A month had passed since that unforgettable spectacle, and you and Spider-Man had grown closer than ever, the bond between you both now unshakable. It wasn't just Spider-Man, though; Harry Osborn had quickly become one of your closest friends too, making sure you were never really alone. The trio of you made a great team, whether it was working together on projects, hanging out, or simply dealing with life's curveballs.

Your days had taken an unexpected but fulfilling turn. Stark Industries had offered you a position as a consultant, a role you found surprisingly enjoyable. The work was intense, dealing with cutting-edge technology and projects that ranged from weapons development to clean energy solutions. It was the perfect fit for you and your symbiote, both of you thriving in an environment that challenged your intellect and creativity.

As you sat in your office, sipping on a warm cup of tea, your mind was focused on the latest report for Stark Industries. You were in the midst of reviewing the newest tech developments when the familiar sound of a window creaking open broke your concentration.

"Spidey," you said, looking up with a grin as Spider-Man swung in through the window. He landed effortlessly on the floor, striking a pose as he did. "Why are you here?" You took a casual sip of your tea, intrigued by his sudden appearance.

Spider-Man paused for a moment, his head tilting slightly, and then flashed you one of his signature, cheeky grins. "Why are you at Stark Industries?" he asked, his tone full of playful curiosity. "Don't tell me you work for Mr. Stark now."

You chuckled, setting your tea down on the desk and leaning back in your chair. "I do," you replied with a smirk, crossing your arms as you gave him an exaggerated look of mock surprise. "I guess you could say I'm officially part of the Stark team. What's it to you, Spidey?"

Spider-Man's eyes seemed to light up behind the mask, and you could practically feel his excitement radiating. "Stark Industries? That's awesome! So, what's the deal? Are you designing the next generation of web-shooters? Or maybe some high-tech gadgets to help me fight crime?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of admiration and humor.

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "If I were designing anything for you, Spidey, it would be a few gadgets to make your life easier, trust me," you teased. "But no, I'm just working on a few consultancy projects for Stark. You know, the usual stuff—keeping the tech in line, making sure everything's safe and stable."

Spider-Man's eyes narrowed in mock suspicion. "And you're telling me you're not building any crazy inventions with that symbiote of yours?" he asked, half-serious, half-joking.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk. "Well," you began, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment, "I might have helped Stark brainstorm some ideas for future projects. Maybe I even threw in a few improvements of my own. But nothing too dangerous, I promise."

Spider-Man raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Improvements? Now, that sounds interesting." He stepped closer, as if he were about to dive into a long conversation about tech and gadgets.

Before you could respond, though, a beeping sound came from your desk, and you quickly glanced at the screen. "Hold that thought," you said, tapping away at the keys to open the incoming message. It was from Tony Stark himself.

"Looks like I'm being summoned," you said with a sigh, eyes scanning the message. "Something about a new project I need to oversee. I'll be busy for a while."

Spider-Man gave you a dramatic sigh of his own. "Always the busy one," he teased, giving you a mock pout. "Alright, alright, I guess I'll let you get back to saving the world with Stark's tech and being all cool and mysterious."

You couldn't help but laugh. "That's the plan. But if you need help with anything—crime-fighting-related or otherwise—don't hesitate to reach out." You shot him a wink.

Spider-Man gave you a thumbs up. "You got it. Just try not to get too caught up in all those high-tech gadgets. We wouldn't want you to turn into a walking, talking Stark Industries prototype, right?"

You chuckled, watching as he turned to leave. "No promises, Spidey," you called after him. "No promises."

As Spider-Man swung out of the window, you couldn't help but smile, feeling a sense of satisfaction in your life at the moment. You were balancing work, friends, and, of course, the occasional superhero escapade. Life had a way of throwing curveballs at you, but for now, you were right where you needed to be.

SCENE BREAK

The door to Tony Stark's office creaked open, and you entered, the faint hum of machinery from Stark Industries mingling with the quiet tension in the air. As you stepped forward, you saw Tony, relaxed yet alert, swaying slightly in his chair. It was the kind of posture that could be interpreted as carefree, but those who knew Stark—truly knew him—understood that beneath the flippant ease, his mind was always working, always calculating. The polished steel of his desk caught the sunlight streaming through the tall windows, casting reflections of modernity and precision, much like the man himself.

He turned in his chair, meeting your gaze with that characteristic smirk of his, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Ah yes, Ms. L/N," he said, the casualness of his tone at odds with the weight of his next words. "I did." There was a brief pause as his fingers drummed lightly against the armrest of his chair, a rhythm that seemed to match the beat of your suddenly quickened heart. "I've gone through your reports," he continued, leaning forward slightly as if to emphasize his point, "and I have to say—you're doing an incredible job."

For a moment, the world seemed to slow. Stark was not one to easily praise—his standards were nothing short of perfection, and this was the first time you'd heard him speak so highly of your work. It was a strange sort of validation, one you hadn't fully anticipated, but as you stood there, still processing, you realized just how much this meant. Your mind raced through the hours spent toiling over the details of each report, the careful analysis, the late nights—yet here you were, acknowledged.

He stood, a fluid motion that betrayed his effortless grace, and with a flick of his wrist, he handed you a stack of papers. The weight of them in your hands felt heavier than their physical mass. "Here," he said, voice steady, but the edge of something more behind it, something expectant. "I want you to move up a station."

Your pulse quickened as his words sank in. The offer was nothing short of monumental. You had worked hard, yes—but this was Tony Stark offering you something far beyond a simple promotion. This was a chance to step into his world, to work alongside a man who changed the very fabric of reality with his inventions, who shaped the future with his vision.

"You may work as my assistant now, if you'd like," he added, his voice laced with something you couldn't quite place. Was it challenge? Was it trust? Or simply an unspoken acknowledgment that you were ready for the next step?

You looked down at the papers in your hands, your fingers brushing the edges of the documents. The moment felt suspended, as though time itself had taken a breath, holding the world at bay for you to decide. Your thoughts swirled—what would it mean to take this next step? How would your life change now that you stood before Stark, the brilliant, complicated genius who had built an empire from nothing?

Your breath came steadily, but your mind had already made the choice. The future was calling, and it wasn't something you could walk away from.

With a deliberate glance back at Tony, you met his gaze once more, the fire of possibility igniting within you. The decision was made. "I'd like that," you said softly, a quiet confidence settling in your chest.

Tony's smirk deepened, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. The game had shifted, and you were in.