MILFYVERSE

The last thing I remembered was lying on my death bed, my body racked with terminal cancer, taking my final labored breaths. I closed my eyes, expecting oblivion. But instead, I opened them again to find myself standing in a small bedroom, looking down at my hands in shock. They were youthful, unblemished - not the gnarled, frail appendages of an old man.

Peering around, I realized with a jolt that I was in the bedroom of Peter Parker! The iconic Spider-Man posters adorned the walls. Had my soul been transported into Peter's body? I shook my head in disbelief. Surely this was a dream or a near-death hallucination.

Pinching myself provided little clarity. This bizarre experience felt viscerally real. Memories of Peter's life came flooding into my mind. Today was the day after he had been bitten by the radioactive spider at the science exhibit. My scalp tingled with a strange new sense - an acute spatial awareness that extended in a radius around me. I carefully stretched out my arm and released my grip, allowing my bookbag to slip from my fingers. In an instinct faster than thought, my body contorted and my feet clung to the ceiling by some incredible adhesive force.

I was Spider-Man! Or at least, I was inhabiting the body of the young Peter Parker right as he gained his arachnid-like abilities. This was astonishing and terrifying in equal measure.

A aunt's voice calling out from another room startled me, nearly making me lose my tenuous grip on the ceiling. "Peter? Is that you I heard come in? I'm making wheatcakes for breakfast!"

Despite my shock, I felt an unexpected warmth seeing Aunt May for the first time. She looked younger and more vibrant than her aged movie counterparts, but still mature and charming in her mid-forties. A grey streak accented her brunette hair. Regaining my composure, I unstuck myself from the ceiling and cautiously made my way downstairs.

"There's my favorite nephew!" May beamed, cupping my cheek affectionately. "You're just in time."

I smiled back, unsure what to say. Uncle Ben sat at the kitchen table, greeting me with a warm smile and nod over the newspaper.

After an awkward breakfast of buttered wheatcakes and small talk, I excused myself to get ready for school. I changed into fresh clothes, marveling at my lithe, athletic teenage body. When the yellow school bus rumbled into view outside the bedroom window, my stomach knotted with anxiety. Had I made a terrible mistake somehow stumbling into this world?

I hurried outside and down the driveway just as the bus began to pull away. "Wait!" I shouted, breaking into a sprint and easily catching up due to my newly enhanced speed. Grasping the handrail, I attempted to hoist myself aboard. But the metal handle detached with a sickening crack, and I found myself flung backwards onto the hard pavement of the street.

Raucous laughter erupted from the bus windows as the teenagers jeered and mocked me. "Loser! Freak! Get a car, Parker!"

Humiliated, I slowly picked myself up off the asphalt, wincing at the scrapes already forming on my palms and knees. My body may have been imbued with incredible powers, but I was still just a gawky, orphaned teenager to the cruel world around me. I sighed, suddenly missing my old life terribly. Being Spider-Man was going to be even harder than I thought.

As the bus pulled away, leaving me coughing in a cloud of exhaust fumes, I heard a familiar voice call out. "Pete? You okay, man?"

I turned to see Harry Osborn and his mother emerging from their sleek town car. Even at a young age, Harry's features bore an uncanny resemblance to his father Norman - the same piercing eyes and haughty demeanor. Mrs. Osborn on the other hand was almost disarmingly beautiful, radiating sophistication and elegance.

"Oh Peter, what happened?" she asked with perfectly-feigned concern, eyeing the scrapes on my hands and knees. Harry rolled his eyes beside her.

"Uh, nothing, Mrs. Osborn. I just...fell," I stammered, averting my gaze in embarrassment.

She tutted sympathetically. "You really must be more careful. We wouldn't want that perfect bone structure getting roughed up." Her eyes seemed to linger a little too long examining my face and body.

I felt my cheeks flush as Harry shot me a quizzical look. Mrs. Osborn's flirtatious undertones, even directed at a teenage boy, were blatant and disconcerting.

"Well, feel free to stop by the mansion sometime if you need anything, Pete," she purred with a perfectly rehearsed smile. "You know we consider you family."

With a wink and a squeeze of my shoulder, she sashayed off towards the school entrance, hips swaying hypnotically. Harry and I watched her depart, equally slack-jawed for very different reasons.

"Dude, my mom is so thirsty," Harry deadpanned once she was out of earshot. "It's creepy."

"Y-yeah..." I agreed, still flustered. Taking in a breath, I tried to reset and focus on the day ahead. "We should, uh, get to class."

We made our way toward the entrance, Harry updating me on the latest dramas and gossip I had missed while being...indisposed in my previous life. Suddenly, a crisp autumn breeze swept across the courtyard, and my new spider-sense activated like a klaxon in my skull. I froze, perception seeming to slow as I tracked an incoming object's trajectory.

In one fluid motion, I whipped around and snatched the airborne football from its arced path, inches from braining the passing Liz Allan in the back of the head. She turned, gaping in surprise, as did the entire courtyard of students who had witnessed my astonishing reflex.

"Peter...how did you..." Harry trailed off beside me, equally stunned.

I looked at the pigskin in my grip, then back at the stunned onlookers. A slow smile spread across my face, realizing this was just the beginning of my abilities awakening. Maybe being Spider-Man wasn't going to be so bad after all.

The rest of the morning classes passed by in a blur. Word of my acrobatic football catch had quickly spread through the halls, and I found myself the object of strange looks and whispers from my classmates. Harry kept shooting me sidelong glances, no doubt burning with curiosity about my newfound abilities.

When the lunch bell finally rang, I followed the herd of hungry students to the cacophonous cafeteria. Snagging a tray of lukewarm pizza and a carton of chocolate milk, I scanned the sea of tables for a familiar face. My eyes landed on Harry waving me over to a table along the windows. As I worked my way through the maze of chattering teens, someone's elbow jabbed my tray, sending my milk carton tumbling.

"Oh, shoot! I'm so sorry," a deliciously raspy voice exclaimed beside me.

I turned to see the astonishingly beautiful face of Mary Jane Watson, her emerald eyes wide with surprise. Even as an awkward high schooler, MJ's fiery red hair and porcelain skin rendered her practically радийоактивен.

"It's, uh...it's no big deal," I mumbled lamely, rooted in place and captivated.

A hulking figure suddenly loomed over me, snatching up my spilled milk carton. "Hey, Parker! Watch where you're going, you little twerp!"

The brutish voice belonged to Flash Thompson, Midtown High's muscle-bound star quarterback. He sneered at me as he handed the milk back to MJ in a chivalrous display.

"It's okay, baby," MJ cooed, looping her arm around Flash's bulging bicep. "Puny Parker here was just admiring your gunshow."

Flash laughed oafishly as MJ smirked at me. I felt my face flushing crimson. How had I already managed to run afoul of the school's top jock and his gorgeous girlfriend?

Thankfully, Harry materialized at my side. "Let's go sit down, Pete," he urged, shooting a scathing look at Flash and MJ.

As I turned to follow Harry, Flash's beefy hand clamped on my shoulder and spun me around. His meaty face was inches from mine, hot meat-scented breath washing over me.

"What's the matter, Parker? Cat got your tongue?" He shoved me backwards, sending my pizza tray clattering to the floor. "Or are you just too busy stuffing your piehole to talk?"

A chorus of laughter erupted from the surrounding tables. Flash's toadies guffawed hyenically beside him. Hot anger surged through me, threatening to overcome my restraint. I clenched my fists, new muscles tensing...

Suddenly, a firm hand gripped my arm. It was Harry, his expression unmistakably warning me. With effort, I swallowed my rage and turned away, leaving Flash and his cackling entourage behind us.

"Just walk away, Pete," Harry muttered darkly. "He's not worth it, bro."

***

At Harry's home,

After hanging out with Harry for a while, I excused myself to use the restroom. As I wandered back through the maze-like mansion halls, I passed by what looked like a study or home office.

"Why, hello there Peter."

Ella Osborn was standing in the doorway, a coy smile on her lips. She had changed into a form-fitting black dress that accentuated her curves. "Please, come in for a moment."

I stepped inside hesitantly. The room was lined with shelves filled with books and the air had a faint cedar scent. A fire crackled in the fireplace.

"I just wanted to check in," Ella said, pouring herself a glass of scotch from a tray. "See how you're enjoying your time here."

She fixed me with a look over the rim of her glass as she took a sip. Even though I was 18, her intense gaze made me feel self-conscious.

"It's been great, Mrs. Osborn. You have a...lovely home," I managed.

She laughed lightly. "Please, call me Ella. 'Mrs. Osborn' is so formal for friends of Harry's."

Moving closer, she gently traced a finger along my jawline, making me stiffen. Up close, I could smell her perfume mingling with the scotch on her breath.

"And such handsome friends, at that," Ella purred. "Don't you agree we...attractive people should stick together?"

I swallowed hard, unsure how to respond as she held my gaze with her piercing eyes. Was she actually flirting with me? My mind raced awkwardly.

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