Slightly Better Than Twinkies - Peter Maximoff

22. Knight to C4 | Kill Bishop | PART ONE

Word Count: 7748

Warnings: jebus guys this is just a really long, stupid chapter that I had to put into two goddamn parts please help me lol swearing, flirting, Tony Stark, that's about it love you all <3

You scoffed as you stared at yourself in the mirror, the shirt that you were planning on wearing sitting on the counter while you aggressively applied concealer to a spot on your neck - one that was quite low, but was in such a place that every shirt you had wasn't the right shape to cover it.

The frustration in your movements wouldn't go unnoticed to anyone, no matter how well they knew you.

You were already at least ten minutes into trying to cover the damn hickey that was somehow able to still poke through the layers and layers you swear you caked onto your skin, leaving you to just get more and more aggravated.

"Okay," you sighed, stepping back to look at it from a different angle, then turned to Zelda, who was happily sitting on the floor next to you. "What do you think?"

She whined softly and wagged her tail, making you look back over into the mirror at the spot that was still quite prominent on your skin. You huffed.

"Fuck!"

The sound of the bathroom door creaking open made you turn to it with a glare, where you saw Peter leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

"What's, uh..." He raised his hand to scratch at his nose, clearly to hide a laugh while a guilty smile spread across his face. "What's wrong?"

After crumpling up the dirty makeup wipe, you aimed for his head and threw it aggressively, though he was easily able to reach up and catch it.

"You're an asshole, that's what," you murmured, turning back to look in the mirror while Peter stepped up behind you. "We're supposed to be seeing my dad tonight!"

He hummed softly and wrapped his arms around your waist. "I'm aware."

When he didn't continue, you raised your eyebrows at him in the mirror.

He seemed to get the hint. "And... what's the problem?"

You scoffed again and waved your hands frantically. "The problem is that it's been two days and you and your little cocky marking shenanigans only seem to be getting darker! And you had to do it the one time a month we see my father!"

Ever since that fateful Saturday afternoon, Peter had somehow become even clingier than before. Apparently, his testosterone had been more than happy to comply with the fact that you were still wanted by other men.

His confidence seemed to skyrocket, and, yet, at the same time, it was like no matter where you were you had him buried in your neck or pressed up against you so tightly you almost couldn't breathe.

You couldn't lie - you loved the attention and the affection, especially since it seemed to be in such limited supply lately.

But, goddamn, this one thing was just frustrating if anything, and it didn't exactly have any bright solutions.

Luckily, no one besides Jean was really questioning why you were wearing warmer, less revealing clothing - but that wasn't exactly going to fly at the Compound.

"What, is it not dark enough?" he asked, leaning down to press his lips to your skin. "Because I can certainly help with that. Actually, I'm thinking I should go a little higher because you don't show too much of your back or chest, so I gotta kind of show that-"