Hobgoblin

A solitary droplet of dew gracefully trickled down the frost-kissed windowpane of Peter's cozy apartment...

...and as the gentle morning light gently pierced through the curtains, Gwen's drowsy eyes slowly fluttered open.

The familiar warmth of the sun's golden rays caressed her face, coaxing her into full wakefulness.

Suddenly, a deep crimson hue washed over her cheeks as she became acutely aware of her position—perched delicately atop Peter's form.

"Peter?" she murmured, her voice barely audible in the quiet room. The memories of the previous night swirled in her mind, a blurry haze that refused to fully solidify.

Besides the stark reality of her father's hospitalization, the details beyond were lost in a fog of confusion.

'I think I can barely recall a weird person with an androgynous voice behind a vendetta mask... he killed the lizard... or did I dream about it?'

Confused, she looked at the person in whose arms she was for answers. The person in question smiled at her.

"Good morning sleeping beauty, I thought I would have to kiss you to finally get your ass off of me."

For a slight moment, Gwen turned red, recalling her sarcastic reply the day before when she was called a 'bitch'.

Tucking a hair behind her ear, she suddenly hugged Peter... overwhelmed by the depth of the feelings she experienced when her life hung on a thread, remembering then when her thoughts at that moment had been solely consumed by one person.

Slightly taken aback by Gwen's sudden action, Peter's eyebrows rose involuntarily before he reciprocated the embrace, a mix of emotions flickering in his eyes.

As her grip on him tightened, a trace of tears welled up in Gwen's eyes, escaping down her cheeks. However, amidst the rush of overwhelming emotions, her grip inadvertently tightened.

Unbeknownst to her, her runny nose transferred a small amount of her tears and mucus onto Peter's clothes.

With a gentle, wry smile, Peter soothingly rubbed Gwen's back. Allowing her head to rest on his shoulder, he leaned in closer.

"There... there... feeling better now?"

Amidst her tears, a faint, almost fragile, laugh escaped Gwen's lips. She gingerly took a step back from the embrace, her reddened nose and slightly swollen eyes bearing witness to her recent tears.

"Ugh... I ruined your hoodie,"

Surprising Gwen with his sudden action, Peter swiftly lifted her off him, effortlessly cradling her in his arms like a toddler, before playfully tossing her to the other side.

The unexpected movement elicited a gasp of surprise from Gwen as she found herself momentarily suspended in the air.

In one fluid motion, Peter swiftly removed his hoodie, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes. With a playful grin, he expertly aimed and tossed the hoodie into a nearby bin, as if he were effortlessly shooting a basketball into a hoop.

"I didn't know you are into BDSM, Gummy Bear. If you didn't hug me that tight, I would have never about this passion of yours."

As Gwen processed Peter's remark, a mixture of surprise danced across her face. His lighthearted comment brought a playful blush to her cheeks.

"Hey now," she teased in response, "I didn't know you were into analyzing hug techniques, Mr. Parker. Guess we both learned something new today."

Peter winked at her as he swayed his hips to the counter, looking for a few eggs to fry. For a change, it was Gwen whose gaze lingered on Peter's booty.

She eased into the cozy embrace of the couch, and a gentle wave of relaxation washed over her. She pondered, the question lingering persistently in her mind.

'How did I get home last night?'

As her thoughts swirled and tangled like a web, a hint of pale washed over Gwen's face, betraying the unease that welled up within her.

"Did Mr. Cringebouros drop me?" she wondered aloud.

The mere thought of such a scenario sent ripples of worry through her. If it were true, it would imply that the mysterious figure now held knowledge of her secret identity.

A soft sigh escaped Gwen's lips, seeking solace in the presence of Peter, she turned her attention towards him, her gaze carefully assessing his features.

As her eyes traced his back, a faint crease formed between her eyebrows, signaling her growing concern.

There was an undeniable change in him, something subtle yet perceptible that pricked at her intuition.

'Did he grow another half a centimeter? His skin... looks rather different than usual... it looks very red...'

As she observed him further, Gwen couldn't help but stare at Peter's exposed back, where a series of red patches adorned his skin.

The marks bore an uncanny resemblance to the aftermath of a burn injury, as if he had been subjected to flames weeks ago, and the wounds were still in the process of healing.

'Did Ned do this...?'

Familiar growing darkness flickered on her features as she thought of it.

~

In the confines of a dimly lit laboratory, the air was heavy with an eerie stillness, intermittent green lights cast flickering shadows across the room.

The environment exuded an atmosphere of secrecy and intrigue, as if harboring clandestine activities.

Amidst the ominous ambiance, a solitary figure- a fatfuck, remained tightly secured to a menacing machine.

*Click!*

A faint, low sound reverberated through the air—the distinct snap of a strap breaking.

Behind the safety of a huge glass sheath, three scientists stood in close proximity, their eyes fixed intently on the boy, their gazes revealing a mixture of curiosity, anticipation, and perhaps a hint of trepidation.

"Are his vitals clear?"

"Positive."

"Then why is he not waking? Huh... wait..."

A collective gaze fixated upon the boy lying on the metallic bed, the trio of scientists observed with rapt attention as an otherworldly phenomenon unfolded before their very eyes.

As if emerging from his very pores, white wisps of smoke gracefully billowed from the surface of the boy's skin, resembling water vapors mingling with the air.

The sight left the scientists awestruck, their minds racing to comprehend the inexplicable transformation.

Before them, the once plump figure strapped to the bed underwent a remarkable metamorphosis. The excess layers of fat seemed to dissolve into thin air, vanishing without a trace, while beneath, tightly packed muscles emerged, revealing a newfound definition and strength.

Slowly the entire skin began to turn into a pale yellow, the body convulsed a few times and then ultimately stopped.

The transformation continued its course and a change began to manifest in the boy's complexion, gradually, his skin assumed a pale yellow hue.

However, as the metamorphosis reached its climax, the boy's body convulsed, spasms rippling through his frame.

The movements suddenly ceased altogether and silence descended upon the lab, accompanied by a palpable air of anticipation, as the scientists stood frozen.

The weight of disappointment settled upon the trio of scientists, their faces contorted with furrowed brows, mirroring the shared sense of frustration.

One scientist, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation, voiced their collective concern.

"Did the trial fail?"

In response, another scientist quickly adjusted his spectacles and turned his attention to the computer screen, his eyes scanning the data with a mix of concern and analytical scrutiny. With a somber tone, he delivered the disheartening news. "His heart has stopped."

A heavy sigh escaped the lips of the remaining scientist, a sound laced with disappointment but tempered by a glimmer of acceptance.

"So it failed... at least there was more progress this time."

Turning around he asked the other scientists with an eyebrow raise.

"Which one of us will inform Mr Osborn? It's not going to be me, I did it last ti-

—

A/N: 3k- 1 bonus.