Peter POV – Visions Academy
The gossip train hadn't slowed down, it had upgraded into a bullet train.
" Parker saved Spider-woman again? What does he see in her?"
"I heard he jumped out the window right after her speech. Who even does that?"
"Bro, I swear he's either Batman or he's dating Spider-Woman. No in-between."
My locker door slammed a little harder than it needed to. Gwen leaned against the one beside it, smirk painted across her lips.
"Still the talk of the school, Mr. Window-Diver."
I deadpanned. "I'm considering charging admission at this point."
"Careful." She teased, brushing her shoulder against mine. "You'll start trending before math class."
I grinned, lowering my voice. "And miss the chance to humiliate Leeds in gym again? No way."
Her laugh was soft, easy. Like none of the whispers mattered. For a heartbeat, it felt normal.
Too normal.
SHIELD, Operations office
Nick Fury stood with arms folded, watching a wall of screens replay Peter's latest heroics: the blur of motion that was his Sandevistan dash, the brutal precision in the Vulture fight, the way he wrestled the lizard like it was nothing.
Maria Hill scrolled through the feed. "The kid's sloppy with cover identity but his physicals don't match any baseline. Nanotech is certain but we don't know if he has other bio-enhancements. That… thing he did with the broken wing blade wasn't improvisation. That was psychological warfare."
Fury's one good eye narrowed. "Doesn't matter if it's trained or instinct. Kid's a walking question mark. Question is, do we bring him in or keep watching?"
Hill arched a brow. "Think your agents could take him if it came to it?"
Fury's silence was answer enough.
Parker Household, Evening
The knock on the door was ordinary. The man behind it wasn't.
Tony Stark, leaning casual in a suit, sunglasses at dusk like he hadn't read the memo.
"Mr. Parker. Mrs. Parker." His grin was sharp, practiced. "Tony Stark. You've got a hell of a porch light problem. Loose neutral in the wiring. You're welcome for the free consultation."
Uncle Ben arched a brow. " Tony Stark fixing my porch light? I'm gonna brag to the whole neighborhood."
"In the flesh and yes you should."
Peter came skidding down the stairs, nearly tripping over himself. "Mr. Stark. Uh—hi. Why are you in my living room?"
Tony strolled in like he owned the place. "Because S.H.I.E.L.D. showed me highlight reels of you going WWE on a lizard and outpacing drones like it was track day. I had to see if you're real or just some deepfake fever dream."
Aunt May fussed with teacups while Ben brewed coffee. Tony leaned against the counter, eyes fixed on Peter like he was a riddle he hadn't solved yet while also glancing at Peter's Sandevistan. Two different glows from different machines illuminated the room.
"So. Basement tinkering. Sci fi-level tech in high school packaging. Where's that coming from, kid?"
Peter hesitated. Then, in typical Peter fashion, he blurted, "I cracked your element problem a while ago."
The room froze.
Tony straightened, sunglasses sliding off. "Run that back. Slowly."
"The palladium loop. Toxicity. I modeled a replacement lattice, stabilized it. Before you…" Peter trailed off, realizing mid-sentence that he was talking to Iron Man. "…before your version and built it into your arc reactor."
Tony blinked once. Then laughed, not dismissive, not mocking. Sharp. Surprised.
"You're telling me you solved the puzzle that kept me up at night while juggling geometry homework?"
"Geometry's easy." Peter muttered.
Uncle Ben choked on his coffee. Aunt May looked like she was debating whether to ground me until I was thirty or brag about me to the whole neighborhood.
Tony studied me a long beat, then smirked faintly. "You're dangerous, Parker. Because you don't know how dangerous you are. Keep that brain of yours on a leash or one day S.H.I.E.L.D's gonna stop watching and start knocking."
With that, he slipped his sunglasses back on and headed for the door.
"Pleasure meeting you. Oh, and kid?" He glanced back, smirk widening. "Don't build anything that makes me obsolete. Bad for my brand."
Door shut. Silence.
"Geometry, Peter?" Aunt May's voice cut sharp.
"…I got an A?" I offered weakly.
SHIELD Safehouse
Maria Hill tapped a new alert on her tablet. "Stark just paid him a visit."
Fury muttered, "Of course he did."
On screen, footage of Peter flickered again—this time spliced with Spider-Woman's speech and Peter helping her.
"Kid's not just a blip anymore." Fury said quietly. "He's a player. Question is… which side of the board he's on."
Gwen POV:
I found Peter on the fire escape, wearing a white sando, neon orange pulsing along the length of his spine, staring out at the skyline like he expected Tony Stark to descend again with a marching band.
"So," I said, leaning beside him. "How does it feel? Iron Man in your kitchen, your aunt starstruck and your uncle trying not to spill coffee on a billionaire?"
He groaned into his hands. "Kill me. Please."
I smirked. "Not a chance. You're too much fun when you're mortified."
He peeked at me, eyes narrowing. "He said I'm dangerous."
"You are," I said softly, nudging his arm with mine. "Dangerous to Oscorp. Dangerous to villains. Dangerous to my sanity sometimes."
"That last one's your fault." He muttered.
"Oh really?" I arched a brow. "Remind me who jumped out of a second-story window in front of half the neighborhood?"
He winced. "That one's… ninety percent my fault. Ten percent Sandevistan."
I laughed quietly, letting the silence settle. Then, more serious: "Hey. For what it's worth… I don't care what Stark or others think you are. To me, you're still Peter. The guy who brings me coffee when I'm up too late. The guy who keeps making armor sketches even though spandex works fine. The guy who makes me laugh when the city feels too heavy."
His gaze softened, vulnerable in a way Peter rarely let anyone see. "You make me sound… good."
"You are good." I bumped my shoulder against his. "Now shut up before I make fun of your geometry flex again."
He groaned. "Never living that down, am I?"
"Not a chance."
And we sat there, two kids balancing secrets bigger than the city, laughing like maybe tomorrow wouldn't break us.
Read 20 chapters ahead on P.A.T.R.E.O.N
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