Chapter 9: The Weekend (Part 5)

Gwen and MJ were too busy receiving oxygen from the paramedics to comment on the shitty New York accent, just nodding at him. He nodded back and quickly swung back into the subway station to see if anyone else was trapped, or if there was any evidence pointing to a cause of the subway explosion. There were only a few more people that needed to get gotten out, so he headed back down the subway to hunt for evidence. Unfortunately for him, he didn't find very much evidence, other than a few pieces of shrapnel, which pointed at the possibility of a bomb.

He left, checking in with Gwen to make sure she and MJ were okay. She picked up on the third ring. "Hello?" Her voice was hoarse, probably from the smoke inhalation.

"Gwen? Hey, I heard about the subway explosion. I heard a subway in the background from the call earlier, so I wanted to make sure you and MJ were okay." He perched on a roof above the paramedic checkpoint, actually seeing for himself if they were ok, which he could tell they were.

"Oh, yeah, we're okay Pete. Just gonna take the weekend easy." From his perch, he watched MJ perk up, much like a dog when they hear "Walkies?" and he laughed a little. "I'm fine, MJ's fine, we're all fine. I'll text you later, Pete." He heard the beginnings of a kiss sound, but he watched MJ's hand fly out like a fucking bullet and send Gwen's phone to the ground, with a new crack right across the screen. "HEY!"

From his perch, he watched MJ crouch down to the phone, balancing on her left hand so she didn't fall over from her overall weakness from the smoke, and giggled. "We're ok, Tiger. Don't worry about us." He watched her play keepaway with Gwen for a second before he got a text from Gwen's phone. "That's my number, Peter. Text me sometime. Who knows? Maybe you'll hit the jackpot?" Unfortunately for Gwen, MJ managed to get in the kiss sound, capping off the call with a crisp, wet "Mwah!" sound.

Peter sighed as he hung up after MJ, logging her number into his phone before he sat down next to a stairwell near him. "Women, oof." He ran a tired hand across his face, dropping his facemask and goggles for a second. "This is tiring. Keeping my identity secret while I try to balance being Peter Parker AND Spider-Man. I do it for a reason, a very valid one, but that doesn't make it any easier to do." He thought aloud, slowly replacing his facemask and goggles. He was heading home, he'd had enough for the day.

Or, he would have, if a figure didn't leap from the stairwell and onto him. His spider sense didn't go off, which meant it wasn't dangerous. This was proved right when he couldn't breathe past a pair of black lips, attached to the face of Laura Kinney.

Peter caught what breath he could once she decided her tongue had had enough fun. "Hi Spidey. Just wanted to say bye for a bit."

Peter's eyebrow rose. "Where are you going?" Seconds after he said it, knowledge...or memories?...trickled into his brain about the X-Men.

"Upstate. Don't worry, once we're older I'll officially make you my mate. But until then," She kissed him again and slipped something into the pocket of his jeans, buttoning back up the little cover he sewed above it and all of his other pockets. "make sure you use that, and not your hand." She gave a weird pat to his crotch before she ran off, leaving a rather confused and hormonal Peter Parker in her wake.

He checked what she had slipped into his pockets and found a pair of black panties, eliciting a fierce blush from him and a hasty re-pocketing of said garment. He swung home like the devil was chasing him, abso-fucking-lutely done with today, for the rest of today.

When he got home, he shoved the panties deeeeeep into a drawer, where he would possibly forget about them, and got into a nice cold shower to cleanse his teenage mind from delving into situations he wasn't CLOSE to being mature enough for.

He really should have known not to get comfortable with life though, as he walked out of his bathroom to find a rather goth-looking woman sitting on his bed. She wore black lace over almost her entire body, and her face looked like the most beautiful skull and cheekbones ever, as weird and creepy as that sounds. She smiled at him, standing up. She looked to be roughly his age, maybe a year older. She moved forward into a hug, forcing Peter to A) Accidentally let go of the towel wrapped around his waist, and B) Acknowledge the massive pillows on her chest. If he thought MJ had big tits, which she did at a proud D cup, then this lady put her to shame with some big honkin' double-D's. Peter's hands raised in a "I surrender" gesture. "Uuuuuuhmmmmmm... Can I help you?"

The woman went to arm's reach with him. "Actually yes. First off, good evening, my name is Lady Death, or just Death, and I am the reason you currently exist in this world, &#*@%$^. Ooo, that doesn't sound right, but you know what I mean. And secondly, how you can help me..." She snapped her pretty, ash-grey fingers, and the lace dress that draped across her entire body just kind of faded out of existence. "...is by showing a goddess why humans love sex so much." She didn't seem to be asking, as much as she was telling him how he was going to help her. If his hormones weren't already all over the place, he probably would've noped the fuck out. But, between MJ's kiss sound earlier, Laura's actions, and now this woman who apparently was death incarnate who basically dissolved her clothes and told him to have sex with her...

...he didn't really have it in him to say no.