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You’ve been working at Stark Industries for over 3 years now. Originally you were Pepper Pott's personal assistant, needing a full time job after graduating from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Being an assistant wasn’t exactly putting your BioMedical Engineering degree to use but you knew this was a great way to get your foot in the door.
Since then you’ve slowly moved your way up; coffee runs far behind you now that you were working in the second highest level Stark Lab, the ‘B’ lab. The highest being the (A.) Avengers Lab. As the year came to an end you were sure you were getting a promotion. Finally you would be working directly under Tony Stark.
Then he came along. Peter Parker. A senior at Empire State University. He showed up, all bright eyes and fluffy hair, for the Stark internship. Something Pepper had started that previous summer. He was working in the E lab, 3 below you and at first everything was fine. He was very smart, you knew that, you often got assigned to check on his lab and write a report on the progress and since Peter had shown up their progress had doubled.
You were almost impressed. He was the youngest at any of the Stark Labs, taking that title from you, which you didn’t particularly care about anyway. And so yeah, it was fine. Until-
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You waited outside of Tony’s Office, your hands wringing in your lap. You were finally gonna ask for a promotion. You had an extensive and incredibly impressive portfolio, had worked your way up almost the entire company, and finally found the confidence to schedule this meeting.
The large frosted glass doors opened, Peter standing in the door frame, Tony a few feet behind him. “Thank you Mr. Stark. I won’t let you down!” He beamed, excitement flooding his words.
“You’re welcome kid. Now enjoy the break,” Tony said, “and for the love of god, actually take a break Pete.” A stern look sat behind his tinted glasses.
“Hello Ms. L/N, come on in.” Tony said, a hand ushering you through the door. Peter leaving as you stood up. You pressed your palms against your slacks, trying to quell the slight shaking in your hands.
The doors closed behind you as you surveyed the room, your breath hitching at the New York City skyline outside the large windows. Tony crossed his way behind the large desk. “To what do I owe the pleasure, L/N?” He asked, removing his glasses and hanging them from the collar of his black t-shirt beneath his sport coat.
“Uh, well..” Your voice shook. Deep Breath, you deserve this, you won’t know until you ask, echoing through your head. “I’ve been here for over 3 years now and I think I’ve been an important addition to the company-”
“I would agree.” Tony interrupted, his voice lilted, urging you to make your point.
“And I’ve compiled a comprehensive portfolio of all the work I’ve done and all the projects I’ve assisted or directed,” You placed the folder on the desk, sliding it slightly toward Tony. “I think, no, I know I would be an excellent addition to the A lab.” You said, taking a deep breath to calm you.
Tony sighed, “Look, L/N, you are a very talented scientist and I do agree that you are an integral part of our work,” Your stomach dropped. The rejecting tone in Tony’s voice making your hands sweat. “But, I just promoted Peter to the A Lab, and I really think you’re right where you need to be.”
Your throat tightened, restricting your oxygen intake. Peter? Like the Peter that hasn’t even graduated college? The Peter that wears mismatched socks every day? The Peter who just left this office with a beaming, and in hindsight, cruel, smile?
You could tell Tony was still talking, something about how important your current work is, but you couldn’t really hear it. It felt as though you were being held underwater. Your ears rang slightly, throat constricting even more.
“I’ll tell you what,” Tony said, breaking your spiraling mind. “I want you to be part of Stark Industries for a very long time, Y/N. You’re brilliant.. So I’m gonna double your bonus and give you a raise.”
Your eyes widened. Your bonus was already quite large. “Thank you Mr. Stark.” You said, grateful for his compromise.
The meeting wrapped up shortly thereafter. Tony telling you an extra deposit would be coming within the next 5 business days and wishing you a good break.
You left the building, the bitter cold New York winter air, nipping your ankles where your coat didn’t reach. As you were walking home you thought back to Peter. The excitement of your raise and bonus fell to the wayside, jealousy and resentment replacing it.
You couldn’t believe he was promoted to the A Lab. He was in the E Lab for fucks sake! Yes he was smart, maybe even a genius but so were you! But even more importantly, you had worked your ass off to move up so much and get to where you are now. Peter is an intern, you were a scientist. A scientist employed by Stark Industries. Was it because you were a woman? Oh god, I’ve hit the glass ceiling. Your thoughts spiraled.
Your eyes welled with tears. Maybe it was from the frustration, maybe it was from the wind. Either way you were pissed off.
It was an excruciating 20 minute walk to your apartment, every time your anger boiled your blood, the falling snow and wind froze it entirely.
“Sometimes I fucking hate New York,” You muttered, beginning to walk up the stone stairs to the townhouse apartment you rented. Ice blanketed the steps, your foot slipping slightly, only adding to your sour mood.
When you finally made it into your apartment you were beat. Peeling off your layers you stepped through the kitchen. Opening your fridge you see the bottle of wine your mother had sent you when you told her about your meeting. ‘Congrats baby, I know you’ll get it’, the card draped around the neck of the bottle said.
You grabbed the bottle, ripping the tag off and reading it again before crumpling it and tossing it toward the trash bin across the room. The paper hit the wall before falling pitifully on the ground, mere inches from the bin.
“God-fucking-Damn it.” You muttered, removing the cork with a deep satisfying *pop*. You forewent a wine glass, opting to drink straight from the bottle.
On a normal night you would have one or two glasses, maybe more if you were with friends. But tonight, in the wake of disappointment and no work until the new year, you housed the entire bottle of white wine by yourself.
“Holy shit.” You breathed, the last sip in the bottle going down. “I need some air.”
You journeyed upstairs and shimmied open the small door to the roof before extending the drop down stairs. You had done this many times, the rooftop being a place you frequented since you didn’t share with anyone else.
It was even colder now. Not that you could tell, the wine coursing through your veins had sufficiently warmed you.
Snow covered everything but the streets and sidewalks. Even though New York was loud and busy, the snow muffled the sounds, leaving you to your thoughts that would usually get drowned out by honking.
You were so angry, so frustrated. Yes a raise and extra bonus was nice but you made good money already. You weren’t sure how to cope. You had already cried and cried. You weren’t even sad, you were angry. So, with the help of the wine to lower your inhibitions, you screamed. The wine told you the snow would muffle the noise and it would help release the pent up tension.
“God! Fucking! Damn it!” You yelled, kicking snow to punctuate each word.
When you had yelled enough that your throat was scratchy you let yourself collapse into the snow. Your eyes closed as snowflakes fell atop your face, dotting you with frozen white freckles before they melted on your warm cheeks. A *thwip* sound, followed by crunching feet in the snow, broke the few seconds of peace.
“Hey hey hey! Are you okay?” A worried voice quickly asked.
You opened your eyes, shocked that someone was also on top of your roof. Someone must have broken in you thought. Your mind spinning before you could register the blue and red clad figure before you.
“Spiderman?” You asked, slightly slurring the words. “Why are you on my roof?”
“I heard screaming. I thought someone was being mugged or something,” He said, his white eyes mechanically squinting, looking you over for injuries. “So are you okay?”
You laughed. A full body laugh. No you weren’t okay. You were drunk off a bottle of wine, rejected from your promotion, and were probably getting frostbite.
“You’re laughing…” The superhero noted, incredulously.
“Yeah well.. Shit..” You began, trying to lift yourself off the snow, the back of your sweater and pants wet and beginning to freeze. “I’m fine.” You slurred, slipping on an icy patch. You closed your eyes, bracing for an impact that never came. Opening them, you come face to face with the masked figure, his hands on your waist, steadying you.
“Are you drunk?” He asked, placing you upright.
“Are- *hiccup*-are you drunk?” You mirrored.
“Okay,” He muttered, rolling his eyes at your antics. “How did you get up here? You could have fallen off.” He said.
“I happen to live here spi-.. Spider.. thing.” You said, forgetting his name as a sour feeling filled your stomach, making its way up your throat.
“It’s Spiderman, for your information.” He began, shaking his head at yet another false name. Before he could continue he noticed the shaking of your shoulders, even as you crossed your arms, curling into yourself.
“Okay, you’re shaking. You’re not even wearing a jacket,” He noticed.
“I’m fine Spiderman,” You emphasized his name, “I’m a big girl. I can handle… I can..” Your sentence stopped, silence before you spewed vomit into the snow beside you. What seemed like the entire bottle coming up at once.
Spiderman's eyes widened, taking in the pitiful sight before him. “Let’s get you inside. Warm you up, get you some water.” He said, placing this gloved hand on the small of your back, guiding you back inside.
You silently obeyed. You didn’t have the energy to do otherwise. Soon you were back inside your apartment, sitting on your couch, in a crewneck and sweatpants, nursing a glass of water.
“So..” Spiderman began, breaking the silence. “Is this your typical Friday night?”
“God no. Normally I’m at the lab late but fuck. Today kinda sucked.” You laughed dryly.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Spiderman asked, his tone gentle.
“Don’t you have like…superhero things to do? I don’t know.” You asked, an eyebrow raising in question. “Or a cat to get out of a tree?”
He laughed at that, “No no. This is part of the job too. Plus I'm just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman.” He insisted. Though you’d seen the footage of him taking down crazy villains before.
You thought to yourself, what's the harm right? It would be nice to vent to someone. A morally obligated stranger at that.
“I asked for a promotion and I didn’t get it.” You said, sadness creeping back into your head. “And to make it worse some skinny little college boy got it over me. An intern got it over me.” You rolled your eyes.
Spiderman finally realized why you seemed so familiar. You worked at Stark Industry with him. You were in the B lab, and sometimes came down to write reports on his lab. His mind whirled. You were already working in basically the highest lab. What kind of promotion could you have asked for? The only thing higher up was the A Lab.. oh.
The A Lab. The Lab he had just gotten officially promoted to. He was trying to help you as Spiderman but the reason for your issues in the first place was Peter.
He hadn’t realized you were still talking. Words coming out quicker than the wine on the rooftop. “I think I actually hate him.” You said, venom dripping from your voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I fucking hate Peter.” You decided.
Hearing you say his name with such disgust hit him like a ton of bricks. He was used to people hating Spiderman, especially news outlets but pretty much everyone loved Peter.
“You- uh- you don’t even know him! How can you hate him?” He asked, trying to save your opinion of him.
“If it was someone from my lab who got the promotion I could understand. But Peter? He hasn’t even finished school!” You began, “It would be like if I started swinging from buildings and saving cats out of nowhere and suddenly the whole world loves me and not you.” You explained.
Peter understood what you meant.