Friendly Neighbourhood... Complications
It had been one of those rare quiet mornings in the Avengers Tower—well, as quiet as it could get with Tony Stark’s endless tech experiments, Natasha’s stealthy but sarcastic observations, and Morgan’s boundless energy.
Peter swung through the city that afternoon, enjoying the familiar rush of wind against his face. He had no particular destination in mind; it was just a chance to clear his head. As much as he loved living in Avengers Tower, being Spider-Man, and, of course, having a family that consisted of some of the world’s most famous superheroes, things could get overwhelming. Especially now that Felicia Hardy had decided to make things more... complicated.
Peter landed smoothly on top of a building near the Queensboro Bridge, pulling out his phone. He checked the time—two hours until his "date" with Felicia. Technically, it wasn't a date. She never used that word. But every time they hung out, the air between them was electric, and Peter couldn't deny how much he liked it, even if Felicia had a knack for dragging him into trouble.
Speaking of trouble...
Felicia: "Don’t be late, Spider. And wear something nice. You owe me after that last mission."
Peter sighed. The last mission she was referring to involved a very close call with a stolen diamond, a high-speed chase across Manhattan, and him bailing her out of a fight with some of Kingpin’s goons. She wasn’t exactly one to say thanks, but she had a habit of showing up when he least expected it. And, well, Peter wasn’t complaining.
"Great," Peter muttered to himself, glancing down at his suit. "Because nothing says 'nice' like Spandex."
Before he could respond to Felicia’s text, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was Aunt May.
Aunt May: "Hey, sweetie! Are you coming for dinner tonight? I’m making lasagna!"
Peter groaned, torn between guilt and excitement. Felicia, dinner with Aunt May, and probably an interrogation from Tony and Pepper later? He wasn’t sure how much more his teenage brain could handle. But, as always, he typed back with the charm only a Parker could manage.
Peter: "Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Aunt May. Save me a plate? Got some ‘Avengers stuff’ to do first."
Stuffing his phone back into his pocket, Peter launched himself off the building, swinging through the city again. The balance between being a high schooler, an Avenger, and... whatever he was with Felicia, was getting trickier by the day.
Back at Avengers Tower, things weren’t any less complicated. Peter stepped through the door, peeling off his mask and running a hand through his messy hair. The moment he did, Morgan darted out of the living room and latched onto his leg, grinning up at him.
“Did you catch the bad guys today?” she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Not today, Munchkin,” Peter said, swinging her up into his arms. “It was a quiet day. You know, boring stuff.”
Morgan giggled. “You? Boring? No way.”
“Trust me,” Natasha called from the couch, flipping through a magazine, “he can be boring when he wants to be.”
“Thanks, Nat,” Peter said with a mock sigh. “Always good to feel appreciated.”
He set Morgan down just in time for Tony to wander into the living room, already tapping away at his tablet. “Hey, Underoos, you’re gonna want to suit up in about an hour. We’ve got a briefing on some intel SHIELD sent over.”
Peter blinked. "Wait, a briefing? Tonight?
Tony glanced at him. "Yeah, tonight. Is that a problem?"
"Uh... sort of," Peter admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I might have plans."
Tony raised an eyebrow. "Plans? Like superhero plans or... teenage plans?"
Peter hesitated, suddenly aware of Natasha and Pepper both watching him closely. “Just, you know, hanging out with... friends.”
Pepper’s expression softened. “Felicia?”
Peter felt his face heat up. “Uh... maybe.”
Tony made a face. “The cat burglar?”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharpening. “Felicia Hardy. I’ve heard of her.”
“Who hasn’t?” Tony muttered, setting his tablet down. “Kid, listen, I’m not saying you can’t have a social life. I mean, I’m technically your cool dad, right?”
Peter winced. “Not really the way I’d describe it, but okay…”
Tony pressed on, ignoring him. “But Felicia Hardy is—”
Trouble,” Natasha finished. “She’s unpredictable, Peter. And you’ve already got enough on your plate without adding her into the mix.”
Pepper walked over and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “We just want you to be careful, sweetie. We trust you, but…”
“But Felicia isn’t exactly ‘average girlfriend’ material?” Peter finished for her, exasperated.
“Yeah, something like that,” Tony said, giving Peter a knowing look.
Peter groaned, feeling the weight of their collective concern. It wasn’t like he didn’t know what Felicia was capable of. She had her own way of doing things—fast, reckless, and, sometimes, selfish—but Peter also knew that there was more to her than that.
"I get it, I do," Peter said, trying to deflect their protective stares. "But it's not like I'm diving headfirst into anything. We're just… hanging out."
Morgan, still sitting on the couch with wide eyes, suddenly piped up. “Are you gonna marry her, Petey?”
Peter practically choked. "What? No! Morgan, I’m in high school!"
Tony grinned. “Well, that escalated quickly.”
Before Peter could respond, his phone buzzed again.
Felicia: "You better not be standing me up, Spider. You know I don’t like being kept waiting."
Peter sighed, rubbing his face. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Where?” Natasha asked, crossing her arms. She looked every bit the protective aunt figure she had become.
“Nowhere dangerous,” Peter said, raising his hands defensively. “I promise. Just… teenage stuff. You know.”
Pepper gave him a soft smile. “Be safe, okay? And don’t forget to come back for dinner. Aunt May’s lasagna.”
Peter grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
As Peter hurried out of the living room and toward the elevator, he couldn’t help but wonder what the night had in store. Felicia always had a way of making things unpredictable, and somehow, he knew tonight wouldn’t be any different.
But, hey—he was Spider-Man. If anyone could handle complications, it was him. Right?