Peter's first person view
I squatted by the old air conditioner, the warm metallic smell of dust and rust filling my nose as I pried open the panel. The machine wheezed like it was on its last breath.
Peter:Mrs. Anderson, it's quite old, that's why it's having issues
I said, brushing my hands against my jeans.
Her kind, wrinkled face lit up with relief.
Mrs Anderson:Thank you, Peter. You only took a glance at it and you've already found the problem. The others were right, you truly are a genius.
I let out a small laugh, one of those forced chuckles to deflect attention.
Peter:Well… that and—
Structural Analysis: Active.
My vision shifted. Not in a physical, glowing-eyes way, but like an overlay slid across my sight. Circuits, wiring, cracks, tension points all of it revealed itself in sharp, detailed lines. The system whispered every weakness to me, every screw begging for a turn, every bolt crying out that it was loose.
Yeah, thanks to my system, I thought inwardly, tightening a panel.
As my hands moved with a confidence that wasn't entirely my own, my mind drifted. Let's rewind a little. Name's Peter Parker, seventeen years old, painfully average teenager. Or I was. A month ago, Flash Thompson decided my face was the perfect punching bag. I got my ass whooped, slammed my head hard on the concrete, and something snapped. When I came to, I wasn't just Peter Parker anymore. I remembered. I was Connor. Some university student in another world, the one you're in right now the boring, non-superhero, taxes-and-deadlines Earth.
Connor died pushing a little girl out of the way of Truck-kun. Classic isekai setup, except instead of waking up in some fantasy kingdom with elves and magic swords, I ended up here. Marvel.
At first, I freaked out. This wasn't just some TV show background noise. This was the Marvel universe. And not even the stable, predictable one it was some weird variant. Out of all the people I could've reincarnated as, I had dreams. I would've taken Tony Stark, with his money and brains. Or Reed Richards same deal and with a bonus of smashing Susan storm with the ability to grow your schlong....and I'm getting off topic, but with stretchy powers and fewer drinking problems. Even Stephen Strange before his accident, because at least he was loaded.
Instead, I got Peter Parker. Don't get me wrong, I loved Spider-Man as a kid. I wore the pajamas, the mask, climbed walls until I broke my arm once. But the older I got, the more I realized Peter's life is one long cosmic joke. He never gets a break. Ever.
Think about it: Gwen Stacy? Dead. Uncle Ben? Dead. Captain Stacy? Dead. His marriage with MJ? Retconned out of existence. And whenever he gets close to happiness, something or someone yanks it away like a cruel puppeteer. Reading those comics as Connor, I used to think, "man, this guy can't catch a break." Living it as Peter? It's worse. He's brilliant enough to create billion-dollar tech out of junk in his bedroom, yet he stays broke because cue the line "with great power comes great responsibility." Yeah, well, responsibility doesn't pay the rent.
I screwed a bolt back in, listening to the machine sputter back to life. The AC rattled weakly but kept breathing. Basically, I was prolonging its suffering, like putting a band-aid on a terminal patient.
When I woke up as Peter, I made rules. Choice number one: do not become Spider-Man. Choice number two: save Uncle Ben and MJ Choice number three: screw MJ—she's one of the biggest reasons comic Peter's life is hell. Choice number four: survive, no matter what.
And if not MJ, then Gwen Stacy, at least. Yeah, she dies too, but there are others Peter could've had something with Felicia Hardy, the Black Cat, who actually accepted Spider-Man for who he was. Or even Cindy Moon, Silk. Hell, even Liz Allen if you want normal. There were choices. He just never took them.
And then came the system.
[System HUD Loading…]
Profile: Peter Parker (Connor Reincarnated)
Age: 17
Status: Healthy (Headaches: Occasional)
Energy:50/50
Funds: $97.50
Current Objectives: Survive. Save Uncle Ben. Save Gwen Stacy. Get Rich. DO NOT Become Spider-Man.
Next Unlock: 22 hours, 14 minutes.
Skills/Gadgets/abilities:
Mundane: Perfect Memory Recall (active), Lock Picking (basic), Bus Tickets (used 3/5).
Common: Basic Martial Arts (Shotokan Karate, green belt level), Smoke Bomb (x2).
Uncommon: Enhanced Senses (sight + hearing minor boost).
Rare: Structural Analysis (active)(cost 10 per minute)
Epic: [LOCKED]
Legendary: [LOCKED]
Mythic: [LOCKED]
Primordial: [LOCKED]
Yeah, doesn't look that impressive, does it? In one month, I've only unlocked one rare skill. The rest? Useful, but come on lock picking? Smoke bombs? Karate? This is Marvel. People shoot lasers, gods drop hammers from the sky, The Galaxy's Most Annoying HOA President. ("The grass on your home planet is 0.5 microns too long. That's a snapping.") Is still out there and a green rage monster that can level cities and did i forget leaks radiation. And I'm sitting here with karate and a bus ticket.
But I can't ignore it. The system is real, and it's all I've got.
I tightened another wire, and Mrs. Anderson smiled, watching me like I was some prodigy. If only she knew.
The timeline was off. Things didn't line up with the comics or movies I knew. For one, it was too modern—phones, internet, tech level. Mutants weren't hidden in shadows here; they were openly acknowledged that they exist of course but well they are still you know discriminated against. I guess people of colors in this universe finally get a clean break on this one.
The X-Men were whispered about, but they existed. Stark Industries was still a thing, but Tony hadn't built the Iron Man suit yet just some flashy tech CEO with military contracts. Bruce Banner? AWOL, no Hulk sightings at all. Thor? No hammer-wielding blonde guy on the news, just myths. The Avengers? Not even an idea yet.
I wasn't sure if this was Earth-616, the MCU, or something else entirely. Which made it worse. Because I couldn't predict anything perfectly.
My goal was simple: survive. Save Uncle Ben, save Gwen Stacy. Get rich, somehow. Stay out of the Spider-Man spotlight. No red-and-blue spandex, no newspaper calling me a menace.
Sounds easy, right?
Except nothing in this universe is ever easy.
Timeskip
I finally got home, shutting the door behind me as the faint smell of garlic and tomato sauce drifted in from the kitchen. Aunt May was humming softly to herself, wooden spoon clinking against the pot. Uncle Ben was seated at the table, newspaper folded neatly beside his coffee mug. He looked up the second he heard me.
Uncle Ben:You fixed Mrs. Anderson's air conditioner
he said, his tone carrying that proud little smile he always wore when I did something useful.
Peter:Not really fixing,
I answered, slipping my backpack onto the chair and rolling my shoulders.
Peter:More like making it hate me by prolonging its suffering. But hey she paid me twenty bucks. That's a good deal in my book.
Uncle Ben chuckled, leaning back in his chair with that grandfatherly sigh of amusement.
Uncle Ben:Twenty bucks, huh? You undercutting the actual repair guys again?
Peter:Not undercutting
I said quickly, raising my hands like a lawyer defending his case.
Peter:more like… low-budget handyman services. You know, fix things just enough so people don't call in the real professionals yet. It's capitalism at its finest. Supply and demand.
He raised an eyebrow.
Uncle Ben:Pretty sure capitalism isn't supposed to mean charging old ladies less than half the going rate.
Peter:Hey, she's happy, I'm twenty bucks richer, and the AC's not dead yet. Everybody win
I said, tossing myself into the seat opposite him.
Peter:Besides, you think she'd pay someone else a hundred bucks to poke at that ancient piece of junk? No way. I'm the cheaper alternative.
From the kitchen, Aunt May laughed lightly without turning around

Aunt May:Don't let him fool you, Ben. He acts like a businessman, but he was grinning ear to ear when Mrs. Anderson called him a genius earlier.
How did she know
My ears burned red immediately.
Peter:I was not grinning.
Uncle Ben:You were grinning,
Uncle Ben said, smirking as he sipped his coffee.
I groaned, dropping my head onto the table dramatically.
Peter:I fix one machine and suddenly the house committee decides to roast me alive.
"Not roasting," Aunt May said sweetly, stirring the sauce with her spoon.
Aunt May:Just pointing out how proud we are. Not many seventeen-year-olds can fix an air conditioner with nothing but a screwdriver and a bit of stubbornness.
I lifted my head and gave a half-smile.
Peter:Yeah, well, stubbornness is like my main character trait. That and sarcasm.
Uncle Ben chuckled.
Uncle Ben:Don't forget the part where you charge less than a pizza delivery guy makes in tips.
"Hey," I said, holding up a finger,
Peter:twenty bucks is twenty bucks. You know how many comic books that is? Or, like… half a video game on discount?
"Or," Uncle Ben said, raising his brow,
Ben:you could save it. Put it away. Build something better with it. You've got brains, kid. Real brains. That money could be the start of something.
I leaned back, rubbing my neck. He didn't know how close he was to the truth. If only he knew about the system and the way it dangled skills and gadgets like treats in front of me. "Yeah, I'll save it," I muttered, though I knew he'd see right through me.
Aunt May spoke again, her voice gentle but teasing.
Aunt May:Don't roll your eyes at your uncle, Peter. He just wants you to think ahead.
Peter:I wasn't rolling my eyes!
I protested, and both of them laughed, which only made me roll them for real this time.
Uncle Ben leaned forward, folding his hands on the table.
Uncle Ben;You know, Pete, when I was your age, I'd mow lawns, shovel snow, do odd jobs. But you, you're different. You've got a knack for things. That's not something to waste. You could be charging double, triple even, if you wanted.
"I don't know," I said, shrugging.
Peter:Feels wrong to rip people off. Like, sure, I could charge fifty bucks for a tune-up, but then they're basically broke and I'm sitting here with blood money in my wallet. Not my style.
He tilted his head.
Uncle Ben:Blood money? For fixing an air conditioner?
Peter:Metaphorical blood money
I corrected, tapping the table.
Peter:it's like squeezing juice out of a stone. People around here aren't rich, you know? They're just… surviving. So yeah, I take twenty bucks, make them smile, and call it a day. Win-win.
Uncle Ben smiled softly, a mixture of pride and worry.
Uncle Ben:That's a good heart you've got there, Peter. Just don't let it blind you to your own worth.
I swallowed, trying to play it off with another shrug.
Peter:Yeah, yeah. I hear you.
But deep down, I knew. He was right. The comics had drilled it into me before Peter Parker never valued himself enough. He'd sacrifice everything, even his own happiness, just to make sure others were okay especially when they don't deserve it yeah I'm talking about you MJ. I wasn't going to fall into that trap. Not this time. Not in this life.
Aunt May placed the spoon down and wiped her hands on a towel, coming to the table. She looked exactly like Aunt Cass from Big Hero 6, which was still weird as hell, but comforting too. And for the record, no—don't even think about it, disgusting readers. She's my aunt. End of story.
She ruffled my hair, making me groan.
Aunt May:You're a good boy, Peter. Maybe one day you'll see it the way we do.
I squirmed out of her reach.
Peter:stop calling me a boy, I'm seventeen. Practically a man.
Uncle Ben snorted into his coffee.
Uncle Ben:Sure, Mr. Man, now take the trash out after dinner.
I threw my hands up.
Peter:See? No respect in this house.
Aunt May:Plenty of respect
Aunt May said with a smile.
Aunt May:But you're still taking out the trash.
I slouched back in my chair, muttering under my breath.
Peter:Twenty bucks richer, but still the family errand boy. What a life.
Uncle Ben laughed again, the kind of laugh that warmed the whole room, and for a moment, the weight of the Marvel universe, the danger lurking in every corner, and the rules I'd set for myself… they all felt far away. Here, in this little house with them, I was just Peter. Just a kid. And I wanted to hold onto that for as long as I could.
There you have it... this is my first marvel story
Hope y'all like it and please comment on the addition you wish for me to add for this fanfic