Alright, quick break from the chaos, I've finally opened up a Patreon.
If you're enjoying the fic and don't want to wait for updates, you can read all the way up to Chapter 72 right now. I'll be adding more drafts soon since I've got a fat backlog sitting around.
patreon.com/ScriptWraith
PS. Added Images, check the top of the chapter list.
(.)(.)
MJ's lips moved a bit, like she wanted to say something but wasn't sure if it was gonna come out offended or flirtatious.
The best tactic was slowly showing the crazy, but meh, MJ was my first target. Gotta be a bit honest.
Also, yeah. I could smell her wetness that morning. When I caught Flash's punch? That second, when I clamped his gorilla knuckles mid-air? Her ovaries were humming. Just enough pheromone to trigger the System's breathy hum.
"Okay," she said, rubbing her palm against her jeans like she needed to wipe the internet off. "I get it. You were weird."
"Still am."
"Yeah. But now it is... like a hot weirdo who knows it. That is the unsettling part."
I grinned. "You think I am hot?"
"I think you are a walking red flag with a jawline. Which is worse."
[System]: Compliment detected. Veiled. Spite-coated. Delicious.
She stood. Pacing a little. Like she could walk it off. "So what do you want?"
"Right now?"
"Peter-"
I got up. Closed the space between us. MJ blinked, watching like I might say something stupid. Again.
System, gonna need full feedback on this one.
[System]: Standing by~ breath held, panties half-dropped.
Right...
"Old Peter and I share something in common," I said out loud. "We both liked you."
She flinched.
"While that virgin had no balls to admit it, I do. I grew up with you. I liked you for years, only had no courage or spine to admit it to your face."
She looked at me like I just told her I was an alien. Which, technically, was not far off. Soul snatched from Earth, dropped into Marvel, now playing hot reincarnate with unresolved horniness. Yeah. Alien works.
"Peter…" she started, slow as if she didn't know what to say. "I had no idea."
I laughed. Out loud.
"C'mon, MJ. That is bull. All girls have built-in radar. I am pretty sure y'all sense crushes better than sharks smell blood. Which is surprising considering hella of girls dates bastards that will hurt them. "
She opened her mouth. Nothing.
"You knew," I said, eyes not moving off hers. "You just didn't care. Not in that way. Which is fine. You liked me as your nerdy little backup dancer. The one who helped with homework and said awkward shit in chem lab and knew how to keep his mouth shut while you flirted with guys who wear Axe like cologne is personality."
Her hand twitched. Then she raised it.
Slap incoming.
I caught her wrist mid-air.
[System]: Ohhh~ contact. Hostile flirt tension detected. +1 XP.
"You are an asshole," she snapped, yanking a little. I didn't let go.
"True," I said. "But not for this."
She kept trying to pull. I kept holding.
"You are not mad because I said something mean. You are mad because I said something you don't want to hear out loud."
"Let go of me."
"Not yet."
I loosened my grip just enough so she was not straining. Not trying to hurt her. Just holding the moment still.
"You are mad because I reminded you that you saw it. And you ignored it."
"Because I was being polite!"
"No. Because it was easy."
"You were the nice one," she said. "You were... safe."
"Exactly. I was safe. And boring. And convenient. You did not have to think too hard around me. You got to be the hot one. The smart one. I was just... orbit."
She stepped back. Looked like she wanted to say something smart. Then nothing came.
I yawned. Then cracked my neck for extra dramatics.
"That was a nice talk, MJ. Oof. It was eating me up," I said, rubbing my chest like I had just coughed up some spiritual hairball. "Now I feel free."
She blinked.
I turned on my heel and started walking.
"Where the hell are you going?" she called from behind me.
I paused near the roof hatch. Glanced back.
"Home."
That one word? Set her off like she just realized I was serious. She stormed after me.
"That is it?" she snapped. "You say all that, you drop a confession like a damn bomb, say you like me, then you just walk away?"
I tilted my head. "There seems to be a misunderstanding, MJ."
"I said I liked you," I said. "Past tense. I was honest about that. Liked. Old Peter's feelings. They were mine too. But when the mask dropped? When Flash bounced my skull off a locker like a dodgeball? Some things cleared up."
She looked... pissed.
"I am not a backup. Not the safe bet you keep around just in case your main dude fails the loyalty side quest. I don't do settle."
[System]: Mmm. Mic drop. +2 XP. Girl.exe not responding.
"I never asked you to settle!" she said, eyes wide.
"No," I said. "You just expected me to always be there."
(.)(.)
When I got home May was posted on the couch with one leg folded under the other, watching TV. Something with bad lighting and worse acting. Her eyes flicked toward the door when I walked in, then back to the screen.
I jumped onto the couch like a lazy cat on a heat pad. Right across her lap.
My head landed on her thighs. Firm. Soft. Unholy combo.
"Hey," I said, looking up.
She glanced down, hair framing her face like the universe had settings on "MILF filter: ON." Her fingers slipped into my hair like it was automatic. She scratched my scalp.
"How did it go?" she asked, still scrolling channels like we were not about to hit questionable territory.
I purred. Literally.
"Great," I said.
Not a damn thing else needed adding.
[System]: Mmm~ casual lap contact achieved. Purring detected. Thighs archived. +1 XP.
Her hand kept moving. Small circles. She knew what she was doing. Probably thought it was comforting. She had no idea what it did to my testosterone levels. I didn't move. Not even a little. My cheek was practically fused to her yoga pants. Best goddamn pillow in the house.
When I woke up on the couch with a quilt thrown over me, it was fair to say I felt betrayed. Sleep did me dirty. Again.
I sat up, groggy. Yawned hard, my jaw clicked. Quilt smelled like May's detergent, lavender and something motherly, which should not have been comforting after falling asleep with my face on her thighs.
Damn sleep.
I ran both hands down my face, like I could scrape the regret off, then stood. May was still out cold in her room. I moved quietly, grabbed fresh clothes, and hit the shower. Cold enough to bully my hormones back into check.
System: Mission Failed: Midnight Heist Cancelled by MILF Legs. No shame. Happens to the best of us.
I was planning to raid Black Tusk's lair after May clocked out for the night, but no. Her thighs were warm, criminally soft, and next thing I knew I was drooling on her lap like some overgrown housecat.
Nap stole my whole heist. Shame. But hey, thighs like that should be registered as tranquilizers.
Whatever. I could hit the lair tonight. Dude was not going anywhere. Neon jackets don't exactly scream "covert."
Walking into Midtown felt like stepping onto a red carpet I never asked for.
Eyes? On me.
Whispers? Definitely.
One dude actually paused his locker spin to give me a once-over. Like I had grown abs overnight and forgot to warn the dress code.
Well, to be fair... yeah. I looked different.
Hair was done. Hoodie was gone. Shirt fit. Jeans weren't sagging like I was cosplaying as budget Peter from last week. And I walked different. Straight. Tall. Like Flash's punch turned on the main character animation pack.
Also, I made him eat floor yesterday. That helped.
[System]: You broke canon, baby. Midtown's collective panties just twitched.
I barely stepped through the doors and already caught three looks from the hallway wallflowers. Two girls from band and one senior I swear only speaks in eyeliner. One even bit her pen. Might be thinking. Might be fantasizing. Who knew?
MJ was at her locker. Her back was turned, hair up in a bun that screamed "bare minimum effort" but still managed to make guys walk into doors. She looked up. Froze. Then blinked.
I did not wave.
She stared a second longer than necessary. Looked like she was still buffering from last night. That little rant. The exit. My entire existence now sitting somewhere between "did he just say that?" and "why did that lowkey turn me on?"
She turned back to her locker without a word. Pretending I did not exist.
Cool.
[System]: Playing hard to get detected. Classic MJ maneuver. Mood: Frosty... but curious.
I hit my locker, to get my books but of course, Flash happened.
"Yo, Parker."
He was flanked by his two usual meat drones. One had braces. The other had the IQ of drywall. Neither looked confident. Flash stood there, arms crossed like it was his defense stat.
"You ditch class yesterday?"
I smiled.
"Yeah. Slept like a baby. Had the best dream. You were there. Face down."
One of the meat drones snorted.
Flash glared. Elbowed him.
I stepped forward, one hand on my locker, eyes locked on his.
"You here to talk, or you trying to hit me again?"
He looked like he wanted to say something tough. Instead, he stepped back.
[System]: Dominance Check Passed. Flash is now 40 percent bark, 60 percent bowel movement.
"Whatever, Parker," he muttered. "This ain't over."
I leaned in, so close, his brain could hear me even if his ego didn't.
"It is if you don't grow a spine by Friday."
He walked off. Meat drones trailing.
I shut my locker.
Someone clapped behind me.
Harry.
Of course.
He walked up with that lopsided grin like he was two seconds from inviting me to brunch with Daddy Osborn. "Okay," Harry said. "Who are you and what did you do to my chemistry partner?"
I patted his shoulder. "He is in witness protection. I am just borrowing his face."
He nodded like that made perfect sense. "You hitting the cafeteria? Felicia and the others were talking about you yesterday."
Felicia. Of course. Platinum hottie with a smirk like she kept knives in her purse and a punchline in her bra. Definitely not subtle about anything.
I shrugged. "Got Geometry first. Will catch you after."
Harry laughed through his nose, did that fake salute thing with two fingers, then peeled off toward his usual orbit of clout and chaos.
Class was uneventful. Geo was Geo. Teacher droned like someone swapped his soul with a broken fax machine. I sat at the back, tapping my pen, watching the hands of the clock move. Forty minutes of graph talk and the highlight was the girl in front of me adjusting her bra strap every five minutes like it promised support and gave betrayal.
[System]: XP denied. She is not your target. Stay focused, sugar.