Author's Note:
WORLDS ARE ABOUT TO COLLIDE!
Also, did anybody notice the lack of endnotes last chapter? Did ya? Hmmm?
XXIV
MJ was probably bothering Peter with all her texts. He was definitely the kind of boyfriend (and person) who wanted to hear from her all the time―whatever she felt the need to tell him, the most insignificant details of her day―but at the moment, she was largely utilizing him as her middleman. The texts were all effusive thanks and they were merely passing through Peter's virtual hands on their way to Romanoff, the architect of Mission: Get MJ a Mace. Yeah, Peter might've been getting the short end of the gratitude stick because MJ knew he fully supported her being armed with something super badass in case danger came a-calling. She couldn't help that she and Romanoff just had an understanding, a bond even, and that it had only been strengthened by her making good on that promise to see that MJ received her weapon of choice. It was a woman thing; her boyfriend couldn't understand, nor should he feel jealous.
She figured his pride could be slightly dented though, what with this being the first time on record that he couldn't, ahem, fulfill one of her needs himself. Oh, Peter. Sometimes, a girl had to go elsewhere for her bespoke Wakandan PDA. Ok, maybe naming it that was going too far, but it stood for Personal Defense Apparatus and she was pretty proud of herself for coming up with it (so was Princess Shuri, who MJ had made Peter tell). All other PDA she planned to engage in involved Peter. Maybe the mace would even make a sexy prop, as long as she kept the spikes retracted. And once she learned how to wave it around for more than five seconds without destroying something. (RIP toaster oven, bathroom shelf, and the section of wall right above the television. MJ had pointed out to her mom that the last incident could've been a lot worse.)
He did seem to appreciate the pictures she sent for him in between the texts for other people. She took selfies wearing a serious expression while posed like Rosie the Riveter, but with her mace clenched in her fist. She documented the gradually-lessening damage to the apartment and her mom's possessions. It was so great having Peter on this journey with her―learning to use a technologically-advanced weapon through trial and error was something she never would've guessed she'd share with him. He totally related and drew from a bottomless well of anecdotes of his clumsiness while getting the hang of the suits Tony had given him and the protocols installed therein.
They stayed up way too late talking two nights in a row (though Peter was supposed to be preparing for his English exam) after her mom threatened to make MJ return the mace if she didn't quit demolishing their home. Really, that was pretty fair of June, especially since she'd taken the whole mace thing so well in the first place, but it was still upsetting. MJ was already attached to her PDA; it made her feel closer to Peter because it gave them something new to talk about. It made her feel so close to him that, during one of those two late nights, she offered to name it after him (PDA was just its title and she felt it deserved something more personal). Peter was thrilled until they were texting the next day, he asked if her mace had a certain function, and she responded, Let me just grab Peter's shaft. What? That was part of the mace! The shaft! It was the long section where the controls were! She had to rescind on that name. Seeking to placate her boyfriend, she proposed calling it Luke―because Star Wars and junk―but apparently naming the object she'd made phallic reference to after another man wasn't acceptable either. Picky, picky.
(MJ had since named it 'Mace-y Gray' and if anyone wanted to challenge that, they could fight her. No, seriously. They could literally fight her, she'd like to see them fucking try it. This mace could really do a number on small appliances and living room walls.)
If only there were more settings in which it was appropriate to flaunt a mace. Romanoff and Princess Shuri were both willing to freak out about how cool her mace-ownership was whenever MJ incited said freak-out, but she did have some quantity of compassion for her boyfriend, so she gradually eased back from using him as her delivery boy. And then she made a note that said 'Spider-Man delivery boy? Roleplay?' Her mom appreciated her developing skills insofar as they would assist her in self-defence, which June sincerely hoped MJ would never need, though the reminder that her child could be put in danger tempered any other enthusiasm she may have had.
Cindy. MJ would show Cindy. She'd lecture her ahead of time about keeping this a secret, and then it'd be fine. She just needed the right forum. Swinging the mace around her apartment was no longer tolerated and MJ certainly wasn't good enough to want to swing it around at Cindy's and break all of the Moons' stuff. She was puzzled until Peter texted, once again acting as a go-between, and told her Princess Shuri was inviting her to go on a private tour of Yankee Stadium. And it wouldn't be so much of a tour as complete privacy to explore without a guide. That would be the perfect place to wield a weapon! Wide-open space, security cameras shut off for the princess's privacy, the princess herself on hand to give pointers! MJ agreed immediately, with the caveat that she'd be allowed to bring a friend. Her caveat was accepted.
MJ wouldn't have wanted to say that she pulled a few strings to completely blow Cindy's mind the next day when they went to the stadium―she didn't see herself as a string-puller―but it was possible that she'd made one more request through Peter (poor kid). She'd been very specific that the request should only be granted if convenient. If this was going to detract from a mission, or even just make Tony Stark point a finger at her and yell about something she'd inevitably tune out, she could live without it. MJ discovered that her request would cause no such problems when the car taking them to meet up with the princess pulled up in front of MJ's apartment building, where she was waiting with Cindy, and the back door swung open to reveal Romanoff.
Cindy was utterly silent with amazement for the first half of the ride, staring at the Avenger with hero-struck eyes. Romanoff was chill enough to hold a conversation with MJ while her temporarily psychotic best friend's gaze remained fixed on her. When Cindy did abruptly start talking, she didn't stop. MJ put on some Stravinsky to subtly soothe her, though she was also happy that her friend was getting all of this excitement out―Cindy would've been furious at herself later if she'd wasted this chance to talk to Romanoff.
They didn't notice when the car stopped at their destination (well, the one who was a spy probably did), or when MJ got out of the car, or when she slammed the door, but they did notice when she opened the one on Romanoff's side and smiled sarcastically in at them, watching her best friend blink her way back to the reality that an entire world existed beyond speed-befriending an Avenger.
"Hey, guys," MJ said. "How are we getting along?"
Romanoff laughed softly to herself and slid from the backseat, extracting a pair of sunglasses from her shirt pocket; Cindy emerged less gracefully after her.
"You're lucky I met you first," Cindy informed MJ. "I could be best friends with her, even if she is twenty years older than me."
"Eighteen," Romanoff countered, pushing her shades into place, "but who's counting?"
Cindy let out an excited squeak and MJ rolled her eyes, grabbing her friend's hand so they could follow the spy inside. She wasn't staying―the reason it had been so easy to swing this meet-and-greet was because Romanoff had other business in the city―but she would stick with them until they reached Princess Shuri. It was amazing to see such a big place so quiet as they walked past restrooms and concessions. Finally, MJ spotted Okoye. She'd figured the warrior would be here. First of all, the princess wouldn't go anywhere unguarded. Second of all, MJ had a little baby suspicion that Romanoff might be almost as protective of her as Okoye was of Princess Shuri. Third of all… they weren't alone.
"Peter!" MJ burst out, sprinting towards her boyfriend the second he stepped into view.
He seemed surprised by her exuberance (he shouldn't have been―it'd been a good two weeks since they'd met in person), but not too surprised to put his arms out and receive the hug she hurtled into him with.
"I thought…" she began, arms locked around him, "…your exam?"
"Wrote it first thing this morning." He squeezed her a bit tighter. "Hey, you feel really good, you know that?"
MJ smiled into his neck. Glancing up, she caught Romanoff's eye. The spy signalled that she was heading out.
"Did you know?" MJ mouthed, pointing at the back of Peter's head.
Romanoff shrugged, smirked, and waved goodbye.
"Is it safe for you to be out like this?" MJ demanded as she pulled back.
Peter smiled.
"I don't know if traveling with royalty is the best way to sneak into New York, but it's the best way I've tried so far. They do things really quietly. And I don't have to ride on top of a truck," he noted with a smile. "Are you surprised?" Peter asked when MJ only smiled back.
"So surprised." Finally, she tore her eyes briefly away from his face. "I should make introductions."
"Oh, yeah. Right."
"Hey, Cindy," she said, somehow still looking at Peter as she stepped away from him. His hand slipped naturally into hers. "This is General Okoye and Princess Shuri. Is that a good enough introduction?" she whispered to her boyfriend.
"I think so. They seem pretty relaxed about the formal stuff. Titles and bowing and stuff."
"Ok, good. So, Cindy," MJ began, turning to look at her friend properly, "you know you could've…"
She trailed off. Cindy and the princess were staring at each other, within handshake distance. MJ frowned for a second, wondering if they'd already made the introductions for themselves and she'd missed it, literally and figuratively wrapped up in her reunion with Peter, but as she watched, they continued to stare.
"Uh, what's happening here?" Peter asked Okoye.
"They have been like this since you two girls walked over here with Natasha," she said, lifting an eyebrow. Her gaze shifted to MJ and it seemed to say, Why don't you go ahead and explain this?
"Cindy?" the princess finally checked.
"Yeah," Cindy said back. The way her talkativeness had completely died down again made MJ lower her eyebrows in confusion. Then the rambling kicked in. "I mean, yes. Yes, I'm Cindy Moon, Princess."
Princess Shuri beamed.
"Just 'Shuri' will be fine."
"Wonderful," Okoye cut in flatly. "Now can we make our way down to the field? We have been standing here so long that I have memorized the price of the hot dogs and every disgusting thing you can order on top of them."
"Aw, you've never had a chili cheese dog?" Peter questioned, shocked. "You don't know what you're missing!"
MJ listened to her boyfriend unfold the joys of concession food to the warrior as they walked. One of her hands continued to hold his while the other felt the solid shape of the mace in her backpack. But her eyes, her eyes were always on Cindy and Shuri, walking ahead of the rest of them. It was probably nothing. Just her best friend losing her shit over a member of the Wakandan royal family. Maybe MJ should've postponed introducing her to Romanoff; two big introductions in one day was probably a lot for Cindy to deal with, because it would be a lot for anyone who'd heard of the Avengers and Wakanda to deal with. By the time their feet touched grass, she could hear Cindy and the princess talking, so at least they'd gotten past that awkward muteness, or whatever that had been.
"Let's see it," Peter encouraged, dropping MJ's hand when they halted to let her swing her backpack off and retrieve the mace.
"As if you haven't already seen it," she said.
"I haven't seen it in person!"
"You didn't see it before the princess gave it to me?"
"Fine, I might have taken a look, but I haven't seen you with it in person."
"Alright," MJ conceded. She held out her weapon and, with a couple of quick flicks to the controls, had the head of the mace formed, spikes included.
"Motherfuck," Cindy breathed, breaking the epic stillness of the moment. Peter laughed.
"You have gotten good at that," Shuri complimented. "Have you practiced with the controls?"
"Oh yeah," MJ assured her. "My apartment looks like a warzone. My mom told me―"
"Crap," Peter said, cutting her off. She turned to him.
"What is it?"
"Oh, it's, it's a thing with Ned. He's calling me." He pulled out his phone as he said this. "MJ, do you think you could come with me for a sec? Ned and Betty just got into a huge fight and maybe you could say something to him?"
"To help Ned patch things up with Betty? I don't know if I really have the skills for that," MJ readily admitted.
"No, you do, you'll be perfect. Can you just talk to him for a minute?"
"I guess so," she agreed, though she felt bad leaving Okoye, Shuri, and Cindy standing there when they'd just arrived, and they were here for her.
MJ held the mace out for Shuri to take.
"You're not even going to swing it around before you go?" Cindy asked.
"I'm coming right back," MJ promised as Peter started to tug her away. "Besides, you need to prepare yourself for what that's going to look like first. Mace-handling is incredibly badass. If you saw someone swinging that thing around, you'd fall in love with them immediately."
"You're so full of yourself," Cindy taunted, flipping her off. MJ grinned and presented her own middle finger before facing forward and letting Peter rush them off the field.
He poked around for a minute, seeming to barely notice her, then pushed open a door that ended up being for a locker room. He dragged her in after him. She should've doubted that dumb Ned story long before Peter shoved his phone back into his pocket and pinned her to the wall just inside, kissing her ravenously.
"Ned and Betty didn't have a huge fight?"
"Not lately," Peter said in a pant before planting his mouth on hers again. MJ broke away and it was like her hands had accepted what this situation was before her brain could because they were shoving her boyfriend's t-shirt up and running covetously over his abs.
"So he didn't just call you, desperate to save him and Betty from a relationship crisis?"
"Have you met them?" Peter shot back, suddenly cupping her boobs through her shirt. "Those two are stupid in-love. They're fine."
"Just to be clear then," MJ said, swearing to her raging libido (he was feeling her up beneath the shirt now and she was already getting wet) that this would be the last interruption on her end. "You hustled me in here because…?"
"Because I saw you standing there holding a deadly weapon and I started getting hard."
She laughed as Peter plunged close to kiss rapidly up and down her throat. Holding tight to the back of his neck with one hand, she placed the other on his ass and pressed him against her. Yep, his story checked out.
"I think there may be something seriously wrong with you, Spider-Man."
He groaned into her skin and MJ grabbed his jaw to yank him back up into a kiss. Folding down the cups of her bra, Peter stroked his thumbs firmly across her nipples until she gasped into his mouth. As well as she could with their busy tongues in the way.
"I'm an idiot," she realized as he twisted the button of her shorts open one-handed and began struggling with her zipper. "I don't have a condom. I didn't know you were coming."
"Yeah, but I knew," Peter pointed out. "Back pocket."
MJ slid the hand she had firmly clamped to his ass up, dipping her fingers into his pocket and feeling around his phone. Yep, there was something else in there and it felt promising. He got her shorts undone as she retrieved the condom and she almost dropped it in surprise at how enthusiastically Peter basically pantsed her, snatching the shorts down her legs to rest on her feet. Though he hadn't removed her underwear, he swiftly cupped between her legs, breathing hard, then traced his middle finger around until he found her clit through the dark blue cotton. MJ gasped, grabbing his wrist and encouraging him to continue, then abruptly shoving him backwards with both hands on his chest.
"Holy shit," Peter said slowly as she flicked her shorts away and went to her knees. "We don't really have time for this."
Sounded half-hearted to her. Unfastening his jeans gently around the bulge straining the front of them, she smirked up at her boyfriend.
"Whatever you say, Spider-Man. I'll just get you ready for action then."
Unlike Peter, MJ took both layers down at once, sorta surprising herself with the sudden eye-level view of his erection. But whatevs, she could roll with it. She was the kind of girl who carried a mace now. Springing oral on her boyfriend was no big deal.
The feeling of his eyes on her did make her a little self-conscious, so when she encircled his length in her fingers and gave a first, easy stroke, she closed her own eyes. When she gave him another pass, Peter panted. MJ did her best to imagine that she was hearing him over the phone. He was responding to her describing pumping her hand along his dick, hitching his breath in anticipation when she talked about leaning forward and brushing her lips along the pulsing head, digging his fingers into his pillow rather than her hair as she parted her lips and applied her tongue to his sensitive skin. It turned out that all of those things were happening in reality and, by the time she'd slicked him up with her mouth for as long as he could bear, were enough to make her very ready for the way Peter brought her to her feet, stripped her underwear off, and hoisted her to be trapped between his body and the wall. MJ rolled the condom on and gripped the back of his neck hard to draw him into a rough kiss as he prodded her from below, then pressed inside.
"You won't drop me, right?" she asked on an exhale.
She was kidding; she had to, with Peter's face so close and the awed expression on it as he held her eyes. Instead of the sappy reassurance she was expecting, he gave her a slight smile that tipped her off to trouble.
"Maybe a little," he said as he slackened his arms. With less sturdy support, MJ sank down on him more and grabbed his shoulder as she cried out. "No, I got you, don't worry," Peter promised, lifting her higher again. She let out a shuddering breath at the way he glided to a near-complete withdrawal. "Sorry, is that too high?" The bastard let her fall again. It wasn't more than an inch or two, but he intensified the sensation by pitching his hips up.
"If we were anywhere else right now," MJ threatened, shifting against her boyfriend when he switched from teasing her to holding intolerably still, "I'd push you onto your back and get on top."
"I know you would."
Vengefully, she clenched around him, watching Peter choke on an inhale and flush with heat. Maybe it was too soon to smile smugly; he adjusted his hold on the underside of her thighs and looked down, lingering on the outline of the bra he'd manhandled away from her breasts and the nipples that would surely be visible through the tight fit of her t-shirt.
"But we're not somewhere else," he told her with a grin.
A second later, his mouth collided with hers and he guided her hips hard and fast against his surging ones. MJ threw both arms around the back of his neck. No, he wouldn't drop her, but he could toss her up through the fucking ceiling if he lost himself in this as much as she was. Better to hold on while she still had brain cells willing to devote themselves to self-preservation. The rest of her was desire, riding Peter as aggressively as she could with him so in control of both of their movements.
This fuck was a sprint. When her boyfriend's thrusts grew sloppier―paired with him making soft animal noises against her throat―though no less forceful, MJ reached awkwardly between them and rolled her clit back and forth beneath her fingertips until she was tingling all over and calling out his name. Peter drilled into her at the sound and she clung to him, welcoming the way his frantic bucking was drawing out her orgasm before his own hit. He slumped into her when it did and she petted his hair as he grit out, "Oh god, M," and filled the condom.
She was a little wobbly on her legs when he pulled out and set her down, but she shushed him before the excessive concern he sometimes showed her after sex could kick in. She had zero complaints about this and didn't want the whine of his worry-voice to cut through the happy buzz she was sure they were both feeling. He chucked the condom and, with her eyes, she followed his perfect ass across the locker room to the garbage as he did it. After a minute of leaning her back against the cool wall, MJ fixed her bra and grabbed her shorts and underwear, initially putting more effort into watching Peter put his clothes back on than into redressing herself. He finished first and, catching her eye, walked up slowly and rebuttoned her shorts. When his knuckles skimmed across her abdomen, she almost delayed him for round two. But they had people waiting.
"Your face is pretty red," she noted as they left the locker room. Peter fanned himself wildly with both hands and it made her laugh, though he was doing it seriously.
"Your hair's kinda... from my hands," he said back. It made him blush again and MJ grinned as she took an elastic off her wrist and just pulled her hair into a ponytail.
In their final few seconds before walking outside, they built a passable cover story. Apparently, Peter actually was planning to see Ned after this instead of going straight back to the compound with Okoye and the princess. They just had to tell the other three that Ned had forgotten Peter was coming to help him and that he'd called in a panic, scared of an imminent breakup. MJ considered saying that Betty had called her at the same time, looking for some support of her own, but involving more people risked making it too complicated. Cindy might feel compelled to check in with Betty. Instead, MJ would just say Peter had handed the phone off to her and she'd calmed Ned down with her less excitable voice. Good. They both felt better with a plan for how their slightly disheveled reappearance on the diamond was going to play out.
But they didn't return to the suspicious stares they'd expected. They didn't return to stares of any kind. Only Okoye glanced at them, and doing so clearly pulled her focus from what she was already watching―which, Peter and MJ discovered, was Shuri wrapping her arms around Cindy from behind. MJ walked faster, then jogged (ugh) over as she noticed that Cindy was holding the mace. Her friend might hurt herself! She hadn't had the practice that MJ'd had! Steps away from them, she had to acknowledge that her friend wasn't about to make some crazy motion with the weapon in her hands because, very gently, Shuri seemed to be correcting her grip. Cindy appeared far from shaking the princess off and giving the mace a test-drive. Honestly, she looked way more interested in her proximity to Shuri than to the weapon the princess had engineered.
"Do you remember what you said before you left?" Okoye questioned MJ.
She frowned for a second before recalling her warning to Cindy. Slowly, she nodded.
"Yes, well, your friend was growing tired of waiting for you, so what do you think the princess did with the mace? She swung it around," Okoye answered her own enquiry.
"Huh," Peter said as the three of them stood there, watching Shuri's hands cover Cindy's and Cindy take coy glances back at the princess over her shoulder.
"Don't sound so surprised," MJ told her boyfriend under her breath. "It's not like seeing me hold that thing didn't affect you."
The girls finally noticed them and Shuri took a step back while Cindy hastily tucked hair behind her ear. When she took a hand off the mace to do that, the head of it swung down, scratching a shallow trench in the manicured lawn. Cindy was alarmed, but Shuri―once again with great care―took the mace back from her and quickly retracted its spikes. MJ stepped forward to reclaim it, but she couldn't do the same with the princess's attention, which had already fixed again on her best friend. She began describing something called vibranium gauntlets.
All MJ could do was roll her eyes at Cindy's raptness as she moved away from the pair, extended the spikes in her mace, and got in the practice she'd come here for. Unfortunately, part of that included keeping her boyfriend at a distance. Given the opportunity, she knew he'd be just as quick to step up behind her with the excuse of coaching her into a more defensive stance or some bullshit. He did try to get closer, and was quick enough to dodge the sweeps of the mace that she hadn't been aiming at him. But when he put his hand out in a request to give her new weapon a try for himself, MJ leveled it at him and, with a smirk, said, "You've got plenty of toys, Spider-Man. This one's mine."
Author's Note:
The next update takes us into the final five chapters of this fic! It's a Peter POV chapter and a bit of a roller coaster, so obviously Ned'll be there.
To be continued...