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forasecondtherewedwon · 5 years

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So many options, I'm picking 8,16 and 37 (separately of course) also bring on the NSFW 🥵🥵

Thank you for the prompt request, Anon! As I can only respond to your ask once, I’ll be fulfilling prompt 8, but rest assured that I’ve received another request for 37, so I’ll get to that one as well.

Hostel FeelingsPairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle)Rating: E/NSFWWord count: 4826

8. “There’s only one bed.”

The Spider-Man-community-appearances thing was really takingoff. In fact, it had taken off sowell that Peter was beginning to understand the lives of his superhero mentorsin ways he’d never really thought he would get a chance to. Mr. Stark and Mr.Rogers had both been in the spotlight a lot, for very different reasons, andPeter thought he could finally comprehend… just how much those spotlights madeyour back sweat. Seriously, rivers down his spine. Nanotechnology was cool andall, but Peter felt like Mr. Stark could’ve maybe taken a page from Nike orAdidas’s book instead and build in some kind of sweat-wicking layer. Metaldidn’t breathe.

Apparently, the old suit wasn’t as impressive. Didn’t havethat shine seldom seen outside Mr.Clean ads like the new suit did.

Oh sure, the metal Spidey-suit was fun to wear, filled Peterwith pride, and looked awesome―all gleaming and eye-catching for the generalpublic and flocks of photographers―except once it was heated under thoselights, it was a human barbecue, expensively and meticulously molded to fitPeter and only Peter. (Or some other guy about his height, build, and shoesize. Or girl. Or even, like, any well behaved dog. Maybe a Border Collie? Hewas confident that the old model mask would stretch to fit a long snout, havingonce seen it filled by Ned’s foot. There’d been an explanation at the time, butit had been so weird that Peter had given up trying to understand and basicallyforgotten about it since then.)

Anyway, Peter may have made some subtle complaints about thelights and suit combo. Even though―he swore!―hehadn’t done it to bug Happy, next thing he knew, he was getting a call fromPepper, who totally ratted on Happy as bringing Peter’s ‘whining’ to herattention. She had a plan, or her people had a plan, or the Avengers’ PR team(who still could’ve been Pepper’s people, Peter didn’t know) had a plan.

Then there were informational meetings and strategy meetingsand branding meetings and itinerary meetings and somewhere between ‘summerworld tour’ and ‘big white marquees,’ Peter heard the word ‘shade’ and said theword ‘yes.’

May was in, of course, thrilled by the idea of a vacationand hopefully nothing else, if it was up to her nephew; Happy was going alongtoo and Peter knew his aunt knew, and that she knew he knew she knew, and thatthis might still not be enough to head off any potential canoodling. He didhave to thank their disturbing occasional flirting for one thing though: itgave Peter the idea to ask if MJ could come too. Not for all of it, just acountry or two.

He’d also asked about Ned tagging along, but once again,Happy got wind and refused to include Peter’s best friend on any of the stopsoutside of the continental United States. Apparently, Ned made Happy feel likehe was on a game show―not the win-a-million-bucks kind, but thehave-questions-rapidly-fired-at-you kind. But Happy hadn’t met Peter’sgirlfriend, so some unvoiced reason prevented him from barring her from thetrip. Ethics or something. The point was, MJ was coming with him. And that MJwas his girlfriend. That was also the point.

It had turned out to be easier than Peter had thought toconfess his feelings to MJ. Especially after she told him she knew he wasSpider-Man… and then that she knew he liked her. Luckily, she liked him too,which she was also prepared to disclose. Peter was aware that he was thesuperhero, but MJ was definitely the brave one.

Between the tour’s schedule and MJ’s (which she repeatedlyinformed Peter was the more important of the two―always said with a teasingsmirk on her face), they would meet up in Italy for three weeks in August. Thatwas kinda nice, since they’d both enjoyed Venice during the school trip. MJalso appreciated that all of her expenses were being covered, including the flightover so that she wouldn’t have to worry about booking tickets last minute whentheir schedules finally aligned.

To give Peter additional time out of the suit (wow, Happymust have really laid it on thick about Peter’s so-called ‘whining’), it wasarranged that he and MJ would be allotted extra travel days between appearancedates. They could visit museums, eat, take pictures, eat, go shopping,eat―generally get a feel for a ton of places in Italy that their Midtown triphadn’t covered.

A week into Peter’s MJ time (he never called it that outloud), he was getting sick of hostels, their accommodations of choice. Only itwasn’t the stuff about hostels that people usually got sick of, like, havingtheir belongings stolen, or rooms with too many bunkbeds and not enoughprivacy, or rats. Peter had heard that there were sometimes rats. What wasmaking him restless was brushing his teeth next to MJ after dinner in thecommunal washroom and seeing her foamy toothpaste smile in the mirror. Passingher in the hall, both of them in pajamas, as she headed for the room reservedfor girls, while he went to the one for guys. Catching her eye as they eachshut the door of those rooms and knowing as surely as he knew he was Spider-Manthat he was going to suffer all night because he couldn’t roll over and see herface or pull her warm body close to his.

That was a thing too. The thought of them sleeping together.In senses of the word that he was not comfortable discussing with May in themiddle of a public restaurant, no matter how many times she tried to spring theconversation on him, claiming she wanted to make sure he was mentally preparedand, jeeze, a lot of other stuff that he’d drowned out by loudly chewing astarter salad. May had also been the reason that Peter and MJ sleeping togetherhad not happened at all, let alone as many times as he would’ve liked it to.(Ideally more than once a day, and twice on Saturday mornings.) His aunt wasjust around. There was nothing more to it than that. Peter loved her so much,but he sometimes wanted May to decide that he could be alone in the apartmentall night, no questions asked.

He probably could’ve finagled something with theaccommodations during this trip if the thought of going up to Pepper andrequesting one hotel room for him and MJ to share didn’t make him feel like theheated embarrassment on his face was trying to burn him alive. Peter hadpracticed a couple of times in bathroom mirrors while the tour was movingthrough France; no good―he was an easy blusher.

The only thing he was capable of doing was behaving himself,holding MJ’s hand all day long and breaking off kisses while he still felt likehe could. Peter kept his underlying frustrations well hidden. Meaning MJprobably knew everything.

For years, Peter had been developing the belief (and thenbeen mentored into it even further by Mr. Stark) that science was the answer.The question didn’t matter. Being in a school lab, theorizing new chemicalcombinations, or taking stuff apart―possibly not always being able to fixit―let him be both excited and totally calm at the same time. Probably likepeople who climbed really high mountains, with icepicks or whatever. God, hehad tried that, fiddling with tech in the non-metal suit he had packed in hisbackpack for emergencies while the metal one was carefully housed andtransported with Pepper and the rest of the tour crew. Evidently, even themight of science was humbled in the face of teenage hormones. So he was goingthe route of a true man of science and trying a different approach totemporarily escape his desires.

“Fresh air?” MJ asked again, looking skeptical and also so beautiful as they walked out intoearly golden light. Peter didn’t look back at the hostel they’d just checkedout of. It was no friend of his.

“Yeah,” he said excitedly, “I was researching on my phonelast night and I found this plum orchard place that’s only like, an hour out ofour way, and it’s really scenic and rural and it’s kind of like a bed andbreakfast too? And it said they make their own―”

“So,” she interrupted as Peter was extracting his phone fromhis pocket to win MJ over with pictures of the property, “this is like adaytrip or we’re changing our plans and staying overnight there?”

“Um, the second one. Is that ok?”

“Yes, dork, it’s ok with me. But I’m not the one bankrollingthis little holiday.”

“I called this morning to let…” He paused, cautiously eyeinga couple ambling past them. “…our friendsknow. They said the rooms are taken care of under some company name that won’tmake it obvious that one of us is an Avenger.”

MJ frowned at him, then yawned massively. Well, herirreverence over him dropping the A-word would keep him humble.

“Jeeze, Peter, how early were you up? And you stayed up latelast night figuring this out too?”

Peter attempted an innocent closed-lipped smile.

“Oh, just couldn’t sleep.”

One coach bus ride with a group of Austrian tourists later(Pepper’s people really could gettickets for anything), and Peter and MJ were deposited at a stately yet homeywhite villa surrounded by green Tuscan countryside. He wasn’t sure he’d everseen anything so green. The Hulk could come here for hide and seek. But it wasbetter to keep a lid on these supernatural-themed remarks, so Peter didn’t sayanything out loud. The two of them crunched across gravel, craning for one lastglimpse of the sprawling orchard of plum trees on the other side of a hedge.Well, Peter was craning. MJ could probably see over it no problem.

She was blinking, eyes adjusting to the indoors, when theyentered, so he steered them over to someone who looked like staff. Not being ahotel, there wasn’t an obvious front desk or anything. At least they had areservation. That was comforting.

“Hi, um, buon giorno.Uh, mi chiamo Peter Parker.”

“Ah, benvenuto!”the man said immediately, warm eyes sparkling in a way that Peter was beginningto find very Italian.

“Grazie,” he andMJ replied together. Phew, that was one of the words he definitely had down.

He assumed the guy recognized his name because the rooms hadbeen booked so recently. It set Peter even more at ease and he followed the manto a computer where he assumed his booking was being pulled up.

“Bene,” the manconcluded, glancing at his guests with a friendly smile. “Already paid,” heproceeded in lightly bouncing English. “The room upstairs with windows facing east.”

“The rooms,” MJ jumpedin with a reassuring smile. Peter guessed the smile was to show she wasn’ttrying to be condescending by correcting the man’s mistake, just accurate. Shecould be particular like that sometimes.

Except, uh oh, the guy was frowning.

“Una camera,” he said,eyes darting back to the computer.

“Due,” MJcountered, holding up two fingers. She and Peter exchanged a glance too shortto allow him to convey everything he was thinking.

The man did some more staring at the screen.

“Due persone, una camera,” he concluded, facing themand holding his hands palms-up.

“He thinks the reservation was for two people in one room,”MJ told Peter.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought I was getting,” he replied.Still having a lot of feelings about that.

“Con bagno,” theman supplied, going with a conciliatory smile.

“There’s a bathroom attached,” MJ muttered automatically.Yeah, she’d totally been putting in time with her English-to-Italiandictionary. What a nerd.

“It’s just,” Peter said to the man, willing a certainoutcome with his eyes that he wasn’t ready to admit to out loud, “we meant toeach get a room. Each of us in our own room.”

“All of the other rooms have been booked,” the man said.“Last reservation was for you. But one room is ok, yes? You’re having abeautiful vacation with your girlfriend.” He shot MJ a playfully sly look.“Everything has worked out,” he concluded in a tone of absolutely certaintythat Peter had also identified as very Italian.

The man handed MJ the key and pointed in the direction ofthe stairs. As they talked on the way up, Peter didn’t think he’d hadbutterflies like this since he’d found out she liked him back.

“It’s not like it actually matters,” his girlfriend said, cutting their situation down tosize.

“No, not really,” Peter agreed.

He kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye. Did sherealize? Crap, they did it at the same time. His gaze shot forward.

“Sharing a room with one person I actually know is going tobe nothing after hostel life,” she continued. This was practically rambling forMJ. She’d said ‘actually’ twice. Peter clamped his lips together, trying not togrin.

“For sure. It’ll be roomy.”

“Exactly.” They arrived at the top of the stairs and wentdown the hallway. MJ was nearly marching, fully of what appeared to be newfoundcertainty that she had a handle on everything. “I’ll be in my bed and you’ll beway across the room in yours.”

“Right.”

The word ‘bed’ made swallowing a struggle. Peter wasofficially an idiot. Then again, MJ’s hand was shaking as she unlocked the doorto their room, signifying that she was an idiot too. It would be fine though.He would act normal. Sleeping in the same room? Not a big deal. It’d be likesleepovers at Ned’s.

The door swung open. They both thought it―Peter knew theydid―but MJ was the one who said it.

“There’s only one bed.”

They discovered that there was a lot to do (outside,isolated, away from urban distractions) all day when returning to their roomwasn’t an option, and a lot to say to each other when mentioning the room wasalso off the table. After making sure it was allowed, Peter and MJ took alengthy walk down avenue after leafy avenue of plum trees. His heart surged ashe squinted through dappled light at her smiling face. When the heat rose inthe afternoon, they feasted on bruschetta at a shaded table next to thehouse―the owners’ homegrown tomatoes were also in season. MJ had gone up totheir room alone to change before lunch and the bright, wet red of the dicedtomatoes against the dazzling summer blue of the plate their food had beenserved on was almost enough to keep Peter’s eyes off her legs.

The afternoon stretched luxuriously while they stayed insideto escape the hottest hours; Peter worked out some equations in a notebook andMJ read Dante’s Paradiso. (She saidshe liked to theme her holiday reading based on location―her bookishness madehim starry-eyed.) After a while, not planning to, he realized his notebook wasin his lap and he was watching her. This place kind of was paradise, thoughPeter missed New York, but he was definitely in hell. How was he supposed to…?What was he going to…? Man, she was pretty.

He couldn’t remember what they ate for supper, diningcommunally with the handful of other guests. Any fresh, local ingredients werewasted on Peter that night. Was it possible that he hadn’t stared at MJ acrossthe table for the entire meal? Yes. Was it probable? No. He made excuses abouttoo much sun, pretending like he’d zoned out and his gaze had only happened toland on her because she was right in front of him.

“Your face is kindof red,” she agreed, then reached over to lay her fingers on his forehead. Itcould have been clinical if MJ hadn’t brushed her fingertips through his hairbefore she drew her hand back.

Peter smiled, feeling weak.

“Sun,” he repeated.

They were quiet going upstairs. The wooden steps had acomfortable old groan to them that managed to feel familiar to two people wholived in apartment buildings with concrete stairwells. Their arms skimmed asthey walked. Peter exhaled slowly through his mouth, drawn closer to MJ in ahallway settling into its own navy shadows.

“Hold on a sec,” he finally said while she unlocked thedoor. His hand was suddenly on her wrist, then stroking over the back of herhand.

MJ kissed him before Peter could tell her why he’d asked herto wait, which was great because he had no idea. He kissed her in return,slowly, holding her face with one hand so it stayed where he wanted it. Thesoft bump let him know that yes, he really had backed MJ up that tiny half-stepit took to hit the closed door. She slouched against it, keeping their kisslevel while everything inside Peter unbalanced. Somehow, his thigh was pushingwith its own determination between her legs. He wondered what her skin feltlike right below the hem of her white denim shorts. He wondered what it feltlike underneath them too.

Peter’s hands went to her hips with a squeeze that woke himup a little. He put his palms on the door instead. Gradually, the kiss loosenedand the distance between their mouths grew until their lips didn’t touch again.The last thing he shifted away from her was his lower body. He’d been hardagainst her. That was another fact for MJ to collect, another detail. It wasn’tmuch work to be observant with him. Peter gave it all away.

She finished letting them into their room while he tried notto pant on the back of her neck like a wolf about to sink its teeth in. Therewas a feeling between them, he thought. This was nothing like strolling into ahostel together after a gelato excursion or holding hands in one of a millionpiazzas. Piazze? MJ had more wordsdown than he did.

So they got changed separately―Peter in the bathroom and MJin the bedroom―but they tugged each other’s pajamas when the two of themslipped by at the threshold between rooms. And they brushed their teeth side byside― he splashed his mouth to clear away toothpaste―but he saw MJ breathinghard when water rolled down his chin, her dazed eyes on it until it passedunder the neck of his t-shirt. And they caught each other watching each other―Peterfolded down his side, she kept hers squared up to the head of the bed―as theycrawled between the sheets.

MJ had opened the large window earlier and the air had comein with the low sounds of people talking while they drank limoncello. Maybe Peter and MJ moved closer because of the breeze.Or maybe there was no breeze because the heat of an Italian August is still andinevitable. They could’ve related to part of that, if they’d thought about it.

“Pretty sure you’re supposed to be way across the room,” MJmurmured. Her foot found his.

The bedroom wasn’t so dark for him and his eyes traced thecurves of her face.

“Pretty sure you’re the one who didn’t stay on their side ofthe bed.”

“Prove it,” she said as her ankle crossed his.

Peter’s clipped laugh accompanied a smile that went widethen disappeared completely. His heart pounded.

“I’ll see you in court,” he said, lips hitting hers when hespoke.

She rolled on top of him and Peter gripped the back of herthigh just below her ass as his tongue shoved into her mouth. Her body forcedthe breath out of him―not her body’s weight, but its presence―and when he couldinhale, it was with an audible waver. Using his other hand, Peter inched theside of MJ’s tank top up until he could put his hand on her bare waist. Shedragged him deeper into the kiss, found the hem of his t-shirt and, with moreconfidence than he’d used, jerked the fabric upward as far as she could whileit was mostly trapped between them. Her pulse seemed to be right there, in herstomach when their skin met. Peter liked it, how MJ felt against him. A lot.

Their lips unlocked and they stared at each other. Her hairtickled his cheek.

“I’m on the pill,” she abruptly informed him.

“O-oh.” His face probably looked surprised, but he hoped itwas at least a good surprised,because that was how he felt.

“Apparently, sending a teenage daughter abroad to meet hernerdy yet deceptively well-muscled boyfriend in a country famous for its nudeartwork is the kind of thing that makes mothers nervous. Or so I’ve found.”

MJ pushed herself up on her elbows enough to shrug. Peterwas still struggling to exist, but knew it was time to generate a response.

“I’m… glad?” he tried, then frowned slightly. Did that makeit sound like he was happy her mother was worried? A second attempt wasnecessary. “Was the description of me your words or hers?”

“You weren’t actually mentioned during the birth controlacquisition outing, but you were strongly implied.“

Peter gathered her hair at the back of her neck, the slackcircle of his fingers standing in for an elastic.

“So, what you’re saying is that it’s your description.” Hegrinned at her as she rolled her eyes.

“Calm down, nerd. It was just a statement of facts. Am Isupposed to have somehow not noticedyour body?”

“Oh, I don’t think you’ve just noticed it,” he countered, gaspingin a breath when her palm smoothed over his abdomen. “I think you’ve thought about it.”

She went in for a kiss, probably to shut him up, but Peterdodged her, thanking his supernaturally speedy reflexes. Sighing like she wasgoing to complain about his teasing became much better sighing as his mouth ranalong her neck. Slowly, Peter started to kiss her skin. MJ’s upper body grewless tense and she dropped back onto him completely. Then, she started to pant.He licked a line, chasing her pulse.

“Fucking hostels,” she groaned and grabbed his face to kisshim on the lips again.

He moaned into her mouth as she wriggled to push her soft PJcapris off. Helpfully, Peter lifted the hand on her leg, then put it right backdown on naked skin. He raised his hips, grinding into her thigh. When she gavehim a little more space, he was sad, but not stupid; he hurriedly kicked hisown bottoms off, then yanked his shirt over his head before sitting up andgoing after hers. MJ raised her arms and the corner of his mouth ticked withhow vulnerable she was, how much she trusted him.

Pajamas shed, they both shuffled back down under the sheet.God, he wanted to reach out for her. His fingers flexed.

“It’s ok to―” he started to check, gaze descending.

“It was ok like three hostels ago,” MJ assured him.

She grabbed his hand and set it on her hip, then scootedtowards him, making his palm run over her skin. Peter thought about their daytogether. All their days together. He kissed her hard and let his hand travel.There was a noise in the back of her throat that stiffened him an improbable(not impossible―he was a scientist, he allowed for possibilities) fractionmore.

He didn’t push MJ onto her back, only fingering her gentlyin a way that made her shaky, but that was how she ended up. Still dumbstruckat the wetness as he traced between her thighs, Peter continued to trail thetip of his middle finger over and around her clit as he climbed onto her. Herhands were busy too; he hadn’t expected the greediness behind MJ’s touch as shecaressed his abs, gripped his biceps, and, most daringly (with a bold raise ofher chin as she met his eye), groped his ass. There was so much to ask herabout later. Clearly, she really had had a few thoughts in all that time she’dspent observing him. That was excellent, in Peter’s opinion.

Her hands stopped roving to grasp his hips, so Peter movedhis coaxing fingers away and ground directly against her in a determined drag.She cried out, legs jumping up to shelter his hips. He clenched his jaw.Parting her thighs slightly wider―more as a hint than because she needed to, hethought―MJ guided him that little bit lower, invited him. He looked into herface for long enough to be fully in love with her by the end of it.

“Per favore,Parker,” she whispered up to him, utterly fucking with him. “Per favore.”

“I know what that one means,” Peter said. He pressed thehead of his erection against her.

“Then why aren’t my manners getting me anything?”

He released a short laugh and started to ease inside her. Rightaway, he heard MJ’s breathing get rough and dropped his forehead to hershoulder, rubbing a hand soothingly across her arm. She shook her head after aminute. Peter thrust a little deeper, questioningly. MJ nodded rapidly. Heinhaled like he meant it and slid further. The heat in the room that they’ddefinitely added to, the midnight sounds of the countryside, the scent of herbody on clean sheets―nothing won out in the battle for his attention over thefeeling of her, so tight around him that pleasure was an agony.

MJ hooked her arms below his, damp palms pressed to thecenter of his back, and let out a contented sigh that felt too private to hear.But then again, Peter guessed they were redefining those boundaries now. Heworked his way out and back in with a focused care. A few more minutes ofgentle rocking had MJ’s hips joining in and Peter sighed too, like she’d takenaway some massive burden. It wasn’t that at all, just that this was the greatestthrill of his life―and he threw himself off skyscrapers on a regular basis!

Once they started, it only gained momentum. For real, itcould’ve been graphed or something to demonstrate the exponential escalation.Peter thought that afterwards, of course. Inside of those immeasurable moments,he was living from second to second with MJ. Her nails were short, but he feltthem in his lower back, urging him on. When her neck arched, he licked it. Allthe time, their hips were going like crazy. The intensity was almostunbearable. That didn’t mean Peter would slow down though, especially not whileMJ kept saying “faster” every few seconds at an increasingly higher pitch.

She climaxed suddenly and he felt like he’d been riding abike that had just hit a curb, sending him flying over the handlebars; thestrength of her squeeze, holding him irresistibly, was a power Peter was notequipped to fight. It brought him to his knees. Metaphorically. Physically, hewas still on top of her, thrusting shallowly through his orgasm while he waitedfor his brain to reassemble and tried to keep forcing those shuddering gaspsout of MJ.

They collapsed together after another minute: her backlanding on the bed and him landing on her. She made sure to exaggerate how muchhe was squashing her, while also wrapping her legs around him and pressing herface intimately into his neck.

“Laugh now,” she encouraged, “but how will you live withyourself after crushing me?”

“I can feel you smiling against my throat.”

Her face twitched as he felt her getting her expressionunder control.

“I was getting ready to bite you. You know, battle my wayfree.”

“Oh, sure.”

“Tell me you’ve never taken down a bad guy like that,” MJchallenged.

“With my teeth?”

“It’s called using all the weapons in your arsenal.”

Peter’s arms closed in around her and he smiled to himselfwhen MJ’s palms went to his biceps as he moved.

“Good thing you came for part of the tour. These are usefultips.”

“You know what they say. Behind every superhero is agirlfriend, assessing their combat technique and checking out their ass.”

He laughed hard, kissed her, and laughed some more. Hersmirk was delightfully smug.

“I knew you were thinking about it,” Peter teased quietly,mouth on her throat. His hips jerked.

She made a round mmmof agreement, her fingers raking into his hair.

“One more piece of advice,” MJ offered.

“I’m listening,” he promised, barely bucking.

“No―” she gasped, “―more hostels. I sleep where you sleep.”

“Or not so much sleep as…”

The white sheet twisted helplessly as MJ pushed a grinning Peteronto his back.

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