Not Just a Pretty Face
The moment Peter landed on the rooftop of his dorm, he let out a slow, shaky breath. His hands were still curled into fists, tension thrumming through his muscles. The black suit pulsed against his skin, like a living extension of himself, amplifying everything—the frustration, the exhaustion, the rage.
Too much.
“ERIC, deactivate,” he muttered.
The black tendrils of the suit slowly receded from his body, slithering away like retreating shadows. The sensation was almost reluctant, as if the suit had enjoyed its time out. Peter clenched his jaw and walked over to the small containment unit in the corner of his dorm. He pulled it open, revealing a reinforced canister lined with vibranium plating.
He pressed a button, and the last strands of the suit peeled off him, dripping into the canister like liquid ink. The moment the last drop was inside, the lid sealed shut with a hiss, the energy locks activating.
Contained. Safe. Away from him.
Peter exhaled, running a hand through his hair. He stared at the canister for a moment, his reflection barely visible in its glossy surface. The black suit had its uses, but every time he wore it, there was a part of him that liked it too much.
He shook his head, stripped out of his undersuit, and collapsed onto his bed.
Tomorrow was another day.
The Next Morning – Baxter Building
Peter had barely rubbed the sleep out of his eyes when ERIC’s voice chimed in his ear.
“Sir, it is time for you to head to the Baxter Building.”
Peter groaned. “Five more minutes.”
“I have already accounted for your procrastination. Five minutes are up.”
He cracked one eye open to see the digital clock glowing on his nightstand. Right on cue.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m up,” he muttered, swinging his legs off the bed. He pulled on a simple black hoodie and jeans, ran a hand through his messy hair, and grabbed his backpack. As he stepped outside, ERIC’s voice hummed in his earpiece.
“Would you like me to draft an apology for Dr. Storm in case you arrive late?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “No, ERIC. I’m not late. And it was just one day.”
“Just covering all bases, sir.”
He swung through the city, letting the wind clear his thoughts before he arrived at the Baxter Building. As he stepped into the lab, something immediately felt off.
Susan’s workstation was occupied—but not by her.
Johnny Storm was lounging against her desk, tossing a small metal component in the air and catching it with lazy ease. His expression was one of pure boredom.
Peter narrowed his eyes. “Uh… where’s Dr. Storm?”
Johnny looked up, flashing a grin. “Hey, you’re back. Thought you were on leave.”
Peter shrugged. “Only for a day.” He motioned toward Susan’s workstation. “And you’re here because…?”
Johnny sighed dramatically. “Waiting for my dear sister to arrive.” He tossed the component again. “She’s late.”
Peter raised an eyebrow. “And messing with her stuff is a productive use of time?”
Johnny smirked. “Hey, gotta keep myself entertained.”
Before Peter could reply, the lab doors slid open, and Susan Storm walked in.
Even in a simple white lab coat over a form-fitting blouse and pencil skirt, she still looked insanely gorgeous. Her golden hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands falling around her face. Her eyes landed on Peter, widening slightly in surprise.
“Peter? You’re back already?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh… the leave was just for a day. It wasn’t really a major emergency.”
Susan tilted her head, studying him for a second, before nodding. “Well, good to have you back.”
Before she could ask anything else, Peter turned on his heel and pretended to be absorbed in his work.
From the corner of his eye, he saw Susan narrowing her gaze at Johnny.
“Johnny,” she said, her tone carrying the weight of an older sibling’s authority, “what are you doing at my workstation?”
Johnny grinned. “Waiting for you.”
Susan placed her hands on her hips. “And?”
“And,” Johnny continued, unfazed, “I may or may not have reorganized some of your equipment.”
Susan’s eyes narrowed. “What. Did. You. Do.”
Johnny laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Relax, sis. Just moved a few things around. Maybe swapped some labels—”
“Johnny!”
Susan immediately went into full damage-control mode, checking her workstation. Peter watched with mild amusement as Johnny dodged her attempts to swat him, finally making a hasty exit, grumbling under his breath.
As soon as the doors shut behind Johnny, Susan sighed, running a hand through her hair. “Sometimes I wonder if I was cursed with him.”
Peter smirked. “Well, at least he keeps things interesting.”
Susan rolled her eyes but smiled. “That’s one way to put it.”
She turned back to her workstation, and as they both settled into work, she casually asked, “So… how do you know Felicia?”
Peter froze mid-typing.
His brain short-circuited for a second before he managed to stammer, “Uh—w-we go to the same college.”
Susan raised an eyebrow. “Really? She didn’t seem like the academic type.”
“She’s… full of surprises,” Peter said quickly. “She, uh, didn’t have a date, so she asked me to go with her. That’s all.”
Susan hummed, but didn’t press further. Instead, she leaned against her desk, arms crossed.
“And what about Victor?”
Susan frowned. “Doom?”
He nodded. She sighed audibly “He wasn’t actually interested in Baxter Corporation or our research. He was more interested in… me.”
Peter’s jaw clenched. “Oh?”
Susan exhaled. “When I made it clear I wasn’t interested, he fumed, said he wouldn’t be investing in Baxter, and stormed off.”
Peter snorted. “What a jackass.”
Susan laughed. “Agreed.”
She leaned against the counter, twirling a pen between her fingers. “You know… sometimes it feels like people only see me as a pretty face or a ‘hot woman’ or just a trophy .They don’t see my work, my research, or my achievements.”
Peter’s expression softened. “ That’s not true Susan”. He knew that feeling all too well—being recognized for something superficial rather than what actually mattered.
He said firmly. “A lot of people admire your work. I admire your work.”
Susan’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh? So you don’t think I’m beautiful?”
Peter, without thinking, blurted out, “No, you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
The second the words left his mouth, his brain screeched to a halt.
Susan’s eyebrows shot up in amusement.
Peter immediately stammered for a cover-up, his face heating. “I—I mean, in a totally professional way, of course! Like—uh—you know, objectively speaking, anyone would say—uh—”
Susan laughed—a light, genuine giggle that made Peter want to sink into the floor.
“Oh, Parker,” she teased, shaking her head. “That was adorable.”
Peter groaned. “I’m never speaking again. But ahmm — you’ve got brains and wit too, you’re amazing sue really”
Susan blushed “Thanks Mr smooth talker’ you’re quite charming when you’re not brooding “ she smirked.
“Aww come on” Peter groaned “No more teasing, I was just stating truth trying to comfort you”
Susan grinned but mercifully changed the subject, and they both got back to work.
Later – Peter’s Dorm
As Peter swung back to his dorm, ERIC’s voice chimed.
“Sir, you should work on stuttering less. Dr. Storm seemed to enjoy your compliment.”
Peter hissed. “Shut up, ERIC.”
“But sir—”
“Shut up.”
“Noted, sir.”
As he landed on his balcony, he exhaled heavily.
Susan Storm was going to be the death of him.