Omg i didn’t know you are doing the fictober thingy . Could I pretty please request a “Is this supposed to impress me?” and/or “This was not part of the plan” for our lovebirds MJ & Peter ?
day twenty seven: i think i like, living upside down
It's been a long day. Longer than MJ would like for a Friday afternoon but it is what it is. It's not like she has plans to rush home for - just a mountain of marking and some tenth grade exams she thinks might push her over the edge.
So she'll sit at her desk a little longer. Maybe she's waiting for Mr Parker to put on his daily display - but that's no-ones business but her own.
He's never really spoken to her during the day and at lunch whenever she looks at him he goes beet red and avoids her gaze. So she's not sure where the confidence comes from after school. But she doesn't mind.
She can be the first one to break the ice if he wants. After all, he does put on a show for her everyday.
He steps into view right on cue and MJ swings her legs up onto her desk. He takes his time pulling his tie from his neck and she can see the tension in his face from here. She shouldn't be glad he clearly had a hard class. But she can't help the way she pulls her lip between her teeth because when Mr Parker is worked up, he works out a little harder.
He pulls his shirt off and she can't help the moan quiet moan that leaves her throat. She runs to check her door is locked, not that she'd ever do something scandalous in her classroom. Well, unless he was here with her then she'd think about it.
He's already started his pull ups when she sits back down and she leans on her desk, head in hand as she watches the taut muscles of abs constricting as she lifts his legs in the air. She's not sure why she got so lucky that he changes out of his suit into just a pair of running shorts but she doesn't care to ask when his thighs look like that.
She's not sure what he's holding onto. The windows aren't particularly wide in her room, though she guesses he has a pull up bar or something.
He looks right at her. And every time he does she somehow chickens out and leaves, not wanting him to think she's perving on him even though his classroom is directly opposite hers. Two stories high across the playground, so there's no one else he could possibly be putting on a show for. There's no one next to her, her classroom being the last in the building and the room next door is a supply closet.
So she thinks fuck it. It's Friday and she wants to know what his biceps feel like in her hands. She grabs her bag, shoving the exams into it as she marches from her classroom and goes to find his.
She's outside his door quicker than she would have liked and she checks her makeup on her phone. She looks pretty good for four-thirty on a Friday and Mr Parker is going to be sweaty as fuck so she figures it's fine.
When she looks through the small window of glass she sees he's still in there, though his arms have widened to her favourite version of pull ups and she swallows her moan as she opens the door.
"Is this supposed to impress me?" she asks, the door closing with a click.
"What the -" he shouts, pulling his feet to the ceiling and it would be impressive as hell if she wasn't distracted by the fact that he's holding onto the ceiling with his fingertips only.
"Ms Jones," he stutters.
"How are you doing that?" she asks, dropping her bag and walking over towards him to see if there is something she's missing.
"Er," he replies and she's pretty sure he's sweating more now than he was when he was working out.
She raises her eyebrow at him, the motion clearly spooking him as his fingers drop from the ceiling.
"Oh my God!" she exclaims, arms out as if she's going to be quick enough to catch him before he hits the floor. But he doesn't fall. He's stuck to the ceiling by his feet.
"This was not part of the plan," he mutters, a pained look on his face as he drops to the floor, landing perfectly on his feet and not on his face like she should have.
"What the fuck?!"
"Funny story," he huffs out, his hand running through his hair and she's distracted by the standing on the ceiling nonsense because his arms this close should be criminal.
"Wait - what was supposed to impress you?" he asks and she realises now that he clearly wasn't showing off. He probably has no idea who she is and didn't notice her at all. Wow. If she faked her death now, would it be believable? Maybe she should bribe him and she won't tell anyone about his ability to stand on the ceiling if he won't mock her for thirsting over him when he barely knew she existed.
"Oh, erm, nothing," she replies feeling like she's back in high school with a crush she can't control over someone who's never looked at her twice.
“Just a thought though... you might want to close the curtains before you work out. Maybe. Okay bye.”
She turns to run, fuck the exams everyone failed anyway. Maybe she could move? But as she gets closer to the door she hears a thwip and the latch is covered in white webbing.
Weird.
Wait -
"You're Spider-Man?!" she whispers, her face furrowed because obviously, he is. And she finds it strange that he's told her that before he's even told her his first name.
"You didn't figure that out from the ceiling?!" he asks and she'd think he was laughing at her if he wasn't looking mortified that he outed himself for no reason at all.
"I was distracted!" MJ replies, her arms flailing at the ridiculousness of this situation. His face softens and then a small smirk appears on his lips as he walks closer to her.
"By what?" he asks, voice low and she swears he flexes his abs on purpose.
"Nothing."
"Uh-huh, were you at least impressed?" he asks, barely a foot away from her now and he's practically backed her against the wall and she'd be nervous if he wasn't so cute.
"Maybe," she whispers, her gaze flicking across his face. He places his hands against her waist and his fingertips touch as he winds his hands around her back.
"Do you want to get dinner with me?" he asks.
"No."
"Oh," he replies, pulling back so quickly he almost tugs her shirt off. "Sure, sorry. That was - stupid. Sorry, I didn't mean to," he stutters, ripping the webbing from the door.
"I just," she says, her fingers twisting against each other. God, she's mortified but she doesn't want him to ask her out because she knows his secret.
"I won't tell anyone. So you don't have to -"
He cocks his head and it's infuriating how attracted to him she is.
"I've wanted to ask you out since I first started working here," he replies like it's obvious. Like they've ever really spoken outside work meetings.
"Why didn't you?"
"You're terrifyingly beautiful," he huffs, then, "no-one has ever said a bad word about you. The students love you and I think if any one of them ever found out they'd probably slash my bike tyres every day for the rest of my life. I didn't think you'd be interested and I didn't want to ruin our professional relationship that I'm yet to attempt to achieve because of my aforementioned points."
"You're adorable."
He groans but grins at her, taking a step closer to her again.
"Peter," he says, holding his hand out, she takes it, pulling him closer to her until his nose is brushing hers.
"Michelle," she whispers, her gaze dropping to his lips.
"It's nice to meet you, Michelle," he replies, finally pressing his lips against hers.
