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seriousficTitle: This Spider-Man – This Misogynist!?
Fandom: Spider-Man
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 829
Characters/Pairings: Peter/MJ
Summary: Peter learns the hard way that fighting villainesses can have SRS consequences.
Spider-Man limped into his apartment, as well as the limping equivalent for arms as he pulled himself through the window. His costume hung off him like a thing that was really damaged and not as functional as it should be.
Mary-Jane was lying on the couch, watching TV.
“Four hours,” he told her. “Four hours I’ve been fighting Titania. That’s enough time for Alpha Flight to fly down here from Canada! But does anyone help me? No. You’d think Daredevil could at least swing by and throw a dang billy club…” He made to sit in an easy chair.
“Uh! Uh! Uh! I just had this place reupholstered. Please, let me spend just a few hours basking in its leathery goodness before you rub your sweat all over it.”
Peter sagged against the armrest of the couch she was lying on. “Don’t get sweat on the furniture?”
“That’s right.”
He crawled over the couch. “You’re not part of the furniture.”
“Not as such, no.”
“Good.” He collapsed on her, burying his face in her cleavage. “Wake me up for New Year’s.”
MJ giggled and tugged his mask off, accidentally ripping the crown of it straight off.
“You won?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I? No, really, aren’t I?”
“Yes. That’s what matters.”
He paused and, much as it pained him, lifted himself off her breasts. “What… doesn’t matter?”
“Apparently, New York hates you again.”
“I just helped save the world last week! It was literally last week!”
“You know New Yorkers, they don’t consider themselves a part of the world. And besides, people suck.”
“Well, there’s a person who lives in this apartment that I find very non-sucky.”
She waited for him to elaborate, then pulled him back down, albeit in a slightly more dignified pose. No reason to wait for him to start making motorboat noises, after all. “I see peril no longer triggers your life-affirming romance sense.”
“I just spent the last four hours getting dominated by a redhead in a one-piece—“
“To distinguish from the last ten years you’ve spent getting dominated by a redhead who occasionally wears a two-piece.”
“I don’t think Psylocke could get me in the mood right now. In fact, I think I’ve gone gay. Call Johnny Storm, tell him today’s the day.”
“…Psylocke?”
Peter groaned.
“Relax. Just gives me a great idea for a Halloween costume.”
“I’m not going as Ka-Zar again, I don’t care how you bribe me.” He kissed her. “Okay, that was a lie.” He slanted against the cushions. “So, how bad is my public evisceration this time?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I gotta know.”
“Or we could try for that life-affirming romance. You know, while you’re still sweaty.”
He moved them into firm ‘cuddle’ territory. “No, sorry, I’d just be brooding over this and it’d be unsatisfying on all fronts. Show me.”
Mary-Jane grabbed the remote. “You never brood when we’re… do you? Tell me you don’t think of the bridge while we’re…”
“I don’t. I only have so much mental real estate and you get pretty much everything that isn’t Star Wars trivia.”
“See? You can be romantic.”
“Of course I can, Princess Leia.”
Mary-Jane turned on the TV. Larry King had J. Jonah Jameson on his show again. Some day, it would be Colbert having him on as a guest, and it would be glorious.
“I think it’s obvious what’s happened here, Larry! Spider-Man, not content with corrupting our youth and encouraging ugly fashions, has now moved on to misogyny! Why else would he savagely beat a woman for four hours, while New York stood by, helpless to stop him?”
“What do you say of reports that the woman was Titania, wanted for questioning in numerous—“
“Larry, I don’t need facts to know when something’s sexist!”
Peter moaned direly. “I don’t suppose anyone cares that Titania is about a million times stronger than me? She punched me through a building. It hurt. There was pain.”
Larry turned. “And your response?”
The camera panned to Black Cat, sitting in full costume. “Listen up! Spider-Man isn’t a misogynist! No man who does cunnilingus as much as he does could be a sexist. The man was down there so often I felt like a tourist attraction. Showings three times a day! I could’ve put some sort of aloe strip on his upper lip because… tongue-lashing. Not just a metaphor. Some women smell like tuna down there, I smelled like Listerine. The first time, it was just ‘Cat, is all your hair white?’ I thought once would be sufficient proof, but he apparently wanted periodic updates. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice to take a breather from all the coitus…”
“Hold it right there, missy!” Jameson shouted.
Peter numbly took the remote from Mary-Jane and turned the TV off. “Don’t ask me to watch J. Jonah Jameson and my ex debate oral sex. Please.”
Mary-Jane crossed her arms. ”I bet she can’t even spell cunnilingus,” she said.
And when you think about it, after a while, all the beautiful woman in revealing outfits beating you up would have to serve as a sort of aversion therapy…
Spider-Man: Ooh, boobies!
White Queen: *punch!*
Spider-Man: Ooh, boobies!
Volcana: *punch!*
Spider-Man: Ooh, boobies!
Superia: *punch!*
So when he gets home…
Mary-Jane: Hey Peter, wanna fool around? …Peter, why did you jump across the room and web me to the bed?
Peter: Uh… foreplay?
Fandom: Spider-Man
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 829
Characters/Pairings: Peter/MJ
Summary: Peter learns the hard way that fighting villainesses can have SRS consequences.
Spider-Man limped into his apartment, as well as the limping equivalent for arms as he pulled himself through the window. His costume hung off him like a thing that was really damaged and not as functional as it should be.
Mary-Jane was lying on the couch, watching TV.
“Four hours,” he told her. “Four hours I’ve been fighting Titania. That’s enough time for Alpha Flight to fly down here from Canada! But does anyone help me? No. You’d think Daredevil could at least swing by and throw a dang billy club…” He made to sit in an easy chair.
“Uh! Uh! Uh! I just had this place reupholstered. Please, let me spend just a few hours basking in its leathery goodness before you rub your sweat all over it.”
Peter sagged against the armrest of the couch she was lying on. “Don’t get sweat on the furniture?”
“That’s right.”
He crawled over the couch. “You’re not part of the furniture.”
“Not as such, no.”
“Good.” He collapsed on her, burying his face in her cleavage. “Wake me up for New Year’s.”
MJ giggled and tugged his mask off, accidentally ripping the crown of it straight off.
“You won?”
“I’m alive, aren’t I? No, really, aren’t I?”
“Yes. That’s what matters.”
He paused and, much as it pained him, lifted himself off her breasts. “What… doesn’t matter?”
“Apparently, New York hates you again.”
“I just helped save the world last week! It was literally last week!”
“You know New Yorkers, they don’t consider themselves a part of the world. And besides, people suck.”
“Well, there’s a person who lives in this apartment that I find very non-sucky.”
She waited for him to elaborate, then pulled him back down, albeit in a slightly more dignified pose. No reason to wait for him to start making motorboat noises, after all. “I see peril no longer triggers your life-affirming romance sense.”
“I just spent the last four hours getting dominated by a redhead in a one-piece—“
“To distinguish from the last ten years you’ve spent getting dominated by a redhead who occasionally wears a two-piece.”
“I don’t think Psylocke could get me in the mood right now. In fact, I think I’ve gone gay. Call Johnny Storm, tell him today’s the day.”
“…Psylocke?”
Peter groaned.
“Relax. Just gives me a great idea for a Halloween costume.”
“I’m not going as Ka-Zar again, I don’t care how you bribe me.” He kissed her. “Okay, that was a lie.” He slanted against the cushions. “So, how bad is my public evisceration this time?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“I gotta know.”
“Or we could try for that life-affirming romance. You know, while you’re still sweaty.”
He moved them into firm ‘cuddle’ territory. “No, sorry, I’d just be brooding over this and it’d be unsatisfying on all fronts. Show me.”
Mary-Jane grabbed the remote. “You never brood when we’re… do you? Tell me you don’t think of the bridge while we’re…”
“I don’t. I only have so much mental real estate and you get pretty much everything that isn’t Star Wars trivia.”
“See? You can be romantic.”
“Of course I can, Princess Leia.”
Mary-Jane turned on the TV. Larry King had J. Jonah Jameson on his show again. Some day, it would be Colbert having him on as a guest, and it would be glorious.
“I think it’s obvious what’s happened here, Larry! Spider-Man, not content with corrupting our youth and encouraging ugly fashions, has now moved on to misogyny! Why else would he savagely beat a woman for four hours, while New York stood by, helpless to stop him?”
“What do you say of reports that the woman was Titania, wanted for questioning in numerous—“
“Larry, I don’t need facts to know when something’s sexist!”
Peter moaned direly. “I don’t suppose anyone cares that Titania is about a million times stronger than me? She punched me through a building. It hurt. There was pain.”
Larry turned. “And your response?”
The camera panned to Black Cat, sitting in full costume. “Listen up! Spider-Man isn’t a misogynist! No man who does cunnilingus as much as he does could be a sexist. The man was down there so often I felt like a tourist attraction. Showings three times a day! I could’ve put some sort of aloe strip on his upper lip because… tongue-lashing. Not just a metaphor. Some women smell like tuna down there, I smelled like Listerine. The first time, it was just ‘Cat, is all your hair white?’ I thought once would be sufficient proof, but he apparently wanted periodic updates. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice to take a breather from all the coitus…”
“Hold it right there, missy!” Jameson shouted.
Peter numbly took the remote from Mary-Jane and turned the TV off. “Don’t ask me to watch J. Jonah Jameson and my ex debate oral sex. Please.”
Mary-Jane crossed her arms. ”I bet she can’t even spell cunnilingus,” she said.
And when you think about it, after a while, all the beautiful woman in revealing outfits beating you up would have to serve as a sort of aversion therapy…
Spider-Man: Ooh, boobies!
White Queen: *punch!*
Spider-Man: Ooh, boobies!
Volcana: *punch!*
Spider-Man: Ooh, boobies!
Superia: *punch!*
So when he gets home…
Mary-Jane: Hey Peter, wanna fool around? …Peter, why did you jump across the room and web me to the bed?
Peter: Uh… foreplay?
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