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wh0re43van · 2 months

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And they were roommates (Peter Maximoff X Reader)

Description: You and Peter are long time best friends and now roommates. Things take a weird turn when he admits that he found your sex toy drawer.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: smut, oral (fem receiving)

A/n: this is based off this request! I’m sorry if this isn’t up to your expectations, I’ve been having writers block. I’ve also been a bit inactive bc college rawdogging me without lube rn :/ (also I left this open to possibly a pt 2 with pegging Peter?? 🙊)

Peter sits on the edge of the couch clad in nothing but a pair of sweatpants, playing that mindless video game that he loves so much. His skilled fingers move in a blur across the plastic controller, the sound of the rapid clicks on the joy stick and buttons are drowned out by the blaring music coming out of the stereo. The music is so loud in fact, that the boy doesn’t hear you stumble into your shared home, dropping groceries and cursing at him as you stagger towards the table.

“Goddamnit Peter!” You groan after dropping off the bags of food, stomping into the living room as you dodge empty bottles of soda and dirty clothes on the floor. “Peter!” You gripe, now completely out of patience. But Peter is so fixed on the game and the music is so loud that he isn’t even aware of your arrival.

You let out an irritated sigh before ripping the cord to the stereo out of the wall. “Peter Maximoff!” You shout, crossing your hands over chest. He jumps a bit, startled by your sudden appearance, but soon enough his signature smirk is plastered on his stupid face.

“Hey babe! Where’ve you been?” He asks nonchalantly-choosing to ignore your obviously pissed off stature- as he shifts his attention back to the video game.

“Are you- oh my god,” you groan, completely exasperated as you pinch the bridge your nose. “I’ve been out for three hours getting shit for my party tonight. The one thing I asked you to do was clean up this mess!” You pace infront of the tv like a disappointed mother- a feeling you’ve become all too familiar with since renting an apartment with your man-child of a best friend.

“I don’t think four girls in their 20s getting wine drunk and talking shit for hours on end counts as a party,” Peter snickers before he zooms around you, now between you and the television with his nose nearly pressed to the screen in attempt to finish his game. Your blood is boiling at at this point.

“Beats locking yourself in your room and playing with your dick to those old VHS tapes you still have from high school,” you roll your eyes. “Atleast get with the times and use the internet,” you add with your lips pulled taught in an unamused line, you reach down to unplug the console. Peter of course grabs your hand before you reach the plug, his eyes still glued to the screen.

“And abandon my girls? Come on babe, don’t be ridiculous. We have history!” Peter snickers, unfazed by your attempt to humble and embarrass him.

Peter finally beats the level, sounding off the victory music. With a proud smile, he sits down the controller, finally giving you his attention. “Plus, don’t act like I don’t know about your drawer of toys. Neither one of us are getting laid,” Peter laughs casually as he walks back over to the couch, leaving you with wide eyes and blushed cheeks.

“What the fuck! H-how-Peter! Dude! What-what the actual fuck!” You look at him dumbfounded, now twice as furious and extremely embarrassed.

“Oh, so you can go through my stuff, but I can’t go through yours?” He smirks as he takes a swig of soda out of a two liter bottle, looking at you with pure amusement on his face.

“I-I don’t go through your stuff, Peter!” You shriek, looking down at your feet in attempt to escape his gaze. When you do, you notice a bright orange plastic rectangle on the ground amidst various snack cake wrappers. “Th-there’s a tape literally laying right here!” You chuck the VHS at him, he catches it, sitting it on the couch beside him.

“Alright you’ve got me,” Peter holds his hands up in defense with playful grin. “But you can’t blame me for snooping. You don’t exactly make an effort to keep quiet. Our rooms are right across from each other ya know,” he chuckles as he settles into the couch, wiping his Cheeto covered fingers on his grey sweatpants. “So yeah, maybe I was curious to see the loud ass vibrator that you abuse most nights of the week, and maybe I found a lot more than I was looking for,” Peter laughs at how red your face is. He’s clearly enjoying your utter humiliation.

You feel mortified. You can’t believe he would just reveal that he knows you about your dirty habits so casually. Had he seen everything?

‘Why would I keep everything on the same place,’ you internally facepalm as you imagine Peter digging through your underwear draw to see your Hitachi, the vibrating dildo, the strap.

‘Jesus Christ does he know I have a strap on?’ Panic begins to set it. ‘How long has he known about this?’ Your mind is racing almost as fast as your heart.

You swear you’ve never felt so embarrassed in your life. Despite the snow on the ground outside, you feel like your skin is on fire. You’re a clammy, stuttering mess that wants nothing more than to vanish into thin air, but you can’t even will yourself to move.

“Y-you can hear it?” Is all you dare to ask sheepishly, your eyes still wide in horror at the conversation that’s unfolding between you and your best friend.

“Mhm,” Peter snickers as he stands up, nonchalantly stretching and flexing all the muscles in his bare torso. You think for a moment that he might be flexing on purpose as he walks over to inspect the groceries you’ve brought home. “And I Gotta say,” Peter hums as he pops open the new box of twinkies you got for your party. “I’m really not impressed with the settings on that thing,” he says through a mouth full of yellow sponge cake.

You don’t know what to think of the situation. You wrack your brain trying to figure out what he’s playing at, but to no avail. He seems to be amused more than anything; at the very least he doesn’t think any less of you.

You sigh, walking over to the boy, prying the blue hostess box out of his hands. “T-these are for tonight, Peter,” you make a meek attempt of scolding him, but you can’t even look him in the eyes right now as you trip over your words. This only fuels Peters teasing.

“I’m serious babe,” he grins as he slowly rests his hands on either side of you. His bare biceps and chest tense as he grips onto the table, trapping you right in front of him. “I can show ya real speed if you’d let me,” his voice is low and silky smooth as he lets out a small laugh. You blink at him, not sure if you’re understanding him right.

“I-uh…well… if-I uhm-” Your voice is shaky as you stare up at him with wide eyes. At this point you’re sure that your face is as red as those cherry slushies that Peter always gets from the corner store.

“Am I making you nervous?” Peter asks as he leans ever so slightly closer to you. His sultry tone sends heat straight to your core.

“N-no,” you whimper. As if your tone didn’t give you away, you instinctively pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

“You’re such a bad liar,” he says lightly as puts a gentle hand on your face, his thumb pulls your lip out from under your teeth. “This always gives it away,” Peter hums.

You feel ridiculous at how worked up Peter has managed to get you. You chalk it up to being dick deprived and attempt to pull yourself together before you literally start drooling. But before you speak, Peters next words make your mind go blank.

“These pretty lips of yours are always getting you in trouble, huh?” Peters voice is husky as he drags you lip down with his thumb, focusing on your mouth with a lust laced gaze.

He’s right. Your entire time growing up together your nervous habit of chewing on your lip has always gotten you caught in your lies. It’s a little weird to think about all the adolescent trouble you and Peter got into as he’s standing only inches away from you; very obviously not that little boy anymore. No, Peter is definitely a man now- his mind may not have matured past 15, but his body absolutely has.

He brings his other hand to the back of your head as he steps closer to you. You can feel his warm breath fanning on your face, as your knees begin to go weak.

“Okay Peter that’s enough teasing. You got me. j-just clean up your mess so I can get ready for my party,” you say quietly as you examine his face, taking in how truly handsome your best friend is.

“Oh come on, we have time,” he smiles. That seductive tone is one you never thought you’d hear from Peter, and it’s definitely going to get you in trouble.

Peter dips his head down, his nose brushing against yours, making your breath hitch. Butterflies erupt in your stomach from the small contact. He teases his lips over yours, gently ghosting over the skin as if testing the waters.

The moment your lips touch, you’re a goner. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into an intense kiss. Peter laughs into the exchange as he grabs onto your hips.

You never thought of Peter in this way in all the years that you’ve known him. Sure, he’s an objectively attractive guy- anyone can see that- but he’s just never really been ‘your type’ and aside from casual flirting like he does with every woman he comes into contact with, he never showed any romantic interest in you- as far as you were aware at least. But right now, you’re completely desperate for your best friend.

The kiss quickly becomes anything from innocent as Peter grabs your ass, sitting you up on the table so he can stand between your legs. Your hands run through his hair, tugging on the silver stands as his grips onto your lower back, keeping you as close to him as possible.

Reality sets in as his lips trail down your neck where he stops to nip at sensitive skin. As you catch your breath you stutter, “W-what are we doing Peter? Are we really gonna risk our friendship just because neither of us have gotten laid in a while?”

While you are concerned for your platonic dynamic, you just can’t bring yourself to push him away. His warm lips on your skin and his strong grip on your body is too intoxicating.

“We aren’t risking anything, dude,” Peter smiles into the crook of your neck as his hands run up your thighs, his fingers disappearing under the hem of your short dress. “Just two friends helping eachother out. Nothing wrong with that,” he hums. You’re silent for a moment, considering his words.

Peter Steps aways from you, leaving you to whimper at the lack of contact.

“But if you don’t want this, I understand. I won’t press-“ he begins with a small grin as he continues to slowly back away. Without thinking, your hand shoots out, almost causing you to fall off the table. You grip his arm as you look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Please Peter,” is all you have to say before he’s back on you. Smashing his kiss bruised lips to yours.

Unbeknownst to you, Peter has been waiting for this moment for awhile. He wasn’t ‘totally in love with his best friend’ but you are the one person who knows him better than anything and his domestic partner and you’re smokin hot and he hears you masturbate in the room beside him a couple times a week- not to mention he hasn’t been with a woman in months. I mean, can you blame the guy?

You let out a small gasp as peters fingers brush against your clothed core. He gives you mischievous grin as he pulls you to the very edge of the table.

“Let’s get these out of the way,” he breaths as he slowly wraps his fingers around the waist band of your silk underwear. With in half a second, the thin fabric is gone- where to? You have no idea.- and Peter is on his knees below you, admiring your exposed core. “You must really be desperate. Damn,” the boy chuckles as he collects some of your wetness on his finger. You groan, kicking him in the arm gently. But you can’t argue with him.

“Ugh Peter if you’re going to-“ before you can finish whining, Peter has his arms wrapped around your thighs and mouth attached to your swollen clit, licking like his life depends on it. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intense stimulation.

“At least now I know how to shut you up,” Peter chuckles against your core. Caught up in your own pleasure, you grab his hair and grind into his face. Peter let’s out a hum of satisfaction before he slips a finger in your entrance.

“Fuck,” you groan, throwing your head back. Peter is having the time of his life, struggling not to cum in his pants from how erotic you are. I mean yeah, he knew you were hot but he never would have guessed just how sexy your moans are or how good you taste. Call him a munch, but Peter could suffocate right here between your legs and die a happy man.

“Just like that Peter. Please don’t stop,” you pant out lowly, moving your hips faster against his face. You look down to see Peter who is already staring up at you. His silver strands of hair tickle the inside of your thighs as he laps at your clit desperately. The image of your best fiends head between your legs triggers a flash of embarrassment and guilt, but that’s soon forgotten as soon as you feel it.

Peter begins to vibrate his tongue as he sucks on your clit, his fingers curling directly into your g-spot with every thrust.

“Peter!” You shriek, pulling his hair. The sensation is nothing like you’ve felt before. You quickly melt into his touch as you revel in the pure pleasure shooting through every nerve in your body.

Peter replaces his tongue with his thumb before breathlessly pulling you into a kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, your legs beginning to shake from how much pleasure is flooding you system.

“I want you to cum for me,” Peter growls against your lips. You whine into the kiss as you clench around his fingers. The tightly wound rubber band in your stomach finally snaps, releasing intense euphoria through your body. “That’s it. Good girl, fuck, just like that,” Peter coos into your ear as the unholiest string of profanities he’s ever heard falls from your kiss bruised lips. You collapse into his chest, your legs shaking, head spinning, chest heaving.

“You okay?” Peter chuckles as he rests a hand on your back. You simply nod your head, trying to catch your breath. After a minute or so of recovery, you open your mouth to speak but are quickly interrupted by a loud knocking at the door. You jump up from the table, looking at Peter in horror as your release drips down your legs.

“My friends,” you gasp. Peter chuckles as he gently stands you to your feet.

“We’re not done here,” your best friend winks before he’s gone with a fwip.

In a Silver Blur, Peter zooms around the apartment. Within five seconds, the living room is spotless, the groceries are put away, and there are four glasses of wine are poured and set at the table with an organized array of the snacks you’d bought.

“Come on in ladies, y/n is in the kitchen,” Peter answers the door, allowing your friends into your home.

“Ew, why is your face wet?” One of the girls ask Peter as they turn the corner into the kitchen.

“And where’s your shirt?” Another girl asks as they exchange confused glances with each other.

“Oh-“ Well I guess Peter forget a couple crucial pieces of evidence. He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand. “What’s with the interrogation girls?” Peter chuckles as he holds his hands up.

Your face goes red in embarrassment as you walk over to great your group of friends on shaky legs- and with a bare core since you couldn’t seem to find your panties anywhere.

“Sorry, ignore him. Peters just leaving,” You smile at your friends then give peter a death glare.

“Oh, y/n, let me know once your little party is over. We need to finish that conversation,” he winks as he picks up a snack cake off the bar. As he ascends up the steps, you see your purple panties hanging out the pocket of his grey sweatpants. You send a silent prayer to every all-powerful incorporeal being you can think of that your friends did not see Peter with your underwear.

“Y/n, are you okay? What’s with-“ one of your friends begin to question.

“Wine!?” You cut her off as you offer-more or less force her to take- a glass of Pinot Grigio which thankfully is enough to shift the conversation.

You’re left in anticipation the rest of the night, half temped kick the girls out just so you and Peter can finish what you’ve started, but you decide against it. As you go commando for the next four hours, you think about how you’re going to get peter back.

#evan peters #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #ahs cult #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs fandom #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs murder house #peter maximoff smut #warren lipka #colin zabel #kai anderson smut #tate langdon smut

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teenidlegirl · 2 months

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꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ┆ 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!civilian!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ peter and jess are suspicious of miguel’s slightly strange behavior. avoiding further questions, he goes on a night patrol but that plan changes when he stops by your apartment for a quick checkup.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ fluff, swearing, pet names, spanish terms, slightly suggestive (if ya squint), arguments, tension

꒰ previous chapter ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ⋅ ꒰ next chapter ꒱

he was acting different. well, to everyone he’s just miguel. but to his two closest colleagues, oh yeah there’s something up in that man’s big ass. peter and jess notice the slight change in his behavior. sure, his intimidating demeanor and the usual yelling at random spiderlings is still intact. but miguel is being secretive about something and that made the two spider individuals suspicious. besides monitoring the multiverse on the orange screens at his desk, miguel would have a small separate monitor off to the side and observe for long periods of time. what is he watching? or the better question is, who is he watching? they couldn’t get a glimpse of the screen but it’s definitely not multiverse-related. the two had to eventually ask him, or least attempt before he would tell them to buzz off. take a shot in the dark.

“heyyy miguel.” a familiar, annoying voice echos his office, making him wince at the sound.

“no.” he states sternly, those ruby eyes remained fixated on the orange screens.

“aw come on. you don’t even know what i was going to say.” peter swings up to his platform, standing beside the tall brooding man. mayday babbles in the baby carrier, tiny arms stretching out to miguel.

“don’t care. now, leave.” miguel doesn’t budge, hunched over his desk with fists at his sides. he knew exactly why peter visited and he did not care to elaborate. it’s a personal matter, others should respect that. but unfortunately, certain people like to be nosey sometimes. he groans internally.

peter raised his hands in the air. “hey, man. i’m just looking for my friend. it’s just—”

“i don’t need you looking out for me. just leave parker, before i do something i’ll regret.” miguel threaten, consistently opening and closing his fists as a method to maintain himself.

peter only responds with a chuckle as he watches his daughter climb on top of miguel’s shoulders before sitting down on top of his head. miguel, on the other hand, accepts his fate with a quiet sigh and allows mayday to use him as a playground. secretly, he doesn’t mind the baby at all. in fact, he adores it when she plays with him but of course he rather die than admit that. take it to the grave.

“maybe mayday can get you to talk.” peter suggests, placing his hands on his hips.

finally, miguel side-eyed the man dressed in the pink fuzzy robe with an annoyed look. before he could utter a word, another voice interrupts him.

“yeah, maybe she can.” jessica enters the room, landing on the platform, resting a hand on her swollen belly and the other on her hip.

“not you too.” the tall brooding man groans heavily, rubbing his temples with one hand. he swears, if mayday wasn’t sitting on top of his head right now, he would throw the desk at peter.

“come on, miguel. something’s going on with you, like you’re hiding something.” jess inquired.

goddamnit, now he’s really pissed off. the only source maintaining his anger, preventing him from lashing out is the adorable baby on top of his head. he really doesn’t want to discuss about this. people should just mind their own damn business.

“well, i’m not. if that’s all you need to say, then leave.” miguel argues, not looking at either of them.

“uh huh, miguel. you ain’t getting away with it this time.” jess takes a step forward, crossing her arms. “who’ve you been watching?”

his fists grew tighter at that moment, shoulders and back tense. “no one.” hint of venom laced in his tone.

luckily, and finally, mayday climbs off his head and clings onto his bulky shoulder before sipping off. thanks to his swiftly reflexes, he catches her with both hands and securely held in her in his grasp. the baby girl starts babbling, tiny arms reaching for her father. miguel carefully hands her back to peter before his hands clenched and fell down at his sides, avoiding both of their intimidating gazes as he looks back at the screens once again.

just as jessica parts her lips open to speak again, miguel beats her to it as he sends a light glare at both of his colleagues. “mind your own business.” he hissed back before opening a portal by his watch and entering it, leaving jessica and peter speechless.

“well, it could’ve gone worse.” that was peter’s attempt to lighten up the mood. he isn’t wrong though, all kudos to mayday.

jessica let out a sigh of defeat. “always stubborn.”

━━━━━━━━ ִ ۫ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ۫ ݂ ━━━━━━━━

after completing a random mission, totally not as an excuse to avoid peter and jessica, miguel quickly returns to HQ to file his report. after submitting the report, his thoughts couldn’t help but wander to you. yeah, ever since your last encounter, he’s been ‘checking’ on you making sure you’re doing fine. occasionally, he would pull up a monitor of the street where you live, your apartment visible in frame. his crimson eyes would follow your tiny figure as you walk on your way to and from work. when lyla accused him of being a stalker, miguel used the excuse of making sure you weren’t doing any stupid things that would lead to you into trouble. the last thing he wants or needs is saving your dumbass from your own stupidity again.

instead of watching the monitors, he decides partake in a patrol tonight. just as he opens a portal by his gizmo, lovely dovely lyla appears in front of him, making miguel let out a heavy groan.

“gonna spy on ms. sassy, again?” she winks at him with a teasing smile, arms crossed.

miguel shoots her a glare, the eyes of his mark frowning. “lyla, por dios. i’m not spying and it’s not even about her, i’m patrolling the area.”

she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “oh please! you’re just using that as an excuse to spy on her.”

he grunts in response. “i’m not, and remind me to fix your programming afterwards.”

the ai rolls her eyes again. “whatever, boss man. be in denial, you know i’m right.” she offers a smirk before vanishing in the air once again.

miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. this is not spying or whatever, this is a patrol around the city which is his duty as their spider-man. proceeding to his plan, he steps through the portal and ends up on the rooftop of a random building. as his crimson eyes scan the area for any suspicious activity or disturbance, they find your apartment building which happens to be a few blocks away. his eyes remain glued on the building for a hot minute, remembering the night he took you home. he still remembers the exact floor. as his eyes linger at the sight, miguel unconsciously swings towards your apartment building. realization kicks in the moment he lands on top the roof of the building directly across.

what the hell is he doing? why did he swing all the way here, to your apartment? this is supposed to be a night patrol, not a checkup. he can do that at HQ.

his mind is filled with complaining thoughts yet he doesn’t retreat and go back to his original plan of patrolling. instead, miguel remains in place and observes your apartment.

screw night patrol, supposedly.

those ruby eyes land on your balcony, no visible light from inside, as sign that you’re not home. he exhales slowly, brows furrowed. where are you? it’s only 9:30, not super late but you’re by yourself nevertheless. working late? out with friends or someone? on a date? oh lord, that thought alone made him icky.

wait — why miguel he feeling icky about you being on a possible date?

jeez there is something going on with him.

sleep deprived? possibly, maybe.

those thoughts pause the moment he sees a tiny yet familiar figure dressed in royal blue walking down the sidewalk. squinting his eyes for a better view, his assumption was right. it’s you; the one thing that has been infiltrating his mind for a week for unknown reasons. you carry a hershey bar in one hand and your phone in the other. completely forgetting the night patrol, miguel keeps a curious yet cautious eye on you as you continue your walk home.

is he seriously doing this? checking up on a random civilian? checking up on you? what hell is going on with himself? he’s never done this.

jeez — miguel is literally scaring himself by these strange, unusual acts. the question still infuriates his mind. why is he doing this?

maybe just a simple checkup, making sure you return home safely, he thought to himself.

his ruby eyes continue following your tiny figure until you reach your apartment building and enter. well, you made it home safe just like he wanted. he can now resume to his night patrol yet — miguel can’t find himself to do so. like he’s stuck in place, unable to move, glued to the ground. but it’s more so he doesn’t want to move. instead, he remains observant from above. the moment light illuminated from your apartment, his senses perk up. the sudden urge to swing to your balcony consumes him entirely. at first he seems hesitant. it seems odd, maybe creepy for him to stop by your place just to ‘checkup’ on you. miguel doesn’t be labeled as a weirdo.

god what’s going on?

why is the multiverse pulling him towards you? it hates him already, is this just torture at this point?

why the sudden interest in you? yes, you’re a clumsy person and need to be more careful. why is he so riled up about it? why does he care? yet despite all that, you just seem so alluring to him. a beautiful mystery. oh beautiful? damn miguel is in deep but isn’t wrong. you’re quite attractive so there’s no denial. whatever this is, he loathes it.

after having internal debates, miguel swings over and lands right above your balcony. he is really doing this? a frustrated sigh escapes his lips.

that one question repeats in his mind like a damn plague: why is he doing this?

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you were in the middle of making your bullet journal until you heard a light thud coming from the balcony. quickly looking up from the coffee table followed by a soft gasp, your eyes detect nothing other than the numerous futuristic buildings from the distance.

adrenaline flows through you. what the hell was that? is there something outside on your balcony? are you hearing things? how would anything reach up here? you live on the 5th floor. numerous negative possibilities ran through your mind like a marathon.

setting down your pastel yellow marker, you slowly rise up from the floor and tiptoed over to the balcony door. as the glass automatically slides open, you’re greeted with nothing. your cautious eyes scan the area, searching for anything unusual or strange. little did you know about the giant man clad in red and blue literally squatting above your balcony, watching you in amusement. the corner of his lips slightly twitch upward. how unaware you are of his presence, searching the source of disturbance. the way your head turns, searching for answers. the suspicion expression illustrated on your face. furrowed eyebrows and flat lips, taking slow quiet steps. miguel allows himself to indulge in this silly moment for a few more seconds before leaving.

after failing to find anything, you exhale slowly and head back inside. how strange, you thought. that unsettling sensation still lingers but you’re glad there wasn’t anything bad. however, you make sure to lock everything as extra precaution. as you thought you locked the balcony door, your golden doodle daisy managed to slip out. damn you clumsy for that. you walk away to the kitchen to grab a snack, fully unaware of your dog outside. as any dog does, daisy sniffs the floor while wagging her fluffy tail. that wagging sudden stops as she smells, or senses something unusual. she starts growling as she looks upwards, finding a figure hovering above.

fuck — he’s caught, by your damn dog.

“oh shit—“ he curses as carefully lands on the balcony. daisy barks aggressively at him, making miguel panic. “hey hey. stop!” he put out his hands, a dumb attempt to calm down the dog but she keeps barking. “ay chingado! ya cállate! stop barking!” he yelled in a whisper, getting more frustrated every second. god he never hated dogs so much at this very moment. he needs to get out before—

“what. the. fuck?” you blurt out, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, standing at the doorway.

goddamnit, he cursed internally. he got caught and now is getting aggressively barked by your annoying dog. just fucking great. “listen i—“

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you hissed, walking towards him before crouching down to grab daisy and carry her in your arms. you calm her down with gentle shushes and petting her head. once she did, you look back at spider-man with a glare, unlike the soft and loving look you gave daisy just a few seconds ago. “why the hell are you here?”

miguel struggles to find an excuse because he’s too fixated on your outfit. a white nightgown with white fuzzy slippers. a sudden burst of heat rose up to his cheeks and ears. with the moonlight shining, you glow underneath it. his ruby eyes trace your facial features down to your collarbone then to your—

what the fuck?

snap out of it, o’hara.

miguel snaps out of trance, dismissing those weird thoughts. “i was on night patrol until your dog started aggressively barking at me.” he points at daisy with his index finger.

you aggressively swat away his hand. “don’t point you filthy finger at my dog.” you threaten, holding daisy closer to your chest, feeling her fluffy fur against your skin. “she has every reason to bark at you since you’re an intruder.”

his eyes widen in utter disbelief, offended by your rude comment. quite comical how it looks on his mask. “filthy? my finger isn’t—“ he lets out a groan. “i’m not an intruder, i’m on patrol.”

“patrolling from above my balcony? more like stalking.” you argued, arching a brow.

miguel stares at you in utter disbelief. “stalking? i’m not stalking you! i just happened to land on your apartment building while on patrol.”

what a damn lie.

well… sorta.

you scoff, rolling your eyes. “bullshit. you’ve been stalking me. creepy ass hero.” you avert from his gaze, looking back at daisy while petting her gently.

the tall hero remains speechless at your shocking words. a creepy hero? well that just slaps him in face. miguel isn’t trying to be a creepy, just keeping a cautious eye on you from potential danger because it’s part of his duty as spider-man.

“i’m not so get your head outta the gutter, mamona.” miguel argued, frowning at you.

you look back at with a surprise expression before turning into a smug one. “just admit you’re obsessed with me. i’m quite flattered the infamous spider-man has a thing for me.” a teasing smirk graces your lips.

his eyes widen drastically in shock. “i’m not—“ he heavily sighs out of disbelief, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand. “chingado contigo.” miguel muttered to himself, not meant for you to hear but you did, much to his dismay.

your eyes perk up, brows raised in astonishment. “órale, spidey. if you wanted to, you could’ve just asked.” that teasing smirk grew more smug with wiggling brows, a hint of seductiveness in your tone.

he snaps back at you, visibly dumbfounded by your wild response. “what?! no! stop it.” miguel threatens as he points a finger at you but obviously fails as he watches you giggle, making him groan.

god — why do you have to be so unhinged? so ridiculous with sneaky ass remarks.

he hates it a lot.

or does he?

“i’m just kidding. i would never be with a guy who’s a complete stalker.” a giggle slips through your lips as you turn around and walk back inside, concealing that smirk on your face. you can feel his glaring eyes on you, making your smirk grow wider.

miguel just stands there, all flustered up and blood boiled in embarrassment like a shy schoolboy. god he needs to leave, he really needs to leave but some magnetic force keeps him there with you.

since you didn’t hear footsteps following you, you turn around to find him still standing in the same spot. “are you coming or what?”

he looks back at you confusingly. “what?”

you roll your eyes. “oh come on, i won’t bite.” you gesture with your free hand for him to follow.

miguel just stares at you for a moment, feeling hesitant. you’re inviting him to your place. what the hell is happening? first, he saves you twice, get into several arguments like it’s normal and now you’re inviting him into your apartment.

a sad sigh escapes your lips when he doesn’t respond or budge. “fine, stand out here like a dumbass for all i care.” and with that, you leave him outside on your balcony as you head inside.

standing there speechless, miguel decides to listen for once, against his mind screaming at him to leave. slowly entering your home, he takes it all in. if there’s one word to describe it, minimalistic. however, there is a sense of coziness and comfort in your home. the interior just literally screams you, but in a positive way. for once in his life, perhaps in a very long time, miguel feels tranquil. an uncommon feeling for him.

“do you want anything? water, cafecito, tea?” your voice makes him snap out of trance. you enter the kitchen, approach the counter where the coffee maker is and pour coffee into a transparent mug.

“i uh… cafecito would be fine… if you don’t mind.” he answered awkwardly, his eyes following you.

you hummed happily as you grabbed another mug from the cabinet. “anything specific or…?” you ask while pouring the warm liquid into the mug.

he shakes his head. “no. it’s fine how it is, gracias…”

after making his coffee, you turn around and slide it across the kitchen island for him to take. as you look up at him while sipping your coffee, you find him still standing in the middle of your living room.

you raise a brow at him, visibly confused by his odd behavior. “stop acting like a weirdo and grab your damn coffee.” you gesture at the mug.

miguel scoffs heavily in response, walking towards the counter and grabbing the transparent mug. part of his mask disintegrates, revealing those plump lips up to his nose. he brings the mug towards his mouth and takes a sip. a low hum of approval escapes him, content with the delicious taste.

you observe him curiously, eyes landing on his lips. probably the closest you’ll ever to see his face. ever since your last encounter, you’ve always wondered who’s underneath that mask. desperately want to know the face that belongs to that attractive voice.

yeah, his voice is attractive as fuck.

“what?” his voice makes you snap out of thoughts, catching you staring at him.

“will i ever get the chance to see your face?” you blurt out, confessing wholeheartedly. you lean against the counter, holding your mug in one hand while your chin rests in the palm of the other.

miguel nearly spits out his coffee, staring down at you with wide eyes. “no.”

“aw come on, spidey. we’ve hung out together three times already. we’re practically friends at this point. i think i’ve earn the right.” you pout before flashing him a tiny smirk, an attempt to convince him.

his expression falls flat. “we’re not friends and you have not earned the right. don’t get any ideas.”

you snort before taking a sip of your coffee. “jeez. you can never take a chill pill, can you, spidey?” you can tell he rolled his eyes, making you giggle.

“you’re annoying.”

“you’re stubborn.”

he frowns at you. “i’m not.”

“you’re proving my point.” you smirk.

miguel resist the urge to roll his eyes for the millionth time. instead, he takes a deep breath to maintain himself form lashing out. without answering back, he sips on his coffee. at least the coffee was the only good thing coming from this situation.

“so how many more spider-people are out there?” you change topics, taking another sip.

“a lot.” is all he answered, so flatly.

you sigh sadly, slightly shaking your head. you choose to move on. “i take it you’re the leader.”

he nods while drinking his coffee.

“figured. the bossy attitude and stubbornness makes sense.” you take another sip, hiding your smirk.

he frowns at that, eyes narrower. “what’s that supposed to mean?” miguel seems offended.

you snort. “god you’re the most stubborn man i’ve ever met. i feel bad for the other spider-people, having to deal with your stubborn and bossy ass.”

miguel heavily glares at you, trying his hardest to not crush the mug in his hand. dear lord you’re really annoying, rudely annoying specifically. “and you’re the most annoying woman i’ve ever met.”

you scoff. “you ain’t the first one to say that.” you mumble while drinking coffee, averting his gaze.

he stares at you, analyzing your expression and change of tone. for a split second, he actually feels a bit of guilt for saying such a thing. yeah, you can be little annoying but it’s mostly sass.

just as his lips part open to speak, a beep comes from his gizmo. both of you glance at the watch in unison. you watch the eyes of his mask narrow at whatever the message says, making you wonder what it is but you don’t question it.

chugging down the last bits of coffee, miguel sets down the mug on the counter and walks away heading for the balcony. the mouth portion of his mask is covered, now fully masked.

“ahem.” you fake coughed, finishing your coffee before setting it aside and following him. “you’re gonna leave without saying goodbye?” you crossed your arms, standing in your iconic sassy posture.

he turns back to you, shooting a glare before letting out a sigh. “goodnight.” as the door slides open, miguel walks towards the edge of the balcony.

you followed but stop by the doorway, leaning against it. “later, stalker.”

he groans internally at the stupid nickname. god he hates you. well, hates the nickname. without looking back, miguel jumps off and swings away.

your eyes follow the shades of red and blue as it moves across the city. once he was no longer in your sight, you walk back inside.

did you just have coffee with spider-man?

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ˖ ࣪ ༘ @loser-alert @keepitreal001 @iamperson12280 @nostalgicdaira @flordelalunas @oharasfilipinawife @cho-coquette @lavenderslemonade @palesatan @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @lilscast @beanieboy23 @dorck26 @kakabskbskdnd @4crew @deputy-videogamer

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓜𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝓜𝐄 𝓗𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐖𝐀𝐘 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #fanfic series

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sacharinee · 11 months

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hey! so i’ve noticed all your office references and it’s one of my favourite shows ever <3 i was wondering if you’d write something where the reader and bf!peter are both obsessed with the show and quote it at any given moment, confusing (and probably annoying) everyone around them. i love your fics by the way!!

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader

w/c: 800 ish

a/n: dinnertime with the avengers edition! peter and reader being an annoying power duo. a crap ton of office references obviously. this is so weird and all over the place BUT it was so much fun writing. i tweaked ur request a teeny bit to them simply saying lines from the show, but everyone is just as confused and annoyed lmao i hope ur okay w that!! this is also my first time writing with the avengers so i tried my best on getting them right. thank u so much for requesting this!! i had an entire office marathon playing in the background while writing this

“the food looks great, nat,” you take your seat at the dining table.

“yea, it’s amazing, thanks for cooking tonight,” peter chimes in.

you both are sat at the dinner table in the lavish dining room among the earth’s mightiest heroes, who also happen to be your colleagues.

“wait, where did you learn to make all of this? i never pegged you as a cook,” tony questions.

“i’m not,” the redhead answers, “my fake mother used to make this dish all the time when i was younger,”

“awe, that’s adorable,” thor replies.

“right before she and my fake father sold me and had me brainwashed.”

the others freeze midchew and stare as scott drops his fork against his plate.

nat clears her throat, “so anyways, enjoy,” and takes her seat.

the rest of you begin placing heaps of food onto each other’s plates and digging into the meal in front of you.

“well, um,” tony sips his water, “how ‘bout you kids, get any good action tonight?”

peter raises his eyebrows at him, “us? oh yea, we got a good chase during patrol tonight,”

“it was super fun,” you add.

“well what’d he have on him?” wanda asks.

“he was, uhh,” you purse your lips as you hesitate, playing with the food on your plate and quieted your voice, “a-uh, a wanted animal rapist.”

wanda shakes her head at you in repulsion, regretting having asked you.

“that is so disgusting!” the god announces, food spilling out of his mouth.

“thor, close your mouth, you look like a trout.” steve reprimands.

he dismisses his comment and goes to steal the mashed potatoes, eating straight out of the bowl with no shame.

“did he put up a good fight against you guys?” bucky questions.

“well he wasn’t exactly intimidated by me, i usually let y/n play bad cop while i just web them up,” peter admits.

you’re chewing your food while you watch bucky and your boyfriend converse, “see what i told you? you gotta take control, pete. ask yourself this: would you rather be feared or loved by your enemies?”

“easy,” he answers, “both. i want people to be afraid of how much they love me.”

nat pokes her tongue to her cheek and tilts her head in confusion.

“oh, that reminds me,” you nervously chuckle and pull out the slip tucked into your back pocket, “i need you to pay for my speeding ticket, tony.”

“again?! y/n that’s the second time this month!”

“that criminal guy was a surprisingly fast driver. besides, life is short. drive fast and leave a sexy corpse. it’s one of my mottos.”

“goddamnit, y/n” tony mutters and shakes his head in disappointment.

steve interrupts, “you should listen to him, young lady. seriously, what would happen if you were in a speeding car crash? why do you think those laws are enforced? it’s to keep everyone safe. so you better straighten up the attitude before you get yourself k-”

“cap, you ignorant slut.” you’re tired of everyone treating you and peter like little kids, “you want to talk about being safe? are we forgetting about banner’s little experiment that went wrong the other day? he almost blew up the tower!-”

“wait, what did you just call me?” the soldier looks at you dumbfounded.

“what did i- … what’d i say?”

“you just called me a-”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about. i talk a lot so i learn to just tune myself out.”

“you and me both,” strange clips.

“wow,” you respond, feigning hurt, “sorry i annoyed you with my friendship.”

tony, having enough, intrudes, “you know, i think i have to put you and peter through some training again.”

the boy skeptically squints towards the man and chews his food slowly, “...what type of training?”

“sensitivity training. all this trash talk is-”

“oh my god, not again,” your head falls back as you groan, “i’ve changed, tony. i’ve learned to keep my unmannerly thoughts to myself every time i see someone wearing white socks and dark shoes.”

“uh that’s definitely not true,” bucky cuts in, “just yesterday you called me out for wearing sandals.”

“exactly! sandals! who the hell still wears sandals, you look like you just got off the boat. i don't need to see your hairy toes,” you shudder in disgust.

“yea, mr. stark,” peter reverts his attention back to tony, “we don’t talk trash,” he shrugs.

“we talk smack,” you finish.

“okay… and how are those two any different,” the man challenges.

“well,” peter clears his throat, “trash talk is hypothetical. like, ‘your mom is so fat she can eat the internet.’”

“totally,” you eagerly nod your head in agreement, “but smack talk is happening, like, right now. like, ‘you’re ugly and i know it for a fact ’cause i got the evidence right there,” your hand motions in a circle to the person in front of you.

“are you calling me ugly?” thor sniffles.

“i don’t know what the hell you just said, and i don’t even wanna know,” tony wipes his mouth with a napkin, “but it’s happening. nine am sharp, do not be late. it’ll be quick and easy, not that hard. you’ll be in and out without the attitude.”

you pout as you and peter give each other a dismay look.

“that’s what she said.”

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marvel-lous-guy · 2 years

Text

Peter: This is the worst birthday ever!

Harley: *Is it because you broke my nose when I yelled surprise at your surprise party?

Peter: Yes it's because I punched you in the face- NO IT'S BECAUSE I WANTED A CHOCOLATE CAKE AND YOU GOT ME VANILLA!

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diagonal-queen · 1 year

Note

HELLO LOVELY! I saw your tank top thingy and am now inclined to request this. Could you do a fem. s/o that wears nightgowns to bed for dazai, ranpo, and fyodor? bonus points if you add your favorite characters :)

Now im not talking about those skimpy, lacy, lingerie ones. nono, im talking about the long vintage ones. kinda like in peter pan, what wendy was wearing, but white. think cottage-core vibes.

https://www.etsy.com/listing/955248247/vintage-white-women-long-nightgown-lace

you don't have to do this if you dont want to! but just remember, have fun! and stay hydrated! ❤️

GOOD DAY!! This is a very interesting req anon! I quite like it! I’d be lying if I said I never wanted one of these nightgowns that you’re referring to lmao. They’re just so graceful and pretty 💖💖 also you're very sweet thank you!

Reader who sleeps in a nightgown

♡ pairing: Dazai Osamu, Ranpo Edogawa, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Mykola Hohol, Edgar Allan Poe x fem!Reader

♡ synopsis: How do these boys react to a reader who wears a nightgown to sleep?

♡ cw: A couple of naughty words, suggestive behaviour (goddamnit Dazai and Fyodor specifically)

note: You said I could add faves so I threw Mykola and Poe in there for the funsies (was gonna put Oda too but I could not think of anything for this poor guy I'm sorry) 🌸 Apologies for errors, hope you enjoy :)

Dazai:

At first he probably teases you and says you look like a curtain or a ghost or something T-T

But he's not a complete jerk. He does think you look like an angel and he tells you as much eventually (I feel like he would lowkey be into old-fashioned romantic stuff sometimes especially if it involves you wearing a pretty nightgown <3)

Constantly quizzing you on how you're able to comfortably wear something like this to sleep because to him it looks kind of uncomfortable? When you try to tell him that it's fine and you think it looks pretty he drops the subject but lowkey still worries about it

Plays with your sleeves or the skirt of the nightgown while he's lying next to you

From then on if you guys ever watch old fashioned movies ft. women who wear similar nightgowns, he always points it out. He's like 'That's like the one you have! You look better in it though'

He's a charmer for sure this guy

Though he does think you look lovely, he is still a bit of a pervert. It's rather possible Dazai might try to feel you up through the nightgown. Damnit Dazai

Ranpo:

Ranpo is honestly probably a little confused at first. Like this is the 21st century, why are you wearing this?

THAT BEING SAID he is actually rather happy to sleep with you while you're wearing an old-fashioned nightgown. It's like being wrapped in your own little silky blanket!

He fiddles with it when he's bored and rubs his face against it just because he's kinda weird like that (lovingly)

Probably asks Yosano/Fukuzawa about it because let's be real, as smart as Ranpo is he doesn't understand why you would wanna cover yourself in so much fabric when you go to sleep (autistic things 2.0 <3)

Otherwise he does think you look very elegant. He also thinks it's cute that you care so much about always looking nice even if you're just hanging out in bed with him

But at the same time he's like 'Well how are you supposed to eat snacks in bed if you're wearing something that isn't supposed to get dirty??/??????????'

Actually does make an effort to not get any crumbs on you though because he knows that you care about your nightgowns <3

Fyodor:

He already thinks of you as an angel- so why not look like one too?

Fyodor is relatively old fashioned (at least in my head), so he's happy with what you've chosen to wear. It's mature and modest, but it's also so ~pretty~ that he can't keep his hands off you

Somewhere in his fucked up little brain spouts a twinge of possessiveness because you're just so enchanting and you look so innocent! Why should anyone else get to see you in your undergarments (even though it's basically a dress)? They shouldn't, end of story

Tbh he probably gets turned on if he thinks about it too long -_-

Fyodor sometimes likes to fondly watch you while you're sleeping, so the nightgown really adds cuteness points for him

He's always praising you for looking beautiful even in your sleep- probably compares you to Sleeping Beauty because he's messed up like that <3

He always holds you gently while you two sleep and presses soft kisses to your neck because that's like the only part of you he can access lol

Overall he acts very calm but is lowkey just a little TOO into it

Mykola:

Mykola is so dramatic about it. He's like 'MY EYES HAVE BEEN BLESSED BY AN ETHEREAL BEAUTY FROM THE HEAVENS' or something else dumb like that

But the thing is, he actually means that. He's just very theatre kid-esque in his delivery which makes it seem like a mockery lol

He just thinks you look so cute! He spins you in his arms and pinches your cheeks

Asks you to give him a couple twirls in the same way that your mother does when you're trying on a new outfit

I believe that 'yangoliatka' is a term of endearment in Ukrainian that means 'angel'? If so then he would ABSOLUTELY call you that (I'm so sorry if that's wrong- I don't speak Ukrainian T-T)

Picks you up bridal style 'to practice' because you kinda do look vaguely like a bride. When you get shy he just laughs (menace behaviour)

You know those noir films with those really drawn out but trying-to-be-romantic sex scenes (where the girl inevitably wears one of those fancy nightgowns?) Yeah he'd try to recreate one of those because he thinks it's funny

Poe:

Yeah uh. He was absolutely the one who bought it for you in the first place.

He's just an old-school romantic boy and thought you would look beautiful in a nightgown! (spoiler: he was right)

Poe thinks you are ethereal, gorgeous, stunning, exquisite, graceful, elegant, ravishing, all of the above

In short he's totally enamoured with you and lets you know how beautiful you look even though you are wearing pyjamas

He's a gentleman and asks if you're alright with him cuddling you in case he creases it or something (plus he's also very much content to just sit beside you and admire you)

His heart is beating so fast as he pulls you into his arms because in his head is probably some insane paranoia about how perfect you are and how unworthy he is or something

He probably starts spilling all this poetic prose about how you outshine all of the beautiful women in history (y'know like Aphrodite, Cleopatra, Helen, and also Annabel and Lenore duhh)

He will be buying you more of these in different colours and styles for sure

Before anyone comes at me- yes I am doing the asks out of order. Sometimes ideas come to me much faster for one prompt than they do for the other, but I promise I am doing my best to complete all of them. Also imagine being Poe’s sugar baby awhhh maybe I should write it

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