06 - dreams

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“No, a little higher,” MJ orders him, and he sighs and rolls his eyes, pushing his fingers higher up her foot and beginning to rub it. “Okay, there.”

“Whatever you want, your highness,” he groans in sarcasm, but she’s just smiling, resting her head on her clasped fingers.

“Glad you’re finally catching on,” she smiles proudly, relaxing with a sigh.

A few minutes ago they were swimming behind their bungalow, when MJ got a foot cramp. So she whined and complained, and Peter can’t even remember how it happened, but he’s now rubbing her foot somehow, and he’s accepted his fate. First fake boyfriend, then teeth brusher, now foot rubber. Who even knows what the next thing she’s going to coax him into is.

She sighs in relaxation, shifting slightly to get comfortable. He hears her breathe out, and she closes her eyes while he digs his thumb into her foot, sort of annoyed by how much she’s enjoying it. His hand is even cramping slightly from applying so much pressure, and he’s sure it has to be hurting her right now with how hard he’s rubbing, but she just seems to enjoy it more and more the rougher he gets.

“Yeah, right there,” she exhales, sighing softly.

He looks at her incredulously, suddenly confused. She has her eyes closed so she can’t see him, but he narrows his eyes at her. He doesn’t know if he’s going insane or what, but this feels like it’s somewhat sexual for her somehow, and he has no idea how it got here. He thinks about what she told him the other day, saying:“Okay, that argument is stupid because foot rubs are totally turn-on worthy.” Is that what this is? Is she actually getting turned on now from him rubbing her feet right now? Or could she just be messing with him? She’s been known to do that before—he wouldn’t put it past her now.

Either way, he’s suddenly having trouble breathing, as she exhales a soft “don’t stop, Peter.”

So he doesn’t. He doesn’t even want to, because when he moves his hands up and over her skin to rub her ankle, he sees her exhale and grasp at the bed sheet on either side of her. There’s no way she’s faking this.

He feels that familiar ache deep in his stomach, especially as he notices her breath getting shallower, and her chest beginning to rise and fall at a quicker pace than normal. It was confusing at first, but now the only thing going through his mind is how much he wants to continue making her feel good, and how he just wants to hear her say his name under her breath like that again.

“Higher,” she pleads quietly, and he takes in a sharp breath, complying. His hands venture further up her skin, using both of them to rake his fingers deep into the muscles of her calves slowly, leisurely. He watches her face, seeing her eyebrows furrow and her bottom lip get caught between her teeth as she lets out a throaty moan, encouraging him further.

One thing he’s learned on this trip is that nothing can get him more turned on than seeing her turned on. And he isn’t sure how he feels about that. Well he knows how he feels about that now, but it’s confusing at any other time when he actually has a clear head.

She’s wearing that crochet dress again, and she’s moaning incessantly now as he moves up to her thigh, unable to catch his breath just watching her.

“God, come here,” she whimpers out raspily, reaching up to grab his face and press her hungry, desperate lips on his. Their hot, wanting mouths collide with each others, and his mind is completely jumbled and confused and disoriented as she slips her tongue in his mouth. He can’t even process anything long enough to wonder why this is happening.

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