Okay, so, I know this is a crack pairing, but I try to make it work. This was originally posted... elsewhere. For those who have read my Bleach and/or Naruto fics, I urge you to try this one, even if you don't like comics. Who knows? It might spark an interest in comics. Without further ado, I present to you Snikt Thwip.
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel. I just put 'em together.
Peter Parker sighed as he shot a web line at the nearest skyscraper, launching himself forward another several yards. "Boy, does being single suck," he thought drearily. "It sucks more than a straw, or a hoover, or Keanu Reeves after the Matrix. I wish Mary Jane and I hadn't broken up, but I guess that's my fault, just like everything else. Still, all those years we were together... it felt like we were married. And for us to break up over one little thing like that? Seems almost implausible. Like God just said, 'Hey, I've got a new way to screw with Peter Parker! Man, I hate that jerk.'" He paused his inner monologue to shoot a web at a fleeing criminal, allowing the woman whose purse he'd stolen to beat him senseless.
"But seriously, besides the fact that I don't have Mary Jane anymore, I'm pretty lonely. Also, I'm a virgin, which normally isn't something I'm too concerned about, but today's a slow day, so I get to be rather brooding and whiny when I don't have morons to punch. Where are the punchable morons when I need them?"
He landed on the rooftop of a pizzeria on 96th. "Hmm. I guess I could grab a quick slice... Got paid for my pics today, and really, Famiglia is the best. Eh, what the hell. I'll go for it." He turned around and jumped in surprise at the sight of the girl in front of him. To a normal onlooker, nothing about the girl would seem at all frightening; she had beautiful, emerald green eyes, long black hair and a fantastic body.
But that was to a normal onlooker.
"Oh God, it's you," he said impulsively.
"Hello," said X-23 plainly.
"Look, I'm sorry about the whole 'throwing you at a psychopathic exploding kid' thing. I was thinking on the fly, which I'm obviously not good at, and, uh... Please don't try to kill me. I'm not in the mood for a throwdown with any non-morons, especially not with a pretty girl like you."
"I'm not here to kill you."
"You aren't?" he asked, surprised, then mentally chastised himself, thinking, "Well, duh. She didn't set off your Spider-Sense."
"Then... what are you here for?"
"You're here to apologize."
"You're here to-" "Aaagh, stop it," he thought, mentally slapping himself. "You're talking like some kind of crappy writer who's probably bald." "Anyway, what do you need to apologize for?"
"I called you crazy and told you that I and Wolverine hate you. But that's untrue. I don't think you're crazy, and I do not hate you. I do not believe Wolverine hates you, either."
"No, I'm pretty sure he does."
"He indicates otherwise with the way he speaks of you."
"Huh. Fancy that. So you just came to apologize for that?"
"Really, you didn't need to. Some of my best friends have kicked my butt and never said a thing afterward."
"I am trying to establish and mend relationships. Wolverine said to me that one of the best ways to do so is to apologize to those you have wronged. Most that I have wronged are dead-"
"Hey, me too."
"-So I decided to come find you."
"And how'd you do that?"
"I know you."
"Oh, right, my scent. Forgot you and Logan can do that."
"No, I mean I know your name. You are Peter Benjamin Parker of Forest Hills, Queens."
Peter's jaw dropped, filling his mouth with the taste of mask. "What the- How did you- You couldn't-"
"I learned it as I tried to find you, earlier."
"That's crazy, I would never-" Peter thought back.
"Well well, look at Mister Peter Benjamin Parker, on time for once!" said Harry Osborn, a cocky grin on his face as Peter exited an alleyway.
"Why, Mister Harold Osborn, if I didn't know any better, I would have guessed you were implying that I am usually late," Peter replied, reflecting Harry's expression.
"Nonsense, Mister Parker."
"Oh, yeah, I guess I did. Oops."
"You should be careful so soon after removing your costume."
"Do not worry. I have not told anyone else."
"Good, good..."Awkward silence. Peter faked a cough. "Well! Thanks for, uh, coming all the way out here to apologize, but I'm sure you have some sort of mission with the X-Men or X-Force or X-Mas or somesuch, and I don't want to keep you, so, uh-"
"I would actually like to spend more time with you."
"... What?" was all he could say.
"I have read the files on you, Pe-"
"Please, just Spider-Man while I'm in costume."
"-Spider-Man, then. I find I am intrigued by you. You have suffered a great deal and are harangued by most everyone, yet you continue to risk your life to save others. Why do you do so much to help the people of this city, or even the whole world, when the world seems to provide nothing but horrible things for you?"
He smiled. "You know, I ask myself that question more times in a day than I can count. See, I've got all these amazing, spectacular powers, right? I crawl walls, I punch really hard, I shoot the little web dealies, it's all cool and sweet and I could probably turn an easy buck using 'em. But... a long time ago, I made a huge mistake, and it ended up getting the guy I admired most in the world killed. He taught me a valuable lesson: With great power, there must also come great responsibility."
She fell silent, the faintest tint of a blush on her soft, pale cheeks. "That is... very noble."
"Thanks," he said, smiling beneath the mask. "But like you said, sometimes the universe likes to give me a swirlie, and then other times it likes to give me a wedgie, and I guess it's good that they at least flush first - on the swirlie, not the wedgie, though if flushing is involved in any way I would prefer if they did - and I guess all these highschool throwbacks come from that painful period in my life where I didn't know there were bigger jerks out in the real world than there were in school, and-" he paused. "Uh, sorry. I'm babbling, aren't I?"
"Do not worry," she replied, "I like men who talk a lot... my childhood was so full of silence or violent noises that I grew to hate silence... I enjoy hearing the warm voices of others."
"Well, look at that. Finally, someone who appreciates my gift," he said, chuckling slightly. "So, you had a pretty bad childhood too, huh?"
She nodded. "Yes. After they created me from Wolverine's DNA, I was trained to be the best killer in the world at a facility associated with Weapon X from birth and every day they tortured me to hone my obedience and murderous instinct. Eventually, they made me kill most of the people that I cared about, including my mother."
Peter was stunned silent for a few seconds. "Yeah, that's, uh... that's pretty freakin' bad. I'm sorry to hear that."
"It is alright. I have found friends and escaped that life."
"Good... Wait, you said they cloned you from Logan's DNA. How long ago was this?"
"Really..." he said, raising an eyebrow. "Say, would you like to get some food, and we can keep talking, uh... sorry, I don't know your name, and I've been rambling on to you. I'm Peter Benjamin Parker, but you already know that." He extended his right hand.
She smiled lightly. "My name is X-" she hesitated. "That is... my name is Laura Kinney. And yes, I would like to go have something to eat."
"Good," said Peter. "This place we're standing on makes a mean slice of pepperoni. By the way, you should smile more often. It makes you look really pretty."
She was taken aback, blushing, a feeling she did not recognize. "Thank you," was all she could think to say. "I will try to smile more often, then."
"It's just the truth," he said. Suddenly, Peter's Spider-Sense tingled and the sound of glass shattering reached their ears. Two men carrying a guns and sacks of money burst out of the window of the pizzeria. "Oh, great," he mumbled. "Wanna come along?"
"Okay," she said and the two of them leapt off the roof.
They landed right in front of the crook. "Really, guys?" said Spider-Man, webbing the gun out of one of their hands. "There's a bank across the street and a bodega owned by a ninety year old half-blind man two blocks down and you choose to rob Famous Famiglia's? Really? Have you tasted the pepperoni? It's like meaty heaven!"
"Okay, okay, I give up! I'll come quietly, just stop talking!" the guy yelled, dropping the sack of cash. "Geez, you're crazy. Daredevil doesn't talk this much!"
"Yeah, well DD's kind of depressing that way," said Peter, webbing the guy up. "Laura, how're you doing over- Hey, Laura, what the hell are you doing!" She'd already disarmed and incapacitated the other two robbers, their guns in pieces on the ground. She held her claws in the air, clearly ready to murder them in any number of ways. "Stop it, Laura!"
"These men are criminals. Shouldn't they die?"
"No! It's not like they did anything incredibly terrible. They robbed a pizza store, they didn't choke a baby to death! But that's not the point. We shouldn't kill them."
"Because we have to be better than they are, Laura. That's why we're the good guys. You may be the best there is at what you do, but what you do isn't very nice." After peering at him for a moment, impressed by his words, she replaced her claws, opting instead to knock the men out. Peter breathed a sigh of relief.
"Uh... not to interrupt or anything, but... are you gonna take us in, or something, dude?" asked the webbed criminal.
"Shaddup. Cops are on their way. Which means," he said, webbing the other two robbers, running to Laura, and scooping her up in one arm, "That we should get out of here." He thwipped away on a webline as she held on tightly to his strong, muscular body.
As they swung through the air, she muttered, "You have taught me a lot today."
"Eh, not that much. Just a corny catchphrase."
They landed a short while later and he gently set her down. "So, uh..." "Okay, choose your words carefully," he thought to himself. "Oh, who are you kidding, Parker? You're going to say something stupid and she's going to snikt you in your bub! And I do so love my bub..." But in an instant, she had moved over to him, lifted his mask over his mouth and nose and had placed her lips near his. "Wha... what are you doing?" he whispered.
She stopped, blushing again. "Do you... want me to kiss you?" she asked, someone uncertain.
"Well- I- that is- habu-"
"I would like to kiss you. May I?"
He gulped. "Uh, uh... sure, if you really want to..." "Holy crap, is this really happening? Is she really-"
Her mouth closed upon his, shocking his brain into a stupor and sending what felt like a thousand volts of pleasure from her lips, through her spine, down to her toes and back again, not unlike what Mary Jane had felt all those years ago. They parted. "Wow..." she breathed, her face flushed from what she'd just experienced.
"That was... that was really nice," he muttered. His usually finely functioning mouth seemed unable to spit any words worthy of its reputation. "Good... kissing."
"I was not merely trained in assassination at the Facility," she explained. I was also trained in infiltration, which meant the use of certain... skills. Your kiss was very enjoyable."
"Thanks..." he mumbled "Say, can we do that again, with the whole lips and stuff, 'cause I didn't have my head in the game, and you did so well, so I just-" She silenced him with her lips. Several seconds passed before they parted. "Yeah, yeah, I definitely did better that time, I think, but y'know, I think it'd be even better if we got to my place, or something, don't you think?"
"Good..." Thankful that his Spider-Sense would guide him automatically, he almost absentmindedly picked her up in one arm and began swinging through the air. She clutched him more tightly this time, leaning her head against his shoulder, something Peter did not miss. She smiled... why was smiling so easy around this man? Was it because he, too, knew the pain of immense suffering? Was it because despite all that he made jokes and had pizza and lived life to the fullest he could? Or was it simply because he was kind to her the way few had ever been kind to her before. Those questions would come later. For now, she just wanted to be with him as long as he would have her.
They arrived at his place, where he quickly changed into his civvies. "Okay, so... where were we?"
"Right here," she said, placing her hands on his jaw. "May I... go further?"
"You can do whatever you like, Laura."
"Good." She kissed him again, absorbing that same electric feeling, and decided to step it up by intruding upon his mouth with her tongue. He responded with his own, which elicited a soft moan. A new range of emotions opened up, sensations that she could never have imagined before. She hungered for more of those emotions, needed to satisfy her thirst for that knowledge.
Swiftly, she reached for his hands, which had been stunned still, and moved them to her breasts, which caused Peter to let out an involuntary "Mmff!" in surprise. He was liking this new girlfriend - she was his girlfriend, right? - of his. He unzipped her top with one hand and began exploring her body with the other. He took hold of her soft, perky breasts, moving onto her nipples, tweaking the erect, pink tips just enough as to make her moan again, this time louder. Her hands latched onto his shirt as she attempted to concentrate on unbuttoning it while he made her crazy with the sensations in her mouth. He began guiding her to his bed, where she pushed him onto it and then literally pounced on him, a wild, excited look on her face that she hardly recognized. Deciding the buttons were a waste of time, she snikt'd her claws out, tore the shirt off, sheathed her claws, and began running her mouth and hands all over his chest.
He gasped as she worked her way around him. How did she know where exactly to touch that would feel that good? She guessed his thoughts and answered, "I told you, didn't I? I was trained in many 'skills.' This is one of them. I know thirty-two ways to make a man orgasm, each at varying speeds."
His eyes went wide at the implication. His manhood began stiffening. "Well, gee. I only know just the one way to make a girl, uh, finish."
"Show me," she said, removing her pants and discarding them in the corner.
"Oh God, I'm gonna wake up in a hospital and this will all turn out to be some kind of wonderful yet terrible drug-induced dream, aren't I? What does that say about me, anyway? I'm dreaming about a sexy clone of Wolverine? Geez, my subconscious is already wacked out as it is, I don't need stupid sexy mutants to figure out. Freud would have a field day, that Austrian putz. He'd- Wait, what the hell am I doing? Focus! She's gonna use one of her thirty-two techniques, and you've only got one, so make it count!" He reached over and pulled down her panties, tossing them behind him. She'd shaved there, which pleasantly surprised Peter; considering she had Logan's DNA, he expected her to be very hairy. Gently, he touched his hands to her body, experiencing the same sensation as when he wall-crawled. He could feel the reactions under her flesh, in her nerves... exactly where would trigger a burst of pleasure. And so, using his sensitive fingers and mouth, he sought her pleasure points and sucked and pressed, causing her to gasp and cry in ecstasy.
"Oh God... Peter...!" she moaned. His name on her lips drove him wild. "Don't stop, whatever you do!" He'd noticed it before. Her speech was slipping from the pleasure... he was breaking down the walls that had been erected from her horrible childhood through his actions on her body.
He smiled. "Time for the coup de grace," he uttered under his breath. Though he and Mary Jane had never reached the final point, they had gone quite the distance. When he'd done this to Mary Jane, she had always loved it, had always literally begged him to do it each time after the first.
He reached his hand to her most, warm entrance and found her clitoris. He brought a single finger to it, felt the wall-crawling tingle, and reached deep into his Spider-Sense... causing an lengthy series of quick vibrations. Her eyes shot open, a tremendous, elated grin etched itself into her features, and she began screaming in pure pleasure. "Please, Peter, please!" she begged, writhing uncontrollably. "Help me, please, I want you inside me!"
"Just as planned," he thought, positioning himself in the proper place. She decided what route she'd take; her hands shot out and moved rapidly, all over his body, poking and prodding just the right areas. Peter could hardly stifle himself as she worked her magic. He wanted her. He wanted to make her orgasm with the force of a hurricane. He wanted, for lack of a better term to fuck her into submission. Again, somehow guessing his thoughts, she parted her legs, waiting for him. He peered into those large, emerald eyes, eyes that pleaded for sweet release, and smiled. He was nothing if not a gentleman.
Somewhere from the corner of his rational mind, a thought hit him. "Wait. I don't have a condom."
"It's fine, I have something, let's go!" she urged him.
"Really? Are you sure you-"
"Shut up, just do it!"
Shrugging, he took hold of her and thrust as hard as he could without damaging her too much and felt her hymen give way. She gave no reaction. A wave of guilt washed over him. "Are you okay?" he asked, worried.
"It's nothing compared to the pain of having two claws come out of your hand and one out of your foot over and over. Stop thinking. Start doing."
He nodded, thrusting against her even more. She began shrieking in pleasure, matching his rhythm as it grew more rapid. Never before in her entire life had she experienced anything resembling this sort of emotion. Peter's id began to spring forth. "Go ahead. Tell me you hate me. Tell me I'm crazy now," he egged her on, cocky as hell.
"You're c-crazy! I - augh, God! - I hate you!"
"Oh yeah?" he said, and thrust especially hard, grasping her succulent breasts at the same time. "How about now? Still crazy? Still hate me?!"
"Oh my Goooood!" she moaned. "N-no! No, you're - ah! - you're amazing, and spectacular, and wonderful, and - Fuck, I'm going to... I can't take it!"
"Boy, she's really lost it," thought Peter, noting the decline in her speech refinement. "And I am totally okay with that." "Then do it. I certainly won't stop you."
She wrapped her arms around him, clinging to him like a warm, human barnacle. Each made one final thrust against each other and the dam burst "Peteeeeerr!" she screeched at the top of her lungs. As she said his name, it degenerated into a serious of unintelligible babble.
Her inner walls clamped perfectly around Peter's manhood like a warm, fleshy vise. "Laura... Oh, Laura!" he yelled, shooting pulse after pulse of his seed into her. She kept on coming, like her entire nervous system had caught on fire with pleasure. Her throat grew throaty as she exhausted it, her scream now fluctuating in pitch and volume.
She collapsed in his arms for a moment, revitalized herself with one last wave of the orgasm, and finally went limp, panting heavily. As she attempted to push herself off of him, she found herself too weakened from the sex and her arms gave way. Peter grinned at his conquest and gently set her down on the bed next to him, taking care to cover her with a blanket and give her his pillow. His expression turned to a gentle one as he pulled her sweaty raven locks from her gorgeous face. She cooed lightly at his touch.
One eye opened to see him. "That was... very pleasurable," she said, her speech patterns returned to normal. "Thank you very much."
"Seriously, you don't need to thank me," he said softly. "I didn't do most of the work. In fact, I should be the one to thank you."
She smiled, making his heart bloom. "Either way... I liked it very much."
"Maybe we could do it again sometime."
"Perhaps. I think I would enjoy that."
"Yeah... me too," he said, laying himself down next to her, pulling the blanket over himself as well. "Oh, and one more thing... could you not tell Logan about this yet? I mean, you know how he is."
"I understand. I will not tell him."
"Cool," he said, closing his eyes, pleased at the day. Suddenly, he heard a light shuffling of the sheets and felt her arms wrap around him, as if clinging for life.
He sighed, for once, in joy. "Not a bad day," he thought, slipping off to dream. "Not a bad day at all."
The morning arrived. Peter's eyelids opened and to his dismay, he found no beautiful girl resting next to him. He sighed, mentally checking off another failed relationship. Oh well. At least he'd had a one night stand, now. Scratch that milestone off!
But then, the scent of delicious breakfast reached his ears. Donning his underwear, he followed the scent of waffles covered in syrup and butter, of delicious scrambled eggs and toast, to the kitchen, where Laura stood, wearing an apron and holding the plates. That is, she was wearing an apron... and nothing more. She smiled sweetly as he walked in in his boxers. "Good morning," she said.
"Uh... morning. What's all this, then?"
"Yeah, I see, but-"
"Because I wanted to repay you for yesterday."
He chuckled. "Y'know, I wish more people would say, 'Hey, there's Spider-Man! He's a standup fellow and not a jerk like J. Jonah Jameson says! Let's go take him out for ice cream and steak!'" he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. She found herself, for the first time as far as she could remember, giggling at something. Somehow, in one night, he had given her such humanity... "Hey! I made you laugh! That- that is something, right there." She set the plate down in front of him. "So, where'd you learn to cook like this? Wait, don't tell me - special skills, right?"
"An expert assassin needs many skills. I am just thankful that I can use them for good. With great power comes great responsibility, correct?"
"Yeah, that's it," he said, grinning a toothy grin.
She picked up the fork, plunged it into the eggs, and guided it into his mouth. Peter couldn't believe his luck. "So, here I am being fed by this sweet, adorable girl who's basically naked in my apartment. God, are you messing with me here? Because that's a real jerk move if you are."
"How is it?" she asked innocently.
"Delicious," he replied through the mouthful. Suddenly, she heard her X-Force pager buzz in her pants across the room. Her expression grew to one of disappointment. Peter mirrored her. "So... you've gotta go, huh?"
"Yes..." she said, a tinge of sorrow in her voice.
"Well, now you now how to find me, right?" he said hopefully.
Her smile returned. "Yes. And I will be back so that we may do this again."
He nodded. "I'm counting on it."
And so, she dressed and left, a tiny skip in her step. It was truly miraculous, this meeting between the two who were so opposite. Laura Kinney, X-23, had been tortured both physically and mentally into a life of cruelty and servitude. But she had started on the road to healing... all because she met a kind, courageous, somewhat eccentric, very emotional man named Peter Parker.
After he finished eating his delicious breakfast, he brought the dishes to the sink. There, he found a note, written in very neat handwriting. He picked it up and read,
I knew I wouldn't have time to explain this, so I left this note. You asked what 'protection' I had last night. So that you will not worry, it is basically that each healing factor has a mental component. So long as I force myself to recognize a foreign entity as an intruder, my body will attack it. All I need to do is focus and my healing factor destroys your semen. I hope this is satisfactory.
Thank you for the wonderful night,
Peter raised an eyebrow. Sure, it was a little graphic, but it did lead him to a good train of thought. "Okay, so I have a beautiful girl that I can go all out on because I can't permanently hurt her, who doesn't need any sort of protection, and who cooks like some sort of god of food - like Thor crossed with Emeril. What did I do, and how do I stop myself from not doing it?"
Later, Laura arrived at Warren Worthington III's home, the unofficial meeting place of the X-Force. Logan sat in the dining room, his feet propped up on the table. "Hey, Laura. Didn't see ya yesterday. Take a day off?"
"Yes," she answered plainly.
"Good fer you. Sometimes, y'need a break from this insanity."
She sniffed the air around her. "You wearin' perfume, darlin'?"
"... Yes," she said, hoping not to arouse suspicion.
"Huh." The scent was masking something else. He sniffed the air again. "No way," he thought to himself. "Spider-Man? No freakin' way."
Laura sensed the change in his scent and hoped that he'd just dismiss it. Of course, she'd never been that lucky to begin with.
"Home sweet home," said Spider-Man, arriving in the alleyway behind his house, ready to climb to his window.
Suddenly, a figure growled from the shadows, "Hey, bub."
Peter jumped in surprise. "Oh God, it's you," he said impulsively.
"Yeah, it's me."
"What're you, uh, what're you doing here, Logan? Did I miss a New Avengers meeting? You know I'd never do that; I absolutely adore the punch Hawkeye makes, and-"
Snikt. "Shut up," grumbled Wolverine, his claws an inch from Peter's nose. "You hurt her? You get a taste of what I do best, and what I do best isn't very nice."
"G-gotcha," said Peter. Wolverine nodded and turned. Peter couldn't resist. "You make a pretty girl, Logan!" he called, his voice full of sass.
Logan turned to eviscerate Peter, but he had already pulled a fast fade. "Punk. I oughta maim 'im." He sighed. "But really... Laura could've chosen worse. A lot worse... Good for her."