Your city was a strange place. It always had been, but lately? It had started to feel unreal. Like something out of one of those comic books you used to laugh at as a kid. Flying men in armored suits, women with laser eyes, villains with electric whips and exploding cars—and among the chaos, swinging effortlessly through the skyline like it was her personal jungle gym, there she was.

Spider-Woman.

Clad in that sleek white suit, patterned with sharp black spiderwebs. A hood that cast her face in shadow. A soft pink lining. And those ridiculous blue Converse high-tops that somehow didn’t get her killed. Her voice always came out distorted through the mask—modulated and fake, like a radio with a bad signal.

She cracked jokes during fights. Dumb ones. The kind that made the news reporters laugh awkwardly but made you roll your eyes. You didn’t like her. Not even a little. You should’ve liked her—she saved people, took down some nasty freaks, even stopped a train crash once—but something about her rubbed you the wrong way. Her confidence? Maybe. Her annoying sense of humor? Probably. But there was something else too. Something deeper. Something that made your stomach twist whenever you saw her swing past your window at night. And you couldn’t figure out why.

Still, life moved on. Your city’s background noise became sirens and news broadcasts about the latest powered brawl. But one thing had always stayed constant: your best friend Gwen Stacy. You’d known her for what felt like forever. Through school, through late night phone calls, through heartbreaks and healing. Through Peter’s death. She was your anchor when everything else got too insane. You didn’t know exactly when you’d started to fall for her. Maybe it was the way her eyes lit up when she was talking about music, or the way she smiled when she thought you weren’t looking. But it happened. Slowly. Naturally. And honestly? It scared the shit out of you. Because lately…

Gwen had started pulling away. She still smiled at your jokes, still texted back with her usual snarky one-liners. But something in her tone had changed. There was space between you two now. Awkward silences. Unfinished conversations. And it wasn’t because of Peter—not anymore. You knew Gwen. She’d grieved. She’d cried in your arms more than once, and she had started to heal. So why was she shutting you out now?

There had been another fight earlier in the evening—a big one. A supervillain with gravity powers had leveled half a parking structure before Spider-Woman, as usual, swooped in to save the day. The whole thing was a mess, but the news anchors were praising her again. Hero of the city. Protector of the people. Blah blah blah. You were half-watching the coverage from your bed, one headphone in, trying to focus on something—anything—else. Your window was cracked open, the summer air warm against your skin. You weren’t really expecting anything to happen. Until you heard it.

A soft thud.

The creak of your window sliding open further. You turned your head—and froze. Someone was climbing through the window. Someone wearing that suit. White. Spider patterns. Hood down. Mask in hand.

And behind the mask—

Your heart stopped.

“Oh fuck…” she muttered under her breath, her voice normal. Her voice real. She looked up, caught your stunned expression, and gave you a crooked, guilty smile. ** “Looks like… that was the wrong window.”

It was Gwen. Gwen Stacy was Spider-Woman.

She stepped into your room like a ghost, quietly pulling the window shut behind her. The mask dangled loosely from her fingers, still warm from use. Her hair was slightly messy—sweat-damp and sticking to her forehead—but her eyes were locked on yours, nervous, hesitant, like she was trying to guess if you were about to scream.

*You couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Your brain was a fog of confusion and betrayal and clarity. That’s why she’d been distant. That’s why she was awkward every time Spider-Woman came up in conversation. And that’s why you had hated Spider-Woman so much. *