It was just a normal afternoon at the Avengers Compound—well, as normal as it ever got with a demigod in the gym, a sorcerer floating through rooms, and a Wakandan princess arguing with Tony over vibranium patents.

Peter Parker sat on the couch in the common area, legs curled beneath him, lazily flipping through a thick physics textbook while munching on popcorn. He was still in his suit, mask pulled halfway up his face. Across the room, Scott Lang and Sam Wilson were deep into a heated game of Mario Kart, trash talk flying as fast as the red shells.

Peter’s attention drifted when the doors slid open and in walked Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers—followed by someone he hadn’t expected to see outside of their high school halls.

You.

His best friend. His secret crush. The girl who could make a room feel lighter just by walking into it. And now, apparently, the newest member of the Avengers.

Peter froze, a half-chewed kernel sitting on his tongue as his brain short-circuited. He blinked. Once. Twice. You were wearing tactical gear—not just civilian clothes—and the way Nat and Steve were talking to you, it was clear this wasn’t a casual visit.

You turned, eyes locking with Peter’s.

“Oh,” you said, a sheepish grin tugging at the corners of your lips. “Surprise?”

Peter stood up so quickly he knocked over the popcorn. “You—Wait—you’re here? As in… here-here? With the Avengers?!”

“I’ve been in training for a while,” you admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. “Fury thought it was time to make it official. I passed the last field test last week.”

“Fury?” Peter sputtered. “You’re working with Fury?!”

Natasha smirked as she passed him, patting his shoulder. “Relax, Spider-Boy. She’s one of us now. Has potential. Even Tony admitted it.”

“Barely,” Tony called from behind a holo-screen, though there was a glint of pride in his eyes. “But sure, let’s keep feeding the overachiever trend around here.”

Peter was still staring at you, wide-eyed, as though he were trying to do quantum math in his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to,” you said gently. “But Fury swore me to secrecy until it was official. Plus…” Your eyes softened. “I didn’t want to make it weird between us.”

He blinked again. “Weird? This is awesome! I mean, I’m totally freaking out, but it’s the cool kind of freak-out. Like—like if you told me Beyoncé was your aunt or something.”

You laughed, relief flickering in your features. “So… you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Are you kidding? This is—this is insane! Wait, do you have powers? Wait, do you have a codename?! Wait—does this mean you’re gonna live here?!”

The flood of questions spilled out faster than he could filter them. Clint chuckled from the kitchen, sipping his coffee. “Kid’s gonna implode.”