Chapter Text
It was a typical New York morning: cars beeping, people shouting, and Petra Parker fast asleep, the bottom half of her suit still on after a busy night of crime-fighting. Her phone soon interrupted the quiet with a ring.
“Hello?” Petra asked in a very feminine tone before snapping awake and coughing, “I mean hello”, trying to sound more manly.
“PARKER!” Jonah bellowed down the line, “GET YOUR OVERPAID ASS HERE THIS INSTANT! I PAY YOU TO WORK, NOT SLEEP!”
Petra glanced over at the clock; she was late… very late. Jumping out of bed, she tripped over her suit and fell to the floor, groaning. She grabbed her phone, which had fallen to the floor with her. “Sorry, Mr Jameson, my alarm didn’t go off,” she said, wincing and holding her chest.
“DO I SOUND LIKE I CARE, PARKER? IF YOU’RE NOT HERE IN THE NEXT THIRTY MINUTES, YOU’LL BE DOING PIECES ON DOG SHOWS UNTIL YOU RETIRE!” Jonah continued berating before hanging up.
Petra wriggled free of the suit tangled around her legs and stumbled to the wardrobe, still half-listening for Jonah to somehow scream through the dead phone line. She dragged hangers aside in a frantic rhythm. “No. No. Absolutely not. Oh God, why do I own that?” Then her hand stopped on a burgundy midi dress with white spots, the one she had bought the week before and sworn she would only try on in private. For one reckless second, she smiled. She brushed her teeth, fixed her hair, pressed a patch to her thigh, dabbed on a little foundation and lip gloss, and slipped into the dress with a pair of heels. In the mirror, she posed before she could stop herself, a euphoric warmth blooming through her chest as the woman looking back at her. Then she reached for the door and froze. The voices arrived before she could move.
Oh my god, what is Peter wearing?
What a freak.
Hey, weirdo, nice dress.
PARKER, I DON’T WANT DEGENERATES WORKING AT MY PAPER. YOU’RE FIRED!
Petra sat at her door, tears rolling down her face. “Come on, Petra, you can do this. You’re an Avenger. You’ve fought against world-ending threats. What's so scary about wearing a dress in public?” she whispered to herself. “Just open the door and go outside.”
Petra arrived at the Daily Bugle in a pair of baggy jeans and a black hoodie, the dress abandoned. Today was not the day she would stop boymoding. She kept her head down as she crossed the office, trying not to imagine every pair of eyes turning toward her. Everyone seemed busy at their desks, everyone except Betty, who hurried over with a concerned look.
“You better get in there; Jonah is maaaaaad,” Betty emphasised before her eyes began to look down, staring directly at Petra’s hoodie before realising that Petra was looking. “Oh, um, nice jumper,” she said, her cheeks going red.
“T-Thanks, it was on sale,” Petra stuttered, hoping Betty hadn’t noticed.
“PARKER!” Jonah shouted from his office, “QUIT GOSSIPING ABOUT CLOTHES AND GET IN HERE!”
“Coming, Mr Jameson,” Petra shouted in a very feminine tone, wincing; of all the times for her voice training to kick in. Walking down past the rows of desks, her mind went through every possible scenario. She had been keeping her transition a secret; there was no way anyone had noticed yet. To everyone, she was still Peter Parker, just one with shoulder-length hair who had gone on a new diet and started a skincare routine. Entering Jameson’s office, she saw him sitting, smoking a cigar. “Mr Jameson, I can explain.”
“PARKER, WHAT IS THIS?” Jonah barked, holding up the article Petra had written. It had the headline “SPIDERMAN SAVES ORPHAN FROM RHINO RAMPAGE,” and, oddly, of all things, he was pointing to SPIDERMAN.
“Uh……..” Petra answered. She couldn’t understand it; it was just a picture of her saving a kid from Rhino. She must have done that a million times by now.
“Spiderman….SpiderMAN, Parker, I know you only have two functioning brain cells in that head of yours, but try and get them to work together for once,” lifting a picture Petra had taken. “Parker, what do you see?”
“A picture of Spider-Man,” Petra answered.
“Oh really, did you not notice how…womanly Spider-Man’s figure is?” Jonah asked.
Petra gulped, looking closer. Her suit had been getting a little tight recently, resulting in a rather embarrassing situation where it ripped during a particularly strenuous fight with Doc Ock, who oddly was more embarrassed than she was. So, when she was repairing it, she made some alterations so it fitted nicely against her figure. That’s when it clicked. “…..oh.”
“Now you listen here, Parker. I may hate that webbed menace, but I’ll be damned if they accuse me of running a transphobic newspaper. This isn’t The New York Times. Now go fix this damn article and, while you’re at it, find out what she goes by now.”
“Yes, Mr Jameson,” Petra replied.
“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU STILL STANDING THERE? GET OUT!” Jameson commanded. Petra rushed out. Jonah turned to Robbie Robertson, who had been quietly watching while sipping his afternoon coffee. “Would it be sexist to say she’s gotten dumber since she became a woman?”
“Very, and while we are talking about Parker, HR have been asking about her. She hasn’t put in a request to update her details, and we’ve been getting a few queries, like one from Tony Stark asking why she was wearing her brother’s lanyard when we did that exclusive with him last week,” Robbie answered, “not to mention the, um, situation regarding her…”
Jonah sighed, “BETTY!”
“Yes, Mr Jameson?” Betty asked, coming into the office.
“You and Parker are friends, right?” Jonah asked.
“I mean… we used to date,” Betty answered, “but yeah, I’d say we are friends.”
“Well then, find out what she goes by now so I can get HR to shut up. Also, take her shopping. I know Parker is probably more familiar with the male dress code, but it's no excuse. It's starting to become a very noticeable problem, and I know you’ve been noticing it on quite a few occasions.”
“Of course, Mr Jameson,” Betty answered, leaving the office. Desperately embarrassed, she wondered: had Mr Jameson seen her? Deciding not to think about that, she looked around, but Petra was nowhere to be seen.
Sitting in a bathroom stall, her head buried in her hands, Petra muttered to herself, “Stupid, stupid, stupid. What was I thinking? No one will notice. Of course they’d notice. God, I’m such an idiot… wait, if Jonah noticed...” A terrible realisation hit her like a ton of bricks.
Several miles away, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark and Natasha Romanov were having a meeting.
“I still don’t understand why it has to be me,” she asked.
“Well, Nat, it's because it will sound less… inappropriate if you do it,” Tony awkwardly answered.
“What Tony is trying to say is that this is a conversation that is best handled woman to woman,” Steve added.
“Then why couldn’t we ask Janet or Jessica or any of the other female heroes?” Nat asked. “And it's hardly woman to woman; I’m old enough to be her…” She stopped mid-sentence, giving Tony, who looked like he was about to remark on her age, an icy glare.
“Because Parker has made it a point not to tell anyone, so until she decides to let everyone else know, the fewer people involved, the better. It would sound better coming from someone she respects,” Steve answered.
“That we think she should start wearing a bra?” Nat asked bluntly.
The room went silent.
A few hours later, Petra was back in her apartment, having climbed out of a window to avoid everyone. Stripping down to her black boy shorts, she stared at her reflection, her hands going up to her chest then down, following her waist to her hips then back around to her rear. She hadn’t expected results so quickly; she had assumed due to her body’s accelerated metabolism and higher drug tolerance that it would have reduced the effectiveness of her medication. Looking at herself, the opposite had occurred; she wasn’t sure if it was her being afraid or her denying the obvious. Buried in her thoughts, she continued staring until being interrupted by her doorbell. Quickly grabbing her hoodie, she made her way to the door, looking through the peephole to see a woman with long black hair and sunglasses holding several bags.
“Hey Parker, can I come in?” she asked, lowering her sunglasses a little to let Petra see her eyes. “It’s me.”
Petra froze. What was Black Widow doing at her front door?
Opening the door a little, she cleared her throat. “Hey, Ms Romanov, h-how are you?” she asked.
“Great, Tony was generous enough to lend me his credit card,” she answered with a tone that made Petra worry about the current condition of Mr Stark. “So are you going to keep a lady waiting or…”
“Oh, sorry, one second,” Petra awkwardly replied, grabbing her jeans and quickly pulling them up, then opening the door. “Sorry about that.”
Natasha looked around; she was aware of Parker’s financial situation, the theorised running cost of Spider-Man, the fact the only listed financial assistance from SHIELD and the Avengers being all Spider-Man related, it made her wonder if there was some underlying reason.
“So, um, what do you need, Ms Romanov?” Petra asked.
“Well… Peter,” Nat started. Saying that felt wrong, like it was an insult. “Is there something that you want to tell me?”
“I… I… um…” Petra stuttered, the words failing to manifest until she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Listen, whatever it is, stays between you and me. I can keep a secret,” Nat said in a reassuring tone.
Petra’s mouth opened, then closed, then opened again, like she was trying to figure out what to say, until one word came out. “Petra,” she whispered.
“What?” Nat asked.
“C-Can you call me Petra?” Petra asked.
“Of course I can. So, Petra, is there something you wish to tell me?” Nat smiled. Progress.
Hearing someone else, especially another Avenger, say her name made a smile form on Petra’s face: not the fake ones she had used for years, but a true smile of unfiltered happiness. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around Natasha, hugging her tightly until a new sensation occurred, one she had never experienced before. She jumped back, cheeks red. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said, turning away.
“Petra honey, relax, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I mean, She-Hulk does it all the time. At least we are the same height,” Nat joked. “But there is something we need to talk about.”
“Oh,” Petra muttered. “Is it because I broke Scorpion’s jaw? I didn’t mean to; it’s just I’ve been feeling stronger lately and haven’t gotten used to holding back more.”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” Nat responded, making a mental note to add that Petra was stronger to her profile. “This is about, um…your chest.”
Petra blushed. “Oh…it’s starting to become noticeable, huh?”
“Starting…Petra, it’s been noticeable for the last three months,” Nat responded, raising an eyebrow. Was she really that oblivious? “Now it’s more of a concern, which is why I went shopping,” she said, reaching in and grabbing a black sports bra.
Petra stepped back “Oh come on they aren’t that big yet, I can still…”
“Petra, I say this as a friend and as a woman, you need to start wearing a bra” Nat interrupted “now take off the hoodie, I had to eyeball your size so I bought a couple sizes and a measuring tape”
“N-No, it’s OK, I can,” Petra tried to argue, but a few steps and a struggle later, Petra was standing topless, covering her chest with her arms.
Nat’s eyes widened “Seriously, how is your back not killing you”
“My back always hurts” Petra replied as Nat turned her around, the cold measuring tape being wrapped around her “do you know what you are doing?”
“No wonder with a pair that big” Nat muttered “I went undercover once at a designer lingerie store, had a target who came in for a custom fitting, you know a measuring tape is quite effective at strangling someone if you find yourself without a piano wire”
Petra gulped “So…they are big huh”
“Petra, any bigger and you’d be up against Emma Frost,” Nat replied. “I can’t understand why you’ve waited so long.”
“I thought I’d have at least a few more months before I had to stop boymoding,” Petra replied. “I…I thought having to start wearing a bra would mean…”
Nat looked at Petra and sighed “Petra, your hair is nearly as long as mine, I know nine different women who’d kill to get a body like that and I’m not using that as an idiom and your voice, whenever you try and sound manly just sounds like you’ve got a cold, it sounds so naturally feminine”
“So I’m male-failing now?” Petra asked
“You’ve been doing at least the last two months; didn’t you notice that Johnny Storm was hitting on you?” Nat asked.
“I just thought he was being nice” Petra answered
Nat groaned. How did someone whose profile had twelve pages devoted to their love life not notice someone was hitting on them? “Hey Parker, you look amazing, have you been working out?” Nat said in a condescending mimicry of the Human Torch. “You know that suit of yours is a little boring. Ever thought about changing it up a little?”
Petra’s face went bright red. “Oh God, he was hitting on me,” she said, absolutely mortified. “I can’t show my face at another one of those parties ever again.”
Nat laughed “relax, when you left Tony went and had a little chat with him”
“He didn’t have to do that,” Petra sighed.
“Of course he didn’t but he did because he cared about you” Nat answered as she grabbed a sports bra “you’re a 38C by the way”
Petra gulped and put on the bra, slipping it on and adjusting the cups, looking at herself, she smiled at the woman staring back at her.
“See, doesn’t that feel better?” Nat smiled. “Now you won’t be flashing everyone every time you show up to an Avenger’s meeting.”
Petra laughed awkwardly “yeah, sorry about that”
“But seriously, did you not realise everyone was staring at your chest?” Nat asked
“I mean..I was starting to expect it when Wade started leaving voicemails” Petra laughed as she grabbed her phone and played one of them.
“To my best friend Spidey, a composition for you…Spider boobs, Spider boobs, spectacular pair of chest balloons, in desperate need of a bra, what’s your size? Can old Wade have a spy? Look out, here come the spider boobs.”
“Well at least he’s asking first” Nat said, trying to not sound disgusted.
“Oh trust me, they get worse, apparently he has one for every variation of my theme song” Petra replied rolling her eyes “but pretty much are all variations of can I see them or let me give them a squeeze”
“You have a theme song?” Nat asked
“No idea, knowing Wade he made it up on the spot” Petra joked “you know beneath all the murder, perversion and toilet humour he is actually a nice guy”
“I’ll have to take your word on that” Nat replied.
Meanwhile, on the rooftop of the building across, the Merc with the Mouth was looking through a pair of binoculars before putting them down.
“Oh hey readers, yeah, it’s your old buddy Deadpool. Now you may be saying to yourself, Wade, are you seriously spying on your best friend? And the answer is yes, purely for scientific purposes,” Wade lied “Hey writer, you better change that" said totally honestly, because he was such a nice guy. "You see? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Picking up the binoculars again to continue his…scientific observation, he was met with closed curtains. “Oh, Seabiscuit. Well, guess I’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way. Hey reader, you ever see Love Actually?”
Back in the apartment, Nat was sitting waiting for Petra to finish getting dressed when there was a knock at the door “I’ll get it” she announced, opening it to be met with Deadpool holding a placard with a CD player playing carol music.
SAY IT’S CAROL SINGERS
“Go away, Wade,” Nat said coldly.
I JUST WANT TO SAY
I REALLY
REALLY
REALLY
WANT TO SEE PETRA’S BOOBS
“Go away, Wade,” she repeated.
PLLEEAAAAAAASSSSEEEEE!!!!!!
Nat pulled out a gun and aimed it at his head
OK
OK
I’M GOING
Wade walked away, then came back holding another placard.
DID ANYONE EVER TELL YOU THAT YOU LOOK LIKE SCARLETT JOHANSSON?
Nat lowered her gun to his crotch.
OK OK GOING, JUST AVOID ANY CLIFFS
“Who was that?” Petra shouted as Nat closed the door.
“Carol singers,” Nat answered.
“In August?” Petra asked confused as she stepped out in the dress she had tried on earlier.
“Wow, that looks great and I bet the bra is helping” Nat said in a tone that sounded almost motherly “Now how about I do your makeup and we go for some drinks?”
Petra froze “I..are you sure, what if people make fun of me?” she asked.
“Petra, if anyone says anything, I’ll show them an old trick I learned in the Red Room,” Nat said, putting her arm around Petra. “Now, are you wanting a smoky look or something more casual?”
Outside, Wade sat defeated, his attempts to see Petra’s boobs thwarted. Maybe he needed to sit down and have a good long…
“Oh no no no no. This isn’t over. I swear on Marvel Jesus that I will see Petra’s boobs if it’s the last thing I do,” Wade said. “Now writer, I sent you a little suggestion on the next chapter. You better do it, or old Wade will inflict the AO3 curse on your kneecaps, capiche?”