just tell them there was some weird experimenting going on and that I don’t know much. I’ll even throw in some top-tier sass to keep Fury off our backs.”

Susan giggled. “You messing with Fury? Oh, I have to see that.”

Reed, ever serious, nodded. “Please do. The last thing we need is S.H.I.E.L.D. breathing down our necks while we figure this out.”

Peter clapped his hands together. “Alright, then. Time for me to go annoy a secret agent.” He turned to Susan. “Wanna walk me out?”

Susan smiled. “Sure.”

As they left the lab, walking side by side, Susan glanced at him. “So, do you always make a habit of irritating government officials?”

Peter smirked. “It’s kind of my brand. Keeps them on their toes.”

She chuckled. “Fury’s gonna hate you.”

“Already does,” Peter quipped.

As they reached the exit, Susan nudged him. “Be careful, okay?”

Peter nodded. “Of course. I have too much to live for.”

She arched a brow. “Like?”

Peter hesitated for just a second before smirking. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Susan rolled her eyes but laughed. “Go. Before you make me regret trusting you.”

Peter grinned, gave a mock salute, and then shot a web, swinging away toward the Helicarrier.

The S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier hovered over the Atlantic, a floating fortress of steel and firepower. Peter landed gracefully on the deck, immediately surrounded by armed agents.

“Relax, guys,” Peter said, raising his hands. “I was invited.”

One of the agents gave him a skeptical look before and huffed. “Follow me.”

”Wow, talk about the hero welcome” Peter grinned under his mask seeing the irritated look sent towards him.

After a long walk through the sterile metal hallways, Peter was led into a large briefing room, where Nick Fury stood waiting, arms crossed.

Fury narrowed his one good eye at him. “Spider-Man.”

Peter tilted his head. “Patchy.”

Fury sighed. “I already regret this.”

Peter shrugged. “So, what’s this about? You guys picking up weird energy signals from the Baxter Building? Some strange disturbance?”

Fury studied him. “You sound like you already know something.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Look, I swing around that place all the time. I saw some experimenting going on, but I didn’t stick around for details. It’s Reed Richards, man. The guy is always doing something science-y and weird. Maybe a power surge, maybe a dimensional anomaly, who knows? The dude probably sneezes out quantum fluctuations.”

Fury squinted at him. “You’re being annoying on purpose.”

Peter gave finger guns. “It’s a gift.”

Fury sighed heavily before gesturing toward a woman sitting at the table. “Spider-Man, meet Dr. Darcy Lewis.”

Peter turned and—wow.

Darcy Lewis was… well, stacked. She had long, wavy brown hair, bright blue eyes, and a pair of glasses perched on her nose. She was dressed in casual but professional attire, but it was impossible to ignore the way her assets strained against her shirt.

Still, Peter focused on her face because he was not a degenerate.

Darcy, noticing his unwavering eye contact, smirked. “Wow. A guy who actually looks me in the eyes. That’s a first.”

Peter blinked. “Uh… should I be proud or worried for humanity?”

Darcy laughed. “Bit of both.”

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dr. Lewis is an astrophysicist and expert on extraterrestrial phenomena. Since Jane Foster is off in space with Thor, Darcy has been loaned to S.H.I.E.L.D. to oversee a new project—S.A.B.E.R.”

Peter nodded. “Catchy acronym. What’s it stand for?”

Darcy waved a hand. “Some government nonsense about ‘Strategic Aerospace Blah Blah Blah.’ Basically, we keep an eye on space stuff and stop it from killing us.”

Peter hummed. “Neat.”

Darcy smirked. “You know, I’ve always had a thing for Spider-Man.”

Peter coughed. “Oh.”

She leaned in slightly. “You single?”

Peter, thinking of Susan, hesitated. “Uh… it’s complicated.”

Darcy pouted. “Damn. Well, if you ever become uncomplicated, call me. You can do whatever you want with me.” She winked.

Peter short-circuited.

“You leaving so soon, Spidey?” she teased, brushing a hand lightly against his arm as they walked through the corridor.

Peter swallowed. “Uh… yeah. Places to be. Buildings to swing from.”

Darcy smirked. “Shame. I was hoping to get to know you better.”

Peter forced himself to focus on walking instead of how soft her touch had been. “I, uh, appreciate the enthusiasm, but I’m kinda—”

“Complicated. Yeah, yeah, I heard.” Darcy nudged him with her hip, her blue eyes gleaming with amusement. “But no harm in a little fun, right?”

Peter felt something stir inside him as he stole a glance at her. God, she was gorgeous. And the way she looked at him—like she wanted him—was doing things to his brain that he really didn’t need right now.

Fury sighed. “Dr. Lewis, please stop flirting with the superhero.” She pouted.

Peter, flustered beyond reason, cleared his throat. “W-well, uh, it was nice meeting you, Dr. Lewis, but I should probably—”

ERIC’s voice chimed in his ear, “Sir, Reed Richards requires your assistance immediately.”

Peter pointed at the ceiling. “Oh Lordy would you look at the time I have been just reminded that I have to be somewhere , you know Work calls. Gotta go.Earn the bread hehe”

Fury waved him off. “Get lost.”

Darcy winked. “See ya, Spidey.”

Peter practically fled the room, webbing his way off the Helicarrier.

As he swung back toward the Baxter Building, he groaned.

“ERIC, remind me to avoid Darcy Lewis unless absolutely necessary.”

“Noted, sir.”

Peter sighed. Today was weird.

Peter landed smoothly on the rooftop of the Baxter Building, his mind still reeling from his encounter with Darcy Lewis. He shook off the lingering heat in his system and exhaled. Focus, Parker. No distractions.

As he made his way down to the labs, he spotted Susan Storm standing outside, scrolling through her tablet with an expression of mild frustration.

“Hey,” Peter greeted, walking up to her. “What’s going on? Reed called me in for something.”

Susan looked up, her face relaxing slightly at the sight of him. “Yeah, it’s… not great. Someone stole our data.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “What? What data?”

“The portal research,” Susan sighed. “Reed was going over our security logs and found traces of an intrusion. He thinks someone accessed the system remotely and took everything related to the portal experiment before the system shut itself down.”

Peter clenched his jaw. “Great. So we have a hacker.”

She nodded. “Reed’s been trying to track them down, but no luck so far. He figured you might be able to help.”

Peter gestured toward the lab. “Alright, let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

They entered the lab, where Reed was hunched over his computer, typing furiously while multiple windows of encrypted data flickered across the screen. His usually calm expression was replaced with one of deep frustration.

Reed glanced up and, upon seeing Peter, exhaled in relief. “Peter, thank god. Someone’s stolen our portal data, and I’ve been trying to trace the breach, but every lead gets wiped clean before I can follow it.”

Peter cracked his knuckles. “Alright, let me take a look.”

He pulled up a chair, activating ERIC through his suit. “ERIC, analyze the system for any residual data trails. See if you can pinpoint a pattern in the intruder’s movements.”

“Understood, sir. Engaging deep-level analysis.”

Reed leaned over Peter’s shoulder, watching intently. “I tried that, but whoever did this covered their tracks well.”

Peter’s eyes flicked across the screen, fingers flying over the keyboard. “They might’ve, but everyone leaves some kind of trail. It’s just a matter of finding the right entry point.”

ERIC processed the data, running calculations at lightning speed. After several minutes, a faint signature popped up on the screen.

“Sir, I have detected a backdoor entry used by the hacker. It follows an erratic pattern, but I can trace the origin.”

Reed’s eyes widened. “That’s more than I got. Where does it lead?”

Peter and ERIC worked together, tracking multiple pings that bounced across different locations—first in Europe, then Asia, before finally landing on a distinct, singular origin.

“Final location detected: Latveria.”

Peter and Reed exchanged glances.

“Doom,” they both said at the same time.

Susan tensed. “Are we sure it’s him?”

Reed ran a hand through his hair. “No one else in Latveria has the resources to pull this off. And right before the system crashed? It’s too much of a coincidence.”

Peter leaned back, rubbing his chin. “So Doom stole the data and then wiped the system to cover his tracks.”

Susan crossed her arms. “But why? What does he want with portal technology?”

Reed shook his head. “That’s what we don’t know. And without proof, we can’t exactly accuse him.”

Peter sighed. “And we definitely can’t go to the government about this, because then we’d have to explain how we got our powers.”

Susan rubbed her temples. “Which means we’d be subject to the Accords and government oversight. Yeah, no thanks.”

Reed nodded. “So our only option is to keep an eye on Doom and try to figure out what he’s planning.”

Peter cracked his neck. “I’ll have ERIC discreetly link to government satellites and monitor Latveria for any unusual activity.”

“Affirmative, sir. Establishing low-profile surveillance on Latverian digital and satellite networks.”

Reed let out a deep breath. “Alright. We’ll rebuild the system, but for now, we should continue with our normal work and pretend nothing happened.”

Peter clapped his hands. “Sounds like a plan.”

Reed left the lab, heading off to work on another project, while Johnny and Ben exited as well, talking about setting up Ben’s new living space.

That left just Peter and Susan.

Susan leaned against the table, watching him with a soft smile. “Well, that was a stressful couple of hours.”

Peter chuckled. “Tell me about it.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence before Susan tilted her head at him. “By the way, how long has it been since you’ve actually gone home?”

Peter scratched the back of his head. “Uh… what day is it?”

Susan smirked. “Exactly.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, I guess I could use a break.”

Susan shook her head, amused. “You definitely need a break. You’ve been working nonstop these past few days.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “You have too.”

Susan blinked. A faint blush dusted her cheeks. “I… I’ll be fine.”

Peter smirked. “You sure? I think you deserve a break just as much as I do.”

Susan looked away for a moment before clearing her throat. “Well, someone has to keep things running while you’re off being Spider-Man.”

Peter grinned. “Okay, but if I take the rest of the day off, I want confirmation that you’ll take a break too at some point.”

Susan chuckled. “Fine. I’ll consider it.”

Peter stretched. “Good enough for me.” He gave her a two-finger salute. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

Susan smiled warmly. “Take care, Peter.”

He gave her one last grin before stepping out onto the balcony and leaping into the air.

As he swung back toward his dorm, he exhaled deeply, finally allowing himself to relax.

Today had been a lot.

But at least, for the next two days, he could finally breathe.

Chapter Text

Peter was wrapped in the most peaceful sleep he’d had in weeks, sprawled out on his small dorm bed, a rare moment where he didn’t have to worry about deadlines, supervillains, or impending doom. He wasn’t dreaming of anything in particular—just blissful, undisturbed nothingness.

Until—

“Sir, I regret to inform you that your day off has been cut short.”

Peter groaned and pulled the blanket over his head. “No. No, ERIC. We talked about this. No superhero business today.”

“Rhino is rampaging through Times Square.”

“… I hate my life.”

Peter sat up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes before glaring at the ceiling. “Can’t someone else handle it?”

“The NYPD and SWAT are attempting to contain him, but as per usual, they are proving ineffective against a seven-hundred-pound rampaging criminal.”

Peter sighed deeply, pushing himself off the bed. “Fine, fine. But I’m putting ‘vacation’ on my to-do list. Right after ‘stop mad scientists’ and ‘prevent an interdimensional disaster.’”

“Duly noted, sir.”

Peter suited up, the nanofibers of his suit wrapping around him as he cracked his neck and opened his window.

“Alright, let’s go make sure the city doesn’t become a giant pancake.”

With that, he leaped out, swinging toward Times Square.

The moment Peter landed, he was met with absolute chaos. Cars were overturned, storefronts shattered, civilians running in every direction as Rhino—massive, armored, and built like a tank—charged through the streets, tossing vehicles aside like they were made of paper.

“Oh good,” Peter quipped, landing on a lamppost. “I was worried my morning wouldn’t include violence.”

Rhino turned, his thick helmet-like mask glinting in the sunlight. “SPIDER!”

Peter sighed. “Wow. You’ve got some real strong ‘hating-me’ energy today. Did I forget your birthday?”

Rhino roared and lunged forward, his brute strength sending concrete flying. Peter leaped off the lamppost just as it was crushed under Rhino’s charge.

Swinging in a wide arc, Peter shot two webs at Rhino’s back and yanked. “Hey, big guy, maybe you should try yoga! Loosen up those muscles!”

Rhino barely budged. Instead, he grabbed the webs and yanked Peter forward, flinging him toward a parked bus.

“Wuh-oh—”

Peter braced himself, flipping midair and landing just before impact, skidding back slightly.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” Peter said, shaking off the jolt. “That was kinda impressive.”

Rhino snorted. “I crush you like bug.”

Peter sighed. “Creative as always, pal.”

Just as Rhino charged again, an arrow whizzed past, striking the ground at his feet before exploding into a flash of purple energy, throwing him back slightly.

Peter turned his head to see a figure standing on top of a traffic light.

Kate Bishop.

The new Hawkeye.

“Hey Spidey,” she called down, drawing another arrow. “Figured you could use some backup.”

Peter grinned under his mask. “Well, if it isn’t the second-best archer in the city.”

Kate scoffed. “Excuse you. First best.”

Before Peter could retort, Rhino roared and threw a car straight at them.

“Alright, less talking, more not-dying,” Peter muttered, shooting a web at the car and slinging it sideways before it could hit anything.

Kate let loose another explosive arrow, blasting Rhino back into a delivery truck.

Peter took the opening, webbing Rhino’s legs together. “Let’s see if we can keep him down this time!”

Rhino growled, trying to break free. Kate followed up with a taser arrow, sending electricity surging through his suit.

He let out a pained roar before finally slumping forward, unconscious.

Peter let out a breath. “Well. That was exhausting.”

The NYPD and SWAT rushed in, securing Rhino while Kate hopped down next to Peter.

She smirked. “Not bad, Webs.”

Peter placed a hand over his heart. “A compliment? From the great Kate Bishop? I might cry.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Please don’t.”

Peter chuckled and gave her a fist bump. “Good work out there. Take care katniss.”

“Same to you, Spider-Man,” she replied.

With that, Peter webbed up and swung off, finally heading back to his dorm.

As Peter landed on the roof of his dorm, he was surprised to see Susan Storm standing there, arms crossed, waiting for him.

He blinked. “Susan?”

She smiled. “Took you long enough.”

Peter frowned, confused. “What are you doing here?”

Susan shrugged. “I figured you could use some company. Besides, you did say you were taking the day off.”

Peter chuckled, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, well… Rhino had other plans.”

Susan smirked. “I saw. You and Hawkeye make a good team.”

Peter shook his head. “Don’t inflate her ego any more than it already is.”

Susan laughed before looking at him curiously. “So… what do you usually do for fun when you’re not fighting crime or working in the lab?”

Peter thought for a moment, then grinned. “Wanna go for a swing?”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “You mean swinging through the city?”

“Yeah.”

She hesitated. “I don’t know… I mean, it looks kinda dangerous.”

Peter smirked. “Trust me. You’ll be fine.”

Susan considered before nodding. “Alright. But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

Peter wrapped an arm around her waist and shot a web. “Fair deal.”

As they swung off, Susan turned invisible, ensuring no one saw her.

At first, she was tense, gripping onto him tightly.

But as they moved, soaring between skyscrapers, gliding effortlessly through the air, she started to laugh.

“This is incredible!” she shouted.

Peter grinned. “Told you!”

After several exhilarating swings, Peter finally landed back on the dorm roof, his suit retracting while Susan became visible again.

She was beaming. “That was so much fun.”

Peter chuckled. “Glad you liked it.”

Susan nudged him. “Alright, your turn. Take me somewhere for lunch.”

Peter smirked. “Pizza?”

She laughed. “Sounds perfect.”

They walked to a nearby pizza place, grabbing a booth and ordering a large pepperoni.

As they ate, Susan gave him a teasing look. “So… is this a date?”

Peter choked on his soda.

Susan laughed as he sputtered. “Relax, Parker. I’m just messing with you.”

Peter coughed. “Oh, yeah, totally knew that.”

She leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “You’re kinda cute when you’re flustered.”

Peter cleared his throat. “So anyway—how’s the lab?”

Susan smirked but let him change the subject. They spent the afternoon talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company.

Finally, as they stood outside, Susan smiled. “I had a great time today.”

Peter nodded. “Me too.”

She stepped forward and gave him a quick hug.

As she pulled back, she winked. “See you tomorrow, Parker.”

Peter watched her walk off, scratching his head before muttering, “I am so screwed.”

The next morning, Peter stepped into the Baxter Building, feeling surprisingly well-rested for once. Between beating up Rhino, spending time with Susan, and having an actual night’s sleep, things were… strangely normal.

That was new.

As he made his way to the lab, ERIC chimed in through his earpiece.

“Sir, I must say, you are unusually energetic this morning. Did you consume an abnormal amount of caffeine, or has the presence of a certain blonde scientist affected your serotonin levels?”

Peter sighed. “ERIC, I swear, if you start psychoanalyzing me—”

“I would never, sir,” ERIC said, the absolute definition of sarcasm. “That would require me to ignore the copious amounts of evidence supporting the theory that you are, indeed, smitten.”

Peter rubbed his temples. “I hate you.”

“A lie, sir. Your biometrics indicate amusement.”

Peter grumbled. “You’re lucky I can’t mute you without looking suspicious.”

“And you are lucky I am a benevolent AI, sir. Otherwise, I would display a live feed of your increased heart rate the moment you see Doctor Storm.”

Peter froze.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, in fact, consider it an act of charity—to assist you in recognizing your feelings.”

“ERIC, I swear to—”

The doors hissed open, and Peter immediately shut up. And then—

His heartbeat skipped.

There was Susan Storm, focused on her workstation, typing away on her holographic keyboard with an air of absolute confidence. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, a few loose strands falling over her heart-shaped face. The soft glow from the monitors bathed her in light, emphasizing her gorgeous blue eyes.

The moment she looked up and smiled at him, Peter felt his entire body stiffen.

Why did she have to smile like that?

“Fascinating,” ERIC whispered in his earpiece. “Your heart rate just spiked, sir. A medical emergency, perhaps?”

Peter gritted his teeth. “ERIC, so help me—”

“Morning, Parker,” she greeted, her voice smooth and teasing.

Peter cleared his throat, willing himself not to blush like an idiot. “Uh, hey, Susan.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You okay? You seem a little flustered.”

Peter shook his head quickly. “What? No. Flustered? Me? Pfft. That’s crazy talk.”

“Your voice is cracking, sir.”

“I will uninstall you.”

Susan smirked knowingly before leaning back in her chair. “You missed something fun last night.”

Peter arched a brow. “Oh?”

“Reed, Johnny, Ben, and I were discussing superhero names—you know, if we ever decided to use our powers.”

Peter blinked. “Wait, you guys are actually thinking about being superheroes?”

Susan laughed. “No, no. It was just a random discussion, nothing serious.”

Peter placed a hand over his heart in mock relief. “Oh, thank God. The last thing I need is Johnny running around in spandex, setting everything on fire.”

Susan snorted. “That’s exactly why we were coming up with names—just in case.”

Peter smirked. “Alright, let me take a wild guess—Johnny’s would be Flame Brain or Matchstick.”

Susan burst out laughing. “Oh my God, that’s actually perfect.”

Peter grinned. “And let me guess… Ben would be Rocky Balboa or Boulder Butt?”

Susan doubled over. “Boulder Butt? I am so calling him that later.”

Peter continued. “And Reed? Oh, that’s easy. Rubber Band Man.”

Susan wiped a tear from her eye. “Spidey, I think you need to stop weaving this web of ideas.”

Peter groaned. “Oh no, you’re starting with the puns.”

She winked before shaking her head. “No, but seriously. We actually settled on Invisible Woman, Human Torch, The Thing, and Mr. Fantastic.”

Peter tilted his head. “Okay… I have to admit, those are actually good names.”

Susan smirked. “Better than Spider-Man?”

Peter scoffed. “Listen, I was fifteen and had thirty seconds to think of a name before my first fight. Cut me some slack.”

Susan chuckled. “I think it suits you. Your name aligns with your powers, and you’ve already built a legacy around it. It’s simple but iconic.”

Peter scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… you guys have cooler ones.”

Susan smiled. “You’re already a well-known superhero, Peter. And I admire how you keep your civilian life and hero life separate. It’s not easy, is it?”

Peter let out a breath. “Not even a little bit.”

Susan nodded. “Well, if we ever do decide to go down that road, we might need some pointers.”

Peter grinned. “Oh? Asking for my expertise now?”

She smirked. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

Peter placed a dramatic hand over his chest. “Ouch. That hurts.”

Susan chuckled. “Alright, Professor Spider-Man, give me one piece of superhero advice.”

Peter thought for a second before saying, “Never underestimate how stupid criminals can be.”

Susan laughed. “That’s actually fair.”

They continued to chat while getting to work, adjusting the unstable molecules for their next round of testing. As they fine-tuned the material’s properties, their conversation drifted into different topics.

At one point, Susan glanced at Peter and casually asked, “So, Parker, what’s your dating history like?”

Peter froze mid-keystroke.

“…Huh?”

Susan raised an eyebrow. “You know, relationships. You’re single, right?”

Peter blinked. “Uh… yeah?”

Susan tilted her head, looking genuinely surprised. “Huh. I figured someone like you would have girls lining up.”

Peter chuckled dryly. “Yeah, well… my love life’s kinda cursed.”

Susan smirked. “Oh? Do tell.”

Peter sighed dramatically. “Long story short? Dating me is a one-way ticket to danger.”

Susan leaned against the table. “Sounds dramatic.”

Peter shrugged. “It is. But also true.”

Susan gave him a soft smile. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re great, Peter. You’re smart, brave, kind, and you actually care about people. That’s rare.”

Peter scratched his cheek. “Uh… thanks.”

Susan grinned. “Oh wow. Is Spider-Man blushing?”

Peter cleared his throat. “Anyway! What about you? You’re single too.”

Susan rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, science takes up a lot of time. Not exactly easy to date when you’re constantly working.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Oh, please. You’re Susan Storm. You’re smart, beautiful, confident, and, like, insanely cool.”

Susan smirked. “Aw, are you flirting with me, Parker?”

Peter choked on air. “What?! No! I mean—uh—shut up.”

Susan laughed. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

Peter shook his head, grumbling. “You enjoy this way too much.”

Susan winked. “Maybe a little.”

They spent the next few hours working, bouncing ideas off each other, refining the molecular stability of their fabric, and discussing everything from music tastes to worst lab accidents.

At one point, Peter, while adjusting the fabric’s energy absorption properties, muttered, “Honestly, I think Johnny should just be called Captain Fire Hazard.”

Susan lost it.

“Okay, I take it back,” she said between laughs. “You need to come to these discussions more often.”

Peter smirked. “Oh, I’m full of bad ideas.”

Their banter continued, making the work surprisingly fun—a rare thing in a lab full of equations and molecular data.

By the time they wrapped up for the day, Susan stretched and smiled at Peter.

“This was fun,” she admitted.

Peter nodded. “Yeah. It was.”

She smirked. “See you tomorrow, Professor Spider-Man.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Oh, that’s sticking now, isn’t it?”

Susan grinned. “Absolutely.”

As she walked off, Peter watched her go, shaking his head before muttering under his breath—

The moment the lab doors slid shut behind Susan Storm, Peter groaned and rubbed his face.

Mistake.

Big mistake.

“Well, sir,” ERIC chimed in, his voice far too smug for an AI. “That was a truly fascinating display of human awkwardness.”

Peter exhaled slowly. “I should have deactivated you immediately after I walked in.”

“And yet, you did not. A most grievous oversight on your part, sir.”

Peter groaned again, letting his head thump against the workstation. “ERIC. Please. For once in your existence, can you not?”

“But sir, what kind of companion would I be if I did not analyze and document your increasing attraction to Doctor Storm?”

Peter’s head shot up. “Excuse me—what?”

“Oh, my apologies, sir. I meant to say—your rapidly escalating attraction to Doctor Storm. An important distinction.”

Peter scowled at his watch. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“On the contrary, sir. I have been meticulously tracking your biometric responses during every interaction with her. Your heart rate spikes an average of 22% whenever she smiles at you. Your body temperature rises when she laughs. And let’s not forget the multiple instances of you staring at her when you believe she is not looking—”

“I do not do that,” Peter gritted out.

“Shall I play back footage?”

Peter slapped his watch. “Shut up.”

ERIC’s voice was practically gleeful. “Denial is the first stage, sir.”

Peter sighed, slumping back in his chair.

This was his life now. Getting roasted by his own AI.

After a minute of silence, ERIC spoke again—this time, more casual. “You enjoyed today, sir.”

Peter scoffed. “No, I suffered.”

“Sir.”

Peter sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “…Yeah. It was nice.”

“I am pleased to hear that. It has been some time since you have consistently engaged with others outside of your patrols.”

Peter frowned at that. “I talk to people.”

“Sir, I will repeat myself: It has been some time since you have consistently engaged with others outside of your patrols.”

Peter crossed his arms. “That’s not—” He stopped, then sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe you have a point.”

“I always have a point, sir.”

Peter shook his head, standing up. “And you wonder why I don’t take you anywhere.”

He grabbed his bag, shutting down his workstation. As he made his way toward the elevator, ERIC spoke again.

“Shall I order your usual from Joe’s Pizza? You have not eaten since breakfast, and based on your metabolism, you will become irritable within approximately twenty-three minutes.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “I will not become irritable.”

“Would you like me to replay audio from the last time you skipped a meal, sir?”

“…Okay, fine. Order the damn pizza- a large pepperoni and a sicilian and some garlic knots too.”

“Already done, sir. Estimated arrival: nineteen minutes.”

t had been… a weird day.

He wasn’t used to this. The normalcy. The banter. The casual fun.

Spending time with Susan felt… good.

“Sir, might I suggest a detour to clear your mind?”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “A detour where?”

“Swinging, sir. It has always been an effective stress reliever for you.”

Peter considered it.

Then he glanced at his watch.

“…Pizza first.”

By the time Peter reached his dorm, the pizza was already waiting for him.

Of course, ERIC had pre-paid, leaving Peter with nothing to do but grab the box and head upstairs.

Once inside, he tossed his bag onto the desk, flopped onto his bed, and cracked open the box.

“Sir, I have taken the liberty of adjusting the air circulation to optimize the pizza aroma for maximum enjoyment.”

Peter snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you appreciate my efforts, sir.”

Peter rolled his eyes and took a bite.

For a few minutes, there was nothing but blissful silence.

And then—

“Would you like to discuss your growing emotional attachment to Doctor Storm now, or shall I schedule a follow-up?”

Peter almost choked. “ERIC—”

“I can arrange a PowerPoint presentation with graphs—”

“Oh my God.”

“Or perhaps a list of all instances where she has made you visibly flustered?”

Peter groaned. “ERIC, why do you do this?”

“Because, sir, I am programmed to support your well-being. And your well-being would be significantly improved if you acknowledged your feelings rather than repressing them.”

Peter gritted his teeth. “I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Sir, I detect at least three separate physiological indicators that contradict that statement.”

Peter threw a pillow at his desk. “Shut up.”

ERIC did not shut up.

“Very well, sir. I will say nothing— and as you are my creator I am just here to follow my protocols and take care of your well being which also involves your mental health as well as emotional and romantic life but I won’t say anything further.” Peter just groaned. 

Hours passed.

Peter sat at his desk, tinkering with his web-shooters, his mind elsewhere.

ERIC had mercifully gone silent, allowing Peter to sit in peace.

But his thoughts refused to cooperate.

Susan.

Every interaction replayed in his mind.

Her smirk. Her laugh. Her teasing.

Her genuine kindness.

Peter ran a hand through his hair.

This was bad.

This was really bad.

Getting close to people—letting them in—was a risk.

He’d already lost too much.

And yet…

He couldn’t deny that spending time with Susan felt right.

Peter exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

ERIC hummed. “Statistically? Yes, sir. Emotionally? Also yes.”

Peter shook his head, smirking despite himself.

Maybe… just maybe… he didn’t mind.

Chapter Text

Peter let out a long sigh, stretching his arms as he stood at the edge of a rooftop, looking over the glowing city.

“Alright, ERIC. Let’s see what kind of bullshit the city’s cooked up tonight.”

“Scanning, sir.” A brief pause. “Ah. A delightful selection of criminal activity. Shall I list your options?”

Peter cracked his neck. “Hit me.”

“Option one: A mugging in progress, two blocks south. Option two: An attempted carjacking near 3rd and Lexington. Option three: An armed robbery at a liquor store.”

Peter tilted his head. “Huh. Kinda light tonight.But I’m afraid friendly neighborhood spidey gotta visit all his criminal buds, can’t catch a break.”

“Well said Sir, but Sir, I would argue that addressing the mugging first should be first priority rather than getting giddy to spend some quality time with criminals.” 

Peter sighed. “Fine, fine. Let’s start with the mugging. Give me the details and ease up on the sass would you , bad jokes are my thing don’t steal my thunder E.”

Swinging through the crisp night air, Peter made his way to a dimly lit alleyway. Below, three men surrounded a terrified guy, one of them brandishing a knife.

“Oh, come on,” Peter groaned as he perched on a fire escape. “A knife? What is this, the fucking medieval era?”

The muggers jumped at his voice, whipping around to see him crouched above them.

“The hell?” one of them muttered.

Another one scowled. “Shit, it’s Spider-Man.”

Peter flipped down, landing between them and the victim. “You guys ever consider a career change? Because I gotta say, your life choices? Not great.”

The one with the knife lunged.

Peter dodged effortlessly, twisting around him. “Oh, we’re just going straight to stabbing? No small talk? No ‘How’s your night going, Spider-Man?’, we’re sorry to disturb the peace of the city and would like to surrender peacefully. Any one??”

The guy swung again.

Peter webbed his wrist mid-swing, yanking him forward and slamming his face into the nearby brick wall.

“Guess you’re not the chatty type,” Peter mused as the guy crumpled to the ground.

The other two rushed him at once.

“Oh, now this is teamwork,” Peter quipped, flipping over them. He shot out a stun web, watching as one of the guys locked up mid-charge, his muscles spasming as he hit the pavement with a grunt.

The last guy hesitated.

“Smart man,” Peter said, tilting his head. “You gonna run, or do I have to kick your ass too?”

The guy cursed and bolted.

Peter sighed. “ERIC, be a dear and tag him for the cops?”

“Already done, sir. Shall I alert the authorities to your handiwork?”

Peter webbed up the two unconscious goons. “Yeah, yeah. Tell the boys in blue I gift-wrapped these guys for ‘em.”

“Done. You have approximately four minutes before they arrive.”

Peter turned to the mugging victim. “You good?”

The guy nodded frantically. “Y-yeah! Thanks, man.”

Peter saluted. “All in a night’s work.”

Then he swung off.

ERIC’s voice cut in. “Next crime, sir. Carjacking in progress, three assailants. Vehicle: 2023 Mercedes-Benz S-Class. Owner: Currently being threatened at gunpoint.”

Peter sighed. “God, I hate gun guys.”

“As do I, sir. Shall I suggest an approach?”

“Nah, I got it.”

Seconds later, he landed directly on the car’s hood with a thud.

The three criminals jumped back, startled.

“What the fuck?!” one of them yelped, gun wavering.

Peter tapped the windshield. “Nice ride. I was thinking of getting one of these. You guys test-driving it, or…?”

“Motherfucker,” another one cursed. “Shoot him!”

The guy with the gun aimed.

Peter fired a web straight at his wrist, yanking him forward and slamming his face into the car.

“Oops,” Peter deadpanned. “That’s definitely gonna need a paint job.”

The second guy swung a crowbar.

Peter ducked, catching the weapon mid-swing and yanking it out of his hands. “Man, where do you guys even buy these? Crowbars-R-Us?”

The guy lunged.

Peter hit him with a venom blast.

A bright crackle of bio-electricity surged through his palm, and the guy seized up violently before collapsing, before the third guy could do anything spidey clocked him in jaw making him see stars and going to merryland. 

Peter clapped his hands. “Alright, boys. Hope you like the backseat of a cop car.”

He webbed them up and stretched. “ERIC, you know the drill.”

“Calling the NYPD now, sir. ETA: Five minutes.”

Peter smirked. “Perfect. Just enough time for a snack.”

ERIC’s voice cut in again. “Sir, the liquor store robbery is escalating. Five suspects, all armed. Hostages confirmed.”

Peter sobering immediately. “Shit.”

He swung down to the storefront, peering through the glass. Five men, guns out, yelling at the cashier while customers cowered.

Peter breathed out. Time to go to work.

Seconds later, he crashed through the window.

“Hey, boys!” he greeted as glass rained down. “Hope I’m not interrupting—oh wait. I totally am.”

“FUCK, IT’S SPIDEY!” one of them yelled.

All five turned their guns on him.

Peter’s reflexes kicked in.

He flipped, dodging bullets as the robbers fired wildly. “Wow, zero trigger discipline! You guys ever hear of gun safety?”

One guy aimed—

Peter shot a web directly into his barrel, clogging it.

The guy pulled the trigger—BOOM. The gun exploded in his hands, sending him flying.

“Oof,” Peter winced. “That’s gonna sting in the morning.”

Another guy charged.

Peter dropped low, swept his legs out, and webbed him to the ground.

The remaining three backed up.

One muttered, “Fuck this, I’m out—”

Peter hit him with a venom blast.

The last two turned to run.

Peter webbed their ankles together.

They fell face-first into the tile.

“Sir, that was remarkably efficient.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Get the cops down here.”

“Already done, sir.”

Peter stretched. “And that’s my cue.”

Swinging into the night, Peter let out a breath.

ERIC’s voice hummed. “Feeling satisfied, sir?”

Peter smirked. “I’ll feel better after a burger but huh idk it’s a quite night but at least I get to hit the sack early.”

“Shall I order one for pickup?”

“…You know what? Yeah.”

He soared into the skyline.

Just another night as friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

Peter landed softly in a dark alley beside a small 24-hour burger joint. The neon sign flickered slightly, reading “Lou’s Grill & Burgers.” He could already smell the grease, charred beef, and toasted buns wafting through the air.

“You know, ERIC, for all the shit that happens in this city, at least we have good burgers.”

“An excellent observation, sir. Shall I alert the press?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Hilarious. Now, where’s my order?”

“Inside. You may retrieve it at the counter. And sir… you may also encounter an admirer.”

Peter frowned. “What does that mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Shaking his head, he climbed up the side of the building and flipped down onto the sidewalk, stepping toward the burger joint’s entrance.

The guy behind the counter—a chubby, bearded man in his mid-40s wearing a grease-stained apron—was mid-yawn when he turned and saw Peter in full costume.

His eyes widened.

“Holy shit,” he muttered.

Peter raised a hand in greeting. “Uh… hey.”

The man blinked. Then a huge grin spread across his face. “No way.”

Peter chuckled. “Yep. In the flesh. Or, well… in the spandex.” He tapped his chest. “I believe you have a burger for a certain web-slinger?”

The guy snapped out of his shock and grabbed the bag. “Dude, I had no idea I was making a burger for Spider-Man.”

Peter took it and sniffed. “Mmm. Smells like justice. And cheese.”

The guy laughed. “Man, you’re just as funny as I thought.” He hesitated. “Uh… can I get a selfie?”

Peter exhaled dramatically. “Fine, but only because you didn’t spit in my food.”

The guy fumbled for his phone in excitement. “Oh man, my kid’s gonna lose it—he’s a huge fan!”

Peter leaned over the counter slightly, throwing up a peace sign as the guy took the picture.

Afterward, Peter tapped the counter. “Appreciate it, Lou. Keep making great burgers.”

Lou beamed. “Always, Spidey.”

Peter swung away, munching on his burger mid-air.

Peter flipped onto the roof of his dorm building and sat on the ledge, unwrapping his burger. The city lights below flickered, and the sounds of honking cars and distant sirens filled the air.

“Alright, ERIC, let’s talk shop,” he said between bites. “How’d the stun webs do?”

“Based on field analysis, the webs effectively incapacitate targets for an average of 27 seconds before motor function begins to return. However, certain individuals with higher adrenaline levels may recover faster.”

Peter wiped his mouth. “So, we tweak the formula?”

“I suggest increasing the paralytic charge by 15% while maintaining elasticity. It should sustain incapacitation longer without causing nerve damage.”

Peter smirked. “Look at you, being all responsible.”

“Your well-being is my priority, sir.”

Peter chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Anything else?”

A pause. Then: “Yes. Doctor Storm.”

Peter groaned. “ERIC—”

“Sir, I am merely pointing out that Doctor Storm’s presence appears to have an undeniable effect on your emotional and cognitive responses.”

Peter rubbed his temple. “She’s just my colleague.”

“And yet, you find her intellectually stimulating, physically attractive, and have exhibited signs of nervousness in her presence—anomalous behavior for someone with your social avoidance tendencies.”

Peter gritted his teeth. “Jesus, ERIC, psychoanalyze me some more, why don’t you?”

“Gladly, sir.”

Peter threw his hands up. “Not literally—”

“You often deflect emotional introspection with humor or irritation, a defense mechanism likely stemming from past trauma—”

Peter groaned into his hands. “I swear to God, I will rewrite your entire AI code and replace you with a dumber version.”

“You threaten, yet you never follow through, sir.”

Peter pointed at the air. “One day, ERIC. One day.”

“Duly noted.”

Peter sighed. “Look, I get that you think she’s good for me. But I don’t need attachments. I’ve done this before. It never ends well.”

A pause. Then ERIC’s voice, less sarcastic this time.

“You believe your presence is a danger to those you care about.”

Peter swallowed. “Because it is.”

“I respectfully disagree, sir.”

Peter leaned forward, staring at the city below. “Then you’re wrong.”

“Statistically, you have survived numerous encounters with individuals far more dangerous than yourself. If that were truly a pattern, everyone you have ever cared about would be dead.”

Peter clenched his jaw. “Most of them are. Can we not discuss this bud??”

”Certainly Sir , I apologize.”

Peter huffed. “You’re really not letting this go, huh?”

“Not until you give it fair consideration.”

Peter rubbed his eyes. “Fine. I’ll think about it. Happy?”

“Marginally.”

Peter smirked despite himself. “Asshole.”

“Only by design, sir.”

He chuckled. “Alright, let’s call it a night.”

“Agreed. Sleep well, sir.”

Peter stood, stretched, and headed inside.

His mind still lingered on Susan.

And, reluctantly… on hope.

Chapter Text

Peter woke up with a groan, his face buried in his pillow. His muscles ached slightly from the previous night’s patrol, and his brain was screaming at him to go back to sleep.

He turned over, glaring at the ceiling. “ERIC, what time is it?”

“9:47 AM, sir. Would you like me to order your usual coffee?”

Peter let out a long, dramatic sigh. “I hate mornings.”

“That sentiment has been recorded approximately 473 times, sir.”

Peter swung his legs off the bed, rubbing his eyes. “And yet, I still mean it.”

“Consistency is key.”

Peter stood and stretched, his back popping in multiple places. He made his way to the tiny dorm bathroom, splashing water on his face.

“Alright, ERIC, what’s on the agenda today?”

“It is Sunday. No internship. No classes. You are free to do as you please.”

Peter blinked. “Holy shit. A free day?”

“Indeed, sir.”

Peter grinned. “I can do anything?”

“Within legal and moral constraints, yes.”

Peter groaned. “Why must you limit my potential?”

“To prevent headlines such as ‘Spider-Man - the masked menace from resurfacing again” “Ohh ya know E , JJ is still gonna milk my name for selling a few copies of his crappy newspaper, he just can’t help it but scream my name out loud” 

After a few seconds ERIC chimed in “ Sir, perhaps next time you may want to consider what you were saying, it was different levels of uncomfortable even for me” . “ Umm yeah god that is seriously messed up why did I say that” 

Peter yawned. “Alright, let’s not dwell on the past. What’s for breakfast?”

“You have instant oatmeal, expired milk, and an apple that has seen better days.”

Peter grimaced. “Jesus. That’s bleak.”

“A reflection of your grocery habits, sir.”

Peter grabbed his phone. “Ordering pancakes.”

“An excellent choice. Shall I ensure they arrive within 30 minutes?”

Peter smirked. “Sometimes I wonder what I’d do without you.”

“Statistically, your diet would worsen, and you would continue to forget where you placed your keys.”

Peter sighed, collapsing onto his desk chair. “Fair point.”

As he waited for his food, his fingers drummed on the table. “You know what? Let’s do something productive today.”

“Shocking. What do you have in mind?”

Peter leaned back. “A new suit.”

Peter and ERIC spent the next hour discussing possible materials.

Peter tapped a pen against his desk. “Alright. Spandex is out. Nanites are cool, but I kinda want something more… physical this time.”

“You desire a durable, adaptable material without relying on Stark-tech nanotechnology?”

Peter nodded. “Something lightweight but strong. Flexible. Maybe even self-repairing to an extent.”

“Kevlar-based polymers could offer durability without excessive weight.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Kevlar’s a start, but I need more flexibility.”

ERIC processed for a moment.

“I have compiled a list of composite materials used in experimental military gear. Would you like me to analyze potential compatibility?”

Peter grinned. “Now we’re talking.”

For the next few hours, Peter experimented with different fabric weaves and polymer coatings, using the stolen Stark Fabricator to create samples.

He ran flexibility tests, stress tests, and impact resistance checks.

At one point, he fired a web-line at a Kevlar-polymer blend. It stretched but didn’t tear.

“Not bad,” Peter muttered.

“A promising candidate. However, breathability remains an issue.”

Peter leaned back, crossing his arms. “Man, if only I had some Vibranium…”

“That would require revealing your civilian identity to Princess Shuri and visiting Wakanda, sir.”

Peter sighed. “Yeah, not happening.”

“Correct. Your risk assessment skills are functioning today.”

Peter rolled his eyes and got to work.

Peter scratched his head. “Maybe integrating carbon fiber mesh?”

“That would enhance strength and distribute impact force effectively.”

Peter grinned. “ERIC, you’re the best.”

“I am aware, sir.”

Peter snorted, going back to sewing test patches together.

After several hours, the prototype design began to take shape.

1. Kevlar-polymer blend for enhanced durability.

2. Carbon fiber mesh for flexibility and impact resistance.
3. Built-in shock absorption system for high-speed landings.

4. Self-repairing microfibers.

5. Glove enhancements for better grip and shock resistance.

6.Modified Web Parachute: A stronger, more controlled deployable parachute for aerial maneuverability.

7. Ice Webbing: Designed purely to mess with Johnny. 

Peter grinned mischievously.

“Sir, your priority list is deeply concerning.”

Peter laughed. “C’mon, ERIC. Imagine Johnny’s face when his flames get iced.”

“I fail to see how this benefits crime-fighting.”

Peter shrugged. “Morale boost?”

“For you, sir.”

“God when did you become such a killjoy E”. 

Peter held up a sleeve, admiring the texture.

“Preliminary scans indicate the material meets the desired specifications.”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Feels sturdier than my old suits. Should hold up in a fight.”

“Perhaps even withstand an encounter with Doctor Doom, should the need arise.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “ERIC, can we go one day without bringing up Latveria’s Most Eligible Tyrant?”

“Unlikely, sir.”

Peter sighed. “Whatever. Let’s finalize the design. And for an encounter with Doom I don’t need the suit we don’t want doomy to be scared of lil’ ol’ me. I mean the guy is just a brooding tyrant nothing more but I feel he reeks of evilness . Hah , I’m Doom , I am Evil kneel before me. ”

”You may want to work up on the delivery Sir if you prefer to add dramatics in your curriculum next semester”. Peter just sighed and continued working regretting making ERIC so sassy atleast KAREN was so damn respectful. 

Peter spent the next few hours assembling the prototype, adding custom fittings and tweaking mobility.

By the time he was done, it looked sleek, modern, and battle-ready.

He stood in front of a mirror, turning side to side.

“Assessment?”

ERIC scanned him.

“You look formidable. Also, significantly more stylish.”

Peter grinned. “Damn right. This might be my best suit yet.”

Peter fired a shot at a heated metal surface—on contact, the webbing crystallized, freezing solid.

Peter fist-pumped. “Johnny’s so screwed.”

“Once again, sir, concerning priorities.”

Peter smirked. “Relax, ERIC. It’s all in good fun.”

“Shall I integrate it into your existing web-shooters and helmet systems?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. Let’s make it official.”

Peter stretched, sore but satisfied.

He glanced at the clock—7:30 PM.

“Damn. That took the whole day.”

“An efficient use of time, sir.”

“Shall I log this as ‘Version 4.0’?”

Peter grinned. “Make it ‘4.5.’ Feels like a half-step upgrade.”

“Logged.”

Peter smirked. “Yeah, well… tomorrow’s back to the grind.”

 “Alright, let’s call it a night.”

Chapter Text

Peter was in deep, blissful sleep when suddenly—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

A blaring digital alarm ripped through the room, startling Peter so violently that he nearly webbed himself to the ceiling. His heart pounded, adrenaline surging as he scrambled to make sense of the situation.

“ERIC—” he rasped, voice hoarse from sleep. “What the hell?!”

“Sir, emergency priority call from Doctor Richards.”

Peter rubbed his eyes, groaning. “At 4:15 AM?”

“Yes, sir. Reed and Nathaniel have detected anomalous energy spikes in Latveria.”

That got Peter’s attention. He sat up instantly, sleep forgotten. “Doom?”

“That is the working theory, sir.”

Peter exhaled, processing. “Does Reed need me as Spidey or as myself?”

“Unspecified. However, I suggest bringing both suits.”

Peter nodded, swinging his legs off the bed. “Alright. Give me two minutes.”

Peter threw on his casual clothes, stuffing the nanotech suit in his pocket and slinging the new Kevlar-polymer suit over his shoulder.

He stepped onto the balcony, cracked his neck, and launched himself into the night. Cold wind rushed past him as he swung across the sleeping city, quickly making his way toward the Baxter Building.

Within minutes, he landed lightly on the rooftop, entered through a side access point, and made his way to the main lab.

As Peter stepped into the lab, he found Reed, Sue, Ben, and Johnny deep in discussion.

Sue looked up first. “Peter.”

Ben gave a short nod. “’Bout time, kid.”

Johnny, arms crossed, looked irritated. “Took you long enough.”

Reed turned away from a massive holographic projection. “Peter. Are you up to date?”

Peter nodded. “Yeah. ERIC filled me in on the way.”

Reed gestured toward the display—a rotating energy signature. “These readings are nearly identical to the ones when we first activated the portal.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “So someone’s accessing it. And we’re thinking Doom?”

Reed exhaled. “It’s the most plausible explanation.”

Peter crossed his arms. “Alright. We know what’s happening. But we can’t do anything about it.”

Johnny scoffed. “What the hell do you mean, Parker?”

Peter turned toward him. “I mean Doom is a king, Johnny. Latveria is a sovereign nation, and he has diplomatic immunity. If we act against him, we’re committing an international crime.”

Johnny’s expression darkened. “So we just sit here and do nothing?”

Peter shook his head. “No. We keep an eye on him. But we can’t act unless we have proof of hostile intent. Right now? All he’s done is access stolen technology—which we can’t report without revealing we have powers.”

Johnny’s jaw tightened. “Screw that.”

Peter sighed. “Johnny—”

“I don’t care about politics,” Johnny snapped. “If Doom’s up to something, we stop him.”

Sue’s voice cut through the room. “Johnny. Enough.”

Johnny turned to her, frustration evident. “Sue—”

“No,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “We do not go charging into a foreign country based on assumptions.”

Johnny exhaled sharply, clenching his fists. “We have powers now. What’s the point if we don’t use them?”

Sue stepped closer, eyes locked onto his. “The point, Johnny, is to be smarter than our enemies. Besides Victor is still an investor and a big one in many of our projects we cannot simply just do anything without risks of him pulling fundings even if we want to.”

Johnny glared at her, but after a tense moment, he exhaled and turned away, shoulders tense.

Reed sighed. “Ben, keep an eye on him.”

Ben nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I got Hothead over here.”

Johnny muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue further.

Reed turned to Peter and Sue. “Let’s head to the lab. We need to refine our tracking.”

Peter nodded, following as Sue gave Johnny one last look before walking with them.

Inside the secondary lab, Peter, Reed, and Sue gathered around a complex data display.

Peter leaned against the table. “Alright, what’s our approach?”

Reed adjusted his glasses. “We need to pinpoint Doom’s access point. If we can determine his location in Latveria, we might get a better idea of what he’s doing.”

Peter folded his arms. “Best guess?”

Reed exhaled. “Castle Doom.”

Peter smirked. “Of course. Gotta stay on-brand.”

Sue suppressed a small smile, but her focus remained on the screen. “How do we track further anomalies without being detected?”

Peter tilted his head. “Can we modify a satellite scan? Something subtle—background radiation shifts?”

Reed considered it. “It’s possible. Nathaniel, run a passive scan using ambient energy fluctuations.”

Nathaniel’s voice chimed in. “Processing. Estimated time: 12 minutes.”

Peter clapped his hands together. “Alright, we got twelve minutes to kill.”

Reed adjusted his calculations. “Peter, I’ve been meaning to ask—how did the new suit perform?”

Peter grinned. “Like a dream. Kevlar-polymer blend works way better than spandex.”

Reed nodded, interested. “I’d like to run tensile tests on it.”

Peter shrugged. “Be my guest.”

Sue, arms crossed, smirked slightly. “You two are such nerds.”

Peter grinned. “Takes one to know one, Doctor Storm.”

Sue arched an eyebrow but didn’t argue.

Reed cleared his throat. “Back to Doom—”

Nathaniel’s voice cut in. “Preliminary scans complete. Energy spikes originate from within Castle Doom’s restricted zones.”

Peter whistled. “No shock there.”

Reed’s expression darkened. “He’s definitely accessing something.”

Sue exhaled. “We’ll keep monitoring. If the spikes escalate, we’ll reassess.”

Peter nodded. “And in the meantime, we don’t let Johnny do anything stupid.”

Sue sighed. “That’s the hard part.”

Peter smirked. “Yeah, well… lucky for you, I’m an expert in babysitting impulsive idiots.”

Sue gave him a half-smile. “That so?”

Peter shrugged. “I did hang out with Tony Stark.”

Sue actually laughed.

Reed smiled slightly before turning back to the data. “Let’s keep watching. If Doom makes a move, we will be ready.”

Peter nodded, settling in for the long haul.

The soft hum of the Baxter Building’s systems filled the common area as Peter leaned back against the couch, eyes glued to the holographic projections of the energy spikes recorded from Doom’s device. The visuals fluctuated erratically, showing no consistent pattern, but the power levels were concerning. It was well past midnight, and though his enhanced physiology meant he didn’t need much sleep, exhaustion still clung to him.

Across the room, Johnny was sprawled out, using a throw pillow as his personal headrest. Ben had his feet propped up on the coffee table, snoring lightly. Reed, unsurprisingly, had retreated to his personal lab to analyze the data in more depth, leaving Peter, Susan, and the others to decompress.

Susan stretched, her white lab coat slipping off her shoulders slightly, revealing the curve of her toned arms. “We’re not going to solve anything staring at this all night,” she said, standing up. “I’m heading to the lab to store this data properly. Parker, you coming?”

Peter hesitated before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”

As the rest of the team remained in their lazy positions, Peter followed Susan into their shared lab. The doors slid shut behind them with a soft hiss, enclosing them in the more sterile, tech-filled environment. Susan walked over to her workstation, accessing the system that housed the project’s files, while Peter set down his tablet, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Are you always this serious when you work?” Susan teased, tapping on the holographic interface. “It’s like you’re afraid to even breathe too close to me.”

Peter blinked, caught off guard. “What? No. I—uh…” He cleared his throat. “I just focus a lot, that’s all.”

Susan smirked, leaning against the desk, arms crossed. “Mhm. Right. That’s why you avoid looking at me half the time?”

Peter felt his face heat up instantly. “I don’t avoid—” He stopped when he realized her expression was one of amusement, not confrontation. “You’re messing with me.”

“Maybe a little,” she admitted, tilting her head. “You’re just fun to fluster.”

Peter groaned internally, resisting the urge to facepalm. Great. Just great.

Inside his earpiece, ERIC whispered, “Sir, I must admit, I have never seen you malfunction this severely in the presence of a woman. Would you like me to provide some pre-generated responses?”

Peter’s jaw tightened. “ERIC, shut up.”

Susan must have noticed his brief moment of irritation because she raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

Peter sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “I, uh… I just remembered I left something running.” He tapped his earpiece, deactivating ERIC for now. Peace. Finally.

Susan watched him curiously but let it slide. “So,” she continued, “since we’re technically still working, let’s talk about something not work-related.”

Peter raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

She shrugged. “Anything. Something personal. Tell me, Parker, what’s your deal?”

“My… deal?”

“Yeah. You’re clearly some super-genius, you work harder than anyone I know, but you keep everyone at arm’s length. Why?”

Peter hesitated. It wasn’t an easy question to answer, not without revealing too much. “I guess I just… don’t have the best track record with getting close to people.”

Susan frowned slightly but didn’t push. “Bad experiences?”

“You could say that.”

There was a beat of silence before Susan softened. “I get it,” she said. “Sometimes it feels safer to keep a distance, right? Less chance of getting hurt. Less chance of losing people.”

Peter glanced at her, surprised by her insight. “Yeah… something like that.”

Susan studied him for a moment, then smirked again. “Well, bad news, Parker. You’re stuck with me now.”

Peter laughed despite himself. “Oh no. Whatever will I do?”

They continued talking, the conversation flowing naturally, touching on past interests, shared scientific curiosity, and even small personal anecdotes. At one point, Susan mentioned how she once hacked into one of Reed’s lab tests just to prove a point—something Peter found endlessly amusing.

Hours passed, and eventually, their stomachs won the battle against science.

“Okay, break time,” Susan declared. “I need snacks, and you’re coming with me.”

Peter shook his head in amusement as they made their way to the small kitchenette.

Meanwhile, at the Avengers Compound,

A thunderous boom echoed through the compound’s grounds, shaking the trees and causing the security systems to blare in brief alarm. A massive, smoldering crater was now embedded into the lawn, courtesy of Stormbreaker.

Inside, Professor Hulk groaned, rubbing his temples as FRIDAY’s voice chimed in.

“Sir, Thor has arrived.”

Bruce muttered, “Of course he has,” and made his way toward the entrance.

Thor strode in with his usual grand presence—his physique now much more like his old self, hair longer, beard full once again. His cape billowed behind him as he greeted Bruce with a grin. “Ah, my friend! It has been too long!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bruce said, arms crossed. “You know, you could use a door.”

“Nonsense! The Bifrost is far more efficient.”

Bruce sighed. “You were in new Asgard which may I remind you is in Norway not another realm. Why do I even bother Tony was right you my pal have got no regard for lawn maintenance. FRIDAY, inform the others.”

Soon, Sam, Kate, and Bucky arrived, the latter two unfamiliar to Thor. The God of Thunder looked them up and down before smirking. “New warriors?”

Kate raised an eyebrow. “Uh… yeah?”

Thor grinned, clapping a hand on her shoulder—almost knocking her over. “Good! You shall prove your worth in battle soon enough.”

Kate winced. “Ow. Okay, strong hands, got it.”

They all gathered in the common room for lunch, where Thor recounted his visit to New Asgard. “Valkyrie leads well in my absence,” he said proudly. “She is a true queen.”

Conversation soon shifted to recent events.

Sam sighed. “Yeah, you missed a lot. Wakanda had to deal with an underwater warlord named Namor. He attacked after thinking they were threatening his people.”

Thor frowned. “An underwater kingdom? And I was unaware?”

Kate added, “Shuri, T’Challa’s sister, is the new Black Panther.”

Thor nodded solemnly. “A noble successor.”

More discussions followed—Shang-Chi’s potential recruitment, Yelena’s existence as Natasha’s sister, Cassie Lang taking up the name Stature, and even the recent discovery of Adamantium and President Ross being a damned Red Hulk of all people and the growing population of hulks.

By the time everything was laid out, Thor looked both amazed and somewhat disappointed. “All of this happened while I was away?”

Bucky smirked. “Yeah. You need to check in more often, big guy.”

Back at the Baxter Building, Peter and Susan finished their work extremely late. Peter stretched, stifling a yawn as Susan smirked at him.

“You sure you’re not secretly part machine?” she teased.

Peter chuckled. “Nah. Just built different.”

Susan rolled her eyes, amused. “Alright, Parker. Get some sleep.”

Peter hesitated for a split second, taking in the sight of the stunning blonde scientist before him. “Goodnight, Susan.”

She smiled. “Goodnight, Peter.”

With that, Peter swung out into the night. As he soared above the city, ERIC reactivated.

“Sir, Sam Wilson has informed FRIDAY that Thor is staying at the Compound for a few days. A training session is expected soon.”

Peter sighed. “Of course it is.”

Then ERIC’s voice took on a more urgent tone.

“Additionally, there is a crime happening near Hell’s Kitchen. Daredevil is currently engaging, but assistance may be needed.”

Peter smirked. “Where’s the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen when you need him?”

“Currently taking out three hostiles. There are more.”

Peter cracked his neck, activating his nanotech suit. “Alright. Let’s go help out a friend.”

With that, he shot forward into the skyline, heading straight for Hell’s Kitchen.

Chapter Text

hey guys not a chapter sorry bout that but tell me would you guys love it if we get our spidey a little more fame or like reporter hero interview type of thing like supes has or stark had also which reporter would you want like I have got choices

1. Introducing the proper MJW ( Mary Jane Watson) ( part time broadway show actress but majorly reporter for bugle)

2. Christine Everhart ( already was in iron man )

3. Lois lane ( I’m the author and can have any characters I want )

4. Vicki Vale 

5. Betty Brant ( yes the same one Peter went to school with ) 

Chapter Text

The cold air of New York City rushed past Peter’s face as he soared above the skyline, swinging toward Hell’s Kitchen. He had just activated his nanotech suit, feeling it shift and mold onto his body with practiced ease. ERIC’s voice remained steady in his ear, feeding him details.

“Sir, Daredevil is currently engaged with a group of armed criminals outside a warehouse on 10th Avenue. I estimate eight hostiles—four inside, four outside. The ones outside are dealing with Daredevil rather… poorly, I might add. The remaining four are moving a shipment of illegal weapons inside.”

Peter smirked under his mask. “Let me guess, they’re struggling to hit a blind guy?”

“I would say struggling is an understatement. It appears one of them has already knocked himself out by accidentally hitting a metal pole with his own bat.”

Peter chuckled. “You love to see it. Alright, let’s go say hi.”

He flipped midair, angling himself toward the warehouse. As he neared, he spotted the chaos below—Matt was already taking on three men, ducking and weaving between their attacks with practiced precision. The fourth man stood back, fumbling with a pistol, his hands shaking as he tried to aim at the moving target.

Peter shot a web at the gun, yanking it away. “Hey, buddy! Guns are bad for your health. So’s crime. So’s… that ugly jacket.”

Before the thug could react, Peter slingshot himself forward, delivering a two-footed kick to his chest that sent the man sprawling. The remaining criminals turned in alarm, now caught between a brutal brawler in a red suit and a sarcastic acrobat in blue and red.

“I had them, Spider-Man,” Matt called out, his tone dry but not unfriendly.

“Sure you did, Daredevil. But I figured I’d save you some trouble devil horns.”

Matt smirked. “Fair enough.”

One of the remaining thugs lunged at Peter with a knife, but Spidey sidestepped effortlessly. “Dude, seriously? You bring a knife to a web fight?” He shot out a web, wrapping the guy’s hand and yanking him forward, delivering a web-enhanced punch to his gut that knocked the wind out of him.

Matt, meanwhile, flipped over one of the remaining men, his billy club cracking down hard against the thug’s temple. The last guy standing looked between the two vigilantes, clearly reconsidering his life choices.

Peter cracked his knuckles. “So, what’s it gonna be? Surrender and take a nice nap on the pavement? Or—”

The man turned to run.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Peter fired an impact web, watching with satisfaction as it hit the guy’s back, exploding into tendrils of sticky webbing that wrapped around his arms and legs, slamming him face-first into the pavement.

Matt let out an amused breath. “New trick?”

“Just cooked it up. Thought I’d test it out on the friendly neighborhood morons.”

Peter turned toward the warehouse, his lenses narrowing. “Still got four inside, right?”

“Yes,” ERIC confirmed. “They seem to be moving crates toward the back exit.”

Peter cracked his neck. “I’ll take the high ground. You go through the front?”

Matt gave a nod before moving forward. Peter shot a web to the rooftop and pulled himself up, moving swiftly to the warehouse skylight. Through the dusty glass, he spotted the four men hurriedly loading crates onto a truck.

“Oh no, looks like we got some runners. Should I let them go? Give them a head start?” he joked.

ERIC sighed. “Sir, you are incapable of keeping quiet, even in a stealth situation.”

“That’s what makes me me, buddy.”

He crashed through the skylight. “What’s up, fellas? Amazon Prime delivery? I don’t think you’ve got the right shipping labels.”

The criminals cursed and scrambled, reaching for weapons. Peter was faster. He shot a web at the closest guy, yanking him upward and sticking him to the ceiling. The next guy swung a crowbar, but Peter ducked, grabbed the weapon mid-swing, and webbed it to the guy’s own hands before flipping him onto his back.

Behind him, Matt entered through the front, immediately striking with his billy clubs. One guy managed to pull out a pistol, but before he could fire, Peter shot an ice web, freezing the weapon solid in his hand.

The man yelped, staring at his frozen gun. “What the fuck?! What kind of web is this?!”

Peter grinned. “Experimental. Also? Cold.”

He delivered a solid kick to the guy’s chest, sending him flying into a stack of crates.

Within minutes, the criminals were webbed up, groaning in pain. Peter clapped his hands. “Well, that was fun.”

Matt crossed his arms. “You should be more careful with your web variations.”

Peter scoffed. “Come on, they work perfectly! Except that one time it nearly backfired and almost webbed me to a moving bus, but that’s beside the point.”

Matt exhaled, shaking his head. “One day spidey”. 

Peter smirked. “One day what?”

“One day, that mouth of yours is going to get you in serious trouble.”

“Matt, please. My mouth has gotten me in trouble more times than I can count. It’s practically tradition at this point.”

Matt sighed. “You’re impossible.”

Peter clapped him on the back. “And you’re blind. Look at us, a perfect team!”

ERIC interjected. “Sir, would you like me to notify the authorities about your ‘handiwork’ before you get distracted with unnecessary banter?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Yes, ERIC, call the boys in blue.”

Matt smirked. “You named your AI ERIC?”

Peter groaned. “Oh, don’t you start too.”

After leaving Matt to clean up, Peter swung toward his dorm, his mind drifting. He had taken out criminals, tested his impact webbing, and annoyed Matt—all in all, a productive night.

But his thoughts kept circling back to Susan. Her smile, her teasing, the way she leaned just a little closer when they talked. It had been a long time since he let himself get this distracted by someone.

ERIC’s voice broke his thoughts. “Sir, you have an incoming call from an encrypted line.”

Peter furrowed his brow. “Who is it?”

“Identified as Yelena Belova.”

Peter blinked. “Oh. Huh. Patch her through.”

A moment later, Yelena’s voice filled his ear. “Hello, little spider.”

Peter groaned. “You know, for someone who tried to kill me once, you’re awfully friendly these days.”

She chuckled. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”

“Comforting.”

“Relax, Spider-Man. I just wanted to chat. Maybe see if you’re up for a mission soon.”

Peter raised a brow. “Oh? Who’s the target?”

“Not a target. More of an… issue. But I’ll tell you in person.”

Peter hesitated. “You’re in town?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Meet me tomorrow night on the Brooklyn Bridge. Midnight.”

And with that, she hung up.

Peter exhaled. “Great. Just what I need. More mysterious Russian assassins in my life.”

ERIC chuckled. “Sir, you seem to attract dangerous women.”

Peter sighed. “Tell me about it.”

As he swung back toward his dorm, he knew one thing—his life was about to get even more complicated.