Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own any of Marvel, Spider-Man or Disney. Please support official releases.

Gwen's eyes fluttered open as an escaping ray of light sneaked through her binds and into her eyes. She groaned bringing the covers up to shield her from the annoying and invading light. Gwen was many things. A little nerdy, blonde and struggled to talk to other people, but most importantly she was not a morning person. After a couple of minutes of groaning, whining and rolling around in her bed she begrudgingly threw her covers to the side.

Gwen's room was something that looked like a safety hazard. There were pieces of metal just lying around, science textbooks had been scattered around with clearly no form of organisation. It honestly looked like a hurricane had come in and torn her room asunder. Gwen sidestepped around her room as to not trip over the science textbooks and little mountains of used clothes. This place was a mess but Gwen would always procrastinate and her parents didn't want to clean her room as last time her mother was attacked by a rouge sweatshirt then tripped over one of Gwen's projects. Recently Gwen has stopped her recent invention of the automatic bicycle. Unfortunately, those already exist and are called motorbikes. Damn you Gottlein Daimler! That German idea stealer was only a century and a few years quicker.

Her only issue wasn't just the cruel issue of everything already been made but also because of recent revelations. Gwen looked at her smudgy stained mirror. In that smudgy mess, Gwen looked at herself, she was wearing her pink unicorn pajamas that if anyone found out about she would kill them. Painfully. But her choice of totally appropriate sleepwear that was completely wearable for any age was not her point. Gwen slightly lifted her shirt to show her abdomen. Now Gwen never thought of herself as anything even remotely close to athletic. Some might say she is completely unathletic. This is why suddenly when she woke up on the day since the spider bite at Oscorp rocking a six-pack and no longer needing glasses to see she was surprised. Explaining to her parents she suddenly got contacts out of nowhere and would no longer need glasses was a bit of a strange conversation.

Her body which was embarrassingly similar to Golem from Lord Of The Rings had now become an amazon Goddess built with lean muscles and her skin had never felt so... so not her. Her senses were heightened which was a surprisingly big change for the girl who got tired walking up the stairs at school. The most surprising change out of all though was her ability to stick to walls, her almost sixth sense when it came to danger and casually lifting her bed with one hand.

Ever since that spider bite at Oscorp she had become a superhuman. Thus her new project since her failure at the automatic bicycle. Project Ghost-Spider. Originally she was going to go with Spider-Woman but that was way too similar to the criminal Spider-Man. At least with Ghost-Spider people would think, 'huh, that's similar to Spider-Man,' and not 'Spider-Woman? I didn't know Spider-Man had a sister." Or at least that's what Gwen thought in her mind.

Ghost Spider also worked considering her suit. With all the random stuff laying around from her numerous weird inventions and projects it wasn't too weird to find a sewing kit. Using the sewing kit she made her own super-suit. It was white on the upper torso and above with her chest and below being black with white spider-like leg streaks on her back and hips. On her upper forearms and hood was pink with a blue webbing design. She hid her suit in a place she knew her parents would never check. Her Dungeons and Dragons box.

She was going to be a hero, like her Dad. Well, not exactly like her Dad. Her method of upholding the law was to break it. Slightly! She was still going to help people, just in a more stylish way. A hero way. She loved her Dad. She really did. Gwen doubted that her Dad would see it the same way she did, but, he also thought that dubstep was a type of footwear so he wasn't exactly caught up with current times.

Gwen had seen The Avengers and everyone knew what they could do. Fight alien threats, stop losing robots and lots and lots of infighting. Excluding the last thing, they were beloved heroes who in one afternoon saved millions. She wanted that. The fame, the love, she of course wanted to help people but a little praise wouldn't be missed. She was tired of being the nerd and being the hero. That would be a dream. A dream that was so tantalising close. She would be a hero like her father.

The only issue is she still didn't have web-shooters like the infamous Spider-Man. She could make her own, but making the web fluid was difficult and she couldn't make any web-shooters that fired far enough. No matter. Iron-Man wasn't made in one day. Or was he? No matter. Gwen would be a hero. She will be loved, she will make her father proud, she will save people and most importantly, she will be the Ghost-Spider.

MJ woke up from her own slumber. Despite only sleeping for what was probably four hours she felt amazing. She bounced up and down on her new bed. This wasn't her bed, this wasn't her room, it wasn't even near her house. After meeting Peter last night he had invited him to stay the night at his apartment. Well, the apartment wasn't really correct. It was more like a palace on a penthouse. Peter had offered for her to sleep in his room as long as she didn't touch anything.

MJ looked around his room. It was... not what she was expecting. MJ always thought of Peter as some lazy kid who happened to get good grades. Yet being in his room shattered that completely. Despite always wearing baggy clothing that looked like it was a few days away from becoming dust he had sheets that felt like they were made of angel wings. She cuddled up to her classmate's bed. It felt like the softest thing on Earth, she would figuratively kill someone for it. Maybe literally depending on the person.

Putting her face into the bed she took a deep breath in. Don't judge her she is a teenage girl, this was probably the closest she thing to a boyfriend she would ever have. As much as it pains her she left Peter's warm, comfy bed she might kill someone for and walked over to Peter's mirror. She was still wearing the baggy clothing she wore last night on the streets of New York. She looked and smelt like garbage, MJ brought a hand to the black eye she touched it.

She sucked on her teeth hissing from the sudden jolt of pain. Thankfully it was just Peter who saw her like this, she was just so pathetic right now. Peter wouldn't tell people at school about this, he barely talked at all. She would be safe her social standing was safe. She spent far too long with make-up, doing yoga and pretending to know sports for the other girls to think she was not worth shopping with or even worse, not worth gossiping with. She wouldn't be able to live without her popularity. She shuttered at the thought.

Enough on her though, the less she saw herself looking like a... well she was going to say a hot mess but there was nothing hot about her right now. She looked around Peter's room. It was surprisingly well-kept. It was large and everything looked clean. She half expected Peter's room to have littered pizza boxes and to be slightly on fire but to be honest she didn't really know the boy besides being friends with the rich nerd. Peter seemed to be a rich boy himself considering that his bed was made of clouds.

The only thing about the room that didn't look impeccable was the large metallic door that looked like it belonged to a bomb shelter in the closet. It had a high tech sort of panel that could have been an eye scanner, fingerprint scanner or with how high tech it looked maybe a breath scanner for all she knew. When she asked Peter why he had a bomb shelter in his closet he just responded 'cause who has a bomb shelter in their skin?'

A knock was heard at the door. Peter? Or was it possibly his mother or father? She certainly hoped not, that would be a pain to explain. She walked over to the door opening it to reveal a very shirtless Peter holding a towel out towards her.

"Woah."

"Excuse me?"

"I um, I am, so... uh. Why are you only wearing sweat pants?" She eyed him upside down slowly. Very slowly. His face looked as tired as normal with the familiar bags sitting beneath his eyes. Her eyes traced up looking at his wet damp hair. A shower? With his hair, all wet MJ thought that he looked quite attractive. Ew gross. Surely she didn't just think Peter looked h-h-ho- attractive. Oh good for a second MJ thought Peter Fisk of all people was hot. Damnit. It only got worse as MJ's eyes went down looking over his muscular chest. Please don't have steel abs. No! He does.

"Are you okay?" Peter asked noticing her lack of concentration.

"Yes handddddddddddd-" MJ was panicking, she almost just said handsome right to Peter's face. "-dy. Yes handy. Cause your such a handy guy." MJ wanted to go back and hide in his bed, anything would be better than this.

"Okay then? I was just wondering if you wanted to have a shower. No offence but I think when you walked past some of the lobby's pot plants they shrivelled up and died." He smiled brightly, ugh. Why was he of all people blessed with looks like that?

"Thank you, some offence taken." Peter just rolled her eyes handing her a towel.

"Sorry but I don't have any girl clothes, unfortunately. I have plenty of baggy hoodies and ripped jeans if you want. Don't worry only half of them were birthday presents from drug dealers." MJ raised an eyebrow at his joke, he was able to say it with such a straight face as well. Almost like he actually meant it.

"Thank you I would really appreciate that." She took the towel from his hand before Peter shrugged and motioned for her to follow. MJ walked through Peter's large penthouse apartment. What did his parents do for a living? Was his dad a celebrity? She didn't recall anyone famous with the last name Fisk.

She continued to walk through the apartment, she didn't get a good look at it last night too tired to care but it really was a nice place to live. Gorgeous view, lots of very large chairs and plenty of rich-looking furniture. Like the chairs were really really large. Like big enough for an elephant. Peter eventually took her to the luxury bathroom. MJ was too scared to touch anything for fear of breaking anything and costing her a kidney.

"Well, I'll just get a change of clothes for you, they'll be outside the door for you." With that Peter left much to the benefit of MJ's heart. She shut the door to the bathroom with a sigh. She didn't have her phone, wallet or any form of ID. Last night she was alone at night wondering New York at night bruised. She half thought that she would spend the night homeless until she ran into Peter outside Oscorp. It was so late that no one she knocked on the doors to would open up for her and she had no idea where her friends' lived with just memory.

Stripping down she went into the shower trying her best to ignore the purple marks on her body and trying to keep the hot stinging water away from her black eye. Turning the water off MJ stepped out of the steam wrapping the towel Peter offered her around her body after drying herself. Why did even the towels feel like being submerged in a pool of kittens?

Stepping out of the bathroom she saw Peter laying down on the couch now wearing a grey singlet with a pile of clothes sitting by his side. MJ was glad cause the last thing she needed was to call Peter handsome. If Liz ever found out she couldn't even look Peter in the eye then she would never hear the end of it. He was currently watching a youtube video on his massive TV trying to estimate which famous people would be worthy to lift Mjölnir.

"Pfft, obviously the Pope can't lift the hammer. Norse mythology is all about solving your issues with trickery and violence. What's the Pope going to do when the armies of the undead rise up to plunge the world into eternal darkness? Last time I checked there wasn't a scripture for that." Peter scoffed to himself.

"Peter?" MJ tried to draw his attention. Peter turned around to face MJ his eyes going wide at her towel-covered form. It took him a quick second but he blinked before returning back to a small smile that he rarely wore around the school if it wasn't his usual tired 'everything is dead to me' face. Peter reached over and grabbed the clothing next to him passing them to MJ.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He didn't even look at her and went immediately back to T.V. MJ could have sworn he grumbled something under his breathe complaining about girls, cats, and hormones. MJ quickly went back to the bathroom so she could change.

She walked back into the living room wearing his jeans and a large hoodie that was slightly larger than her. Peter wasn't exactly tall but his hoodie still went down to her thighs. MJ sat down near Peter watching T.V. She personally never was into superheroes that much. Well, everyone was into superheroes they were like celebrities but they didn't always have the best image. Heroes cause lots of property damage and anything that was new or promoted change would always be met with resistance.

MJ spent most of her time with Liz and her cheerleading squad and as stereotypical as it was they only really talked about the most attractive heroes. Her male friends like Flash would be really interested in heroes but besides him, other guys, much like the girls would just base them off their supermodel appearance. So generally the only conversations would be fuck, marry, kill the Avengers. The joys of teen life.

"I really do appreciate this Peter," MJ spoke softly, despite this Peter only raised a questionable brow as if what she said was some sort of manipulation.

"Don't worry about it. It's the least I could do, what was I supposed to do. Let you sleep on the street and let you get approached by a well dressed Italian gang who snaps their fingers while they surround you. You'd never survive a dance battle against those gentlemen." Despite acting so nonchalant it was a big deal, would have MJ done the same if their positions were reversed? Yeah, she would, she was a good person. Right?

"If you would like we can go shopping later. Buy you some clothes that don't reek of well... me," She didn't mind, she also couldn't afford any clothes right now.

"Ha ha ha," She fake laughed, "it's okay you don't have to do that for me. I'll be fine I swear."

Peter just looked at her. "Please I insist, not that it isn't great and all that your wearing my hoodie but I'd rather have clothes."

"I, can't really buy clothes I don't have any money on me." She said, her cheeks becoming redder. How embarrassing.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock. The last time I checked people walking around at three AM weren't exactly walking around with suitcases of cash. Relax it's on me."

"Really?"

"In case you haven't noticed I'm not exactly living it rough." He gestured to his apartment that MJ imagined would be rented out by royalty. "I can spare a few extra, what do you wear? I wanna say tube shirts?"

"Are you sure, I really-"

"Quit the victim act. If I am offering something that's because I'm okay with it. God, It's not a lung I'm giving you. Just yes or no?"

"Yes please."

"Finally."

"Is your parents okay with all this?"

"All this?"

"My Dad would kill me if I kept a boy over."

"Oh, that?" Peter leaned back on the couch. "Yeah, it's all good. My Dad has recently run into some... business complications. He won't be home for a few nights. Meeting with associates and whatnot."

"And your mother's okay with it?" Mary Jane was a little worried about asking, she herself was a child of divorce and knew a topic like this could bring up issues.

"Oh don't worry about that, I'm adopted."

"..."

"Nothing?"

"No sorry, I just don't know if you're fucking with me." Peter laughed at her response.

"No, It's true. You should see my Dad. Trust me, you'll see the difference. You can stay as long as you like."

MJ was shocked. Not because she found out Peter was adopted who was she to judge, but more so because Peter was being strangely nice to her. She didn't think he was nice to anyone, maybe just tolerable to Harry. Yet, the boy she's watched been bullied by her friends has offered her clothes, food and shelter. MJ actually felt a pang of guilt. Who knew the boy that spoke to know one was kind of amazing. Man Liz was going to be a little pissed at her for this.

"Hey, um. Liz is having a birthday I was wondering If you would like to join me? It's an open invite so it's cool if you come." Open invite? That was the first Peter heard of it. Escipacllay since Harry was so desperate to get in. He shrugged, Peter assumed it was open invite to the people who weren't considered losers by his grade.

"Yeah, no thanks I would rather hang by my tongue than ever, in one million years, ever go to Liz's stu- wait. Can I bring a plus one?"

Oh, Liz was definitely going to be pissed at her. "Yeah of course."

"Oh, Harry you sweater-wearing pain in the ass. You owe me one." Peter murmured to himself. "I would love to go." Peter got up from the couch. "I'm going to get changed so I don't look like a gym rat. We'll go to the mall afterwards to buy some food and clothes."

MJ watched Peter leave. She missed his company. He was, well. He was still kind of a drama queen but he was different. When she is with her friends she always tried to be a popular girl. It was different with Peter. It may sound cruel but she didn't care what Peter thought of her. She didn't care what she did around him cause his opinion of her wouldn't make her any less popular or make people think less of her. It was, refreshing. She could probably ask him for his phone and call Liz or someone for her to stay with them, but maybe staying with Peter for a bit longer would be fun. He's surprising hot, rich and she can act without constant pressure on every decision she makes. Plus it didn't hurt that his bed was made of angels. Yeah, she might stay just a little longer. As long as it wasn't her home. She never wanted to go back home.

Peter sat in the limo in silence with two grunts sitting on either side of him. It had been a long day, he'd taken MJ shopping, and had to move his Spider-Man suit out of his lab that was hidden in his closet to somewhere else so If he needed to be Spider-Man he wouldn't walk in on MJ who was apparently staying in his room. It's hard to be a criminal with a roommate.

Peter let out a sigh. Why did he even let her stay? The girl was walking around New York streets late at night looking like she ran face-first into a truck. Did she get mugged? She was at Oscorp without a taxi or anything so she must live in Fisk territory. His gang didn't really mug people they were more drug and weapon trade. Peter bit his lip, he couldn't have morons mugging people in their territory that would bring police attention. Shit, why couldn't those junkies just fuck off from Fisk turf, they probably didn't even know if they were just some two-bit thug.

He shouldn't have felt responsible but he did. If someone robbed MJ on Fisk turf then he had to do something. It wasn't his fault, so why did he feel so shit. He didn't even like MJ, she was an attention-seeking popular girl who will peak in high school. Worse, now he will have to go to this dumb party for Harry. He was so happy when Peter had told him they were invited. Ugh, if it wasn't for that stupid black eye. Peter may be a bad person but not even he could kick a hurt puppy, and that really all MJ was. No money, no phone and no home. The worst part is when he told his Dad he had a girl over for the night his Father was ecstatic saying that 'I never thought you would get a girlfriend that you didn't build,' or much to Peter's displeasure, 'use protection.' Ugh. Wilson Fisk was a murderer, drug dealer and the Kingpin. But he was also a cringy dad.

The lights of New York nightlife passed by through the limo's window, he was pretty tired, he wasn't exactly the most social butterfly in the world so spending a whole day shopping with MJ was a challenge. That girl could really talk if she wanted to. A lot. Peter took a deep breath in trying to clear his head. No thinking about personal life while on a job.

It took a couple of minutes but eventually, the limo pulled up at a nightclub called Minus. The door was opened for Peter by one of the suit-wearing grunts that had accompanied him in the limo. Peter himself was wearing an expensive bright white suit with a bright red tie holding a large briefcase. He hated it with every fibre of his being. He'd always preferred the darker blues and blacks over white suits but what he was wearing wasn't meant to look good. It was meant to draw attention. Like how models would wear some of the most stupid looking clothing but it was eye drawing and seemed important to anyone who just had a glancing look. The limo on the street drove away, New York traffic was already shitty enough without a limo taking up the road.

Peter looked at club Minus. It looked like your standard nightclub from the outside, with lots of people in a lineup that would take an actual hour outside and obnoxious music blaring through the speakers. Teens were supposed to love this kind of stuff but it was all the smells, the noise the lights that Peter disliked. Maybe it was Peter's enhanced senses or maybe he just wasn't a nightclub kind of guy.

Two grunts stood beside Peter acting as bodyguards. Not that he needed any but it was more for appearance. They were large and muscular their chest pushing against their black suits. Peter looked like a kid in ridiculous clothing who just got escorted out by two bouncers. Despite their massive size, they stood behind Peter following in his steps as they approached the front of the line much to the complaining and whining of the people in line. The bouncer looked at Peter and his two bodyguards as they approached the entry. The bouncer himself was large but not to the extreme like his bodyguards.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be here?" He asked unphased by Peter's ridiculous clothes and large grunts.

"I moisturise." Peter gave a small smirk to the bouncer. Clearly, the bouncer wasn't as impressed with Peter as he was. "I have a meeting with Mr Li," The bouncer just raised a brow. "I'm on the V.I.P list if you don't believe me." The bouncer didn't believe him, not even in the slightest but it was his job to look at a piece of paper and kick out the drunks who got too handsy. Giving the V.I.P list a look his eyes widened in surprise.

"My apologies, Mr Fisk, feel free to enjoy yourself." The Bouncer stood aside letting Peter and his two grunts enter. It was as awful as he imagined. Drunk recently twenty-one-year-olds and a bunch of kids slightly older than him who managed to sneak in with a fake ID jumping up and down spilling alcohol over themselves. The whole place reeked of vaping and alcoholic sweat. If one match was lit in here, Peter swears the whole place would go up in flames.

"Excuse me, Mr Fisk." Another worker came up to Peter. "Mr Li is expecting you in a private room."

The worker directed them through the nightclub, leading them upstairs to a private room. Thankfully the thumping sounds of dubstep had become dulled now at the private room which had two guards stationed outside. Peter and his guards followed him inside.

The smell of cheap vodka was replaced by the smell of incense. His father's room was classic mafia but this room was more casual rich drug dealer. The lights were alternating colours and the were two well-made leather couches were placed in the middle with a glass table in between. The walls were covered in traditional Asian weaponry and weird demon masks.

"Ah, Peter, it's been too long! How are you? How's school?" A well-built Chinese-American man sat on the couch his feet sat up on the glass table. He wore an expensive black suit and tie with a white button-up. Lucky, Peter was wearing this ridiculous polar bear suit. Peter took a seat on the couch opposite of him.

"Please, Mr Li, do we really need the small chat?"

"Parker, please. Call me Mr Negative." His eyes flashed with electric negative energy. Peter rolled his eyes. He named his club Minus of all things. Supervillains really had an issue with making everything connect with their name.

"Mr Negative," The man gave Peter a toothful smile. "Here is the sample." Peter placed his briefcase on the table next to Mr Negitive's finely polished leather shoes. Opening the case it was revealed to have several bags of white powder. Mr Negative took his feet off the table and snapped towards one of the men. The man took the suitcase off the table and swapped it with another.

"I'm sure you understand I'll have to analyse the sample. Not a matter of trust more so business. I know the Kingpin is a man of integrity."

"Don't worry I understand."

"Well, hopefully, this will keep you happy." Mr Negative opened the case that was swapped for the drug one. Peter saw several organised piles of cash. "Once the sample is examined, we can organise an exchange for the rest of the cash and cocaine."

Peter gave a nod to one of the grunts that accompanied him. The grunt walked over and grabbed the suitcase of money. Peter found the whole posturing a little dumb but it was necessary. Peter was the son of Kingpin and thus as one of the heads of Kingpin's empire required to act with a certain air of superiority. A boss demands respect and will command it and the grunts he was with understood that. Being sixteen made his professional life more difficult with even people who basically were just delivery men in the gang making fun of his age. They knew that it looked better though to listen to him during meetings. It would look worse for the gang to listen to the Kingpin's son than to be difficult in front of other gangs.

Peter was about to leave, all he had to do was deliver the same, collect the deposit and go. Before he could make a move Mr Negative spoke, "There is one issue though."

"Yes?"

"Well, I want you to tell your father that's I want to arrange a meeting to discuss future business." What? Where the hell did this come from.

"Is there an issue? I assure you that our product is clean without any cut corners."

"Well, that's just the issue," What? "You see Tombstone has been approaching me recently and he's able to sell to me for half the price you do." What the hell is that bastard Tombstone stealing their clients.

"Tombstone selling for half the price means that he's not selling drugs he's selling poison. Your better off drinking bleach than snorting his product. You want consumers or do you want corpses?"

"What I want is money."

"And you won't get any if everyone you sell to dies off the shitty product. Tombstone is a corpse from an already dying age, he has nothing to offer you." Peter placed his hands against the glass table. It wasn't a matter of losing a client but for more so losing to a rival gang.

"Perhaps," Mr Negative shrugged unphased by Peter. "But a little birdie has been telling me that Kingpin's gang has been throwing their weight around a bit too much. This old corpse seems to be not as dead as you thought it seems." Peter narrowed his eyes at the well-dressed criminal. He only seemed to smile more at Peter's anger.

"Mr Negative, I'm starting to worry where your loyalties lie."

"My loyalties lie with my best interest."

"Then it's within your best interest to know that throwing your lot with a guy literally named Tombstone. The Kingpin appreciates loyalty, are you really willing to throw that all away for a guy who is named after something that goes on top of dead people."

"The Kingpin appreciates servitude. I think you confuse the two."

"I think you're confused on who you're speaking with, maybe it's not the greatest idea to insult the son of the man you're talking about."

Mr Negative let out a hearty laugh which made Peter just want to punch his teeth in more. He could totally do it as well which was the annoying part. "Please Peter, I mean no offence. As I said before I serve myself, If Kingpin proves to be more beneficial than Tombstone then I will happily continue the business. I just wish to keep my options open, you know what they say about keeping all your eggs in one basket."

"You know what they say about if you serve too many masters, you'll soon suffer."

"Odyssey. Nice, you're a bright boy Peter. I would love to have the engineer of Spider-Man and Prowler on my side." Mr Negative gave him a look, his eye subconsciously shined with negative energy again. Peter glared at Mr Negative, he had no interest in being one of his negative slaves.

"Good day Mr Negative. I'll be sure to tell Kingpin... about everything," he said harshly. Peter stood up and clicked his fingers alerting his guards.

Before Peter could storm out Mr Negative called out to him. "Have a good day Peter. Remember to stay positive!"

I was a little unsure whether to go with Spider-Woman or Ghost-Spider as Spider-Gwen goes by both, but I can't use Spider-Gwen for obvious reasons. I chose Ghost-Spider as personally, I prefer it. Simple. It was a fairly tame chapter writing as MJ was interesting. Hope you enjoyed the chapter.