Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I

- Pilot -

That damn alarm.

Peter forces himself to rise from his slouchy couch, the Spidey suit that had been discarded on the floor at his side gathered into a pile of a stinky and disgusting piece of outerwear. He sluggishly makes his way to it and picks it up by the collar, inspecting it briefly for any tears or damage because he vaguely remembers that last night, he got slashed on his shoulder by one of the robbers amid a group fight and he found it.

"Man, how I miss the Iron Spider." He mumbles and takes the suit to the shower with him, intending to clean it and later sew it just before going to the university as he doesn't have to work on weekends.

Around nine, he got off his building and onto the street.

As he enters the campus's ground, his eyes quickly dash to the notice board, various e-leaflets and post-its scattered across the display of LED board are so diverse in their topics that sometimes he's confused. Many companies and institutions often deposit their e-adverts here to try to coax young and bright minds to join them in the internship program.

"There's Oscorp, Richards Aerospace, Stark Tech..." Peter listing through the most notorious names on the board.

He can definitely get into Oscorp easily considering that he and Harrison, Norman's son and future CEO of the company, are basically what he and Ned had been a long time ago.

Richards Aerospace, though, is quite a challenge. It is well-known how picky their HR is and the criteria one has to meet to apply to even a short-term internship program are considered to be outrageous even among the elites of the year.

Stark Tech, on the other hand, is moderately demanding. He knows the inside well enough to operate inside the facility with his eyes closed, yet the fact that he's a complete stranger to the Starks is going to be a tough nut to crack. He is also not sure that if he sees little Maguna again after these years he will be able to stop himself from breaking down.

"Parker?" a voice called to him, Peter whipped himself in that direction and was greeted by one of his bioengineering classmates.

She wore a faded green jacket over a deep-violet crop top with a nerdy slogan on it. Headphone hanging around her neck with a choker adorned with a silver DNA pendant. A pair of reinforced yoga pants accentuate her legs beautifully, with running shoes to complete the look.

"Stacy." He's finally able to recall her last name and waves at her a little while shooting his dorky trademark smile at her, to which she seems to respond in kind and steps closer to him to gaze upon the same board, fragrances overwhelmed his sensitive nostrils that he can't restraint a cough.

"You got a cold?" she looks at him with a little concern darting across her eyes.

"Nah, just dust, I think?" Peter notes, though, that today she seems to be standing closer to him than usual.

"So, have you decided where to go yet?" she starts the conversation by jutting her pursed lips at the section where the LED screen is displaying internship-related adverts.

"Huh? Oh, you mean the internship."

"Yes?"

"Uh... I haven't decided yet. You know how it is; many things to consider, work schedule, etcetera." He answered her as casually as he could, but the expression on her face tells him that she did not buy it, at all.

"You're like... our university third-best! I'm sure everyone will welcome you with open arms if you just take that leap."

"Third-best?"

"Yeah." She affirms. He should be a little bit agitated by that comment if not for that little smirk of mischief on her face.

"Right." Peter brushed it off with a light chuckle and a little shake of his head, but he couldn't hide his smile. A light punch collided with his shoulder followed by Stacy's giggle.

"I'm just messing with you, dork." She said with a lighthearted tone "But seriously, though, don't waste your time, man. These opportunities aren't going to be here forever. Before you know it, you'll lose it." She pats his shoulder lightly with her hand, lingering on it a little and then making her way into the building. She stops and turns around in her heels, looking at him with that doe eyes of hers, he's starting to think that they are somewhat a little bit mesmerizing. "I didn't catch your name."

"Um... it's Pete." He replied with a tight-lipped smile.

"Pete, yeah, awesome. I'm Gwen."

"Nice to meet you, Gwen," Peter says with a newfound excitement swelling inside him. He's not so inadequate in socializing that he didn't recognize her behavior, he knows what this means and decided that it had been long enough for him to still hold on to MJ, he ought to move on at some point and nothing is preventing him from doing that now. "Hey, you free tomorrow?"

"Yeah, um... why?" a little tug of a stray strand of hair, eyes casting a little downward, freehand fidgeting a little; yep, she likes him, it all painfully identical to how he was around Liz and MJ in high school.

"We can grab some tea, I know a place where they make the best lemon green tea, you'll love it. Maybe we can compare notes on mister Oswalt's lectures together."

"So, it's a date." That is not a question, and he grins a little at that.

"Yeah," he answered with confidence. He sees Gwen let out a breath she'd been secretly holding.

"Meet you there?"

"Well, I don't have your contact," Peter says while fishing out his phone. It's not the latest in line but it's still functioning really well. Gwen gestures with her hands for Peter to toss it to her and he obliged. She caught it masterfully in mid-air.

"Wow, this thing's old." Gwen jokingly comments about his phone while typing quickly into its touchscreen.

"Hey! You are hurting her feelings." Peter protests with an overdramatic tone of voice. Most of Spider's surveillance system was indeed wiped out but he managed to extract EDITH into a chip that can be relocated into any communication device with standard Starkphone manufacturing.

"Don't worry, I am a big girl." The synthetic voice of the AI came out of the speaker and Gwen yelped a little and almost dropped it from her hands. She has a confused and surprised look on her face when she's looking at Peter for an explanation.

"It's an AI. I wrote her into a chip and installed her into a phone."

"AI? You created an AI?" Gwen inquires with excitement and disbelief.

"Yep. Her name's Edith."

"This is amazing. Can I have one?" Gwen displays a childish personality and looks at him like she's asking for candy and not an advanced form of artificial intelligence.

"We'll see. What do you think, Edith?" he replied to her and then talked to his assistant via an earpiece hidden inside his glasses.

"Even if I can be replicated, you still don't have the technology required to create another form of artificial intelligence in your possession, Peter. It would take decades if we were going to use your salvaged laptop." EDITH reminds him and that makes Peter facepalming himself with a groan. Gwen, though, seems to find the bantering entertaining as she laughs after the AI finishes her answer.

"I like her! Hey, Edith, I'm Gwen." For a moment he thought that Gwen was going to just keep his phone to herself, but discarded that thought immediately.

"Hello, Gwen. Should I send you the location of Peter's aforementioned tea shop?"

"Um, sure." Gwen replied and looked at Peter, mouthing 'dude!' to him with a look of pure joy on her face. A moment later Gwen's phone produces a notification sound and the blonde took it out of her pocket to look it up. "Dude!"

"Yeah, I know, I'm awesome." EDITH delivered it with such smugness that he could imagine her virtual hologram doing that. Peter makes his way to Gwen and the blonde gives him the puppy eyes.

"Can I have her?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pretty please?"

"Nah. Come on, you're going to be late for the lecture." Peter snatches his phone back with a joyous grin on his face regarding Gwen's facial expression when she's asking like an excited toddler who wants a new toy.

"Let's make a deal, If I get an internship at Oscorp I will sneak you into the lab and you are going to make me one." She says with her eyes wide and her head nodding quickly as to persuade him, Peter can't help but chuckle at her giddiness. The pair enters the theater together and reside in a couple of vacant seats with each other, with Gwen pestering him to use his phone from time to time. Alaric Oswalt's class went by as usual, and eventually, Peter just let her have his phone for the rest of the lecture while he did the actual study for them.

Chapter Text

II

- A Night Shared in Warmth -

Main Cast:

Peter Parker / Spider-Man

Gwen Stacy

“You are late.” The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen greets him with a stern but calm voice from where he’s perching on the balcony as Spider-Man lands softly behind him. He might divulge to the young adult that he announced his arrival by that thick scent of fragrances circulating his being; a fresh and somewhat sporty tone that was unfamiliar with the gimmick superhero’s presence since they had started working together.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” The Arachnid-themed-yammering-mouth-vigilante sheepishly apologizes to Daredevil, scratching his covered head and looking anywhere but at him. Daredevil hums an acknowledgment and urge for Spider-Man to take a station beside him, overlooking dimly lit, and dangerous streets below. Fisks’s henchmen are still active but have adopted a more discreet method of operating to avoid unwanted attention, which annoys him because he would have to peruse every nook and cranny of the district to even find a tangible lead to one of them at this point. Matt scolds himself internally for wishing for a different scenario. “What are we doing today?”

Apprenticeship under Daredevil came as a surprise to both of them, kind of like a symbiotic relationship as Peter provides heavy lifting while Daredevil teaches him bits and scraps about stealth and martial arts. With Spider-Man’s help, Daredevil was able to take down more armed thugs quicker than he previously could in the past.

“Stakeout?” Matt worded his question with a tinge of playfulness under his tone, making Spider-Man raise his hand abruptly as a form of rejection.

“Nope. I need some actions today.”

“What happened?” He knows that tone too well; a tone of someone disappointed at something. Spider-Man sighs with resignation and smoothly drags his gloved palm down his covered face to console his inner turmoil.

“My rent money.”

“Huh?” Matt wasn’t sure of what he heard, or that Spider-Man would even feel safe enough to discuss his private life with him; it was true that since Karen and Foggy managed to convince him that their firm should take super-individual cases, he had met with some interesting characters operating in New York City, but for someone like Spider-Man he had never imagined the webhead to be an actual normal people with normal problem just like that.

“I will have to make do with what I can. So, my schedule might be a little too packed for my patrols for a while. At least until after I get a paying internship.” He goes on and Matt tilts his head a little with a thoughtful frown. Internship. Rent. Friday’s absence.

“You are still in education?” Daredevil’s question stops his train of thought; realizing with a groan that he talked too much, again.

“Shit…”

“Well, that explains something, at least.” The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen gives the young vigilante a pat on his shoulder “At least you don’t neglect self-improvement.”

“Yeah. We are not supposed to be personal, right?” sheepishly scratching his webbed head in embarrassment, Spider-Man looks away from the senior at his side.

“You are stressed, Spidey. It helps to talk with someone.”

“I guess.” Peter accepts Matt’s reasoning quietly; his mind drifts off to the recent evening before coming here.

[A few hours earlier]

“So, what’s going on with you lately?” Gwen asks as soon as their dinner arrives. Both decided to meet after the unusually long class of Benedict Hannigan’s on advanced xenobiology. Peter raises his brows in response.

“Huh?”

“You seem off in classes. Dozing off. Ignoring our friends’ parties.” Gwen lists her observation with each of her digits as she eats, smearing her lips a bit. “You gotta make friends, well more than Harrison and me, dude! Friends mean connections!” Gwen pointed out with her fork, which had been licked clean.

“Well…I got other things to do. I don’t have that much free time.” Peter countered with a shrug, trying to enjoy his dinner of a little bit extra proportion; last night’s bank robbery was exhausting with all the gunmen spraying bullets around.

“Don’t have,” Gwen continues with a mouthful, with her accusatory gaze falling upon him, judgingly “or won’t have?”

“What are you trying to say, Gwen?”

“That you can balance it out better, dude! Work-life balance?”

“It’s not that easy for me, though.” Peter countered again, with a bit more vigor this time. He knows that Gwen never has a full-scale understanding of his private life outside of what they have shared in classes and over some meals, but he can’t help feeling like he’s being judged unfairly by her.

Gwen seems to drop it for the time being, sensing Peter’s irritation perhaps.

The silence stretched on for minutes, the only occupying sounds were the patrons and some light traffic outside the diner. Peter keeps his focus on his plate rather than the notifications beeping on his UI.

“Hey, Doctor Connors will be hosting an exhibition on Wednesday night. I don’t know if you want to come or not,” Gwen turns to her backpack and rifles through the content inside for a moment before presenting him with an invitation card.

Of course, he remembers Curtis Connors from years ago in the guise of a human-lizard hybrid, in fact, he never loses suspicious over any of the villains that he invited into this reality foolishly.

“You want me to go there?” he lifts one of his brows with an expression of curiosity.

“I want to know if you want to come with me.”

“Do you want me to?” Peter teases again just for the fun of it while tugging the invite card into his backpack.

“No. I just don’t know who to bring with me.” Gwen shrugged, with a smirk plastered on her lips. Peter let out a chuckle of amusement.

“Who’s the blonde that keeps asking you out during class? Or that ginger who always brings you a snack at lunch? What about that bodega’s clerk who always gives you a puppy eye?” He keeps on listing the candidates even when Gwen tries to jab him with her asparagus.

Both shared the remaining of their meals with small conversation.

They have been strolling down the busy street, chatting among themselves and sightseeing here and there. Gwen even pointed out some of her favorites for him to take a mental note.

“Hey, Pete?” Gwen says after a long minute of silence shared between them on a bench overlooking a playground where kids still running around from their giggling parents.

Peter turns his gaze, from the sight of a middle-aged woman with her son or a nephew near one of the sliders to her at his side with a hum rather than a verbal acknowledgment. Gwen looks at him with her blue eyes holding a tinge of concern within them.

“You can talk to me, you know?” she said it with a conviction that warms his heart a little, but the ghost of the past still lingers about, reminding him how fragile those hanging around him can be. “We know each other not that long, I’ll give you that, but we are friends. I’m here for you, along with the others.” Then she scoots a little closer to him and nudges his knee lightly with hers.

“Yeah…I know.” He ended it at that. Gwen sighs lightly before reaching out to firmly pat his slumped shoulder.

“You better dress to impress, though. There will be many pioneers and important figures in scientific circles at the event.”

“That would be a bit hard to do.” Peter let out an embarrassed expression and scratched the back of his neck.

“You know that a buttoned shirt and a clean slack are still considered appropriate since the 50s, right?” Gwen playfully bumps his shoulder to emphasize her words, making a cog in his brain turns.

He’d spent so much time around Stark executives and regular conferences at Pepper’s behest that anything less than a tailored three-piece suit borrowed from Tony’s old closet was unacceptable.

“You really think I should go?” Peter asks her after a long pondering into the past, side-eyeing her quirked eyebrows and that little smirk that made her cuter by a margin.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you are in dire need of socializing with people who have the same interests as you. We are social animals, a dose of socializing here and there keeps us going.” She then lightly hooks her index underneath his, tugging ever so slightly just to reassure him about her presence.

“High!” Daredevil, or half-dressed Daredevil, yells out a command to his sparring partner in sweatpants and a hoodie. Peter strikes from above as instructed with an acrobatic axe kick, albeit using a quarter of his full strength.

Daredevil easily redirected the impact to lessen the force and countered with a lightning jab aimed at Spidey’s face which the younger vigilante effectively negates by contorting his body inhumanely backwards. But then got the air knocked out of his lungs by a sudden redirect strike of an elbow downwards.

“Always plan three moves, but be ready to adapt unless you want to be predictable,” Daredevil informs him while putting a distance between them just enough to let Spidey regain his posture.

“That’s a complicated thought process.” Spidey points out while circling the center of their sparring ring in sync with his martial arts mentor.

“Move with your guts, not your brain.” Daredevil lectured him, and then with two long strides, he resumed the training, slowly adjusting the speed and frequency to match.

Peter ducks to avoid a sweep kick and continues with his momentum downward to close the distance with fewer and fewer thoughts circulating his mind; he wants to crack some cheesy gag so badly but refrains himself from doing so just to make the fight much more serious than any thugs or goons, he relied on the distraction technique all of his pseudo-professional crime-fighting.

Daredevil reacts almost instantaneously with a knee drop to get intimate.

Both exchange blow after blow with their short jabs and any form of martial arts each possesses, albeit Peter’s ran shorter than Daredevil's by a significant margin when it comes to CQC.

“First thing to keep in mind; they always have a knife on them.” The devil of Hell’s Kitchen produces a dulled stainless-steel dagger from his hip pouch, delivering a flurry of stabs at normal speed. Spider-Man evades and counters most with a few exceptions landed on either his shoulders or forearms.

“Second,” Daredevil grunts out and quickly tackles the webhead into a chokehold, which the Spider-sense tipped Peter off just in time for him to roll out at the side. “Always expect some hits to land, focus on ending the fight as soon as you can. Whatever it takes!” the blind vigilante quickly adapts to the situation by rolling along Peter’s path, trying to grab anything close to him.

Both fall into a dance between hands, knees, elbows, and a knife.

After a minute of constant struggle, Peter ended up having the tapered tip of a knife grazing the underside of his chin.

“The odds of you running into some knife fighter on the street is relatively low in your part of town, but never zero.” Daredevil retreats his knife and offers the teenager a hand for him to take.

Instead, he got a surprise pull that made him lose balance and land on top of Spider-Man’s propped-up knees, knocking the wind out of him just for a moment before the wall-crawler landed an open-palm strike on his left temple, disoriented him a little.

“Gotcha!” the teenager let out a cheer as he kick-flip himself off the floor into his signature pose.

“That’s good, Spidey. Look for an opening.”

“I believe your lecture was; There’s no such thing as fighting dirty.”

Daredevil tossed him bottled water from a refrigerator while downing one himself with an approval hum to his recollection.

“Another patrol night?” Matt asks after a while when he hears a ruffle of a backpack.

“No. I got convinced to go to a party by a friend, supposed to be there in about 15.” There’s a waver in his word as if he got nervous just by the thought of living a normal human life. Matt chuckles.

“Sounded like myself back in law school.” Matt reassures the Spider with a pat on his back “Have fun, The police won’t complain much about some extra work tonight.” The Daredevil then snatches a towel off a rack and then heads for his shower.

Peter contemplated his mentor’s words for a moment and felt like a weight lessened from his shoulder, finishing up with his packing and perching on the windowsill to take in the air of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Tomorrow, same time, section B-4.” Matt voiced from his shower, as he knows that Spider can hear it with that enhanced hearing “Text me in advance if you are too wasted.” The Daredevil pauses for a beat, and adds “Actually, get wasted for once. You are stressed enough as it is.”

“Now you gonna tell me to drink my problems away?”

“No.” Matt chuckles “Just telling you to let loose once in a while. It’s not so bad to forget sometimes, just saying."

He landed, not quite gracefully, on top of the nearby building across Nathan Dillion’s house, as informed by Gwen via a text. The partygoers are constantly coming in by one or two now and then, and he spots Gwen’s collapsible bike parked in front of the decent-looking house.

He starts getting out of his Mk-II suit; not to be confused by the suits made from his Stark intern days, for this is one of the suits he made from whatever decent quality fabrics he can get his hands on. He only finished integrating it with EDITH about a week ago, and he did implement some new looks on it too just to test out the water. So far? JJJ still badmouthing him and the criminals he caught are still not impressed about it, some kids love it though.

The pattern of black lines and portions on it might be his depression manifested if he really thinks about it, but well.

He folded and packed the suit neatly into his backpack and pried open an air duct hatch to hide it inside with generous layers of webbings. Sliding down the unseen side of the building via a drain pipe and adjusting his outfit while making his way toward Dillion’s house.

He picked the cleanest stretchy jeans he got, and a beige short-sleeve shirt to show off his toned physique a little. That caught some eyes and waves from girls hanging around the front porch.

“Hey, Parker!” Alice greets him with a little smile and raises a plastic cup in her hands. Peter smiles back and is about to go to her when Gwen slides past some of the jocks and hooks her fingers on the crook of his elbow to urge him inside.

“Thought you would take another ‘raincheck’,” Gwen voiced to him, piercing through the almost loud music in the background. Gwen is in her form-fitting gray tee and shorts, her see-through stockings end inside a pair of dark green sneakers. That smirk of hers always lit up the room, for him as of late.

“Someone actually threatens me about it this time. I think their exact words were; ‘Come with me or I will ask NYPD to make sure’,” Peter recites it for her and Gwen giggles “The power abuse was insane, just saying.” Peter relaxed his posture a little after they got past the crowded area into more spacious ones inside the house where some of their classmates and just fellow students, in general, hung around, lounging, chatting, and just enjoying Nathan’s playlist.

“Who knows? Maybe I’m not joking about it?” Gwen shrugs with her brow raised, guiding an eye-rolling Peter towards a vacant couch in a corner.

They sit down, and Peter can’t help but notice the closeness between them as Gwen insists on pushing at his side despite the free space this couch offers. He chances stretching his arm around her back; a move he saw Uncle Ben pull on May quite often in his childhood years, and Gwen seemed to not expect it but her expression gave off a satisfying reaction.

“A beer? Or something stronger?” Gwen asks from her spot pressing into his side and head resting lightly on the crook of his elbow. Her fragranced scent envelopes their little cocoon of privacy and Peter relishes the tart of her perfume along with a tinge of sweat from her traversal via her bike. Turning her head just to glance at him, and be greeted with Peter’s intense gaze.

No immediate answer, he just keeps gazing.

Gwen wiggles her brows as if to entice him to make a decision. Gwen felt her face start to heat up a little despite being the one to initiate this sudden closeness between them. Peter then starts to lean in closer, slowly as if to torment her with anticipation, and just when his breathing lightly tickles the crook of her neck, he whispers “I will have what you have, I didn’t really be at parties that much.” And Gwen swears she saw a glint of mischief in those warm brown orbs.

“Oh, yeah. Right.” Gwen coughs a little just to regain her cool and get up from him to the bar.

“Good for you, Gwen,” Steph said to her when she got to the bar, handling everyone's drinks as she assigned herself to be a makeshift bartender for the night. “I can tell some really eyeing him up since he walked through the door.” Steph produces the usual for her and another similar mixture for Peter.

“I really thought it wouldn’t go this well.” Gwen admits with a nervous smirk as she takes the drinks “Usually he was more… shy?”

“Maybe he’s caught up on your signals? I mean, you basically shoved them in his face these past few weeks.” Erik chimed in from the side as he sat nursing a tequila in his hand.

“But for real though; since when did our residence nerd get so fine?”

“The change of style, maybe? He was basically piling oversizes on himself until tonight.” Cass joined in the conversation regarding the ever-sleeping Peter Parker in their shared Chemistry labs.

“Yeah. Definitely.” Gwen agrees with it and takes a deep breath before making her way back to Peter.

“There’s some spare condoms in the upstairs bathroom!” Steph announces to her and Gwen whips around and flips her off with a grin. Blushing a little on her way back to Peter while some part of her intoxicating brain is staging a wishful scene.

“Here.” Gwen offered him a cup and returned to her humble abode at his side when he took it off her hand, sipping the drink then grimacing at the significant increase in alcohol compared to her previous one, which Peter seemed to notice as well after he down about half of it in one gulp.

“Wow!” Peter chuckles a little after the sensation of burn left his stomach “Your regular is this strong?”

“Nope. Steph messed up, hopefully by accident.” Gwen tells him and casts her death glare towards the waving bartender. “Take it easy though, you’re gonna get drunk.”

“Isn’t that why we go partying?” Peter inquired after enjoying the weight of her body pressing into him for a moment as she settled down into a comfortable position.

“Can’t say for anyone else, but I mostly go for dances,” Gwen replied and sipped a lesser amount than prior.

“You’re not gonna get me dancing, Gwen Stacy, don’t get any funny ideas.” Peter jokingly reprimands her with a raised index and a tone of voice imitating their professor’s lecturing. Gwen took it as a challenge and Peter could practically see a gear in her head turning.

Sure, he knows how to move around and be mindful not to step on his partner’s foot while going at it, his first few lessons under Daredevil’s mentorship were actually comprised of dancing around to get the footwork in. But nothing too fancy, just some classical music and moderate beats.

“Come on, dude! It’s a party! Have fun with me!” Gwen exclaims while touching her cup with his in a mockery of ‘cheers’. Then, after both are done with their drinks, Gwen abruptly springs herself off the couch as a new song starts while tugging Peter along with her to the supposed dance floor where some of the partygoers are gathering. “It will be fun!” she tells him with a wide grin, and he detests the idea of pretending otherwise instantly.

They got to the area and Gwen led him along the tunes, Peter tried to keep up with her while being mindful of his footing and pretending to be at least a bit intoxicated just to keep up the appearance. Gwen guides them around gracefully enough so they won’t be bothering other partygoers around them.

A cocoon of normalcy he had not felt in a while starts manifesting itself, faintly, slowly but constantly. Honing his senses and focus solely upon the blonde who grins and hums with the rhythm of a song he had listened to in passing while hanging out with some of his classmates after a tenuous lecture, not-so-soft but diligent hands move him with her.

A scene from the past manifests; a small but cozy apartment with an old record player tugged comfortably into a corner, a messy collection of cheap and some on-sales second-handed vinyl situated inside a cardboard box that contains some of his most memorable records that Peter had no choice rather than listening with his surrogate parents of Benjamin and May Parkers. Uncle Ben often worked late and tedious jobs just to keep a roof over their heads, while May was responsible for the cost of food and other essentials they might need.

His parents’ insurance helped a lot, for a long while, before May and Ben decided to invest them into a college fund for him in the future. They went back to the old habits and routines but with a sense of hope for the little boy they took in. Uncle Ben always told him that he got his mother’s brain and his dad’s mind; a combination of a true scientist, as he claimed.

A couple of times a week, Ben would get off early and draw May and him a sort of private party, with that record player he helped fix and some cheap snacks and sodas to go with it. His aunt and uncle would dance, slowly, mindfully, and lovingly with each other while he enjoyed the sense of domesticity radiating throughout their little haven.

Peter then awakes from his reminiscence as he feels a warm spot forming over his heart where Gwen places her hand, feathery as if afraid he might dislike it. Peter gives her a soft smile of approval and covers hers with his slightly wider and bigger one, pressing them deeper still as if daring her to reach the core of his being.

“I’m glad you are here tonight,” she whispers softly between them, their proximity so close it is a tug-o-war on intimate and suffocating. Gwen looks up and meets his dark browns with her blues, holding it for a moment just to cast it aside to focus on something that won’t short-circuit her barely functional brain.

“You are right about changing pattern,” he muses, swaying them side to side as the beat slowed a little, still purposefully filtering out their surroundings in an effort to take in the sight in front of him as much as he can. Gwen’s raised eyebrow entices him to continue “I’ve been keeping to myself too much. I need to get out and let people in.” Gwen nods along with his words, a satisfied smirk plastered upon her lips.

“And you owe me a ride on Coney.” Gwen reminds him with a playful nudge on his nose while pulling a serious face, which Peter shatters almost immediately by rolling his eyes with an exaggerated air blowing, jokingly mimicking a frustrated expression.

Gwen squeals in delight and abruptly coils her arms behind his neck, feeling the taut muscles and how he suddenly tenses up by the sudden change of intimacy.

Eyes are on them, with some murmurings and muffled whisperings, but Peter couldn’t care less about things other than the pair of sapphire vortexes intended to swallow him whole into an uncertain depth of mystery and desperation underneath.

The gap decreasing.

Breathes mingling.

Temperatures rising.

That light smokey scent clinging onto her marred his resolves, as well as his lemon aftershave and tinge of sweat making her head swirl.

He feels her arms tighten their hold on his neck like a python after sinking her teeth into her prey. A spider can’t compete, or rather he doesn’t want to even attempt a battle of control anymore.

He lunges in, cautiously, but hungrily at the same time.

Lightly brushing their lips together, their noses bumping and caressing.

Eyes closing and surrendering to their union minds just for this particular moment out of time, where their worries and concerns are entirely subjected to their partner’s satisfaction and contentment.

Gwen pecks his slightly agape lips, tasting an aftertaste of pizza.

Peter responds in kind, albeit with more fervor and aggression as he presses a bit more forward like a deserted man clinging to an illusion of an oasis. She claws at the nape of his neck lightly, scratching or caressing undecided but she keeps on the pressure as Peter seems to deepen the kiss after a short break for air.

“There are…” he breathes into the mingling dance of their lips; Gwen flutters her eyes a moment to assert the sort of his nervousness.

People around them, some strangers she never met, ESU students she knows. Gwen caught a salute from Steph and some stares from many, mainly from Eddie Brock; a media major who definitely has a crush on her if his consistency is to be considered to gain her attention and affection.

Gwen pays him and the others no mind as she feels Peter’s survived stubble lightly pricking the racing beat of her jugular while his teeth gently nibble on her earlobe.

“Upstairs?” she tugs at his shirt to urge him into an agreement, Steph’s statement earlier crawling at the back of her mind. She had expected a ‘hmm’ or a grunt to go along with it, but it seemed like Peter had another idea.

“My apartment.” He whispers into her ear breathlessly; her hold never falters and his hands on either side of her hips elicit a sensation of desire in the way he kneads and applies pressure. “The party is great, but I think we should get going.” He smirks a little, a trace of Peter Parker still present in those warm but fiery eyes of his.

The ride on her bike back to his place was relatively short, but she still wanted some kind of slingshot just for them to get here sooner.

Peter collapses her bike and carries it with him while she follows his lead up the elevator to the 5^th floor. The hallway is not long but her anticipation rises ever higher the more steps she takes following his apparently steady ones.

“I didn’t have a chance to clean it,” his confidence might have dissipated along their travel here, or maybe the fact that the alcohol level was lower than on the dance floor earlier. “So… watch your feet?” He turns the key and pushes the cream door inside, making a gesture for her to go inside ahead of him.

Gwen takes in the sight of his moonlit interior. A simple single bed with a relatively clean but messy bedsheet, a desk situated at its side with various textbooks and stationeries, and a beaker that suspiciously looks like one of ESU’s chemical lab equipment and contains an amount of nearly transparent viscous liquid supported by a makeshift stands, spreadsheets, and torn-out notebook pages pinned and taped on a plywood board depicts several equations and visuals of chemical bonds.

A Laptop still running some simulations and programming with a name tag ‘EDITH’ is another source of light in an otherwise dark room of his. She spied a document labeled ‘Richards Aerospace Internship’ tucked underneath it but her attention shifted as his hands snaked around her waist to lay flat against her belly. His warm being presses into her back and Gwen relaxes herself to lean on his supporting frame.

“You want something to drink? I only got some electrolytes and water though.” He asks in such a raspy and sweet tone that she mewls into his hold further.

“Water sounds good.” She informs him and expects him to depart, but he lifts her up and she instinctively wraps her legs around him while he carries her towards an old refrigerator. He swings open the door for her and Gwen takes her cue to grab two bottles out and let Peter lead them into the direction of the bed.

Her heart raced throughout the short trek he did, as he gently set her down on top of his bed Gwen let out a ragged breath and her hands shook slightly by the surge of adrenaline.

Peter retracts from her and slowly undos his shirt. Her eyes are glued to the show illuminated by the dim glow of the moon that accentuates and plays with his revelation.

Well-toned body, pecs, abs, and arms, greet her in the most alluring way possible as every movement acts like a communication, a conversation directly to her lust.

She eventually follows his lead, starts to undress herself after he throws his shirt over a chair, and seems to go for his jeans next.

Nothing too extreme, a decent size. She mused to herself as the moon illuminated his bulge strained by his elastic brief. She is sitting here, on his bed in her lacy lingerie and flush skins.

“Drink,” he demanded with a commanding lilt, descending himself over her and situating her legs upon his shoulders as he pulled her softly into a more reclined position. Gwen nods and licks her dry lips, blindly reaching for a chilled bottle of water and starting to drink it when Peter’s lips place feathery kisses above her navel, sending a shiver up her spine that elicits a guttural moan.

She let him play with her lower half with bated breath, fingers raking through his curly brunette head to encourage him even more.

When he tugged the rim of her underwear down with his teeth, Gwen was impressed and aroused, and when his hot breath washed over her bare apex she mewled on his sheet while tugging his hair harder as if to hasten his process.

Peter kisses her budding nerve and she giggles out quietly to the sensation, a lap leaves her wanting more, a swirl of the tongue has her writhing, and finally when he adds his finger into the mix she concedes.

She moans and grunts while massaging his scalp with her fingers and guiding him onto the right track. Adjusting the angle to reach even more. She grinds herself onto his nose and mouth, letting the prickle of stubble intensify the experience.

She had some, sure, but most never did it with this kind of conviction in their mind. Peter’s intention is obvious with each stroke of his tongue and fingers, and she is practically begging him to give her that with how desperate her legs are clamping his head in place.

“Pete!” she cries out as a signal, but Peter keeps his post and braves the broken dam, slowing his fervor into soothing kneads. She rides the wave biting her lips and slowing down her grinding when he retreated his fingers with a satisfying hum. She flutters her eyes open to be greeted by the sight of Peter sucking on those soaked fingers.

“You are cute when you tried not to scream.” Peter triumphantly teases her as he crawls his way up like a spider on the prowl. Some things can’t be helped, he guesses.

Gwen pulls his head down onto hers and vigorously crushes her parted lips up to his, Peter smirks into it and firmly grinds his bulge onto her still-sensitive mound. Gwen moans into their kiss while her fingers fumble with the waistline of his brief, creating an opening she plunges her hand inside and wraps her fingers around the wetness of his other head. Peter buckles into the touch and groans when she plays with the sensitive flesh.

“I don’t know if you are comfortable with—” his sentence got interrupted by her thumb.

“You lie down,” she commands with the finality he had to oblige. He flips them over to trade places and his back is on his bed when she releases him from the confines of fabric. Without any verbal exchange needed, Gwen dived down and enveloped him with her mouth.

The rhythm is delightful and enticing, the pace is perfect as well as the pressure being applied by Gwen’s dainty fingers. She plays with the tip when coming up for air and then returns to stimulate him to the edge, as a form of gratitude.

He rakes his fingers through her golden locks, parting a curtain of aurum to reveal a sight he won’t be able to forget; her eyes locked with his as his breathing hitched up and her caress intensified. His hips unintentionally bucked up in tandem with her pretty head swooping down and he let out a grunt each time.

“Gwen…” he rasps her name out while his and hers rhythms are in sync, chasing for that climax speeding through like a swing nearing the bottom of a pendulum. “Shit… I’m about to…” Gwen still had some reasoning left to unsheath his shaft from her mouth, glistening with saliva and precum, and double down on her strokes to edge him over the event horizon.

He falls, senselessly, with her guiding grips over the dangerous phenomena that rid him of hearing or visual.

His senses return as he felt a nudge on his leaking tip, looking down he sees Gwen tentatively kissing the opening and tasting his cum a little while her hand still keeps a steady stroke. He voices an approval grunt and lets his head fall back, enjoying the afterglow and Gwen’s special care.

Gwen weighs practically nothing on top of him when she climbs atop and straddles his waist, still in her bra and nothing else, and he starts to wonder the hows of this as usual.

“Do you have any…” a question escaped her mouth as she slowly rocks herself back and forth on his cock, teasing a penetration for both of them.

And the reality crashes down on him and he can’t help but slap a hand over his face and groan in frustration.

“Fucking moron!” he berates himself but Gwen chuckles sweetly before draping her slender frame on top of him, faces just inches apart as she firmly chases his hand away from his face.

“We can still…” she trailed off with a sultry voice, but Peter protested almost immediately.

“Definitely not. I want to so bad but we gotta be safe.” He emphasizes this by slotting snuggly between her thighs and brushing on her lips.

“You are too careful for your own good some time.” She chided him playfully, squeezing her thighs around his manhood to let him take pleasure from their jointed bodies.

“I’m fine with it though, this is already perfect.” He kisses her again, exchanging tongues while his hands explore her body.

“Might be the alcohol talking,” she muses to their shared breath and cupping his face with her hands before continuing “but I wanna be fucked tonight, Pete.” She takes another kiss from him and offers her neck for him to nuzzle in the way she loves.

“Linda’s pharmacy should still be open.” He offered and she seemed to agree with him.

“Linda’s pharmacy it is, then.”

Gwen snatched a tee off his closet to cover herself while he took her bike to buy some condoms and some lubricant; never disregard the lubricant, they are awesome.

She leans into the hard cushion of his chair, thinking about how the night has been going, and then the laptop lit up with a HUD showing a rough rendition of a face to her.

They stared at each other for a while before the generated face spoke.

“Hi, Gwen.” EDITH’s simulated tone greeted her along with something resembling a smile on the face.

“Edith? Holy shit!” her back straighten as if being jolted by a cattle prod as she scoots the chair closer to the desk, clearing any obstacle away from the keyboard and staring wide-eyed at the screen. “This is unreal!” an excitement of another kind took over her as the amazement of the artificial intelligence made itself present.

“Language!” Gwen swears that was said using Captain Rogers’s voice “and keep your voice down a little before Jared from upstairs starts—” Right on queue there’s a thud coming from the ceiling, like someone stomped on the floor or something “that.” An expression of annoyance formed itself on EDITH’s face and it made her mouth agape in disbelief as to how advanced Peter managed to develop his AI in weeks since that day of revelation.

“This is so cool! Dude, do you know how this could turn the whole ESU’s com-sci department into a bunch of giggling teenagers?! How did Pete keep you away from the public? I would have been showing you around to pave ways into companies!” Gwen pulls up another window with lines and lines of automated coding, which seems to be done by EDITH herself simultaneously.

“It actually was a request of mine.” EDITH’s half-covered face speaks “There are many cautionary steps and encryptions left to do before anyone outside of Peter and you can know about me.”

“Huh.” Gwen mused and accidentally switched to the desktop, seeing a wallpaper of a photographed scenic landscape of Lady Liberty in front of a sunset and various icons labeled as one’s normal laptop should. A folder catches her eye, named ‘PJT-SPM-AVG17-MKII’ the synonyms pique her interest, but she is not such a snob to rummage through his things without his consent. She switched back to EDITH and continued having a conversation with the AI.

She took EDITH’s advice to don an earpiece and started a tour around Peter’s small apartment. His backpacks, some worn and some torn apart by what resemble a claw mark. The AI acts as her guide with a reason to test out her perception and tracking sensors. “That is a still image of his late aunt and uncle,” Gwen grazes her fingertips across the polycarbonate surface protecting a pair of brunettes smiling into the camera on their wedding day, the picture has been tested by time but she can tell that Peter got a smile so warm from the lovely woman.

“A salvage box, or a ‘trove of treasure’ as Peter often referred.” She reached a cardboard box containing various electronics and components, some looked to be in good condition and some not so much.

“He built you up from these?” she asked, referring to the modified laptop as the AI’s main housing unit.

“Only added tweaks and replaced hardware. This laptop originally belonged to Peter back when he took an internship under Anthony Edward Stark’s tutelage.” The information and revelation shocked her beyond her wildest dreams.

“He interned for Stark!? The Tony Stark?” Gwen was bewildered at the information.

“Yes. Logs suggest Peter undertook an internship in a branch that later became Stark Techs.” EDITH added with a chirping voice, a pride laced into those words would only be noticeable if only her simulator could mimic emotions.

“Wow. He never mentioned that.”

“Something to do with Mister Stark’s passing. I presume.” The AI offered.

They must be close, then. She mused to herself at the thought.

“What about Stark Tech's internship?” she asks EDITH, but the sound of a door being opened and Peter sliding inside carrying her bike and a plastic bag interrupted it.

“You on a phone? I heard you talking to someone.” Peter approaches her with a kiss on her lips, which she receives eagerly.

“Oh! I was chatting with Edith.” She gestured her thumb towards his desk where the laptop was stationed with a generated face greeting her creator.

“The simulation, of course!” Peter exclaims in excitement and urges her to follow him back to his ‘roommate’. “Hey, Edith.”

“Peter.” The AI replied with a smile.

“How are things?” he said while bringing up another window flooding with lines and lines of codes, quickly and effortlessly input new orders and guidelines into the already stacked commands.

“Facial rendition went well, albeit it took longer than anticipated, but now I can respond to your lackluster puns and jokes more engagingly.” EDITH deadpanned and Gwen couldn’t stop a chuckle leaving her at Peter’s eyes rolling.

“Might be a bad idea to put sassiness into your personality profiles.” Peter groans without malice and keeps typing away while Gwen retreats back to the bed, laying the content from the pharmacy in front of her.

“I already encrypted and vaulted the cache inside category-5, you are stuck with this,” EDITH informed him with something resembling a smirk.

“Ol’ poor, little me.” He surrendered with a smile, but almost choked with Gwen’s interjection of 'Oh, you are anything but little, mister.' And she snickers when he casts a glare her way.

“Run another thorough test for the whole system, I don’t like odds.” Peter finished with his coding and let EDITH initiate a scan.

“Should I do it in hibernation?” EDITH asks before her execution.

“Are you a voyeur?” Peter questioned her amid shedding off his tee and sweatpants, while Gwen was already laid bare before him.

“Hibernation in 3, 2…” and she’s gone, but the laptop is still running programs as it should.

“Start making her more advanced and I will be jealous.” Gwen laced her fingers behind his head to pull him down to her.

“Shut up.” Peter jokingly chastised her and let out a chuckle before capturing her sweet lips again, bodies moving in synchronization with one another as they ground.

“Make. Me.” She bites her bottom lip while challenging him with an intense gaze. Peter smirked and started dancing with his tongue on her nipples. She mewls and twists in his vise grip pinning her into place, locking her in this sweet torture he has descended upon her.

“Fuck!” Gwen groaned as she felt his fingers at her core again, caressing and finding those sweet spots he discovered earlier. “Pete…” she pleads with him in desperate wanton, spreading her legs to entice her ever-pleasing lover.

“Yes, ma’am!” he salutes and made a trail of kisses up from her apex to the crook of her neck, stuck his mouth there as he aligns himself at her entrance “Need a hand down there though,” he teased and she was too horny to form a coherent reply. Reaching down between them with a condom in her hand, she put it on him in a clumsy swiftness and finally put him where she wanted.

“Fuck m—” her voice cut off as he steadily enters her wanting canal, each inch elicits a sense of euphoria and she moan his name out as he sheathed himself completely to the hilt inside her “…yes…” she breathes into his ear and Peter start to rock back and forth, gently and mindful enough not to hurt her with his super strength. The lubricant works wonders in giving Gwen a pleasant sensation and providing an aide for Peter.

He starts pumping in and out of her in long strokes, often to the hilt, and then just leaving the tip in. Plunge in, pull out, rinse, and repeat. Over and over again until his hips start to pick up their speed and desperation deafens his mind.

He pumps into her with more force, often knocking the air out of her lungs when he dives in and makes sure to rub his pelvis to her clit. He gathers her up tighter as his pace hastens a bit more while the intoxicating sensation overloads his nerves. Each layer and constriction made him shudder against Gwen’s boneless form, clinging to him with her arms and occasionally moaning out an encouragement he so desperately needed.

Their mouths collided again, tongues swirling in tango, his hands kneading her butts as if to sink himself deeper with each stroke.

“Gwen…” he rasped out her name like a prayer, ducking down to her neck and started sucking, intending wholeheartedly to leave a mark. Gwen keeps moaning with each strike she receives, legs tangling behind him as if to keep him there forever.

“Peter…” Gwen called between her ragged breathing, arms slinging around his neck and enjoying his strong hands on her rear. She bucked up against him here and there just to intensify the sensation, making a mental note to help him wash the sheet tomorrow. “Pete, I’m—” she couldn’t finish her sentence as a familiar surge shot through her body, dictates her legs to constrict his waist even more as she tries to ride out her orgasm and failed miserably as Peter seems determined to fuck the shit out of her at this point.

Ramming in and backing away just to ram his girth inside her tight folds again, he relishes the ecstasy and excitement clouding his mind. Mindlessly pumping into her again and again, disregarding the oversensitive nerves of the writhing blonde beneath him. He keeps fucking her like his life depends on it, arms under hers to brace them against a wall as he keeps pumping his hips forward and backward with Gwen’s sweating body writhing under his relentless barrage.

Utilizing his deftness, he flipped them over before she knows it and have her riding his swollen cock with his hands as a support for her whole body.

Gwen starts vigorously rocking herself onto Peter, riding and grinding into him as best she can to chase after another inevitable orgasm. She came again on top of him, biting her lips to brave Peter’s unstoppable fervor, she arched backward to make it more sensational for him with the adjusted angle. Feeling the delighted numbs of his rock-hard girth fighting against the shape of her walls elicits grunts and groans from both of them.

Without missing a beat, Peter plunged into her once more with reckless abandon, he moaned delightfully when he erupted inside the confine of his condom, transferring the heat and warmth of the ejaculation to her inner walls as Gwen shudders alongside him in her position lifted off the bed by Peter’s locked up arch of his lower body.

He slowly let himself and her down from the height of euphoria, both are totally spent after such an exertion. Gwen climbs off and snuggles up to his stretch arm as a pillow with her hand splayed atop his beating heart.

Looking down at his side, he gives her a dreamy grin before placing a kiss atop her damp tresses and keeping his nose there to breathe in her musky scent.

“Wow.” Gwen voiced out after a long silence.

“Super WOW.” Peter cheekily adds.

“Ugh!” she groaned out in jest as she craned her neck up to place a kiss under his jaw “You are lucky I like you.” Then she nuzzles the crook of his neck and drapes her arm across his chest, feeling the steady up and down of his breathing.

“Good to know.” He offers.

“Shut the hell up, Peter.” She chided him with a smile of contentedness, breathing in his musk and delighting in the cold of their touch when their sweats dried off.

“You got somewhere to be tomorrow morning?” Peter asks her after a while, drawing patterns with his finger on the small of her back.

“Not really.” Gwen replied with a yawn “Alessia might wonder where I am, but that can wait until dinner.” She tugs him in, nestling herself deeper into his warmer body. “You?”

He contemplates his choices; he can tell her yes as he might slip in some morning patrol like usual.

Or “Nah. I got an interview around 1 PM, though.” He decided; that at least a day without Spider-Man is fine, right? Not like there will be an alien invasion of New York if he takes a day off, but if so, the Avengers are nearby and have more firepower than his gadgets and webs.

“Oh?” Gwen keeps herself awake a bit more, to show him that she does care.

“Yeah. I sent an application form to RAC, they want to assess me tomorrow.” That put a glint into Gwen’s eyes, beaming at him and she quickly reached up to peck his cheek.

“Atta boy.” She offered and Peter took it with a grin, she patted his chest firmly and urged him to get up with her. “Shower. Now.” And he happily carried her on his back to their destination.

Chapter Text

III

- Swirling in Uncertainty -

“How can I help you, sir?” a stunning blonde at the reception greets him with a practiced and formal smile, eyes alternating between his nervousness and her screen.

“Um,” he begins with a cracked voice, composing himself and clearing his throat before starting again “I’m here for an internship interview with…” he calls the information via EDITH “Miss Takeda?” he shoots a quavering tightlipped smile at her.

“Julia should be inside room F4 waiting for you, Mister Parker.” The receptionist looks up from her screen after a moment, smiling at him, her eyes scan over him quickly, and notices something “Your button was undone.” She points at his midriff section and Peter curses quietly at it.

“Thank you, miss.” Peter shoots an appreciative smile at her with a little nod of his head. But before he can reach the elevator, she calls out for him, he turns around to meet her more genuine smile.

“Susan Storm.” The name sounds familiar to him, he keeps pondering his mental archive while she makes her way towards the same elevator as him. “Doctor, Susan Storm.” She offered him a hand and Peter audibly yelped out as a realization hit him.

“Oh! Uh, nice to meet you, doctor! Sorry, I thought you were a receptionist back there!” Peter sheepishly apologizes to her while lightly shaking her offered hand.

“What gives? A pretty face?” she inquired with a smirk and playful manner.

“Yeah…pretty much.” He shoots an apologetic smile her way, smoothing his hair out of nervousness and embarrassment. “Sorry again, for that, ma’am.”

“I might take offense if you keep calling me that, Mister Parker.” Her cold tone was only betrayed by her barely contained grin at his panicking expression. “You can call me Susan, or Doctor Storm if you want to be all formal and business-like.”

They stood side by side, with Susan acting casually while leaning on a railing and Peter rigidly fidgeting with the straps of his backpack. The elevator rides up the cables in gradual upward velocity accompanied by the sounds of mechanisms by the uncomfortable silence on Peter’s part.

“I really like your TED episode.” Peter offers.

“Oh?” Susan voiced her intrigue.

“Yeah. The part about nanomachine applications was really insightful!” he said with a more relaxed posture and mild excitement “It helped me with a project I used to enroll ESU, actually.” He continued as the ‘ding’ from the elevator announced itself and both strides out together, heading to the room aforementioned by Susan at the reception.

“You do microengineering?” the doctor asks as they are nearing the interview room. Peter stops and fully turns his attention towards her.

“Engineering major, but I took some, yeah.” Peter answered with his genuine smile, some sort of notification seemed to go off as he quickly recomposed himself and cleared his throat “I should get inside, can’t have Miss Takeda waiting on me, right?” he looked at her and saw a smile forming on the beautiful scientist’s lips.

“Yes, you should.” She replied and waved him goodbye, but before he could enter the room she stopped him “Good luck, Peter.” And places a firm hand on his shoulder to reassure and calm his nerves down.

“Thanks!” he exclaims as she is about to part ways with him “Have a nice day, Doctor Storm!” and return a wave at her.

Susan chuckles softly to herself, making a mental note to do superficial research on this potential new talent. An airlock opens a way into her personal lab and the sight of the man hovering over a terminal inside brightens her day.

“Mister Richards?” Susan greeted him from the side as she made herself known to the focused man.

“Oh! I’m sorry for the intrusion, Doctor Storm.” Reed Richards, founder and CEO of RAC and also a brilliant inventor, apologizes to her with a tightlipped smile that does not quite reach the eyes.

“Normally I would call a security, but they work for you anyway.” She teased him with a quirked eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. She regards his posture and the wall of codes displayed on the screen for a moment before retreating to her desk, opening up a laptop to resume her work from last night. “What’s the occasion, mister Richards? Or did you just feel like snooping around your employee’s research just for fun?” she said with a little smirk and glanced at him from across the staging area.

“You remember when we talked about Nathaniel?” he questioned her and resumed what he was doing before she was here. The name piqued her interest nonetheless, as that day was one of the memorable ones where Reed Richards, the greatest mind of our time, embarrassed himself in front of her with endearing nervousness.

“Your grandfather?” she teased.

“No! The AI that I was developing.” Reed exclaims with a groan “I wanted it to integrate into the whole system here and assist the researchers with analyzing multiple samples simultaneously. Nothing too advanced like that Ultron Stark created, which almost annihilates a small country, I just need a simple aide to maximize our work hours and cut times for new projects.” Reed elaborated while never taking his eyes off the screen, fingers tapping various keys under seconds while mumbling codes to himself; he’s a workaholic and often disregards himself as evidenced by the bags under his eyes and the mess he calls his hair, not to mention the mismatch slippers he wears.

“When was the last time you ACTUALLY nap or sleep?” a concern laced her question, brows furrowed as her eyes took note of his apparent physical state.

“Two, or three nights ago. I can’t really remember.” Reed shrugged his shoulder at her like it’s not the most idiotic thing a person could be doing to themselves.

“You are going to kill yourself at this rate, Mister Richards. For a smart man, you are really dumb.” Susan contorted, standing up from her chair and approaching him with a set of headphones. Placing it lightly in his peripheral vision, Reed made a quizzical noise as if to ask her about the specifics.

“A prototype of Sleep Assist we talked about weeks ago; the one that NASA contacted RAC to develop for their coming deep-space programs?” she inquired about his supposedly impeccable mind; that is if most of his neural cells are not deteriorated yet due to his lack of self-perseverance. “I modded it with sensory simulations, thinking I should do a test run before upgrading anything further. And you are the best suicidal candidate I have at the moment.” She jokingly clapped her hands together like some comedic villain in a show.

“Maybe I would,” Reed let out a clearly tired chuckle at that, taking the headset and slinging it around the back of his neck, stifling a yawn making its way out of his throat. He returns his attention to the screen and says “Just need to make sure that everything goes smoothly after the reset.”

Terminals and screens loaded up, displaying a spinning logo of RAC on them with a loading bar indicating the percentage of the integration.

“Nate?” Reed voiced at the lab, eyes darting around slowly as if nervous. Susan crossed her arms over her chest looking expectantly at her boss.

“Yes, Reed?” a synthetic voice boomed from the PA system, eliciting a sigh of contentment from the man in question.

“Run a full diagnostic on Doctor Storm’s ongoing projects, I need you to localized here to assist her.” He ordered while linking his smartphone to the headset, making his way to the airlock.

“What should I do with the folder named ‘cat vids’, Reed?” The experimental AI inquired monotonously. Susan groans and makes her way back to her workstation while Reed lets out an amused chuckle.

“Leave it unattended, Nate, please?” Susan voiced her demand and the AI seemed to acknowledge it.

“Have fun!” Reed exclaimed from his retreating form and waved her goodbye. Susan returned the gesture.

“Estimation of your processing powers and limitations, Nathaniel?” she inquired after a moment of collecting her thoughts.

“Simply put; I can analyze 10 to 20 samples simultaneously, my access was restricted only to the RAC network and databanks, and also moderate communication with the public internet,” Nathaniel informed her, bringing up a UI showing graphs she couldn’t bother with.

So, like having five assistants but no sharing spaces? She mused to herself and grinned.

“Okay,” Susan starts “you take projects A34 to A37, I want full reports and notes in an hour from now.” She commanded.

“Initiate analyzing.” It informed her and Susan hummed in response, meanwhile on her personal laptop she brought up search engines and had them pull up anything relating to the interviewed teen she met before.

“I was actually impressed, Mister Parker. Despite the lack of self-confidence and socializing, your technical and engineering prowess are promising.” Julia Takeda said as she finished up with his interview notes on her tablet. “Are you sure you can’t demonstrate more of your invention to me and the board?” her question sounded challenging and her eyes glinted expectation, but of what kind he is not certain.

“I did that once at ESU, in my midterm exam, and it ended up on some retired professor’s portfolio, so…” he scratches the back of his neck. Miss Takeda only chuckled in return and clapped her hands once while standing up from her seat.

“Excellent, at least you do have some experience in that field.” She approached the nervous and hopeful student in front of her, offering him a hand to shake, he took it in a firm grip.

“So…”

“We will be in contact after I have presented this interview with the board, but between you and me?” she leans in closer, her breath tickling the side of his neck from their proximity “…I’d say welcome to the team, Mister Parker.” She then pats him firmly on his shoulder and gestures for him to follow her out of the room.

He had a grin plastered on his face the whole trek to the elevator, Takeda was about to accompany the ride down but got called by Doctor Storm from her lab.

“Duty calls, I guess.” Julia Takeda shot a hand to him again, and this time hers lingered a bit longer “Call me Julia, hm?” Peter let out a nervous chuckle at the touch but kept it civil.

“Sure, um, I’m Peter?” he responded, and she made an amused grin.

“You are adorable,” she exclaimed and started her way towards Susan’s intrigued form “Looking forward to working with you, Peter!” she chirped and then waved him goodbye while the elevator doors slid close.

“What was that?” Susan asks as she examines the general maintenance report handed to her by Julia; unbeknownst to most outside of RAC employees, Julia Takeda is the senior technician of bio labs that littered the whole fourth floor.

“Just being friendly,” Takeda replied with a mischievous smile. She saw Susan Storm skim through her reports as routinely as one can, stopping here and there on some sensitive equipment conditions.

“That would have worked on my idiot brother, Jule, not me.” Susan finished with a satisfying look on her barren face, handing the tablet back to her conversation partner of the moment. “It’s either he's too cute for you to pass up, or the interview went too well; I really hope it was the latter one.”

“Self-learning GED in Engineering and Biochemistry. Enrolled Empire States Uni with 98.94 points on both.” Julia elaborated her notes for Susan, which immediately gained the renowned Biochemist’s attention “Records of High school internship with Stark Industries, specialized in Microengineering, and get this; personally under the tutelage of the one and only Tony Stark, even got a photo as proof.” Takeda shows the digital watermarked copy of that goofy Peter and annoyed Tony putting up an upside-down certificate. “What a dork…” Julia mumbled to herself with a tiny smile.

“Bold claims.” Susan stored the information inside her mental archive while studying her sort-of friend’s expression “I hope you are not biased with his application?”

“Doctor Storm!” Julia feinted a gasp, with palm on her chest and all, looking at the blonde with wide eyes “Are you suggesting that I might tampered with his interview because he was cute and smart and quite funny to tease?!?”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“Please, Sue,” Julia said with a shake of her head and a fond smile plastered her lips “Have I ever done something so compromising and unprofessional since we have known each other? Your brother Johnny basically offered to buy me jewelry to get a position, and I didn’t even consider him for an assistant technician.” She places her hands on her hips and cocked it sideways.

“He can be obnoxious. So, that didn’t really say much.” Susan teased her still, and Julia groaned without frustration.

“I can forward the vid for you in advance, or would you rather examine it with the rest of the board tomorrow? Mister Parker did show interest in your works.”

“Not just ‘Peter’?” the doctor teased and earned a playful glare.

“I would like to keep it private.”

“Wow, so forward.”

“Zip it, Storm.”

His phone vibrates as he walks along the streets, heading towards Jerry’s pizzeria to grab some fuel for a short patrol. Snatching it out of his trousers he sees Gwen’s number and opens the chat with an uncontrollable grin.

>>> how was it, nerdboy?

<<< seems promising! I ran into Doctor Storm, too! So cool

>>> Susan Storm!!? The one talking about nanomachines in spacefaring and medical application SUSAN STORM?!

He chuckled a bit at that, and practically heard Gwen squeaking the message out.

<<< yep

>>> fucking tell me you didn’t embarrass yourself in front of her dude??

<<< about that…

>>> PETE!

<<< I might have mistaken her for a receptionist a bit

>>> lol

<<< give me some slack, Gwen, she was at a reception looking pretty

>>> PRETTY, huh? W O W, can’t believe you have already forgotten me after ONE night, Casanova much???

<<< very funny

>>>  🤪

<<<  😘

>>> come over tonight? Got some work for you to look at????

<<< should I come bearing gifts and tributes, milady?

>>> your heart should be enough, ser Parker

<<< so cheesy

>>>  😉

<<< I’ll get something from Hobie’s, any orders?

>>> ooh! I ❤ ️ his special number 3!!

<<< see ya around 8PM?

>>> perfect!

He caught himself smiling into the screen like a dazed idiot, but he liked it.

“Peter?” EDITH shows her render on his phone after a moment.

“What’s up, Edi?”

“Reminder about a scheduled meeting with DD and JJ around 7 PM.” The AI chirped out with her synthetic voice directly through the earpiece.

Oh, yeah. Almost forgot about that.

He landed on a billboard overshadowing Daredevil and Jessica Jones with practiced ease, which startled the grumpy PI a little; evident in her collection of profanities she gritted under her breath.

“Evening, y'all!” he greeted them with a lighthearted tinge in his voice and Matt caught it with a tiny grin.

“Party went well?” The devil asked and Peter looked sideways onto the grim alleys around them.

“Yeah!” His voice cracked a little.

“Huh,” Jessica looked at him with a smirk “Terrifically well, I’d say?”

The Spider actually exudes embarrassment and shyness as he keeps his aperture lens on anywhere but the pair of fellow vigilantes.

“Stress relieved?” the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen teased and Peter groaned.

“Yeah, yeah! Can we get back to crime fighting?” Peter is practically begging them with his palms against each other.

“Fine, fine,” Jessica concedes with a knowing smirk still clinging to her lips “We can gossip another time.”

“Not happening, Miss Jones.”

“Aww, did the little spider get laid last night?”

“Please??”

“Alright, alright. Teasing you is funnier than trying to joke with bat-ear over here, though.” The PI surrendered with her hands up and jabbed her elbow towards Matt, which he evaded effortlessly.

“Since when are we out at night to joke around??” Matt asked.

“This is Friday! It’s girls night!” Jessica exclaimed with her signature grin, which Matt groaned in response while Peter chuckled from his perch.

“What are we looking for?” Spider-Man asked and Jessica produced a photograph out of her jacket, handing it to Matt and he threw it accurately in front of Spider-Man.

“One of Fisk’s higher-ups, I spotted him a few nights ago at Randy’s bar. Don’t know why some of them came out of their caves, but it sure is nothing good.” The investigator informed him as he inspected the photo of a gruff-looking man with a stocky build, a scar running down the left side of his face.

“Got a name?” Matt asked her and Jessica shrugged her shoulders.

“Still looking into it. He’s not those famous ones you and Pajama there took out on a regular basis, he’s more careful and dangerous.” She offered them.

“Description, Spider-Man?” Daredevil turned his question directly toward the red-and-blue menace.

“Estimate about 6 feet and 3 inches tall. About 200 to 240 pounds, roughly. Have scars on his face, so a relatively active and fit guy.” He provided a physical examination for Daredevil due to his impaired vision but the man made up for it by categorizing a person’s individual heartbeats based on this information. It’s quite unbelievable if he didn’t witness it himself on one of their joint operations.

“He smoked?” He asked Jessica, who had a more personal encounter.

“Nope. But motherfucker gulping whiskey like tap water.” Jessica answered.

Daredevil nodded his head in deep thought, categorizing this individual into his mind.

“Edi?” Peter talked to his AI, bringing a few UI elements up.

“Still cross-referencing the scan with criminal records related to Wilson Fisk’s syndicates and organizations.” A small rendition of Edith’s new face pops up. “Without access to Spider-Surveillance and Avengers satellites, this would take some time.” He hums an acknowledgment at that.

“Any luck?” Matt asked while Jessica observed the masked vigilante, outside of Matt, interaction with his too-advanced tech for simple crime fighting in New York.

“My hardware is not top of the line, so it will take some time.” Peter informed them and saw Matt nod while Jessica just quirked an eyebrow at him “What?”

“What the fuck are you doing around here with that kind of brain and techs, kid? I would have been living like a retired expat by now if I got those.” Jessica declared with an incredulous look on her face.

“I can’t.” Peter spread his arms around and gestures towards their surroundings “This city needs me.”

“Suicidal and savior-complex. Fits right in, damn it.” Jessica blew her stray hair away from her face. “I thought one like that with Horny here was enough to last a lifetime of headache.” She jerked her thumb in Matt’s direction and received a groan.

“I hate that nickname.” He mooted but Jessica laughed.

“Well, you got horns.”

“So, what should we do in the meantime? Some recons?” Peter inquired after he made sure that he rerouted Edith’s processing power towards the task at hand.

“Us? We have some warehouses to check. But you don’t actually have to stay and help, go and be a horny teenager somewhere else.” Jessica mimicked a ‘shoo’ with her mouth and hands, a grin spread across her face at the amount of satisfaction she gained from teasing this new addition to their little group of local vigilantes.

“I’m twenty!” the Spidey whined with his lens narrowed and a groan escaped his mask, much to Jessica’s delight.

“Alright; go be horny young adult somewhere else.” She also shooed him like before.

“It’s fine, Spider-Man, keep us updated on that man, okay?” Matt said after a fit of chuckles.

“But...”

“I can punch through concrete, and Horny can hear ants gossips. We are fine.” She keeps shooing him but Peter stays perched.

Peter then snatched four of his web grenades out of their hidden pockets around the small of his back, tossing them towards Jessica, which she caught gracefully.

“What are these?” Jessica looks at the spherical objects in her hand with curiosity.

“Web grenades. Throw it hard at something and the webs will cover about 14 feet across a spherical area.” Jessica whistled at his explanation.

“As I said; the fuck are you doing around here?” she gave two of them to Matt while keeping a look of confusion towards Peter.

“Gotta help the little guys!” Spidey then leaps off the metal frame into the air above, shooting a strand of web to a nearby building, and starts his pendulum movement.

“That kid…” Jessica starts.

“He got a good heart.” Matt offered.

“Yeah, but his naivety will be biting his ass someday.” Jessica sighed out.

He stopped about two muggings on his way to Hobie’s and helped a kid with her rogue balloon which earned him a strawberry lollipop.

“About mark 3 ideas,” Edith started as he finished packing his Spidey suit into his spare backpack, webbing it inside a gap behind a cable tray.

“Yes?”

“Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to redesign the housing units for nanites? We can certainly make them more integrated and serve multiple purposes at the same time.” Edith brought up the layout, highlighting the areas she mentioned.

“What’s wrong with utility belt?” Peter asked while his brain ran multiple improvements for the suit.

“Deficiency in mobility and flexibility. Provides no additional benefits. And not cool.” The last part elicited a snort out of him.

“Utility belts are cool.” Peter protested.

“Not for Spider-Man.” Edith insisted.

“Alright. Make notes, I’ll review them later.” Peter said and Edith agreed.

“Not tonight, that’s for sure.” Edith chirped.

“Hibernation initiate.” Peter groaned and Edith was forced to comply.

A few minutes later he reached Gwen’s apartment building, significantly looking better than his. He had been here on occasions in the past months; Gwen’s and her friends’ projects, Movie nights with her little brother visits, once or twice he even had conversations with Captain Stacy himself (awkward the first time, but ultimately Gwen’s dad was a chill guy outside of his work).

His free hand pressed the intercom and a few moments later Gwen’s voice rang out.

“Password?”

“Hobie’s special number 3,” Peter answered with a grin, looking up at the small camera.

“Correct!” she exclaimed and buzzed the door for him.

He navigates the hallways and elevator like it was his own apartment, and soon found himself standing in front of Gwen’s door. He knocked lightly and heard footsteps approaching.

“Hey, you,” Gwen greets him with her sweet grin, leaning forward to peck his lips and hook her index at his shirt’s collar. She led him inside and locked the door before returning to the small and cozy living area where papers and notes sprawled across the entirety of the carpet.

“Well, that’s a lot of work.” He commented lightheartedly while setting their dinners on her kitchen table. Gwen’s arms circled his waist from behind as she pressed her body against his, eliciting a yelp and a chuckle from him.

“I’m soooo fucking tired, dude.” She mumbled into the back of his shirt, relishing the dense muscles and warmth that emanated from his being.

Peter turned himself around, still ensnared by her arms, and put his chin on top of her head. Humming a contend sigh as he returns the hug.

“Whiney baby.” He joked.

“Look who’s talking.” She retorted with a smirk.

“Dinner?” He inquired as their embrace loosened a bit, but still encircled each other.

“I could eat a cow right now.” Gwen chirped and took her seat, then started unpacking her food with deft fingers.

“Please do, I wanna see it.” He replied and took a seat beside hers, scooting a bit closer as he unwrapped his.

“Ew?” she made a face with horror in her eyes, in jest as to insinuate a fetish he did not have.

“Not like that!”

They shared a laugh and a quiet dinner for a while.

“How’s Doctor Storm?” she asked after she cleaned up the bags and packages, washing her hands and returning to the living area where Peter sitting cross-legged looking through some of her notes. Ever the acolyte.

“We talked less than a minute,” he shot her a grin and a ridiculous look on his face.

“I mean how did she look like? Is she cool?” Gwen sat across from Peter, continuing with what she was inspecting before he came.

“Definitely cool!” he replied with excitement clouding his posture “I wish you could see her lab! Latest equipment, terminals, stacks of folders, and rows of samples!”

“Really selling it, you. Did you apply for PR instead of lab assistant?”

“You gotta see it for yourself, Gwen, Reed Richards is certainly not stingy with his money.” Kinda like Mister Stark, he mused solemnly but with a smile.

“Let’s make a note to check if we can pay each other a visit. I mean RAC and Oscorp are literal rivals right now.” Gwen shrugged.

“Yeah,” he trailed off as a realization kicked “Actually…” he took out his visor from himself and put it on Gwen when he leaned over her.

Her confused look made him giggle a little, admiring her cute features was one of his guilty pleasures back when things weren’t so intimate between them.

“Edi?” he called for the AI, and Gwen squealed in surprise and delight as the sight behind his glasses showed multiple UI and Edith’s rendered face.

“Yes, Pet—oh, Hi Gwen?” Edith’s face seems a little confused by the fact that she is dealing with Gwen rather than Peter as usual.

“Oh, I’m so going back to wear glasses if you let me keep this.” Gwen looks at him with hopeful puppy eyes.

“Very interesting offer, but I need more time to finish her first,” Gwen gasps and fakes a hand on her chest “You know what I mean!” he chuckles alongside her.

“Hoarder!” she accused him playfully as she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Edith?”

“Yes, Gwen?”

“Can you find any rules or regulations against Oscorp’s intern and Richards Aerospace Corp’s intern visiting each other inside work hours?” she said to the AI inside Peter’s glasses and her face lit up when Edith started the search immediately while simulating her avatar reading and rifling through shelves and books “Dude, you are too much!” Gwen exclaims with excitement.

“I’m starting to think you slept with me to steal Edith now.” He feinted a suspicious glare at her while rubbing his chin as if in deep thought, Gwen gasped with a wide grin and flung an old research of Doctor Connor’s genetic treatment at his face.

“You dick!” she exclaimed with a fake hurt expression.

“I would gladly change ownership to you, just saying.” Edith chirped in between their teasing.

“Edi!” Peter gasped.

“Hah! Two on one, Parker! You are defeated!” Gwen rolled some documents into a makeshift baton and pointed it at Peter’s face with a smirk of triumphant.

“Over my dead body!” Peter quietly roared as he maneuvered himself to playfully tackle her onto the carpet, pinning her on her back inside his arms.

Her tee lifted up a bit from the motion, exposing her belly to him, taking advantage without thinking twice, Peter dived in and tickled and blew raspberry on her stomach. Gwen writhes between her cackles and squeals at his attacks.

“Pete!” she called him out between giggles “I’m ticklish!”

“Good to know!” he replied but never relented.

“Unhand me, you villain!” she managed to deliver a coherent sentence between her giggles and writhes, quite an impressive feat.

“Hah! The princess begs for mercy, yet the monster heed not her plea!” he delivered it in a gruff and gravel tone, keeping a constant alternation between tickling her left and right sides.

To his surprise, Gwen managed to snake her legs around his torso and seemed to attempt an escape from this embrace of death.

He, on the other hand, got experience with leg locks more time than he liked to count back when he was still a trainee for the Avengers. Countering it was quite too easy with an inexperienced practitioner like Gwen, but in his infinite wisdom, he decided to maneuver them so that Gwen is now straddling his abdomen with huffs of ragged breathing and joyful tears rimming her eyes. She cupped his face and glared into his eyes, trying to look intimidating but failed due to her uncontained grin.

“Oh, my! How the turn tabled!”

“Idiot…” Gwen's sultry tone breathed it out over his grinning face as she lowered herself towards him, keeping his face firmly trapped between her hands.

The kiss was slow and sweet, her scents overwhelmed his nose, and her petite frame was pressed nicely on top of him. Gwen moaned into their locked lips as Peter took a stab of his tongue, she answered his wordless question with an opening and they danced again.

She stops with a bite on his lower lip, smirking down at him when she sees the fire engulfing his brown eyes.

“And the princess defeated the monster, the kingdom knew peace once again.” She continued his tale while relishing the feelings of his hands roaming her hips and her waist, she loves the tracing of her spinal cord at her lower back the most and Peter seems to committed that to heart.

“How is this possible?” he whispered to himself, but without any pollution, Gwen was able to discern his question anyway. She placed a hand on his chest and lay herself down on top of him, playfully scratching the underside of his stubble chin.

“Odds are slim, but you did hit the jackpot.” She kisses him again, intending to clear any doubt off his mind.

The specialized weaving patterns is the trick here; this is a dress one must wear in this line of work to avoid any security monitoring.

Hiding in shadows, as always, eyes trained to focus on movements and any sources of light in the vicinity.

Creeping in closer and closer as time went by, leaping from rooftop to rooftop while avoiding any prying eyes or ears to the activity one shouldn’t be doing at night.

Oscorp has always been blatant about its supposedly secretive laboratory, opting to use transparent reinforced glasses rather than enclosed cement.

Entrances are varied, from vents to strutting in through the front, given the right circumstances and if you play the cards at the opportune time.

Some rookies might decide to slip in at this moment after detecting apparent no security, convincing themselves to do a quick in-and-out with some equipment or electronics, but not a professional.

One would not thrive in the underworld filled with opportunists and backstabbers by being impulsive and careless, predators always pounce when the time is right.

A beeping sound from an earpiece inside a helmet disrupted the focus but answered immediately after a second chime.

“Scouting.” Simple as they go for a report.

“Remind me, what is on the list?” the deep and commanding voice on the other side will send chills down anyone’s spine.

“Containers; A76 through B12.” Answered the recon.

“Despite their sturdy containers, I expect you will delivered without any damages.” The command left no room for negotiation.

“If you keep to my requirements, we won’t have any problem, Mister F.” the tone replied sounds challenging and irritated.

“I won’t tolerate failures and incompetence.”

“Likewise.” The line cut.

“Soon.” Said the perpetrator with a modulated voice.

The shadow retreated after another hour of memorizing.

Gwen awakens to a vacant bed beside her.

Groggily groaned in frustration as she made her way towards the fridge, searching blindly for water to satiate her thirst.

Faint sirens can be heard, indicating something happening somewhere. Typical of New York these days.

Looking down at herself, a sense of satisfaction mixed with prior disappointment.

His shirt, one that he wore earlier, clung to her body with some misplaced buttons. A tiny smile crept onto her face recalling the eve of the night.

Looking around, her eyes fell on a familiar eyewear, lessening her anger a little, but bringing forth another question; where did he go?

She was not expecting him to stay with her all night through dawn after some sex, but it still hurt that he left in her sleep.

Waddling silently towards his glasses on a nightstand, she picked it up and put it on, assuring herself that it was truly just a piece of eyewear and not prescription glasses. Feeling both legs to look for any bump and press down on it.

“Edith?” her question came out a bit quavered, unsure of how to really feel about his absence at the moment. The UI lit up and the rendered face of the AI greeted her with a smile.

“Yes, Gwen?” chirped out a miraculous invention of her sort-of-date.

“You happen to know where Pete is?” chiding herself internally for being so clingy already, expectantly waiting in the hope that he would at least inform his AI of his destination.

Praise be to any cyber gods there is, that AI can’t be nervous or panicking, Edith immediately sent her a smile “Some urgent business in southern Harlem. He left about an hour ago.”

“What kind?” work? Some late-night call?

“I’m not capable of saying.”

“What?”

“Peter did not share the specifics with me.”

Gwen bit her lower lip in confusion, sitting down on her messy sheets with a huff.

Maybe he got off to some emergency?

Maybe someone needs his help with something?

Is a friend too drunk to leave a bar?

Or someone else requests his attention at this hour?

She’s not one to be a shrew or possessive of an unclear relationship like this; sure, they fucked a few times, but she’s still not sure if any of them are ready to commit to anything beyond that.

He's a nice guy and a good friend, and for months she got closer to him.

He was just an interesting smart guy who argued with Professor Randall on genetics that one study group she attended.

She liked him, that much is certain; she’s not the type to have a fling on whims, let alone sleep with her dates easily.

Confident votes from her dad and mom also complicated things further after that dinner. Seems like her dad took a liking to this rambling nerdy guy she brought home a couple of times, even if in those instances they are just friends.

Would Peter enter a relationship with her?

She knows enough about his personal life and how he was raised to hope he would plunge headfirst blindly into that; his parents instilled something better than that into him.

He could be the type of guy to be afraid to even start one, seeing himself not ready financially or whatever. A gentleman out of time, one might say.

Of course, that is one of the reasons she wants something with him. An alluring quality that he possesses that not many appreciate.

Groaning, she lay flat on the mattress that their shared warmth still clings, breathing in the faded scent he left within.

Startled by a sudden creak of a window outside of her bedroom, Gwen shot up with adrenaline coursing rapidly through her system. Creeping from her bed to the wall that separates, she listens in to the intruder’s movement that navigates themselves through her living area.

“Call 911, possible BnE,” Gwen whispered to the AI, taking precautions as her principal.

“Calling.”

The intruder seems to be muttering something under his breath.

Ruffles.

Searching for something?

Is this just a regular theft or something more sinister if they discover that there is a woman here?

Looking around her vicinity, her eyes fall upon a lifesaver at the foot of her bed; an aluminum bat she got from a souvenir shop her dad took her to after a game some years ago.

Sometimes, being sentimental is a good thing.

Firmly gripping the weapon in her hands, she presses her back to the left side of her door, awaiting the incoming threat if the intruder decides to be curious and greedier than they should be.

The knob turns, quietly as if beware of a sleeping occupant, and is carefully pushed inward. Gwen holds her breath and raises the aluminum sports gear higher to gain more room to swing, aiming approximately at head level.

“Man, that was soooo random.” the intruder’s whine entered the enclosed space of her bedroom as his head made it past the frame of the door, her arms released the coiled muscles on instinct immediately; Yuri’s self-defense sessions were ingrained as intended. Wait…that voice sounds familiar?

A yelp of surprise can be heard in Peter’s voice as the bat made contact, fortunately with his waiting palm than the side of his head. Gwen let out a horrifying shriek, thinking that she mistakenly beat her lover’s head in.

“Pete!?” Gwen cried out in panic and released the bat as if electricity ran through it.

“Whoa, there! Almost took my head off!” he exclaimed with a stupid grin, but a shock evident in his posture.

“You-" Gwen starts with a choke “What?!”

“Thought you were sleeping! I just got back from Mister Cage’s house.” He clarified with half a lie; Luke Cage requested his help with something, but before they could do anything there was a fire and both had to evacuate trapped residences before the Fire brigade arrived. Also, Spidey suit mk-2 did not insulate him from smokes, which cling to his body and now he smells like a barbeque redneck on a holiday, minus the spices. “Sorry if I spooked you, really!” he shoots her an apologetic grin.

“Fuck, Pete!” She cursed under her breath while approaching him, inspecting and noticing soot and first-degree burnt marks on his exposed skin. Her eyes widened in shock at this, her concerns from before dissipated almost immediately, and searching his face for answers.

“Oh! Um… there’s a fire and I…” he trailed off, wincing a little at the grip strength of Gwen’s palms that were now framing his face in them.

“FIRE!? You fucking endangered yourself?! What were you thinking?” she hissed at him with a bewildered look on her face, brows furrowed.

“It’s alright.” He tried to reassure her with a smile; didn’t work, if her offended look said anything about that attempt.

“Shut it and wait for me in the kitchen!” she ordered him, and Peter knew her long enough to comply. Gwen presses her back to her bedroom wall and takes deep breaths, calming her racing heart down unsuccessfully. Dragging her palms down her face with a groan of frustration, she heads to the bathroom and quickly snatches a kit out of its place. Making her way back towards a very nervous Peter sitting on one of her diner chairs, her hard glare never wavers.

“Um, Gwe—” she cut him off with a very firm ‘thud’ as she practically slammed the plastic box down on the wooden table.

“Zip it.” She demanded, and he nods.

The uncomfortable silence falls over them as Gwen silently empties the content onto the wooden surface; gauzes, disinfectants, bandages, some remedies, and such.

“Show me all of them. Now.” She commanded with a seething coldness that chilled his spine, and he discarded his clothing immediately.

“It’s really nothing,” he tried again after most of his burnt marks got treated, and now Gwen seemed to calm down a little.

“Are you fucking trying to downplay your injuries right now? Really?” she asked with a quirked eyebrow, fire still blazing behind those sapphire orbs.

“Well,” he started, but found no appropriate responses rather than outright telling her of his nocturnal activity, which is not ideal, he shut up once again.

“What the fuck happened? And don’t lie to me, Peter Parker, or I will kick you in your nuts.” The statement sounded so sincere he subconsciously squeezed his thighs to guard his family jewel.

“You remember Mister Cage? Isaiah Cage? An elderly I’m responsible for with Gerome’s Senior Cares?” he questioned her and Gwen seemed to surf through her mental drive a little before nodding her head, allowing him to continue, “He called about an hour ago, told me he felt uncomfortable and can’t breathe. So, I kinda rushed there to check on him, he just forgot to take his medicines before going to bed. Then a fire started at his apartment, and I had to help him get out of the building.” Not an entire lie on his part; except for the elderly charge of his that did not exist, Isaiah Cage was just an alias Luke and himself agreed upon for any cover story he might need.

“By yourself?” her question comes, but her agitation and confusion are replaced by concerns.

“Luckily Spider-Man and Luke Cage came to the rescue!” trying so hard not to oversell it to her; Gwen has a knack for detecting the body language of liars, anyway. Besides, as Black Widow always preached; the best lie is the bent truth.

Just then, right on cue, Edith shows her the news of Spider-Man and Harlem invincible man’s saving people from a burning apartment alongside firemen who just got on the scene. Her features softened with a deep sigh released through her nose, Gwen stood up from her seat and approached him.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, just…it all happened too fast…” he pleaded again, unsure of what was going on with them at the moment. Gwen gingerly put her palms on his shoulder and lowered herself towards him, enveloping him in an embrace and placing her head in the crook of his neck with a sigh.

“Glad you are okay…” she whispered between them. Shaken slightly at the relief that coursed through her; both from seeing him in no harm and from his return, contradicting her earlier fear.

He said nothing but turned his face slightly to plant a reassuring kiss on her temple, one arm snaked its way around her back and drew her closer.

“Sorry for not waking you up.” He whispered after a while, still taking advantage of the comfort her being made him feel from their positions, if a little numb.

“Whatever.” She mumbled into his neck.

“I’ll make it up to you, yeah? Gelato?” he offered a truce and chuckled softly at her perkiness as soon as he mentioned the iced treat.

“You better not bail on that!” she jabs her index into his left cheek, pressing firmly to ensure he understands.

“Scout’s honor!” he mocked a salute and received a push on the side of his head that was accompanied by her giggle.

“Go take a shower, I won’t cuddle a smelly you.”

“Ouch!” he feinted a hand on his chest, just for her to roll her eyes at his dramatic flair. “Why dressing wounds before a shower though?” he inquired with a quizzical expression.

“Just to be careful; some infection might settle if we wait longer.” She clarified.

“A scientist and a nurse. Lucky me!” he sang a little serenade for her as he skipped towards the bathroom after a quick detour for a towel in her bedroom. A laugh escaped his lips as a scrunched gauze packet hit him on his back.

Treating his fleshly clean injuries again took no time at all, and they retreated onto her bed after a small talk later with Peter draping an arm around her waist, resting his palm on her belly, and lulled her into slumber with his breathing and warmth.

“Connors!” Norman Osborn boomed his voice into the confined of an underground lab, looking for his lead geneticist.

“I’m here, Mister Osborn!” the renowned scientist responds.

A man can even be intimidating in a dress shirt and slacks, Curtis will give him that. His dim fiery hair and piercing emerald eyes invade the staging area with the determined posture of the ambitious businessman.

“How’s the project so far? I need some results if I am to convince the board about continuing funding for this.” He gestured towards the surrounding lab equipment, guinea pigs, and research terminals. After so little in progression, he overheard some of the shareholders discussing a new venue to invest in rather than this revolutionary thing he and Curtis Connors poured their lives into.

“Subjects 5 and 7 show promising signs! Look,” he brings up surveillances on the aforementioned experiment, live feeds of two guinea pigs with biomass growth present on their respective amputated limbs.

“Finally!” A glint of hope lightened up in Norman’s green irises, alternating their gazes between the two subjects.

“But the compatibility with homo-sapiens genetic structure is still…concerning, to put it mildly.” The next window brought up shows accelerated footage of what appears to be human tissue cells labeled as ‘sample_3G’ at the lower left corner. “We need a more efficient way to sort human DNA to even start introducing the more potent version, lest we risk uncontrollable growth.”

“Cancer, simply put?”

“Essentially.” Curtis sighed in frustration, placing his glasses on the table.

“But barring the cons,” Norman continues “have you estimated the probability of successful cellular regeneration? In human, I mean.” Norman averted his gaze from the screen with a flickering of hope.

“Theoretically speaking?” at that, Norman nods “I’d say…roughly 49% of succession rate.” Doctor Connors turns his eyes towards the screen “I’m talking complete regeneration in approximately 3 months in an average specimen around 20-35 years of age! In adolescents younger than that is even better, considering their stem cells quantity differential compared to older specimens.” He finished with a smile.

Hope ; a dangerous little thing that can build civilization, or crumble a kingdom.

“If those ethics were not in the way…” Norman mumbled under his breath, brows furrowed in deep woe.

“They are there for reasons, Mister Osborn, you should understand that.” Connors reminded him out of concern; Norman Osborn is a good man, but he still worries about how far the ambition of such a powerful man is willing to go.

“I know. But, think about it, Connors, how many advancements we could have achieved if science and those who love it are freed from their leashes.” Those emerald eyes shine dimly as if harboring a smoldering coal within.

A long silence stretches itself inside the quarter of 7-foot thick walls.

“I need a summarized report by 9 AM. Be as simple but interesting as possible, and play to their intrigues and perverted hopes as much as you can. I will swoon them and keep this project going.” Norman Osborn finally averted his eyes towards the other man in the room.

“Understood, Mister Osborn.” Doctor Connors nods with a thoughtful expression.

“I admire your dedication, Connors, but you better be relaxing at the exhibition. Or I’m going to fire you.” The CEO mocked a stern expression with a grin at him, and the geneticist chuckled in response.

“See you later, sir.”

“Miss Stacy?” she whips her head around at the mention of her name, to find that her supervisor, Doctor Curtis Connors himself requested her assistance. Skimmed over her current analysis for another round, she hums with satisfaction and makes her way toward his station inside the genomic lab.

“Yes, doctor Connors?” she stands in front of him with her company-issued tablet in her hands, eyes widening in expectation as her body language exudes curiosity.

“Are you perhaps familiar with Richards Aerospace’s whereabouts?” the question caught her off-guard.

“Um, yes. I know their location. What is it, sir?” Gwen inquired after a moment of contemplation.

“Again with the ‘sir’,” Connors bemused quietly while shaking his head, and continuing with his agenda “I have something of use within their bio-chem lab. Susan Storm is actually an acquaintance of mine.” That information surprised her; two prominent scientists of rival companies are familiar with one another. Her train of thought was interrupted as he spoke again “I am borrowing some specialized equipment from her, personally, and I would like to know if you are able to retrieve it for me?” his expression turned quizzical, no hidden agenda nor challenges hidden behind those glasses as she first thought.

“Do I need some help in transporting it, or…”

“No. No, it is small and light enough for you to carry alone. I will call Francis for your trip if you agree?”

Gwen thinks about it for a moment, and sees this as an opportunity to meet one of her idols in person! She would have to be an idiot to not take the chance.

“Of course, doctor.” She replied, bringing a satisfied hum to him “Do I have to contact anyone inside when I get there?”

“Nope. Sue will know when you arrive.” The use of a nickname gains some intrigue from her. An old friend, or an old flame? The gossip-girl part of her brain won the battle, (albeit just briefly) then she nodded her head and made her way toward the elevator after clarifying the specifics with her supervisor.

Francis is a chatterbox, almost rival Spider-Man if she’s to be honest.

The ride was smooth and typical of New York's cramped traffic, so his constant conversation is somewhat appreciated.

“You heard the news? Spidey was at a fire last night, saved some folks from their death?” he asked and Gwen produced a knowing sound “That kid was weird for most times, but damn if he’s not a good one.” He finished as they started rolling off their latest traffic lights.

“My dad would’ve probably disagreed with you.” She said with a scrunched-up nose, eyes taking the scene from the roadside.

“He’s one of Jameson’s fans?”

“Ugh! Fortunately, no.” She objected with a groan; recalling some slanders and smearing campaigns against the Webhead since he became active brought some annoyance to her “He’s a police, a captain at that, maybe it was just him keeping PR, or maybe he is just concerned about Spidey’s safety. I don’t really know.”

“Yeah, he helped them out, the cops, but the amount of added paperwork should be enough reason.” Both cackled at his joke.

Her phone vibrates and Gwen takes it out to be greeted by Peter’s number showing up an unread message. Her lips curled into a smile as she unlocked it and was about to reply.

“Uh oh, someone interesting?” her driver teased from his seat, noticing her unhidden smile from the rearview mirror.

“Maybe.” She answered with a chuckle.

“Dang! Friendzoned again!” he protested jokingly, feinting a kicked puppy demeanor at her.

“Eyes on the road, mister!” she jabs back and starts texting.

>>> where r u?

<<< omw to RAC

>>> u know I don’t even start working there yet, right?

>>> missed me already? Awwwwwwww  😎

<<< keep dreaming, nerdboy!  😚

<<< dr Connors asked me to get something from dr Storm’s lab

>>> huh? What is it?

<<< idk

<<< maybe something related to genetic sequencer? We r working on DNA sequencing improvement right now

>>> cool!

>>> anyway, about that gelato….

<<< YOUR. NUTS. WILL. BE. CRUSHED….

>>> should I call a police on you? Would that even work with your dad being a cap’n?

<<< lol

<<< what about it?

>>> 7PM

>>> there’s a new shop near your place

>>> well?????

<<< fuck yeah!

<<<  😆

>>> see ya!

<<< ❤ ️

“Someone’s in loooooove~~.” Francis teased her again, and Gwen could not restrain her silly smile anymore.

“Shut up!” she giggled out.

“Must be one hell of a guy to swoon you so hard,” there is a genuine curiosity in there, as he wiggles his brows at her through the rearview mirror.

“Yeah…” she sighed, half in contending and half in contempt. The uncertainty swimming comfortably above her head regarding her and his relationship.

“What’s wrong? Hey, I may not be that older than you, kid, but I’m good at listening. Least, that's what my baby mama told me.” He offered her with a sincerity she could notice.

Gwen contemplates for a while as Francis takes them through traffic, still on their way to their destination.

“I don’t know,” she sighed again, with an uncertain look clouding the usually shining sapphires as she looked upon the crowded pedestals “I don’t know if both of us wanna put a label on this, he’s probably too worried about things, overthinking a lot. While I’m switching between decisions.” She laid it out and took a deep breath.

“Relationships aren’t math or science, kid, we can’t plan ahead or predict things in the future.” Francis said with an understanding look on his face “Tell you this; I was actually scared shitless when I wanna date Lizzie, she’s so pretty and I’m just dear ol’ me, you know?” he gestured at himself with exasperation “I really liked her, and I was afraid to disappoint her or will eventually do her wrong.”

“Oh, you actually doing her wrong right now, don’t worry,” Gwen interjected with a smirk, and Francis cackled.

“Smartass.” He retorted with a smile “One day, though, she walked in my face and asked me to try this thing with her. I was elated, you be sure about that, but my fears are still there. After some time, she might’ve noticed them on our dates somehow, and we had a talk. One of the long ones.”

“She said she knows that I was not fully sure of our relationship, and she thought it was because I’m still being a free bird or shit like that. But then I told her about those fears I have, and she said she doesn’t know if she can make them go away, but if I still wanna do this she will definitely try.” Francis got a big smile on his face “I still trying my hardest every day to be the man that she deserves, working my ass off, tired as fuck sometimes.” He chuckled, shaking his head in fondness “Seeing her sleeping, drooling on the sofa, and making a mess in our kitchen are the best moments of my life.” Francis finished with a hum.

“Thanks, Francis. I appreciate it.” Gwen said after a long and thoughtful consideration, something starting to form its foundation inside her.

“Anytime, kid.” He replied with a nod of his head.

“What’s the little shit’s name again? Yours or hers?” Gwen followed without any ill intent on her tease, which he received gladly.

“Sarah Allen, Liz actually threaten to strangle me if I refuse.” He answered lightheartedly and gained a giggle of fondness from her.

They arrived at the refurbished Avengers tower minutes later, Francis smoothly pulled the sedan to a stop and let her out of the transport.

“I’ll be around here. 10 minutes away, tops.” He informed her and drove off after Gwen waved at him from the revolving door.

She has been an admirer and a fan of Susan Storm since she got her dad and mom back from the Blib, after sorting out her and her brother’s return to custody to her family, Gwen took a liking to biology and science in general. Seeing many brilliant minds around the world join forces to fight the unknown future after the sudden fluctuation of populations is something.

Susan Storm, fleshly graduated from Harvard at the time, was able to eradicate Ebola and Mad cow disease from almost 85% of Earth’s population. Some of her joint research also help to ease the re-assimilation of the returned people following the sacrifice of the Avengers.

Some might protest about the polarity shift of the event, resulting in a crisis in resources and many ongoing problems for years to come, as they should. But you also can’t deny the morality benefits of being able to hold your folks in your arms again after years of their absences.

The receptionist, a woman a couple of years older than her with a fiery mane and cute face, greeted her with a formal smile as she approached the area.

“Afternoon, miss. How can I help you?”

“I…am from Oscorp, on doctor Curtis Connors’s behest? He told me Doctor Storm will be expecting our arrival.” Gwen said with a polite tone and a smile plastered on her bare face.

“Oh! Yes, Doctor Storm just informed me recently.” She casts her eyes down to the screen, darting in directions for information. “Your name?”

“Uh, Gwen Stacy, intern.” She replied, waiting for the checking process.

“Alright, everything seems to be in order here,” the receptionist looked up with a smile, as always, and pressed some hidden switch to activate an intercom “Curtis Connors’s assistant is here to meet you, Doctor Storm?”

“Send her up to my lab, Zasha, thanks.”

“Coming right up, Susan!” Zasha replied with a bubbly personality, indicating a level of familiarity they shared.

“Here’s your temp pass,” handed the mentioned item, Gwen clipped the card to her breast pocket “and sanitary facemask, also gloves.”

“Should I be worried?” Gwen asked in jest, putting the requirement on their respective places.

“Nah. They are just for safety purposes and precautions. Mister Richards is a bit paranoid.” The receptionist deadpanned with a twitching grin threatening to escape.

When the elevator opened, Gwen’s eyes widened a bit at the marvelous lab she could observe through its transparent wall, a blonde that must be Susan Storm was alternating her lab coat-clad body between various research terminals and occasionally glancing at the central hub of monitors dangling from the high ceiling. If squints, it might also look like she’s talking to the room itself.

Gwen walked the short distance between the elevator to the lab airlock and looking for the card receiver, found it on the left side of the steel airtight sealing entrance. A simple slot ate her temp card like a hungry chick, and the intercom might have boomed inside as she saw Susan stop her work and approach the airlock.

“Gwen Stacy?” the older blonde inquired with a hand shot out, her thin brows lifted up.

“Yes, ma’am.” Gwen excitedly responds with a slightly shaken handshake, internally screaming like the dying fangirl that she is.

“Seems like you are excited,” Susan smirked and noticed the unrelenting grip from the younger blonde in front of her.

“ireallyfindyourworkonrevolutionalchemicalbondingsolutiontobefascinating!” basically rambling while hyperventilating, and she was the one who teased Peter earlier.

“Aww, not like you would meet someone who appreciated your early work like this.” The doctor chuckled with delight at the assistance of her college buddy.

“andohmygodyourtheoryonhowtoidentifyhiddenatomicbondbetweenpreviouslydiscoveredelementsreallyshooktheworldofphysics!!” at this point one might consider calling a paramedic on her before she collapses, luckily Susan Storm is here to the rescue.

“Breathe. In,” she’s inhaling through her nose, urging Gwen to follow her instruction “and out.” Through their mouths in sync.

“Sorry,” Gwen sheepishly apologizes, scratching the back of her neck and trying to hide her flushed face from the biochemist “I always ramble when I’m excited.”

“Oh, I can tell, Miss Stacy.” Susan chuckled, urging the now calmed-down younger blonde to follow her into the lab.

“So, Curt sent you for the genetic sequencer, am I right?” Susan asked as Gwen stood idly in the central area, eyes scanning the entire workplace that she had to herself.

“Yes, ma’am.” Gwen quickly replied with a dorky grin, which brought a smile to Susan’s lips.

“I’m going to think I look older than I thought if people your age keep calling me that.” Susan said with a lighthearted tone, carefully “By the way; do you know why, despite working in one of the most advanced labs on this side of the planet, Curt still needs to borrow this from me?” the biochemist turned around and cradling a relatively moderate sized machine towards her, judging from how she carried it Gwen is certain that the device itself is quite light in weight.

“I have no clue because the ones inside our lab are of the same model as this one.” She replied sincerely. Did Doctor Connors just pull a prank on her with Doctor Storm’s help? She mused. 

“Some parts of this one are fabricated with Carbonadium.” She said while finishing up the last layer of wraps.

“Carbonadium?” the name of the material rings some distance bells, but she can’t really put the specifics of the name off the top of her head.

“Rare mineral, some believe it to be a degraded and inferior form of Vibranium or Adamantium. Still fetching a hefty bills if you know where to sell it.” Susan finished the sentence in tandem with sealing the carry case “Few materialist experts and metallurgists proposed some wild theories about it since discovered in 1975. Reed Richards was one of the very few crazies to actually use it without proper study and data; some whispers on the internet even said that Iron Man’s latest Arc Reactor in his suit actually implemented a Carbonadium alloy core to amped up the energy output.” Susan shrugged while offering the securely packed machine to the younger blonde.

“Wow.” Gwen can only produce so much from her overclocking processing unit.

“Yeah. The only certain properties we know of it are that it is stronger than purest steel, but quite radioactive in large quantity.” Susan said.

“Wouldn’t that be a bit dangerous to use? Doctor Storm?” Gwen asked from her spot, nervousness evident in her uncertain expression.

“Oh, no! The amount that starts to affect the human genome or cause cellular degradation is about 10 times more than the bits and pieces inside that equipment. I was just taking necessary precautions to shield it from satellite imaging and accidental ionization on the way back to Oscorp. Can’t be too careful, you know?” Susan chirped, which did a smaller amount of assurance for Gwen than the older blonde intended.

“So…the radiation property of this Carbonadium has something to do with Doctor Connor’s decision to use it?” Gwen concluded, roughly from the provided hints. Susan Storm’s eyes lit up in admiration and clap her hands together as if to shout out ‘Eureka!’.

“Bingo! Yes! Now I know why Curt let you into his lab.” Susan exclaimed “So, somehow, the radiation property of Carbonadium contributes to a significant spike in efficiency towards DNA sequencing. No one knows why that is, but it was a noticeable quality of this beauty.” Susan pats the package softly, a prideful smile adorning her stunning face.

“Oh!” Gwen exclaimed, excitedly, looking at the package with newfound curiosity.

“I’m sorry if I can’t walk you down to the reception, Miss Stacy, but I still have four simulations to finish.” Doctor Storm led her to the airlock.

“It’s no problem, Doctor Storm. I wouldn’t want to impose your time any longer.” Gwen replied.

“Don’t be silly, I don’t get to talk trivia stuff with anyone around here. Such a shame that Curt locked you before I could.” Susan sighed with a smile.

“My…friend, Peter Parker, actually interviewed here for an internship yesterday. You should talk to him first and you will wish he would shut up, but he will definitely be talking trivia with you all day if you don’t stop him or gag his mouth.” Gwen ignored her uncertainty at first when defining the status between them, and proceeded with a fit of giggles.

“Really? Oh, I hope the board approves his application! He’s a…funny guy, if a bit awkward.” Susan displayed a curious expression.

“Oh, only when he’s talking to girls, or women in general.” Gwen cackled out.

“Ah. So, that’s how it is.” Susan exclaimed with a smirk.

“Thank you, Doctor Storm! See ya around!” Gwen waved a little as the elevator doors closed.

“Hope to see you again, Miss Stacy! Maybe over a coffee wouldn’t be so bad!” the biochemist chirped from her opened lab, waving her hand a little at her visitor.

When the elevator closed and her airlock sealed, she returned to her station and looked up at the intercom with raised eyebrows. “You are awfully quiet, Nathaniel?”

“Reed programmed me to be discreet if need be, Susan; a visitor from a rival company is categorized as such.” The monotonous response never failed to irritate her, only a little.

“Whatever. Bring up projects B15 and F04.” She commanded and the AI complied in silence.

He detached the last webbing strand he used as his feet landed gracefully on the paved road leading into the security gate and through a lush greeneries in front of the Compound.

“Proximity alert.” FRIDAY announced as soon as he was in range for the motion sensor “Individual identified; Hello, [data expunged], welcome back to Avengers compound. Your last login was 15 June 2025.” Her synthetic voice and emotionless delivery are a stark(ha!) contrast to Edith’s latest update.

“Hi, Fri!” he chirped out, ignoring the miraculous deletion of his name from the database thanks to Stephen Strange’s arcane intervention. “How’s everyone? Anyone home?”

“All members reported healthy and quite fine by Doctor Cho three days ago, [data expunged], however, all active members are not registered inside the compound at the moment, only Mister Keener and Morgan are here, with Happy.”

Shit… why today? The question to whoever listens.

“Oh? Why are they here?” Peter chanced a question he didn’t really need an answer to.

“Happy was to gather some personal items of Mister Stark, for the memorial,” FRIDAY informed him, and Peter’s self-loath spiraled downwards even more.

Three years, he’d stopped coming here.

Three years since he’d requested his own resignation from the Young Avengers Initiative.

Three fucking years, he’d stopped his visit to Pepper Potts and Morgan Stark.

Three damn fucking years, he’d stopped going to Tony’s memorial.

Because fucked up enough, today is also the memorial day of May’s death.

“Should I alert mister Hogan about your presence here, [data expunged]?” FRIDAY asked.

“No. Please.” Peter breathed out with a ragged breath “I will use the back entrance and go to room A17, don’t disturb them.”

“Acknowledge.” FRIDAY cut off communication with him and opened the personnel entry for him, leading straight to the hidden track connected to the rear of the compound.

He solemnly made his way towards his destination, trying and failed miserably to not look at the familiar ride parked in front of the front entrance.

Silently closing the final stretch to the hidden door, Peter felt something heavy coiling inside his stomach the more he approached the building.

As soon as he opened the door, he was greeted by one of the last persons he wanted to run into.

“H…hey, Morgan?” he greeted her, swallowing a lump forming in his throat at her confused face that was slowly turning into a frown and scrunching into anguish.

The nine-year-old balled her fists so tight he thought she would break them, her eyes reddening with steaming tears, lips bitten to reign in a whimper.

Then the drumming of frustration, of anger, of confusion, and bottled despair, rained down on his muscled abdomen.

The drumming numbed all sounds from his heightened senses, unable to even discern her accompanying wail of grief.

Until Happy and Harley arrived with surprised and confused expressions, that is when the deafening requiem subsided with Morgan’s sobbing form pressed tightly into his. Her cries wrecked all the resolves he had thought formed like a sturdy wall around his heart, yet they crumbled like a house of glass.

His gloved hands start an uncertain pat atop her head, trying to soothe; to whom among them, he cannot be certain.

“Thought we’ll never see you again, bug.” Harley greeted him, with hostility would be an understatement. Whereas Happy simply stood in his place, waiting for Morgan to tire off her cry.

“Spiders are arachnid.” He attempted a weak and pathetic quip, which Harley only snorted at it with annoyance.

“Like I care.” The taller man said and approached him and his surrogate sister “Do what you were about to do before Morg stopped you, bug. We are leaving.” The last sentence was largely directed at Happy, as he cooed Morgan to let go of her supposed big brother outside of himself.

The trio made their way toward the front section with a still sobbing Morgan Stark following Harley like a lost lamb.

After Happy took Morgan to the car, Harley stood in place and turned to him, speaking across the eternal void that separated them.

“Pepper wanted to see you at Tony’s memorial, the least you can do is drag your pathetic ass there. Motherfucker…” Harley gritted out with seething anger; their falling out was so sudden and confusing that he could still recall the shock and wrath he felt when Spider-Man signed the resignation and practically disappeared from their lives.

“FRIDAY?” he then spoke to the AI.

“Yes, Mister Keener?”

“After Spider-Man, or whoever the fuck he is, left the vicinity of the compound today; initiate deletion of any validation and identification on his biometric, facial recognition, and acoustic recognition. Scrub off everything from the database and terminate project A17. Any remaining personal effects after the termination will be considered garbage and queue for incineration.” Harley paused to look at the slumped shoulders red-and-blue vigilante, then “Authorization; IRM002-HK2025.” With the finality in the air, Harley glared at his former best friend and one of his closest teammates one last time and followed Happy’s path to the car.

Peter stood in place.

He deserves that. He knows he is.

But all of it still hurts like a motherfucker hearing it came from someone as optimistic and forgiving as Harley Keener.

All he got out was a personal cache containing his prepaid internship/Avenger salary(which is not much but it can help for a few years) and Tony’s lent three-piece suit in deep burgundy, with a grey shirt and cufflinks; a pair that gifted to Tony by his late father. He remembered that Pepper got the ones that Maria Stark gifted to him, considering Tony was closer to his mom.

Slung across his back in a makeshift backpack, Peter swings through the way back from the compound to New York City with a heavy heart.

Approaching the cemetery, Peter stops in his tracks and opts to walk at a steady pace towards the entrance.

Trinity Church cemetery, where Uncle Ben and Aunt May can enjoy their unending sunset together.

He treks through the familiar path, leading into the inner section where their graves are located.

A sight would have been baffling to some, and downright depressing to most, but he can’t really find it in him to care.

He reached their paired stones after a few moments, his suit’s lens squints to their limits but the sting in his eyes still lingers.

A crumbled bouquet is all he could bring with him.

“Hey…” he whispered, mostly to himself. Head bowed down in defeat and posture slumped in exhaustion.

“Another year passed by, May, I’m still hanging on, so…” he rasped out with a choking chuckle threatening to suffocate him in a sea of darkness and despair.

“Last year was fun, though!” he mustered enough cheerfulness, only for it to die off instantly as it left his being “I fought a Russian rhinoceros-loving guy. Called himself Rhino, wearing a bootleg exoskeleton suit. One hell of a stubborn blockhead, I’ll give him that.”

He crouched down, cradling his head with his hands, his body shuddered violently as he tried to keep the whimper away.

He failed, and a minute passed by until he felt his throat dried out, and his lungs burning.

“It’s so hard without you guys…” he places a hand on Ben’s gravestone, and then on May’s. Letting the chilling stone seep their coldness into him.

I was a fucking coward. He thought but never let it out.

Uncle Ben would be disappointed in him.

May would have given him a long lecture and kicked him on his ass to send him to Tony’s memorial.

‘Respect his memories.’ She would have said with that stern look.

“Yeah…thanks, May.” He mumbled and propelled himself off towards where he should be, three years ago.

The crowd dispersed a while ago, that much he can tell by the time and the gathering of only close friends and Avengers; whether retirees or active ones.

He fumbles his way through some curious attendees, those who remembered his affiliation with the organization at all gave him a surprised look.

There was Clint Barton and his wife, and Kate Bishop; the dark-haired woman shot him a surprised and longing smile, accompanied by a small wave of her hand.

Yelena Belova distanced herself from others.

Maria Hill is also here, standing with a group of Tony’s closest; one that he wants to avoid the most.

“Thought you would bail again, kid.” The gravel tone of Captain Barnes greeted him from behind, his Vibranium hand pats his shoulder firmly.

“Mister Barnes.” He returned the pleasantry.

“Glad you are here, Queens, even if some won’t.” with that the Winter Soldier bid his farewell and retreated from the gathering.

He takes another set of steps before another hand grips his shoulder. Looking up he was greeted by an understanding look on Sam Wilson’s face.

“Me and Buck are gonna hang around Zenith club for the night, join us if you wanna talk, alright?” Then the Falcon was the second to leave since he came.

He resumed his longest journey again and was passed by Scott Lang, who gave him a curt nod.

Until he stops just a few feet away from the group.

Maria Hill was the first to notice his presence, ever the vigilante spy, and nodded her head tightly at him.

Her action draws Happy and Harley’s attention, which results in them sending him a set of different glances; Happy’s hopeful one and Harley’s full of scorn.

Morgan is still pressed firmly against her mother’s leg, eyes trained on the memorial under the shadow of Christ.

Pepper looked relatively healthy, from his shallow observation, with no malnourishment, and no sign of prolonged illness rather than the apparent slump in her postures from tiredness.

Happy urged Harley to follow him away from Pepper and Morgan, which the younger man obliged quietly.

Maria was next to excuse herself, but Colonel Rhodes is still watching over the treasures that his closest friend left behind like a dutiful sentry.

Spider-Man was not a sight he expected to see after the second year of absence and radio silence on the kid’s part. Being the veteran himself like Bucky and Sam, he knows well the devastating force of survivor’s guilt that plague the kid. He can’t expect the other kid like Keener to understand and is simply too exhausted to try and explain anything.

“Pepp,” he called out to his friend’s widow, seeing her turn her gaze from the altar, he gestured his head to the direction behind her “Someone’s here to see you.” He said and briefly shot Spider-Man a knowing look.

Pepper turned and gasped at the sight. Morgan was still confused as to why her mother was shocked, until her eyes landed on someone that had almost become a stranger to them; with or without magic.

“Miss Potts. Morgan.” He greeted them with quivering voices, raising his shaken hand in a form of salute. “Long time no see?”

He steeled himself with a hiss, wincing at the possibility of how Pepper would ‘greet’ him.

The warmth of the older woman enveloped him in a hug, tighter than a regular human could tolerate, but he didn’t mind it at all. Her silent tears pierced through the fabric of his suit.

“Underoos,” she whispered his name out with a ragged breath.

Due to the complicated nature of the Oblivion curse, those closest to Peter Parker can learn his name again but they will gradually forget it after an hour; a safeguard that Strange added in after the mess he caused trying to tamper with something he didn’t understand even a whiff of. So, Pepper opted to just use anything but his name she would forget to call him; ranging from Underoos to Bugboy.

“I’m sorry for—” he whimpered out, gathering her into a hug, mindful of how much strength he exerts.

“I get it, honey, believe me, I do.” She cooed him.

“Underoos?” Morgan voiced curiously from her spot, eliciting a chuckle from Pepper.

“Yes, Morgie. He’s Underoos.” Pepper talked to her child with teary eyes.

Morgan just tugged her tiny hands at his waist, garnered a fistful of the fabric.

He had nothing to say, so he softly and reluctantly smoothed her brunette tresses as if afraid she might crumble under his touch.

“Come on, you must have some stories after this long.” Pepper urged him and Morgan to the front bench, facing Tony’s memobrilia.

“Really, kid?” Sam teased him as soon as he reached their alcove, dressed in his Spidey suit with a pair of sunglasses balancing on the bridge of his masked nose kept in place by a drop of web fluid.

“No way I’m gonna just unmasked while drinking with Avengers, Sammy. Nope.” He declared while scooting pass Bucky into a vacant spot of the half-ringed shaped sofa.

“What’s the matter? Gandalf’s spell should covered that, right?” Sam teased, still. Offering a beer to him.

“Nah, can’t risk it. What if some of my new friends suddenly forgot about me? Solo college is no fun, I just know it.” Spider-Man, which sticking out like a sore thumb in here, lifts his mask up just above his nostrils, and take a swig of the chilled and bitter beverage; he never understand the allure many of his college peers found in these.

“Only friends?” Buck wiggle his brows at the youngest of them at the moment, snorting into his vodka tumbler when Spider-Man suddenly choke.

“Changing topic!” Announced himself like an NPC, he turned towards Sam “How’s the shield these day? Named her yet?”

Sam snorted at that and shaking his head with a grin.

“Come on, man! At least you gotta think about it! That cougar is there since the 50s! She deserves a name!” Spider-Man keep pressing. Bucky enjoys the vibe that the motor-mouthed always bring wherever he goes.

“What do you think about it, Cap'N Barnes? What should we name her? I was thinking….Julia? Nah! How ‘bout…Leah? Sounds French and we can totally riding off Lady Liberty with that!” the yapper continues.

“It go and come back for Steve every time…I think I’ll go with…” Bucky relented after his second bottle “Patty.” He said with a satisfying smirk, take another swig of his vodka.

“Huh?” Spider-Man and Sam quirked their eyebrows, awaiting an elaboration if there ever is one.

“So, there’s this girl…”

The night stretched well into 2 in the morning, with Sam wasted and Bucky a bit tipsy due to his enhanced metabolism, and a completely sober Spider-Man; albeit he did took a nasty tour to the toilet once.

After dropping his former teammates off to their hotel, Peter made his way back towards Gwen’s apartment. Still seeing the light from the window, he quickly ditched his alcohol-infused suit into his backpack and stashed it in its usual place.

Making his way up the fire escape as always, he reached the window and surprised to see Gwen still working with a laptop on her lap, reclining on the couch with a quiet serenade of some violin pieces playing in the background.

She seems too focus with her work, until a knock on her window jolted her out of her trance.

“What are you doing her—” She asked as soon as he slid inside “Are you drunk?” the stench of alcohol swirling around him, but his movement seems to be sobered, or trying to be.

“I went out with some friends from West Coast.” A truth, at least, not guaranteed that she would buy it.

“What friends?” she crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her hip sideway.

“Billy and Samuel; from high school.” Partially true, he did knew them from his time in high school.

“And you’ve been drinking with them since…?” she asked, eyebrow lifted with expectation.

“…8?” he offered with a sheepish grin.

“This is 2.30.” she said, coldly.

“Yeah…” he cringes at himself.

“You know what? Whatever.” Gwen said with eyes closed and hands in the air, signaling a concede to the situation. She return to her laptop and saved her work before closing it.

“Gwen…” he starts.

“That gelato shop is great, by the way, don’t know if you are still care about it.” She replied with icy glare and a hint of hurt in her posture.

“Gwen, it’s just—”

“Take a shower. Take the couch. I don’t have it in me to talk to you right now.” She finished and then closed her bedroom door.

He slumped onto the couch with a groan.

He forgot the gelato, which he planned to take her to after his planned retrieval at the Avengers Compound.

But then the memorial.

And then Sam and Bucky.

…fuck…

He wants to just fling himself at the Empire State one more time.

“Idiot…” she muttered under the cover, sighing for the millionth time since he came back, to her place, after a night out. Completely bailed on her supposed gelato date with him.

She listens to his movement, not a slightest hint of intoxication in them. It would be a bit odd, if she did not conjured up excuses and explanations for it first.

Just there for a few drinks and catching up?

Just there to take care of these Billy and Samuel?

It stings to be second priority, especially to someone she likes as much as she likes Peter. But the matured part of her lovesick brain still protest that they are still not anything substantial, at least as far as she knows.

She had waited for him since her usual 10 PM sleep, and the disappointment is still swirling around its confined pond.

Thought he would at least remember the promise of gelato, even if he missed the date.

She chided herself in frustration and tries to gain some shut-eye before having to drag herself to work tomorrow.

Chapter Text

IV

- Le Jeu Est Lancé -

Typical morning in New York; blaring sirens, car horns, pigeon hoots, and Gwen Stacy's deathly glare from across the kitchen table directed fully on him.

See? Normal!

Awkward would have been a mild understatement.

He awakened about an hour ago, back sore from sleeping on the couch rather than the comfort of her bed. The remaining alcohol from last night already left his system if the damp sweat on the couch's fabric can be considered. Not that such a relatively minuscule amount of alcohol could do anything to his mutated physiology anymore.

The early morning went by in stagnant silence, with Gwen excluding him from helping her prepare their breakfasts; toasts, bacons, scrambled eggs, and some coffee. Both sat on opposite sides of the kitchen table since then and ignored their meals, focusing on contemplating the inevitable conversation.

He doesn't really know if she's mad at his clubbing last night as well as forgotten the date, or did she was just specifically subjected to one over the other. So, he clears his throat, sitting up straight, and looks her in the eyes before uttering the best he has planned "I'm sorry about our date, I really am! There's just...too many things happened yesterday evening I completely forgot about taking you to that gelato shop." He offered a sincerely apologetic smile. She took it in for a minute, eyes darting between his eyes and his posture as if to investigate for any deception there might be.

Finding none, she sighed with her hard glare softened just a bit, and speaks "You should've, at least, texted me about it. I'm not entirely mad at missing a date or two with you, Pete, be sure about that, but it just..." she paused, taking a bite out of her scrambled eggs, and continue "I'm worried something happened to you when you went radio-silence on me last night." She finished and absentmindedly poked her fork into the now-cold bacon.

"I'm not going to start pestering you on your personal life, Peter, but I think at the very least, some consideration should be established between us. I know we are not 'officially' anything," yet, she mused hopefully with air quotes by her fingers "but I care about you, a lot, if I'm gonna be honest. We've gotten so close, and..." she stops, taking a deep concentrating breath, then look at his soft expression again "Am I rambling again?" she offered him a tight smile, brows drawn closer to another.

He just sent her a reassuring smile, reluctantly chancing his hand to cover hers, and she let him, relishing in the pressure and warmth of his being once again like an addiction.

"Yeah, but I enjoy your rambling." He produced a sheepish smirk, which managed to lighten her mood a little more. "I really shouldn't come here drunk like that anyway," he said, hand gripping hers tighter.

"It's better than passing out on the street." She replied, intensely, "but I draw the line at puking." She finished.

Good thing I've already done that at the club, he mused internally.

A UI shows a text notification from Julia Takeda's personal number, and he just has to open it via eye-tracking. Looks weird to Gwen, obviously.

>>> The board review is about 55%! Just waiting for some bigwigs to clear their schedules. I'll keep you updated. J.

Seeing a hint of a smile curling on his lips and quirks an eyebrow at him "What, 'friend' from last night?" she smirks.

Peter averted his gaze to her with widened eyes and a grin "No, no! Just Miss Takeda texted me about my interview." Peter answered.

"Personally? That's sus," She said with a knowing smirk; if she finds him cute, it's not a surprise others will as well.

"It's nothing, I think?" he pursed his lips, tilting his head a bit to the side just like whenever he wasn't sure about something; she categorized these little details about him.

God, she's hopeless.

"Sure 'bout that, dude? Not like she could ask you out on a lunch date or anything when you start your internship?"

"Well, I mean free food is free food, so..."

"Smart man." She nods with pursed lips, mimicking the approving posture of her dad.

"Although..." he started with raised eyebrows, sporting a lopsided grin on his face "...maybe someone else might wanna cut in, you know?" Gwen snorted as a reply.

"Who? Susan Storm? Don't tell me your 'unspoken rizz' got to her too, Peter Parker." She laces their fingers together.

"Definitely a blonde, if I read it right." He replied with a dorky smirk.

"Well, we all know you are not that good at reading people. Just saying." She shrugged her shoulders at him with a playful expression.

With a dexterity she had never seen before, Peter got up from his seat and tugged her into his body, their face resting inches from another's as her breath hitched.

His arm encircled the small of her back with certainty laced with familiarity, ushering her closer still into his taller being.

"I'm pretty sure I'm not entirely wrong about this one, right?" he whispered between their mingling breaths, slowly closing the smallest gap separating their lips.

Her eyes fluttered, slowly closing as they collided with one another, caressing softly but firmly.

"Can we start dating, like, now?" he asked as the kiss broke, letting her take the much-needed air. Those glints of hope in his puppy eyes enticed her into a stupid grin.

She keeps her silence and nuzzles into his neck as he sways both of them side to side like a quiet waltz. Her classical music playing in the background only amplifies the already electric air around them.

"I promise you won't have to wonder if I'm gonna bail on you again, in the near future anyway." He offered with a playful shrug of his shoulders, eliciting a heartfelt chuckle from her.

"You wanna date?" she asked, looking up at his face from her position; she had to see his eyes to be sure.

"Of course." He replied "You are smart, funny if a bit leaning heavy on innuendo, I love discussing stuff with you, I like your take on Quantum-physics, your easygoing lifestyle, your-" he stopped when Gwen's fingers brushed lightly atop his lips.

"You are rambling." She said with a joyful grin plastered on her lips, pressing herself into his further. He chuckled with a sheepish grin.

"I like you, very much, Gwen Stacy." He said with that bright smile of his.

"I know, Peter Parker." She replied with a smirk.

"Don't fucking Han Solo-ed me right now," Peter exclaims, but his grin widens as he gathers her up a bit to plant a kiss on her inviting lips.

"You met with WHO?!" Gwen asked with widened eyes and almost spit out an iced tea from her cup.

Being a day off for them, both decided to take a stroll through Central Park, hands clutching, and chatting among themselves about nothing in particular.

That was until she asked about his earlier evening activities.

"Miss Potts. I actually went to pay Tony a respect, but we got to catch up a bit." Thanks to the strict rule of no photos he doesn't need to be mindful about linking Spider-Man's appearance at the memorial with his, and it's not like he wants to keep making excuses with Gwen anymore.

"Wow! I almost forgive you about the gelato just for that."

"But you-"

"Not that easy, smart boy," Gwen teased him, and Peter shook his head in fondness at that "You still owe me that and some other dates if I'm to consider it." It was not with malice or holding grudges, but to be mature about their shared efforts in the relationship, she hoped he knows better than many his age when it comes to this.

"Looks like I got my work cut out for me, huh?" he mused from her side, quirking a brow at her with a smile adorning his lips.

"A tough one. You better be sure about it!" she nods her head with triumph, sharing a chuckle with him once again. "Were you close, you know? Before..."

"Not really," he replied with a sad smile "I worked with Tony most of the time, but we got to know each other."

She tightens her fingers around his, letting him know of the anchor that she is offering. He took it, desperately, even if he tried to submerge it under the surface.

She remembers how sad he was whenever he was left alone to sulk.

She notes the familiarity in names, though; he always referred to them by how close they are to him, the people in his life.

Tony, rarely Mister Stark.

Miss Potts, never Pepper.

"Seeing Morg again was just..." he continued, but clearly debating with himself if he should. "Sorry for ruining the mood." He cut himself off with an apologetic look, but Gwen rests her head on his shoulder.

"Talk it out, if you want, I'm here." She said, feeling the shudder coursing through his body.

"Thanks... but maybe another time?" he offered, and she agreed with a simple nod.

Peter led her through some of the spots he used to frequent as a kid in fuzzy memories with his mother, and some with his uncle and aunt. Some canyon doodles little Peter left at benches and light poles, mostly cute cartoons but some are equations and carbon compounds.

"I tried to find alternatives to solve covalence bond tests, I guess?" he said with a goofy grin, pointing at one of his doodles.

"Gotta say; you failed miserably." Gwen deadpanned.

"I was 9!" Peter protests.

"No excuses!" she mimicked the stern look of Professor Johnson, which elicited a cackle from him.

They sit in front of the fountain, side by side, unwrapping sandwiches.

Some kids are running around, and some teens and adults minding their business and occasionally trying to make new friends.

"Can't believe a year ago that Rhino guy stampeded through here with Spidey on his back." Gwen started as she was munching on her lunch. Peter let out a little laugh.

"Yeah! Say what you will about Alexei, but he sure got a decent benefactor to get an exoskeleton like that." He followed her train of thought, reminiscing his fight with Rhino;

"GET OFF!" Alexei tries to shake him loose, but his stickiness makes sure it will be a chore to attempt.

"COME ON, ALEXEI! IT'S NOT EVERYDAY I GOT A CHANCE TO BE A MATADOR!" he roared back while trying to slow down the dude's velocity by burning through his web-fluid supplies. Making layers upon layers of web-net for Rhino to plow through.

"MATA- I'M NOT A BULL!" Rhino protested, crashing into a steel fence and bending it outward, allowing a passage into Central Park.

Oh, boy... Jameson's gonna looove this!

"What's a difference in one horn lesser?" Peter retorted, yanking Rhino away from running into an electrical junction box that would have electrocuted both of them. "I don't feel it with this model, mister Alexei, it doesn't have a brake!"

Rhino puts more strain on his exoskeleton, pushing himself forward with more velocity, at this rate he will suffer tremendous damage when he collides with something solid.

He considered ripping off the servos at the legs for a moment but decided against it for the possibility of serious damage to the wearer.

"Edith!" he roared.

"Yes?"

"I need a really sticky web!"

"Introducing currents to the spinnerets," the AI informed immediately.

EDITH's UI loaded up, showing a spike in current output to his web-shooters. Peter does a quick math inside his head and plans a maneuver for his newly formulated plan.

"Ready, Spider-Man," EDITH informed him and Peter quickly shot himself off Rhino's back to the side, aiming his web shooters at the exoskeleton's moving joints.

Globs of altered webbing hit their marks, interrupting motion. With a certain amount, the servos slowly lose their efficiency and start overloading.

"It worked!" Peter exclaimed excitedly as he landed into a somersault, then he propelled himself off his landing point with a powerful kick to keep up with a now slowing-down Russian Rhinoceros enthusiast. "Keep it going, boy!" he mocked and Rhino roared in frustration.

Leaping into the air above Rhino, Peter twisted himself midair and landed on the other side, repeating his valley of sticky webs to the servos on this side.

"Careful, Spider-Man, the alteration seems to affect the nozzles' efficiency. Suggest expanding time-lapse between each shot." EDITH chirped in her monotonous voice.

"Thanks!" he replied and followed her instruction.

The Rhino's speed seemed to be reduced almost to a speeding bike than a speeding car, so he hopped onto his back again with his hands and started to yank the horned helmet backward.

"Please don't run into something, please don't run-" Spider-Man's plea was met with debris when Rhino rammed into the marble fountain, coming to a stop from his rampaging since about a mile ago.

Peter groaned as he recovered from the dizziness, lifting a chunk of marble debris off of his chest.

"Several hairline fractures on your lower ribs, right wrist, and left knee. Suggesting medical care." EDITH informed him while he was catching his breath.

"Never been better," Peter muttered with a hiss, he might need a minute to let his healing factor repair some of the damage; luckily no bone or joint needed resetting. "Edith, bring up the structural scanner." The left web-shooter produced a beep and Peter pointed it towards Rhino.

A rough layout schematic of the exoskeleton shows a concentrate point on the back area. He approaches the exo suit and inspects the highlighted area. He hums in satisfaction when he finds what seems to be the suit's CPU hiding under a titanium lid.

"Lemme just..." Peter grabs and twists it off its socket with ease, essentially stopping the Rhino from doing further damage.

"Spider-Man!" the familiar raspy feminine voice called out to him, and he cursed himself under his breath before turning towards the source.

"Yuri!" he greeted her with open arms, but the lieutenant seemed unamused, as always, and quickly closed the distance with her partner in tow. "Sorry for the detour, Alexei here is new in town, he got lost." The quip slipped off and flew over the serious policewoman's head.

"You got something to share? Or do I have to bring you in with him?" Yuriko Watanabe demanded with her arms crossing over her chest, one of her brows quirked upwards.

"Here," Spider-Man handed her the CPU he just ripped off of Rhino's suit "Judging from the tech, I would say Roxxon or AIM. Can't be sure until I have a chance to run a full diagnostic, though." He knows she won't let him keep it, but he can still hope.

"You are lucky Captain Stacy seems not too bothered by your 'help' anymore, or I will have to cuff you here and now," Yuriko said while flipping over the chip in her hand, feeling the ridges and sharp pieces.

"I might be into that, who knows?" Peter flirts, albeit unsuccessfully as the policewoman groans in annoyance "The grizzled yet righteous Spider-Cop, at your service!" he declares with his sorry attempt to mimic Charles Dance's voice as he shoots a strand of regular web to a nearby pole, lifting himself up the air but his heightened sense can still pick up the polices conversation.

"I still don't like the design. I mean, he can use some protective layers and some emergency brake." Gwen chimed in, leaning into Peter's side while munching on her sandwich.

"Maybe...*STF injection? I mean, sure, there's still force dissipation to consider, but the idea is legit?" he interjected alongside her, enjoying the softness. "Emergency brake might be a bit tricky, it could be exploited so easily." Please, God, let whoever decided to upgrade it do just that so I will have an easier time stopping him, Peter prayed internally to his sandwich.

Maybe Sam's armor could use some STF? If designed correctly with some extra padding, it could be a lifesaver.

"What about Vibranium?"

"I don't think a large shipment of those will sit well with Wakanda. And Rhino's a big fella." He replied.

"Do you think he got Jacobs syndrome?" Gwen mused.

"It's possible? Or maybe he was just a big Russian dude." He offered, and then checked the time via Edith's HUD. "When are we supposed to be at the exhibition?" he asked her, eyes still focusing on the still surface of the pond.

"7 PM," she answered after a moment, looking up at him "You have something to wear? I can ask dad if he have a jacket your size." She offered him with a curious look.

"I just got it yesterday, might have to borrow your steam iron for it." He contemplating something with a heavy look shadowing his face, until a decision comes "Mind going somewhere with me? I have someone I'd like to introduce to you."

"May and Ben Parker..." she read their names out in a quiet whisper; the only name she have some recollection of was the woman's. "I knew a May Parker from F.E.A.S.T., she was one of the staffs back when I took Howard there after the Decimation... but..." she looks with confusion at the man beside her, her hand tighten its grip on his "The news said she was..." at this, she sees hint of tears rimming his eyes, but a solemn smile forming on his lips.

"She was killed, trying to save Spider-Man..." he rasped out with shaking breath, his shoulders slumped inward as he gather the strength within.

Gwen looked at him with concerns wash over her, let his hand go and drape her arm across the back of his waist, like she's trying to keep him together.

"Spider-Man couldn't save her." He breathed out, closing his eyes tightly, and turn slightly towards her concerned face "I couldn't save her." He said with a finality to his tone. Then he reached into his jacket pocket, and holding a very convincing replica of Spider-Man's mask.

A shock engulfed her.

Making her body stiffen and eyes widened.

"You..." Gwen reach her shaking hand towards the offered object in his, clutching it in her hands as he step out of her embrace and turn his body to mirror hers "This..." she feels the fabric; or rather some specialized material he uses to craft it.

The lens themselves encased in detachable frames, kept in place by a powerful set of neodymium.

Flipped inside out, she noticed a clear face mask attached to the red colored material and a set of circuitry underneath.

"I want to tell you, because I want you to know the real me, no secrets." He stands so still in his place, heavy eyes looking at her with observing gazes, trying to gauge her reaction to this.

She holds the mask in her still shaking hands, alternating her widen eyes between it and his face, processing the revelation and information. "You are Spider-Man...?"

"Yeah." He answered simply.

"But why tell me who you are? You kept it as a secret for so long, even the Avengers don't know!?!" she has a bewildered look on her face, stretching the mask in confusion.

"That was... more complicated than simple explanation." He offered "I will tell you, soon, if you still wanna hang out after this."

"Huh?"

"You know? With your dad being a police cap'n and all, I thought you might..." he shrugged.

"You thought I would snitch on you to my dad? Who you take me for, Jameson's follower?" she seems irritated at the implication. Walking towards him with determination replacing confusion.

"I... I don't know...?" he sheepishly shooting a grin at her, which she respond by punching him on his chest, now not surprised by his imperviousness to the impact.

"I was this close," she hold her palms apart about 4 inches wide "to become a fangirl, and you thought I would have reported your identity to NYPD?" she asked with an incredulous look.

"You gotta admit it was a possible outcome." He retorted.

"Invalid assumption."

"I'd say educated guess."

"See? Nothing's changed; you are still a pain in the ass to argued with." She exclaimed.

"Well-"

"Come here, you idiot!" she pulls him into a tightest hug she had ever give, arms enveloped his taller frame and hands caressing soothing patterns into his back "I'm so sorry about your aunt..." she whispered and feel his hands cling to her coat tightly, hearing a quiet 'thank you' and his silent sobs.

She let the superhero in her arms cried, letting out his pent-up sadness and loneliness over the years onto her. She keep whispering assurance and encouragements to him while keeping her soothing touch on his back.

The death of sunlight seems to signify an end; of what, depends on the person's interpretation.

They reached his apartment around 5, with hands still linked on Gwen's insistence. Peter led them up to his floor and his room as quickly as they can; she still have to be pretty for the upcoming event regardless of the fact that she's dating Spider-Man.

It's a big revelation, might have to let it settle in before I can freak out about it, she mused as she follows Peter into the familiar room.

"I'll just grab the suit and we can go back to yours!" he announced with his usual dorky attitude, but Gwen knows now how much of it was to lock the pain away.

"I hope it's not like a Spidey onesie with a suit jacket drew over it with sharpies," she jabs, trying to keep things going the way he like, the way he wants, for now; there will be talks after talks, later.

Maybe I can get Linda into this? Gwen thought back to the therapist who helped her, and her brother Howard dealt with the Decimation and the loss of their parents.

"That would've saved some money, actually," he teased as he emerged from the partition wall, holding a folded suit package in his hand.

"That one sure look pricey, though." She motioned to the suit.

"It was one of the suits Tony lent me. I like this one, though." He declared.

"The color palette seems to be right,"

"Not just because its red!" he protests.

"Burgundy." Gwen exclaimed in sync with Edith.

"Hey, how do I look?" Gwen's voice distracted him from the paper on genetic sequencing he was reading while he was waiting for her in his dark grey shirt and deep burgundy trousers, longing on her couch. Turning his head upward into an upside down from his position, he whistled in satisfaction at her sight.

She was in a sleeveless cream top, covered by a navy suit jacket with stripes, and a form fitting jeans. Her hair was done in a way that they are walking a thin line between messy and stylized.

"Well, I'll be damned, Miss Stacy. I'm starting to envy your date tonight!" Peter complimented her with a shade of teasing, which she enjoys.

"Thank you, Mister Parker." She retorted, twirling around just a little to give him a full view.

"I'm sure he can't wait to get it off you tonight." Peter shot another smirk at her.

"Are you ready?" Gwen asks as she finished with a decorative jewelry.

"Yep." He folded a corner of the unfinished research papers and get off the couch with his jacket drape over his forearm. "Should we take a sub or a cab?"

"No. Doctor Connors already booked a ride for me." Gwen informed him and offered her hand, which he took in earnest.

"That's better than trying to avoid gums under the seats." He joked.

They reached the front of the apartment in time for a black sedan pulling to a stop, the passenger window lowered to reveal a grinning man in the driver's seat.

"Hey, kid." He greeted Gwen, and avert his eyes toward Peter's direction "So, this is mister Grinny Texting?" he asked with a smirk.

"Ugh, you are so ridiculous," despite rolling her eyes and a flair of dramatic, Gwen actually let out a genuine smile at the question.

"Hey, Mister Francis!" Peter greeted the man with his signature smile and Francis leaned over to shake his hand.

"Nice to finally meet you, kid," Francis replied, and then he gestures for both with his thumb "hop in, traffics are hell today."

Curtis Connors lead his wife through a sea of people, most he knew by reputations and names only, trying to find a mob of blonde among them. His eyes fall upon Gwen and another around her age, arms linked comfortably.

His intern's date dressed in burgundy jacket with gray shirt, and wearing a smile along with attentive eyes to whomever he is talking to at the moment.

As he and his wife approaches them, he overheard some part of the conversation both Gwen and her date are having with Simon Krieger; a promising young talent of ROXXON.

"...the main problem is the capacity itself! Battery technology has been in a stagnant state since 1980s, even with Lithium-Ion cells." Krieger exclaimed with his hands raised at his sides, a flute of champagne in one.

"I've read on some of Aldrich Killian's hypothesizes, but so far I can't really understand the specifics of his solutions." Gwen offered in a confused grin, looking at Peter and then Krieger.

"Basically, without implementing an experimental and complicate solution like Stark's Arc reactor or Wakanda's hidden power source, the hope of a powerful and cheap batteries for normal people without loads of cash are very slim; at least for another 50 years." Krieger told them with a shrug of his shoulders, bringing the flute to his mouth and sipping a little.

"Maybe we need to look for something else other than Lith-Ion? I heard about some experiment with Carbonadium, recently." Gwen offered as she took another swig of her red wine, arm still hooked on Peter's.

"Possible on paper, Miss Stacy, but so far there's not anyone crazy enough to mess with highly-radioactive stuff since the Demon Core incident. There's so much to think about and discuss with various parties just to obtain a certificate to a piece not bigger than a scout medal of it." Krieger shakes his head slowly.

"Carbonadium?" the name sounded alien to him, he directed his question towards Simon Krieger, which the older man chuckle back as a response.

"Quite a misleading name, I know, but it's this radioactive heavy element with similar molecular structure and formation as documented Vibranium, or at least one of surviving sample the metallurgists got from the debris at Avengers Compound back in 2024." Krieger explained.

Captain Rogers' old shield? He saw the mangled icon once before he had to charge Thanos's army with the others.

King T'Challa gifted a shipment of the metal to the Avengers in the end as a compliment. So, with Doctor Banner's and Rocket's help, he managed to make a new one that is now in possession of James Buchanan Barnes.

"I've never heard about it before." Peter admitted with a sheepish look, which Gwen gave him a light chuckle.

"Carbonadium is still a heavily guarded topic even among top scientists, Mister Parker, don't worry about it." Krieger finished as he noticed the Connors "The man of the hour himself!" Simon Krieger quickly approached the renowned geneticist and his wife.

"You are too kind, Mister Krieger; your work on that new electrode contact model for submersible uses is impressive." Doctor Connors replied.

"I was only fortunate that Tony Stark decided to share his early schematic for underwater electrode with the world back in 2015. The man was a true inventor, such a shame." Gwen tighten her hold on Peter slightly, knowing more about his connection to the aforementioned man than before.

"Oh, actually I heard professor Hunnigan asking about you over there," Curt point towards a group of older males at the opposite side of the area "maybe you should go talk to him? The man was well known about his expertise on recyclable energy, after all."

"Really? I should go then," Krieger announced and turn Peter and Gwen "It was a pleasure conversing with both of you." With that he starts making his way out of their vicinity.

"Thanks, Doctor Connors," Gwen sighed "he was starting to be a bit too much."

"I can tell." Curt smiles knowingly at her, and then back to his wife "Honey, I would like you to meet Gwen Stacy; she's one of my favorite interns right now." He gestured for them to greet each other, and Gwen gives the older woman a firm handshake.

"Pleasure to meet you, Miss Stacy."

"Likewise, Missus Connors." Gwen replied, and then tug Peter along to face the Connors "Doctor Connors, this is Peter Parker; the one I told you about?" she looked for that recognition in her supervisor's eyes, and smile as she found them.

"Ah, you are the one who debunked ESU's outdated and misinformed genetic study!" Curt exclaimed with a smile, shooting his hand for the younger man to shake.

"Might be an exaggeration on Gwen's part, Doctor Connors, I was only pointing out some errors in the textbook." Peter took the offered hand with a sheepish grin, nodding his head a little at the older man.

"The campus actually altered their programs following that, I'd say it's a pretty accurate description." Gwen shrugged her shoulders at the Connors.

"You made me sound cooler than I actually was."

"Someone gotta do a PR for you, dude." Gwen retorted with an incredulous look on her face.

"She's right, Mister Parker. One does not thrive in this world being humble." Curt added, but they heard another set of footsteps approaching.

"Well said, Connors!" Norman Osborn exclaimed, patting the scientist on his shoulder firmly, then he turned towards Peter with a familiarity in his eyes "I've always taught you and Harry, haven't I? Ambition is the key." He placed a firm hand on Peter's shoulder, sighing, and smile at his son's friend.

"I thought it only applied to being a businessman, Mister Osborn." Peter replied with a nervous grin; different universe or reality, but the name still haunts him.

"Silly boy." Norman laughed.

"I didn't know you two are familiar with each other." Curt looked at the interaction with curiosity.

"Yes we are," Norman let go of the shoulder and return to his casual demeanor "Peter and Harry are friends; the boy used to frequent bio-lab in his first year at ESU. Some interns at the time actually mistook him for one of our researchers." Norman explained.

"Really?" Curt look back at Peter again with a quirked eyebrow.

"Harry invited me to take a tour and looking around the lab, always saying something about it being more well-equipped than the one at the campus." And some chemicals from Oscorp storage saved New Yorkers as well, Peter mused.

"Which is true, mostly." Gwen added.

"Don't let Professor Saltzman heard that from you, Gwen, he will have a seizure." Peter jabs with a smirk, which Gwen chuckled along with it.

"Don't forget your speech, Connors." Norman said to the geneticist, and turn his eyes toward the young couple "I hope you've drafted something interesting for Curtis to say, Miss Stacy." He quirked his eyebrow at her.

"Don't worry, Mister Osborn." Gwen replied politely.

"Good, then," Norman exclaims with a charming grin, claps his hands together as if about to announce something important "enjoy the drinks and appetizers, I have some urgent businesses to attend." He then looked at Peter with a softened smile and a fatherly demeanor "I hope you know we'll always welcome you to our team, Peter. R&D needs someone with your perspective." With that, Norman excused himself from the group.

"Seems like you are not lacking opportunity, Mister Parker." Connors gestured a whiskey tumbler at him, and Peter only chuckled as a reply. "I would really like to discuss some research with you in the near future."

"I would like that, Doctor Connors, but I'm not sure if I can be of any help; genetics and bio-engineering are not my favorite subjects." Peter shrugged his shoulder with a sheepish smile.

"So, did your body developed new glands or repurposed some existing ones to produce webs?" Gwen asked as both retreated to a quiet corner with drinks in hands, observing crowds of scientists and professors mingle among themselves.

"As far as I can tell; neither." he replied with a sip of his mojito, "To be honest, I've never been thoroughly checking my physiology since I got bit."

"Would have been a funny gimmick if Spidey spin webs from his butt like regular spiders."

"Pray for me that don't happen in the future due to some kind of dormant mutation."

"Or growing extra limbs, you know?"

"Is that wishful thinking or what?" Peter wiggled his brows at her, receiving a cackle and a firm slap on his shoulder.

"Arms!"

"You sure?" he keeps teasing her, relishing the way her giggles play tunes to his ears.

"You are an idiot!" she whined out.

"I was just trying to be considerate, Gwen. You know I can whip up some crude prosthesis if you want some...extra hands?" Gwen pushes his face away from her but unable to suppress a fit of laughter.

"Keep that for yourself, Peter. I'm sure you would have felt lonely sometimes." She retorted with a challenging smirk, wiggling her brows at him.

Gwen bumped her shoulder into his triceps after a moment of shared bliss, jutting her chin at the newcomers.

"Huh?" he followed the general direction of the gesture, and saw what she saw. "This event is a fever dream, no two ways about it."

Susan Storm strides forward with elegance, dressed in a simple white bare-shouldered dress that reached just above her knees. On her left, followed a dirty-blond haired gentleman with an easy smile and suave mannerism. At first glance, you would have thought that they were a couple, but from Doctor Storm's constant eyes rolling she shot at her plus one's direction after some flirtations he spread around in a span of seconds tells you otherwise.

"Ooh, he's a looker!" Gwen whistled out to him, nodding her head up and down slowly as if in deep consideration. Giggling a little as she heard Peter's gasp of air.

"Gwen Stacy!" he exclaimed with his palm on his chest, faking an offended look.

"Drama queen," Gwen whispered with a smile and peck his cheek "I'm not bored of you, yet."

"Then I'll have to up my game, then. I think Doctor Storm herself won't be waiting that long." He smirked through a fit of cough produced by Gwen's elbow that was kneading lovingly into his side.

"Come on, player, let's go say hi." She took his free hand in hers, gripping tightly as their fingers locked and lead him through a sea of conversing people straight to the subjects of their conversation.

"Doctor Storm!" Gwen greeted the older woman with a smile, letting go of Peter's hand to offer a handshake.

"Gwen! Good to see you here," Susan excitedly took the offered hand and her smiling eyes fall upon Peter "And Peter Parker! What a coincident!" Susan then mirrored Gwen gesture towards the younger man, which he reciprocated politely.

"Pleasure to meet you, Doctor Storm, and your..." Peter gestures towards another blond beside her with a quizzical look "...your date?"

"Thank god, no!" Susan and the man snorted out in sync, then both fake puking at one another. "He's my little brother." Susan finally introduced the man to them, gesturing for him to do the pleasantries.

"Jonathan Storm, but you can call me Johnny, sweetheart." Gwen can tell that Doctor Storm's brother was purposefully sending his charming grin at her, and giving Peter a rather formal greeting in contrast.

"You are that kid actor in Hotel Isolated 2!" Peter exclaimed when the realization hit him, and Gwen quirk an eyebrow in his way about his apparent taste in movies.

Susan giggled at her brother's incredulous expression, baffled that some random guy he ran into recognized him from one of the most embarrassing parts of his early days.

"Oh...yes. That movie." Johnny let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"I used to love that scene where you scr-" Susan started but got a glare from her brother.

"Can we not talk about my flawless acting skills right now, dear sister? You are going to kill my chances with Gwen here." Johhny whined and gesturing his hand at Gwen's direction.

"You have gone mental, brother dear, if you did not pick up such a blatant sign." Susan shook her head endearingly as she directs her brother's attention towards the way Peter tugging at Gwen's waist comfortably. And the barest of gaps between them.

"Bloody... I'm so sorry for my behaviour earlier, Gwen, I should have-" despite parading himself as a typical playboy, Gwen can see the sincerity in his words.

"It's alright, Mister Storm. I'm sure Peter is fine with it?" she asked at the man at her side, who have his brows furrowed and his grip on her waist tighten just a little.

"Actually..." he trailed off with an unusual coldness laced into his tone, looking intensely at Johnny's nervous face. Susan Storm, on the other hand, smirking at the scene with apparent satisfaction at her brother's misery.

"Look, mate. I'm really sorry for acting like a bum with your woma--"

"An autograph." Peter blurted out with seriousness never leaving his posture, eyes trained.

"What?" Johnny exclaimed in confusion.

"I have a poster for Hotel Isolated 2, I need an autograph."

"Are you... are you kidding?"

"Yep." Peter then let out a cackle at Johnny's expression, elicited a chuckle out of Susan as well at the way her brother's eyes widen.

"You little..." Johnny hissed out, but after a breather he let out a defeated sigh. "Well played, Mister Parker."

"You were really convincing there for a bit, thought this night might have been cut short!" Susan exclaimed with a grin, which earned her a stinky eye from her brother.

"Your smirks says otherwise, Sue." Johnny whined.

"Seeing you squirm is still one of my entertainments, dear brother." Susan cooed at him and ruffled his swept hair playfully, enjoying a groan of frustration out of her brother.

"Sometimes I really do wish mum stops with you, so I don't have to suffer this constant bullying." He whined in jest, the hard tone of his laced with tinge of adoration.

"I can still disown you out of the inheritance if you asks nicely?" Susan retorted in a lighthearted tone, smirking and wiggling her brows.

"Keep dreaming." Johnny replied. "I'd gladly sign any poster of that shitty cinema for you, mate, how about a proper apologize over some beer? I usually went to Zenith, you know it?" Johnny directed the question at both Gwen and Peter.

"I'm not much of a drinker, you?" Peter replied and then look at Gwen, who squint her eyes at his playful implication to her love for alcohol.

"It's fine, we can meet, Johnny and I can get drunk while you sips soda and take me home afterwards." Gwen purred at him with added dramatic flair.

Susan's eyes widen at the openly flirty interaction, while Johnny cackles.

"Okaaay." Peter almost choked on his mojito, while nervously chuckling along.

"We should get going, I have so many people to introduce my idiot of a brother to." Susan tug at Johnny's elbow, urging him to follow her lead "We will let you know about the Zenith later!" Susan chirped as she shoved her brother forwards, grinning at the younger ones.

"Did I make her nervous?" Gwen mused, cocking her head sideway with a curious expression.

"Totally. That was too forward of a tease, for her, I guess." Peter shrugged his shoulders.

"It was pretty forward, for anyone, I think I've been rubbing off on you too much that you can't really tell anymore." Gwen juts her chin forwards with prideful posture.

"What have you done to me?" Peter groaned with an untamed grin.

"Come on, Pete. Doctor Connors's gonna do a speech, I want to hear what you think about my clueless attempt at writing nonsense." Gwen beamed at him, dragging him along towards the stadium.

"Are we good?" One of the mercenaries asked the person in charge of this operation, who dressed in an all-black, Black Panther suit with decorative furs on the shoulder, arms, and legs.

"The timing have to be perfect." The Black Panther mused through the vocal modulator inside the feline helmet, eyes glow in teal radiances, squinting as overlooking the layout of Oscorp.

"Boss don't like games." Another one spoke with a gruff voice, resulted from prolonged abuse of his own lungs with cigarettes.

"Too bad, I have a different principal." Black Panther mused over the area scouted beforehand to be their targeted location, pointing the clawed finger at it for all to see. "I'll take point with Marko, we have around 5 minutes between each patrol of guards." Indicating on the red line drawn over the hallway and each section. "You sure Mason's skeleton key works?"

"Yes, I used it on a similar model as a test, busted right in without even a stutter." Marko replied.

"That's what you get from working with professionals." Black Panther exclaimed.

"You, Gabe, and Dimitri will standby here," a finger rested on an area designated 'disposal' "according to Mason's specs, the containers we will use should absorb 98% of force even if we drop it from the roof of the building, but just to be safe, I take it you followed my instructions?" the trio mentioned nodding their heads in sync at the question.

"Don't worry, we don't want to piss the big man either."

"Smart."

"What about the bug?" Marko asked.

"If you stick to the plan, he won't be a problem."

"I heard ya, but what if?"

"We'll see."

"That's not very reassuring, right?" Dimitri inquired with an incredulous look, looking around their small council.

"Yes, but where's the fun if we don't let a little bug play around a bit?" Black Panther chirped. "Gear up, we move out in ten."

"I'll never get tired of this one," Peter exclaimed with a goofy smile on his face, wind swept his brown locks everywhere on the roof of Oscorp.

Gwen, clad tightly inside her jacket, relished the gale of the city's breeze from such a height and took in the sea of lights underneath that stretched as far as her eyes could perceive.

Both decided to take a breather from the crowded event and now she sees the allure of his alternate life as Spider-Man; one of many, according to him, that made the shitty ones more bearable.

"How did you get over it? Acrophobia is a common fear, after all." Gwen asked, hugging her midriff while breathing in the relatively fresh air with a smile.

"The Empire States, nosediving from the top. Nothing beats it ever since." Peter answered as he spread his arms, closing his eyes to let all of the stimuli he usually blocked reach his senses; honking of horns, shouts from restaurants nearby, some drunkard hollers from nearby bars, and heartbeats of those around him.

His might not be as acute or refined as Daredevil's, but it was overwhelming enough for his early days as Spider-Man. He learned to filter them out to a tolerable degree, which helped him be more focused and somewhat normal again. He heard the slightest huff from the person standing at his side; one he never thought would have become such an integral part of his life in the time they had really known one another.

He finds her attractive, in a general sense, that much was not a surprise; she's one of the smartest persons he had ever met, and she's cute in a biological sense that would make anyone interested in her.

Her stubbornness and disregard of traditions, even when dealing with professors and peers, is the most notable aspect of her.

One might say, he likes those kinds of things about a person more than anything.

Leaving it to him? They might still be tiptoeing around the obvious attractions shared.

He likes the snores she has whenever he manages to be awake before she does.

Her octopus-like tendency to sprawl her limbs everywhere while sleeping.

Her quiet hums when cooking or focusing on things.

He keeps his eyes on her and a smile refuses to subside, and it widens when her blue eyes fall upon his with that adoring smirk.

"See something you like?" she teased with a lighthearted tone, mimicking his posture from before and taking in the serenity of the city that never sleeps.

"You could say that," Peter replied, without averting his eyes from her relaxed posture; the dim light dances around the edges and outlines of her body in a display of an artist's masterpiece, framing the perfect rendition of such a beauty.

Would it be too soon to admit this? He mused to himself; as many already pointed out to him he falls too easy and too quick, sometimes it brings only heartbreak.

He ignores the numb prick in the back of his mind for the moment, focusing on enjoying the moment present, of him standing with her on a rooftop like they have carved a space out for themselves only.

"You have to see this every time?" she opens her eyes and gestures for the scenery ahead. "Watching over the city like a sentinel, always looking out for us?" she turns and lets out a whimper as she notices his relentless gaze.

"I wouldn't say it like that, no." Peter protested with a smile.

"Why?"

"I'm just a kid from Queens who helped cats and old people cross streets. Some occasional muggings here and there, sure, but I didn't do much." He shrugged. Gwen thought before that he was being sarcastic and trying to act like an aloof person, but now she can see the little boy curling inside with a burning hope of being better; to be enough according to his own almost unrealistic standards.

"You fought aliens, Pete, not many can say that." Gwen offered with a smile.

"More like tossed around like a doll by aliens." He countered with a shrug.

"Come on! At least you flail about with styles!" she plays along. "...Iron Man chose to do it, Pete, it's not your fault," Gwen said after a while, closing the gap between them as she reached her hand for his.

"I could have-" he starts but Gwen squeezes their joined appendages to stop him.

"He wouldn't want that, would he?" she offered with a reassuring smile, placing her head on his arm and wrapping him into a side hug. "He would have wanted you to keep going, keep being you."

"A nerd from Queens?" he asked in a little voice, pressing himself into her smaller frame tighter.

"Peter Parker, a man who wants to help people," Gwen said with a soft expression, leaning up a little to plant a kiss on his cheek. "That's you. That's what he saw in you."

"Maybe..."

"Keep helping people, Pete, keep his memories alive with you." Gwen finished, laying her head on his shoulder with a sigh.

"You sure know what to say." Peter mused quietly into her blonde hair as he nuzzled them.

"After the Snap," she started with a steady breath "my parents were gone, dusted. I have some help, her name's Linda, I might have taken some of her words with me." She smiles fondly at the memory of the therapist.

"I can't even imagine..." he trailed off and then changed his mind "Seems like I've really hit the jackpot, huh?" He said with a ghost of a smile imprinting itself onto her scalp.

Gwen relishes the sensation with bliss.

"Should we go back down? This is nice, but there are some interesting characters we should probably meet?" Gwen asked and saw Peter's contemplating the idea.

"Well, I think I saw Doctor Darkinson earlier, maybe we s..." he trailed off, posture stiffening, eyes widening, his head snaps like a whip to his side and tilting his head to listen in what she could not hear.

"Pete?" she voiced her concern with her hand still tugging at his side, coercing him to inform her about this sudden phenomenon.

"Something's not right..." he can't really say what he heard, but it sounds like a screech from when two hard surfaces cut into each other. Then a 'plonk' emerged from the direction of the far side opposed to their location, like something had been pulled off.

"Should we call the police?" she can't be sure whether to be concerned or not, but an option is still an option as she gauge his reaction.

He starts pushing away from her, hand digging into his breast pocket, and produces a wireless earbud for her.

"It was linked to Edi, I will keep you updated," Peter said without hesitation, sliding his jacket off and handing it to her at the same time he took her scarf and wrapped it around his face, leaving his eyes and nose exposed.

"What?" but she yelped in shock when Peter actually propelled himself over the far edge of the roof, and a 'thwip' rang out as he pulled himself into the side of Oscorp tower. "That mother.... Edith!?" she yells into her earbud, taking a second longer than needed to get a response from Peter's AI.

"Yes, Gwen?" the AI chirped out with her usual tone.

"Can I have an update on Pe-Spider-Man's status?" she asked as she strides towards the side where Peter had just committed a non-suicide earlier. A glimpse of a cut-out hole big enough for a human to go through appears there like a neon sign that says, 'Go here'.

"I can only give a limited update, sorry." Edith replied "his brain wave seems steady, albeit developing spikes from time to time. No audio log at the mom-" Edith paused for a moment, then continued "he just made a joke about Bruce Willis's Die Hard; said he hoped it would be a Germanic bad guy while he's crawling inside air vents, as of now."

Gwen can't help but groan.

"Should I go in, web-shooters drawn, and then 'Yippee Ki-yay!' like Bruce Willis?" he mused through Gwen's scarf, muffling himself a bit to the point where Edith wouldn't respond to his prompts. "Edi?"

"Oh! Sorry, I dozed off about a second ago. What's up?" her voice is still plain, but the sass in each spoken word is so clear he swears it should have been cleaner than glass.

"Can you tap into the security system? I want to know what we are up against." Peter crawled forward, following the intensity of his spider-sense.

"The hardware inside your phone won't allow it, Peter, I need to plug into a terminal," Edith informed him and made Peter groan.

"The one time I want to relax and enjoy a night with my...girlfriend?" He tilted his head a little, but continued to make his way inside the vents "And I don't wanna be shifting and chafing because of my suit, something like this happen!" he whined and reached a hatch. Poking his head out to make sure, he dropped down to the grates covering the entirety of the biology floor, as labeled at the wall by his right.

"You could have let this go and back to enjoying normalcy, we can follow the news tomorrow." Edith joked and Peter snorted back in a reply.

"You think we can do, like, a wearable housing unit? Like a belt or a watch? In case this scenario happens again?" He mused and paused for a bit, before adding "Hopefully not in the near future." He scans the vicinity with pupils dilated, taking in lights and trying to discern any misplaced objects or clues.

"The current mass estimation of project Mk3 would prove to be a bit staggering for a single concentrated point." Edith offered.

"I have superhuman strength, remember?"

"Optimal mobility suggested otherwise, Peter."

"What about Mark-47? It was basically a chest plate." Peter asked still, looking around as he tried to hone his senses.

"It was merely an unfinished prototype, unlike Mark-48, and FRIDAY got conned by mister Stark to disregard her analysis."

Peter makes an incredulous face at the notion of Tony Stark conning an AI to do things his way.

He heard a rumble, something solid but vacant hitting the laminated floor. He traces the residue of echoes to their source and witnesses a sight he couldn't believe.

"Shuri?" he asked with a confused expression, straightening himself up as he was about to approach who he thought to be the princess of Wakanda.

Yet, as his eyes took in details, he stopped his feet and slowly lowered himself into a stance, ready to pounce at whoever was behind the iconic styled super-suit.

Her muscle structure and overall physicals seem to be denser, not by much, but curvier than T'Challa's little sister. He also recognized nothing about the swaying of her hips, leisurely shifting her weight on each leg, the demeanor he'd never seen displayed by her royal majesty even in that public announcement back when he signed off from the Initiative.

"First impression failed, darling, you got a lady's name wrong." He caught a slip of accent in that modulated voice; something European, or could even be French.

Peter plots his movements; he has to assume she got the claws as well if she has the suit, and that's a problem. His web formula produces strong and flexible substances, but even his latest heavy-duty formula might not be a match to Vibranium's atom-splitting sharpness.

"Don't be discouraged now, Spider, I always give second chances," she mimicked a gesture of... sending a kiss. "Gotta say, you filled out that shirt nicely, hmm..." he could swear he heard a purr, like an actual kitty purr.

Is she a supe?

An experiment gone wrong? He knows that someone somewhere doesn't even care about ethics against conducting genetic engineering on humans.

Did she have, like, a human-cat hybrid appearance under that intimidating Vibranium-weave helmet?

"Um...thanks?" He blurted out, in confusion.

"Peter?" Gwen's voice pierces through his thoughts, he clears his throat and takes in the scenery one more time.

The terminal at her back is running what he assumes to be a jailbreak, codes flooding the screen and a visible loading bar filled about halfway already.

"Looking for something? Maybe I can help? I can hook you up with some strapping young cops I know, he's real nice." Spider-Man coils his muscles like a loaded spring, ready to set off.

"Meh, rather not," Faux Panther mused with her fingers tapping her chin, mimicking a thoughtful expression. "But I wouldn't say no to you..." she falls into a stance, indicating some training in MMA as well, and she does have an advantage over him in gears.

Not that his regular Spidey suit can withstand Vibranium or anything.

"No claws? I don't wanna ruin this shirt, I have a date after this." He retorted as he felt his calves burning a bit from the stress that he put into them.

"Too bad, Spider," She replied in a sultry tone, weirdly making its way through the modulator, and springing her sharpened claws out of their hidden chambers "I like it dirty." Then she hissed and started rushing him.

First; he knows now that she got some kind of enhancement, but can't be sure whether it is purely physical or mechanical.

Second? She's a tease.

She contorted her lithe body to evade his attacks, purposefully flaunting her very...very prominent features at him as a distraction. She snakes her clawed hand up his biceps to initiate a lock, just for him to quickly counter it with a firm pull to pry her hand open.

"Hmm, strong hands." She purred again, using the gap of hesitation to deliver an over-shoulder throw that sent him flying into a nearby steel chair, his back collided with the metal frame and a grunt escaped his lips.

Quickly recovered, Peter yanked the steelware out of its place, pulling up anchor bolts along with some debris from the cracked floor, threw it backward, and quickly propelled it at the Teaser Cat with a shot of his web, which collided into her on her back as she attempted to dodge it with an off timing. A loud yelp could be heard but otherwise, the suit absorbed and dissipated all the damage as it was designed to.

"Oww, it's not nice to be rough in our first dance, Spider..." her purring tone was accompanied by the sound of those Vibranium claws tearing into steel, dismembering the chair they shared earlier.

"Preferably the last, if I can help it." He retorted with a more focused mind, calculating and planning how to subdue her quickly without any long-lasting damage.

He shoots his web, aimed at her ankle but she quickly tears it off, then he rushes down a valley of regular webs while moving to close the distance between them. She countered as much as she could, but the amount seemed to outpace her attempts, and Spider-Man managed to glue her clawed hands to her feet as his cartridges were empty.

He curses lowly as he remembers that he did not pack any spares tonight.

Before he could even jab a quip or a pun at his latest capture, she strained herself with newfound strength, and dislodged her hands from their positions, swiping quickly to cut the strands of chemicals between her feet. She sprang up as Peter was a bit taken aback, and landed a solid push-kick on his abdomen.

He gasps for air as he staggers backward, nursing the numb muscles where he was hit.

"I'm not a domestic kind, handsome, can't let you keep me all for yourself, now," She announced and pounced forward, claws primed and spread for maximum coverage. She fights like a gripper in a caged match; always aiming for weak points and intending fully to draw blood.

A sentiment he did not share.

So, utilizing his dexterity and superior reflexes, Peter countered her attacks with wrist-locks and joint manipulation, and he decided to introduce some of Capoeira's moves Matt taught him into the mix.

Faux Panther seemed to be fully on the defensive, quitting her teasing and flirting tactics to focus on his hands, so much so that an inhuman twist of his lower body managed to sneak in a surprise kick to the side of her head.

Now dizzy and seeing blurs, she tries to entangle herself from him; she had learned many techniques and counters since she came back from the Snap, to be able to defend herself while giving back as well, to not be helpless like...

She shook it off, trying to regain a clearer perspective. She was thankful to herself for getting this helmet along with the suit when she stole it from a Wakandan secret lab; the funny thing is that Wakandan's monarchy could never admit to establishing a black site on American soil, and she is so happy to exploit that loophole.

The suit practically absorbs 98% of kinetic forces applied to it; her steps are quieter, and the added protection from the world's most durable material is a big bonus, not to mention these claws that can cut through reinforced glass.

She rolled both of them to their sides, hooking her fists and aiming at his ribs when her hand got freed from the sudden movement. Spider-Man took it with grunts, braving himself through the drumming of hard metal that descended upon him.

He curled himself inward into a fetal position, using his arm to block another punch and lock her arm in the process when her fist collided with it. Straining their joint limbs to put pressure on her elbow, his adversary grunts and tries to maneuver herself out of his grab.

She tried clawing at his face with her other hand, managed just to unveil the scarf he wrapped around his head as a pseudo mask.

"Looks like you've got more than swinging and kicking!" Faux Panther roared, a rage replaced her usual demeanor, somehow slotting her leg under their joined arms, hooking on it hard, trying to break his hold on her.

The dimly lit room doesn't give much detail about his face, which he desperately tries to hide in any way he can while refusing to let her overpower him.

"Hope you like this!" she grunted, bringing another leg up alongside the previous one, and kicking his chin upwards with the sole of her boot.

His head snapped backward, his hold loosened a bit and she succeeded at detaching them from each other. She put some distance between them, falling into a crouch. He kick-flipped himself into his signature crouch as well, fingers barely touching the floor as the shade luckily obscured most of his face.

"Don't be shy, now. I won't judge." The faux panther purred.

"Hard pass, I don't think this is going to work." Spider-Man shot back, which earned him a distorted cackle.

"You would be surprised, Spider." She said, vaguely, and jumped at him again. He evades it gracefully and expects a hit or two from her direction, but when none comes, he turns.

She somehow secured the flash drive in her grip, jutting her chin upward "This is fun, but I have things to do, sorry." She announced and rushed for another cut-out hole in the glass. Peter cursed and quickly caught up to her, without much choice, he yanked a power cable out and stabbed the sparking cord at the area where he hoped Shuri put in as a failsafe in case any of it got stolen; no insulation of any kind, which made the thief susceptible to electrical shock when it made contact.

Somehow, before it can do anything as he intends, the cord tears off from the rest of its length.

The shaken panther whimpered as she quickly tossed her fried helmet off, revealing a person underneath.

"That's not so nice, Spider." She managed to let it out between her ragged breathing, sighing in defeat as now she got pushed against the glass, with Peter's face hovering over hers. Her sharp emeralds bore into his hazels, their shared air warming up from their previous exertions. His hands locked her arms upward above her head like a vise, and she admitted that a rush she felt right now came from his proximity and the way one of his legs was keeping hers separated.

"What do you want?" he asked out with a deeper tone, ignoring the way her platinum hair tickles his nose, or the pressure on his leg as she squeezes her thighs.

"That would be quite a list, cutie." She whispered to him, trying to bite his nose or any part that her teeth could catch in this position. "But I supposed you can have this? I don't really want it." She said as confusion spread on that cute face of his and dropped the dongle in front of them. The small thing landed in the canyon created by their pressed-up chests.

"What? Why?"

"Thrills, most of the time." She shrugged as she answered his question. "Also," she trailed off and without any prompt or hesitation, crashing her lips onto his.

Peter's senses go haywire, his body freezes as a shock washed over him. He could feel the way she pressed against his body and unintentionally moaned into it when she stabbed her tongue inside his slightly agape mouth.

A gasp made its way out as he felt a nudge, a painful one, collided with Peter junior, and he keeled over immediately.

"Mojito? Yummy..." The platinum-haired thief cooed and backflipped through the hole, onto a dropped cable from some hovercraft awaiting her extraction. "See you around...Peter Parker." His name on her lips almost jolts Peter out of his pain.

Just when he could breathe easy again and stand on his feet, her giggles faded into background noises as what seemed to be a modified version of Adrian Toomes's Vulture wings took her further and further out of his sight. He sighed and checked himself; torn shirt, slashed trousers, some small cuts here and there.

Great.

"How in the..." he muttered, brows furrowed in deep thought.

Whether he got a stalker, or she was someone from places he frequents, but then he should have recognized a woman like that, at the very least.

Or...

"Peter?" Gwen's voice pulled him out, and he cleared his throat before answering.

"I'm here, but the thief got away." He grunts as his manhood still feels a little sore from that perfect knee.

"You alright? I called NYPD about 5 minutes ago, Edith said they are almost here." The sound from her end depicted footsteps, hurried ones.

"Mostly intact. Got some cuts, but they are not deep." He informed her and took another deep breath.

"Okay. Where are you?" Gwen asked as the footsteps continued.

"Biology." He answered.

"I'm on my way." She replied.

Not long after, Gwen walked out of the elevator and quickly made her way to him, standing just outside the scene of Peter's early squabble.

"Don't stand there, you will leave evidence on the scene." She urged him to get out of the mess. When he stands beside her, she runs quick glances all over his body, noting wounds and some rapidly scabbing ones. Placing her hand on his chest, looking at him with furrowed brows.

"I'm okay, Gwen, really." He gave her a reassuring smile.

"You better," Gwen sighed with relief and looked over to the toppled equipment and some pile of metal. "What happened here?"

"Some Cat-Burglar," he replied with an air quote "was stealing some data, I got here, we fought a bit, and then she left without it." He presented the drive to her; Gwen took it in her hand and inspected it.

"How did she escape you?" Gwen shoots a curious expression at him, noticing the uneasiness and nervousness evident in his posture.

"A knee to the..." Peter trailed off and indicated to his groin. Gwen can't help but let out a cackle at his embarrassment.

"Ouch..." Gwen commented, but something seemed to be nagging at the back of his mind. "Something else on your mind?" she asked after a moment, gesturing for him to follow her to the elevator. While waiting for the ding of its arrival, Peter sighed with a confused expression and massaged his temples.

"She called me by name, Gwen, I don't know how, but she knows who I am as Spider-Man." He said and cursed lowly under his breath.

"Is that really a surprise? I mean, sure, you told me that you managed to destroy evidence of Peter Parker's association with Spidey, but I guess there was some slip-up?" Gwen offered with uncertainty in her reasoning; she didn't really know the extent of the method other than what Peter told her at the cemetery.

"It's...not possible, I will tell you more when we get back to mine; at least we can take a peek at what she wants while we are at it." He cut the conversation off as their ride stops, the elevator opens to a familiar face of Captain Stacy and Lieutenant Watanabe. The policemen give a quick overall inspection of both of them and can't help but notice the state of Peter's clothing.

"Dad!" Gwen squeaks.

"Gwen, and Peter?" Captain Stacy started with a confused tone, looking between the two "What's with the clothes? Looks like you've been in a fight." His concern oozes off his stoic features.

"Oh! Uhh...I was?" Peter trailed off with his goofy nervous grin but quickly recovered himself when George Stacy cleared his throat and crossed his arms. "I heard something in the Bio lab and came across this...Cat-Burglar. She tried to steal something in the lab and I kinda stopped her, but she escaped." Peter pandered like usual, but Gwen noticed a twitch in her father's posture at the mention of a cat burglar.

"That's dangerous, nerdboy," Yuri interjected with an incredulous look on her face; the Lieutenant and Gwen seems to share a passion in calling him by that name. "But seems like you didn't hurt much," Yuri's eyes roaming him head to toe, noticing some bruises starting to develop "but I think you might need to check in with a physician at General; those bruises usually look better than they are."

"Yeah, I guess." He shot Yuri a grin, nodding his head a little at the older policewoman.

"You don't tamper with anything at the scene?" George Stacy asked with hands on his hips, looking expectantly at both of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course! I mean, Pete almost did, but I stopped him!" Gwen chirped and Peter let out a 'hey!'

"Good," George let it go and turned to his lieutenant "Call in CSI, I need everything documented and wrapped up in two hours." He commanded and Yuri quickly complied, walking away just a bit to make a call.

"Any details you can give me about the suspect?" George produces a notepad out of his cargo pants pocket; one of many things Gwen adores her father about is his tendency to be low-tech.

"Half-European, not sure about the other half. Wearing a Black Panther suit." He replied, watching as George's eyes widened in question at the mention.

"Wakanda sending thieves on our country now?"

"Umm, no, sir. I don't think she was working for them."

"How?"

"Wakandan are conservatives and see themselves as superior to us, it's not likely they will send any foreign mercenary with one of their sacred items. She might have stolen them from somewhere, somehow."

"So, a professional, then." George mused to himself. "And, I don't like it, but we can't mention about this in an official report either; lest we wanna risk a war." The Captain of precinct 19th sighed in frustration.

Peter recalled the public announcement Queen Ramonda had basically told the world to keep their hands off Vibranium, and that Wakanda would retaliate if needs be.

"Mind keeping this intel to yourselves for a while, Peter? I have to discuss this with the higher-ups before we can move forward." George demanded.

"Aye, sir!" Peter mocks a salute, and George Stacy groans at his gesture.

"I'm not a marine," his eyes then turn to his daughter "You alright?" concerns wash over his face, eyes roaming his daughter for any sign of injuries.

"Yes, Dad. I'm not the one jumping at danger, this time." She shot a goofy grin at him, and George snorted with a smile.

"You gonna be at dinner this Friday? Your mom misses you too much, but I'd say she just finding excuses to have her stand-up comedy with Peter here." George turned into a lighthearted tone, gesturing at Peter's smiling face.

"You comin?" Gwen looks at Peter.

"Free food, classical songs, and a lovely lady that wants to dote on me? Ya bet!" Peter replied.

"You're gonna make Dad jealous one day, Pete, just warning ya." Gwen nudges her elbow at his rib with a toothy smirk.

George snorted again at the exchange, and noticed something that changed regarding his daughter's and Peter's interaction, and let out a knowing smirk of his own.

"If you remember anything else, meet me at my office, alright?" George firmly squeezes on Peter's shoulder and makes his way past them into the elevator.

"Floor 25th," Gwen informed her father.

Felicia lounges quite comfortably on the couch in her apartment; one that was paid for by her benefactor.

The delivery went smoothly, and her plan to play a decoy with Spider-Man was a success.

She sips the red wine that she nicked from some rich penthouse weeks ago, relishing the tart and aroma of it.

Licking her lips, she recalls the faint sensation of Peter Parker's on them; no bitterness from smoking, only the recent beverage he took before their dance. Stretching a bit to chase the sore he left on her by that metal chair, she hums along to the quiet music in the background.

In all seriousness, she did not kiss the Spider out of attraction or infatuation but pure tactic; she rarely has an interest in physical intimacy since... touching was as far as she is willing to let very few people do.

The bruises and numbness were all gone, a long time ago, but the phantom pain still hovering above her mind, trying to remind her of what happened with her eyes squint shut tightly.

She was walking down the vacant alley, heading for her father's rendezvous location he texted her using his burner beforehand.

Then the surroundings shift for her, suddenly there are a group of junkies looking wide-eyed in her direction.

Then...two of them got closer...one wrapped his hands around her wrists...another clocked her squarely in the jaw, knocking her down in the process...the taste of iron filled her mouth...dragged away into the deeper part...she fought some of them off...but with more of them in the mix, she can't do much...one managed to do what he wanted, but when another one was about to tag in, he appears in her teary sight.

Tall, bulky, built like a human tank, and dressed in a white suit. A look of disgust accompanied his chubby face as he made quick work of them with haymakers to their faces, blood spilled like geysers when each fell to the ground, groaning or outright passing out from the impact. He then spoke in that deep voice of his, crouching down at her side and quickly draping his jacket over her torn shirt and shaking form.

He called for someone, and stayed with her until the EMT arrived. She came to in a hospital with a bouquet and a note, along with a parchment. She read the note, finding the name of her savior to be none other than Wilson Fisk; the notorious Kingpin himself. Inside the parchment, folded a document of a death certificate with the name of Walter Hardy.

Her father passed away, lung cancer apparently.

The year seems to be impossible; 2022.

She cried, well into midnight.

A notification on her phone breaks her out of the darkness inside, sighing deeply as she looks over the message and dials the number as instructed.

"Yes?" she greeted the other end.

"What are you up to, Felicia?" Fisk asked in that casual tone when talking to someone close to him, someone he trusted enough.

For years since she decided to work for him as a form of showing gratitude, Wilson Fisk treated her like a niece he had long lost. Occasionally bought things for her apartment that he also bought in her name. She can point to which of the decorations were from him.

"Chilling, having a wine." She answered, sipping the mentioned beverage.

"Vanessa wanted to know if you will be having dinner with us?" Fisk asked again, the mention of his wife brings a smile to her face.

"I would love to, Uncle Willy, but I am too tired at the moment. Maybe another time?" she offered, which her benefactor seemed to be accepting of the idea.

"Of course, you have done a spectacular job tonight, after all." A hint of satisfaction seeps through his voice.

She let him end the call, placing the phone down again after some quick scroll through some social media. Reading some of the funny threads regarding @NYCSpoodey.

Another surge of memory resurfaced again, this time of more confusion than pain.

She stood among crowds of New Yorkers, dressed in black and white, looking at the gigantic monitor displaying a video of a high school student who is in a Spider-Man costume, talking and apologizing to the public; which she finds ridiculous, according to earlier threads regarding the explosion nearby, Peter Parker lost his aunt.

But now, he's here, apologizing to everyone undeserving of his misguided righteousness.

He can be anything else with that kind of skill and power. She would even imagine him turning into a criminal out of a silly curiosity.

Some drones and helicopters were sent into the battleground that is Liberty Island, streaming the fight between Spider-Men and the villains that suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

After a while, the monitor glitches out, and a candid photo of Peter Parker's dorky grin at the right bottom corner blinks out of existence, and is replaced by Spider-Man's mugshot.

Even Jameson stops referring to Spider-Man as Peter Parker completely when he is giving reports about the incident, claiming to still be oblivious to the Wall Crawler's identity.

That's when she knows something's not right, not to mention a heavy set of vertigo she experienced during the glitches.

Somehow, Peter Parker managed to make everyone forget about him.

Except her.

To this day, she is still trying to find that eluding piece of the puzzle.

"Peter Parker..." she whispered his name, feeling the feel of it rolling off her tongue.

Wilson Fisk is having dinner with his fascinating woman of a wife. Small talks. Flirts. Business discussions.

The time went by, and his mind wandered to the plan he got in place for a time.

And tonight, the little stray he saved had kick-started it as he told her to.

A satisfying smile formed on his lips, averting attention back to Vanessa.

*STF = Shear Thickening Fluid; or non-Newtonian fluid, can be applied in body armor against impact force like bicycle and motorcycle protective suits.

Chapter Text

Characters background and notes

Part 1 (chapter 1-3)

Peter Parker/Spider-Man

1. Is 20 years old.

2. Currently enrolled and taking Biochemistry and Engineering majors at Empire States University on full-ride intuition based upon his enrollment presentation of prototype nanomachines (straight up fleeced from his research back when interned at Stark Industries) but got conned by a retiring professor and essentially his work stolen.

3. Have part-time jobs as assistant cook at Nehal’s restaurant on Saturday, and an elderly caretaker on Sunday.

4. Last time he visited Avengers compound was three years ago, after the Liberty statue fiasco settled down and he went to received a temporary resignation notice following his allegation of Mysterio murder, retrieved some personal items such as his spare suit, Stark laptop, and luckily did not have to personally wipe all personal data because Strange’s spell already done that (somehow).

5. Spidey is officially now just a vigilante and has no tie to the Avengers, until proven innocence and register by the council after (Matt Murdock and Jennifer Walters are in collaboration to make a case and deal with the allegation, but it will take times).

6. He made friends with some peers and notably Harrison Osborne; one of the elite students.

7. Due to his late enrollment, Peter is older than most of his same year students by a year in advance.

8. With joint efforts with Daredevil, Jessica Jones, and Luke Cage; Patrol was partitioned out so that it do not affected his civilian life as much as he thought, leaving some free time to do other think than vigilantism (yet he poured them into improving his gadgets and Suits than hanging out with friends anyway).

Gwen Stacy

1. Oldest of Capt. George Stacy of NYPD, she is now 19 years old.

2. Taking Genetic Engineering at ESU.

3. One of the Remained back when Thanos assembled the Infinity Stones in 2018, spent years living in a shelter and some foster homes because most of her family got decimated except for herself and her younger brother.

4. Have an interest in Peter after a group study where he argued with her professor about some errors in genetic study.

5. Like colors green and indigo, mostly dressed in one or both palettes.

6. Part-time Volunteer at F.E.A.S.T. center.

7. Have gym days on Tuesday and Friday, 6AM to 7AM.

Felicia Hardy/Black Cat

1. Is now 23 years old.

2. One of the Decimated in 2018.

3. Lost her father, Walter Hardy, in 2022 by Lung Cancer.

4. Took a liking to life of crime since the age of 16, running errands and burglary for various Maggia dons, and mainly a regular employee of Wilson Fisk due to her father’s affiliation with the crime lord.

5. Broke into the Wakandan NA secret research center in 2025, stolen some Vibranium and a prototype of Shuri’s Black Panther suit.

6. Refurbished the Black Panther suit to improve her burglary and taking more difficult jobs ever since.

7. Hired by Fisk to infiltrate the bio lab inside Oscorp, for some genetic enhancers based off of Spider-Man’s blood samples collected from many sites since The Vulture incident.

Supporting casts

Doctor Susan Storm, PhD.

 Renowned Biochemist and one of Micro-Engineering pioneers.

 Peter’s supervisor and boss at RAC (Richards Aerospace Corporation).

 Head Researcher of Research and Development department of RAC.

 One of Gwen’s role models.

Reed Richards.

 Founder and CEO of Richards Aerospace Corporation.

 Currently in contract with NASA.

 Have infatuation for one of his employee; Susan Storm, and it affected his judgement significantly in matters regarding projects and approval in R&D department.

 In development of his own AI for RAC.

Captain George Stacy.

 Gwen’s dad.

 NYPD captain with mild aggression towards Spider-Man’s vigilantism.

 Actually a chill guy outside of work.

 Likes Peter and actually encouraged his daughter to date the guy.

Matt Murdock/Daredevil.

 Defender of Hell’s Kitchen.

 Martial Arts mentor to Spider-Man.

 Currently trying to make a plea on Spider-Man’s murder allegation alongside Jennifer Walters.

Jessica Jones, Private Investigator.

 Information provider for the Defenders.

 Mostly work alongside Matt/Daredevil in some cases.

 Unintended detective mentor to Spider-Man.

 LOVES to tease and make fun of Daredevil and Spider-Man.