SLAP!
Nathan's head jerked to the side.
"OW okay, I'm up, I'm up!"
He blinked rapidly, wincing, as the red-haired woman loomed over him, arms crossed, eyebrow raised like she'd been waiting too long.
"You up, kid?" she repeated, voice cool but amused.
Nathan sat up on his bed, dazed. His Spider-Man suit was still half on with his pants wrinkled, chest bare and bruised. "You slap all your guests awake?"
"Only the ones drooling on their pillows," she said, straightening.
His eyes adjusted to the dim room, the moonlight casting a silver sheen across her black jumpsuit. She was stunning like assassin-meets-runway-model levels of intimidating beauty.
He blinked. "W-who are you again?"
She reached into a pocket and pulled out a phone. A video played. Nathan squinted.
It was him. At the Stark Expo. Behind a food truck. Pulling off his mask. Changing too quickly, too carelessly. A shaky phone cam had caught it all.
He groaned and dropped his face into his hands. "I knew I should've gone into a bathroom."
She smirked. "Too late for regrets."
"So… Avengers Initiative. Who are you, really?"
"Natasha Romanoff," she said, straightening with professional grace. "Agent of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division."
Nathan blinked. "You guys really committed to the world's worst acronym, huh?"
She cracked a smile. "We go by S.H.I.E.L.D."
"That's better. Still sounds like an old cop drama but okay. So Avengers?"
She nodded. "A program. A team. Designed to gather individuals with extraordinary abilities. To protect the world when no one else can."
Nathan raised a brow. "Protect it from what?"
"Everything."
He stared at her for a beat. Then grinned. "Okay, well, first of all? Terrible acronym. Second? 'Avengers' is a killer name. Third… who's on the team?"
Natasha narrowed her eyes slightly. "That's classified."
He shrugged. "Right, right. Super spy stuff."
She stepped forward, handed him a sleek black phone. "When it's time, we'll call you."
Nathan took it slowly, looked up. "That's it?"
"For now," she said, moving toward the window. "See you soon… Spider."
With that, she vanished into the night, like a shadow.
Nathan looked at the phone in his hand and exhaled. "It's been a long day."
Two Months Later
Somewhere beneath Oscorp Tower, the elevator hummed as it descended.
Norman Osborn stood inside, his expression unreadable. When the doors opened, he stepped into the private, high-security lab beneath the city with the walls lined with experimental tech, mutated blueprints, and cold ambition.
At the far end, a blond man stood facing a suit that is armored, with jagged lines and a mechanical tail curling behind it like a scorpion ready to strike.
Norman approached, voice low. "Gargan. You know your mission."
The man turned. His eyes were cold, his face tight with anticipation.
"Capture a bug," Mac Gargan said. "Sounds easy."
WHOOOSH.
Spider-Man swung low between two buses, just above the speeding SUV tearing down 3rd Avenue. He was upside down, dangling from a web, smartphone tucked between his ear and shoulder, chatting like it was a casual stroll.
"Peter, I'm literally in the middle of a car chase. You seriously called to talk about asking MJ to the dance?"
On the other end of the line, Peter's voice was tight with nerves. "Yes! Because it's this Saturday and it's Wednesday ! And I've rehearsed the speech like seventeen times and wait, you're swinging while talking to me?!"
Nathan flipped mid-air, narrowly avoiding a lamppost. The wind howled past his mask.
"Multitasking, baby. I'm the genius version of a crash test dummy."
From below, the criminals in the SUV fired out the window with their pistol shots cracking. Bystanders screamed. Spider-Man twisted out of the way, landing on a streetlight.
"Whoa! Hey! You guys know this is not how the Fast & Furious audition works, right?"
He flicked a web-line, snagged the back of the SUV, and got yanked forward like a kite.
"Anyway, Peter don't overthink it. Just ask her."
"What if she says no?"
"Then we drown in sorrow together, ice cream and sad movies. But, spoiler alert: MJ likes you. She'd go even if you wore a trash bag and forgot to shower."
A bullet whizzed past his ear.
"Which, by the way, is how you looked in sophomore year."
Peter groaned on the line. "You're not helping!"
"I'm literally chasing five armed criminals. I am helping. With style."
Nathan let go of the line, flipping forward and landing on the roof of the SUV. The vehicle swerved violently.
Inside, the five men panicked two in ski masks, one bald with a gold tooth, the driver shouting into a radio.
"GET HIM OFF THE CAR!"
"Too late!" Spider-Man shouted, slamming both fists into the windshield. "Delivery for: justice, karma, and your insurance premiums!"
The driver tried to shake him. Spider-Man webbed the side mirror and yanked himself off the roof, swinging underneath the SUV and sticking a webline between the front tires.
"Note to self: attach webbing before giving sassy one-liners."
The webbing tightened, caught the axle then BOOM!
The SUV spun out, tires skidding, flipping onto its side with a screech of metal and a shower of sparks.
Spider-Man flipped out of the wreck and landed with a casual superhero pose on a nearby fire hydrant.
"And that, boys and girls, is why you always wear your seat belts."
Groaning, the five crooks crawled out until webbing slapped each of them to the ground, gluing hands to pavement and guns to lampposts.
Spider-Man wiped imaginary sweat off his brow.
"Okay, Peter. Now I'm done. What were we talking about….oh yeah, your romantic anxiety."
Peter snorted through the phone. "How are you not arrested?"
"Charisma," Nathan said. "And a butt the internet would defend in court."
"You're the worst."
"You're welcome. Now go ask MJ to the dance before I web 'Will You Go With Me' on her locker in glitter."
"You wouldn't…"
"You don't know me at all, Peter."
Sirens wailed as NYPD swarmed the scene. Spider-Man zipped upward, perched on a billboard, still talking as he swung away.
"Tell me how it goes. Unless it goes badly, then lie to me."
Midtown High – New York City
WHOOOSH!
Nathan backpack slung over one shoulder, earbuds in, hoodie zipped and landed lightly behind the school, ducked into a side door, and walked into the bustling hall just in time for third period.
He spotted Peter near his locker, muttering into a notecard.
Nathan strolled over, grabbed the card, and tore it clean in half.
"Dude!"
Nathan just gave him a look. "Peter. Eight words."
Peter blinked. "What?"
"Eight. Words. That's all it takes to ask MJ to the dance. Eight."
Peter exhaled like he was preparing for battle. "This is gonna go so bad."
"Deep breaths, Romeo," Nathan said, biting back a grin. "You look like you're about to defuse a bomb."
Peter's eyes flicked over to MJ standing just twenty feet away. Her red hair glowed under the fluorescent lights as she laughed with her friends, totally oblivious to the internal collapse of a lovestruck teenage genius behind her.
"I… I'm gonna puke."
"Please don't. You'll ruin your chances and the janitor's day."
MJ turned, walking alone now.
Nathan gave Peter a light push. "Showtime."
Peter stumbled forward like a wind-up toy on its last leg.
"H-Hey! Uh….MJ! Hi!"
She looked up and smiled. "Hey, Peter."
"I… uh… I was thinking…..not like, overthinking, but just, like, casually considering, um… the dance. Not like, in a weird way. Just-just a human way. Totally human. You know, being human and thinking about dances and you… not you-you, but like—"
MJ tilted her head. "Are you asking me to the dance, or auditioning for a seizure PSA?"
Nathan snorted so loud someone turned.
Peter squeezed his eyes shut, then blurted, "Would you go to the dance with me?"
Silence.
Then MJ smiled, reached forward, and kissed him gently on the cheek.
"I'd love to."
Peter froze. Mouth open. Brain melted.
She winked and walked past.
Nathan clapped slowly. "My man. Absolutely faceplanted your way into success."
Peter stared, dazed. "She kissed me."
"She did."
"She said yes."
"She did."
"I didn't die."
"Character development, baby."
⸻
Lunch Period – Cafeteria
Nathan and Peter sat side-by-side, trays untouched.
Harry Osborn slid into the seat across from them with a triumphant grin. "Gwen said yes."
Peter grinned. "MJ said yes too."
Harry blinked. "Wait… no way. Seriously?"
Nathan smirked. "After Peter almost had a full-blown panic attack."
Peter shoved him lightly. "You're never gonna let that go, are you?"
Harry laughed. "Absolutely not."
Then he looked at Nathan. "So, who are you taking, Nate? You know Liz has a crush on you, right?"
Nathan shrugged. "I'm not going."
Peter frowned, catching the shift in his tone. "Are you sure you can't take a break for one night?"
Nathan looked away, jaw tight. "I can't."
Before anyone could respond, Nathan's phone buzzed. He glanced at it.
Alert: Armed Robbery – Midtown Jewelry Exchange. Suspect identified: Mechanical tail. Approach with caution.
He stood up.
"I have to use the bathroom."
Harry raised a brow. "During lunch?"
Nathan was already gone.
Peter watched him go, a knot forming in his gut.