darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
The beautiful redhead walked the streets of New York City alone. Strictly speaking, she wasn't truly alone, as there were still a handful of people shambling about, mostly avoiding one another and scuttling in their own ways. Darkness had descended, and that had a tendency to drive most people in doors. You could hear laughter and see lights coming from pretty well every building you passed, and definitely from those that sold alcohol or something along those lines. But back to the pretty redhead. Petite, lithe, she was the sort of girl that would have garnished attention, had there been anyone to look. For she possessed a classic beauty, the type that people so often wanted in their actresses and models, one that harkened back to the whole "girl next door" thing. And considering that this girl next door happened to be engaged to the boy next door, well, it was a wholly accurate description. Not that being engaged made Mary Jane Watson any less appealing. From the dark red hair to the bottom of her shoes: currently a pair of stylish boots that slid underneath a pair of fashionably torn jeans, MJ was every bit the looker. Slim hips with just the right amount of flare, a bust that just managed to defy gravity and look quite noticeable without having a cartoonish appeal, and of course, the beautiful face and fetching emerald eyes. All this of course helped with her career, though it had also made sure she hadn't been shy of boys to toy with throughout her life. Mostly, anyway.
Now though, she'd tied herself to one Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man. Of course, not that many people actually knew that Peter was the web-slinger. MJ had only found out relatively recently, despite having known Peter for years before that. They'd grown up together, and they'd dated on and off for some time. Hell, Peter had skipped dates for weird reasons before. Really, MJ should have figured something out. But no, instead, she'd had to find out much, much later, and only by actually running into Spider-Man when his mask had been shredded just enough. Putz.
Peter happened to be on the girl's thoughts as she roamed the deserted streets. Mostly because they'd just gotten word that people had seen it again: the dreaded black costume, the symbiote. Peter had insisted that it couldn't be Brock, since the bulky ruined reporter was still safely accounted for: placed under lock and key by SHIELD (an organization that MJ had found out about before she'd learned Peter's secret). Which meant that someone else, someone new, wore the suit now. Which made Peter all kinds of nervous. It was cute, really, how he'd insisted that MJ not walk the streets alone, especially at night. How he insisted that she at least try to keep in contact with him, or avoid dangerous areas. MJ had told him in no uncertain terms that she could handle herself, thankyouverymuch. She'd done it before, hadn't she? Back before he'd actually revealed the truth?
Peter had then wondered if MJ was ever going to let go of that detail, to which MJ informed him that the moment it stopped being useful or Peter stopped feeling guilty, she might. Or when they finally got married. Maybe. But probably not.
The redhead sighed, her eyes rolling heaven ward for a moment. She loved Peter, she really did, but there were times. Usually involving the whole stupid superhero thing, but occasionally there were other issues. Like dealing with Aunt May, for example. Sweet woman, but Peter acted like she was made of glass. MJ knew better. Or, worse yet, the whole fact that Petey was one hell of a virgin. Apparently he'd never gotten that far with Gwen before, which wasn't all that surprising, and the thing with Kitty had gotten no where, which was a lot more surprising. He said he understood the basics, and judging by the way they'd done some heavy petting, he certainly did, but Petey still held tight to his V-card, and mentioned something about waiting.
Not that MJ was overburdened with experience. She'd lost her cherry in high school, as most attractive girls did, but it wasn't like she'd been the school slut. In fact, she could count the number of guys who'd seen her naked on one hand, and one of those happened to be Peter (another was Wolverine, and that was one hell of a story). Still, she clearly had Peter beat. Though at least he seemed really, really willing to try and eager to please, which was one heck of a good combination.
A yelp distracted MJ. She paused, turning to look down an alley. Sure enough, the yelp repeated, and MJ winced. It sounded like a dog of some kind, one that had been hurt. The redhead looked around, not seeing anyone else in the area. Big surprise there. Sighing, MJ reached up to brush aside some hair, tucking it behind an ear. Sure enough, another yelp sounded. The girl shifted, digging into her purse to drag out a small container of mace. Never knew. Thus armed, MJ crept very, very slowly into the alley.
"Here boy!" she called cautiously, waving her hand in a "come hither" motion. "Come on out boy. Come on. I just want to help..."
though she knew full well that heading into a dark alley with all sorts of things on the loose was not a good plan. But MJ could handle herself.... she knew she could.
Now though, she'd tied herself to one Peter Parker, a.k.a. Spider-Man. Of course, not that many people actually knew that Peter was the web-slinger. MJ had only found out relatively recently, despite having known Peter for years before that. They'd grown up together, and they'd dated on and off for some time. Hell, Peter had skipped dates for weird reasons before. Really, MJ should have figured something out. But no, instead, she'd had to find out much, much later, and only by actually running into Spider-Man when his mask had been shredded just enough. Putz.
Peter happened to be on the girl's thoughts as she roamed the deserted streets. Mostly because they'd just gotten word that people had seen it again: the dreaded black costume, the symbiote. Peter had insisted that it couldn't be Brock, since the bulky ruined reporter was still safely accounted for: placed under lock and key by SHIELD (an organization that MJ had found out about before she'd learned Peter's secret). Which meant that someone else, someone new, wore the suit now. Which made Peter all kinds of nervous. It was cute, really, how he'd insisted that MJ not walk the streets alone, especially at night. How he insisted that she at least try to keep in contact with him, or avoid dangerous areas. MJ had told him in no uncertain terms that she could handle herself, thankyouverymuch. She'd done it before, hadn't she? Back before he'd actually revealed the truth?
Peter had then wondered if MJ was ever going to let go of that detail, to which MJ informed him that the moment it stopped being useful or Peter stopped feeling guilty, she might. Or when they finally got married. Maybe. But probably not.
The redhead sighed, her eyes rolling heaven ward for a moment. She loved Peter, she really did, but there were times. Usually involving the whole stupid superhero thing, but occasionally there were other issues. Like dealing with Aunt May, for example. Sweet woman, but Peter acted like she was made of glass. MJ knew better. Or, worse yet, the whole fact that Petey was one hell of a virgin. Apparently he'd never gotten that far with Gwen before, which wasn't all that surprising, and the thing with Kitty had gotten no where, which was a lot more surprising. He said he understood the basics, and judging by the way they'd done some heavy petting, he certainly did, but Petey still held tight to his V-card, and mentioned something about waiting.
Not that MJ was overburdened with experience. She'd lost her cherry in high school, as most attractive girls did, but it wasn't like she'd been the school slut. In fact, she could count the number of guys who'd seen her naked on one hand, and one of those happened to be Peter (another was Wolverine, and that was one hell of a story). Still, she clearly had Peter beat. Though at least he seemed really, really willing to try and eager to please, which was one heck of a good combination.
A yelp distracted MJ. She paused, turning to look down an alley. Sure enough, the yelp repeated, and MJ winced. It sounded like a dog of some kind, one that had been hurt. The redhead looked around, not seeing anyone else in the area. Big surprise there. Sighing, MJ reached up to brush aside some hair, tucking it behind an ear. Sure enough, another yelp sounded. The girl shifted, digging into her purse to drag out a small container of mace. Never knew. Thus armed, MJ crept very, very slowly into the alley.
"Here boy!" she called cautiously, waving her hand in a "come hither" motion. "Come on out boy. Come on. I just want to help..."
though she knew full well that heading into a dark alley with all sorts of things on the loose was not a good plan. But MJ could handle herself.... she knew she could.