[Third Person Pov]
Peter led the way through the bustling city streets, doing his best to blend seamlessly into the crowd—an effort that proved nearly impossible. With two strikingly attractive young women flanking him on either side, heads turned wherever they went. MJ walked with her usual confident stride, her red hair catching the afternoon light, while Felicia moved with that signature feline grace, her platinum blonde locks swaying and drawing more than a few lingering glances.
"Why are you so excited?" MJ asked, shooting Peter a weirded-out sideways look. She could practically feel the buoyant energy radiating off him in waves. "Isn't this just a normal press conference?"
"Yeah," Felicia chimed in, glancing between the two of them with genuine confusion clouding her sharp features. "The only reason I'm even here is because I wanted to see what one was like in person. I figured it'd be a solid experience, you know? Are you telling me it's not?"
Peter flashed them both an expectant grin, his eyes sparkling with barely contained mischief. "It *is* a normal conference. And what's wrong with me being excited about it? Can't a guy look forward to sitting in a room packed with reporters and a bunch of unknown suits while we all watch Tony Stark try to spin the story of what went down last night?"
Felicia exchanged a knowing look with MJ, arching a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You're right. He's behaving a bit weird and unusual."
Peter rolled his eyes good-naturedly as the grand entrance of the conference building came into view. He reached the heavy glass doors first and held them open with exaggerated chivalry, gesturing for the girls to enter ahead of him. Both shot him teasing grins as they passed.
"Oh my, what a gentleman. Thank you~" MJ remarked playfully, tossing him a wink over her shoulder that made his stomach do a little flip.
"Holding the door for us ladies, huh? What a good boy you are, Petey~" Felicia purred, her voice low and silky. She trailed a perfectly manicured nail lightly underneath his chin as she brushed past, blowing him a quick kiss that left a faint trace of her signature perfume lingering in the air.
Peter snorted in amusement, shaking his head as he followed them inside. Their mischievous giggles echoed softly through the lobby, drawing a few curious looks from other attendees. He guided them toward the front row, claiming three seats right in the center. Peter settled comfortably between MJ and Felicia as the room gradually filled out with journalists, cameramen, and various officials, the low hum of conversation building around them like a gathering storm.
Once every seat was occupied and the audience had settled into an expectant hush, Colonel James Rhodes—dressed sharply in his formal military attire, medals gleaming under the bright lights—strode up to the podium with purposeful steps. He adjusted the microphone briefly before launching into his prepared remarks about the recent chaotic incident at Stark Industries.
"You all received the official statement regarding what occurred within Stark Industries last night," Rhodes began, his voice steady and authoritative as he scanned the crowd before glancing back down at his flashcards. "There have been numerous reports claiming that a robotic prototype malfunctioned, leading to significant damage to the Arc Reactor…"
As Rhodey continued his measured delivery, Peter found himself only half-listening. He was far more engrossed in his phone, thumbs flying across the screen with far greater interest than the colonel's speech could command. Rhodes noticed the distraction but chose to ignore it, pressing onward with professional composure.
MJ, meanwhile, lifted the camera hanging around her neck, snapping a series of crisp photos for Jameson back at the Bugle. She was just lowering it when Peter started nudging her elbow insistently. She turned toward him curiously, one eyebrow raised in silent question.
Peter leaned in close, tilting his phone screen so she could see it clearly. There, in the group chat, was a fresh exchange with Gwen. The latest message featured a selfie Gwen had taken of herself and Aria: both girls perched confidently on a sleek motorcycle, sporting cool sunglasses and each holding a generous cone of ice cream. The caption underneath read: 'Having more fun than you losers.'
MJ stifled a quiet laugh, her shoulders shaking with mirth as she covered her mouth. "Oh my gosh, that's so cute. Send me that picture!"
Peter nodded, his smile widening into a full grin as he quickly forwarded the image to both MJ and Felicia. The latter, catching sight of it over his shoulder, immediately demanded her own copy with an eager whisper, her eyes lighting up at the playful scene.
"And now, Mr. Stark has prepared a statement. He will not be taking any questions," Rhodey announced, stepping slightly aside as Tony Stark made his trademark entrance from the wings of the stage. The crowd's attention shifted instantly toward the charismatic billionaire, the atmosphere in the room tightening with anticipation.
Peter immediately stashed his phone back into his pocket and straightened up in his seat, shifting his full attention to the stage. A wide, almost giddy smile spread across his face as he watched Tony Stark stride into the spotlight with that unmistakable swagger. Tony scanned the crowd briefly, his sharp gaze landing on Peter's beaming expression. For a split second, the billionaire's brow furrowed in confusion, shooting him a puzzled look that screamed 'What the hell is wrong with you, kid?' before he smoothly ignored it and turned back to the podium.
"It's been a while since I was in front of you all, so I'll be sticking to the cards," Tony announced with a theatrical cough to clear his throat. The sound drew a faint ripple of polite laughter from the audience, easing some of the tension in the room.
"There have been numerous speculations that I was personally involved in the events that occurred—" Tony began, but he was cut off almost instantly.
"Do you seriously expect us to believe that it was just a bodyguard in a suit involved in last night's incident? Fighting alongside the likes of Spider-Man, no less—" A sharp, blonde female reporter interjected, her voice dripping with deliberate smugness as she leaned forward, microphone in hand.
Tony interrupted her right back, raising a hand with effortless charisma. "I know it's confusing. It's one thing to question the official story, but it's another to spin wild speculations or insinuate that I'm some kind of superhero."
"I never said you *were* a superhero," the reporter shot back, a sly grin curling her lips.
"You didn't?" Tony paused dramatically, letting the moment hang as the reporter shook her head. "Well, good… because then that would have been fantastic."
He cleared his throat again, leaning into the mic with mock sincerity. "Since I'm clearly not the heroic type—let's be real here. I mean, working alongside an amazing hero like Spider-Man? That could never be me. Especially with all my well-documented character defects. Everyone knows I don't play well with others and would just hog the entire spotlight anyway."
Noticing Tony starting to spiral into his signature tangents, Rhodey leaned in close to his ear and whispered urgently, "Just stick to the cards, Tony."
"Right… the cards," Tony muttered, lifting the small stack of notecards in front of him like a shield. He stared down at them for a long beat, then lowered his gaze to the floor in front of the podium, as if gathering himself. The entire room seemed to hold its collective breath.
"The truth of the matter is…" he began slowly, his voice measured. Then, with a sudden decisive motion, he lowered the cards completely and looked straight out at the sea of reporters.
"I am Iron Man."
The room exploded. Blinding camera flashes erupted like fireworks, accompanied by the relentless clatter of shutters firing in rapid succession. Reporters leaped up from their seats in a chaotic frenzy, shouting overlapping questions that turned the press conference into pure pandemonium. Security moved quickly, but the damage was done—the revelation hung in the air like a thunderclap.
MJ and Felicia both whipped their heads toward Peter at the same time, identical expressions of utter bewilderment painted across their faces. Peter sat there with one hand clamped tightly over his mouth, his eyes glistening with unshed tears that threatened to spill over.
"Peter, are you seriously crying right now?" Felicia asked in complete disbelief, her voice a hushed whisper as Rhodey began pulling Tony off the stage amid the uproar.
"Why the heck are you being so emotional?" MJ added, looking completely bewildered, as if she'd just witnessed something impossible.
Peter wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, a watery but genuine smile breaking through. He patted his chest firmly with a closed fist, right over his heart, his voice thick with feelings. "That's what I'm talking about," he said, barely containing the swell of emotion. "This shit means something to me, man."
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