[Third Person Pov]

MJ and Peter lay tangled together in the soft, rumpled sheets of their bed, the morning light filtering through the half-drawn curtains in a warm golden haze. Peter’s body was a canvas of fading scratches, bite marks, and faint bruises—souvenirs from their earlier passion—that were already healing rapidly thanks to his enhanced metabolism. MJ traced her fingertips slowly along the defined lines of his chest, her touch feather-light yet possessive. She leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to each mark as if sealing them with her affection.

Peter’s hand rested firmly on her smooth thigh, which was draped casually across his waist. His fingers flexed occasionally, savoring the warmth of her skin. MJ’s eyes were half-lidded with lingering desire as she gazed up at him, a spark of lustful possession burning in her emerald gaze. She reached up, cupping his cheek tenderly, then nestled her face into the crook of his neck. Her lips brushed against his pulse point in slow, savoring kisses, tasting the salt of his skin and the faint scent of their shared exertion.

A shiver raced down Peter’s spine. His grip on her thigh tightened instinctively, pulling her closer with that same intense hunger. His other hand slid lower, cupping the generous curve of her ass and drawing a pleased hum from her throat.

Their breathing eventually slowed, heavy and satisfied in the quiet aftermath of their intimacy. Peter broke the comfortable silence first, his voice laced with teasing affection and a mock-worried expression. "You know, I’m really starting to grow concerned here."

"About?" MJ asked, tilting her head curiously, though a playful smile tugged at her lips.

"That one day I’m going to wake up and find Dracula herself feasting on my body," Peter said with a low chuckle, gesturing to the constellation of marks across his torso.

MJ slapped his chest lightly, her cheeks flushing with a delightful shade of pink. "Stop it! I couldn’t help myself... I just get too into it when it’s you."

Peter’s chuckle turned into full laughter as he rolled them across the bed, wrapping MJ securely in his arms. They tumbled playfully, limbs entangled, until they settled again in a warm, contented silence. Peter stroked her back gently before asking, "So, what exactly was that thing you wanted to talk to me about with your mother and sister?"

MJ sighed, nuzzling closer. "Well, first off, it’s my sister. She’s coming over with her husband, and I really, really don’t want to face that alone with just Mom. I was hoping you’d join me. I’d feel so much better with you there as backup."

"Of course," Peter replied without hesitation, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "So you two still don’t get along, huh?"

"Ugh... don’t even get me started," MJ groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. "She still blames me for putting our dad in jail. As if I was the one who made him a criminal."

A flash of irritation crossed Peter’s face. "Are we sure the two of you are actually related? Or is she just adopted? How can someone that unpleasant come from your mother?"

MJ giggled, the sound light and musical. "Well... she was pretty close to our father growing up."

"That explains it," Peter said, rolling his eyes in exaggerated sympathy. The motion sent MJ into another fit of giggles, which escalated until she released the most adorable little snort. Peter’s grin widened at the sound.

"Ugh, I just know the whole family dinner is going to be dreadful," MJ whined, burying her face against his chest. "I really, really don’t want to participate. Do you think if I ’break’ my arm that would be a good excuse? It’d heal in minutes anyway."

Peter shook his head with a wise nod. "No, no—that still leaves you stuck at home ’recuperating.’ Here’s the plan: we’ll say I got into a nasty car crash and you have to stay by my side. You’re really sorry, but you’ll make the next one. Foolproof."

MJ burst into cackling laughter, the sound filling the room. "Hahaha! That’s genius! Let’s do it."

They spent the next several minutes inventing increasingly ridiculous excuses—everything from sudden alien invasions to Peter needing emergency surgery—until their shared laughter echoed off the walls, chasing away the lingering dread of family obligations.

As the laughter faded, Peter ran his fingers through her wild, fiery hair. "And the thing with your mother?"

"Oh... right," MJ said more softly, her expression sobering. She bit her lip. She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "I don’t think it’s fair that my mother is the only one who doesn’t know about my powers or my secret identity."

"Well, to be fair, Harry and Lizzy still haven’t told their parents either," Peter pointed out before kissing her cheek.

"I know, I know," MJ sighed. "But I’m mostly talking about us. You know? Gwen told her dad, and Felicia recently told her mother too. Uncle Ben and Aunt May were the first people to know everything. It just feels unfair that my mom’s the only one completely left out... especially with the whole super soldier serum thing."

Peter wrapped both arms around her and held her close. "It’s alright, Red," he murmured. "If you think it’s finally time to tell your mom, then I’ll be right there with you. We’ll do it together so you don’t have to handle it alone."

MJ’s expression softened immediately. She leaned up and kissed him slowly, lingering against his lips. "Thank you, Tiger," she whispered. "I know I can always count on you."

With a reluctant groan, MJ pushed herself up, brushing her voluminous hair back from her face and tugging the blanket modestly over her chest. "I’m going to shower. Want to join me?" 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝙚𝙬𝓮𝙗𝒏𝙤𝒗𝙚𝙡.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Peter’s response was immediate and deadpan serious. "MJ, my love, if there ever comes a day when I say no to that question, I want you to buy the biggest gun you can find—a Desert Eagle, an M16, whatever suits your fancy—and shoot me in the head. Repeatedly."

MJ dissolved into giggles again, rolling her eyes fondly. "Let’s just go, you dork. We can patrol afterward and kill time until lunch."

As she stood and sauntered toward the bathroom, Peter let out a contented sigh, his eyes appreciatively following the sway of her hips. "Hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go."

"Stop being a perv and get in here!" she called back, laughter in her voice.

"Yes, ma’am," Peter replied obediently, kicking off the covers and joining her with a grin.

---

After a long, steamy shower filled with more laughter and stolen touches, the couple suited up. Peter in his classic blue-and-black Spider-Man suit, MJ in her sleek Scarlet-Spider ensemble—crimson and black with her signature web pattern. They swung out into the bustling city, the morning air crisp and invigorating as they patrolled the streets from above.

Their first stop came in a quiet parking lot behind a row of brownstones. A nervous-looking man in a hoodie was working a crowbar into the door of a sleek black sedan, his movements jerky with paranoia. With a sharp metallic pop, the lock gave way. He grinned triumphantly and slid into the driver’s seat, fumbling under the steering column to hot-wire the vehicle.

He’d barely touched the wires when a soft cough echoed from the back seat.

The thief’s heart nearly exploded out of his chest. He whipped around, eyes wide with terror, only to lock gazes in the rearview mirror with two masked figures lounging casually in the back like they were waiting for an Uber.

Scarlet-Spider—MJ—waved cheerfully, her eyes crinkling with amusement behind her mask. "Hi there!"

"Shit, man! Fuck!" the thief yelped, dropping his tools with a clatter. "How the hell is a thief supposed to make a living out here with you bastards around?!"

Spider-Man snickered, leaning forward. "I don’t mean to frighten you, buddy, but have you heard of a thing called a job?"

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