**Earth-199999**
As the echoes of Tony's brutal assault faded into silence, Peter slowly released the others from his telekinetic hold. Invisible bindings lifted, and the tension that had frozen the Avengers dissolved like smoke.
Steve was the first to move, immediately rushing to Bucky's side. His expression darkened at the sight of his friend, bruised and bloodied, laying motionless on the cold floor.
"He's breathing," Steve muttered, placing two fingers to Bucky's neck. "But barely."
Turning sharply toward Peter, his eyes full of restrained fury, Steve demanded, "Why did you do that? You could've stopped it."
Peter didn't flinch. His voice was calm, almost detached, "I didn't beat him half to death, Steve. Tony did. If you've got a problem, maybe take it up with him."
Steve scowled, but before he could speak again, Peter extended a hand toward Bucky.
A soft blue glow enveloped the fallen soldier, flowing into his body like warm waves. The blood faded. The bruises healed. The shredded skin on his face knit back together, and even his severed vibranium arm reformed, whole and stronger than before.
Peter stood back. "There. Good as new."
He turned, addressing the whole group now. "Tony needed that. He's been holding it in for years. He found the man who killed his parents—and the guy who helped him do it. Letting that anger eat him from the inside would've done more damage than a few punches."
Wanda and Pietro both turned toward Tony with their eyes narrowing.
Tony sighed before lifting the faceplate of his helmet with a weary expression. "Kids, I think we're past that point already."
Pietro scoffed, while Wanda crossed her arms, not entirely convinced.
Peter grinned and nudged Wanda gently. "Now, for the main event."
With a flick of his wrist, a blue shimmer pulsed through the air—and suddenly, Zemo materialized in front of them, lifted by Peter's telekinesis and slammed hard against the metallic floor.
"AGH!" Zemo cried out in pain, writhing slightly as Peter held him in place like a pinned insect.
"You think this is the end?" Zemo hissed through clenched teeth. "I know I can't defeat you… but as long as I breathe, I'll never stop trying to destroy you."
T'Challa stepped forward with his voice calm and heavy with meaning. "Vengeance has consumed you. It nearly consumed me too… but no more. I'm done letting it dictate my path."
Peter crouched beside Zemo, placing a single hand against his head. "Since you miss your family so much," he said softly, "I'll let you be with them."
Zemo's eyes widened in panic, but before he could speak, his eyes turned a glowing, ghostly white. His body went slack.
A hush fell over the group.
Natasha's hand went to her weapon. "Peter… what did you just do? Did you—kill him?"
Sam crouched beside Zemo and checked for a pulse. "He's still breathing. But his eyes…" He looked up, unsettled. "They're glowing white."
Rhodey frowned. "What the hell did you do to him?"
Peter stood while dusting his hands. "I gave him what he wanted—a chance to save his family. He's stuck in a dream, a loop. If he can rescue them, he'll live with them and die in peace inside the dream. If not… the dream starts over. Again and again."
Steve's face darkened. "Until when?"
Peter looked at him and smirked. "Until I say otherwise."
Steve stepped forward, "Peter, that's too much. You can't play god—"
Peter tilted his head with his eyes glowing faintly as he stepped forward. "I am a being very close to god, Steve. But that's not why I did it."
Everyone turned to face him now, the weight of those words hanging in the air.
Peter continued, "This isn't about power or ego. This is about consequences. Zemo thought he could use Wanda, humiliate her, target her. He tried to break her... and that was his mistake."
Peter's gaze turned cold as he continued, "It was funny. No one said that when he manipulated you all… or when he used the media to make Wanda a scapegoat after Lagos." His eyes swept the room. "He tried to touch my girl. That's not a mistake you survive."
Turning back to the team, he spoke firmly. "Tony got to release his stress on Bucky. Zemo gets to live in the world he destroyed—a dream that may become a prison. Seems fair to me."
Wanda's cheeks turned crimson as every eye suddenly shifted toward her. Pietro let out a long, low whistle. The others—all shocked—decided silently that maybe it was best not to cross her again.
Wanda turned and flustered. "Peter… when did I become 'yours'?"
Peter blinked. "Wait—didn't you like me? I thought we had a thing. All that flirting, the glances—I assumed it was mutual." His face dropped. "Don't tell me you were just playing me."
Her eyes narrowed, and she marched toward him, grabbed him by the collar, and yanked him down into a deep, fierce kiss.
The entire room went silent.
Everyone—including Peter—froze.
Peter's eyes went wide in shock, his hands hovering in the air, unsure of what to do.
She pulled away with a smirk on her face. "Now I'm yours. And you're mine."
There was a long silence.
Pietro burst out laughing, "Took you long enough, sis."
Sam coughed awkwardly. Clint raised an eyebrow. Steve looked like he was questioning his life choices. Natasha gave Wanda a slow, impressed nod.
Tony groaned. "Well, that's just great. This is why I don't let teenagers date infront of me. Now we've got to deal with relationship drama on top of world-ending threats."
Vision, standing at the edge of the group, sighed softly. "I sincerely hope this all ends well…"
Everyone chuckled nervously.
But as the laughter faded, they all glanced at Zemo's unconscious form…
------
After the intense confrontation with Zemo, the Avengers returned home. But while most tried to process everything quietly, Peter was already several steps ahead.
Using his telepathy and masterful manipulation of information, Peter carefully rewrote the narrative surrounding the Civil War. Every piece of blame—both legitimate and fabricated—was placed squarely on Zemo's shoulders. Not just the spark that started the war, but every flame that followed it.
He didn't stand before cameras or speak at any podiums. Instead, Peter worked quietly behind the scenes, a ghost in the information network. Through telepathy and subtle manipulations, he began to shape public perception on a massive scale.
Every ounce of blame for the Avengers' conflict—both real and exaggerated—was pinned on Helmut Zemo. He was labeled the architect of the Civil War, the master manipulator who pushed heroes into turning on each other.
He didn't stop there. Peter subtly influenced public opinion with implanted thoughts—just nudges, nothing overwhelming.
But enough to make people begin to question the Accords and the integrity of those enforcing them. Raphael took care of the rest, spinning everything into a compelling public narrative.
Suddenly, many high-ranking politicians found themselves stripped of their position—or worse, under investigation.
Support for the Avengers skyrocketed. Protesters marched in front of government buildings, demanding justice, not for the superheroes—but from the politicians.
With a series of carefully placed thoughts and media nudges, Peter redirected the world's attention. Protesters flooded the streets with signs reading "No More Accords" and "Accountability Starts at the Top." Politicians scrambled as their secrets were exposed—some resigned, others were arrested, and the rest buried their heads in damage control.
The narrative of reckless superheroes was overturned. Now, the Avengers were seen as victims of political games—and heroes who still stood when the system tried to tear them down.
Across the globe, news outlets shifted their tone.
On GNN, the host spoke with subtle awe, "It's been confirmed: Zemo was responsible for not only the destruction of the Siberian facility but the psychological manipulation that tore the Avengers apart. But now, with new classified files exposed—thanks to anonymous leaks—we see just how deeply rooted the corruption was."
In a televised debate on Nightline News, two political commentators argued fiercely.
"He exposed our lies, our backdoor deals. That's not terrorism—it's truth!" one panelist declared.
"Truth obtained by violating mental privacy and hacking international systems!" the other countered. "Are we going to ignore that someone has the power to control minds?"
"They're heroes!" a third voice interjected. "They don't owe us perfection—they owe us protection. And they still gave it."
Public opinion was erupting—in cafes, online, in the streets.
A woman holding a "Justice for Wanda" sign outside a courthouse told a news reporter, "They painted her as a monster when she was grieving. They tried to use her as a scapegoat. No more. Not again."
A teenager on a YouTube vlog stated, "I used to believe the news. But now? I believe in the Avengers."
Even celebrities, athletes, and activists joined the movement. Hashtags like #AvengersUnited and #FreeHeroes trended worldwide.
And then, during a quiet afternoon interview on a small local channel, a reporter stood next to an elderly man with neatly combed gray hair, a charming smile, and dark sunglasses.
The screen's lower-third read: Mr. Lee –Screenwriter and Author.
The reporter asked, "Mr. Lee, after everything that has happened… where do you stand on the Avengers?"
Mr. Lee leaned toward the mic with his voice warm and strong despite age. "I may be old, but I've seen real heroes. Men and women who bled to protect people they'd never even met. The Avengers? They do it every day. Not for fame, not for power—but because it's right. We owe them—not the other way around."
He adjusted his glasses, looking directly into the camera."With great power comes great responsibility," he said. "And I trust these kids to handle it."
He paused before continuing, "If the world still doubts them, then maybe the world needs saving too."
The clip went viral within minutes. Millions of views. Millions of hearts softened.
Despite government attempts to control the situation, Peter's media firestorm raged on for days, smothering opposition before it could gather steam.
---
Meanwhile, Peter enjoyed his growing relationship with Wanda. They spent more time together, sharing kisses, teasing each other, and relaxing in ways they hadn't been able to for a long time.
The Avengers, though still united, agreed to take a break.
The rest of the Avengers took breaks. Natasha found her way to Bruce Banner for a much-needed pause. Sam, Steve and Bucky decided to travel.
---
One night, Peter and Wanda lay in Peter's room. Soft music played in the background, her head on his chest, his fingers running through her hair as they shared long kisses.
Just as their hands began to explore deeper territory, the door burst open with a loud crack. A glowing blonde woman stepped into the room like a missile. "Peter Parker," Carol Danvers announced, "We need to talk."
Peter blinked before pulled back from Wanda, and let out a groan. "Seriously? You couldn't knock? Little busy, in case the ambiance wasn't clear."
Carol didn't back down. "This is more important than whatever this is," she said, eyeing Wanda with suspicion.
Wanda sat up with her eyes already glowing red. "Peter, let me handle her."
Peter smirked. "By all means. She just interrupted our alone time. That's on her."
Wanda stood up slowly, her presence intense and unflinching. "You picked a really bad time," she warned, her voice low. A crimson aura surrounded her, bending the light around them, warping the air like reality itself was pulsing with her emotion.
Carol narrowed her eyes. "You're being manipulated. He's—"
"Wrong answer," Wanda cut her off sharply.
Peter leaned back against the headboard, arms behind his head, watching like someone settling in for a good movie. "You know," he muttered to himself with a grin, "I was hoping for something entertaining tonight. Looks like I got it."
As the room heated with Wanda's rising energy and Carol powered up with glowing fists, tension exploded like thunderclouds before a storm.
---
**Earth-66**
Inside the towering glass heart of Parker Industries, sunlight poured in through the windows as the city buzzed below. On the top floor, behind polished walls and cutting-edge tech, the CEO was… busy.
Peter leaned back in his custom leather chair, head nestled comfortably on the shoulder of the woman straddling his lap—Felicia Hardy, the infamous Black Cat. She held a digital report in one hand with her fingers tapping through Parker Industries' quarterly profits.
"And that wraps up the Asia deal," Felicia said, "If we continue like this, the projections for next quarter—ah…"
She shivered slightly before glancing down at Peter's hand tracing slow, dangerous circles on her thigh, drifting a little too high beneath her short black skirt.
"Don't go anywhere with that hand, Mister," she warned with her voice breathless but teasing.
Peter smirked. "I think we both know… it's gonna be fine."
Felicia narrowed her eyes while smiling. "You're such a womanizer. Seducing other girls while already having a girlfriend? Naughty Spider."
He chuckled lowly, lips near her ear. "Correction. I have three girlfriends now. And I think… I can handle a few more." His voice dipped even lower. "All of them. At once. And still keep going."
Felicia blinked as heat blooming across her cheeks. "You're such a flirt, Parker." With a mischievous grin, she leaned in and kissed him, slow and firm. When she pulled back, her eyes sparkled. "So what do you say, Spidey? You wanna be eaten by a cat today?"
Peter grinned wide. In one swift motion, he flipped her to straddle him face-to-face with his hands gripping her waist.
"No," he whispered with lips brushing hers. "I'm gonna be the one eating you, kitty… for being naughty."
Before anything else could escalate, the office door clicked open.
"Ugh. Another one?" Gwen Stacy stepped inside, arms crossed and eyebrow raised as she looked at the intimate scene.
Felicia froze mid-flirt, but Peter didn't even flinch. He held Felicia in place with one hand and casually looked over.
"I came to remind you," Gwen continued with a sigh. "You are supposed to visit Harry's place today. It's time."
Peter leaned forward before giving Felicia a deep kiss, and smiled against her lips. "Sorry, kitty. Maybe next time… I'll finish what I started."
He set her gently on the desk in front of him. Then, with a swirl of glowing blue smoke, he vanished from the room.
Felicia exhaled, adjusting her skirt, then looked over at Gwen, who hadn't moved, "You got something to say?" Felicia asked dryly.
Gwen simply smirked. "Yeah. We should talk."
...
AN: I'm back. Don't worry, I'll update this more once my other fanfic got more than 50 chapters.
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