Chapter Text
The day was finally here.
After spending two whole years fighting with endless case studies and surviving on four hours of sleep a night and black, cheap coffee—hoping and praying that some enterprise would notice your resume—you were finally where you were supposed to be.
The big leagues.
Stark Industries.
The small waiting room outside the office was as fancy and expensive as you had imagined.
But despite your best attempts at looking professional and chic, you still didn’t match the vibe. You still felt like some college girl who could barely solve a simple equation.
But you weren’t.
You wouldn’t be here otherwise.
You were about to work side-by-side with one of the most respected women in the field: Pepper Potts.
And who knows? With any luck, you might even cross paths with Tony Stark himself someday.
Anything was possible in that moment. You just had to work hard enough.
And maybe buy some better clothes.
"The boss is gonna see you now," said a man in a black suit with a terrifying expression. He seemed to belong in an action movie, not a tech company. "He’s waiting inside."
You practically jumped out of your seat.
After taking a deep breath, you walked straight to the heavy door, pausing right in front of it to steady your nerves before knocking three times and stepping inside, your heart racing dangerously
However, the moment you laid eyes on the desk—specifically, the man behind it—you froze.
There, sitting in a chair that clearly wasn’t made for him, was a guy.
A regular guy, who looked like he’d barely survived his senior prom.
His brown hair was a windblown disaster, his tie was visibly crooked, and he was currently staring at three floating holographic screens with an expression of pure panic.
Where was Mrs. Potts?
Where was Tony Stark?
Why was a guy who seemed like he barely knew how to tie his shoes sitting in the CEO's chair?
"No, Ned. I swear I signed the lease for the Boston facility—no, wait, I think it was the Avengers Initiative—"
His mouth snapped shut the moment he finally noticed your presence. Panic washed over his face.
After abruptly hanging up, he stood up and tried to step away from the desk, violently bumping his knee against the corner in the process.
"Shit—fuck, I’m sorry," he stammered, making his way toward you while frantically adjusting a pair of blue-tinted glasses that were slipping down his nose.
They looked just like Tony Stark’s signature shades, making him look less like an executive and more like a kid wearing a bad cosplay.
When he got close enough, he extended a hand. For a split second, you were genuinely afraid it would be sticky, like a kid covered in jam.
"H-hi, you must be the new EA. I’m so sorry about the mess. I thought you were coming thirty minutes from now. I-I’m Peter. Peter Parker. The… CEO."
You didn’t believe him—mostly because he didn’t seem to believe his own words either.
He was blushing, for God's sake.
Your gaze flickered between his hand and his face at least three times before you finally shook it, offering a firm, professional grip.
Peter Parker?
Who the fuck was Peter Parker?
Where were the adults?
Why was a multi-billion-dollar tech conglomerate being run by a kid who looked like he routinely forgot where he parked his bike?
"I-it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Parker," you muttered in disbelief.
"Oh, y-you can call me Peter. Just Peter. Mr. Parker was my uncle—and he’s dead," he announced blithely, as if it weren't a massive buzzkill. Your widened eyes immediately signaled his mistake, and he quickly raised his hands in panic. "I-it’s okay! It was a long time ago. I didn’t mean—I mean, I do miss him, but that’s not what I—"
"Peter," you stopped him, genuinely concerned his brain might short-circuit from sheer anxiety. "It’s fine. I’m sorry about your uncle, though."
Your eyes darted between this visibly overwhelmed guy and the absurdly advanced tech behind him.
Your brain was trying to connect the dots, but nothing made sense.
"L-look, I know what you’re thinking," he said, catching your attention. The soft, earnest look in his eyes made you melt just a little. "You spent two years fighting your way through business school, hoping to work alongside an industry giant like Mrs. Potts—who, by the way, is completely fine, in case you were wondering—and instead, you got… me. A guy who currently has a piece of tape stuck to the back of his blazer."
The piece of tape was honestly the least of your concerns.
"The truth is, I'm almost as surprised as you are. I still don’t fully understand why Mr. Stark and Mrs. Potts put me here," he explained, pacing around the room as if it were his first time seeing it, taking in the luxury. "They told me they wanted to spend more time with little Morgan since she’s starting school next year—oh, Morgan’s their daughter, by the way—but it still feels like an elaborate excuse to torture me."
You didn’t know Peter, but you did know a thing or two about the minds behind Stark Industries.
If Tony and Pepper put him in charge, there had to be a reason. He couldn't be completely useless, even if his appearance practically screamed it.
"Why would it be torture?" you asked, probing for more information.
"Because I’m clearly not built for this!" he burst out with a helpless laugh. "I know how to build a particle accelerator piece by piece, but I have no idea how to read a… quarterly earnings report," he confessed, glancing down at the cover of a folder on his desk. Then he looked back at you, a tiny spark in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. "T-that's why I need you."
With the initial shock wearing off, you began to see the silver lining.
Sure, it wasn't what you expected, but it could be a thousand times worse. You could’ve ended up working for a tyrant.
Instead, you were paired with Peter Parker—a total dork who didn’t seem to have a single malicious bone in his body.
"If you’re half as competent as your resume says you are, you’re not just going to be my executive assistant. You’re going to be my savior," he declared, his eyes shining with absolute sincerity.
Looking at him was like looking at a lost stray puppy silently begging for help.
And it wasn’t like you had a stack of other job offers waiting for you.
Who were you trying to fool?
"So, please… could you stay and help me stop a multi-billion-dollar corporation from going down the drain before lunch?"
Who knew? Peter Parker might have been the best thing that ever happened to you.