The rise of the White Widow

"Well, would you look at that! The boy finally grew some balls!"

Peter looks stunned, his eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh," he says, his voice quiet.

I can sense the tension between us, and I feel guilty for leading him on.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression," I say, feeling awkward.

Peter shakes his head, his expression sad.

"No, it's okay. I shouldn't have assumed," he says, his voice tinged with regret.

We stand there for a moment, the silence between us heavy with unspoken emotions. Finally, I break the silence.

"I should probably go back inside," I say, my voice soft.

Peter nods, his eyes downcast. "Yeah, I understand. I'll see you later," he says, his voice resigned.

I turn and make my way back down the stairs, my thoughts consumed with guilt and confusion. As I re-enter the party, I try to shake off the awkward encounter with Peter.

As I stand there, lost in my thoughts, Nat notices the bewildered look on my face and decides to approach me.

"Hey darling, are you alright?" she asks gently, her eyes filled with concern.

"Umm, yeah," I mumble, still processing what just happened as I absentmindedly scratch my head. "Did you know that Peter has a crush on me?"

A knowing smirk appears on Nat's face, "Yeah, actually. I thought you knew too"

I shake my head slowly. "No, I didn't have a clue. He just kissed me out of nowhere," I explain hesitantly.

"Don't get me wrong, he's a really nice guy and all, but I don't feel the same way about him. To be honest, I see him more as a friend than a potential boyfriend" (Your just hella gay that's what's up)

Nat nods understandingly as I sigh heavily. "I think I've really broken his heart," I admit, feeling a pang of guilt.

She gives my shoulders a reassuring squeeze and says, "Don't worry about him for now. Just focus on enjoying the party"

Taking her advice, I let myself get swept up into the lively atmosphere of the gathering, smiling as I mingle with several members of the Avengers team. As the night unfolds, it proves to be genuinely fun and memorable.

Finally, as the party winds down and most of the guests have left, a smaller group of us remain, including the Avengers. We settle into a cozy circle in one corner of the room, sharing stories and laughter. However, I can't help but notice that Peter still hasn't made an appearance.

"Has anyone seen Peter?" Stark asks with a hint of concern in his voice.

Sharing a meaningful glance with Nat, I see Tony's gaze sharply shift to us as he raises one eyebrow curiously, "What's going on?"

With a slight hesitancy in my voice, I quietly speak up, "Well, Peter's probably feeling a bit heartbroken right now"

An almost amused expression crosses Stark's face as he looks at me intently. "What exactly did you do?"

Groaning internally at his directness, I hesitantly explain, "He... um... kissed me earlier tonight. But I had to let him know that I don't like him that way."

The fear that Tony might be upset with me for rejecting his son lingers at the back of my mind as I await his reaction.

He throws back his head and begins to laugh, "Well, would you look at that! The boy finally grew some balls!"

I nervously play with my fingers and muster the courage to ask, "So, you're not going to scold me for rejecting him?" I stammer, fearing his disapproval.

Stark shakes his head in amusement, "Why on earth would I do that?"

"Nevermind," I mumble, relieved by his response but still feeling awkward about the whole situation.

Stark opens his mouth as if he's about to push further into the conversation when Peter unexpectedly walks in. From the corner of my eye, I notice that he's been crying. We make brief eye contact before I quickly look away.

"I'm going to bed," Peter mumbles quietly before walking out of the room, leaving an uncomfortable silence behind him.

Stark smirks and tries to lighten the mood, "Jeepers kid, he must have had a really big crush on you!"

I let out a nervous laugh and respond hesitantly, "Yeah...I guess he did."

My mind races as I process everything that just happened.

I take a slow, deliberate sip of my drink, feeling the sharp burn as it slides down my throat. The warmth of the alcohol spreads through my body, sending a shiver down my spine. The dimly lit room vibrates with chatter and laughter from friends gathered after a long week.

Steve glances over at me with raised eyebrows, concern etched across his face. "How much have you had to drink?" he asks, unable to hide his curiosity.

I tilt my head thoughtfully, my eyes scanning the small collection of empty glasses around me. "Lost count," I reply nonchalantly, shaking off his worry with a smirk.

The disbelief is clear in Nat's voice as she turns to join our conversation. "How are you not completely wasted by now?" she asks, thoroughly amused by my apparent immunity to intoxication.

With a playful wink and sly smile, I respond, "Magic," before lifting the glass to my lips once more.

Clint's amusement quickly turns to concern as he asks the question that has been lingering in the back of everyone's minds. "Wait a minute... How old are you? Should you even be drinking?"

My laughter fills the air, echoing off the walls as I proudly exclaim, "Im seventeeeeeeennnn! But hey, I can hold my liquor just as well as any of you, so where's the problem?" And with that triumphant declaration, I take another hearty gulp from my glass before nudging Nat with an elbow and continuing to engage in our lighthearted banter.