Chapter Text
Peter Benjamin Parker was just like any other broke college student. He wore baggy, oversized clothes, his brown hair fell in unruly curls as if he didn’t have time to brush it, he always seemed late for one thing or another, and he was a freelance photographer paid the bare minimum.
At least, that’s what he wanted people to think. No one ever questioned how the oversized clothes looked much cleaner than what was found at the donation bins everyone assumed he got them from, nor why they were monogrammed with ‘HO.’ His hair and nails were always clean and well-trimmed. No one really knew his schedule, so they had no clue that he had ample time between classes, and the only thing they knew about his job were the photographs published in trashy tabloid magazines like The Daily Bugle.
To the public, Peter Parker was a kind, friendly, scatter-brained, overworked college student. To the public, Spider-Man was the friendly, chatter-box hero who helped old ladies cross the street and played with the children in the park.
But no one ever looked closer. No one saw the sharp glint in Peter’s eyes nor the tense atmosphere Spider-Man could cause in less than a second.
There was no evidence to connect Peter Parker to Spider-Man or Spider-Man to the circulating gossip of New York.
And yet…
~~~
Times Square was just like it always was. Loud, crowded, and full of tourists. It was like any other day, though it was perhaps a better day, as there hadn’t been an alien invasion or a large-scale villain attack in a month. Perhaps that dry spell was the reason for the news to drop on this specific day.
It was on one of the billboards, and no one had noticed it until one woman looked up and saw the picture. She immediately turned to her friend to get her to look up, which caught the attention of a couple nearby, which caught more attention. Then more, until suddenly, most of Times Square was looking, pointing, and talking about the picture displayed on the billboard.
It was a well-shot photo of Captain America punching an unknown man in the face. The angle seemed to be from a high vantage point facing their left sides, able to catch the anger on Captain America’s face, unhidden by his usual cowl, as well as the blood flying out of the victim’s nose. The unknown man was wearing a bright yellow vest, recognized as the NYC trash collector's vest. The headline next to the picture, in bold lettering, read, Captain America Attacks Innocent Garbage Collector!
The gossip ran amuck; statements like, “He went crazy and attacked him out of nowhere!” and “I heard he was secretly a psycho” spread like wildfire.
And in the corner of the photo was the credit to Peter Parker. His name was somewhat known to the public, as he always had the best photos, and they were always paired with the most exciting and gossip-filled articles that were talked about for weeks.
Said man sat in a cafe in Queens, scrolling through his public social media account as the flood of tags made his phone buzz like crazy.
“Did you have to give them that photo?” The man before him sighed, sounding dejected and disappointed all at once. “They’re going to hound me for at least a week.”
“Sorry, Steve,” Peter snickered, though he hid it behind his cup of coffee, “but you shouldn’t have said you prefer Ironman to Spider-Man.”
Steve Rogers just sighed again, though this time sounding more amused, before a teenage girl waiting for her drink looked up from her phone and saw the buff man, instantly recognizing him as her eyes widened. Her heart started beating faster–though only Peter could hear that–and she raised her phone to take a picture.
“That’s my que,” Steve picked up his black cap and used it to hide his eyes as he started making his way out. “Catch you later, Peter.”
“See ya, Cap.”
Just as Steve was about to leave, he paused and looked back at the college student.
“Oh, and Pete? Next time, get Tony.”
Understanding the implication, Peter sent an impish smirk, highlighting the gleam in his eyes. “Of course.”
Steve left with a wave just as Peter picked up his phone, blocking his face from the girl still trying to take a picture, and smiled at the fond greeting from the other end.
“Hey, Harry. How do you feel about stimulating some healthy competition?”
~~~
The night was as quiet as New York could be, meaning it wasn’t quiet at all but still more so than during the day. Peter, now Spider-Man, sat on the edge of a random apartment building, smiling behind his mask as he flipped through the magazine pages.
“I see you’re at it again.”
Peter just hummed, flipping back to the front cover and waving it before Daredevil.
“Do you even know what it says, DD? Or are you just assuming it was me.”
The older man sighed as he sat beside his reluctant friend. “No, I don’t know what it says, but I know for a fact it was you because you’re making those purring noises again.”
“Shit, really?” Peter rubbed his chest symbol in embarrassment. “I hadn’t even noticed.”
“Yeah, well, I did. Just tell me what you sent this time.”
Neither jumped as the third group member suddenly spoke up, even though he wasn’t on the roof a split second ago.
“Oh, it’s great, Red! Spidey-poo–” “ Don’t call me that, ” “–here somehow leaked documents from Stark Industries AND Oscorp revealing that they’re making similar products! It’s fucking hilarious! I wonder how dear old daddy Stark–” “ Ew, DP, ” “--reacted to that one! Hah!”
Matt was quiet for a moment, not his usual quiet but a more thoughtful quiet, before hesitantly saying, “How do you manage to get this information?”
Peter lifted his mask just enough to reveal his razor-sharp grin, making the two older men shudder despite the fact that Matt couldn’t even see it and Wade was a mass murderer.
“They can’t stop what they can’t catch.”
“God,” Wade said after a moment, the usual craze absent for once and only leaving behind apprehension, “you scare me sometimes, you know that? You little freak.”
Peter just pulled his mask down and crawled down the side of the building–silently, of course–and swung off to where he–and Matt, but he was still processing–heard a robbery.
The two remaining members of Team Red were left in the dust as they knew Spider-Man could handle the minor crime. Despite what people may think, he was the most dangerous out of their group.
“He’s such a little shit,” Wade complained, pulling out his trusty sword Bea and swinging her around in frustration.
“You’re telling me,” Matt muttered.
~~~
Peter grumbled into his pillow as he tried to ignore the frantic banging on his front door. Even in his half-asleep state, Peter knew who it was from the sound of the expensive leather shoes, the smell of the expensive cologne mixed with hair gel, and the loud voice trying to wake him up. Harry was desperately trying to get Peter’s attention, and it was working.
“Alright, alright,” Peter muttered, rubbing his eyes with a yawn as he made the fast journey from his small bedroom to the front door. He lived in a cheap one-bedroom apartment and didn’t need his neighbors to complain about him again.
“What is it, Har?” Peter asked as he opened the door, only to be shoved out of the wave as Harry steamrolled into his apartment. It wasn’t unusual for Harry to show up, even though he preferred when they met at his lavish apartment, but he knew Peter wasn’t a fan of the hollowness of it. Still, it was unusual for him not to just stroll in using his key. So it must be important if the man was actually knocking for once.
“Have you seen the news?”
A heavy feeling filled Peter’s stomach as his Spidey Sense buzzed low in the back of his head. Not enough for there to be any danger, but there due to his anxiety. “No,” he finally answered after analyzing Harry’s agitated state, “I haven’t.”
“Look,” Harry pushed his phone into Peter’s face, and Peter grabbed it as gently as possible so he didn’t crush the metal. It wouldn’t be hard at all. If anything, it was harder not to crush it.
Looking at the article, Peter sighed as his anxiety unfurled from his neck. The buzzing disappeared as he sent the panicking man a soft, fondly annoyed look.
“Harry, calm down you idiot. This isn’t a big deal.”
The main picture was of him–Spider-Man–pushing away Deadpool, whose right arm was cut off and being held by his left. The man was waving it around in a ridiculous manner, highlighted by Daredevil, who held his head in his hands. It was a typical event for them, as Wade loved using whatever limb was cut off for entertainment purposes, but apparently not usual for the general public as the grainy photo was accompanied by the headline: Spider-Man: Friendly or Violent?
Skimming the whole work, the gist was that Spider-Man shouldn’t be called a good hero as he knowingly worked with two vigilantes known for their extreme violence. Which Peter felt was a bit ridiculous as he was also a vigilante. People just saw him as a hero since he worked with different hero teams. But the truth was that he wasn’t a hero; he was also just another vigilante.
“This will ruin your reputation, Peter,” Harry urged, “This isn’t like the Daily Bugle where everyone knows they’re bullshit. This is the New York Times! People listen to them!”
Peter saw Harry pace the small apartment from the corner of his vision as thoughts and ideas flickered behind his eyes. It wasn’t as big a deal as Harry was making it out to be, but it could potentially negatively affect Spider-Man. Looking at the comments under the piece, Peter saw one that gave him an interesting idea.
“Hey, Harry?”
His boyfriend stopped pacing to run a hand through his hair, ruining the neat locks. “What.”
“How do you feel about starting another business?”
Peter knew his boyfriend was clever, so his message didn’t take too long to get across. Harry threw himself onto the couch, leaning on Peter to look him in the eye.
“How would this work? Would we need to hire-”
That’s one of the reasons Peter loved Harry. He was always on board with Peter’s craziest ideas, such as him fighting crime. He wouldn't be surprised if Harry ended up making his own suit one day just to stop him from doing stupid things.
“And don’t worry about this article,” Peter interrupted Harry’s rambling, “they won’t be a problem in the future.”
~~~
Wade whistled, long and loud, at the magazine's front page.
“Wow,” he chuckled, which turned into a full-blown cackle that had him hugging his stomach with how hard it was.
“It’s not that funny, Wade,” Peter rolled his eyes, though it was hidden behind his mask. The bottom half was pulled up to his nose so he could take another bite of the pizza Wade brought. Matt sat beside him, enjoying his slice as Wade rolled on the floor, roaring with laughter.
“It is!” Wade howled, “You blackmailed The New York Times! You, the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man! Oh, oh, I’m gonna piss myself!”
Peter wrinkled his nose as Matt made a noise of disgust. “Don’t do that,” Matt said, “I don’t need to smell your piss-soaked underwear all night.”
“Who said I was wearing underwear?”
“Ugh!” Peter and Matt groaned simultaneously. Seriously, why was Peter friends with these people? Oh, that’s right, because he’s dressed up in spandex and calling himself Spider-Man. Real smart move.
“Hey, I can tell you just did a sarcasm in your head,” Wade complained, “come on, I wanna know what you blackmailed them with.”
“Ok, it wasn’t blackmail, exactly,” Peter complained, “I just let them know that I had some information on them that I’m sure they didn’t want getting out.”
“That’s blackmail.” Matt bluntly stated.
“Ok, fine, so I may have blackmailed the CEO a bit. But it’s not like I did it for anything bad! I just told them not to write anything bad about Spider-Man anymore. That’s why they released this article.” Said article was titled The People’s Hero and went on to layer praise upon praise on him. It was almost unsettling.
“What do you have on them? No, actually, how do you have anything on them?”
Peter just hummed and said around a mouthful of pizza, “Oh, I just let the CEO know that I knew about the ‘sizable donation,’” he made quotations with his fingers, “Hammer Tech and other notable companies paid them under the table. It wasn’t that hard to find, but they don’t want the public to know about any of it. I’m sure you’ve noticed how the New York Times never publishes anything too negative about Hammer Tech.”
The two older vigilantes didn’t know about that, actually, but they weren’t going to say anything. It was common knowledge between them and the rest of the super’s community that Spidey’s intellect and information-gathering skills were second to none.
“Anyway, they won’t be a problem anymore.” Peter swallowed his bite of pizza and said, “hey, this is pretty good. Where’d you get it?”
Wade muttered about some pizza place in Manhattan and wasn’t surprised when Peter started talking about the owner and how his daughter was caught selling weed in the school bathroom.
No one questioned where he got his information from anymore.
~~~
In the following weeks, a new company ad appeared in multiple newspapers. Reasonably called ‘Parker Press,’ few people paid attention to it other than those interested in journalism.
It was mainly forgotten about, at least until their first article dropped. It displayed a picture–taken by Peter Parker–of Hawkeye missing a jump from a roof–no one questioned how Peter got the image or why he was out at night–and landing on top of a closed garbage can.
While the picture was funny, the article itself was more somber in tone as it covered how often heroes–and vigilantes– get hurt and calculated the average cost of care and expenses of the injuries. As well as how while heroes get proper medical care, vigilantes–including Spider-Man, which shocked people–couldn’t get their injuries properly treated most of the time.
It was a hit, and soon, the company became known as the source for any hero gossip, most of it bizarre pieces that no one knew how they could get that information, but also had some genuine articles full of previously not known information. And the front covers were always never before seen and usually incredible shots. Always credited to Peter Parker.
“Did you seriously have to release that new article on me, Pete,” Tony complained over the phone, “I don’t even know how you know that.”
“I know everything,” Peter replied, amused beyond belief.
“You’re a sly little fox,” Stark groaned before hanging up. That caused Peter to laugh so hard that his neighbor to the left banged on the wall with their brooms.
It was a little ironic how Peter’s the one with super hearing and can hear the entire building’s conversations, yet they’re the ones who complain, not him.
“Hmm, speaking of super hearing,” Peter mumbled. He took out his phone and sent a message to Harry.
Harry ♥️
Got a new story
?
Daredevil’s nemesis: Color matching
😂
~~~
“Mr. Parker, Mr. Parker over here!”
Peter stopped walking and let the woman– Josie Tomlin, journalist for The NYT, ironic – and her cameraman– Gordon Price, cheating on his wife – catch up to him. They were in Queens as Peter was heading to lunch, but he had time. He might as well see where this goes.
“Yes, can I help you?” Peter smiled politely, and he could tell the woman was charmed. The man, not so much.
“Hello, I’m Josie Tomlin from The New York Times, and I was hoping to have a moment of your time.”
They were drawing some stares, and Peter could feel his Spidey Sense tingle in the back of his neck.
“Sure,” he shrugged.
“Great!” It took a minute for Gordon to get the camera ready, but then Josie had her microphone out and ready.
“My first question is, how were you, a broke college student, able to start a successful news company?”
“Well, I had a little help from my friend, Harry Osborn.”
Josie perked up, and her eyes sparkled like a shark with blood in the water. They had a small back-and-forth on how they got started, what it was like running a company, and how Harry did most of the management work.
“How are you able to take such amazing shots? And where do you get your information from?”
Peter grinned, something sharp and unfamiliar to most people. His molars looked sharper than the average person’s, and the light highlighted his cheekbones, making him look almost predatory. He answered her question with a wink to the camera.
“Well, that’s a trade secret.”
And if anyone saw the tiny, almost invisible spider climbing out of his hair, then down his back and onto the walls of NYC, where it stalked the streets for information, no one mentioned it.