Spider-Man Mayhem

[Third Person's PoV] 

Peter leaned back against his car seat, his hand resting on the back of Felicia's head as she moved up and down by his lap.

After a few soft grunts, Felicia lifted her head, her throat shifting slightly as she swallowed. She wiped the corner of her mouth with a teasing grin, already mostly dressed, fastening the last buckle on her belt.

Using the rearview mirror, she adjusted her hair, chuckling with a satisfied smile.

Peter tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up.

"You still aren't satisfied, huh?" Felicia mused, placing a hand on her abdomen. "We've been at it for a while, and you surely released a lot… I can still feel it."

Peter looked away, a bit shy. "It's not my fault…"

Felicia laughed and patted his shoulder. "Well, lucky for you, you have three girlfriends to handle your needs. Count your blessings."

Peter stared straight at her and counted. "One."

Felicia blinked before bursting into laughter. "Pfft! God, you're so cheesy!"

She reached behind her seat, grabbed her bag, and slung it over her shoulder. "As fun as this was, I better get going," she said, opening the car door.

Before stepping out, she blew Peter a kiss. "Thanks for the amazing sex~"

Peter blushed slightly, but before he could respond, Felicia swung her legs out—only to nearly collapse, catching herself against the doorframe.

Her legs trembled as she held onto the car for support.

"Are… are you okay?" Peter asked, lips twitching as he fought back laughter. "Do you need help?"

Felicia held out a hand to stop him, her legs still shaky. "Don't. I got this."

She took one wobbly step, then another, before glancing back at Peter with a smug look. "See? I got this."

With that, she shut the door and carefully made her way around the car, heading toward her home.

"So worth it," she muttered as she fumbled for her keys, finally managing to get inside.

Peter, watching her from the driver's seat, sighed and shook his head in amusement. Then, just as he relaxed, his sense kicked in expanding past Felicia. His expression immediately changed.

Felicia's mother was inside. Sitting on the couch.

Peter tensed. Felicia, meanwhile, had just stepped through the door.

"Nope. Not my problem. I wish you luck!" Peter muttered, shifting into drive and peeling away.

Felicia froze as she spotted her mother, Lydia, lounging on the couch in a white dress shirt, the top slightly unbuttoned. Her hair was tied into a loose, messy bun, and a half-full glass of wine rested in her hand. Papers and folders were spread out in front of her.

"You're home…" Felicia stammered, cursing internally. The lingering pleasure still clouded her senses, making her oblivious to her mother's presence until it was too late.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Lydia raised an eyebrow. "Where else am I supposed to go?" Her gaze flickered over Felicia. "And why are you so sweaty?"

Felicia straightened. "I was training," she replied a little too quickly.

Lydia hummed in acknowledgment and returned to reading.

"Anyway, I'm gonna take a shower," Felicia announced, forcing herself to walk as steadily as possible.

Lydia, however, wasn't fooled. "And what's wrong with your legs?"

Felicia stiffened. "We were training legs. Guess I overdid it," she said awkwardly before disappearing toward her room.

Lydia nodded absentmindedly, eyes scanning the document in her hand—until her nose wrinkled slightly. A thought struck her, and she snapped her head in the direction Felicia had gone.

Narrowing her eyes, she muttered, "How suspicious… But surely not. I must be imagining it. She's far too young…"

Meanwhile, Felicia leaned back against her bedroom door, exhaling dramatically as she wiped her forehead.

"Ugh, I really need that shower," she groaned. "I have to get this smell off before she notices." 

…

Peter walked around his room, a towel draped over his wet hair, as he pulled on a pair of black sweatpants and a white tank top. He let out a yawn before glancing toward MJ's house, his enhanced senses picking up that she was still awake.

"I thought she said she was going to bed early... liar." He smirked.

He ran a hand through his damp hair before calling out, "Hey, Aria, did you get my car washed like I asked?"

His A.I. daughter responded immediately, her voice dripping with disgust. "I hate you. I honestly hate you so much. Making your daughter clean up after your—activities—you're gross! What kind of father does that?!"

Peter chuckled as he climbed out his window. "The kind who has an A.I. daughter, obviously. I wasn't cleaning all that up. That's why I have you."

"You're despicable."

"Love you too, honey~" Peter teased. "And thanks for your hard work."

Ignoring Aria's continued grumbling, Peter jogged down the street, moving effortlessly in the shadows. Reaching MJ's house, he scaled the tree outside her window with ease, knocking lightly to get her attention.

MJ turned from her laptop, her serious expression melting into a smile when she saw him. She walked over and opened the window, letting him in.

"I thought you said you were going to bed early," Peter said after pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

MJ sighed, rubbing the back of her head. "I was... but as I was leaving the base, I got a message from Jameson asking for photos of the Fantastic Four and coverage on that earthquake."

Peter nodded in understanding. "So you're writing a story for The Daily Bugle's online edition?"

"Yeah," MJ groaned. "There's so much to cover, and I don't think I'll have the time or energy for us tonight."

Peter smiled at how genuinely sad she sounded about that. He kissed the top of her head. "Wait here a second. I'll be right back."

Before she could ask why, he backtracked, running to his own room.

MJ blinked, confused, then shrugged and got back to work.

A few moments later, Peter climbed back through her window, this time with his laptop in hand.

"I'll help," he said with a grin.

"Eh?" MJ looked taken aback. "What do you—?"

"You'll have to guide me since I'm not exactly a reporter, but if we work together, we'll finish faster."

MJ stared at him, fingers hovering over her keyboard, before her expression softened into something warm. "God, I love you."

Peter smirked. "Amen? I didn't know we were having a prayer session."

MJ rolled her eyes. "I meant you, you lovable goof."

Peter chuckled as he climbed into bed beside her, kissing her again. "Good. Because I was starting to get jealous for a second."

He powered on his laptop, the surface covered in old stickers. "So, what do you want me to work on? The earthquake or the Fantastic Four?"

MJ tapped her keys in thought. "The earthquake. It's more straightforward. I'll handle the Fantastic Four piece since it's more opinion-based."

As Peter got to work, MJ explained what he needed to include. She continued typing her own article, but every so often, she stole glances at him—watching the way he focused, the way his fingers moved over the keyboard.

At some point, she leaned her head against his shoulder.

Peter tilted his head slightly, lowering his voice. "Are you really that tired?"

"Not really," MJ murmured, smiling. "Not anymore. Not with you here. I have all the energy I could possibly need."

Peter chuckled. "If you keep talking like that, I might actually get flustered."

MJ smirked. "That wouldn't be such a terrible sight." She kissed his cheek softly. "Thank you, Tiger. I'm lucky to have you."

Peter shook his head. "Trust me, Red, if anyone's lucky, it's me. Now, let's finish this quickly so I can spoil you for the rest of the night."

MJ's eyes lit up mischievously. "Now that's the best motivation I've heard in a long time." She cracked her knuckles with a determined grin.

And with that, they got to work.

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