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Maria Hill leaned against the sleek glass wall of the S.H.I.E.L.D. command center, her arms crossed as she stared at the holographic footage of the latest chaos in New York. Spider-Man and Vulture’s clash had left a trail of destruction—not to mention a downed S.H.I.E.L.D. jet filled with priceless equipment.
“This is exactly what I warned you about,” she muttered. “An untrained, overpowered kid swinging around in a glorified onesie, and who’s keeping him in check? Happy Hogan? It was a disaster waiting to happen. And now the waiting's over.”
Nick Fury stood beside her, his one eye scanning the damage with a grim expression. He crossed his arms, his leather coat creaking softly.
“Stark’s been playing fast and loose with this one,” he agreed, his tone low and measured. “Kid’s got potential, but he’s a loose cannon. And Stark’s too busy playing mentor to realize the risk.”
Maria turned to him, her eyes blazing. “Risk? This isn’t just a risk, Fury. It’s a liability. That kid’s not ready for this. He’s still in high school, and he’s out there tangling with weapons smugglers on jetpacks. What happens when he decides to take on another enhanced criminal and things get out of hand? When someone gets hurt—or worse?”
Fury sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’ve had this conversation with Stark. More than once. But you know how he is. Thinks he can handle everything on his own. Thinks he’s got it under control.”
“Well, he doesn’t,” Maria snapped. “And if Stark won’t rein him in, maybe we should.”
Fury turned to her, a rare glint of satisfaction in his eye. “Well it’s a good thing I’m such a good negotiator then,” he said. “Last time I talked to him, Stark agreed to hand the kid over to us—on one condition. I don’t interfere with his so-called ‘training.’ But,” he added, pausing for effect, “he’s agreed to let S.H.I.E.L.D. take over the day-to-day oversight. Hogan’s been officially benched.”
Maria raised an eyebrow, her expression caught between skepticism and mild curiosity. “And who’s got the unlucky job of babysitting the web-slinger?” she asked, though the answer already hung in the air like an unspoken decree.
Fury’s lips twitched into the faintest of smiles.
Maria’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening as she processed Fury’s expression. She clenched her fists at her sides, with barely a contained frustration. “You can’t be serious,” she said, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “You’re really handing me this headache of job? No. Absolutely not.”
Fury didn’t flinch, his expression as unreadable as ever. “It’s not a request, Hill. It’s an order.”
Maria scoffed, shaking her head as she turned away from him, pacing a short line across the sleek floor. “An order?” she shot back, her words biting. This isn’t a mission, Fury—it’s a punishment. And frankly, I don’t deserve it.”
Fury remained calm, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched her bristle. “You’re the best we’ve got, Hill. You’ve got the experience, the discipline, and, most importantly, the spine to keep that kid in line. Stark’s approach was hands-off and kid gloves when it was hands-on, I want a drill sergeant . You’re the only one who can handle this.”
Maria stopped pacing, her gaze snapping back to him. “Handle what, exactly? Helping him with his homework? Making sure he gets home for bed on time? Or do you expect me to hold his hand while he swings off into another disaster?” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “This is a waste of my time, Fury. I’m not a damn nanny.”
“No,” Fury replied, his voice steady but firm. “You’re a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. And right now, this is what S.H.I.E.L.D. needs. Like you said, that kid’s a liability, and if we don’t get him under control, it’s not just his neck on the line—it’s ours. Are you really going to let your ego jeopardize that?”
Maria’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes blazing with defiance. But she couldn’t argue with the logic, even if she despised it. She let out a sharp exhale, her shoulders squaring as she met Fury’s gaze head-on.
“Fine,” she said, cold and clipped. “But if that kid steps one toe out of line, I’m done. No second chances. And you can tell Stark to keep his damn hands out of my operation.”
Fury’s lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Noted.”
Maria turned back to the footage of Spider-Man’s latest disaster, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.
“This is a mistake, Fury,” she muttered under her breath. “But if you’re so determined to throw me to the wolves, don’t expect me to play nice.”
---
Peter Parker adjusted the strap of his backpack as he shuffled down the quiet street after school, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the pavement. His mind drifted to Liz, her laugh echoing in his memory like a bittersweet melody. It had been weeks since the Vulture incident, but the weight of that night still lingered. He kicked a pebble absentmindedly, his shoulders slumping under the invisible burden of it all.
“Parker,” a deep, gravelly voice called out, stopping him in his tracks. He turned, his eyes widening as he recognized the imposing figure of Nick Fury. The man’s long coat billowed slightly in the breeze, his one eye fixed on Peter with an intensity that made the teen shift uncomfortably.
“Mr. Fury,” Peter said. “Uh, what are you doing here?”
“Walk with me,” Fury said, gesturing down the street. Peter hesitated for a moment before falling into step beside him. “Stark and I had a little chat,” Fury continued, his tone calm but carrying an edge. “He’s decided S.H.I.E.L.D. should take a more active role in your… extracurricular activities.”
Peter’s brow furrowed. “Wait, what? Mr. Stark didn’t say anything about this.”
“He didn't have to,” Fury replied, his tone clipped and final. “We’ve reached an understanding. Hogan’s stepping back. We’re stepping in.”
Peter halted mid-step, his sneakers scuffing against the pavement. “That’s—that’s not fair. I’ve been handling things.”
Fury turned, his one eye locking onto Peter with an intensity that could have melted steel. “This isn’t about fairness, Parker. It’s about keeping you and everyone around you alive. You’ve got potential, but you’re still green. And green gets people killed.”
Peter’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not some rookie,” he shot back, though the crack in his voice betrayed his confidence. “I’ve been doing this for a while now.”
Fury’s expression didn’t waver. “Congratulations. Now let’s see if you actually do it properly.”
Without another word, Fury led Peter to an unassuming building a block away. Its facade was as bland as a post office, but as they stepped inside, the space transformed. Sleek, glass-paneled monitors lined the walls, casting a cool blue glow over the room. Tech that looked like it belonged on an alien spacecraft hummed softly, and agents moved with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Peter’s jaw practically hit the floor.
“Consider this your new HQ,” Fury said, gesturing to the labyrinth of high-tech equipment. “You’ll be here daily. Get acquainted.”
Peter crossed his arms, trying to mask his awe with skepticism. “So… what, you’re my new boss now?”
Fury’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk on his face. “Not exactly. But trust me, you’re in very capable hands.”
Peter’s eyes widened, his stomach sinking as he realized just whose hands Fury was talking about.
The door to the facility hissed open, and Peter’s attention snapped toward the sound. A woman strode in, her presence immediately commanding the room with an intensity that made Peter feel like a bug under a microscope. She was tall, her silhouette sharp and confident, her figure accentuated by the form-fitting black tactical suit that hugged her every curve. Her dark hair fell in tight updo, with only some loose bangs over face, framing piercing blue eyes that scanned the room with an efficiency that made Peter feel like he’d already been weighed, measured, and found wanting.
Peter’s cheeks flushed as he took her in. She was stunning, but not in the way Liz had been—soft and approachable. No, this woman was sharp, like a blade honed to perfection. Her beauty was cold, almost untouchable, and it only made her more magnetic. He couldn’t help but notice body, particularly her boobs. But what really caught him off guard was the way she carried herself—like she owned every inch of the space around her. Damn, Peter thought, his mouth suddenly dry. She’s… wow.
Her gaze landed on Peter, and the briefest flicker of annoyance passed over her features. “This is him?” she asked, her voice crisp with disdain. “The so-called ‘friendly neighborhood Spider-Man’?”
“Kid, meet Maria Hill,” Fury said, his tone dry. “Your new handler.”
Maria’s lips pressed into a thin line, and Peter could practically feel the irritation radiating off her.
She crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing as she looked him over. “Let’s get one thing straight, Parker. I’m not here to be your friend, your mentor, or your cheerleader. You screw up, and I’ll be the one cleaning up the mess. So do us both a favor and don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Peter swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very small under her scrutinizing gaze. “Uh… yes, ma’am,” he managed. He couldn’t tell if he was more intimidated or embarrassed—or both.
“Right,” Fury said, his tone final as he turned on his heel. “I’ll leave you two to get more acquainted.” With that, he strode out of the room, the door hissing shut behind him.
She wasted no time, her sharp gaze locking onto him like a predator sizing up prey. “Listen up, Parker,” she began, cool and commanding. “Your days of winging it are over. From here on out, you follow my lead. Training starts at 5 a.m. sharp. No exceptions. You’ll work on combat drills, tactical awareness, and situational analysis. You’ll also be expected to maintain your academic performance—no excuses there either.”
Peter blinked as he tried to process the avalanche of expectations. “Wait, 5 a.m.? That’s—that’s before school even—”
“Do I look like I care?” Maria cut him off, her tone icy. “You’re in the big leagues now, kid. This isn’t some after-school hobby. You’ll report here every morning, every evening, and every weekend. Your social life is officially on hold.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, but just out of frustration. She was standing close, too close, and he could smell the faint scent of her. Her presence was…not unwanted in a way that was both unnerving and… confusing. He couldn’t help but notice how the way her arms crossed accentuated her chest. Focus, Parker, he scolded himself, but his thoughts kept drifting back to how intense she was—and how, despite himself, he found it kind of… hot.
“Got it?” Maria asked, pulling him back to reality. Her eyes bore into his, daring him to argue.
“Yeah,” Peter said, his voice faint. “Got it.”
“Good,” she said, stepping back slightly, though her gaze never wavered. “Don’t make me regret this anymore then I already do, Parker.”
Peter nodded, feeling both in over his head and weirdly exhilarated. This was going to be a long, complicated ride.
---
The weeks that followed were a blur of relentless training and sharp-tongued critiques. Maria didn’t hold back—not in her demands or her disdain. Every morning at 5 a.m., Peter dragged himself to the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility, where Maria was already waiting and already unimpressed.
“You’re late,” she snapped on the first day, her voice cutting through the quiet hum of the facility. Peter blinked, still half-asleep.
“I got here on time,” he protested weakly.
“Not soon enough,” she shot back. “Start with the obstacle course.”
Peter stumbled through it, his limbs heavy and uncoordinated. Maria watched with a critical eye, her arms crossed as he fumbled over walls and ropes. “Is this your idea of peak performance?” she called out as he tripped over a hurdle. “You’d be dead in a real fight.”
By week two, the morning grind had settled into a brutal routine. Combat drills left Peter bruised and winded, Maria barked orders from the sidelines. “Keep your guard up!” she snapped as he blocked a simulated attack. “You’re not swatting flies.” He tried—he really did—but every move was met with another critique. “Faster!” “Cleaner!” “Do you even know what you’re doing?”
Sparring sessions were especially grueling. Maria was relentless, her strikes precise and unforgiving. “You’re too predictable,” she said after flipping him onto the mat for the third time. “Stop telegraphing your moves. Or are you just trying to make it easy for me?”
Peter gritted his teeth, scrambling to his feet. “I’m trying,” he muttered.
“Not hard enough,” she shot back.
Even his web-slinging wasn’t safe. “Your swings are sloppy,” Maria observed, watching him navigate a training course. “You’re wasting momentum. Clean it up, Parker. Or are you just showing off?”
Peter opened his mouth to argue but thought better of it. “Yes, ma’am,” he said instead, though the words tasted bitter.
By week three, the exhaustion was starting to show. Peter’s grades were slipping, his nights spent poring over textbooks after hours of training.
“You look like hell,” Maria remarked one morning, her tone almost (but not quite) sympathetic.
“Feel like it too,” Peter admitted.
“Good,” she said. “That means you’re starting to take this seriously.”
As the weeks dragged on, Peter found himself both dreading and craving her approval. Every “Good job” (rare as they were) felt like a victory, every critique a challenge. Maria’s demands were relentless, her barbs unforgiving, but deep down, Peter couldn’t deny she was shaping him into something stronger. Even if he hated every second of it.
---
One morning, Peter arrived at the facility, bracing himself for another grueling session, only to find Maria standing with her arms crossed and an unreadable expression. “Take the day off,” she said, her tone clipped.
Peter blinked, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. “Wait, seriously?”
Maria’s eyes narrowed. “ You’re no use to me if you’re running on fumes. Go… rest. Or whatever it is teenagers do.”
Peter’s face lit up despite her cold demeanor. “No training? No drills? No, uh, tactical analysis?”
Maria’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Don’t push your luck, Parker. I’m not giving you a free pass. Just a break.”
Peter tried to laugh it off, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Agent Hill. I mean, you’re not that scary—”
“Get out of my sight,” she interrupted, her voice sharp enough to shut him up. Peter’s smile faltered, but he nodded quickly and ducked out before she could change her mind.
As soon as he was clear, Peter’s excitement bubbled up again. A day off! He hadn’t had one of those in… well, he couldn’t even remember. He grabbed his suit from his locker and headed for the roof.
Minutes later, Spider-Man was airborne, the wind rushing past him as he let out a whoop of joy. He swung higher, faster, weaving between skyscrapers with a fluidity he hadn’t been able to practice in the controlled environment of the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. He swung past a group of kids playing basketball in a park, and one of them pointed up, shouting, “Spider-Man!” Peter waved, his grin hidden behind the mask, before shooting a web and pulling himself higher.
But as much as he tried to lose himself in the moment, his thoughts kept drifting back to Agent Hill. It was infuriating, really. He should be enjoying this break, savoring the rare freedom she’d begrudgingly granted him. Instead, he couldn’t shake the image of her standing in the training facility, arms crossed, her sharp eyes watching his every move.
Why does she even care? Peter mused as he flipped onto another rooftop. She’d made it clear from day one that she didn’t want this assignment, that she saw him as little more than a liability. And yet, she’d pushed him harder than anyone ever had, her critiques cutting but undeniably aimed at making him better. It was maddening, the way she could be so cold and yet so… effective. He hated how much he craved her approval, how her rare nods of satisfaction made him feel like he’d just won the lottery. It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to matter this much.
He landed on a water tower, catching his breath as he surveyed the city. For a moment, he considered staying out all day, avoiding the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility and Maria’s piercing scrutiny altogether. But something gnawed at him—a curiosity he couldn’t ignore. What was she doing back there? Training someone else? Probably. She probably hadn’t even noticed he was gone. The thought stung more than he cared to admit.
Before he could second-guess himself, Peter shot a web and changed course, swinging back toward the S.H.I.E.L.D. training center. As he approached, he noticed something was off. The usual controlled chaos outside the facility had escalated to become more urgent. Agents were moving quickly, their expressions tense, and the air crackled with an energy that made Peter’s spider-sense tingle. His stomach dropped. What’s going on?
Peter’s spider-sense buzzed louder as he landed on a nearby rooftop, crouching low to observe the scene. A figure in a bulky, powered exosuit was storming toward the facility’s hidden entrance, the suit’s metallic surface gleaming ominously under the sunlight. The most striking feature was the enormous, spiked prehensile tail that lashed out with brutal precision, smashing through barriers and scattering S.H.I.E.L.D. agents like ants.
“What the—?” Peter asked incredulously.
He’d never seen anything like this before. The tail whipped forward, slicing through a reinforced door like it was paper, and the figure charged into the facility’s entrance, leaving chaos in his wake. Agents scrambled to regroup, but their weapons seemed to barely scratch the suit’s armor.
Peter’s mind raced. Whoever this was, they weren’t just attacking the facility—they were tearing through it. And if they got inside, there was no telling what kind of damage they could do. He glanced around, weighing his options. Maria was probably in there, handling the situation—or maybe she was already in danger. The thought of her facing this… thing alone was way too much.
“No time to think,” Peter muttered, pulling his mask down and leaping off the rooftop. He swung toward the entrance, landing just as the figure disappeared inside. The wreckage of the door lay in pieces, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of burning metal. Peter hesitated for a split second, his spider-sense screaming at him to be careful, but he couldn’t just stand by.
“Alright, whoever you are,” he said under his breath, “let’s see what you’ve got.”
Peter’s spider-sense flared as he sprinted through the facility’s corridors, following the trail of destruction left by the intruder. The sound of crashing metal and shouted orders grew louder as he approached the training room, and when he burst through the door, his heart nearly stopped.
Maria Hill was locked in a desperate battle with the armored figure, her attacks precise but utterly outmatched. The exosuit’s tail lashed out with brutal force, narrowly missing her as she dove to the side, rolling to her feet with practiced agility. Her handgun was already trained on the figure, but the bullets pinged harmlessly off the armored plating, ricocheting into the walls.
“Stand down!” she barked, her voice steady despite the danger, but the figure only laughed—a deep, guttural sound that sent a chill down Peter’s spine.
“You’re out of your league, Agent,” the figure sneered, his voice distorted by the suit’s built-in modulator. He swung the tail again, this time catching Maria’s gun and sending it skittering across the floor. She barely had time to react before he lunged at her, his movements unnervingly fast for someone in such a bulky suit.
Peter didn’t hesitate. He fired a web at the ceiling and swung into action, landing between Maria and the armored assailant. “Hey, Stingko! Ever hear of personal space?” he quipped, though his voice wavered.
The figure turned, his suit’s glowing eyes locking onto Peter with predatory intensity.
“Spider-Man,” the man growled. “I was hoping you’d show up.”
Maria caught her breath behind Peter. “Kid, what are you—?”
“I’ve got this!” Peter interrupted, though he wasn’t entirely sure he did. The tail whipped forward, and Peter barely managed to dodge. He shot a web at the tail, trying to pin it down, but the villain simply ripped it free with a single motion.
“Get back!” Maria snapped. She grabbed a stun baton from a fallen agent’s gear, her grip steady despite the chaos. Together, they faced the armored threat, their movements synced in a way neither of them expected. But even as they fought side by side, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.
After backing off from an attack, Peter watched as Maria pressed forward to engage the armored intruder. She was baiting him—just like they had practiced. Distract the enemy, create an opening, and let me take the shot. She had drilled into him during their sessions. It had made sense then, in the controlled environment of training. But now, seeing her do it in real life, his stomach churned with unease.
The figure’s tail whipped toward her, and Maria sidestepped it, but the spikes grazed her arm, tearing through her sleeve and drawing blood. Peter winced, his hands twitching as he fought the urge to rush in. She’s not just my handler, he realized with a pang of guilt. She’s out here risking her life just like me.
“Any time now, kid!” Maria yelled. She ducked under another swing of the tail, her eyes flicking toward him for the briefest moment. “Or are you just going to stand there and watch?”
Peter snapped into action, firing a web at the ceiling and swinging toward the figure. He had been so focused on her safety he nearly forgot the plan. He landed behind the armored threat, his mind sharpening as the training kicked in. He shot a web at the tail, pinning it to the floor, but the figure tore it free almost instantly again.
Maria’s voice cut through the chaos. “Focus, Spider-Man! Watch the angles!”
Peter gritted his teeth, dodging another swipe of the tail. “I’m trying!” he shot back, though his voice carried more frustration than he intended. He glanced at Maria, her expression as sharp as ever, and then it clicked. This was what she had been preparing him for—not just the moves, but the mindset. Trust her. Trust the plan.
He fired another web, this time aiming for the figure’s legs. “Keep him busy!” he shouted.
Maria didn’t hesitate, lunging forward with a stun baton. “I’ll do my part. You do yours.”
Peter nodded, his heart pounding as he moved into position. For the first time, he wasn’t just fighting alongside her—he was trusting her. And that made all the difference.
The armored figure roared, his tail whipping out with terrifying speed. Maria ducked, but this time, he anticipated her move. In a flash, his metal-clad hand shot out, gripping her by the throat and lifting her off the ground. She choked, her hands clawing at his arm as her feet dangled helplessly.
“Spider-Man!” she managed to get out. “Don’t—don’t let him—”
Panic shot through Peter as he watched the villain tighten his grip, her face turning pale. He moved instinctively, but Maria’s sharp voice stopped him in his tracks. “Focus, Parker!” she rasped, her eyes locking onto his. “You know what to do!”
Peter hesitated, his heart pounding. He couldn’t lose her—not like this. But her glare was unwavering, even as her breath came in ragged gasps.
“Do it!” she shouted through the chaos.
The figure laughed, his grip tightening.
Peter’s fists clenched. No. Not this time. He took a deep breath, his focus sharpening. The training—the drills, the critiques—it all came flooding back. He scanned the room, his eyes darting to the cracked ceiling above. With a surge of determination, he fired a web at the ceiling and another at the figure’s armored leg, yanking him off balance. The villain stumbled, his grip on Maria loosening just enough for her to break free. She dropped to the ground, gasping for air but already scrambling to her feet.
Before the figure could recover, Peter swung into action, landing a powerful kick to his chest that sent him sprawling. The tail lashed out, but Peter dodged with a fluidity he hadn’t felt before. He fired a web at the tail, pinning it to the wall, but this time he followed it up with a barrage of webs to immobilize the rest of the suit.
Maria was already moving, scooping up the fallen stun baton. “Finish it!” she barked, despite her injuries.
Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He leaped onto the figure’s back, prying open a panel on the suit’s neck. With a decisive punch, he disabled the power core, the suit’s armor going dark as the figure collapsed in a heap.
Panting, Peter stepped back, his gaze shifting to Maria. She was bleeding, her hair disheveled, but she stood tall, her eyes gleaming with something almost like approval. “Not bad, Parker,” she said, her voice steady despite the chaos. “Not bad at all.”
---
Later that evening, after the chaos had settled and the armored assailant—Mac Gargan the self-dubbed "Scorpion"—was securely locked in a S.H.I.E.L.D. cell, Peter found himself, now in his civilian clothes, pacing nervously outside a nondescript door. Maria had called him to a “special debriefing,” her tone as unreadable as ever, but the location had thrown him off. He’d been in nearly every area of the facility by now, but this one was unfamiliar to him. The living quarters.
“Parker,” Maria’s voice came through the intercom, sharp and commanding. “Stop dawdling and get in here.”
Peter took a deep breath and pushed the door open, walking into a space that was nothing like the sterile, high-tech rooms he was used to. This was personal. A small living area greeted him, sparsely decorated but undeniably Maria’s—clean lines, neutral tones, and a faint hint of that citrus-and-steel scent he’d noticed before. A sleek couch sat in the corner, a single framed photo of the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo hung on the wall, and a bookshelf stocked with tactical manuals caught his eye.
Maria stood by the window, her arms crossed, her silhouette framed by the city lights outside. She’d changed out of her torn tactical suit into a simple black turtleneck and slacks, her hair now loose and falling in soft waves around her face.
She turned to him, her expression unreadable but less icy than usual. “Close the door,” she said.
Peter obeyed, the door clicking shut behind him. “Uh… so, what’s this about?” he asked, trying to mask his nerves with a casual tone.
Maria gestured toward the couch. “Sit.”
He hesitated but did as she said, his eyes darting around the room. She moved to stand in front of him, her piercing gaze locking onto his. “Today went… better than expected,” she began, her tone measured. “You handled yourself well. This isn’t just about training you to fight. It’s about making sure you survive. And today, you proved you might just be capable of that. But don’t think for a second this means you’re off the hook.”
Peter nodded, though he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride. “Yeah, I mean… I tried to—”
“I’m not finished,” she interrupted. Maria’s gaze hardened, her tone sharp but not unkind. “You hesitated today,” she said. “When he had me. You froze.” She moved closer, her arms still crossed, her eyes boring into his. “I saw it, Parker. You were worried about me. And while I appreciate the sentiment, in the field, hesitation gets people killed.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, and he looked down at his hands, fidgeting nervously. “I—I didn’t want you to get hurt,” he admitted.
“I can handle myself,” Maria shot back, her tone firm. “But you need to understand—your job isn’t to protect me. It’s to neutralize the threat. If you’re too busy worrying about what might happen to someone else on your team, you’re going to miss the shot that takes the enemy down. And that’s how people—innocent people—get hurt.”
He glanced up at her, his expression one of guilt and frustration. “I just… I couldn’t let something happen to you. Not after—”
“Not after what?” she interrupted. “After I’ve been pushing you too hard? After I’ve been nothing but tough on you? Parker, in this line of work, you don’t have the luxury of letting your emotions cloud your judgment. You need to be sharp. Focused. Always.”
Peter’s jaw tightened, and he nodded, though his eyes still held a flicker of defiance. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I’ll do better.”
Maria studied him for a moment, her gaze softening just a fraction. “Good,” she said, her voice quieter now. She paused, her arms uncrossing as she moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. Her posture was still commanding, but there was something off about her expression.
“There’s… something else we need to talk about,” she began, her tone measured but less rigid than usual.
Peter’s brow furrowed, and he leaned forward. “What is it?”
Maria exhaled slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands for a moment before meeting his again. “The way I’ve been treating you during training—it’s been intense. I know that. And I know it’s created a… tension between us. A tension that isn’t just about the work.”
She paused, her jaw tightening as if weighing her next words. “I’ve been hard on you, Parker. Maybe too hard. But today—seeing you out there, seeing the way you handled yourself—it made me rethink some things.”
Peter’s eyes widened, his throat suddenly dry. “Wait, are you saying…?”
“I’m saying you proved yourself,” she interrupted. “And not just as a hero. You saved my life today, and I won’t forget that.” Her gaze locked onto his, and for the first time, there was no shield of ice, no wall of detachment. Just honesty. “So maybe it’s time we address that tension. Head-on.”
Peter’s heart was pounding now. “What are you saying, Agent Hill?”
Maria leaned in, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “I’m saying I’m grateful, Parker. Grateful enough to admit that maybe… maybe I’ve been holding back the reason why I’m really so hard on you. Maybe it’s time we stop fighting whatever’s been building between us and let it out. Before it becomes a distraction we can’t afford.”
Peter’s cheeks flushed as he processed her words. “Are you serious?” he asked.
Maria didn’t answer with words. Instead, she moved over to him and reached out to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. Then, with a resolve that mirrored her every command, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
It was a brief kiss, but it sent a jolt through Peter’s entire body. When she pulled back, her eyes were searching his, as if gauging his reaction. “Consider it a thank you,” she said, her voice softer now, but still with her usual intensity.
Peter’s heart was racing, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Of course, he’d felt this way about her—how could he not? She was Maria Hill, fierce and untouchable, and he’d spent weeks under her sharp gaze, torn between frustration and attraction. But for her to feel the same? To actually act on it? That was… insane.
“Uh—” he stammered as he stared at her. “What—what is this? I mean, are you sure? Because you’re, you know… you, and I’m just—”
Maria cut him off with a look, her piercing blue eyes locking onto his. “Oh come off it, Parker,” she said, her tone steady but softer than usual. “This isn’t some grand declaration of love. It’s just… a fleeting attraction I need to get out of my system. And I'm pretty sure that goes double for you too.”
Peter blinked, his cheeks burning. “So, you’re saying… this is just, like, a… physical thing?”
“Exactly,” she replied. She reached out, her palm resting under his chin in a gesture that sent a shiver down his spine. “You’ve got potential, kid. But we’re not going to get anywhere if we’re both walking around pretending there’s nothing here. So, let’s… handle this. Once and for all.”
Peter swallowed hard. On one hand, it was Maria Hill—untouchable, intimidating, and hard as nails. On the other… she was freaking hot and was just standing there, looking at him like that, and damn if he wasn’t ready to see where this went.
“Okay,” he said, his voice steadier than he expected. “If that’s what you want… I’m in.”
Maria’s smirk deepened, and her hand slid to the back of his neck. “Good,” she murmured against his skin. “But remember—this doesn’t change anything. You’re still my responsibility. And I’m still not going to go easy on you.”
Peter couldn’t help but grin, despite the heat rising in his cheeks. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Agent Hill.”
Before he could say anything else, she kissed him again—this time longer, deeper, and with an intensity that left him breathless. For a moment, the training, the drills, the critiques all faded away, leaving only the two of them, in a moment that was as electrifying as it was unexpected.
Maria turned without a word, leading Peter through the small living area and into a more private space—a bedroom as sleek and minimalistic as the rest of her quarters. The bed sat neatly made, its black linens crisp and undisturbed.
She gestured toward it. “Sit.”
Peter hesitated, his eyes darting from the bed to her and back. “Uh… is this gonna be like training? With you… giving me orders.”
Maria raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into the faintest smirk. “Do you have the experience or confidence for it to be any different, Parker?”
His cheeks flushed, and he let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Good point.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, his hands resting awkwardly in his lap as Maria walked right up to him. She stood in front of him, her piercing gaze locking onto his, and for a moment, neither of them moved.
“Glad you understand.” She kissed him again, When she pulled back, her eyes were dark. “Now take it out, Parker,” she ordered, her tone as sharp as ever.
Peter hesitated for a split second but he obeyed, pulling down his pants with a clumsy enthusiasm. As his massive dick came into view, Maria’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, her sharp gaze flicking down and then back up to his face. Her lips parted slightly, and she exhaled softly, a faint tremor in her breath that she quickly tried to mask with her usual composure.
It’s huge, she thought, though her expression remained neutral, betraying nothing. She crossed her arms, her posture as commanding as ever.
“Well,” she said dryly, her tone nonchalant despite the way her pulse quickened. “I suppose that’s… proportional to the ego you’ve been carrying around.”
Peter’s face turned red, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Uh… thanks? I think?”
Maria chuckled. “Don’t get too proud about it, kid.” But even as she spoke, her eyes lingered for a moment longer than she intended, and she couldn’t help but feel a flicker of anticipation.
She stepped closer, her hand on his cheek. “Now, let’s see what you can do with that.”
Her voice was calm, but there was an underlying edge to it—a challenge, as always. Peter nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
Maria knelt down in front of him and Peter couldn’t help the goofy grin that spread across his face.
She shot him a look, her sharp tone cutting through the moment. “Knock that grin off your face, Parker, or I’ll leave you hanging.”
Peter’s grin faltered, and he nodded quickly, though his heart was racing. Maria’s hand wrapped around cock, and Peter’s breathing began to quicken as she began to stroke it. Her eyes were locked on him, her expression as calculating as if she were analyzing a combat maneuver.
She glanced down for a moment, her lips pressing into a thin line. “There’s no way I’m fitting this in my mouth,” she said as if stating a tactical observation. Her tone was clipped, but there was a faint tremor in her voice that she couldn’t quite mask. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, but he couldn’t look away from her. “Uh, you don’t have to—”
“I’m in charge here, Parker,” she interrupted, her gaze locking onto his. “You follow my lead. Got it?”
He nodded. “Got it.”
Maria’s pace was methodical as if she were executing a well-rehearsed plan. Peter’s breath quickened, his hands gripping the edge of the bed as he tried to keep up with her rhythm. For a woman who could silence a room with a glare, she was unsurprisingly… practiced. He bit his lip to keep from making a sound.
"Don’t get too comfortable.” Her grip tightened, and Peter’s head fell back, his mind swimming in a mix of awe and disbelief. This was Maria Hill, and she was… doing this. It was almost too much to process.
Maria’s hands moved with precision, her grip firm and her rhythm steady. Peter couldn’t help but marvel at how good she was—like she’d done this a thousand times before, and maybe she had. But even with her skill, he could feel the tension building, his body responding in ways that were almost overwhelming.
“You’re… really good at this,” he managed to say, his voice breathless and a little shaky.
Maria’s glare cut through the haze of pleasure. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Parker,” she said, her tone as brisk as ever, though there was a faint glint of amusement in her eyes. “You’re not the only one with needs.”
Peter groaned out an affirmative as she adjusted her technique, her touch somehow even more effective. He tried to let go and enjoy it, but it was getting harder—way harder. His superhuman stamina was usually a blessing, but right now, it felt like a liability. He could’ve gone for hours, but Maria seemed determined to test his limits.
After what felt like an eternity, Maria paused, her hand still wrapped around him as she let out a soft huff of irritation. “You’re not exactly an easy mark here, Parker,” she said, her voice betraying a hint of frustration. She glanced down, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Impressive stamina, though. I’ll give you that.”
Peter let out a nervous laugh, his cheeks burning. “Thanks? I mean, it’s… uh… it’s kind of part of the whole—”
“No need to explain,” she interrupted. She resumed her pace, her movements as unyielding as ever. Peter’s breathing heightened, and he clenched his fists at his sides, trying to keep himself together.
“You’re… really good at this,” he repeated.
“I know,” she said simply, her eyes locking onto his. Maria stood abruptly, her hands moving to the hem of her black turtleneck. “But this isn’t nearly enough,” she said, her tone as matter-of-fact as if she were ordering a tactical strike.
And then out of nowhere, with a swift motion, she pulled the shirt over her head to reveal a toned, athletic frame that left Peter momentarily speechless. Her skin was smooth and pale, a stark contrast to the dark sports bra that hugged her breasts. She reached behind her back to unhook it, letting it fall to the floor.
Peter’s eyes widened, his gaze flickering over her, taking in the way her muscles rippled with each movement, the faint scar on her shoulder, the confident way she carried herself—but mostly he stared at her now bare tits.
Her breasts were full and firm, the weight of them shifting as she moved, the dusky pink of her nipples hardening under his gaze. Her hands dropped to the waistband of her slacks, and she undid the button and zipper with regular efficiency, sliding them down her hips and stepping out of them. Her panties were off before he even registered they were there.
Beneath, a patch of neatly trimmed dark curls over her pussy contrasted with the smooth expanse of her pale skin, drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs. Every inch of her was a testament to years of discipline and training. And yet there was an undeniable softness to her that made his heart burn. She stood there, unashamed and commanding, as if daring him to look away. But Peter couldn’t—every detail of her was mesmerizing, and he felt both awestruck and impossibly out of his depth.
“You’re… wow,” Peter blurted out, his voice cracking slightly. “I mean, I knew you were, uh, fit, but… damn.”
Maria shot him a look “Professionalism, remember?” she said, tapping her temple. But there was a glint of amusement in her eyes, as if she enjoyed the effect she had on him.
Peter hesitated, his hands hovering awkwardly. “Should I, uh…?” he gestured vaguely at his own clothes.
“Not necessary,” Maria said, her tone clipped but not unkind. “Stay focused. This isn’t about you right now.”
Peter nodded, though his cheeks burned as she came closer. As she knelt back down, Peter couldn’t help but notice the way her body seemed to command the room—the strength in her arms, the curve of her waist, the confidence in her every move. It was intoxicating, and he felt a thrill run through him at the thought that this was real, that Maria Hill was here, with him.
With a fluid motion, she stepped onto the edge of the bed, her bare feet sinking into the mattress. For a moment, she stood there, her figure commanding the room as if she were a queen surveying her domain. Then, with a smirk that bordered on playful, she raised her foot and gave Peter a firm—yet not unkind—shove.
Peter yelped in surprise as he tumbled off the bed, landing on the floor with a soft thud. He looked up at her in confusion. “Uh, what was that for?”
Maria raised an eyebrow “Control, Parker,” she said. “You’re not the one calling the shots here, remember?.”
She settled herself on the edge of the bed, her legs dangling over the side, and leaned forward, her piercing gaze locking onto his. “Now,” she said, her tone steady but commanding, “let’s see if you can keep up from down there.”
Peter’s eyes widened as Maria’s smirk deepened, her sharp gaze locking onto his. He suspected he knew where this was going, and those suspicions were confirmed when she sat down on the edge of the bed in front of him, her legs splayed open. Her posture was as commanding as ever, her bare figure illuminated by the dim light of the room. Peter’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight—her toned thighs, the curve of her hips, and the soft, neatly trimmed patch of dark curls that drew his gaze like a magnet. Maria leaned back, her hands resting on the bed behind her, her posture as composed as ever.
Maria shifted, her bare thighs brushing against his shoulders as she leaned forward, her hand moving to tilt his chin up so he was forced to meet her gaze. “Now,” she said, “show me you’re not just here because I told you to be. Prove you’re ready for this, Parker.”
Peter didn’t need to be told twice. He moved forward, his hands settling on her thighs as he leaned in. For a moment, he focused just on her—her sharp, citrus-and-steel scent of, the way her muscles tensed and relaxed under his touch, the quiet intensity in her eyes as she watched him.
“Um… where exactly should I…?” he started, his voice cracking as he glanced up at her, seeking guidance.
Maria’s sharp gaze didn’t waver, but her tone softened just a fraction, though it was still that same authority. “Start here,” she said, her hand guiding his fingers to the soft warmth between her thighs. Her tone was calm, measured, but carried an edge of instruction. “Gentle at first. Use your fingertips—don’t overthink it.”
Peter followed her lead, his fingers lightly testing the soft, wet folds of her. Her skin was warm, smooth, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the way she seemed so composed, even now. He pressed in tentatively, his touch light and exploratory.
Maria exhaled softly though her expression remained as controlled as ever. “Good,” she murmured. “Now, circle your fingers—like this.” She guided his hand with a firm but gentle motion, demonstrating the slow, deliberate strokes she wanted.
Peter nodded as he mimicked her movements, his fingers gliding over her slick flesh. He glanced up at her, his voice shaky but earnest. “Is this… okay?”
Maria’s gaze locked onto his. “You’re getting there,” she said. But her hands suddenly gripped his shoulders, her nails digging in just enough to make him freeze. “But don’t get too comfortable, Parker. This isn’t about just doing what I say—Pay attention and try and figure out what to do by yourself."
Peter's focus sharpened as he continued. His fingers moved with more confidence now, tracing the sensitive ridges of her, circling the swollen nub that made her groan.
“Faster,” Maria commanded. Her hand tightened on his shoulder, her nails pressing into his skin just enough to make him obey. “And don’t neglect the clit..”
Peter’s fingers quickened, his touch becoming more deliberate as he zeroed in on the small, sensitive bundle of nerves. His other hand moved to her thigh, steadying himself as he worked, his eyes flicking up to hers for approval.
Maria's composure was faltering now. “Good,” she hissed. “But don’t stop. Keep going.”
Peter leaned in, his fingers moving with a rhythm that was both firm and precise, his focus entirely on her. He could feel her thighs tensing under his touch, hear the subtle increase of speed in her breath, and it only spurred him on.
Maria’s grip tightened in his hair, yanking his head back just enough to force his gaze up to hers. Her eyes burned with intensity.
She leaned in against his ear as she hissed, “You’ve got a mouth, Parker. Start using it for something other than stammering excuses for once.”
Peter’s cheeks flushed, but before he could even think of a response, her hand moved to the back of his head, applying just enough pressure to guide him forward. “Stop thinking,” she murmured. “You’ve got this. Now do it.”
Her tone brooked no argument, and Peter didn’t dare hesitate. He leaned in, his lips kissing her inner thigh, feeling the way her muscles tensed under his touch. He could hear the faint increase in her breathing, the way her grip on his hair tightened just a fraction. He let his tongue trace a path upward, tentative at first but growing bolder as he reached his destination. Maria exhaled sharply, her head tipping back, but her voice remained steady, though a faint tremor crept in.
“Better,” she said, her tone clipped but not callous. “But your tongue’s too flat. Use the tip—right there, below the clit. Focus on that spot.” Her hand held firm to his neck as she instructed him. “Like that. Now, add pressure. Don’t be afraid to push a little.”
Peter obeyed, adjusting the angle of his head as he focused on the sensitive area she’d directed him to. He pressed the tip of his tongue firmly against the spot, circling it in tight, controlled motions. He could feel her body responding— the arch of her hips as she pressed closer, her breathing quickening even further.
“Good,” Maria murmured, a hint of approval cutting through her usual sharpness. Her fingers tightened ever so slightly on his neck, her nails grazing his skin. “But don’t get lazy. Move lower—just a little. Tease it, don’t linger.”
She gasped as he followed her instruction to a tee, his tongue trailing down to the slick opening of her folds before flicking upward again, teasing the sensitive ridge in between. Peter glanced up, his eyes meeting hers for a split second, and he saw something flicker in her gaze—something that wasn’t her usual icy composure. It was fleeting, but it was there, and it sent a jolt of determination through him. He pressed his tongue harder, alternating between slow, deliberate strokes and quick, teasing flicks, his movements guided by the subtle shifts in her body.
Maria’s grip on his neck tightened further, her nails digging in just enough to make him shiver. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, her voice becoming unguarded. Her other hand tangled in his hair, a barely audible moan escaping her lips. “Right there. Keep it—ah—steady.”
Peter’s heart raced as he obeyed, his tongue moving with a rhythm that was both precise and relentless. He could feel her thighs trembling around him, hear the way her breathing grew uneven, and it only spurred him on. He focused on the spot she’d directed him to, the tip of his tongue circling it in tight, rapid motions, the pressure just enough to draw a sharp gasp from her.
Don’t—” she started, her voice cutting off with a sharp inhale. The hand in his hair moved to his shoulder as she fought to maintain her composure. “Don’t. Stop,” she managed, her words barely more than whispers now, but they carried the weight of a command.
Peter increased the pressure, his tongue moving faster now, alternating between focused strokes and broader sweeps. He could feel her body tensing, her grip on him tightening, and he knew she was close. His own pulse quickened, pride flooding him as he worked to push her over the edge.
“Faster,” she demanded. Her hips rolled against his mouth, her movements becoming less controlled and more desperate. “Harder. Don’t—ah—don’t hold back.”
Peter obeyed, his tongue moving with an unprecedented fervor. He focused entirely on her, his every movement guided by the way her body responded—the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her grip on his shoulder squeezed and then let go as she teetered on the edge.
And then, with a sharp inhale and a tremor that ran through her entire body, Maria finally let go. Her back arched, her hips pressing pussy against his mouth as she came, crying out in a way that was almost silent but no less intense. Her grip on his shoulder tightened again for a moment before she finally released him, her body sinking back onto the bed as she caught her breath.
Peter leaned back, his own breathing uneven as he looked up at her. Her face was flushed, her hair slightly disheveled, and for the first time since he’d met her, she looked… human. It was a fleeting moment, but it was enough to leave him feeling both awestruck and like he wasn’t completely out of his depth.
Maria exhaled slowly, her chest rising and falling as she regained her composure. Her sharp gaze flicked down to him, and for a moment, she just stared, her expression unreadable.
Then, with a faint smirk that bordered on playful, she reached out, her fingers scratching his jawline. “Not bad, Parker,” she said. “For a rookie.”
Peter let her lay back and recoup for a few minutes, his gaze lingering on her body in admiration. Maria’s toned frame, the faint sheen of sweat on her skin, her perfectly round perky tits—it was almost too much to take in. He couldn’t help but feel both intimidated and captivated.
Maria raised an eyebrow, her gaze steady but unreadable. “You’re staring, Parker. Got something to say, or are you just working up the nerve? We don’t have all night.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, but he managed a shaky grin. “Just… trying to figure out if you’re really as tough as you act, or if you’re just bluffing.”
Her lips twitched, one corner curling into a faint smirk. “Careful, kid. You’re treading on thin ice.” She shifted, propping herself up on her elbows, her piercing gaze locking onto his. “You think this changes anything? That because I let you in close, I’m suddenly soft?” She shook her head. “Let me remind you, Parker— I’m still the one calling the shots.”
Peter’s grin faltered. “I didn’t mean—I mean, I know you’re—”
Maria cut him off with a look, her smirk deepening as she reached out, her palm patted against his cheek. “Don’t get me wrong, I'm having a good time so far. But this?” She gestured between them, her tone steady but carrying an edge. “It’s a moment. Nothing more.”
Peter nodded, though his cheeks were still flushed.
Maria’s sharp gaze softened slightly as she studied him. “You’re still dressed, Parker,” she said. “And I’m not. Seems a little unbalanced, doesn’t it?”
Peter blinked, his cheeks burning as he glanced down at his clothes. “Uh, I mean, you said earlier that—”
“I know what I said,” she interrupted, her tone firm but not unkind. “But that was before. Now? I want to see more of you.”
Peter hesitated, his heart racing as he glanced up at her. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re—”
“Strip,” she cut him off. “Now.”
Peter’s hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt, yanking it over his head and tossing it aside. His pants followed quickly, kicked off in urgency. Standing there, bare and exposed, he couldn’t help but feel a little vulnerable, but also exhilarated.
Maria’s eyes flicked over him, her sharp gaze taking in every detail—his toned frame, the way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the undeniable proof of his eagerness hard as ever and as larger then she was prepared for.
“Better,” she said, her voice low but steady. “Now we’re on equal footing.”
Peter swallowed hard, his body responding to her gaze in ways he couldn’t control. “So, uh… what now?”
Maria leaned back, her posture as commanding as ever. “Now? What do you think?”
Maria arched her back, her ass lifting into the air as she leaned forward, her hands braced on the bed. Peter froze, caught off guard by the sudden shift in position. It wasn’t what he expected—not from someone as commanding as her. He hesitated, his hands hovering uncertainly. “Uh, are you sure you want it like this?” he asked.
Maria glanced over her shoulder at him and let out a low laugh. “You really don’t know anything about sex, do you, kid?” she mused. “Just because I’m in charge doesn’t mean I have to be on top. Sometimes… control is more about leading from ahead than pushing from behind.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, but he didn’t argue. He reached out tentatively, his hands settling on her hips, feeling the warmth of her skin under his palms. Maria shifted back to press herself against him. “Now,” she told him. “Get to work.”
Peter positioned dick and took only the briefest second to prepare to lose his virginity, but Maria’s sharp tone cut through his thoughts. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Parker.”
With a deep breath, Peter guided himself into her, the moment stretching as he felt her body yield to his. Maria was tight—impossibly tight—and the heat of her engulfed him in a way that made his head swim. Her back arched, her ass pressing into him as if demanding he go deeper, and Peter froze, his body shivering with the effort of holding still.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Peter’s hands were stable on her hips as he fought to keep his breathing steady. He was enormous, and the stretch was undeniable, but Maria wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of admitting it.
Instead, she let out a controlled exhale, and her voice was steady despite the obvious tremor beneath it. “Don’t stop now, Parker,” she insisted. “You’re not going to break me.”
Peter’s pulse was racing as he slowly eased himself deeper into her. She was so tight, and the way her walls clenched around him was almost too much to handle. He had to bite down on the groan threatening to escape his throat. Maria’s breath came in short, controlled bursts, her nails digging into the bedspread as she fought to maintain her usual poise.
“You’re… bigger than I expected,” she admitted grudgingly. “But don’t let that think you’ve got on rover me. I’ve handled worse-uh.” She had to force her self to get out the last word: “situa-oh fuck-tions.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, but he couldn’t help the flicker of pride that shot through him. His body was aching to move, but he forced himself to stay still, his hands gripping her hips as if anchoring himself.
“Are you… okay?” he asked earnestly.
Maria let out a soft huff of irritation, though her body pressed into him slightly, betraying her own impatience. “I’m fine, Parker,” she lied. “Don’t coddle me. Just…fucking shit… give me a moment.”
Peter nodded, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel her clenching around him as he pushed deeper, her body fighting back even as it adjusted. He wasn’t sure if it was pain, pleasure, or some combination of both, but he knew better than to ask again. Instead, he focused on the way she felt—her warmth, her tightness, the way her body seemed to pull him in deeper despite her words.
Maria tilted her head, her expression warmer than usual over her shoulder as she looked at him. “You’re… not what I expected,” she admitted quietly. “But don’t think for a second this means I’m—GODDDAMIT FUCK! That I’m…uh.. Not in control….”
Peter groaned and then nodded“Understood,” he managed to say. He knew his place, even now.
So he pressed forward again, the tip of him brushing against a spot that made her entire body tense for a moment. Maria’s smirk deepened, and she turned her gaze forward again, her body pressing into him ever so slightly. “Good,” she murmured with a quiet satisfaction. Her smirk only faltered to a strained grimace when she was looking away and she let out a pained cry.
He didn’t dare rush, easing himself deeper inch by inch, each movement a test of his control and her patience. Maria’s breathing grew a little uneven, her nails gripping the sheets tighter as she adjusted to him. “You’re doing—OH GOD– doing fine,” she said, her voice rough and shaky. “But you’re not all the way in. Don’t FUCKING stop.”
Peter hesitated again for a split second, then pulled back before thrusting forward, all the wary in, in one smooth yet powerful thrust. The response was immediate.
Maria’s breath catching sharply, her back arching as a low, guttural sound escaped her lips—“JESUS CHRIST SHIT! shit! shit! oh…” Her legs tensed, her nails digging into the sheets as she let out a string of curses that would’ve made a sailor blush. Her hips bucked involuntarily, her entire body convulsing as she pressed into him, her usual composure was long gone.
Peter froze, his hands tightening on her hips as he stared down at her, wide-eyed and unsure. “Uh… are you okay? Do you want to stop?”
Maria’s head snapped around, her sharp gaze locking onto his even as her body quaked. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled, and her eyes burned hot. “Don’t you dare fucking stop,” she hissed. “If you pull out now, Parker, I swear to God—OH FUCK!”
She didn’t finish the threat, but Peter didn’t need her to. He nodded quickly, his heart pounding as he pressed forward again. Maria let out another curse, this one softer but no less intense. Her hips rolled into his, her back arching as she pushed herself against him, demanding more.
“Good,” she moaned out. Her nails dug into the sheets, her body shaking as she struggled to maintain some semblance of control. “Just…keep going. Fucking don’t stop.”
Peter gulped as he obeyed. He pulled back again, then thrust forward, his movements becoming more confident as he watched her body respond to him. Her composure was gone, replaced by something raw and unfiltered, and Peter couldn’t help but feel a flicker of pride at the way she fell apart under his thrusts.
Maria had spent weeks tearing him down, dismissing him as just a kid, but now? Now she couldn’t deny the truth—he was more than she’d given him credit for. His strength, his determination, the way he’d risen to every challenge she’d thrown at him, his…wonderful giant dick… it was impossible to ignore. Maybe I was wrong, she admitted to herself, the thought somehow coherent in her shambled mind Maybe he’s not just some punk kid. Maybe he’s exactly what I needed.
Externally, though, all she could manage was a sharp, ragged curse. “FUCK PARKER!” she shrieked, her back arched into him. Her usual control was slipping. “You’re… God, you’re better than I thought. I was wrong—so wrong. Fuck, I’m sorry I treated you like shit!”
Peter froze, his hands tightening on her hips as he stared down at her, wide-eyed. “Wait, are you—?”
“Don’t stop, you IDIOT!” she snapped in desperation. Her hips bucked against him, her body demanding more. “Your cock—fuck, Parker, your cock is perfect. I’ve never—” She cut herself off with a sharp yelp, her body convulsing as she pressed into him, her usual poise shattered. “Don’t you dare stop now. I need this. I need you.”
Her words sent a jolt through him as his movements grew more confident. Maria’s breathing was completely erratic now, her body craving every inch. Her breath caught, her vision blurred, the edges of the world fading as the pressure inside her built to a crescendo.
“YOUR THE FUCKING BEST, PARRKER!” She screamed as her control shattered. Her hips bucked wildly, her back arching sharply as the first wave hit her. It wasn’t just an orgasm—it was a detonation, a precise, calculated explosion that left no part of her untouched. Her muscles clenched around him, a tactical retreat that instead pulled him deeper, and a guttural, almost primal sound tore from her throat.
Peter kept going as he watched her fall apart. This wasn’t the Maria Hill he knew—this was raw, unfiltered, and utterly intoxicating. And for the first time, he felt like he wasn’t just her responsibility. She was his.
Peter’s thrusts grew deeper, more focused, each one drawing a sharp curse or a guttural moan from Maria. Her composure was shattered, her usual clipped commands replaced by unrestrained praise.
“Fuck, how—how are you still—?” she managed to say as her body shuddered.“Shit—how are you not done yet?” she panted, her voice breaking as her body arched into his. Her hips rolled to meet his with a desperation that surprised even her.
This isn’t like her, she thought dimly, but the thought was drowned out by the overwhelming waves of pleasure crashing over her .It wasn’t just that he’d brought her there—it was that he was still going, no signs of stopping, no faltering in his rhythm. The realization hit her like a shockwave, her breath heaving.
“Fuck!” she snarled, the curse raw and unfiltered. Her body convulsed, her nails dug past the sheet and into the mattress like she was clinging to the edge of a cliff. The pleasure didn’t crest—it swept, a relentless tide that left her quivering, her usual composure scattered like debris after a missile strike.
He pressed deeper, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he matched her rhythm. Maria’s entire body was like a live wire as she rolled her hips into his, demanding more.
“Parker—HOLY FUCK, you’re—" Her words cut off as another wave hit her—this one sharper, more intense, like a grenade exploding in her core. Her body tensed, her back arching sharply as she came again, her voice breaking into a low, guttural moan.
“That’s TWO!” she shrieked. She turned her head slightly, a mischievous smirk playing on her lips despite the flush of pleasure on her face. “I think I’m going to keep track. Let’s see how high we can go.”
But even as the second wave began to ebb, she could feel the pressure building again, a steady, insistent thrum that told her this was far from over. Maria’s lips parted, a low, unsteady moan escaping her as she pressed into him, her body demanding more.
He could feel her clenching around him, her walls pulsing like aftershocks from the detonation, and it only spurred him on. Her body was relentless, each peak more explosive than the last, and Peter couldn’t help but marvel at her. “Are you—?” he started, but Maria cut him off with a sharp, guttural moan, her hips bucking wildly as another orgasm tore through her.
This one was like a missile strike—precise, devastating, and overwhelming. “Three!” she panted, thick with satisfaction, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain control. “And that one was the best yet,” she added as her sharp eyes locked onto his. “Don’t stop now, Parker. I’m not done with you yet.”
Peter grinned, his confidence surging higher, each thrust became calculated to push her further. Maria’s body responded in kind, her moans growing more desperate, more unhinged, every one of them demanding more.
The fourth one hit her like a tactical strike, obliterating any semblance of composure she had left. Her entire body convulsed, her back arching so sharply it looked almost painful, her nails tearing at the sheets as a guttural scream ripped from her throat. “FUCK—four!” she choked out, her chest heaving with every breath.
Her vision blurred, her body shuddered like it had just been hit by the Scorpion’s tail. For a moment, she thought she might actually die from the intensity of it. But even as she coughed out a lung, she managed to turn her head, her sharp gaze locking onto his. “Don’t you dare stop,” she panted. “Take me to five.”
Peter was close—so close—but he wasn’t about to let her down. Maria’s body responded in kind, her moans growing louder, more frantic, as she pushed herself against him, her every movement a demand for more. Maria’s body tensed, her every muscle taut as the pressure within her built to an unbearable peak. Her nails dug into the sheets, her knuckles white as she clung to reality.
“Parker—” she cried. “Don’t stop—don’t FUCKING stop!” Her hips bucked wildly, her entire body convulsing as she teetered on the edge of something vast and overwhelming.
Peter obeyed, his thrusts growing more urgent, more desperate, as he felt his own climax approaching. He could feel her body demanding everything he had, and he knew he couldn’t hold back much longer. “Maria,” he panted. “I’m—I’m gonna—”
“Not yet,” she snarled, her voice cutting through the haze of pleasure like a whip. “Don’t you dare—ah—not before I—”
But it was too late. Maria’s body shook violently, her back arching sharply as a guttural scream tore from her throat. “FIVE!” she cried as she came apart at the seams. Her orgasm hit her like a cluster bomb— violent and unstoppable. Her muscles clenched around him with a force that would have shattered a lesser man, her entire body pulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over her like a nuclear fire.
Peter’s control frayed as he felt his own climax surging. “Maria—I can’t—” he groaned, his voice barely audible over her cries. With a final, desperate thrust, he pulled out just in time, his body shuddering as he came with a force that defied explanation. His superhuman stamina and enhanced physiology meant his release was unlike anything he’d ever experienced— a torrent of white-hot intensity that erupted from him in thick, forceful spurts. The sheer volume was staggering, each pulse of cum seeming to go on forever as it splattered across Maria’s trembling body.
The first shot hit her lower back, warm and sticky as it coated her skin in a glistening sheen. The second landed higher, splashing across her shoulder blades and trickling down her sides. The third and fourth streaked across the backs of her thighs, the thick, creamy fluid pooling in the creases of her skin. The fifth—the most forceful of all—arced high, landing squarely between her shoulder blades, the impact making her gasp as she felt the warmth spread across her skin.
Maria’s breath came in short, ragged gasps, her body shivering as the aftershocks of her orgasms continued to ripple through her. “Jesus Christ, Parker,” she managed to choke out. Her sharp gaze flicked over her shoulder at him, her eyes wide with. “That was… unexpected.”
Peter collapsed onto the bed beside her, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. “Sorry,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing as he glanced at the mess he’d made. “I didn’t… I mean, I wasn’t expecting it to be like that.”
Maria let out a low, unsteady laugh, her body still a bit shaky. “Don’t apologize, kid,” she said, her voice softer now, though it still carried that familiar edge. “That was… impressive.” She shifted, wincing as she felt the sticky residue clinging to her skin. “Though I’m gonna need a damn shower.”
Peter’s cheeks burned, but he couldn’t help the flicker of pride that shot through him. “You’re… not mad?”
Maria’s lips curved into a faint smirk “Mad?” she repeated. “No, Parker. That was… well, let’s just say you exceeded expectations.” She sat up, wincing as she felt the sticky residue clinging to her skin, but didn’t break eye contact. “You’ve got stamina, precision, and… let’s not downplay the obvious—size. But like everything else, this is about results. And you delivered. Five fucking times.”
Peter, still catching his breath, blinked at her as if trying to process her words. His cheeks were flushed, his hair damp with sweat. “Wait, earlier… you said something,” he started. “Back there, when we were—uh—” He gestured vaguely, his face reddening. “You said I was… the best? Is that..uh..true?”
Maria hesitated, her sharp gaze softening just a fraction as she let out a slow, measured breath. “Listen, Parker,” she began, with an uncharacteristic reluctance. “What happened… it was just the heat of the moment. Don’t read too much into it.” She glanced away briefly, her lips pressing into a thin line before meeting his eyes again.
“But… to be honest you’re a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus. You took me places I didn’t even know existed, and trust me, that’s not something I say lightly.” Her admission hung in the air, a rare crack in her armor that left Peter both stunned and exhilarated.
Peter blinked, his cheeks burning as he stared at her, unsure if he’d heard her correctly. “Wait, are you serious?”
Maria’s expression hardened, her usual sharpness returning. “Don’t make me repeat it, kid,” she said. “You were… effective. More than I anticipated. I’ve never been with anyone like you. Not even close.”
Peter’s eyes widened, his heart slamming against his ribs as he struggled to process her words. ““Wait, are you serio-?”
Maria cut him off with a kiss, her lips moving on his with a ferocity that left him breathless.
“Dead serious,” she said. “You’re not just good, Parker. You’re unreal.” She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear as she added, “You think the Scorpion was tough? You just took down Maria fucking Hill. Five times. No one’s ever done that.”
Peter’s mind was spinning. “So… what does that mean? For us, I mean?”
Maria’s lips sharp gaze softened just a fraction. “It means you’ve earned your stripes, kid. But don’t think for a second I'm going to let you call me Maria any other then when your fucking the daylights out of me. I’m still the one in charge in the field.” She turned to walk off to the bathroom.
Peter's cheeks flushed but his gaze steady on hers. “Understood, Agent Hill.”
“But for the record?” She said, stopping to turn back to him. “You’re not just a kid to me anymore. And here in the bed I’m all yours.”
Peter’s face broke into a goofy grin.
Maria’s lips twitched as she leaned back, her posture as commanding as ever. “And for the love of God, don’t tell anyone,” she added. “If Fury finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Peter’s grin widened, and he couldn’t help but tease her, just a little. “Your secret’s safe with me.”
Maria shot him a look, her sharp gaze cutting through his amusement like a knife. “Good. Because if I hear even a whisper of this, you’ll regret it.” She stepped back, her posture as composed as ever, though her eyes flashed in gratitude. “Now, you better be out of her before I'm done in the shower, or I might change my mind about you.”
Peter nodded, his grin softening into a genuine smile. “Yes, ma’am,” he said.
As she turned to the bathroom once more, he couldn’t help but feel with her go and feel a sense of immense pride—and, for once, even Maria Hill couldn’t deny he earned it.