Spider-Man of Earth 65

"Woah. Careful there. Gotta calibrate your thrusters, huh?"

Felix Faeth was officially on the road. The RV had been customized a fair bit in order for him to be able to sleep, watch TV, or, right now, tinkering with his spidey-suit.

Two mini-Herbies zipped around Felix. Each was about the size of a soda can, sleek and chrome, with little claw-like hands that alternated between screwdrivers, pliers, and bursts of concentrated flames like miniature blowtorches. They worked diligently, making tiny adjustments to the Spider-Man suit laid out on the RV's dinette table.

Felix sat cross-legged on the bench, wearing a black tank top and sweatpants, his hands busy soldering a delicate circuit into the wrist gauntlet of the suit. His Advanced Glasses hovered a digital blueprint in the air before him, the schematics rotating slowly as he made his adjustments.

"Alright, Mini-Herbie One, hold that steady," Felix murmured, leaning closer.

The first Herbie floated to the side, holding the edge of the gauntlet with a precision grip while the second hovered overhead, torch at the ready.

"Mini-Herbie Two, just a quick heat to seal it—quick, I said!"

Mini-Herbie Two responded with a series of cheerful beeps before igniting its torch, applying just the right amount of heat to bond the circuit.

"Perfect." Felix leaned back, blowing on the freshly soldered connection to cool it off. He glanced at the suit, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. It was almost ready. Technically, he had been ready before but like all inventions, there had to be some last minute adjustments. 

What was this new suit called? 

The Superior Suit. 

The Superior Suit was a marvel, but it wasn't perfect yet—at least not by Felix's standards. He frowned when he noticed the speed of electricity. 'It's good, but good isn't enough. I need seamless. Instantaneous.'

He reached for the thin panels that made up the web-wings, currently detached from the main suit. They shimmered faintly under the overhead light as he unfolded them, running his fingers over the edges.

"Gotta make these retract faster," he muttered, half to himself, half to the mini-Herbies. "Right now, they're too slow. If I'm mid-dive, I can't wait a whole half-second for the wings to extend. That's how you become a street pancake."

Mini-Herbie One let out a sarcastic-sounding beep.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it," Felix shot back. He turned the web-wing over in his hand, tracing the faint lines of the nanotechnology woven into its structure. "Maybe if I reroute the power flow through a secondary circuit…"

His thoughts drifted as he worked, his mind already jumping ahead to future upgrades. Ideally, the suit wouldn't even need to be worn like a traditional costume. It would deploy directly from something small and portable, like a watch.

"Imagine that: a watch. I could be Spider-Man anytime I want."

If only he could figure out the last piece of the puzzle.

Felix leaned back against the booth, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Reed's capsules can contain everything, whether it's a suit or metal or a car. Theoretically, I can downsize the capsule into a watch. Shouldn't be an issue. But that would just summon the suit. I want to click the watch and automatically wear it. The nanotechnology has to activate with the capsule which…I haven't come close to doing."

Mini-Herbie Two chirped, asking why that was the case.

"Because I haven't been able to understand how his capsules work. Reed said something about Pym Particles and I've sort-of observed them. But…look, okay, so fundamentally, Kirbons are what Pym Particles really are: primordial subatomic particles that give matter its size, mass and density. Apparently, some guy named Pym 'tamed' the particles for use within the living body. Do you know how crazy that is? This dude bypassed the Square-cube law of conventional physics! How the hell do you do that?"

No answer.

See, the Fantastic Computer held a lot of information but it was not a journal or a storage device. The computer was not for Reed to use to help invent and discover: no, it was the other way around. The computer helped Reed discover and invent. Reed Richards was smarter than a whole supercomputer!

Felix Faeth was a normal college graduate and with Extremis unclogging any and all weaknesses, he was something of a genius. But could he invent portal technology at the age of sixteen? Could he traverse multiple universes?

Hell. No.

Felix set the web-wing down, glancing at the Advanced Glasses display hovering before him. A blinking notification reminded him he'd been at this for four hours. Four hours of this thirty-hour journey. A break was in order. 

"Alright, Herbies," Felix said, clapping his hands lightly. "That's enough tinkering for now. Go to the rooftop and recharge. The sun should be up."

Although Felix was a new super genius, he was still a genius. A genius that managed to supercharge this RV with new mechanics with solar panels lined with Wakandan Vibranium. Super efficient shit that would power the car for years without any gas.

That's right, Felix Faeth created a fully-functioning electric vehicle. Although credit where credit was due, he did have a bit of help from Spencer Smythe. He left a lot of notes inside this thing. Yes, inside, like in the engine and inside the antenna. His plan for this RV was to ultimately make it self-sustaining and left the space and means to do it. Felix took advantage of those means and accomplished it.

The two mini-Herbies beeped in unison, stowing their tools before zipping off to their docking stations near the kitchenette. Felix watched them go with a small smile. 'I should program them some R&R time. Maybe teach them to play chess or something.'

Stretching his arms over his head, Felix stood and wandered to the back of the RV, where the queen-sized bed was neatly made. He flopped onto it face-first, the mattress bouncing slightly under his weight.

For a moment, he just lay there, letting the hum of the RV and the gentle vibration of the road lull him into relaxation. The autopilot system had everything under control, and for once, he didn't feel the need to micromanage.

Rolling onto his back, Felix grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up, illuminating his face as he scrolled aimlessly. A couple of texts, a few missed calls from HR (which Liv told him to ignore), and an email notification from one of his suppliers about a delayed shipment. Technically not his, actually, moreso Alistair's. Felix didn't want to cancel it since it was a shipment of metals. Nearly a hundred metric tones of it. 

He wasn't exactly bored—there was something oddly satisfying about lying down while a literal house-on-wheels carried him across the country—but he had work to do. Felix flicked open a chat with Christine Everhart. You know, the hot blonde he plowed at Anthony Stark's place? Her. 

< Felix Faeth: Got some info for you. Something you'll want to see.

She took a good ten minutes to reply.

< Christine Everhart: Sorry, who is this? I have your contact name listed as 'Best Dick Ever'

< Christine Everhart: Just kidding! Is this a booty call, Felix? Sorry, but some things are more important than sex. Like not being homeless. 

< Felix Faeth: I have information. 

< Christine Everhart: What kind?

This was…a risk. He did catch Christine Everhart visiting Norman Osborn that one time. However, there was no one else he knew or trusted that could publish this information. 

< Felix Faeth: It's a big scoop is all I can say.

< Christine Everhart: Everybody says that. 

There was a pause. He could almost picture her sitting somewhere, smirking at her phone with one eyebrow raised, trying to decide if he was worth her time. Then the dots popped up.

< Christine: Fine. If it's that serious, I'll only accept it in person.

Felix sighed audibly, running a hand through his dark hair. "Of course," he muttered to himself. He wasn't sure if Christine was being difficult or just wanting an excuse to meet up. Probably both.

< Felix Faeth: Where are you?

< Christine Everhart: Not in New York. I'm in Des Moines. Far, far away. 

< Christine Everhart: So if this is really THAT important, come. 

Felix blinked. "Des Moines?" he repeated aloud, the word sounding as unexciting as the flat plains he imagined surrounded it. "Who the hell goes to Des Moines?"

Still, it was better than driving hours out of the way. Des Moines was practically on the route from New York to San Francisco, a small silver lining in his otherwise winding journey.

"Alright. Herbie, plot a route to Des Moines. Shortest time possible."

Herbie's smooth voice piped up in his earpiece, completely unfazed by the impromptu detour. "Calculating the fastest route to Des Moines, Iowa. Distance: 1,080 miles. Estimated travel time: 15 hours and 32 minutes. However, with optimized routing and avoiding traffic zones, I can shave off four hours."

"Nice."

At that very moment, a silver sedan pulled up alongside the Rustbucket in the neighboring lane. Felix didn't notice, but the driver—a gray-haired, bespectacled man—certainly noticed him. Perhaps in some universes, he would have made an astute observation on the state of the RV. That its solar panels were made of Vibranium and that it was a superefficient, one-of-a-kind vehicle.

This was not that world.

In this world, Hank Pym was a farmer who gave the RV a casual glance before his eyes narrowed. His mouth dropped slightly as he noticed the driver's seat was... empty.

"Maria, look at this!" 

"What?" Maria Trovaya, his wife, looked up from her phone in the passenger seat. Hank gestured wildly at the RV next to them, keeping a white-knuckled grip on the wheel.

"The RV! It's—it's driving itself!"

Maria leaned over, squinting through the window as the Rustbucket effortlessly stayed in its lane. It was strange. Eerie, even. She shrugged. "Must be new Oscorp tech or something."

"New Oscorp tech?" Hank repeated incredulously. "They're letting those things on the road already? Haven't they watched Terminator?"

"I think you drink too much and watch too many movies, dear."

In the back seat, their teenage daughter Nadia popped her head up from her tablet, her voice matter-of-fact. "Oscorp or Stark Industries or . Automated vehicles are getting pretty common, Dad."

Hank shook his head, muttering, "Common, my ass. That thing looks like it should be on cinder blocks."

Hank Pym took a dumb chug of alcohol and sped up to pull away from the inexplicably self-driving RV. Maria just chuckled and went back to scrolling her phone.

Back inside the Rustbucket, Felix tossed his phone onto the bed and stretched his arms over his head. The RV jostled gently beneath him as Herbie's autopilot handled the highway without so much as a hiccup. It was honestly a little too smooth—Felix was starting to forget he was in a vehicle at all.

"Alright," he said aloud to himself, more to fill the silence than anything. "I'm not making it 15 hours awake."

He reached into the small compartment on the side of the bed where he kept some of his necessities: a few snacks, bottled water, and—most importantly—his sleeping pills. Felix shook a couple into his hand, popped them into his mouth, and washed them down with water. It wasn't ideal, but after the whirlwind of the last few days, he needed some real sleep.

Lying back, he crossed his arms behind his head again and stared up at the ceiling. "Hopefully this works and Extremis doesn't wash it out. Maybe if I relax…"

Relax…don't perceive it as a threat…

Yeah...there it was...

Relax...

"Herbie," Felix mumbled, his voice already slurred with drowsiness. "Wake me up if anything happens."

"Yes, sir," the AI Herbie replied. "Sleep well."

Felix didn't hear the last part. Within minutes, he was out cold, the stress of the last few days finally fading as the Rustbucket barreled its way toward Des Moines.

Spider-Man was finally sleeping. 

*****

He was texted a location, time, and room number. Perfect. 

The Rustbucket pulled itself into the parking lot of the Des Moines Sunrise Motel with a satisfied sigh. The motel itself was classic middle-of-nowhere fare—a faded neon sign flickering out front, cracked asphalt in the parking lot, and a lobby that likely smelled of cheap coffee and cigarettes.

Still, Christine Everhart had chosen the place, so it must've been fine enough for her standards. Felix stepped out of the RV, running a hand through his hair as he surveyed the lot. He spotted her almost immediately—leaning against the door of a second-floor room, phone in hand, sunglasses perched on her nose. The blonde looked as polished and sharp as ever, even at a run-down motel.

"Everhart," Felix called out as he approached. "You sure know how to pick 'em. What was the rating on this place? Two stars? One?"

Christine smirked, lowering her sunglasses to look at him properly. "Don't be such a snob, Mr. Felix Faeth. Did you get a promotion or something?"

"Something like that," Felix replied dryly as he reached the stairs, climbing up toward her.

She pushed off the wall and tucked her phone into her pocket, tilting her head to give him a once-over. "You look good. You don't look like you've driven long."

"Maybe I'm always pretty," Felix said. "But I didn't come here for small talk. I have information you're going to want."

Christine raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "Oh? I'm all ears."

Felix gestured vaguely toward the room behind her. "Inside. You're going to want to sit down for this."

She shrugged and turned to unlock the door, giving him a deliberate view of the way her fitted jeans hugged her figure. Felix noted the sway of her hips and rolled his eyes at himself. Focus.

The motel room was what he expected—minimal furniture, ugly curtains, and a bedspread that had seen better days. Christine kicked the door shut behind him and tossed her sunglasses onto the small table near the bed.

"So, what's so important that you had to drive all the way out here?" she asked, turning to face him. "You were already travelling, it looks like. So what were you going to do if I didn't show?"

"I would have texted you the info and hoped for the best." Felix pulled out his phone to reference the files he'd been planning to share. "It's about Oscorp. I found—"

Christine stepped in close, cutting him off. Her hands settled on his chest, and Felix froze for just a second, glancing down at her fingers choking his balls. A tight, massaging grip that wanted to let him know…

It's time to fuck.

(**R18 Start**)

A bulge made itself known. She smiled. The slutty blonde knew what she was doing with her hands and those jeans. 

"Felix," Christine Everhart said, her voice dropping into that dangerously playful tone he'd heard before, "do you always get straight to business like this?"

Felix arched an eyebrow. "This is important, Christine."

She grinned up at him, hot and bothered. Her grip on his balls was not about to loosen anytime soon. "And it can wait, can't it?"

"Wait?" Felix echoed, though the way boobs pressed his chest made it harder to feign disinterest. "Are you always this bad at prioritizing?"

Christine laughed softly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between them. "Oh, come on, Felix. You drove all this way, didn't you? I'm sure you could use a little... downtime."

Her words hung in the air, and Felix couldn't help but smirk. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I've been called worse." Christine's fingers toyed with the collar of his shirt now, her gaze locking onto his. "And you're not exactly resisting, so don't pretend you're immune to my charm."

Felix exhaled through his nose. His cock throbbed in his pants. 

"There he is," Christine teased, leaning up just enough that her lips brushed against his jaw. "Let's make a deal: I accept the information…if you fuck me."

So he had to fuck her…just so she could accept his information? 

"I drove halfway across the country for this, and you're trying to distract me already."

"You call it a distraction," Christine murmured, her lips dangerously close to his now, "I call it a perk."

Felix chuckled softly, the sound low in his throat. "I'm starting to think you don't actually care about the information I brought."

She grinned mischievously, her voice a whisper. "Maybe I don't. But I do care about what else you brought."

Before he could respond, Christine closed the last bit of distance between them, capturing his lips in a kiss that was as confident and bold as she was. Felix hummed in mild surprise, though he recovered quickly, kissing her back with equal intensity. His grip on her waist tightened, pulling her flush against him as she tangled her fingers in his hair.

After a long moment, Christine pulled back just enough to catch her breath, a satisfied smirk on her lips. "See? Isn't this better than business talk?"

Felix exhaled slowly, still holding her close. "I'll admit it's more fun. But you're still getting that information after this."

"Sure," she said nonchalantly, tugging at his shirt. "Later."

Business could wait... for now.

Ziiiiip!

A massive cock sprang free, standing straight and proud, thick and throbbing. She licked her lips, her heart racing as she took in the sheer size of him. It had been months since they'd been together, but the sight of his monster cock still made her pussy clench with longing.

She dropped to her knees like a good whore. 

"Mmm," she hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the head. "Still as impressive as I remember."

Standing, Felix bit his bottom lip. "Christine…" 

She ignored him, wrapping her fingers around the base of his shaft and giving him a firm squeeze. Then, without hesitation, she parted her lips and took him into her mouth.

Felix bucked his hips instantly, the sensation of her warm, wet mouth engulfing him too much to resist. Christine moaned around his cock, her tongue swirling lazily against the underside. She worked slowly at first, savoring the taste of him, the way his flesh pulsed between her lips. Her hands moved in tandem, stroking the length she couldn't fit into her mouth. 

And she did with a slutty smile. She did it with a different type of erotic. She wanted him to see her ass jutting out in her jeans when kneeled down. She made that intentional arch. She made all of this intentional. 

'Fuck. Sorry, Rio, but I'm going to have to fuck this slut. Ngghhh!' 

She didn't suck him off, she just teased. Teased, teased, and teased some more with her tongue. 

"Shit," Felix hissed, his fingers tightening in her hair. "Christine, you damn slut…!."

She pulled back slightly, her tongue darting out to flick against the slit of his cockhead. A drop of pre-cum formed and she eagerly lapped it up. "Mm, I love being called that~"

Her eyes never left his. The sight of him watching her, his chest heaving with each breath, only spurred her on. She tightened her grip on his base, jerking him off with a schlap, schlap, schlap! Increasing the handjob and doing the same with her blowjob, her throat stretching to accommodate him.

'Slut, slut, slut! Damn slut!' Felix's head fell back, his hands gripping her hair like a lifeline as she worked him with expert precision. Her tongue danced along the vein running down the center of his shaft, tracing patterns that drove him wild. She bobbed her head faster, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him off with a fervor that left no doubt as to her intention.

"Fuck, Christine," he gasped. "G-gonna cum…!" 

Her only response was a muffled moan around his cock, her eyes locked on his as she quickened her pace. She wanted him to lose control, wanted to feel the rush of his climax explode against her tongue and down her throat. Her hands worked feverishly, one still wrapped around his base while the other found his balls, cupping them gently as she coaxed every ounce of pleasure from him.

"Nghhh…!" 

She pulled off him with a wet pop, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Haah…." She opened her mouth. "Jerk off and cum on my face."

Felix had never grabbed his dick and masturbated so quickly. One hand schliicking up and down his prodigious length, pre-cum oozed until—

Spurt, spurt, spuuurt!

He came all over her face. He came inside her mouth. Christine Everhart let it allll happen. She wanted to be painted. She wanted to be tainted. She was tainted. 

Her lips curled into a satisfied smile when his cock let out the last spurt of cum. She kissed the tip, then picked herself up. Christine turned and wiggled out of her jeans. Tossing them aside, she was left only in a black G-string that gave her probably the best peach ass Felix had ever seen. It wasn't a matter of shape or thiccness, it was the damn G-string. G-strings were hot.

Before she jumped onto the bed, she cleaned her face with a towel. Cock bobbing, Felix followed. 

The room was cozy, the bed neatly made but begging to be undone. Christine turned to face him and proceeded to strip off her top. No bra. C-cups boobs were there for him to leer at, white and topped pink. A white girl booty and a white girl rack. Blonde too. A perfect package for a slut like her. 

She bit her finger as she stared at his erection. "Is it because of me or is that just you…?"

Like it mattered. He rushed at her, brushing his lips against hers in a tender kiss that quickly grew heated. His tongue slipped between her parted lips, exploring her mouth with a hunger that left her breathless. When he finally pulled away, his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths.

"I missed this," Christine said. 

"Missed me?" he whispered. "You just had my cock in your mouth, Christine. How could you miss me when you've got me right here?"

She grinned mischievously, her fingers trailing down and gripping his thick member. "Maybe I just wanted more."

The sight of his long, girthy cock, still glistening with her saliva and some cum, made her mouth water. "God, you are throbbing. Are you getting bigger?"

Felix chuckled, one hand squeezing her left ass cheek as she began to stroke him slowly. "You love it, don't you?"

"Love it?" she repeated, glued to his cock. "I worship it." 

When she finally pulled off him, her eyes were glazed with lust, her cheeks flushed from the effort. "On the bed. Now."

Felix didn't need to be told twice. He climbed onto the bed, lying back against the pillows with a predatory grin. "Your move, lady."

Christine didn't hesitate. She straddled him, her hands guiding his cock to her entrance. The moment she felt the head press against her folds, she gasped, her body instinctively clenching around him.

"Easy," Felix warned, his hands gripping her hips gently. "We've got all night."

"Fuck that," she growled, her voice low and guttural. "I need you now."

With one swift motion, she sank down onto him, taking his entire length into her warmth. The feeling of him filling her completely, stretching her in the most delicious way, sent a wave of ecstasy crashing over her. She threw her head back, letting out a long, unrestrained moan.

"Felix…" she whimpered, her voice breaking as she begin to move, grinding her hips against his in slow, deliberate circles. "Oh my God…you feel so good. So big."

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Felix watched her with confident eyes, his hands roaming over her body as she rode him. One hand found her breast, squeezing the soft flesh before teasing her already hardened nipple. The other drifted lower, coming to rest on her ass, which he squeezed firmly, eliciting another moan from her.

"Your ass…" he murmured. "It's perfect. Heart-shaped. Your pussy, so damn tight."

Christine laughed breathlessly, her pleasure building. That delightful ass of her went harder, slamming faster and faster. CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! "You like it, huh?"

"Heh, I've had better."

Rio Morales…that MILF's ass was on another level. Did Latina's just do it better or what? Nevertheless, the words sent a rush of heat through her veins. "You…" Slam, slam, slam! Felix kept smirking. 

"Sorry, but this level of fucking is nothing to me."

CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! 

Christine gasped. She tried to look strong but fuuuuck! This cock! This damn cock! Her cunt was trembling and about to approach an orgasm. She could feel it building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter within her, waiting for release.

"N-no! I won't!"

"Yes, you will!"

Thrust! Felix thrust once and all of a sudden, the tables were turned. Christine Everhart had fucked Anthony Stark—and once again, was reminded that Felix Faeth was nothing like him or any other man. One thrust, one chance, and he could change everything. Felix could make you experience a toe-curling climax like no other.

"Fuuuuck! N-nooo! Feeeliiiix! Y-youuuuu…!"

They were no longer moving. Felix didn't bother thrusting. He won this. 

"Felix…" she gasped, her eyes fluttering closed. "I'm gonna—"

He didn't move. She wasn't orgasming. She was so full and feeling so weak and shaky and yet…

"Right after this," Felix said, "We exchange information. Immediately."

He only did this because he had to. Oh, sure, he loved fucking sluts, especially a blonde journalist like Christine, but he had other bigger priorities right now. Emma Frost's mission and the potential to secure an alliance with her.

"Y-yes! Fine! Fine! We do it! Tell me the information! Just…" Christine whimpered. "Make me cuuuum!"

Thrust. 

That was all it took. With a cry of pleasure, she shattered, her body convulsing around him. Her toes curled, her face contorting into an expression of pure bliss as her orgasm wracked her body. Her eyes rolled back, her tongue lolling out, and her cheeks reddened as she experienced the full force of her release.

For a moment, she was too spent to move, her body slack against his as she floated in the aftermath of her climax. But Felix wasn't done. He gripped her hips again, lifting her slightly before slamming her back down onto his cock.

A second orgasm caused her to gasp and shriek. "Feliiiiix! Feliiix, your cooocccckkk~! Your big, fat cooocckkk!"

After that second intense orgasm, Christine fainted into his arms. 

Winner: Felix Faeth. 

(**R18 End**)

Felix went easy on her. He had to since he was on a timeline. Only two hours had passed.

The motel room was dark save for the faint glow of the bathroom light spilling through the cracked door. Christine lay sprawled on the bed, her chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of deep sleep. Felix swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his tousled hair. 

He stood up, stark naked, his posture loose and casual as he padded across the room. Grabbing the phone from the nightstand, he dialed the motel's front desk.

"Hi, this is Felix from room 217," he began, voice low to avoid waking Christine. "Weird question—do you have sleeping pills available?"

The voice on the other end was chipper, maybe too chipper for someone working the graveyard shift at a motel. "Oh, yes, sir! We've got them behind the counter. How many do you need?"

Felix was great at lying at this point. "Family of five here. Travelling for a long haul. Give me as many as you can."

"Oh, okay. We have two bottles, is that alright?"

"Yes, thank you."

"I'll bring some up in a few minutes."

"Thanks." Felix hung up and leaned against the dresser, exhaling deeply.

Minutes later, there was a soft knock on the door. Felix didn't bother grabbing a towel, instead striding over to open it with the same calm confidence he always exuded.

The young woman on the other side froze, her eyes widening as they traveled down to his fully nude frame. Her gaze lingered for a beat too long on what hung between his legs before darting back up to his face.

"Uh—h-hi," she stammered, her cheeks flushed. "Your sleeping pills, sir."

Felix took the small plastic bag from her hands, his expression neutral as he said, "Thanks," and promptly closed the door in her face.

Christine stirred on the bed as he set the pills on the nightstand, her eyes fluttering open. "Mm…" She blinked a few times before focusing on the bag of pills. "Oh."

"Oh, what?"

"I…don't mean to pry but that's a lot of sleeping pills," Christine said.

Felix wanted to sight. God dammit. 

"Trust me, you don't want to get into the habit of using them." Christine sat up straight, blanket falling from her shoulders. Trust me."

'I can't. I literally can't sleep anymore without taking them. Extremis made me fucking adapt to sleeping.' 

You would think Extremis would make adapting to sleep comfortable, but no. Obviously, no. It was agitating. Annoying. His senses dialled up to eleven, he could hear a pin drop from another room. The snores, the talking, the sex, everything in a certain radius was sensed like a bat. 

The body needed rest though. It had to rest. Felix imagined even Galactus, the cosmic entity Reed mentioned who could eat planets, needed sleep. 

It was a matter of physics and the concept of energy conservation. 

"As much as I love getting dicked down by you, I did make a promise. So tell me, what's this news you wanted to tell me about?"

Fina-fucking-ly. Here it was. The plot of the matter. 

"Alistair Smythe, recently appointed to be the head of a weapons project between Oscorp and the NYPD and recently dead."

"The NYPD and Oscorp?" Christine cocked her head. "I'm interested."

"Alistair was the focal point of this project—called Project Spider Slayers. The plan was to establish New York as a military powerhouse, capture Spider-Man, and monitor crime at a level never seen before. Alistair promised the project would be finished in a couple months. Three months maximum. Alistair is dead now though."

"Did someone assassinate him?"

"I can't say too much but yes."

"Who killed him?"

"Can't say. Classified. Government contract." 

"The government?" She was flabbergasted. "The plot thickens. Now this is a scoop! Ah, but wait, so the project is a bust? Did someone assassinate Alistair to stop this project or what? Is it connected to Spider-Man? Is Spider-Man involved with Oscorp or the NYPD or—"

"Slow down," Felix said. "And not exactly. My bet is they are going to ask me."

"Y-you? Really?" Christine laughed and pointedly glanced at his nether regions. A hot lip bite. "Mm, what are you, the modern day Leonardo da Vinci?"

"I'll take the compliment but I won't take that job. I'm not interested in spying or drone-striking New York City and whoever the police deem a criminal."

'Alistair wasn't either. He only did it because he wanted to get closer to Norman Osborn.' 

See, the CDs Alistair sent him contained more than that message of great power and responsibility. It also discussed his plans and theories on what Osborn wanted. Issue was…Norman Osborn did not have friends. He did not apologize. He did not let anyone exploit his one and only weakness, that being his son Harry Osborn.

So what else could Alistair do but do as he asked and prove himself? Alistair and Osborn were business partners. That was why they did the mergers. If Alistair proved himself further, maybe they could be friends. Maybe he could find out what happened to Gwen Stacy. 

Felix was not Alistair, however. He had other options. 

"So you're certain Oscorp is going to ask you to take the job."

"Yes."

'That's why Liv let me go on this vacation. She wants me to be in top shape and be in my good graces.' 

Felix was no fool. He knew her game. He knew politics.

Knock, knock.

The knock echoed through the room, interrupting whatever Christine was about to say. Felix frowned, glancing toward the door.

"Expecting someone?" Christine teased, leaning back against the pillows. She looked far too relaxed, her hair messy in the most attractive way possible as she reached for the half-empty glass of wine on the nightstand. "If it's a government official, then it's all you, baby. I'll pretend to be a sleepy bimbo who knows nooothing."

'My Spider-Sense isn't going off. I doubt its SHIELD. Could just be the clerk again.'

Completely nude, he strolled toward the door. He unlocked the door and opened it casually, his brows furrowing when he saw the person standing there. He blinked twice.

"You're…"

A redhead.

A singer.

A beauty.

"Mary Jane Watson," the redhead said with a dazzling smile. She leaned against the doorframe like she owned the place, her emerald-green eyes locked on his. "Full-time singer, and full-time listener to whatever you've been doing—and so far, I like it."

Felix blinked rapidly.

Mary Jane Watson was perhaps the most conventionally attractive woman he had met, matching Czarina and maybe, just maybe, surpassing her. Her long, fiery red hair cascaded over her shoulders like it had been sculpted from living flames. Her skin was flawless, her features sharp yet soft, with high cheekbones and a confident smirk that could make a statue blush. She wore tight, high-waisted jeans that accentuated her curves and a white crop top under a leather jacket. The outfit was casual, but on her, it looked runway-ready.

But it was her eyes that got him. They glinted with mischief and boldness, like she could—and would—do anything she wanted.

And she was checking him out. Her gaze traveled down his body, shameless and slow, until it stopped at his crotch. Her smirk widened, and she licked her lips.

"Wow," she said, her voice a throaty purr. "You don't even bother to cover up, huh? Gotta respect that."

Felix, still in shock, managed to make himself seem cool and casual. As if he wasn't affected. "I...wasn't expecting celebrity company."

"No kidding." She stepped forward, her jacket sliding off her shoulders as she sauntered inside. Felix didn't stop her, still too caught off guard by her sheer presence.

Christine, now sitting up on the bed, paled white. The blonde was outshined by this gorgeous, busty redhead. "Uh, Felix? Why is Mary Jane Watson here?"

Mary Jane glanced over at Christine, giving her a polite nod before turning back to Felix. "You're quite the busy man, aren't you?"

Felix found his voice, though it came out more flustered than he would've liked. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing...?"

Mary Jane leaned in close, her lips curling into that infamous smirk as she whispered, "Face it, tiger. You just hit the jackpot."