[Third Person PoV]
"I'm driving," Peter called out, raising a hand.
Uncle Ben let out a booming laugh, his head thrown back as he opened the passenger door for Aunt May. She stepped in with a soft chuckle of her own, shaking her head at her husband's antics.
"But it's my car…" Peter said flatly, his brows furrowing as his declaration went completely ignored.
Uncle Ben only laughed harder, clutching his chest as he circled around to the driver's side and slid into the seat with smug confidence.
MJ and Madeline, standing beside Peter, couldn't hold back their giggles at the exchange. The sound made Peter's left eye twitch as he glared daggers at Uncle Ben through the windshield.
Uncle Ben closed the door, still grinning like a kid, then rolled down the window just to point dramatically at Peter between laughs.
Aunt May, trying not to smile, gave his arm a light swat. "Stop being childish, Benjamin," she scolded.
Ben raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright," he said meekly, still chuckling under his breath.
Peter scoffed in amusement. Then as he noticed MJ's hand reaching for the door handle, he swatted it away without missing a beat.
"Ow!" she yelped, clutching her hand and giving him a glare.
Ignoring her protest, Peter opened the door himself and gestured with an exaggerated bow. "Ladies," he said with mock elegance.
Madeline stifled a laugh. "What a gentleman," she teased as she climbed inside.
MJ followed, still pouting and rubbing the back of her hand. To get even, she reached over, grabbed baby Aria from Peter's arms, and settled the girl on her lap with a smug smirk.
Peter sighed dramatically but let it slide as he took his seat beside them. Once everyone was buckled in, Uncle Ben started the car, and they rolled off down the street.
Almost immediately, the car filled with Aunt May and Madeline chatting about everything under the sun, mostly Aria's supposed "family connection." They'd agreed earlier that she was a distant cousin from May's side, a story simple enough to pass without suspicion.
Music hummed softly from the radio, the low buzz of conversation mingling with the hum of the tires against the road. Peter leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes, when MJ's voice echoed through his mind.
"So is my mother the only one who doesn't know…?" she asked through their psychic link, her mental tone awkward but curious.
"No," Peter replied, resting his head against the window. "Harry and Lizzy's families don't know either."
MJ hesitated, then added softly, "I'm not just talking about our identities… I meant our relationship."
Her hand brushed against his, and she let it rest there — a quiet, intimate gesture hidden beneath the hum of the ride. Peter's hand turned over, fingers threading through hers naturally.
"Babes," he said in a teasing tone, "I'm a thousand percent sure your mother already knows what kind of relationship we've got. You're not exactly a quiet moaner."
MJ's cheeks flared crimson. She squeezed his hand in warning, sending him a sharp look. Even though their words were private, the mere topic was enough to make her mortified sitting next to her mother.
"For your information," she said pointedly, "my mom thinks you're cheating on Gwen with me."
Peter's eyes snapped open. "What?! But she likes me! She doesn't act like she hates me — are you sure about that?"
MJ sighed, staring straight ahead. "Oh, she likes you alright. She's just… rooting for you and Gwen to break up so you can be with me instead."
Peter almost choked on his own breath. "I— wait— what?!"
She could practically feel his confusion bubbling through the link, so she continued before he could spiral further. "She knows about all those times I came over to your place when I was scared to stay home because of my dad. She knows I'd sneak into your room and fall asleep next to you."
Her mental voice softened, heavy with memories. "She's always known how much you mean to me, Pete. She sees how kind you are — how you protect me, how happy I am with you. She believes you'll give me a good life… once you stop being a scoundrel, that is."
Peter bit his lip, struggling not to laugh out loud in the back seat. "So your mom's basically our number one shipper?"
MJ groaned. "Don't make it sound weird."
After a quiet moment, Peter asked gently, "So… are you planning on telling her?"
MJ hesitated, her thumb tracing idle circles on the back of his hand. "That's the thing… I don't know. George knows, Lydia knows now too. It feels wrong to keep my mom in the dark. But…" She exhaled softly. "I'm scared. I don't know how she'll react once she hears it from me."
Peter didn't say anything — instead, he just squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in silent reassurance. She looked down at their joined hands and smiled faintly.
"Whatever you decide," Peter said softly, his voice carrying into her thoughts like a gentle whisper, "just know you won't have to do it alone. We're partners, remember? We face things together. Don't feel pressured to do something you're not ready for just because everyone else is doing it. This isn't some trend you have to follow. Take your time — do it when it feels right. Do it because you want to, not because you feel you have to."
His tone was calm, sincere.
MJ exhaled slowly, a small, genuine smile forming on her lips. She leaned her head against his shoulder, the corner of her mouth brushing the fabric of his jack. "Tiger…" she murmured softly, "I really did hit the jackpot with you. I love you in ways words can't even begin to express."
Peter didn't respond at first. His ears glowed faintly red. He shifted his posture, resting his elbow against the car door and his chin over his knuckles as he stared out the window, the corners of his lips twitching in embarrassment.
"Just feel it," he said finally, his words quiet but firm. "With your powers, you should be able to sense how much I love you too. I don't need words for that."
MJ tilted her head up to look at him, her smirk tugging at the edge of a smile. His composure, his calm confidence — it always made her heart flutter. She didn't say anything back, just let her head return to his shoulder, content in the quiet warmth between them.
Aria, perched on MJ's lap with the straightest face imaginable, blinked slowly before sighing inwardly. 'What did I do to deserve being punished like this?' she thought to herself, looking up at the ceiling.
…
When the car finally pulled to a stop, Peter stepped out first, stretching his legs and glancing up at the massive building before them. He opened the doors for the others one by one, guiding MJ, Aunt May, Madeline, and the still-pouting Aria out.
They stood in awe before the sprawling structure that dominated nearly the entire block — FEAST — the letters gleamed boldly across the front of the building.
A red ribbon stretched across the entrance, flanked by security personnel on either side. A podium stood waiting nearby, microphones lined neatly in a row, though the press hadn't yet gathered.
"Woah," Madeline breathed, her eyes wide as she took it all in.
Aunt May nodded in quiet admiration, her expression soft but full of pride. "It's… beautiful," she whispered.
Peter found himself smiling faintly as he gazed at the building. There was pride in his chest — not just for the accomplishment, but for what the place stood for. FEAST wasn't just another foundation; it was a promise to help others — the kind of promise his Uncle Ben had always believed in.
As his gaze drifted lower, movement caught his attention. Two women were approaching from across the lot, walking with purpose. Peter immediately recognized them — one was Natasha, or rather Natalia, given the alias she used with them. Beside her was Janice, his personal secretary, looking surprisingly lively for someone who should've been on medical leave.
"Boss," Janice greeted with a polite nod, her tone professional yet warm. Natalia, on the other hand, looked like she was seconds away from pinching the bridge of her nose.
Peter's eyes narrowed. "Don't 'Boss' me like everything's normal. The hell are you doing here?" he demanded, glaring at Janice.
"Peter," Aunt May warned, giving him that look.
Peter sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "It's fine, Aunt May. She's my personal secretary — who, last I checked, was supposed to be at home resting. You had an accident at work, remember? As far as I'm aware, your paid leave isn't over yet."
Natalia rubbed her temple and muttered, "I'm sorry sir, I tried to stop her, but she's stubborn."
Janice gave a nervous chuckle and straightened her blazer. "I'm sorry, sir, but I couldn't just sit at home while something this important was happening. I know how much this project means to you. I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I missed the grand opening."
Peter exhaled heavily, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Jesus Christ… this is what I get for hiring competent people."
That made Janice grin proudly to herself, clearly taking it as a compliment rather than the scolding it was meant to be.
Uncle Ben chuckled quietly beside Aunt May, who smiled knowingly. They could tell, from the exchange alone, that Peter treated his people like family — a reflection of his character and heart.
"Alright, fine," Peter said at last, lowering his hand. "Since you're both here, Janice, Natalia — come on. Let me introduce you to my family."
He motioned toward the group behind him. Aunt May stepped forward with a welcoming smile as the two women approached, and the faint hum of conversation began to rise once more
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