Wei Too Late (Spider-Man)

Wei too Late

Synopsis: Fucking Secretaries, man. Bitches, all of em. And you know what they say about bitches…
P.Parker/M. Wei (His girlfriend/secretary or some shit. Not enough screentime, yo.), P.Parker/A.M.Marconi (fuckin shortstacks my nigga), P.Parker/MILFJ (implied, also them fucking thighs did you see that shit), P.Parker/Sexy.ass.shorthaired.MJ (implied, also sexiest appearance of MJ ever, gotdang)
SaltyMJ/Herself

And C.Danvers/U.ndyked. What’s good, yo.

x-x-

Whoever claimed that work was boring never worked for Tony Stark. Mary Jane Watson had her work cut out for her.

It was the end of another day when the redhead called it a day. Tired but satisfied with her efforts, she walked home. At the back of her mind lay memories of worry, but not for herself. For a man named Peter Parker. Quickly she shook her head, scoffing at the thought of worrying about him anymore. They were through, she thought, and she was moving on with her life. If Peter wanted to risk his he'd do it on his own. She wasn’t about to go grey because of him, or Spider-man. Not when Iron man had his act together.

It was almost if that thought triggered her phone to chime. Curiously she opened and found she had a new text. And then another, and another, and another. All from the same, unrecognized number, all with the same subject.

UNKNOWN: I think you're going to want to see this :* ;)

Mary Jane could have said very few things about Peter Parker, because she wanted to think of him as little as possible, but he was very smart. He had revolutionized mobile communications and internet capabilities in short order. The young man who she had heard had gotten stuffed in lockers as a teenager took the world by storm with a smile on his face and nothing but humility in his heart. It was too bad it took him so long to try. Years of risking his life, the man had the nine lives of a cat. MJ sometimes worried if he was on his last one.

Then she remembered how he lost his previous one. She summarily ended that line of thought, and refused to think about him telling her, ever distraught, how his life had been ruined... And how she walked out on him.

But he was Spider-Man, and he knew how to pick himself up. He’d done it before, without her, when she left before, and he had done it again, evidently. He understood, and she knew she had every right to distance herself. He was living a life she couldn’t suffer... Not anymore. And so MJ threw herself into work to forget. She was doing a great job… working for his former friend and mentor… in a pretty hypocritical way.

Such a great job that the thought of Peter Parker, his tender, strong hugs and the way he smelled or held her, made her frown, instead of hurt from her chest. She scowled and opened the text, her mood ruined.

Thanks, Oparker.

She was again reminded of Peter's brilliant mind by how fast the video loaded. Ever since Parker Industries came to shore, internet capabilities skyrocketed. It wasn’t uncommon to text with a several hundred megabyte file as an attachment, video or otherwise. And the service was free, and Peter Parker joined the names of the greats like Tesla and Gates and Jobs, to be remembered for all time. Unfortunately, that meant MJ wouldn’t be forgetting him anytime soon.

She downloaded the video and rolled her eyes at how fast it went. It was a huge file, but the blue bar on her screen sped across. It was definitely hi-def by the look of it, crisp and clean. It looked like the inside of an office. MJ wondered if it was some 4k vine post, or something.

She read the message, which said, quite innocuously, "Putting work in" and frowned. She had no clue what to expect.

Then she played the video. By now she was at her apartment. For a second she didn’t know what she was seeing. The image just didn’t click. There was a table and a high rise view, a look of a city and... MJ immediately recognized it as Tokyo.  The view was that of an office and the table... There was a man at the table. It took her a moment to recognize him.

Her eyebrows rose. He was definitely handsome, his five o’clock shadow expertly groomed and defining well his chiseled jawline. Bright hazel green eyes and chestnut hair and a world weary look that betrayed his youthful appearance. MJ only saw his eyes because he jumped and opened then wide, and then crushed a phone with his bare hand, simply by tapping it. The plastic caved in like a popped bubble.

MJ exhaled. Yep, that was Peter. No, he wasn’t cute... But she was glad he was taking care of himself. God, he really filled out that shirt. Had he been hitting the gym?

MJ shook her head just as he spoke. "Oh man, there's another one..." he groaned.

A muffled voice.

"I do have better control... Usually," he replied, gesticulating as he did in his own, special way. MJ remembered thinking it was cute. It wasn’t now, certainly not.

Another muffled reply. She couldn’t tell where it was coming from. The camera, maybe a hidden one, was situated from across the room. It caught just the lip of his table and him sitting behind it. He didn’t look like the Peter she knew, he was far too groomed and professional in appearance for that. Peter Parker was boyish. This was a man whose looks screamed he had his life in one hand and his goals firm in his other fist. It made her stare.

"I’m just not used to- I’m trying to work!" he said, and once again Mj knew it was him. She found her lip curling into a small, unwanted smile. He smacked the table gingerly, likely a habit that resulted from having godlike strength and the ability to cause fissures in the ground.

Another muffled reply. "...no, don’t, don’t sto- fuhuhuhuhdge," he trailed off, and MJ rose her brow. What was going on here?

Then she heard the voice clearly. "I wasn’t planning to, actually," a voice, a woman's voice, said. It sounded professional and regal at once, like that of a business woman. Then, a wet sound, not like a kiss, but rather a smack. MJ furrowed her brow.

"You’ve been working too hard," the woman said, and Peter was stone faced and determined. She only ever saw that look when he was serious, which wasn’t often in the long run, and combined with the growing beard it made him look like a completely different man.

"I am simply trying to get you to relax." another sound, this time wetter and louder. Peter jumped. "You dont have any problem with that, right? I can always stop if you want."

Peter blinked rapidly and replied as though someone woke him up from a daydream. "...No uh, stay as- as you are."

The woman didn’t sound amused or anything of the sort. She said, "Good, because I wasn’t going to stop even if you asked me," and then there was another long, drawn out sound. It was certainly wet, and certainly loud, and yet it took MJ a few seconds to parse it. Because that noise, and Peter? No, it couldn’t be. Not with his expression of determination as he went back to work, writing something on a piece of paper in a way that reminded her of how he used to grade children's homework. Not Peter, not like that.

The file ended with a sound MJ could have sworn was sucking. And the… Licking. And attentive moaning.

But no, not Peter.

It couldn’t be.

X-x-

The next file MJ didn’t watch until a day later. As secretary to Tony Stark, she took a lot of calls, but her break time was her own. It took a long time for her to quash the unwanted memories of Peter but she had done it, and felt better for it. She was a grown woman and had her own life, without him, and was satisfied.

The phone taunted her with its chime. A new text. Vexingly, another video, blanketed in black. MJ, as a person with quite the experience on the internet, rolled her eyes. God in heaven, she thought, if this is another jump scare video...

But it wasn’t. It was by the same number, only this time it had a name. The technology of her phone, made by Parker Industries no less, immediately allocated the information to the other texts.
Now they all read: Min Wei: I think you're going to want to see this :* ;)

Mj rolled her eyes. If she thought that MJ wanted to see her ex like so many bird brained camwhores on the...web, and MJ scowled at that, did, this Min Wei had another thing coming.

Still, Mj opened the second text that had been sent from before. Best to just get it out of the way, she figured, all the while ignoring the fact that she could delete them.

The newer video downloaded lightning quick. Like Spider-Man in a fight, she thought briefly, and then rolled her eyes. Spider-Man was quick, but he was a bruiser too, but not many people knew that. MJ did, obviously, and her ass had the phantom marks to prove it...

Now MJ had a reason to scowl. She readjusted her seat. Suddenly her butt hurt. Ouch.

The video played. This time it was on Peter's desk. Never one for a tie, Peter Parker was dressed casually in a button up dress shirt. It clung tightly to his physique, which MJ wondered if it had ever been that pronounced. Peter was always fit and muscular, fighting and webswinging and doing acrobatics that would make a cirq du solei acrobat green with envy ensured that. But the way his shirt just clung to him... He had to be hitting the gym. It was no longer the body of a gymnast, full of visibly powerful muscle, MJ realized as the seconds stretched on, with no visible change – Peter was still writing. This was... Powerful muscle, plain and simple. It was as if he had gained thirty extra pounds, all of it pure muscle.

She caught herself and rolled her eyes.

The sudden movement made her look back. There was a thud and his cup of... Oh, for the love of- his cup of apple juice jostled. It almost spilled, but Peter's preternatural reflexes caught it in short order. Suddenly he looked flushed.

Without looking away from his papers, he had stopped the cup while he was still writing, he asked, "You okay?" to, MJ could only presume, someone who was out of view. Not for the first time she wondered why the camera was on him.

Then she realized that he was trending on twitter and women around the world were throwing their hashtags at them, and it wasn’t uncommon for a video centered on the Queen’s born man to be extremely popular.
#parkerindustries? #more like #parkerjustinme, were some of the most popular ones.

"I... I hit my head," came the voice of Min Wei, MJ guessed. She smirked at that. It was good for her.

Peter, in his characteristic heartfelt concern... Snorted. Mj was surprised. "I warned you. That's what eagerness gets you."

"I do not believe you were complaining, Sir."

"Well... Believe that I’m having a very good day," he said, and what had once been a boyish smile was now a roguish
grin with his new looks.

"I see that. I'll make sure to remember this," the voice said ominously, and Peter jumped with a smile on his face.

"And sir?"

"Yes Ms. Wei?" Peter returned, making MJ smile at her deduction.

"Do eat more fruit.”

"...Noted, Ms. Wei," he replied somewhat awkwardly.

“I don’t mind, but it is good for you, even if you can lift-"

"THANK YOU, Ms. Wei, I appreciate it," he cut her off. Then there was the long, drawn out slurping noise, and. Then a kiss, and Peter shuddered. The video ended.

Mj blinked at her screen. What the fuck?

x-x-

MJ couldn’t suspend her disbelief and incredulity for long. It was only days later when she opened the third file included with the text with a scowl on her face. A scowl because she was looking, again, because the video had been sent to her, and because she couldn’t believe that it was Peter…. Peter! It just didn’t make sense, and it shouldn’t have. Peter wouldn’t have done those things. There had to be an explanation, and in her stubborn mind at the moment, the redhead thought that she’d find the answer by watching another video. Yes, perhaps this video will give the answer.

And it did. The answer to how Min Wei looked, at least.

MJ wasn’t gay, or bi, but even she had to admit that the woman, who she astutely and without bias assumed was Min Wei based on one, her appearance (the fact that she was Asian and had a name like that was simply an educated observation), and two, because she was in the same office, which she assumed belonged to Peter.  Her features were soft and dainty, her nose small and almost button like, and her eyes cool, her lips a soft pink and her hair done up in a fairly stereotypical oriental bun, but she made it work. For a moment MJ forgot about how annoyed she was with the woman, if this was her, and wondered how she got her hair so damn shiny.

Then she noticed that Min Wei was sitting too high to be in a chair. Then she noticed that she was not, point of fact, sitting in a chair, as she typed away on a holographic keyboard with precision and poise. She was sitting on someone. Someone’s lap. Peter’s lap.

MJ’s eye twitched.

If Min Wei saw anything wrong with it, she didn’t show it. She typed away dedicatedly, even as she readjusted herself in Peter’s lap, the man who, up until now, MJ had only seen to be fairly stoic and controlled. His face was redder that she had seen it before, and his beard was coming in, signifying this as a later video.

“Do you have to do this now?” He asked. She didn’t even turn to acknowledge him.

“Yes,” Min Wei replied, her small mouth barely opening as she spoke. She stopped, considered something, and her eye squinted, and she resumed typing. “Because if I don’t, it’ll be harder later on.”

“It’s pretty hard now,” Peter replied, stressing with annoyance.

“I know,” she said back with a small smile. “I forgive you.”

“Wonder of wonders, thank you so much.”

Min Wei bit her lip and turned slightly. It seemed as if it was perfectly positioned to show only her as she turned to look at Peter, who was now blocked form view. The contours of her lips were compressed by her teeth, and she made a noise as she bit them. “It’s difficult, I know, but…” she said, this time with more emotion in her voice.

“If I don’t do it now I won’t ever be able to.”

“Min, I told you, it’s fine, I’m-“

“Not satisfied.” She finished, and turned back. “You have needs that need tending to, and as your secretary it’s my job to see to those needs.”

“You don’t need to-“

“It’s either this or fire me, Mr. Parker,” she said in an all business voice. Peter stopped. “What shall it be?”

“…That is a really, really loaded bomb of a question, and-“

“Then you have something in common, all the way up to the letter ‘B’,” she replied, smirking slightly. “If you will not fire me, I intend to assume my duties.”

“I’m not going to fire you, Min. Not for this!” Peter said, genuinely and incredulously. “I’m just- I don’t deserve this!”

“You do,” she replied instantly. “And much more. I intend to see that you get it. And… I rather like this… working under you.”

MJ swallowed at that. There was no way she could misconstrue that.

Peter clenched his jaw. “Min?” he asked.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take a break and turn around.”

Min Wei stopped typing and looking up, and smiled slightly. MJ could clearly see her hips moving in a way that left no doubt to what was happening as she sat on Peter’s lap. Then she turned around and faced him. She spared one last
look at the camera before it went black.

Mary Jane bit her nail in frustration.

x-x-

The nerve, the unmitigated- who did she think she was? Did she think she was getting underneath Mary Jane’s skin, by doing that? Was it some sort of game? Was she trying to make her jealous? Because MJ wasn’t jealous. She had moved on, was the successful employee to Tony Stark.

Who she started working for… after leaving Peter, alone, his life in shambles… after he had just come back from the dead. Because she couldn’t deal with Spider-Man, anymore.

She was working for Tony Stark. Tony fucking Stark.

Min Wei was a bitch.

MJ’s thoughts took a sharp turn. That’s what it was. She was obviously some petty… woman, who thought, “Hey, my boss’s ex-girlfriend works for a rival company. Let’s send her a video of me giving him a fucking lapdance!”
And not only a lapdance. MJ knew, because she watched another video.

There was only two left, now.

She brought out a bottle of expensive wine and poured herself a glass. It was so expensive that, when they were still together, could have paid for Peter’s one bedroom apartment for a year and a half. Not that MJ had a problem with being borderline destitute, of course she didn’t, but it was the principle of the matter. Now she had enough expendable income to afford something so egregious, and she got it as a gift, and now Peter was using that God-given brain of his for his own benefit.

Now they weren’t together. Now, when everything seemed to be going so well, they were apart.

The depressing thoughts just spiraled further and further. MJ was a super model, a club owner, and on the whole a pretty smart and well-rounded gal. She could roll with the latest catastrophe like the best of them, because she had seen so many. With Peter. Spider-Man was, for once, not the pariah of New York, and as a matter of fact was marginally celebrated, which was better than nothing.  He had a team of spider-people, was a leader, and Peter had his own company. Things were going well for them.

Just not them, them. Because they weren’t together.

Because MJ couldn’t deal with it anymore.

…

The fucking video had Min Wei underneath a table. There was no question about what she was doing. Absolutely none, not with that fat slab of meat stuffed into her mouth. MJ was disgusted, disgusted, pissed off, and… impressed. She hadn’t managed that. Damn.

There was far too much for her to get into her mouth all the way, but she was certainly trying. There was no doubting it was Peter because of one, the size, and two, the beauty mark right at the base and the way the vein-
Anyway. MJ swished her glass as she sat on her couch, staring at the wall. She took a sip that ended up longer than she expected. The cup was nearly drained.

The camera was facing Min Wei, obviously, and her black hair spilled over one side of her face in a sloppy bang, just as sloppy streams of saliva pooled out of her mouth. Her cheek was bulging and it was her who was red faced now, and she popped off slowly, audibly, and immediately descended to kiss that which had just left her mouth, like it was the love of her life. Spit, precum and all, she kissed and lapped, and then went down the side with her tongue like she was putting on a show, and had the nerve to smile up at the camera.

The video changed, not a hiccup, but an edit, and now her movements were more feverish. There was movement, definitely, and Mei wasn’t in control. There was a hand on her head and she was taking it as far as she could, the wet, gagging noises of glurk, glurk, glurk! Sounding more and more pronounced as it pummeled the back of her throat. Her eyes streamed with tears and every time it popped out, she was smiling, and then impaling her mouth again. Then it went deep, and the large, veiny hand came into view as she was pushed down farther than before, but still not all the way, and her eyes widened.

White, viscous fluid shot out of her nose. MJ scoffed. Serves the bitch right.

The rest went on her face. Honestly, MJ was tired of watching it. It was all hashtag NBD at that point, and the redhead was flippant. Flippant, as she watched, her eyes glued to the screen while Min Wei’s face was painted in ropes, and then caked with what was definitely not frosting, and then her mouth coated with it as it never seemed to end. She clamped her lips down and hummed appreciatively and took it to one cheek, but that filled up, and then another, and it looked like she had her mouth stuffed because she did.

She swallowed once, and then five times in small, teasing swallows, looking far too dignified for someone whose face looked like they’d been at a fight in a sperm bank, and she smiled up at the camera. Her tongue was absolutely opaque but her teeth were sparkling clean, and she licked them, her lips, and the head that had just been somewhere past her tonsils.

“Was that… hah… satisfactory, Mr. Parker?” She asked, biting her lip.

A hand ran through her hair. The video went black.

MJ, scoffing, left her phone on the couch and scoffed at the memory. She polished off a second glass and went to bed.

Then she came back and snatched the phone up. She didn’t go to bed.

x-x

The next video… God, MJ had seen some things. She had been kidnapped by a sick fan of hers, once, had seen an alien monster step out from the shadow to terrify her, and had been through dozens of apocalypse scenarios. She hadn’t seen that, before.

And now her mood was ruined. This recollection brought up several memories she didn’t need to think about. How she had left Peter to go start her movie career. She didn’t know the specifics of it, but she knew he was heartbroken.

The man had a heart of gold and called her constantly, begged her to come back. She hadn’t answered a single call and immersed herself in her work. Sadly the movie hadn’t done very well and was a waste of her time, but… And there was no but. Peter had been miserable. When she saw him, when he arrived in California, she had been cold and distant and didn’t want to see him, but God…

He looked like the most downtrodden puppy she had ever seen. It broke her heart instantly. Didn’t stop her from giving him the cold shoulder and acting like her estranged fiancé was nothing more than an ex-agent, though.
However, he definitely appeared to be in better spirits now. She couldn’t see his face, of course, but assumed purely on principle, that he was enjoying himself. He was in a very, very enviable position in the eyes of men everywhere. That happens when there’s a woman sitting on his face and a woman sitting in his lap.

MJ couldn’t watch it for long. The sight of one of the women, she was short, but her endowments spread perfectly to give her an ass so shapely and fat that MJ felt self-conscious. She was on Peter’s face, her thick thighs enclosed around his head. He was fine, though. He could hold his breath for minutes. MJ knew.

Scowling, the second woman was, of course, Min Wei. She was in trouble, and that brought a smile to MJ’s face. She was easing herself down gingerly, slowly, as the iceberg like mass moved up inside her. Iceberg being the chosen word because there is no other term to describe an inevitable, rearranging mass that stubbornly pushes past everything in its way, and Min was finding that out. Her petite slit and lithe body just weren’t made for what was in her boss’s pants, though she was determined to change that, obviously, by retroactive determination and sheer willful ignorance of her body’s protests.

If there was every any doubt that she was having a bad time, the soaked panties haphazardly pushed to the side contrasted that notion. She wasn’t having a bad time, she was just having a hard one. One that didn’t seem to be all that bad as Peter’s had found her hard little nub and rubbed it, and MJ remembered how his hands could just… Min’s head shock back and she groaned, and another inch sunk deeper, but she was mumbling unintelligibly by then.

The video changed, and it was obviously well into… that, as the sun was setting whereas before it was bright. Peter was in all the way now, flush, and Min was rubbing her stomach, cooing, asking if she was being a good employee or if she needed to do a better job. What she got was a groan and a thrust that made her go into the air with the sheer force of it, and her eyes pop open wide in surprise, her mouth in an O shape from the shock.

“Oh, Slick gave you a raise?” The short woman laughed. She was perched on Peter’s face, watching as casually as you please, with her hand propping her face up. The only indication that she was sitting on his face was the fact that she actively gyrated her hips and her face was red and every few seconds she’d curse or coo, but other than that, she was the picture definition of serenity.

“Fuck, you want my ass?” She rasped. “God, that’ll hurt in the morning, but fine. You want it, Slick? It’s fucking yours, just put that tongue deeper, you…. Fuck.”

MJ blinked.

The video changed at that point, and now… now they were bent over the desk, both of them facing the camera. The shorter woman and her cherubic features wore a mask of effort and frustration as Peter slowly eased into her, his actions only doubtful to someone with half a brain. But by that point MJ’s brain could have fallen out of her mouth. The woman’s fat ass, and that was the only way to describe the creamy, jiggling flesh that shook with every thunderous clap as Peter pressed up against her, was as pink as her face, and soon her face was a stupid smile, and she was drooling, biting her lip, and just generally looking like she enjoyed having a dick up her ass.

And she did, in fact, have a dick up her ass. Her own words left no doubt to that fact. “I don’t… hah, I don’t think that this is the best way to-fuck-have kids, Slick,” she joked, looking behind her. “Wrong fucking hole, for one, and- fuck!”

The next thrust sent her head back into her folded arms, and she groaned. Min Wei watched with a smirk.

The video changed, and for a few seconds, MJ saw nothing. She heard voices, though.

“I hope you like sharing,” Min Wei’s voice said.

“Why should I have to share? He has plenty for you,” the other woman’s voice said, guardedly.

“Because I like Queen’s creampies.”

“Actually, I think they’re called Boston-“ Peter’s voice laughed.

“Just shut up and spread your legs,” Min Wei said matter-of-factly.

The sound of rustling gave way to an unusual sight. The camera showed Peter, naked and reclining in his chair, his every Olympian muscle shining with a thin layer of sweat, and the woman in his lap, lounging against him. She was beautiful, MJ saw, but was half his fucking size. Her tits were covered in hickeys and red marks from hands no doubt, and she was panting slightly.

The shortstack woman groaned as he started to lift her up, and that was when MJ noticed how full she was, almost pregnant. Her belly sloshed as Peter moved her gingerly, kissing her to silence her as he unsheathed inch after inch, and that was when MJ realized she had the entire thing inside her, and up her ass. The tight out-only ring was stretched beyond function now and when Peter pulled out all the way it didn’t even try to shut itself, instead only drooling stupidly what seemed like liters of viscous, gooey semen from her bowels.

Right into Min Wei’s mouth.

MJ couldn’t watch the rest of that. She fast forwarded past that, past Min Wei swallowing the rectally gifted splooge, past the last mouthful being shared by her and the other woman while the ominous, fat thing slid back and forth between her cheeks, and past Min Wei sealing her mouth shut to the shorter woman’s still open hole in a vacuum tight kiss, sucking the remains of her boss, Peter Parker’s, sperm right out of her colon.

It was hard to focus on work the next day.

x-x-

The final video was extremely tamer. That was because it was only a single card on a table, the table in Peter’s office, she realized. The white business card brought with it memories of his old calling cards, only it didn’t have the, ‘From your friendly neighborhood,’ on it. It was a scrawl, with names. Mary Jane Watson, Felicia Hardy, Gwen Stacy, and many more. Carol Danvers was one.

A dainty had placed another propped up card on the table. It read, “He is amazing.”

The video ended. MJ made a strangled noise, and then her doorbell rang.

Definitely in no mood to see anyone, and certainly not in the mood to solve the problem between her legs with her toys, she stomped over to her door and wrenched it open.

What she was not expecting to see was… herself. Two of herself. One with short, dark red hair and a yellow t-shirt with a web pattern on it… and one in a white and red spider-man suit, and a domino mask with her hair done up in a bun. Between the two of them she was obviously older, with her curves putting both of the other MJs to shame, her hips wide and fertile and her breasts heavy and swollen.

And then there was Carol Danvers looking uncomfortable behind her. Belatedly MJ realized she ditched the butch-cut and had gone back to the long haired look.

Without so much as a how do you do, the older MJ stepped inside, pushing her counterpart back like she was a child.
The younger, short haired MJ followed, giving her a nasty look, and Carol stepped in, taller than them all but the most bashful. She gave MJ a quiet, “Hi, sorry,” and stepped inside.

“What the fuck?” MJ asked thoroughly at the end of her rope as she looked at her… MILF counterpart.

The Mary Jane in red and white looked around the room and was apparently dissatisfied with what she saw. Specifically, the lack of photos. MJ had a single photo of her and Tony drinking, purely a friendly occasion, on her wall. When the older MJ saw that she made a disgusted face.

In short order she undid her bun and let her long red hair fall down, then she took off her mask. What MJ saw was an older, more mature her that looked fucking pissed. She had to be around ten years older than MJ, but still looked young. The younger, short haired MJ behind her only made her look like the eldest twin, or triplet.

The curvy Mary Jane hissed in a long, displeased breath. She gestured distastefully at MJ, obviously not happy about looking at her. “Mary Jane Watson…” she said, gesturing at MJ.

She then turned to her younger self. “Mary-Jane Parker,” she said succinctly.

Then she pointed at herself. Mary Jane Watson Parker.” Looking at Carol, she pointed at MJ, and Carol dejectedly went over to her. “Carol fucking Danvers… God, what the fuck happened to you,” she muttered.

The eldest Mary Jane procured a photo of a little red haired girl. “Annie May Parker.” She said, pointing furiously at the photo. “Second child.” She pointed at the ceiling, and thus, the heavens. “May Parker. First child.”

She was seething as she pointed shakily to the photo of MJ and Tony and gave MJ a disbelieving, thoroughly disgusted look. The younger Mary Jane voiced her own thoughts, literally. “Really?”

The youngest redhead procured a phone and pointed at it. Specifically, at the video on the screen that showed Min Wei and a few other women crowded around a single cock. It had a caption: Spectacular.

Mary Jane Watson Parker shook her head. “You fucked up.”