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Peter really needed to stop making stupid decisions whenever he got bored.
But this time? This time didn’t exactly count as stupid.
Actually… it was pretty fun—just definitely not very well thought out.
Maybe he should have taken to heart all the things Happy, Aunt May, and Mr. Stark kept telling him—
that he had to put his own safety first, that he needed to be more careful.
Maybe he should have picked a better time to think about that.
Because, at that very moment, he was quite literally falling from a seven-story building!
And his web shooters were already off, while gravity was greeting him with open arms.
Great. Thanks a lot, gravity—but seriously, not the time!
So how did he end up plummeting off a building?
For that, we need to go back twenty-four hours.
---
24 HOURS EARLIER
Peter had woken up that morning feeling amazing.
The night before had been packed: he’d stopped a few crimes, saved some drunken college kids,
walked an elderly lady home, and even rescued a cat from a tree.
Classic Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man duties…
And best of all, after all that, he’d made it home on time,
let Aunt May check that he hadn’t been hurt, and then slept like a rock.
Now it was early morning, and for once he wasn’t late for school.
But the best part? Today was Friday!
The weekend was almost here, and Peter had been waiting for it all week.
He was ready to embrace his beloved weekend—
especially since he’d be spending Saturday afternoon in the lab with Mr. Dad—
no, wait… Mr. Stark!
Yes, tomorrow afternoon he’d head to the Tower.
He’d even be able to stay there on Sunday, because Aunt May had decided to have a “girls’ night” with her friends.
She’d been completely against the idea of leaving Peter home alone.
And she wasn’t wrong.
Peter’s track record with being home alone was… a little problematic.
(Peter would absolutely disagree with that assessment.
It was completely unfair.
Okay—maybe partly true…
But he’d only been left alone once and had accidentally performed a summoning ritual!
And the spirit that came through wasn’t even a bad one— just a ghost chef who loved to cook.
So, no big deal.)
After finishing his morning routine, he had breakfast with Aunt May, then said goodbye and headed to school.
New York was its usual noisy, crowded self, but Peter felt bright and full of energy.
At school, the day passed in a pretty ordinary way.
Classes were boring; the only thing that made the day better was hanging out with Ned and MJ.
The three of them were sitting at the same table during lunch.
Peter was excitedly telling Ned about his adventures from the night before.
MJ looked buried in her book, as if she wasn’t listening.
But Peter knew perfectly well she caught every word—she just didn’t show it.
Right then a notification popped up on his phone.
Peter checked it, typed something quickly, and then his face fell,
turning into that of a sad little puppy.
He groaned.
“Come on…”
Ned studied Peter’s expression with concern, eyebrows knitting.
“What happened, dude? Bad news? Is Aunt May okay?”
MJ, without lifting her head from the book, raised one eyebrow.
“Why do you look like somebody just ran over your dog?”
Peter looked at the two of them with the air of a kicked puppy and sighed.
“Mr. D—… Mr. Stark canceled our lab day for tomorrow.
Apparently Ms. Potts is determined to drag him to a shareholders meeting
he’s been putting off for a month.
She told him that if he didn’t go, she’d haul him all the way to Japan for the next one.
So… I’m going to the Tower on Sunday instead of tomorrow.”
Ned immediately pouted and gave Peter’s shoulder a consoling pat.
“Aw man, that sucks. But I’m sure Mr. Stark will make it up to you.
Every time he cancels plans, he goes all out.
I mean… we’re talking about Tony Stark.”
MJ flipped a page, a faint smirk tugging at her lips as she glanced sideways at Peter.
“Did you almost call him Mr. Dad?”
Peter went scarlet in an instant, as if he’d been caught without his mask.
“No!” he blurted, desperately trying not to look at MJ.
Her grin was practically musical.
“Sure, sure… Mr. Dad.”
Peter made a noise that was half cough, half protest, and quickly turned to Ned to change the subject.
“Oh my gosh! Remember what he did last time he canceled our plans?”
Ned’s face lit up immediately.
“Dude, how could I forget?
The guy bought out an entire mall the next day so the two of you could shop in private!”
MJ rolled her eyes and closed her book with a soft thump.
“He could’ve just rented it.
But no, Mr. Show-Off had to go over the top.”
Peter ran his hands through his hair and buried his face in his arms.
“That was the most ridiculous, most bizarre day of my life.
Still… better than the time he tried to buy me a jet.
I barely managed to stop him.”
Ned burst out laughing so hard he nearly knocked over his tray.
“Dude, Mr. Stark literally lives to spoil you!”
MJ, eyes back on her book, muttered under her breath,
“At least he still doesn’t know the mall is technically still registered in his name.”
Peter’s head whipped toward MJ so fast his neck gave a little crack.
“Wait a minute… what did you just say?”
MJ gave him a perfectly blank look.
“I didn’t say anything, Parker.”
Peter stared at her stone-faced expression. He swallowed.
Was he hearing things, or did she really…?
No, no, impossible.
Someone please tell him that was just a joke!
While the panic sirens blared inside Peter’s head, Ned distracted him.
“Wait a sec… If you’re not going to the Tower tomorrow,
that means you’ll be home alone for a day.
Is Aunt May okay with that?”
Peter jolted.
“Uh—no! Aunt May would never allow that!”
MJ rolled her eyes, her voice practically saying, We all know why.
“And for very good reason.”
Peter pouted and shot MJ a wounded look.
“I only once accidentally performed a summoning ritual, okay! Once!
And the spirit who came through was a perfectly sweet chef ghost!”
Ned’s eyes sparkled as he leaned in.
“Dude! I gave that chef ghost’s recipe to Lola and she loved it!
Seriously, that soup was amazing.”
MJ rolled her eyes again.
Peter, this time, grinned proudly—
but the kicked-puppy expression soon crept back onto his face.
“But… Aunt May won’t leave me alone.
She’ll cancel her girls’ night because there’s no one to watch me.
It’ll be my fault… I keep holding her back…”
MJ snapped her book shut so fast it made a small thud on the table.There was a hint of anger in her voice.
“Oh my God, Parker! Don’t start that stupid guilt spiral. How can someone so smart be this dumb at the same time? All you have to do is invite Ned and me over for a sleepover.
Your aunt will be perfectly fine knowing the three of us are together. It’s that simple!”
Ned and Peter stared at MJ as if she had just grown a third eye.
Peter blinked several times in quick succession.
Then his face lit up like an overexcited golden retriever.
“OH MY GOSH, you’re a genius, MJ! That’s brilliant!
How did I not think of that?!”
He slammed his hands on the table in excitement.
“So… tomorrow night, will you guys please come over for a sleepover?
I promise it’ll be so much fun!”
Ned threw his hands in the air with equal enthusiasm.
“Dude, we haven’t had a sleepover in forever. Awesome! I’m in!”
MJ stood up calmly amid their noise,
closed her book in both hands,
and without hesitation gave each of them a light bop on the head. (Definitely gently.)
“I’m in too. See you tomorrow… losers.”
Peter let out a dramatic “Ahh!” and pretended to clutch his head,
but a huge grin spread across his face.
Perfect.
Tomorrow he’d have a sleepover with his two best friends.
He was already looking forward to it.
---
SATURDAY
Peter had finally convinced Aunt May that he, Ned, and MJ could spend the night on their own.
His aunt was still hesitant about leaving three sixteen-year-olds alone,
but after arranging for their next-door neighbor Mrs. Winston to drop by occasionally to check on them— and officially declaring MJ the “responsible adult in charge”— she finally agreed.
(Peter grumbled inwardly, I can be perfectly responsible too, but surrendered quietly in the face of MJ’s natural “leader charisma.”
Yes ma’am, zero objections!)
Ned and MJ arrived around ten in the morning.
Aunt May kept a hawk-like watch on the trio for a good couple of hours
before finally deciding to head out.
“Peter, honey, I’m leaving!
When I get back I want all of you in one piece—
and absolutely no more chef ghosts in the house!”
While Ned and MJ snickered, Peter scowled.
“It only happened once!”
May planted a loving kiss on Peter’s forehead.
“Once is enough; I don’t want another shock.
I love you, baby. Take care of yourselves.”
Peter didn’t hold back his adorable grin.
“I love you too! Take care of yourself! Byeee!”
After Ned and MJ said their own goodbyes, Aunt May closed the door and left.
Peter clapped his hands together, his eyes sparkling.
“Let the fun begin!” .
.
.
First stop—at Ned’s insistence: a Marvel movie marathon. The opening logo hadn’t even finished spinning when Peter couldn’t resist blurting out,
“But the Star Wars movies—”
Without even lifting her eyes from her book, MJ said in a flat voice,
“Both are overrated.”
The argument ignited instantly. Peter threw his hands in the air—“This is betrayal!”—while Ned whispered, “With that one sentence she just offended two fandoms at once.”
By noon Ned suggested, “Let’s squeeze in some D&D.” Peter got so carried away playing the traitor that Karen’s voice echoed from his phone:
“Peter Parker, your bluff level is at 14%. Warning.”
MJ burst into laughter while Ned cornered Peter and won the game. Peter threw his hands up.
“Karen, whose side are you on!?”
Karen calmly replied, “The side of logic.”
When lunchtime came around, the debate over “Who can make the better waffles?” turned into a full-blown sugar storm.
Peter tried flipping waffles with his web-shooters. The result: the ceiling was now decorated with tiny sugar mountains.
MJ rolled her eyes but didn’t forget to open her phone camera.
“If I send this video to Stark, how many minutes do you think it’ll take for us to get a hologram warning?”
Ned poured a mountain of syrup over every waffle.
“This is how science progresses!” he cheered.
Around four o’clock it was time for “Truth or Dare.” MJ leaned in with a sly smile.
“Tell the truth, Parker— you do want to call Stark ‘Dad’, don’t you?”
Peter’s face turned the exact shade of Spider-Man red without the mask.
“No!”
Ned doubled over in a fit of laughter.
“That denial is 0% convincing!”
As the sun began to set, the horror movie marathon kicked off. The first to scream—of course it had to be the one who swore “I’m not scared”—was Ned.
Peter and MJ took turns teasing him. MJ lifted her phone, recording.
“Historic moment: Ned Leeds scared of his own shadow,” she announced.
The result? An epic pillow fight.
Ned grabbed a giant pillow and yelled, “Spider-Bombardment!” Peter swung a pillow a little too hard and ripped it open, and MJ lifted her phone high.
“I have evidence, Parker—caught red-handed!”
Eventually they all collapsed onto the couch from exhaustion. A sweet quiet settled over the house until Peter dramatically declared,
“I’m bored!”
MJ tossed a pillow straight at his face.
“Oh no, Parker, not everyone is super-resilient like you! Look at Leeds—half-dead on the couch.”
Ned protested weakly,
“No I’m not.”
MJ rolled her eyes and tossed Peter his phone.
“Go scroll through social media.”
Peter accepted with a pout; he couldn’t tire his friends out any further. He wandered through Instagram, and when nothing exciting popped up, he switched to TikTok. Among the endless videos, his eyes caught a new trend set to one of his favorite musicals: Hamilton.
Peter grinned to himself. I’ll never get tired of this. Then a brilliant idea struck him.
“I just got the BEST idea!”
Ned instantly sat upright.
“Nothing good in history has ever started with that sentence but… go on!”
MJ gave him a sharp look.
“Parker, I swear if this is something exhausting—”
Peter excitedly showed them the trend.
“‘Alexander, come back to sleep!’ Look, this trend is amazing and we should totally do it! Rule of the pajama party: shoot ridiculous videos. Come on, pleeeease!”
Ned’s energy refilled like a battery.
“Dude, that’s awesome! Come on, MJ!”
MJ let out a deep sigh and closed her book.
“Fine, losers. Let’s do it.”
Two voices shouted in unison, “Yes!”
Peter added eagerly,
“Okay, everyone’s doing this trend with gender-swapped roles. MJ, we’ll dress you up as Hamilton!”
MJ frowned.
“No. Not happening. You two idiots put on the costumes, I’ll film you.”
Peter whined,
“Come on, MJ, pleeeeaaaase…”
MJ shot him her scariest glare. Peter went silent immediately.
Right then Ned lit up.
“Better idea! Instead of Hamilton, what if we do Tony Stark and Pepper Potts? Stark is always skipping meetings or—like Peter says—skipping sleep. And Pepper always has to drag him somewhere. You two play them!”
MJ, surprisingly impressed, said,
“For once you’ve said something good, Leeds. Fine, I’ll be Pepper Potts.”
Peter was stunned by MJ’s quick acceptance, but in the end, he was just happy he’d get to shoot the video.
“Ned, you’re a genius! Let’s do it!”
A short while later everything was ready. MJ had put on a red wig and one of May’s old but still fabulous business suits—and somehow looked exactly like Pepper Potts.
As for Peter… thanks to Ned’s hand-drawn fake goatee, the classic Stark sunglasses, and—most shocking of all—a genuine three-piece suit that definitely belonged to Tony Stark, he was the perfect imitation.
Ned and MJ stood side by side staring at Peter. MJ gave him a slow once-over and smirked.
“Well… I guess we can call you Stark Junior now.”
Peter turned crimson.
“MJJJJ!”
Ned’s jaw dropped.
“Dude! Is this an Armani suit?! Wait a second… this is the exact suit Tony Stark wore in that magazine spread last week! Where did you get this?!”
Peter’s face flushed even deeper as he stammered,
“I—uh—just got it somehow… I’ll explain later! Let’s just shoot the video! Come on, come on!”
MJ shot him a you’re not getting away without explaining later look, while Ned simply clapped his hands and eagerly set up the camera.
☆☆☆
The video begins on Ned’s camera. Peter—fake goatee, sunglasses, and Tony’s three-piece suit—dramatically tries to climb through the window. He’s so over-the-top and clumsy that Ned’s giggle can be heard in the first second.
Suddenly MJ, wearing the red wig and a serious business suit—practically Pepper Potts’ twin—steps into the frame.
“Alexander, come back to sleep,” MJ (in full Pepper mode) says, rolling her eyes in the exact tone of someone giving her fifth warning.
Peter freezes like he’s been caught in 4K. “I have an early meeting out of town,” he mutters, as if he really has a three-hour flight to catch.
MJ crosses her arms, eyebrows raised. “It’s still dark outside.”
“I know, I just need to write something down,” Peter says, miming an invisible pen as if he’s jotting down the most critical notes for Stark Industries.
MJ frowns and leans in. “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?”
“Shhhhhhh!” Peter suddenly presses a finger to his lips with the most chaotic “quiet” gesture ever. Ned laughs so hard the phone camera shakes.
“Come back to bed, that would be enough,” MJ sighs, pointing behind her as if Pepper is really trying to drag Tony back to bed.
“I’ll be back before you know I’m gone,” Peter tries to flash a confident, Tony-like grin—but what comes out is pure Parker awkwardness.
“Come back to—” MJ doesn’t even get to finish the line before Peter’s foot slips and he actually slides down from the window ledge.
“PETER!” MJ shouts, genuine panic in her voice. At the same time Ned’s voice yells, “OH MY GOD PETER!”
MJ instantly leans out the window as if she’s about to leap seven stories down after him. The camera jolts wildly; just as Ned tries to cut the recording, the video abruptly ends.
☆☆☆
PRESENT
And here we are—Peter, lost in his thoughts, suddenly lands hard on something.
(But definitely not the floor—this feeling is all too familiar; this is definitely not concrete.)
His breath catches for a moment, his vision darkens.
Looking up at the slightly star-speckled, blurry night sky, he groans:
“F… this is officially the third worst fall I’ve ever taken… ughhh.”
He tilts his head slightly—and suddenly his view fills with garbage bags.
And then… that awful smell.
As soon as it hits his nose, his stomach turns.
“Ugh… no, I’m gonna puke… seriously…”
(Today might be my lucky day, but not that lucky.)
Perhaps the universe was being merciful: Peter’s bedroom window faces the back alley, and the trash bin below hasn’t been emptied yet.
He sends a quiet thanks to the Saturday stars.
At least he didn’t stick to the asphalt like chewing gum. Thank goodness.
Before he can finish his silent prayer of gratitude, he feels two hearts pounding wildly, approaching fast.
Then a scream tears through the street:
“PETER!”
Ughhh… MJ is going to kill him. No doubt about it.
Immediately followed by Ned’s voice:
“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD PETER PLEASE DON’T BE DEAD!”
Their footsteps run up; both of them reach the trash bin where Peter is, and he looks at them with a slightly awkward grin:
“So… how fast do you think I can heal without Aunt May noticing I broke an arm?”
Ned collapses on the spot, relieved to see Peter alive and mostly intact; MJ grips the wall and takes a deep breath.
“Peter. Benjamin. Parker.”
Peter’s face goes even paler.
(This was the “MJ is really going to bury me” tone.)
“Wait, MJ, I swear, just give me one second of attention—”
MJ cuts him off with the cold precision of a fighter pilot:
“YOU SON OF A—”
Peter’s brain shorts out.
“Ohhh… shit.”
And there it is… that night, MJ swore directly at Peter’s face for the first time in the history of their friendship.
.
.
.
Later that same night, the new Hamilton trend video went viral.
Not just because the trend was popular, or because of the costumes and humor…
It went viral because Tony Stark himself commented five different times.
Under Peter’s video appeared the now-famous blue check username: @YouKnowWhoIm
@YouKnowWhoIm: “Peter how did you get that suit???”
@YouKnowWhoIm: “Pepper has better hair than that.”
↳ reply: “she says so herself.”
@YouKnowWhoIm: “I don’t shush like that.”
@YouKnowWhoIm: “Peter Parker answer my phonecalls right now! You’re in so much trouble when you get back to the tower.”
@YouKnowWhoIm: “Peter, you’re grounded.”
The video spread across the internet in an instant. The comment section went absolutely insane:
💬 @fangirl_iron: OH MY GOD TONY STARK ACTUALLY WATCHED THIS VIDEO!
💬 @musicalnerd88: “Who is this diva perfectly playing Pepper in the video??”
💬 @costumegeek: “The costumes are SO cute! Who helped this kid, who styled him?!”
💬 @oldmanYells: “Kids these days are completely crazy… back in my day you weren’t allowed to jump out windows!”
💬 @broadwayisLife: “This trend just keeps getting BETTER. But this version… with Tony’s comments, it’s legendary.”
💬 @anxiousAuntie: “Am I the only one worried about this kid??? HE FELL OUT OF A WINDOW!!??”
---
At that moment, Peter, Ned, and MJ were caught red-handed by Aunt May, who had come home unexpectedly early. Apparently, despite her poor eyesight, Mrs. Winston had a hearing sense that could rival superheroes, instantly sniffing out the trio’s mischief.
While bandaging Peter’s arm to keep it intact, May scolded them sharply in that precise, cutting tone:
“You three… have literally… lost your minds! How many rules can you break overnight when I’m gone, huh?”
As families arrived to pick up Ned and MJ, May prepared to take Peter to the tower for his arm. Before leaving, Ned and MJ turned back for one last glance at Peter. He returned their looks with a full, toothy grin, as if he hadn’t just fallen out of a window.
Of course, Aunt May wouldn’t allow that grin: in one swift motion, she grabbed Peter by the ear and tugged him toward the door.
---
At the tower, Tony Stark waited, arms crossed. The line between his eyebrows was a live testament to how many times he had watched Peter’s disaster video.
Peter looked away, embarrassed, while Tony fixed a look that might have been a smile—but was actually a “I’m about to lose it” glare.
“Alright, young man,” Tony said, winking with a slightly threatening tone, “we’re going to review our safety lesson. Also, new rule: no falling out the seventh-floor window during pajama parties.”
May stood beside Tony, amused yet still stern:
“And from now on, I’m never leaving you at home with friends unsupervised. Period.”
Peter whimpered like a kicked puppy, giving them both the classic Parker-puppy-dog eyes.
“But Aunt May, Mr. Dad—”
Tony raised an eyebrow and cut in immediately.
“No, Peter, nope. Go straight to Madbey, Dr. Cho is waiting.”
Dragging himself dramatically toward the doctor’s office, Peter sighed while May glanced at Tony and smirked faintly.
“Peter just called you Dad. You heard that right.”
Tony’s face showed a flash of mild horror, then mostly pride and a tiny bit of happiness. The corners of his mouth involuntarily turned up.
“At least I know I wasn’t hallucinating,” he murmured, then more seriously added, “I want you to know how honored I am, May. That Peter sees me as a father figure—”
May interrupted gently with a soft pat, smiling.
“No need to tell me what you already know, Tony.”
Just then, a shout came from inside—this time pure excitement, not pain. Peter came running with his phone in hand, followed by Dr. Cho yelling, “Parker, I said put ice on your arm!”
Peter’s eyes went wide.
“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD! MAY! DAD! HamiltonMusical officially commented on the video!” he nearly screamed, practically bouncing on his knees.
He held the phone out in front of Tony and May. On the screen was the comment:
@HamiltonMusical: “10/10 costume, 0/10 safety precautions. Loved the dramatic entrance but falling out the window? Not in the rehearsal plan. 😅”
Then another notification popped up. Peter looked curiously at the name and immediately screamed again—this time two octaves higher.
“OH MY GOD—HAMILTON HIMSELF REPLIED!”
The comment on the screen nearly made his eyes pop out of his skull:
@linmanuelmirandaofficial:
“The whole cast right now is thinking one sentence: Stay Alive. (Seriously kid, STAY ALIVE!)”
Peter’s voice turned into a tiny fangirl squeal; he clapped his hands like he was on a Broadway stage, celebrating.
May and Tony reflexively yelled at the same time:
“PETER!”
Peter flinched like a cat caught mid-air.
“SORRY!” he shouted back, his voice still cracking with happiness.
Tony rolled his eyes but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards involuntarily.
May put her hands on her hips, muttering,
“This kid is getting a social media ban, I’ve decided,”
—but neither could hide the grin on their faces.