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stivibi · 1 year

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Smut request about sex worker peter x mob boss Steve

Just for tonight

AN: Well, nonnie, this was a spicy ask! It rather got away with me to be honest.

This is absolutely over 18’s only, it’s basically just filth. And like a lot of my one-shots - open ended, letting you imagine what happens next (unless I feel the urge to write a sequel).

Also, Sex Work is work. Don’t like, scroll past and get off my blog.

Not Beta’d.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics.

Mood board by me.

Please check out my master list.

Pairing: Sex Worker! Peter Parker/Mob Boss! Steve Rogers

Word Count: 5.2k

CW: Sex worker (discussions of and negotiations), Age Gap (Peter early 20’s, Steve mid-late 30’s)Explicit sexual content (Oral Sex, Rimming, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex) light bondage, light degradation, spanking (once), size kink, pet names, aftercare, explicit language, propositioning, tiny bit of fluff if you squint.

Peter grabbed a glass of sparkling wine from the server walking past, knocking it back with abandon, the bubbles tickling his nose.

Why did I think that attending this party would be a good idea?

Almost as if she could read his mind, MJ sidled up to him, nudging him with her elbow.

“Relax Parker. You’re not going to attract any business looking like a deer caught in headlamps.”

Peter ran his eyes over his friend. She was wearing a shiny black pants suit, although sans shirt, the two button jackets only just covering her breasts, which she’d applied a light dusting of some iridescent powder to.

“I don’t think I’ll get any, anyway. Look at all the others here! No-one's gonna want someone like me.”

His brunette friend snorted. She was used to his self-deprecation, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

“Peter, you wouldn’t have been invited if there wasn’t a market for your look at this shindig. You’re the only certified twink here, I’m surprised that some Cougar or Daddy-type hasn’t already come over here to drag you away.”

Peter rolled his eyes. It’s not like he didn’t like his job. The hours suited him, fitting around his studies, he was his own boss, getting to pick his clients. He and MJ worked together to make a safety net, one always knowing where the other was, checking in before and after each job, and trying not to schedule jobs at the same time, in case an intervention was required.

He’d fallen into it by accident, after meeting a nice looking guy in a bar, who, after having received a blowjob in the bathroom from Peter, had stuffed a couple of hundreds into his jeans pocket, having just assumed he was a cute twink sex worker.

Peter had been a bit shocked and confused, but when he’d spoken to MJ about it the next day, she’d chuckled at him affectionately, revealing that he has been moonlighting in the industry for the past year, and if you did it right, made sure you were safe, and screened your clients, you could make good money from it, just like any other job. She’d helped him market himself, get into the local circle, as it were, and, so far, it was working out for him, although he still got imposter syndrome a lot. He just couldn’t work out what it was about him that people were attracted to.

He had a semi-regular client base now, a couple of older men and a couple of older women. They were all nice, and attractive, enough that it made his work not too onerous. They were respectful, albeit predictable, in their requests, and provided him with a steady paycheck that was helping him through college. He was in his final year and was considering a post-grad, but money was the key to that.

However, when MJ had told him about the event tonight that she had been invited to he’d been intrigued. Full of high-rollers, he’d have the opportunity to make a week’s pay in one night if he attracted the right client. She’d managed to haggle a ticket for him after showing the organiser a photo and then came over to his apartment beforehand to personally style him.

Wet-look, black pants that moulded to his legs and ass, black boots, a cropped white t-shirt, that was so baggy the neckline tried to fall of his shoulder, a bit of gel in his hair to highlight his curls, and a tiny slick of eye-liner - the very definition of twink.

“Anyway,” MJ went on, “It’s only been an hour, I bet the best guests haven’t even arrived yet. And also, they’re gonna want to talk business, or whatever this party is actually for, before trawling for entertainment. Just relax and enjoy the free booze and canapes. Remember, all transactions take place here, in our booked rooms, and nowhere else, no matter how much they ask.”

Peter waved his hand at MJ. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Safety first.” He leant over and gave her a peck on her cheek. “You go circulate and work the room. I’ll stay here and try to look brooding and mysterious.”

The next forty-five minutes passed fairly pleasantly. He leant against the wall, with an unaffected air, sipping on wine and virgin cocktails. He smiled at potential clients, and flirted a little, but so far he didn’t seem to be anyone's particular cup of tea. Well, at least he wasn’t stuck at home and, as MJ said, there were drinks and nibbles, so it wasn’t all bad. He was wondering how his friend was getting on, when a shadow fell across him.

Peter looked up.

And up.

Into a pair of azure blue eyes, filled with an equal mix of mirth and interest.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing…” A smooth baritone voice washed over Peter as he took in the sight before him. The man was tall and handsome, broad at the shoulders, and narrow at the waist. He had blond hair to go with his deep blue eyes. He wore a mid-blue suit with a white dress shirt. Looking the stranger over a bit more, Peter noticed a matching tan leather belt and shoes.

Peter returned his gaze to the man’s face, smiled, and placed his small palms on the man’s muscular chest.

“I could be your pretty little thing if you wanted…” he tipped his head to the side coquettishly. “Mr..?”

“Rogers, but I think I’d like you to call me ‘Sir’.

“Of course, Sir. I’m Peter, but you can call me whatever you want.”

“You got somewhere we can go?” The bass rumble of the man’s, Mr Rogers, voice vibrated through Peter’s body, going straight to his cock, which was very interested in these proceedings.

“I’ve got a room upstairs, all set up.”

“Excellent. Lead the way, pretty thing.”

Peter walked towards the elevator, swaying his hips and looking over his shoulder. He really hoped this guy could deliver on all he was promising, cos fuck, what he wouldn’t give for a really good fucking. God, all his instincts were screaming for him to give it to this man for free.

He caught MJ’s eye, where she was in conversation with a red-headed lady in a full-length, plunge neck, black velvet ball-gown. He smiled at her, and she nodded back, indicating that she thought she’d be up in her room shortly too.

The elevator came and Rogers crowded Peter into the small space, as the young man leant across to press the button for his floor. The man’s eyes roved over him in the harsher lights of the car, before bringing a hand up to brush over Peter’s pink, plush lips. A calloused thumb pulled down at his lower lip, and he snuck his tongue out to brush over the tip, keeping his brown eyes fixed on the blue of his client.

“Are you a brat or a good boy, Peter?”

“Which would you like, Sir?”

“I can work with your natural inclinations.”

The corner of Rogers’ lips twitched up in amusement and Peter took the opportunity to tease a little. He walked his fingers up the button’s of the crisp white shirt, and took hold of the blue tie, pulling on it to make the blond lean his head down.

“Then I leave it a surprise for you to find out then…Sir”

He brushed his lips over Rogers ’in a ghost of a kiss, and then ducked under his arm as the elevator door opened. His client shook his head, with a wide grin on his face, as Peter backed towards his room with an answering smile, unlocking the door with a practised hand and inviting the tall man inside.

“Take a seat, Sir. Would you like a beer?”

“What a wonderful host you are, Peter.”

The young man blushed at the praise and retrieved a bottle of Bud from the mini-bar. Having removed the cap, he passed it over and then grabbed some paperwork from the desk. He perched on the arm of the easy chair that Roger’s had sprawled in and held out the papers.

“This is my ‘menu’ for want of a better phrase. Please mark off what you’re wanting from me, cash up-front and please sign to say you’ve understood what’s off limits. I use the traffic light system and condoms are non-negotiable. If you want to add anything part way through, we’ll pause for a brief discussion and make any payment adjustment at the end.”

The large blond’s eyes roved over the papers, flicking up and down the list and turning over the sheet to see what was off limits.

“You sure you’ve never been a boy scout, pretty boy?”

“No, just sensible with a good mentor. Safety first. I’ll let you read through whilst I just head to the bathroom.”

“Don’t change, please. I want to peel you out of that sinful outfit when I desire.”

Peter pulled his lower lip between his teeth and gazed into Rogers’ eyes.

“Whatever you say, Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Peter sashayed into the bathroom, before shutting and bolting the door behind him. He turned on the faucet and rested his hands on the sink as it began to fill, taking in deep breaths and mentally preparing himself. He quickly stripped and gave himself a wash down. He’d done a thorough job before setting out tonight, but just wanted a quick refresh. He brushed his teeth and checked his hair, before drying himself and popping his pants and t-shirt back on. He left his shoes off, certain that Rogers wasn’t going to be worried about those.

When he returned to the main room, he saw that Rogers’ had removed his suit jacket and tie. Peter’s paperwork and a pile of cash was sitting on the coffee table as the large man finished off his beer. Peter picked up the document and read through what was being asked of him. Steve wanted the works; oral (giving and receiving), penetration (giving) after preparation with fingers and mouth. He wanted the option of marking Peter with his mouth, carrying out cum play, mild restraints and mild impact play. He also wanted Peter to call him Sir, throughout. He’d signed to say that he understood that toilet play, blood play, and heavy degradation were off limits and that he agreed with the traffic light system. Peter added his signature too, then picked up the agreement and the cash, which he quickly looked at, and placed them in the room safe.

He turned back to Rogers’ who was looking at him like a predator eyeing up his next meal.

“Now that the formalities are out of the way, Sir, how would you like to start?”

His client spread his legs wider. “You can start by bringing yourself and that pretty mouth over here, doll.”

Peter kept his eyes on him, nibbling on his lower lip and swinging his hips as he moved the couple of feet back across the room. He dropped to his knees and started to run his hands up and down the thick, clothed thighs either side of him. He nuzzled his cheek against the soft fabric, and moved his hands up towards the tan belt. Roger’s kept his hands on the arms of the chair, but his breathing picked up at the sight of the pretty young man knelt between his legs.

Peter unbuckled the belt with ease, and unzipped the fly of the blue pants. The outline of a heavy cock was obvious through the stretch cotton of black boxer briefs, and he shifted to rub his face over it. There was a small wet patch near the head, and Peter sucked gently on the fabric, a sense of accomplishment running through him at the low growl the blond emanated. Rising up on his knees he took hold of the waistband of the briefs and pulled them down, revealing a cock which filled Peter with want, and tucked them under a pair of equally impressive balls. He could help but let out a curse.

“Fuck… wow.” Steve chuckled before moving one of his hands to tangle in Peter’s hair and draw him down. The young man took his client in hand, fingers barely meeting and started to run his tongue up the fat length in front of him. He placed open mouthed kisses over it, until Rogers tugged on his hair with more urgency. Making sure their eyes were locked, Peter moved his lips to enclose the large tip and started to suckle. The blond’s head tipped back on the chair and his large hand caressed Peter’s neck as he bobbed up and down, his hand jacking the lower half of the spectacular cock.

Peter worked himself lower and lower, until the head pushed past his gag reflex and he began to swallow around Rogers. With his free hand he started to roll the impressive balls, and when he had to come up for air, he took one, then the other, in his mouth. Rogers’ breathing picked up and with a growl he pulled the young man up and onto his lap, slim thighs spread over him. He pulled him into a deep kiss, moaning into Peter’s mouth, licking into it with his own strong tongue. All Peter could think about was how the tongue was going to be lapping over him later, and he whined in response, his hips rolling instinctively, his arms wrapping around the corded shoulders and neck.

In one move Rogers stood, lifting Peter as though he weighed nothing, and took a few large strides towards the large bed, before dropping Peter onto it.

“My turn now, pretty thing.” Peter lay sprawled on the comforter, and watched as his client divested himself of his shirt, toe-ed off his shoes and removed his pants and briefs in almost one move. Peter could feel himself salivating. The man was bronzed all over, covered in firm, cut muscles and a light smattering of chest hair that Peter couldn’t wait to run his hands over. Rogers knelt down at the foot of the bed, took hold of Peter’s ankles and pulled him down in one move until his ass was only just on the mattress. Large fingers then took hold of the top of his pants and peeled them down, leaving him in his cropped t-shirt a little red thong.

“Fuck, baby. You look absolutely delicious.” Rogers pushed Peter’s thighs apart, settling between them and pressed kisses to the soft skin of his inner thighs. His large nose pressed up against Peter’s balls within their fabric covering, nuzzling in and inhaling the young man’s clean scent.

“I’m gonna wreck you so good, sweet thing, and what are you going to say?”

“Th… Thank you, Sir.

“Good, boy.”

Peter’s body shivered at the praise and Rogers chuckled.

“So that’s how it is, huh? Just made my night more interesting.” He took hold of the small scrap of fabric and dragged it from the slim body. “Well, well, what have we here? Just as pretty as the rest of ya’.” He licked up the boy’s cock and then engulfed it in his mouth. Peter’s hands fisted the sheets and his hips bucked up.

“Fuck! Sir, oh god!” Rogers just hummed, the vibrations causing Peter’s eyes to roll back in his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on the receiving end of a blow job, let alone one like this. Large fingers gripped him, holding him still, gently but firmly. Peter could feel Rogers’ tongue pressing up against the underside of his cock, rubbing rhythmically. Whines and moans left his mouth.

“Sir, oh! So good, feels so good!”

Rogers let him go with a lewd pop.

“You like that pretty boy, you’re gonna love this.”

He threw Peter’s legs up over his broad shoulders then pulled him by the hips to press his mouth flush against his furled hole. He growled as he licked over the crinkled flesh, his tongue covering it in plenty of saliva. Peter was finding the sensations almost too much to bear, his grip on the sheets turning his knuckles white, unable to speak any coherent words. When the strong, flexible muscle speared its way inside him, he cried out, which only seemed to make Rogers’ double down.

Peter’s head was fuzzy with desire as pleasure washed over him. Firm fingers held his ass cheeks apart, the tongue was worming it’s way as deep in him as possible and Rogers’ nose was pressed up against his taint. Peter moved one of his hands to tangle in the blond hair that was pressed between his thighs.

“I’m too close, Sir… fuck!” He didn’t want the man to stop, but he was so close to coming. He could almost feel the reluctance with which Rogers pulled away from him, before the large man slid up Peter’s body, his blue eyes gazing into the younger’s brown ones as he pulled the baggy top up and over the mop of brown curls.

“Look at us, sweetheart…” Rogers’ deep voice rumbled and he directed Peter’s gaze down to where their cocks were nestled side by side. Now, Peter had never been insecure about himself, he knew what he had (purely average) but he knew how to use it (above average in his humble opinion) but next to the sheer size of his client, he couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated and a lot excited. A blush rose up his cheeks and he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Fuck, that was going to go in him. His tongue peaked out to lick his lips which had gone suddenly dry. Rogers reached down with one of his large hands and wrapped it around the pair of them, jerking slowly and gently, and Peter bucked his hips and threw back his head.

“You like that baby? You like that I’m so big and you’re so small. You’re like a delicate little angel and I’m gonna ruin you so good…do you want that, pretty boy?”

“Yes, Sir, please. I want it so much.” Peter was so full of need, so full of desire, that he had mostly forgotten this was a job. He was so turned on and desperate. At his whimpered confession Rogers captured his lips again, deep and dominating. Peter was aware of the man leaning across him, having let go of their cocks, to reach the bottle of lube that was sitting, waiting. The snick of the cap was quiet, but the squelching sound as the blond squeezed some out onto his hand was lewdly loud in the relative silence of the room. He continued to kiss Peter as his slick hand slid between the boy’s thighs, massaging against his already slightly relaxed hole.

Peter gasped at the chill, before bringing his knees up and then letting them fall to the side, giving the man more access. He wasn’t surprised to discover that Rogers knew exactly what he was doing; he wasn’t rushing the proceedings, which Peter greatly appreciated. It was several minutes before the large man slid his forefinger inside to the first knuckle, and Peter moaned into his mouth.

“Sir…”

Rogers worked his digit slowly, pulling gently at Peter’s rim and working the rest of it in, thrust by thrust. Peter’s body relaxed around the invasion until the broad finger was gliding in and out of his welcoming body. Rogers moved his mouth to Peter’s neck, kissing and licking at the delicate skin. When his lips reached the boy’s collar bone he sucked hard, raising a bruise, before travelling lower and biting on the small, but firm pectorals.

“Ready for another finger, doll?”

“Yes, Sir,” Peter sighed. “Want all of you.”

“Greedy boy…” A second finger slid in beside the first and the fullness made Peter feel dizzy.

“So full, Sir!”

“Oh, this is nothing, sweet thing…” Rogers’ scissored his fingers, twisting his hand at the wrist and stretching Peter out thoroughly. The young man had both hands fisted in his client’s hair as the blond continued to kiss and suck and bite across his chest, and slid his two large fingers inside him. The pleasure brought by the third being introduced made tears appear in his eyes.

“You’re almost ready for me, my pretty boy. Soon, soon, I promise.”

“I need you, need you so much, Sir. Can’t wait to have you in me. Fuck…”

The wet sounds of the fingering were loud and obscene in the room, mixing with Peter’s moans and sighs. He whined when Rogers fingers slid free of him and the man rolled to the side to take hold of the small foil packet on the side table. He tore it open and rolled the condom onto his thick length. Then he got up, much to Peter’s confusion, until he reached the other side of his room and picked up his tie from where he’d discarded it. Peter’s eyes widened in understanding and he raised himself upon his knees.

“You still green, doll?

“Absolutely, Sir.”

“Turn around then.”

Peter shuffled around and Rogers’ gently bound his wrists together, behind his back. The big man then lay down on the bed and lifted Peter, so he was straddling the broad hips, and had Rogers’ thick cock nestling between his ass cheeks.

“I want you to use these gorgeous thighs of yours and ride me, pretty thing, but I’ll help you, okay?”

“Yes, Sir…”

Rogers slicked more lube over the condom and gave Peter a tap on one cheek to get him to rise up. The young man felt the broad head nudging at his hole and he started to bear down on it, bouncing lightly until it popped past the ring of muscle, punching the air from his throat. An answering groan came from Rogers.

“That’s it baby, ride my cock, work it all in, like the good boy I know you can be…”

Peter whined and writhed as he slowly worked himself up and down, the stretch and the overwhelming ‘full’ feeling taking him over. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt the prickle from the thatch of blond pubes against his ass, signalling that he’d managed to take all of the man.

“You okay, Peter?” In an oddly tender moment, Rogers pushed a curl out of Peter’s eyes, searching the young man’s face for any sign of discomfort. Peter just grinned at him though, clenching down.

“So okay, Sir. Fucking love your cock. Fills me so good…” He circled his hips a few times, before lifting himself up and then sliding back down. He set up a steady pace and looked down at Rogers from under his eyelashes, every so often bringing in a circle motion and watching the older man smile and groan in pleasure. The fat cock inside him was sliding over his prostate and he was damned if he wasn’t going to get as much pleasure from this transaction as possible.

He almost breathed a sigh of relief though when he felt those large hands take hold of his hips and start to help him.

“Look so pretty riding me, doll, riding your ‘Sir’. God, wish I could have you like this all the time. Ready and waiting for me. Dress you in the prettiest things, baby, show you off. Let everyone know you’re all mine.”

Peter was used to a level of possessive ‘in the heat of the moment’ talk from his clients, but for some reason Roger’s words hit differently. He could tell this man actually meant it, and god help him if there wasn’t a small part of him that wanted it too; to be kept by this man, be at his beck and call, whenever he wanted Peter to warm his cock, in whichever way he saw fit. His own, smaller cock twitched at the thought, where it stood almost touching his own stomach, tip an angry red and weeping copious pre-cum.

“You want that too, don’t you sweetheart. Can tell. You’re gone for this dick, aintcha? Gone all cockdrunk. Can’t even think now, can ya?”

“Sir…” Peter wasn’t even sure if he was agreeing, or questioning or pleading at this point. However, there was one thing he was sure of. “‘M getting tired, Sir.” His movements faltered as his thigh muscles burned.

“‘S’okay baby, I gotchu, I gotchu.” The large hands lifted him and he moaned at the loss of the cock from inside him. “Shhh, sshhh, you’re gonna get it back, sweetheart. Gonna fill you all up, till you’re cryin’ and beggin’ for me.”

Rogers laid Peter face down on the bed, then pulled his hips up.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” He slapped both his hands against Peter’s buttocks, not too hard, but hard enough to leave pink marks and elicit a small squeal. “Fuckin’ love that noise too. Can see how that little cock o’ yours is leaking.”

Peter shivered and Rogers curled his large, warm, body over his back and breathed into his ear.

“This is it, pretty thing, this is where I ruin you, and the only thing you will be able to say, the only thing you will be able to think is ‘Sir’. You still good?”

“Still green, Sir. So fucking green. I need it, please!”

Rogers didn’t need any more encouragement, just pushed his way back into Peter’s welcoming body. This position meant he could drive himself deeper and harder, and he slowly upped his pace. One hand gripped Peter’s hips and the other held onto the tie, where it was still wrapped around Peter’s wrists.

“Fuck, taking it so good. So fucking good, baby.” He was like a man possessed, thrusting into Peter’s smaller body with abandon, each movement forcing a small cry or moan out of him, and then each of those cries seeming to turn Rogers on even more. His hands shifted, one sliding on to Peter’s chest, pushing him up against his own, and the other moving to take hold of Peter’s weeping cock. Peter looked down and saw it had almost disappeared in the man’s big hand, just the tip peeking out as he was jacked.

Rogers purred in his ear again. “You gonna come pretty boy? Come on this cock of mine, squeeze it real hard and make a mess of my hand, like the little slut that you are? You’re my slut, aren’t you, baby? Say it. Tell me whose slut you are.”

“Yours, Sir, I’m your slut. Gonna make a mess for you. Fucking love it…”

He came with a cry, clenching and jerking around Rogers cock, that was still spearing him. Shocks of pleasure darted through his slim frame, in one rolling orgasm, and his head fell back against the big man’s shoulder. He floated, only just aware of the final few thrusts into his spent body, as Rogers grunted into his ear.

Rogers gently lowered Peter down, withdrawing from him, discarding the condom into the waste bin and grabbing a bottle of water from the mini bar. Next he released the young man’s wrists and started to rub up and down his arms to ease any cramps as the blood began to flow properly again. He settled behind him pulling Peter against the warmth of his own body, pressing soft kisses to the boy’s spine and shoulders as he came back up. As Peter started to stir, Rogers cracked open the bottle cap, glad it was a sports top and held it up to the brunet’s lips.

“That’s it sweetheart, take a good drink. You must be worn out after being so good for me. Would you like me to run you a bath?”

Peter swallowed down the cool liquid and then blushed. Not all his clients were so good with the aftercare.

“Oh, no, that’s okay, Mr Rogers. You don’t have to do that.”

The blond’s lips turned up in a small smile.

“I was quite getting used to you calling me ‘Sir’. But I understand.” He stood up from the bed and started to retrieve his clothes. “Am I okay to use your shower?”

“Absolutely… Sir.” Peter shot him a smile that made Rogers chuckle.

“So now you brat. I’m learning a lot about you Peter.” He disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the shower, although didn’t shut the door.

Peter got up from the bed on wobbly legs, and grabbed his red satin robe from the wardrobe, belting it around his waist. He found his phone and shot MJ a quick text to tell her he was alright, and that he’d text again when everything was finished. He saw it was delivered but not read, so guessed she had her own client, maybe the red-headed woman she’d been talking to earlier.

“You all checked in then, sweet thing?” Peter spun around, feeling as though he’d been caught doing something wrong, cheeks pinking in embarrassment. Rogers had redressed in his suit pants and dress shirt, tie poking out of his pants pocket and he was rubbing his still damp hair with a small towel.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m impressed by how sensible you are. It’s good to take safety precautions in this line of work. I hope you never need them.”

He threw the towel back into the bathroom and moved over to where Peter stood, cupping the boy’s pink cheeks in his hands.

“You’re something special, Peter. And I meant what I said. I’d really like to have you be with me. Work for me. On an exclusive basis. I’d treat you right, I hope you know that? Get you a nice place to live, a regular wage with a contract, the whole thing. I’m not sure one taste is going to be enough.”

Peter’s cheeks got even redder, and he eased himself away, moving to put the easy chair between them.

“That’s… um… a really nice offer and all, but I… um… I’m good, thanks. Not really looking for that kind of arrangement.”

Rogers smiled at him, indulgently and moved over to the desk. He pulled a card out of his wallet and wrote something on the back of it, before propping it against the base of the lamp.

“Well, when you change your mind, just give me a call, sweetheart.” He swaggered towards the suite door and pulled it open.

“Don’t you mean ‘if’, Mr Rogers.”

“No, Peter. I mean ‘when’. People don’t often tell me no, and I have a feeling you won’t want to. See you soon, pretty thing.”

The door snicked closed behind him and Peter let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. He wobbled over to the desk and picked up the card. And then almost immediately dropped it when he saw the amount of money Rogers was offering for exclusivity. Maybe he had been right to be certain on the ‘when’.

Peter sat down on the bed to think. This wasn’t a decision he could make lightly. He picked his phone back up and saw his message to MJ had been delivered. He texted out a message to her.

Peter: Can I come to your room, I need to ask your advice on something…

Tag list: @mrs-mischief-209 @marvelstarker-mha98

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