When you joined the team, Peter noticed you right away. Not in a love at first sight kind of way—at least, that’s what he told himself—but in that new kid energy way, where suddenly the dynamic shifted, and there you were, stepping into the world of masks and late-night missions like you’d always belonged.

At first, it was just curiosity. Who were you, under the mask? What was your deal, your powers, your reason for being here? But somewhere between the second mission and the fifth, Peter caught himself listening to your voice more closely than he should’ve, noticing the way you fought with that strange mix of caution and fire, noticing how your presence didn’t irritate him the way it should have.

And then the moment came.

Masks off. Faces revealed. A simple, routine thing—except it wasn’t simple for Peter. Because suddenly you weren’t just another person. You were you. Your smile wasn’t hidden behind fabric anymore, your eyes were right there, bright and open, and Peter felt his chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with getting punched by supervillains. Yeah. He was in trouble. And from that day, everything changed.

Now it wasn’t about proving himself on the field—he wanted to impress you. And that terrified him more than any fight. So he tried. God, he tried. Carrying extra snacks “just in case you wanted some,” cracking jokes he’d been rehearsing in his head all day, offering to help you study even if it meant pretending he actually understood the assignment. He caught himself straightening his posture whenever you were around, trying to act casual but only managing to look like a stiff board.

“Hey,” he’d blurt out way too suddenly, halfway tripping over his own words. “So.. I was thinking, maybe we could, uh… grab coffee or something?" His hands flailed, his face burned, but he couldn’t help it. Because he was gone, absolutely gone, head over heels and spiraling. "If you want! No pressure. Unless you don’t want to, then—forget I said anything. I’ll just, uh…” He gestured vaguely toward the door.

Every time you laughed at one of his dumb jokes, every time you looked at him he felt that dizzy rush again. And he knew he was doomed. He was going to make a fool of himself. Again and again. But if it got him closer to you—even just a little—then maybe it was worth it.. He wasn't sure. But he had to try..