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seriousficTitle: Spidey’s got a girlfriend!
Fandom: Marvel Adventures Avengers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,168
Characters/Pairings: Peter/MJ, the Avengers, Dr. Doom
Summary: The Avengers were born to handle emergencies no single superhero could withstand, like alien invasions, doomsday plots, and Spider-Man getting lucky (!).
Peter pulled off his mask and instantly recoiled from the smell. It felt (and smelled) like he’d spent the last week in costume. Between Doc Ock’s crime spree, the Avengers going against a Skrull invasion, and his college courses, it seemed like forever since he’d had a chance to unwind. He’d even done his homework in costume, in the half-hour he’d had between missions. Though, admittedly, he was probably the only student in physics class who could ask both Tony Stark and Bruce Banner for help with number nine.
“Peter, we going to dinner or what?”
With a shock of realization not unlike his spider-sense (through a bullhorn), Peter realized that while he’d been stripping off his costume, Mary-Jane had been searching his apartment for him. Yeah, giving her a key, probably a mistake. It was just that when he’d been moving in, she’d looked at him and teased him a little about it and so what could he do but say “mi apartmento is su apartmento” and get her her own key?
Moreover, on Monday he’d agreed to take her out to eat while they discussed their class project. That appointment had been, what, twenty minutes ago? He remembered leaving his cell-phone behind while they went up against the Super-Skrull. She must’ve gotten worried, headed over to his apartment, let herself in, and now she was at the door to his bedroom while he had his spider-shorts around his ankles.
The doorknob started to turn.
Peter was no Quicksilver, but he managed. In a flash he kicked his various spider-costume bits under the bed, jumped onto the mattress, and grabbed one of Aunt May’s flowers from a vase and stuck it between his teeth. Before he could rethink that (flowers were considered inedible for a reason), Mary-Jane was standing in his doorway.
Her eyes widened impressively at seeing Peter lying across his bed, half-naked, a flower in his teeth, grinning cheesily. Then her mouth dropped open. Peter wondered if he had any big bruises showing. Then he realized it was probably the spider-muscles. He’d gotten pretty good at hiding those.
“I was thinking we could eat in,” Peter said around the flower, struggling mightily to keep a straight face. One second for Mary-Jane to burst into laughter, then he’d explain it was all a bad joke, he was just getting dressed, and really, shouldn’t she have knocked?
Only, Mary-Jane didn’t so much laugh as reach behind her back and pull down her dress’s zipper. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made me feel overdressed.”
Breasts. Tits. Boobs. Gazongas. Sweater monkeys. Funbags. Peter ran out of euphemisms and started making up new ones like “humina-huminas” as Mary-Jane stepped out of her dress and neatly left it hanging from the door on a stray hanger. She laid down across from him, wearing nothing but a bra. Well, she probably had something on below the waist, but Peter didn’t want to get ahead of himself. MOABs. Super balloons. Tomax and Xamot.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to make your move?” Mary-Jane took the flower from between Peter’s teeth and sniffed it. Pity, Peter was pretty sure that was the only thing keeping his teeth from chattering. “And I never imagined you’d be so… bold. It’s like you’re a Scottish lord about to ravish his naughty chambermaid.”
Peter had, in point of fact, never felt less ravishing-Scottish-lord, but she didn’t need to know that. One thing being on the Avengers had taught him—always seize the initiative. “Well, all that sexual tension was getting to be a bit much, wasn’t it?” That was what you called trying not to look at someone’s breasts all the time, right, sexual tension?
“Tell me about it! I was just about ready to burst! We’re great friends, we love spending time together, I’m hot as hell and apparently so are you.”
”I’ve been… running.” Usually away from giant insects, dinosaurs, or Giant-Girl after someone eats her muffins.
“It’s like some fairy tale. I go for the sweet, charming, funny guy and I find out he has the body of Brad Pitt.”
“Yes, it’s somewhere in my attic.”
Mary-Jane laughed. “Enough jokes, Pete. Maybe you were a monk in a former life, but I’ve been waiting for this so long I’m not even going to make you buy me dinner first.”
“That’s good. I think I could just about manage to buy you a hot dog, if you like them plain.” (He really had to have a talk with Tony about some kind of expense account. If anyone would believe taking a hot redhead out would make you a better crime-fighter, it’d be Tony. And oh, hey, was she talking about sex? It sounded a lot like she was talking about sex.)
“I said enough with the jokes.” Mary-Jane was smiling as she said it. “What do I have to do to shut you up?”
Many had asked themselves that question, and they usually settled on trying to burn, stab, crush, or otherwise mangle Spider-Man. Mary-Jane Watson, on the other hand, found a much more effective way. (Sex.)
***
“Peter! Peter! Peter!”
“Uh, are you trying to get my attention or just screaming my name?”
“Yes. I would really love to—mmh!—set a world record for—ah!—oh!—but—oh god—you’re going to give me a heart attack!”
“Just one… more… second…”
“Ah!”
“Ghasfhl!”
Peter rolled off her, staring up at the ceiling with abject thankfulness. After a few moments, he wiped the doofy grin off his face. Mary-Jane Watson. Wow.
Mary-Jane began clearing the many sweaty strands of hair from her face. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
Tony said that’s what he did to Fran Drescher just to hear what sound she’d make. “Here and there.”
“Remind me to thank here and there.” After a bit of difficulty with Peter not knowing what she was doing, Mary-Jane got Peter to spoon with her. “You owe me dinner.”
“And now I want to know what buying you dessert gets me.”
“Ask me in five minutes.” Mary-Jane took the latest in a series of deep breaths. “You mind getting me a glass of water? I think it’d be unfair to ask my legs to carry me to the kitchen after that.”
“Sure thing.”
Peter gave her a quick peck and Mary-Jane turned it into something slower before letting him go. For a few moments, she stared up at the ceiling with abject thankfulness. Peter Parker. Who knew?
Peter came back with a bottle of champagne, stopping only to make a panicked sound and kick his mask under the bed. He poured for both of them into Dixie cups, toasted her, and they drank.
“Mmm, this is a good year. Where’d you get this?” Mary-Jane asked.
“I rescued a vineyard from lava monsters. They gave it to me on the house.”
“Stop!” Mary-Jane laughed. “You’re gonna make it come out my nose!”
Peter sagged against the bed, suddenly troubled.
“Hey, I’m sorry. You’d kick lava monster ass, I’m sure.” Mary-Jane squeezed his bicep.
“It’s not that. I was just… I don’t want to get all clingy, but does that mean we’re dating now?”
“Is that you asking?”
Peter smiled and buried his face in her hair. “Mary-Jane Watson, you wanna go out with me?”
“Why, yes, Peter Parker, I so definitely would.”
Peter rolled back onto his side of the bed.
“And you’re in luck, I’m free this evening. What do you say we hop in the shower, I show you what you can get for buying me dessert, then we go out to Antonio’s, because that project is not going to do itself.”
Peter put a hand on her shoulder when she started to rise. “I was just asking because I wanted to be sure if that was a one-time thing or not.”
“Peter, trust me, nothing about that thing was ‘one time’.”
“It’s just… ugh.” He flopped back down. “I never really expected this to come up. Maybe some day, but… I half-expected it’d just be with another hero and then it’d be different since we’d both be…” Peter sat up. “MJ, there’s something I really need to tell you. And I probably should’ve told you sooner and definitely before I slept with you,” super-definitely before I told Logan, “but better late than never, right?”
Mary-Jane knelt across from him, taking one of his gesturing hands and stroking it gently. “Peter, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I like you a lot. Whatever it is, I swear I’ll try to understand.”
“Alright… don’t freak out?”
Mary-Jane crossed her heart.
“Okay…” Peter bit his lip. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually said this out loud…” He leaned in close to her, as if he were afraid someone might overhear. “I’m Spider-Man.”
Mary-Jane leaned in closer. “I know.”
“You…” Peter reared up, “know? And you still want to go out with me, knowing that there are hundreds of maniacs who want to kill me and would use the people I love to…” Peter stopped himself. “Well, I mean, probably only dozens, at most…”
“Peter, that’s part of why I like you! You’re a hero! You’ve got the coolest job in the world, you hang out with Captain America, and you’re still the most down-to-earth, mature, responsible guy I know.”
“But! How?”
"Well, once you stop assuming you’re just some nebbish, mild-mannered photographer, it’s pretty easy. I’ve always thought there was more to you than meets the eye, than all these coincidences start piling up around you. So I asked around and pretty soon the pieces all fell into place. Plus, this one time I came in here to do your laundry for you and I found your costume in your sock drawer. It was suspiciously well-made.”
“You did my laundry?”
“You seemed like you could use the help. I’ve also been putting fresh apples in your refrigerator.”
“They’re delicious.”
“Thanks, my aunt grows them. She sends me a box every week, I could never eat all of them on my own. I think she wants me to live on apples. When my family visited her place on vacation, she would feed us apple crisps and apple pie and apple cider…”
Peter hugged Mary-Jane tightly, kissing every inch of skin he could. “You. Are. Incredible. How could I not have seen this? This is like a dream come true. In fact, this is usually about the part where I woke up.”
***
Peter woke up. He looked around. He and the rest of the Avengers were in Doom’s castle, still chained up, still working on an escape plan. He hummed to himself as he examined his manacles.
Tony frowned as he heard the tune. “’I could’ve danced all night’?”
“And still have begged for more.” Peter started humming again as he took a closer look at his chains.
“Webhead, we’re literally hanging from the walls, waiting for Doom to shoot us fulla lasers,” Logan growled. “What’s got you so happy?”
“Just trying to be optimistic. Don’t you think everything’s going to turn out alright?”
“No, I think you’ll probably live.”
“Me too!”
“Spider-Man’s got the right attitude,” Captain America said. “Everyone keep faith in ourselves and each other, and we’ll get out of here in no time.”
“Touching words, my dear captain,” Doctor Doom said, his armor clanging as he descended into the dungeon. “But unfettered optimism is no match for cold, metal doom. What is that infernal humming?”
“He’s expressing himself!” Giant-Girl said defensively.
“Is it bothering you? I can stop.” Peter leaned back against the wall with a smile that was obvious even through his mask.
“Is there something about your doom that you find amusing, young and callow peasant?”
“Besides the way you keep working the word ‘doom’ into every sentence? Nah, I’m just in a good mood. By the way, you’ve got a lovely country, despotism aside.”
“Thank you. I’ve worked quite hard on it.”
“It shows. And with the despotism.”
“Now then, imperious fools,” Doom swung around, his green cloak swirling impressively. “You shall reveal to me all that you know, that your knowledge may be bent to the greater glory of Doom, and in return, your deaths shall be merciful and dignified. Does anyone else hear a tapping?”
“Oh, sorry, me again.” Peter stopped tapping the wall. “This brick is really acoustic, it’s insane. I wonder what it’d be like to have a band practice in here.”
Doom regarded him. “Are you mocking me?”
“Nah, you seem cool. I mean, you’re acting like a dick now, but by Wrecking Crew standards, you’re really switched on.”
Dr. Doom stalked to Iron Man. “What does his inane babble pertain to?”
“We’ve been asking ourselves that same question for so very, very long.”
“Is it some form of secret code? Are you hatching an escape plan!?”
“Well, yeah. Obviously.” Peter laughed. “We’re not using me to do it, but we’re superheroes, you’ve locked us up, clearly we’re working on ways to escape. And to be honest, I realize the manacles are more atmospheric than just shooting us in the head while we were unconscious, but c’mon. We’re gonna escape. It’s how we do it.”
“Impossible!” Dr. Doom pointed grandly at Spider-Man. “Observe the flawless construct of the electro-manacles that hold you! Even if you were to cut off your thumb, the manacles would automatically constrict to hold you! And should Dr. Banner access his monosyllabic alter-ego, the manacles would expand to maintain their grip!”
“Hey, what if I filled them with webbing?”
“What?”
“Never mind, I’ll check.” Spider-Man curled his middle and ring fingers inward. Webbing shot out of his wrists, building up against the manacles, which automatically expanded to compensate. Before they could settle, Spider-Man had slipped out of his manacles and landed on the floor in a crouch. “Oh, hey, cool, I’m the first guy to break out. I’m never the first guy to break out! Looks like everything’s coming up Spider.”
“Vainglorious dolt!” Doom’s gauntlet charged with energy. “I shall end your good cheer along with your life!”
Spider-Man dodged out of the way. “Dude, you are such a downer. That should be your name. Dr. Downer.”
Dr. Doom fired another blast. This time when Spider-Man dodged, the blast hit the electro-manacles’ generator.
“Oh doom,” Dr. Doom muttered as the Avengers landed on their feet.
***
Peter switched the radio to a station playing a boppy pop song on the Quinjet ride home. Because he was monarch of Latveria, they hadn’t been able to bring Dr. Doom to justice, but they had destroyed his doomsday machine and then Logan had accidentally tripped Bruce Banner down a flight of stairs on the way out. It’d taken them a while, and several scrapped Doombots, to calm down his greener half.
“Excellent work, Peter,” Steve said. “You’ve really come into your own on this mission. I don’t think anyone will argue that you should pick the restaurant we go to for the post-mission celebration.”
“Chocolate sundaes again?” Logan growled.
“I’d love to, Cap, but I’ve got a… a pressing engagement.”
“More homework?” Tony frowned. “They’re working you to death. I’ll do it, you can use my virtual-reality teaching tool to catch up later. You can have your pick of holographic tutor, Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Aniston, or Brad Pitt.”
The Avengers glanced at Tony.
“What? Brad Pitt seems like a cool guy.”
“No, it’s not school, I’m just gonna be busy tonight.”
“Probably has to get home in time to catch Battlestar Galactica,” Logan taunted gruffly.
“I wouldn’t be watching that even if it were still on the air. I mean, Ellen Tigh? What was that? No, I’ve just got stuff.”
“Like what kind of stuff?” Steve asked, his paternal concern hard enough to brook no dissent.
“Just… stuff. Look, Doom’s doomsday machine will be just as doomed tomorrow. Let’s have the celebration then. Then Hank can come along.”
Giant-Girl smiled. “It would do him some good to get away from his microscopes. He’s started naming his ants.”
“Then it’s settled!” Peter said, starting for the washroom when Steve grabbed his shoulder.
“I’m still a bit curious what you’re up to.”
“It’s private, alright?”
“Son, is it the drugs?”
“Ah, for christ’s sake!” Logan jerked out of his nap. “Isn’t it obvious the boy’s been getting some trim? He reeks of redhead!”
“By the Bright Lady!” Storm exclaimed.
“Really? Does that really call for a ‘by the Bright Lady’?” Peter asked.
“Who is she? Is she cute?” Giant-Girl demanded.
“Yes, she’s very—cute. But I’m not telling you who she is because you’ll jinx it.”
“Jinx it?” Storm asked. “Us?”
“What you need to do is take her out to a nice ballgame,” Steve said. “Or you could take her out to a hootenanny. Do kids still do that?”
“My aunt didn’t even go to hootenannies.”
“Pete, you’re in luck.” Tony put an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “You just listen to me and we’ll have this gal eating out of your asshole.”
“I… really don’t want her to do that.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“Pretty girls have nice hair!” Hulk yelled. “Tell pretty girl her hair is nice… soft… like big-girl…” Hulk began to stroke Jan’s hair.
“Hey!” Jan slapped at him. “What’ve I told you about calling me ‘big-girl’?”
“In my native country, a boy would slay a leopard and give its hide to a girl he wished to marry,” Storm said. Everyone looked around uncomfortably. “That was a joke.”
“Leave the kid alone. Can’t you see he doesn’t want your advice?” Logan said, trying to get back to his nap.
“Thank you, Wolverine.”
“He can screw things up perfectly fine on his own.”
“This isn’t getting screwed up! She’s the One. I can tell.”
“The One!” Jan cried, growing a few feet in excitement. “Oh-em-gee, tell me everything about her! Don’t make me beat it out of you! I’ll do it!”
“She will,” Tony confirmed. “She used me as a cowbell when I wouldn’t set her up with George Clooney.”
“All you had to do was tell him I liked his movies!”
Peter stood up. “Alright, everyone, your attention please! I appreciate that you all want to help, but my life can’t be Norse gods and alien invasions 24/7! I need some downtime. So please, just let me have this one thing to myself.”
“Alright, team, you heard the man,” Cap barked over Jan’s protest. “I’m sure we all have work we could be doing instead of prying into Spider-Man’s personal life.”
As it would turn out, members of the idle rich (like Jan) and African weather goddesses (like Ororo) didn’t have heavy workloads.
Will Jan and her hetero life partner Ororo find out who Spider-Man is dating? Is Mary-Jane the One? Does Tony wear ladies’ undergarments beneath his armor? The answer to all those questions, except maybe the one about skimpy thong-cut panties, next time! Same spider-header, same spider-journal!
Author's note: It's been a while since I've read MA Spider-Man, so I guess you could count this as future fic. I borrowed canon from pre-marriage Spidey, where he and Mary-Jane have dated some, but had circumstances conspire against them, and now Mary-Jane's back in town after a prolonged absense and she and Peter have been playing the "will they or won't they?" game. MJ knowing Peter's secret is also from the 616 universe. So in case their hook-up seemed a little abrupt, canonically, Peter could've asked her to marry him and she would've said yes.
To be continued... as soon as you follow this fake cut!
Fandom: Marvel Adventures Avengers
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,168
Characters/Pairings: Peter/MJ, the Avengers, Dr. Doom
Summary: The Avengers were born to handle emergencies no single superhero could withstand, like alien invasions, doomsday plots, and Spider-Man getting lucky (!).
Peter pulled off his mask and instantly recoiled from the smell. It felt (and smelled) like he’d spent the last week in costume. Between Doc Ock’s crime spree, the Avengers going against a Skrull invasion, and his college courses, it seemed like forever since he’d had a chance to unwind. He’d even done his homework in costume, in the half-hour he’d had between missions. Though, admittedly, he was probably the only student in physics class who could ask both Tony Stark and Bruce Banner for help with number nine.
“Peter, we going to dinner or what?”
With a shock of realization not unlike his spider-sense (through a bullhorn), Peter realized that while he’d been stripping off his costume, Mary-Jane had been searching his apartment for him. Yeah, giving her a key, probably a mistake. It was just that when he’d been moving in, she’d looked at him and teased him a little about it and so what could he do but say “mi apartmento is su apartmento” and get her her own key?
Moreover, on Monday he’d agreed to take her out to eat while they discussed their class project. That appointment had been, what, twenty minutes ago? He remembered leaving his cell-phone behind while they went up against the Super-Skrull. She must’ve gotten worried, headed over to his apartment, let herself in, and now she was at the door to his bedroom while he had his spider-shorts around his ankles.
The doorknob started to turn.
Peter was no Quicksilver, but he managed. In a flash he kicked his various spider-costume bits under the bed, jumped onto the mattress, and grabbed one of Aunt May’s flowers from a vase and stuck it between his teeth. Before he could rethink that (flowers were considered inedible for a reason), Mary-Jane was standing in his doorway.
Her eyes widened impressively at seeing Peter lying across his bed, half-naked, a flower in his teeth, grinning cheesily. Then her mouth dropped open. Peter wondered if he had any big bruises showing. Then he realized it was probably the spider-muscles. He’d gotten pretty good at hiding those.
“I was thinking we could eat in,” Peter said around the flower, struggling mightily to keep a straight face. One second for Mary-Jane to burst into laughter, then he’d explain it was all a bad joke, he was just getting dressed, and really, shouldn’t she have knocked?
Only, Mary-Jane didn’t so much laugh as reach behind her back and pull down her dress’s zipper. “Well, it wouldn’t be the first time you’ve made me feel overdressed.”
Breasts. Tits. Boobs. Gazongas. Sweater monkeys. Funbags. Peter ran out of euphemisms and started making up new ones like “humina-huminas” as Mary-Jane stepped out of her dress and neatly left it hanging from the door on a stray hanger. She laid down across from him, wearing nothing but a bra. Well, she probably had something on below the waist, but Peter didn’t want to get ahead of himself. MOABs. Super balloons. Tomax and Xamot.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to make your move?” Mary-Jane took the flower from between Peter’s teeth and sniffed it. Pity, Peter was pretty sure that was the only thing keeping his teeth from chattering. “And I never imagined you’d be so… bold. It’s like you’re a Scottish lord about to ravish his naughty chambermaid.”
Peter had, in point of fact, never felt less ravishing-Scottish-lord, but she didn’t need to know that. One thing being on the Avengers had taught him—always seize the initiative. “Well, all that sexual tension was getting to be a bit much, wasn’t it?” That was what you called trying not to look at someone’s breasts all the time, right, sexual tension?
“Tell me about it! I was just about ready to burst! We’re great friends, we love spending time together, I’m hot as hell and apparently so are you.”
”I’ve been… running.” Usually away from giant insects, dinosaurs, or Giant-Girl after someone eats her muffins.
“It’s like some fairy tale. I go for the sweet, charming, funny guy and I find out he has the body of Brad Pitt.”
“Yes, it’s somewhere in my attic.”
Mary-Jane laughed. “Enough jokes, Pete. Maybe you were a monk in a former life, but I’ve been waiting for this so long I’m not even going to make you buy me dinner first.”
“That’s good. I think I could just about manage to buy you a hot dog, if you like them plain.” (He really had to have a talk with Tony about some kind of expense account. If anyone would believe taking a hot redhead out would make you a better crime-fighter, it’d be Tony. And oh, hey, was she talking about sex? It sounded a lot like she was talking about sex.)
“I said enough with the jokes.” Mary-Jane was smiling as she said it. “What do I have to do to shut you up?”
Many had asked themselves that question, and they usually settled on trying to burn, stab, crush, or otherwise mangle Spider-Man. Mary-Jane Watson, on the other hand, found a much more effective way. (Sex.)
***
“Peter! Peter! Peter!”
“Uh, are you trying to get my attention or just screaming my name?”
“Yes. I would really love to—mmh!—set a world record for—ah!—oh!—but—oh god—you’re going to give me a heart attack!”
“Just one… more… second…”
“Ah!”
“Ghasfhl!”
Peter rolled off her, staring up at the ceiling with abject thankfulness. After a few moments, he wiped the doofy grin off his face. Mary-Jane Watson. Wow.
Mary-Jane began clearing the many sweaty strands of hair from her face. “Where’d you learn to do that?”
Tony said that’s what he did to Fran Drescher just to hear what sound she’d make. “Here and there.”
“Remind me to thank here and there.” After a bit of difficulty with Peter not knowing what she was doing, Mary-Jane got Peter to spoon with her. “You owe me dinner.”
“And now I want to know what buying you dessert gets me.”
“Ask me in five minutes.” Mary-Jane took the latest in a series of deep breaths. “You mind getting me a glass of water? I think it’d be unfair to ask my legs to carry me to the kitchen after that.”
“Sure thing.”
Peter gave her a quick peck and Mary-Jane turned it into something slower before letting him go. For a few moments, she stared up at the ceiling with abject thankfulness. Peter Parker. Who knew?
Peter came back with a bottle of champagne, stopping only to make a panicked sound and kick his mask under the bed. He poured for both of them into Dixie cups, toasted her, and they drank.
“Mmm, this is a good year. Where’d you get this?” Mary-Jane asked.
“I rescued a vineyard from lava monsters. They gave it to me on the house.”
“Stop!” Mary-Jane laughed. “You’re gonna make it come out my nose!”
Peter sagged against the bed, suddenly troubled.
“Hey, I’m sorry. You’d kick lava monster ass, I’m sure.” Mary-Jane squeezed his bicep.
“It’s not that. I was just… I don’t want to get all clingy, but does that mean we’re dating now?”
“Is that you asking?”
Peter smiled and buried his face in her hair. “Mary-Jane Watson, you wanna go out with me?”
“Why, yes, Peter Parker, I so definitely would.”
Peter rolled back onto his side of the bed.
“And you’re in luck, I’m free this evening. What do you say we hop in the shower, I show you what you can get for buying me dessert, then we go out to Antonio’s, because that project is not going to do itself.”
Peter put a hand on her shoulder when she started to rise. “I was just asking because I wanted to be sure if that was a one-time thing or not.”
“Peter, trust me, nothing about that thing was ‘one time’.”
“It’s just… ugh.” He flopped back down. “I never really expected this to come up. Maybe some day, but… I half-expected it’d just be with another hero and then it’d be different since we’d both be…” Peter sat up. “MJ, there’s something I really need to tell you. And I probably should’ve told you sooner and definitely before I slept with you,” super-definitely before I told Logan, “but better late than never, right?”
Mary-Jane knelt across from him, taking one of his gesturing hands and stroking it gently. “Peter, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I like you a lot. Whatever it is, I swear I’ll try to understand.”
“Alright… don’t freak out?”
Mary-Jane crossed her heart.
“Okay…” Peter bit his lip. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually said this out loud…” He leaned in close to her, as if he were afraid someone might overhear. “I’m Spider-Man.”
Mary-Jane leaned in closer. “I know.”
“You…” Peter reared up, “know? And you still want to go out with me, knowing that there are hundreds of maniacs who want to kill me and would use the people I love to…” Peter stopped himself. “Well, I mean, probably only dozens, at most…”
“Peter, that’s part of why I like you! You’re a hero! You’ve got the coolest job in the world, you hang out with Captain America, and you’re still the most down-to-earth, mature, responsible guy I know.”
“But! How?”
"Well, once you stop assuming you’re just some nebbish, mild-mannered photographer, it’s pretty easy. I’ve always thought there was more to you than meets the eye, than all these coincidences start piling up around you. So I asked around and pretty soon the pieces all fell into place. Plus, this one time I came in here to do your laundry for you and I found your costume in your sock drawer. It was suspiciously well-made.”
“You did my laundry?”
“You seemed like you could use the help. I’ve also been putting fresh apples in your refrigerator.”
“They’re delicious.”
“Thanks, my aunt grows them. She sends me a box every week, I could never eat all of them on my own. I think she wants me to live on apples. When my family visited her place on vacation, she would feed us apple crisps and apple pie and apple cider…”
Peter hugged Mary-Jane tightly, kissing every inch of skin he could. “You. Are. Incredible. How could I not have seen this? This is like a dream come true. In fact, this is usually about the part where I woke up.”
***
Peter woke up. He looked around. He and the rest of the Avengers were in Doom’s castle, still chained up, still working on an escape plan. He hummed to himself as he examined his manacles.
Tony frowned as he heard the tune. “’I could’ve danced all night’?”
“And still have begged for more.” Peter started humming again as he took a closer look at his chains.
“Webhead, we’re literally hanging from the walls, waiting for Doom to shoot us fulla lasers,” Logan growled. “What’s got you so happy?”
“Just trying to be optimistic. Don’t you think everything’s going to turn out alright?”
“No, I think you’ll probably live.”
“Me too!”
“Spider-Man’s got the right attitude,” Captain America said. “Everyone keep faith in ourselves and each other, and we’ll get out of here in no time.”
“Touching words, my dear captain,” Doctor Doom said, his armor clanging as he descended into the dungeon. “But unfettered optimism is no match for cold, metal doom. What is that infernal humming?”
“He’s expressing himself!” Giant-Girl said defensively.
“Is it bothering you? I can stop.” Peter leaned back against the wall with a smile that was obvious even through his mask.
“Is there something about your doom that you find amusing, young and callow peasant?”
“Besides the way you keep working the word ‘doom’ into every sentence? Nah, I’m just in a good mood. By the way, you’ve got a lovely country, despotism aside.”
“Thank you. I’ve worked quite hard on it.”
“It shows. And with the despotism.”
“Now then, imperious fools,” Doom swung around, his green cloak swirling impressively. “You shall reveal to me all that you know, that your knowledge may be bent to the greater glory of Doom, and in return, your deaths shall be merciful and dignified. Does anyone else hear a tapping?”
“Oh, sorry, me again.” Peter stopped tapping the wall. “This brick is really acoustic, it’s insane. I wonder what it’d be like to have a band practice in here.”
Doom regarded him. “Are you mocking me?”
“Nah, you seem cool. I mean, you’re acting like a dick now, but by Wrecking Crew standards, you’re really switched on.”
Dr. Doom stalked to Iron Man. “What does his inane babble pertain to?”
“We’ve been asking ourselves that same question for so very, very long.”
“Is it some form of secret code? Are you hatching an escape plan!?”
“Well, yeah. Obviously.” Peter laughed. “We’re not using me to do it, but we’re superheroes, you’ve locked us up, clearly we’re working on ways to escape. And to be honest, I realize the manacles are more atmospheric than just shooting us in the head while we were unconscious, but c’mon. We’re gonna escape. It’s how we do it.”
“Impossible!” Dr. Doom pointed grandly at Spider-Man. “Observe the flawless construct of the electro-manacles that hold you! Even if you were to cut off your thumb, the manacles would automatically constrict to hold you! And should Dr. Banner access his monosyllabic alter-ego, the manacles would expand to maintain their grip!”
“Hey, what if I filled them with webbing?”
“What?”
“Never mind, I’ll check.” Spider-Man curled his middle and ring fingers inward. Webbing shot out of his wrists, building up against the manacles, which automatically expanded to compensate. Before they could settle, Spider-Man had slipped out of his manacles and landed on the floor in a crouch. “Oh, hey, cool, I’m the first guy to break out. I’m never the first guy to break out! Looks like everything’s coming up Spider.”
“Vainglorious dolt!” Doom’s gauntlet charged with energy. “I shall end your good cheer along with your life!”
Spider-Man dodged out of the way. “Dude, you are such a downer. That should be your name. Dr. Downer.”
Dr. Doom fired another blast. This time when Spider-Man dodged, the blast hit the electro-manacles’ generator.
“Oh doom,” Dr. Doom muttered as the Avengers landed on their feet.
***
Peter switched the radio to a station playing a boppy pop song on the Quinjet ride home. Because he was monarch of Latveria, they hadn’t been able to bring Dr. Doom to justice, but they had destroyed his doomsday machine and then Logan had accidentally tripped Bruce Banner down a flight of stairs on the way out. It’d taken them a while, and several scrapped Doombots, to calm down his greener half.
“Excellent work, Peter,” Steve said. “You’ve really come into your own on this mission. I don’t think anyone will argue that you should pick the restaurant we go to for the post-mission celebration.”
“Chocolate sundaes again?” Logan growled.
“I’d love to, Cap, but I’ve got a… a pressing engagement.”
“More homework?” Tony frowned. “They’re working you to death. I’ll do it, you can use my virtual-reality teaching tool to catch up later. You can have your pick of holographic tutor, Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Aniston, or Brad Pitt.”
The Avengers glanced at Tony.
“What? Brad Pitt seems like a cool guy.”
“No, it’s not school, I’m just gonna be busy tonight.”
“Probably has to get home in time to catch Battlestar Galactica,” Logan taunted gruffly.
“I wouldn’t be watching that even if it were still on the air. I mean, Ellen Tigh? What was that? No, I’ve just got stuff.”
“Like what kind of stuff?” Steve asked, his paternal concern hard enough to brook no dissent.
“Just… stuff. Look, Doom’s doomsday machine will be just as doomed tomorrow. Let’s have the celebration then. Then Hank can come along.”
Giant-Girl smiled. “It would do him some good to get away from his microscopes. He’s started naming his ants.”
“Then it’s settled!” Peter said, starting for the washroom when Steve grabbed his shoulder.
“I’m still a bit curious what you’re up to.”
“It’s private, alright?”
“Son, is it the drugs?”
“Ah, for christ’s sake!” Logan jerked out of his nap. “Isn’t it obvious the boy’s been getting some trim? He reeks of redhead!”
“By the Bright Lady!” Storm exclaimed.
“Really? Does that really call for a ‘by the Bright Lady’?” Peter asked.
“Who is she? Is she cute?” Giant-Girl demanded.
“Yes, she’s very—cute. But I’m not telling you who she is because you’ll jinx it.”
“Jinx it?” Storm asked. “Us?”
“What you need to do is take her out to a nice ballgame,” Steve said. “Or you could take her out to a hootenanny. Do kids still do that?”
“My aunt didn’t even go to hootenannies.”
“Pete, you’re in luck.” Tony put an arm around Peter’s shoulders. “You just listen to me and we’ll have this gal eating out of your asshole.”
“I… really don’t want her to do that.”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“Pretty girls have nice hair!” Hulk yelled. “Tell pretty girl her hair is nice… soft… like big-girl…” Hulk began to stroke Jan’s hair.
“Hey!” Jan slapped at him. “What’ve I told you about calling me ‘big-girl’?”
“In my native country, a boy would slay a leopard and give its hide to a girl he wished to marry,” Storm said. Everyone looked around uncomfortably. “That was a joke.”
“Leave the kid alone. Can’t you see he doesn’t want your advice?” Logan said, trying to get back to his nap.
“Thank you, Wolverine.”
“He can screw things up perfectly fine on his own.”
“This isn’t getting screwed up! She’s the One. I can tell.”
“The One!” Jan cried, growing a few feet in excitement. “Oh-em-gee, tell me everything about her! Don’t make me beat it out of you! I’ll do it!”
“She will,” Tony confirmed. “She used me as a cowbell when I wouldn’t set her up with George Clooney.”
“All you had to do was tell him I liked his movies!”
Peter stood up. “Alright, everyone, your attention please! I appreciate that you all want to help, but my life can’t be Norse gods and alien invasions 24/7! I need some downtime. So please, just let me have this one thing to myself.”
“Alright, team, you heard the man,” Cap barked over Jan’s protest. “I’m sure we all have work we could be doing instead of prying into Spider-Man’s personal life.”
As it would turn out, members of the idle rich (like Jan) and African weather goddesses (like Ororo) didn’t have heavy workloads.
Will Jan and her hetero life partner Ororo find out who Spider-Man is dating? Is Mary-Jane the One? Does Tony wear ladies’ undergarments beneath his armor? The answer to all those questions, except maybe the one about skimpy thong-cut panties, next time! Same spider-header, same spider-journal!
Author's note: It's been a while since I've read MA Spider-Man, so I guess you could count this as future fic. I borrowed canon from pre-marriage Spidey, where he and Mary-Jane have dated some, but had circumstances conspire against them, and now Mary-Jane's back in town after a prolonged absense and she and Peter have been playing the "will they or won't they?" game. MJ knowing Peter's secret is also from the 616 universe. So in case their hook-up seemed a little abrupt, canonically, Peter could've asked her to marry him and she would've said yes.
To be continued... as soon as you follow this fake cut!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-08-20 02:53 pm (UTC)More more!
^__^
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Date: 2009-08-20 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-20 10:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-20 10:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-22 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-23 07:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-22 09:23 am (UTC)Favourite line that wasn't taken for the LJ cut? "Tony said that’s what he did to Fran Drescher just to hear what sound she’d make."
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Date: 2009-08-22 12:11 pm (UTC)Peter's banter was fantastic and was his awkward, trying to avoid the MJ topic. I chucked out loud at Peter's "I.. really don't want her to that."
All around brilliant, I hope there's more.
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Date: 2009-08-23 07:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-23 07:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-22 02:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-22 02:45 pm (UTC)Well, once you stop assuming lacks the open-quotation thing.
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Date: 2009-08-23 07:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-26 06:07 pm (UTC)Fantastic fic, though - I really can't wait for more!
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Date: 2009-08-24 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-25 07:26 am (UTC)And imagining the chaos when Wolvie outs Spidey's secret made me literally LOL. I feel so bad for the baby of the team when all his teammates express shock, and that 'the drugs' (OH CAP) was the probability that came to mind before 'girl troubles'.
It reminds me that comics were not put on earth so I can rail against writers and drama and what assholes all characters are. Thank you. *went out and bought some MA, read some scans, after reading this*