[Third Person POV]
Peter soon cleared his throat, trying to get everyone's attention and bring the conversation back on track. He gave a small smile and said, "So… shall we explore the upstairs?"
The question was clearly rhetorical, because he didn't wait for a response before turning on his heel and starting toward the stairwell. The others exchanged amused looks but followed along quietly, their footsteps echoing softly as they made their way up toward the second floor.
"This floor," Peter began, gesturing toward the hallway, "is mostly where all the meetings are held and where the personal offices are located. Nothing too exciting, but it's important."
He stopped at the first door in front of them, resting his hand on the knob before glancing back at Aunt May with a warm grin. "By the way, this one's yours—your own personal office. The reason it's not heavily decorated yet is because I wanted to leave that part to you."
Aunt May gasped, one hand flying to her chest. "My own personal office… I—oh my, I don't even know what to say. I've never had one before!"
The others chuckled at her enthusiasm as she stepped into the room, taking in the neatly arranged desk, the soft carpet, and the computer waiting for her. The walls were still bare, but the potential made her eyes light up.
"Oh, this is just lovely," she murmured, walking up to the burgundy desk. Her gaze landed on the shiny nameplate sitting neatly in front of the keyboard. She froze for a moment before carefully picking it up and reading it aloud in disbelief. "The nameplate says… Aunt May?"
Peter tilted his head, genuinely confused. "Yeah, of course it does. That's your name, isn't it?"
Aunt May gave him a funny look. "Well, yes, my name is May—but it's not Aunt May. The 'Aunt' part is just what you call me, Peter."
Peter shrugged, crossing his arms with a grin. "I mean… I've never called you anything else. It's basically part of your name at this point. Anything else would just sound wrong."
"Pete's got a point," Harry chimed in with a nod, crossing his arms in agreement. "You've always been Aunt May. Whenever we talked about you growing up, it was always 'Aunt May this' or 'Aunt May that.' I don't think any of us have ever heard you called anything else."
Gwen and MJ nodded in sync, mimicking Harry's stance with mock seriousness.
"To call you just May feels weird—almost disrespectful," Gwen said with an amused grin. "You've been 'Aunt May' to all of us since, well, forever."
"I mean," MJ added with a small snicker, "you're basically everyone's aunt at this point. You're more of an aunt than any of our actual aunts."
Aunt May let out a laugh and covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes misting slightly. "Oh, you kids sure know how to bring an old woman to tears." She sniffed and threw out her arms dramatically. "Now come here, all of you!"
Before anyone could protest, she pulled them all into a massive group hug. They'd completely forgotten about Aunt May's super-soldier strength until it was too late—she wrapped them all up with surprising force, nearly lifting half the group off their feet.
Lizzy and Felicia stood a few steps back, giggling at the sight of the tangled, squished group of heroes trapped in Aunt May's motherly embrace.
"What are you two staring at?" Aunt May called, catching sight of them with a playful glare. "You're part of this family too! Get in here!"
"Waaah!" Felicia yelped as she was suddenly pulled into the hug, nearly losing her balance. "Us too?!"
"Woah!!" Lizzy squealed, delighted as she was swept in as well. "Yay! A group hug! I always wanted to be part of one!"
The group burst out laughing as they were all crushed together in the tight embrace, shoulders bumping and laughter filling the room. Even the adults watching from the hallway couldn't help but smile warmly at the heartwarming scene.
Lydia's gaze lingered on Felicia, who was laughing freely among the others. Her expression softened, and she thought fondly, 'I'm glad to see her being so welcomed and accepted.'
Natasha, standing beside her, let out a quiet sigh and whispered under her breath, "What an affectionate woman." Her eyes softened with a wistful smile. 'From what I can tell, most of them aren't even related to her, and yet… What a beautiful family.'
Just then, Aria's muffled voice rose from the middle of the pile. "As nice as this is—I'm dying! I'm being suffocated!" she cried dramatically.
"Oops, hehehe, sorry about that, Aria!" Aunt May laughed, loosening her grip slightly as Aria stumbled free and inhaled an exaggerated gasp of air.
Clinging to Peter's arm for support, Aria exhaled heavily and declared, "I thought I was a goner!" placing a hand over her heart in mock distress. The room erupted into laughter once more.
"So," Peter said, straightening up and brushing imaginary dust off his jacket, "let's continue with the tour. Actually, this room is right next to Uncle Ben's office. The two are connected."
He gestured toward a door along the right-hand wall and walked over to open it. The hinges gave a faint creak as the door swung wide, revealing a second office almost identical to Aunt May's — same polished burgundy desk, same soft lighting, same large window that overlooked the city skyline. The only real difference was the color of the rug and the slightly messier arrangement of the bookshelves, which already seemed to suit Uncle Ben's personality.
Uncle Ben stepped inside and immediately let out an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest in mock awe. "My own personal office," he said dramatically, mimicking Aunt May's earlier tone. "I… I don't know what to say. I've never had my own personal office before!"
Aunt May froze mid-step and turned toward him with a stone-cold expression that could have made even hardened criminals rethink their life choices. "You think you're real funny, huh?" she asked flatly.
Uncle Ben didn't miss a beat. "They seem to think so," he said, pointing over his shoulder. Peter, Harry, and the others had quickly turned their faces away, shoulders trembling as they tried (and failed) to stifle their laughter.
"You're walking on thin ice, Benjamin. Watch it," Aunt May warned with mock severity, narrowing her eyes.
"Benjamin? Who's Benjamin?" Ben exclaimed with playful outrage. He lifted the gleaming nameplate from his new desk and held it up proudly. "Don't you mean… Uncle Ben!" The words were boldly engraved across the polished metal, and he made a show of polishing it against his sleeve like a prized trophy.
Uncle Ben placed a hand dramatically over his heart, mirroring Aunt May's earlier gesture perfectly. "Ugh, you kids sure know how to bring an old man to tears," he said in an exaggerated voice. "Oh, come here, all of you!" He spread his arms wide, pretending to tear up, his grin betraying him completely.
Peter and Harry groaned in unison. "Oh no, not again!"
"I see now where Peter gets that personality of his," George said dryly, crossing his arms.
"Yes, I see it too," Lydia added with an exasperated sigh, though a smirk tugged at her lips.
"That's where you're both wrong," Aunt May said, her brows twitching in mock irritation. "He doesn't get it from Ben. Ben got it from Peter. He used to be a serious man before that boy came along and infected him with his sense of humor."
Though her words were teasing, the fond smile she gave her husband betrayed her affection. Uncle Ben was currently laughing uproariously as he had both Peter and Harry locked in a playful double headlock. The two younger men flailed helplessly, tapping at his arms in surrender as everyone else laughed.
"Alright, alright, I give up!" Peter managed to choke out, laughing between breaths.
Janice, who had been standing a bit to the side, looked down at her phone as it buzzed repeatedly. Her fingers moved quickly across the screen as she typed, her expression tightening. She hesitated for a moment before clearing her throat softly. "Um, boss?" she said carefully. "I don't mean to interrupt, but we might have to cut this tour short."
Peter blinked, still halfway between laughter and catching his breath. "What's wrong?" he asked, curiosity flickering across his face.
Janice turned the phone around for everyone to see. "The press has arrived. They're outside waiting for you to make your speech."
The room fell silent.
Peter froze, then instantly straightened his posture, tugging nervously at his tie and running a hand through his hair. "I-I see… right, the press," he said awkwardly, his voice suddenly much smaller. "We, uh, we better not keep them waiting, then."
Aunt May tilted her head, confused by his sudden shift. "Pete?" she asked softly, taking little Aria from his arms as he fidgeted.
MJ stepped closer, raising an eyebrow. "Tiger… are you scared right now?" Her tone hovered between amusement and genuine surprise as she could feel his emotions clearly.
Peter hesitated. His eyes darted around the room before he exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly. "I… yeah," he admitted quietly. His cheeks flushed pink as he looked down at the floor. "I've never spoken publicly like this before. Not in front of so many cameras. The idea of hundreds of people staring at me—" He grimaced. "It's… a lot."
A deep, stunned silence filled the room. The group just stared at him in disbelief. Peter Parker — the man who had faced gun
men, supervillains, jumped off tall buildings and battled multiversal threat— was afraid of public speaking.
"You're the owner of a billion-dollar company," Lydia finally said, her voice breaking the silence. "How have you never done this before?"
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, looking both sheepish and anxious. "Because Janice is the best," he said, gesturing toward her. "She usually finds ways around these things so I never have to do them myself."
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