Jean Grey

A/N: Just a reminder, new chapter here officially means new chapter over on the P atreon now, where my patrons are currently voting on the future direction of this story!

-x-X-x-

Getting ahold of Jean isn't particularly difficult. She'd made sure he had her number before they'd parted ways after the party, all of the women did. Still, Peter is a little surprised by how eager she sounds when he calls her for a meetup. Maybe he shouldn't be? Either way, they quickly make plans to get together at a nearby coffee shop.

She's already waiting for him there when he arrives, much to his surprise. Her… and his favorite order. As they sit down, Peter's raised eyebrow, and perhaps his thoughts as well, cause Jean to flush and shrug helplessly.

"Aha, s-sorry. I uh… flew over as fast as I could."

Right, he remembered that she said she was telekinetic. Hm, but he also remembered her saying something else, as well.

"Didn't you tell me that you can only sort of read my thoughts? How did you know my favorite coffee order?"

Jean's blush deepens, and she fiddles with her own cup for a second before shrugging again, just as helpless as before.

"I bribed the barista at the counter to tell me so I could get it in advance for you."

For a moment, Peter just sits there and processes that. In the end, he can't help but let out a slight chuckle, while Jean grins hesitantly. It's just… so mundane. He can't believe he didn't immediately think of that, but then to be fair, when your life got as weird as his, you sort of defaulted to the odder options more often than not, didn't you?

Taking a sip, Peter flashes Jean an appreciative smile.

"Thank you. It means a lot."

The cute young red head immediately nods, beaming happily as she just… sits there quietly, basking in his presence. It's a little weird, but Peter doesn't want to judge. Still, there was a reason he'd been curious about seeing her again. Multiple reasons, but one that he could ask about right now, anyways.

"Can you explain more about what you see when you try to read my mind? You said something about… a beacon or something? You called me beautiful?"

He was still a little weirded out by that, but he does his best to keep his tone as lacking in judgment as possible. He's much more curious than freaked after all. Unfortunately, it seems like he doesn't fully manage to keep his slight discomfort hidden from Jean, because the telepath flinches a bit before looking down into her cup of coffee.

"Aha, y-yeah. Um… your mind is very bright, Peter. It shines and… and radiates with a warmth that pulls me in. I'm sure that any telepath would tell you the same, I'm nobody special. Still… it makes it really, really nice to be in your presence."

She pauses for a moment, and then continues.

"At the same time, it makes it hard to read you. I get some hints here and there, but without pushing much harder with my abilities, I don't really see much of what you're thinking. Just flickering glimpses, if that makes sense."

Peter nods, processing all this. He feels like he understands well enough what she means. Though at the same time…

"If I gave you permission to do a deeper dive, would that be something you would want, Jean? Under the right circumstances, I'd be willing to let you push your telepathy to its limits so you can figure out what's going on under the hood, so to speak."

It wasn't like he was afraid, or anything. He'd long since decided he wasn't going to continue to question himself about every decision he made. This was part of that. Peter was confident enough in his sense of self that he wasn't afraid to have a telepath, especially one who he was as close to as Jean, peering into his mind. Whatever she found… well, he was curious about it. Why was he different? What made him special THIS time?

Jean has gone absolutely still at his question, her gorgeous verdant green eyes wide as she stares at him in total shock. Peter raises an eyebrow and waits quietly for her to recover. When she finally does, she looks… almost anxious, as if she's afraid he's going to take it back at any moment.

"Y-Yes! Yes, I would like that very much. But, um… not here, not in the open. We would need to go somewhere private, for that sort of thing…"

Peter nods. That makes plenty of sense to him. But before he can suggest they go to some such private space, Jean overrides him.

"W-Wait. We, um… there was something I wanted to do here, first. Before we went anywhere else. Something I wanted to do… f-for you."

Peter blushes because a moment later, he feels her intentions as she uses her telekinesis to begin massaging and rubbing his cock through his pants. Peter clamps his lips shut to avoid letting a groan leave his mouth, while Jean blushes but smiles hesitantly, giving him his first ever 'mind-job'. Feeling self-conscious, she looks around for a moment before continuing, but also looks to him.

"T-This is okay, right? If not, I can s-stop…"

"This… this is fine, Jean."

And really, it was. Actually, it was more than okay, more than just fine. It was fucking hot, was what it was. Jean blushes but nods and keeps it up. Her telekinesis is finely controlled in Peter's humble opinion, and in no time at all, his cock is straining against the confines of his pants. Perhaps sensing this, or just wanting to escalate things, Jean uses her powers to unbuckle his belt and unbutton and unzip his pants under the table in the back corner of the coffee shop.

His cock comes out, Peter can feel the air on his dick, as well as the invisible mental grasp that Jean has as she continues to stroke him off. It makes it hard to hold a conversation, with her focusing on pleasuring him with just her mind, and him being pleasured, so they fall quiet, the two of them, pretending to enjoy their coffee in companionable silence while in reality, down in the shadows beneath the table, Jean is giving him a truly spectacular mind-job.

In no time at all, Peter can feel himself getting close. But if he just cums… he's liable to stain not just the floor under the table, but also Jean's legs and feet as well. He reaches for the napkins, only to blink as Jean… suddenly drops beneath the table. Either this was one of those snippets she picked up from his shining beacon of a mind, or she just felt like it was about time.

Suddenly, there's a pair of very real lips latched onto his cockhead. Her physical hands never join in on the fun though. Instead, Jean bobs up and down the first few inches of his throbbing member, while still continuing to use her telekinesis to massage his throbbing, pulsating shaft and even knead his balls. Needless to say, under such an onslaught, Peter can't last much longer.

With a groan, the young man cums, clutching at the edge of the table as Jean swallows his seed down below. Holding just the head of his cock in her mouth while she wrings the rest of his dick with her mind, Jean quite literally milks him, drinking down his cream without hesitation and without fail. Peter can't help but be a little impressed. Did it really taste that good, or was she just that interested in him?

Either way, the young mutant woman is soon done, and comes up from under the table a second later, sitting down in her chair and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she looks at him with a twinkle in her bright green eyes. Peter chuckles and shakes his head.

"You're quite the woman, Jean Grey."

Blushing at the praise, Jean smiles softly before shrugging again.

"W-Well, I do get to cheat a little bit. Even if we were in a public place this like, no one was going to pay us any mind. I made sure of it. Still… it's a bit thrilling all the same, isn't it?"

Nodding his agreement, Peter jolts as he feels Jean begin to tuck his cock back into his boxers and fix up his pants with her mind. Giving her another nod, this one of appreciation, he looks around the coffee shop, and sure enough, no one is paying them the slightest mind, or even trying to pretend that they aren't paying them any attention. He and Jean's little misadventure has gone COMPLETELY under the radar.

"Well, thanks for the experience. You didn't have to do that for me, you know. I'm not really as special as you think I am…"

Sure, he was more than your average human, being a metahuman, but there were tons of metahumans. Tons of mutants too. He was sure Jean knew much more interesting people than him, given who she was. Which is why he's a little surprised when the red head's green eyes flash and she suddenly leans forward to grab one of his hands and hold it tightly.

"Don't sell yourself short, Peter. I think you're EXACTLY as special as I think you are."

-x-X-x-

Things weren't as bad as they could have been. Obviously, upon returning from off-planet (and from the dead, possibly?) Natasha had gone to ground, and then started looking for answers to her most pressing questions. Like for one, had they done it? Had they won?

The answer, it seemed, was an undeniable Yes. They'd managed to collect the Stones and undo the Snap, even in defiance of an Alternate Timeline Thanos who had shown up with his forces to try and stop them, the bastard. Thanos was beaten, and the good guys won. The world was set back to rights… no, more than that, the whole fucking universe was set back to rights.

Or so Natasha assumed, it wasn't like she was going to hear anything about the intergalactic community by sneaking around reading newspaper headlines and chatting with some random pedestrians on the street. Still, she'd found out enough. They'd won.

That did not mean everything was back to normal, or fixed, and she felt a little foolish for not realizing it wouldn't be. The world had struggled for five long years to recover from the loss of half its population. Just bringing all the people who got dusted back at once didn't FIX things… in fact, it just made a ton of new problems, from the sound of it.

Still, it wasn't all bad. Apparently, the number of heroes, of people with powers stepping up to do the right thing, had sky rocketed in the time since Thanos' defeat. Some of them, Natasha had been aware of from her time as a SHIELD Agent, and then her time as the woman in charge of protecting what was left of the world after the Snap. But some she'd never even heard of before.

And then there were the familiar faces. As far as she could tell, she was the only major casualty from the original Avengers. Clint had survived Vormir, and if they'd managed to bring everyone back, he must have retrieved the Soul Stone, via her sacrifice. But then… how was she back? WHY was she back?

It didn't make sense, and Natasha needed answers more than anything else. But if she wanted to keep looking for answers, she also needed resources. It was tempting to get in contact with Clint right away, or maybe even her sister. Yelena… Natasha didn't know where Yelena was or what she was doing, but she feared the other woman thought her dead, and that just wouldn't do.

However, before she could get in touch with either of those people, she needed a home base. And answers, can't forget those. Which was how Natasha found herself standing outside of Stark Tower, about to reveal her miraculous recovery from certain death to Toni, in the hopes that it would get her somewhere faster.

Whatever had brought her back… it had to be something really special, right? So, if anyone would have an idea of what was happening, it would be Toni, she was sure. Steeling herself, the gorgeous assassin presses her lips together in a thin line… and walks on in.

Security, oddly enough, doesn't seem to react to her at all, except to wave her on through. For a moment, she almost stops… but a lifetime of bullshitting her way through situations just like this one sees Natasha striding forward with all the feigned self-importance and arrogance in the world. It was possible, likely even, that Toni had already noticed her presence.

Even knowing this, she still jolts when she steps onto the elevator and a female voice calls out while it begins moving up the tower.

"Good day, Ms. Romanoff. Welcome back to the land of the living. The Creator and I are VERY interested in the means behind your miraculous recovery."

Smiling faintly, Natasha glances at the ceiling.

"Thanks, Friday. And… so am I. It's why I'm here."

-x-X-x-

Peter just chuckles at Jean's words, shaking his head, still not quite believing them. He was… he was precisely as special as he needed to be, in order to get the job done. Whether that job was foiling a bank robbery or saving the world. Though, admittedly, he didn't feel like he would be saving the world again any time soon. There was a reason that he was the Friendly NEIGHBORHOOD Spider-Man after all…

"Right… well, should we get going? Actually, where do we want to do this? Your place, or mine?"

Jean blinks at that, as if she hadn't considered that already.

"Um… you mean the Xavier Institute?"

Smiling, Peter nods.

"Or the Stark Tower, yeah. Either one should have enough privacy for our purposes, right?"

Jean grimaces as she considers that, leaving Peter to wonder if the Institute wasn't as private as he thought. It was where Jean lived though, right? So, she had to have her own room there? Meanwhile, he could commandeer any number of spaces at Stark Tower if he wanted to.

"I-I'm not sure… what do you think?"

Ah, of course. The choice was in his hands once more. Hm, Xavier Institute, or Stark Tower? If Jean was doing a deep dive of his mind, he wanted her to be where she'd be most comfortable, but maybe Stark Tower would be better, since it would be where HE'D be most comfortable?

The ball was in his court. All that was left was to choose.

-x-X-x-

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