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periprose · 11 months

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Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms.

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you.

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says.

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him.

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask.

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one.

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity.

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs.

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday.

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

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spider-stark · 19 days

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INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.

Or, at least, none that mattered.

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.

And Peter never even asked why.

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”

And how true that must have been.

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!

“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.

“Did he?”

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.

“Well did he have anything useful?”

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.

“Mj happened.”

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”

“Yep. That’s the one.”

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.

You sucked in a breath.

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”

His brow snapped up. “What changed?”

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”

“I’m not pretending-”

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

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mydearesthrry · 9 months

Text

sweet nothing - h.s.

a/n: TOTALLY LOST THE PLOT WHILE WRITING THIS. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BASED OFF OF THE PICTURE BELOW BUT I GOT DISTRACTED. pls listen to sweet nothing by taylor swift for the full experience!!!

🎀 warnings/cw: none, most tooth rotting fluff ever.

🐇 pairing: fem!reader x harry styles

💐 wc: 1.6k

summary: taking care of a very sleepy harry in an ice bath, and in the car.

“H, the bath is ready, bub.” Harry heard his girlfriend call quietly to him. He was slumped on the couch, this show particularly draining. He was quieter than usual, and instead of being glued to Y/N’s side like he usually was, he let one kiss to her full lips suffice before he decided to rest.

“Mm, thank you, lovie. I’ll… I’ll be there in a second, jus’ don’t have the energy to go there right now.” His limbs were sore, almost every part of his body completely lost of energy, and he found it hard to even entertain the thought of getting up.

“Okay… y’know what, just let me help you, H. The faster we get you into this bath, the faster we can go back to the hotel so you can sleep.” He knew she was right, and because he knew she was right, he allowed her to help (though not really at all since he already had felt bad that she ran the ice bath for him) him get to the bathroom. They walked slowly to the connected bathroom, Harry walking zombie-like in her arms.

“Ready, sweet boy?” She tried to be as quiet as possible, the fact that Harry probably had a headache in the front of her mind. He nodded softly, stripping down to his boxers before letting her help him balance as he stepped into the bath.

A wince immediately left him, Y/N whispering out ‘I’m sorry’s, knowing how shocking the bath was at first. She lowered herself with him, and sat on the floor next to the bucket when he sat down, submersing himself fully.

“Okay bubs, y’know we’ve gotta do this so you don’t fall asleep on me. You ready?” Y/N says, pulling out her phone to pull up the trivia questions she’d pre written for the late night ice bath trivia that had become a tradition for them. Harry hums, and she flips to her notes to start.

“Pick the category, my love. We’ve got pop culture, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.” She asked, looking up at him, heart breaking a little at the exhausted expression that was obvious on his face.

“Marvel.” He mumbles, sinking himself lower until his neck up was the only part of his body above water.

“Okay… Timer officially starts now. Who played the character Pietro Maximoff, also known as Quicksilver?” Her tone was soft, almost at a whisper.

“Umm… Aaron Taylor Johnson?” Harry questioned, racking his brain to try his hardest to stay awake. His body had now gotten used to the stark cold that he’d slowly started to get used to over the times he’s done this on tour.

“Good job, baby. What was the name of Peter Parker’s love interest in Spider-Man: Homecoming? This one should be easy, it’s one of my favorite movies.” She giggled, a serene sense of peace overcoming her at the domesticity of it all.

“It is easy, she’s called Liz, right? Liz Allan, or something.” His eyes were now closed, feeling the tension in his body slowly disintegrate from the cold of the water.

“Perfect! Though the both of us know that Peter and MJ were the better couple, they were entirely more in love and cuter.” She smiled.

“Oh, really? Like us then, hm?” Harry hummed.

“Yes, H, exactly like us.” A few more questions had passed, and Lloyd had now come to join them in the bathroom, his camera hung around his neck. They’d anticipated him coming anyway, knowing that he would come to snap some behind the scenes pictures. Before they’d even left to go to his dressing room, they’d told Lloyd when to come in so that he could come talk to them.

“Hey guys, sorry for intruding, but I need one of you to pick a few pictures for tonight so I can get them edited by tomorrow.” Lloyd tried to keep his voice quiet too, knowing the kind of atmosphere he was entering before he even came to meet the two in the bathroom.

“Oh yeah, of course, did you want some pictures too?” Harry smiled, a tired but polite look on his face. Harry had built a great relationship with Lloyd over the months that they’ve been on tour, and they’d gotten more comfortable with each other than they’d anticipated.

“Only if you’re comfortable, H.” Lloyd smiled. Y/N and Lloyd talked for a second, scrolling through pictures and picking out a few for him to edit. The time they took allowed Harry to rest in the cold for a little, before pushing himself up and folding over, dipping his head into the ice cold water. He could faintly hear Lloyd’s footsteps move to the front of the tub, along with the flicking of the camera shutter going off as he lifted his head out of the tub, ringing out his hair from the nape of his neck to the front of his scalp.

A couple more flutters from the camera shutters were heard when Harry was rubbing his eyes with the pruny tips of his fingers, and he failed to see the smile on Lloyd’s face.

Lloyd pulled the camera from his eyes, looking at the digital screen that held a preview of the picture. In the corner, slightly blurred because of the harsh focus that was set on Harry in the center, say Y/N with a soft smile playing on her lips, a moony gaze in her eyes. He made a mental note to send it to them later, and to also crop her out in the final edit in an attempt to salvage their private relationship.

“Perfect. I’ll let you two rest now, think I’m gonna head to the hotel now myself. Sleep well, you guys, I’ll send you the pictures in the morning.” Lloyd smiles at them, sharing goodnights before closing the door behind him as he walked out.

Harry’s now damp hair was combed back by his fingers and rested on the top of his head, save for the rogue curl that shriveled in a tiny curl on his forehead. Y/N rested her arms on the side of the tub, a gleam in her eyes as she watched Harry’s relaxed expression. Her timer, however, had different plans for the relaxed couple, and went off with shrill screams, notifying them that it was now time for Harry to leave the bath.

“Alright sweet boy, time to go.” She tapped on her screen to stop the ringing, standing up to grab his black and white striped towel. She met him in the middle, her boyfriend already standing on the towel that laid outside of the tub, water droplets falling from his body in a soft cascade, small shivers shaking his shoulders slightly. Wrapping the towel around his shoulders, she pushes herself up onto her tiptoes to meet the level of his face, pecking soft kisses onto his cold lips. They stayed in that position for a bit, waiting for Harry’s skin to absorb the rest of the small water droplets.

She led him with a soft tug to the main space in the dressing room, taking the outfit she’d gotten ready for him while he was on stage from the makeup chair and placed it onto the couch. Leaning down a bit, she took the towel to let him remove his now soaked briefs, before passing him a pair of boxers, tossing his towel onto the back of the couch. She passed him his clothes as he dressed himself slowly, humming at the words of love and admiration he sleepily spewed out. Once he got his last article of clothing on, she took his hoodie strings into her hands and tugged it down softly, making him lean down a bit to meet her lips.

Their lips connected in a soft caress, his bottom lip wedges in between her two lips, a sweet hum emitting from his throat from the taste of her coconut flavored chapstick, one that was his favorite. Something that could only be described as love seemed to fill the room whenever they had these kinds of moments. Moments that was completely and purely their own.

They broke away from the kiss, and when Harry went to say something, a yawn cut him off, mouth opening wide making him resemble something of a lion, making a giggle fall from her slightly swollen lips. “Let’s get you into a bed, sleepy boy.”

“M’kay.” Harry didn’t put up a fight, wanting to get into bed with her to snuggle more than anything.

They walked through the halls of the venue, pushing through the back door where their driver was already waiting for them, engine started and purring softly. Y/N opens the back car door, stepping in and moving to the side since she knew Harry would follow her. The driver muttered that it would take them about 5 to 10 minutes to get to the hotel before taking off without another word.

Y/N snapped her seatbelt on, a confused twinge on her face when she didn’t see Harry do the same. Instead, he scooted over to the middle seat, laying into her sleepily. “H, you gotta put on your seatbelt.”

“Noooo, s’not even that far, and I jus’ wan’ y’to hold me right now.” He mumbled, slightly muffled from the way he burrowed his face into her neck. She sighed in slight exasperation, saying nothing and just letting him completely collapse and rest into her. He was almost laying completely in her lap, her hand in his hair, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looked out the window and into the city.

She let out a tiny giggle when she felt the slight tickle of stubble on her neck, followed by sweet kisses on the expanse of it. “I love you, love y’so much, it hurts.”

“I love you, H.” She intertwined their fingers together, bringing up his hand to her mouth and pressing featherlight kisses onto his knuckles.

“I love you,” Harry whined, making the smallest of smiles cover her face since knew how clingy and lovey Harry got when he was tired. She tried to relish in these moments as much as possible.

“I love you, sweet boy, the Peter Parker to my Michelle Jones.” A sweet giggle sounded from Harry as he remembered the conversation from earlier.

“Entirely in love and cute. I agree.”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry <3 #harry edward styles #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles x fem!reader

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kissitbttr · 4 months

Note

i absolutely love u and ur work sm 😖 miggy being drunk but loyal 🥲 like reader is going to take him home after a night out and he’s like “back off i’m taken” or something along those lines ☹️☹️

omg he so would!! i’ll use this one for the married miguel i have going on!

it’s good to finally see miguel letting loose for once. her poor baby had been dwelling on work and stress that her heart couldn’t take it anymore. she could see it’s starting to get to him, but miguel being miguel, he always puts on the unbothered facade. unluckily for him, she could see right through her husband

so she proposed that him and the rest of the team to have a night out, miles and gwen are excluded.

miguel despises clubs, they’re pointless and reckless. music’s good. not worth the crowd though.

but since peter, jess, and her teamed up against him, he had no saying in that.

“you need to lay off my man a little, jess. poor baby has been working too hard” she points out, sipping on her lychee martini,

jess cocks an eyebrow. “i tried to! he’s the one who didn’t want to”

“you know how he is, y/n” peter chimes, “he won’t listen to any of us except you”

“yeah” she smiles, staring down at her ring finger. “sounds like him”

“where is he by the way? i need to get home soon. MJ would kick my ass if i’m even 5 minutes late” peter sighs, pulling out his wallet to put some bills,

she stops him with a hand gesture. “don’t. it’s on me.”

“girl, you sure?” jess asks,

“i make as much money as my husband. of course, i’m sure” she laughs, finishing her drink. “you two get home. me and miggy are going home too anyway”

jess fakes a gag. “i still have to get used to you calling him that. gross”

she laughs again, three of them standing up from the table before giving each other a hug, thanking them for coming.

soon as they left, she gathers her things before walking towards the bar where her husband is at. she smiles upon seeing his large back facing her, hunching slightly as he finished up the last drink of his.

it’s so easy to spot him,

“alright big boy, it’s close to one. let’s call it a night, yeah?” she appears by his side, hand on his shoulder,

to her surprise, he shrugs it off making her frown. avoiding her gaze before scooting away,

“miguel wha—“

“back off, i’ve got a wife. and i would appreciate it if you leave”

her heart soars,

the frown turns into a pleased expression, she crosses her arms with a playful smile. “oh really? she pretty?”

“gorgeous” he corrects her. “and the best damn thing i’ve ever had so please” his hand shoo her away. “i’m a man. i don’t cheat”

the heat blossoms in her chest when he does so. a frown forms on his handsome face, showing her that he isn’t playing around,

oh he’s drunk, drunk

“okay well, i happen to know your wife, actually. and i am very sorry but i mean no disrespect, I didn’t know you’re married” she plays along, watching him him but a stoic expression remains on his face,

“want me to get her?”

his face lights up at that, turning around to face her before nodding with a smile,

“yes please! that would be great. i miss her”

she awes at that, who knew her husband could be such a huge softie?

“okay, be right back” she responds before walking away only to reappear back to his left side, fronting a wide grin,

“baby! how you doing?!”

miguel eyes light up once more, mirroring his wife’s smile before his hands reach out to her, arms wide open to invite her to a hug,

“my love! mi corazón ! beautiful beautiful querida! i am so happy you are here!” he sighs dreamily,

she giggles at his cute demeanor, accepting his embrace as he pulls her in, arms wrapped around her waist.

“there was this girl who wanted to take me home and I completely told her off because i said, ‘my wife! is here with me and i would appreciate it if you fuck off!’ “

she holds back a laugh at how silly and sassy he is putting on his scowl expression,

“really? well good riddance! she should’ve known better!” she pulls away and cradle his cheeks in between her hands, feeling him lean against her palm,

he nods, circling his hands around her wrists. “mi corazón te pertenece, ahora y para siempre. got you this far, didn’t i?”

if her heart could burst, it would in that moment. even in his drunken state, he still manages to front a lovesick gaze everytime he looks at her. to speak like a true poet and aim for her heart just like that,

she nods back, pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “yes, baby. yes you did”

I WANT HIM SO BAD YALL I CANT

#miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fluff

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reese-tasteslikepepsicola · 4 months

Text

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Naked

Summary: In which Reader walks in on a naked Peter, Reader laughs, Peter becomes insecure. Reader decides to show herself naked back in the worst moment possible. Based on the episode of New Girl with Jess and Nick lol <3

Warnings: Nudity, slight smut? Like it’s not crazy smutty, Peter fantasizes about reader while with someone else for a hot minute lol

…

“You are not gonna believe this!” Peter’s voice can be heard from the front door of your shared New York Loft.

You, Mj, Peter and Ned were all living together and sharing rent while you all attended College. It was chaotic at times, but it worked out.

At the end of the day, it was nice to be snuggled up on the couch watching a cheesy horror movie with your friends,

“You finally grew a few inches?” Mj asked, biting into her bagel that you made for her. Peter glared at her before throwing his jacket on the couch,

“No. This girl in my Econ class wants me to come over tonight to hang out” You turned around so quick that the whisk that had egg on it flew off and splashed onto Ned,

“Really?” He groaned and wiped it off,

“A date?” Your eyebrow raised, a smirk plastered on your face, attempting to cover up your jealousy.

You and Peter weren’t dating, or even flirting with each other at that. You guys were just simply friends and roommates.

Peter couldn’t deny that you were cute and blessed in all the right places, and you couldn’t deny that he was hot and awkward in a charming way.

All of the glances at each other and occasional long lasting hugs between the both of you were always cut off with the bug boy poking fun at you and you firing back ten times worse.

So, why were you so jealous that he was gonna get some ass tonight?

“Oh! Peter is getting the hanky panky?” You exclaimed, a grin on your face. He scrunched up his nose and snatched one of Ned’s pieces of bacon,

“Y/n, don’t call it that. But, yes, I will most likely be having sex tonight with a hot, sarcastic blond who’s totally into my muscles” He flexed his arm in your face obnoxiously,

“Gross” Mj snorted. You slapped his bicep with the spatula,

“You know what, good for you, man. What’s her name?” Ned asked, patting Peter on the back,

“Her name is Lauren. She’s into politics and nature, and enjoys taking pictures of big, historical buildings” He stated, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders and smirking,

“Too bad your building is small” Ned joked. Peter tilted his head to the side in confusion,

“What’s that mean?” Mj cackled and looked over at you as you let out a snort,

“Oh! I was just—um—joking that your uh—penis? Yeah, penis, is small. But, it’s not! It was a joke! You’ve got a great penis, man! I’m not saying it’s small—they laughed, okay?!” Ned began stuttering, scratching the back of his neck and pointing at the two girls who were laughing.

Peter just nodded and squinted his eyes,

“Right, whatever” While his three roommates continued conversation, he remained silent and began overthinking about what Ned said.

Yeah, it was a joke! But, was it, though? Was there truth behind it?

“Your dick is huge, Peter. Lauren will love it” Peter said as he stared at himself in the mirror in his room.

‘Blue (Da Ba Dee)’ by Eiffel 65 began playing from Peter’s speaker. He turned the volume up to the max and stepped back to get a better view of himself.

He took off his shirt and began flexing his biceps, then awkwardly dancing, attempting to boost his self-esteem. Aunt May always told him to dance if he was feeling upset as a kid,

“Yo, listen up here’s a story about a little guy that lives in a blue world!” Peter started singing along to the lyrics, unbuckling his belt and pulling his jeans down,

“And a blue corvette and everything is blue for him and himself and everybody around cause he ain’t got nobody to listen!” He ran his hand down abs, continuing to stare at himself in the mirror and singing along to the song.

Meanwhile, you were on your stomach in your bed, studying for your upcoming exam. You were slowly growing frustrated with Peter’s loud music powering over your’s that was playing from your phone,

“Peter! Turn your shit down! I can barely hear Lana Del Rey, right now!”

He slowly pulled down his boxers and sighed, scratching his forehead,

“Well, here’s my dick, Lauren. Hope you like it” He mumbled. The mirror isn’t flattering,

“Yep, it’s definitely the mirror, Peter. I’m beautiful the way I am” He shook his head and cringed at his words, and began dancing again.

“For fuck sake” You slammed your textbook shut and got up, ready to cuss him out. You walked across the hall and swung his bedroom door open,

“Seriously, dude! Some of us are trying to study!” When you looked up, you gasped as you were face to face with a dancing and very naked Peter Parker.

You both froze and stared at each other for a few seconds before you broke it by pointing at his dick and letting out a screech-like laugh, then running out of the room.

The whole situation hit Peter like a wave, and he flopped down on his bed and caged his head in between his arms,

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—no, no, no, no” He kept repeating, the incident replaying in his head.

A notification went off on his phone. He grabbed it and saw it was a message from Lauren.

Laurenfromecon: Hey big boy. My roommate finally left for the night. I hope your on your way ;)

Peter took a deep breath and sent a thumbs up back, too traumatized and distraught to send anything flirty back.

If you laughed at his dick, wouldn’t that mean Lauren would, too?

“Hey guys—to make my story short, I walked in on Peter dancing naked to that blue song” Ned spat out his water and Mj’s eyes practically bulged out of her her head,

“Oh! That’s not…” She laughed, setting her mug down on the coffee table,

“Yeah! Like he was dancing naked and like—staring at himself in the mirror while doing it, too! It was so—weird? I don’t know what to say to him now!” You began ranting, playing with your hair nervously.

Ned stood up and placed his hands on your shoulders,

“What did you say to him? Or did you say anything at all?” You looked down at your hands and began fiddling with them,

“Well, I kinda might’ve pointed at his…friend and laughed at it” Ned threw his head back and placed his hands on his face,

“Y/n! You never laugh at a man’s penis! That’s like the worse thing a woman could do!” Mj shook her head and leaned back into the couch,

“And right before his hook up, too? Dude, he’s probably in his room right now crying and throwing up” You grabbed a pillow and screamed into it before flopping down,

“Speak of the devil” She mumbled, flicking your head and then pointing to Peter who was fast walking past you guys with his hoodie covering his face,

“Oh my god! Hey, buddy!” You cringed at your words as you jogged after him to the front door,

“Please, leave me alone, y/n” He mumbled, trying to find where his keys were hanging frantically,

“Peter, we should really talk about this! It was just an accident that won’t happen again, right?” You tried to say nonchalantly, giving an awkward shrug as you guarded the front door,

“We knock on doors in this house. It shouldn’t of happened in the first place” He said through gritted teeth, finally getting ahold of his keys,

“I know! Just, your music was so loud and you wouldn’t of heard my kno—

“Y/n, please move” You sighed and slapped his shoulder,

“Listen, Petey, dancing naked is so normal! I dance naked sometimes, too!” You exclaimed. Your two friends both shook their heads as they watched what was currently going on in front of them,

“Just—move” He gently pushed you out of the way and opened the door, making his way out into the halls,

“I dance naked while listening to Sza and Ethel Cain all the time! Nothing to be ashamed of” You yelled out, your voice and words echoing throughout the halls. Peter shook his head and ran to the elevator. Your neighbour stepped out and gave you a disgusted look,

“Oh, shut the fuck up” You glared at him.

“Your so hot, Peter” Lauren moaned out, straddling him on her bed,

“Uh—thanks. Your pretty hot, too” He mumbled in between kisses. He shut his eyes, desperately trying to get himself hard and get you out of his thoughts,

“Fuck, take off your pants” The girl said, her hands going to the zipper of his jeans. Peter felt his heart jump out of his chest in fear,

“Wait! Can you take off yours first?” He pulled her hands away from crotch. She smirked and hopped off the bed and began stripping till she was completely naked.

Peter let out a huff of air and palmed himself,

“Wow, your um- nice” He cringed at his compliment and at how he still wasn’t becoming hard looking at a naked, blond chick who wanted him.

Did y/n break my dick’s ability to function for good? He thought to himself,

“Peter? You alright?” Lauren asked, snapping her fingers in front of his face,

“Huh? Yeah! Oh, yeah! I just need to…” He trailed off, gesturing to his dick. The blond grinned and nodded, going back to straddling him, grinding on him,

“Oh, shit” Peter cursed as her hand reached into his pants, slipping past his boxers, beginning to stroke his length.

As Peter laid his head back against the pillow, he found himself beginning to relax, trying to ease his mind,

If Lauren didn’t like my dick, why is she trying so hard to get it up? Y/n is immature, of course she’d laugh at your penis! Y/n…y/n…y/n…I wonder what y/n is doing right now. She’s probably dressed in her cute pyjama set after having her nightly shower. She’s probably laid on her bed thinking about you, thinking about you naked. Yeah, she for sure is. I wonder what she does in her room when she’s alone. Y/n, y/n, y/n, y/n…

Y/N?!

“Peter?” Lauren cleared her throat and took her hand out of his pants,

“Are you okay?” Peter eyes snapped opened,

“Is there anything I can like—do differently?” She asked awkwardly, chewing on her nail.

The spider boy let out a groan and flopped back down on the pillow, his flushed with embarrassment,

“Sorry. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s just—

“It’s fine, whatever. It’s okay to not be in the mood” She said, rolling off of him and slipping her clothes back on,

“Maybe we can…cuddle?” Peter asked, immediately regretting his words. The blond nodded, hesitantly laying underneath his arm,

“Uh, okay”

What the fuck is wrong with you, Peter? Why were you thinking about Y/n?

Peter stayed the night and left first thing in the morning,

“So…how was it?” Ned asked as Peter sat down on the leather couch.

He shook his head,

“Terrible” His friend frowned and paused the football game that was currently playing,

“What happened?”

Peter explained everything to Ned,

“Let me guess, the way y/n laughed at your junk made you so insecure about it that you couldn’t get a hard on?” Bug-boy groaned and and lifted his arms up,

“Exactly! What the fuck am I supposed to do now? What if she ruined my ability to ever become horny?”

Ned shrugged and frowned,

“Listen, y/n feels horrible about the way she acted. She really does feel bad. Go talk to her, trust me. My grandma always says that communication is the bed solution”

“Thanks a lot, y/n! Because of you, I can’t get an erection!” Peter yelled as he barged into your room. You slammed your book shut and sat up on your knees in the middle of your bed,

“What?!” He nodded and and pointed his finger in your face,

“I cant get your stupid little screech out of my head! The whole time I was trying to hook up with Lauren, your laugh and reaction to my dick kept replaying in my mind” You placed your face in your hands,

“I’m sorry, okay?! I just panicked, and when I panic I laugh or scream!” He rolled his eyes and leaned against your doorframe,

“Peter…your member is beautiful, okay?” You said, giving him a toothy smile. His face scrunched up,

“Oh my god! Do not call it a member, please. Call it a dick or whatever” You sighed and pushed your hair back,

“Your dick is nice looking, okay? It’s a good—dick. It’s far from small. I just got embarrassed because I invaded your…privacy” You were telling the truth.

He ‘tsked’ at the last part,

“You were embarrassed?” He said, raising an eyebrow,

“We were both embarrassed! I should have knocked. You should have turned down your music” He nodded and remained silent,

“I guess so”

The next day, you came up with the best idea.

There had to be some way to ease the tension, to relieve Peter’s embarrassment,

“This should work” You said, standing nude in front of your mirror. You ran your hands up and down your curves and let out a huff.

Your idea was to wait in his room and flash Peter when he came home to make it even between the both of you.

It’s only fair, right?

You wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to his room.

“Fuck, I can’t believe this is happening” Peter and Lauren came stumbling through your shared loft,

“Are you sure your friends are out tonight?” The girl asked against his lips. He moaned when she pushed into his groin,

“Y-Yeah. They should be”

Peter had texted Lauren that morning, asking to hang out.

He really thought about everything that went down and concluded that it was never that serious.

His dick was fine, so was his body, and he wasn’t going to let you stop him from hooking up with pretty girls.

That’s how he ended with Lauren in his car, and then in his apartment,

“My room is down here” She followed him as he led her to his room.

You gasped as you heard Peter and a female voice echo throughout the apartment.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!

You scrambled around the room, quickly trying to find where to go. You went to the bedroom door and stopped as you heard them step right outside it.

Fuck! Think fast, y/n.

You stopped, dropped, and rolled to the side of his bed that was facing away from the door.

“Take off your clothes” Peter nodded as he stood in front of Lauren who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He took a deep breath and hurriedly took off his shirt.

She grinned and bit her lip, her hands going to unclasp her bra,

“Who the fuck is that?!” She screamed, pointing to the floor before covering her chest. Peter turned around and saw you in a towel, crawling on the floor towards his door,

“Y/n?! Wha—

You stood up and ran to the door, your towel then fell, revealing your nude backside,

“Oh…f-fuck” Peter whimpered as he stared at your body, completely forgetting that the blond was there, sitting frightened and confused as hell on his bed.

His eyes became hazy, his pupils dilating,

“Y/n” You slowly turned around, his gaze now being introduced to your naked front view.

His eyes trailed from your face to your breasts and lower.

A smirk-like grin formed on his lips as he stared at you.

You cleared your throat and ran a hand through your hair,

“Ta-da” You said, giving a weird smile.

Coming to your senses, you picked up the towel and quickly wrapped it around yourself, then practically sprinted out of the room and slamming the door behind you,

“Wow” Peter chuckled under his breath.

You were so fucking beautiful.

She’s so fucking beautiful, holy shit.

Lauren screamed from behind him,

“Um—what the fucking fuck just fucking happened!!”

Part 2!

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chaoticbardlady99 · 3 months

Text

I Wondered if I Could Come Home? (Astarion x Pregnant F! Reader) MDNI 18+ Part 2

CW: Smut, insecurities, pregnancy sex, PIV

Tag-list: @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @starstruck-mj-writings @divineknightmare

Part 1 is on my Masterlist :)

This is unedited because I’m tired 😂💜

Photo belongs to @cheekylittlepupp on Tumblr

“These are all truly terrible options, Darling,” Astarion whispers into your ear, “I feel like putting anyone in this should be considered abuse.”

You try and fail to suppress the laughter- covering your mouth with your hand when another woman shoots you a glare. You should regret dragging Astarion in here, but you don’t. He’s right- this place has absolutely nothing adorable and you hate shopping here. You are very happy he shares the same sentiment.

This was an unplanned stop in the grand scheme of the evening. Astarion had insisted on taking you on a date the moment you woke up this morning. When you went to protest and say, “I look like a beached whale, no”- you were thoroughly kicked by Eowyn.

You picked the name Eowyn together a little over a month after Astarion first arrived. It’s almost month 7 now and although Astarion missed out for a few months- your daughter and him are already peas in a pod.

You disagree with Astarion? Kick. If you pick a book that doesn’t interest him? Kick. You get hormonal, angry, and Astarion sounds even slightly sad? You bet you are gonna be running to the bathroom to throw up. She’s a spiteful fucking kid and you cannot catch a break. You are the one carrying her and yet!

You suppose you can’t blame her though. You don’t want to give him any reason to leave anymore than she does. You know Astarion won’t leave again, but that worry is also silently there.

“Darling,” Astarion whispers, “come look at this atrocity.”

Astarion scrunches up his nose and picks up one of the other baby outfits. He looks at you with a “really?” and shows you a piece of fabric fashioned into a onesie with “Selune Loves Me”. You don’t even bother to suppress your snort of laughter.

“I have a horrible feeling that Shadowheart will be buying that for Eowyn,” you sigh.

“Oh no- not if I can help it!” Astarion puts the onesie back (he even folds it), “our kid is going to be a raging atheist and I will have it no other way!”

“And if she decides to be a cleric or a paladin?”

Astarion grumbles a “well that’s different” under his breath. He opens the door for you and bows dramatically as you walk through it. Astarion’s smile is brighter than the sun when you giggle.

“I’m glad you are willing to support all possible life paths, Star,” you tease.

“I will eventually convince her to change her mind,” he muses, “we’ll begin putting swords and instruments in front of her and hope she turns out better than Volo.”

You huff at him and roll your eyes. He intertwined his fingers with yours and you continued the rest of your date.

***************************

You are laying in your bed- remaining absolutely still. Astarion seems like he is still sleeping?

Whatever sick fuck keeps adding spice into your life, has gifted you an incredibley real sex dream with Astarion. Again.

You told yourself you were going to behave- certainly not because you want to. It’s out of respect for Astarion and his boundaries. You don’t know what he’s been up to or if he would even want to while you look like this.

Oh wonderful- tears.

The hardest part of this whole pregnancy nonsense is that you don’t feel good about yourself or how you look. You didn’t necessarily have the best self esteem to start with, but your body changing in front of you almost every day wasn’t helping. You know your hips have gotten slightly wider and your breasts have gotten bigger. You try to be active as much as possible so you feel some control and you eat as healthy as you possibly can without lacking nutrients, but none of it felt like enough. You feel disgusting.

Your silent tears fall down your cheeks as you suppress your pitiful sniffling. If you close your eyes, you’ll eventually fall asleep. That’s what you usually do and that’s what you did when Astarion was gone. Sleep heals everything.

Maybe your body has finally had enough of pushing all of the discomfort back. All those feelings of being unwanted, unloved, and not like yourself are ripping you apart at the seams as they rush to your eyes.

You begin to move away from Astarion- deciding it would be better for you to sit in your little rocking chair and read for a bit. There is no reason to make yourself upset over something you can’t change. Your pregnancy will be over soon enough anyhow.

“Darling?”

Astarion’s voice pierces the silence and his fingers are clinging to your shirt as if to keep you there.

You clear your throat, “yes my Star?”

“Where are you going?”

Astarion sounds incredibly worried. It’s been hard for him to see you when you are sick or when you are obviously picking yourself apart in the mirror. Astarion is constantly worrying about your vertigo and you walking around without him or Shadowheart to catch you.

You told him that his worry isn’t necessary and that you would let him know if you were feeling dizzy or like you were going to pass out. You don’t want to bring harm to yourself or your child.

“I know you know your body, Darling,” Astarion says with his shoulders slumped and a slight frown on his lips, “I have no right to tell you what you can or cannot do, but please, my Love. I just found you again. I can’t even fathom the idea of-“

Astarion had broken down sobbing, then you began to cry, and then Eowyn was kicking so you caved and promised to let him know if you were leaving the room.

You roll over to look at him and his eyebrows raise in alarm. You hastily run the tears away and smile.

“I was just going to sit on the rocking chair.”

Astarion just squints at you and you avoid his gaze- looking up out the window.

“The moon is very pret-“

“Tav, why were you crying?”

Dammit. It’s the “I’m serious” Astarion voice.

“Oh uh,” you chuckle awkwardly, “I just had an interesting dream and it led to interesting thoughts- then TADA pregnancy hormones.”

Astarion flashes you a teasing smile before ghosting his lips over yours.

“Oh I am very aware of these ‘interesting’ dreams of yours, Darling. I’ve been waiting for you to finally ask me to re-enact a few.”

Your heart stops momentarily and you blink a couple times. There is no way you heard that correctly. You begin to tear up and Astarion’s brows furrow in concern.

“You don’t want that,” you say in a low voice, a stray tear rolls down your cheek, “I look disgusting.”

His lips are on yours in an instance- a whimper leaves your lips as you feel a warm stirring between your legs. It’s almost embarrassing how desperately your body wants him- craves him. Being kissed like this by him again is a blessing.

“I wish you would stop trying to guess what I want when it comes to you,” he sighs against your lips, “and I wish you could see how beautiful you are- all the time.”

“My body has just changed so much- to me anyway,” you whisper, “I worry that I’m not attractive to you anymore.”

Astarion grabs your hand with his and guides you down to the front of his underwear- opening your hand so that you palm against his erection. You blush furiously when he forces your eyes to meet his with his other hand. His pupils are blown wide with lust.

“Does it feel like I’m not attracted to you anymore?”

“No,” you whisper shyly.

“I want you desperately,” he places a chaste kiss on your lips, “As I always have.”

You feel embarrassed by the sigh of relief that leaves your mouth upon his confession. You want to be with him this way so badly it hurts. You hesitantly wrap your leg around his hip and you pull him in for a kiss.

Astarion’s lips are soft against yours. You keep a slow pace- unsure of how far he would be willing to go.

You find out pretty quickly when you feel his hands find your underwear- tearing away the fabric completely. You pout against his lips playfully.

“I liked those.”

“I’ll buy you a thousand more pairs, my Love.”

“But-“

The breath leaves your body when you feel his fingers begin to play with your clit. Astarion roughly presses the pads of his fingers against your clit- the additional friction making you keen in pleasure.

Astarion starts to pull away and your hands find purchase in his hair- pulling him back to you. Your desperation spurs him on and your lips are crashing against each other at a fast pace.

You feel him pull you back by your hair, making you look at him- you open your mouth to protest, but then you feel one of his fingers slide into you. Astarion pushes himself all the way into you with his finger until his palm is teasing your already sensitive clit. He must realize how ready you are for him because he enters a second finger and then a third shortly after.

The feeling of his fingers inside of you are intoxicating and the way he is looking at you is even more so. Your moans are on display for him to see- Astarion’s hand in your hair has yet to loosen as he finger fucks you relentlessly.

“So good, so perfect,” he says, “and I’m the only one who will ever have the pleasure of breeding you.”

Astarion’s words rip something inside of you open- you begin to clench around his fingers hard as your climax sinks into your body. His name falls from your lips like a prayer.

It probably is- if you are being entirely honest to yourself. Astarion looks ethereal under the moonlight that floods the room. His curls are mussed up a bit from sleep, his lips turned upward and slightly parted as he watched you be overtaken with pleasure.

Astarion leaves a chaste kiss on your lips and moves your hair out of your face. He sits up and pulls you onto his lap and traces the veins in your neck down to your collarbones. His hands meet in the middle to unlace your shirt all while making eye contact the entire time.

“Gods,” Astarion whispers as he kisses down your chest, “you are exquisite, my Love.”

You must have forgotten what it was like to be under Astarion’s lustful hands and loving gaze. Your dreams were nowhere like this.

You whine at the skin contact and you feel yourself clench around nothing. The feeling of his cold fingers running along your skin- how they tease and pinch your sensitive nipples. Astarion’s word of praise alone are enough to get you off.

“So needy.”

Astarion takes one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth- sucking and grazing it with his fangs. His other hand begins to trail downward as grinds his erection up into your unclothed, soaking folds.

“Have you missed me, Darling?” Astarion coos, “has no one else been able to make you feel this way since I’ve been gone?”

You know exactly what he is asking.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly, “because my hands are nowhere as skilled as yours.”

Astarion’s laughter fills the air and your body with joy. His hand moves to release his erection from his underwear. You gasp at the sight and your hand immediately goes downwards- you feel him growl against your breast when you swipe your finger through some of his precum.

You look down and his eyes are on yours as you put your finger between your lips, licking it clean.

Astarion moves his attention from your breasts- pulling you by your hair down to his mouth so he can taste himself on you. The other hand lines him up with your entrance before pulling you down by your hips at the same time he thrusts upward.

You see stars as Astarion grazes that perfect spot inside of you. His hands had untangled from your hair a while ago, both of his hands guiding your hips down so that you continue to take his full length.

“Astar- I’m going to- fuck,” you cry out as his fingers find your clit again.

“You are going to what, my Dear? I’m afraid I didn’t catch that,” he says teasingly, his thrusts getting sloppier as you clench harder and harder.

“I- I,” your eyes roll in the back of your head as you pitch forward, putting your face in the crook of his neck. Your moans reverberate through the room- your voice is almost guttural from the intense amount of pleasure you are experiencing.

Astarion’s orgasm followed yours quickly- his moans coming out ragged and incoherent as he fills you to the brim with his seed.

You kiss his cheek, along his cheek bone, and then back until you are in the crook of his neck again.

“You are the most incredible woman I have ever had the privilege to lay eyes on,” Astarion says fondly, “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Star,” your blissfully fucked body relaxes against his.

You don’t remember when you began to fall asleep or when Astarion repositioned you so that you were spooning. The only thing you can recall is Astarion kissing your shoulder, neck, and behind your ear while whispering his gratitude and love for you into your skin.

#astarion x female reader #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #astarion romance #astarion x tav #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #karlach #pregnancy #Astarion x pregnant reader #astarion x f!tav #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x f! reader #astar

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frost-queen · 4 months

Text

Starcrossed lovers (Reader x Peter Parker) NWH

Requested by: Anon Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Summary: You & Peter were in love till he lost you. Pulled through a portal he did not expected to meet you again on a different earth. When the battle against Green Goblin in upon them has Peter a chance to forgive himself but at what cost? [ part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 ]

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you Y/n.” – Peter breathed out. Some electricity flickered dangerously above his head. You gasped loud looking up to him. Feet dangling in the air as his hand in yours was the only thing holding you in place. – “Peter…” – you said anxiously. The broken insides of the construction site clear. In the midst of the building you were hanging. Your life literally in Peter’s hand.

He himself hung stuck on a support bar made of metal with only his web. You gasped again hearing the construction site tremble. Feeling as if the place was coming down any second. You looked down at the gaping hole ready to swallow you whole. – “Don’t… don’t look down Y/n.” – Peter said with a clenched expression.

He felt his hand sweat underneath his suit, hoping it wouldn’t lose his grip on you. The construction site shook again, trembling and breathing as it disturbed the peace. Peter and you bounced a bit trying to stay steady. – “Peter!” – you called out wanting him to look at you. Peter was panting, holding onto you with every might. He looked down at you seeing the fear in your eyes. Yet there was also something else hiding in your eyes. Acceptance? Peter felt his hand slip in yours, making him groan loud. It made your feet dangle more knowing he couldn’t hold you any longer

You knew as good as anyone that Peter couldn’t save the both of you. It was him or you. It was an easy choice to make. The world needed spiderman, but the world didn’t need Y/n Y/l/n. It was an easy choice. You or him. You slowly closed your eyes, squeezing them gently shut as a single tear rolled down your cheek. Peter groaned again as he felt his grip falter on you. – “I’ll… I’ll figure something out Y/n.” – Peter said looking around to see how he was going to get out of here.

“I have to!” – Peter shouted at himself as you slowly opened your eyes once more. – “Peter I love you.” – you said making him look down at you. His eyes widened finally seeing the meaning in your eyes. You opened your hand, letting it lean back so his grip faltered.

Your hand slipped out of his as you descended into the abyss. – “No!” – Peter shouted releasing his web. You were falling. Peter diving after you, reaching his hand out to you. A web shot out aiming at you in the hopes of catching you. Your eyes were glossy from the held in tears. The wind catching you like hands trying to ease your fall. Peter’s web reached and attached itself to your stomach. He called it out trying to lift you up but the ground was reaching faster. Faster then he could’ve pulled you up. Your back smacked against the hard floor, bouncing off. It was fast. Quicker than falling asleep. Red crimes blood staining the hard floor. Peter landed beside you, picking you up carefully. For his pain could never be healed.

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“Just think of Peter!” – you called out slightly annoyed. – “Okay, okay.” – Ned replied jumpy as you were making him nervous. – “Just hold on.” – he added moving away from you. MJ sighed loud with a shake of her head. – “I need to concentrate for this.” – he told you. – “Then concentrate.” – you answered bitsy. MJ got up grabbing you by the shoulders. – “Give him some space.” – she said pulling you backwards away from Ned. You surrendered holding your hands up. – “I’ll won’t say a thing.” – you told her as MJ sat you down. – “Here have a cookie.” – she slid the tiny plate with cookies closer to you.

Cookies Ned’s grandma had made. You didn’t want to accept one as MJ took one and forced it into your hand. With one stern glance of her, she forced you to remain silent and eat it. Ned wiggled his shoulders to prepare himself like a boxer would before entering the ring. He moved his fingers in front of him, closing his eyes. – “Think of Peter Parker. Think of Peter Parker.” – he mumbled to himself. Slowly little orange flickers appeared in the midst of his grandma’s living room. MJ’s eyes widened as the orange sparks increased. Tumbling in a spiralling way as they grew wider.

Creating an opening. Your eyes widened as well making you drop your cookie out of shock. The portal opened more as you could look into an alleyway. A figure unclear. – “Peter! Hey Peter!” – Ned called out. The figure turned around pointing confused at himself. – “Peter come’ on!” – Ned urged not knowing how long he could open this portal. The figure approached jumping through the portal. – “It worked.” – MJ said looking at spiderman. The spiderman looked from Ned to MJ, then his eyes fell on you. It made him take off his mask, hoping his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

Ned and MJ gasped loud. – “Who are you?” – Ned asked loud. It drew spiderman’s attention away from you. – “I’m Peter.” – he said friendly. – “No, we are looking for Peter… Peter Parker.” – MJ stated looking suspiciously at him. – “My name is Peter Parker.” – his gaze going back to you. MJ furrowed her brows looking back at you confused. – “No, our Peter is spiderman.” – Ned addressed. – “I am spiderman.” – Peter replied looking briefly at Ned. MJ grabbed a bagel throwing at Peter.

Peter furrowed his brows, moving his hands away, gesturing why. – “I wanted to test your spider tingle.” – she told him. – “I have the spider tingle just not for bread.” – he told her. You snorted loud finding it very funny. Hearing you laugh made Peter’s face light up. – “We summoned the wrong Peter.” – Ned said out loud making you get up. You brushed past MJ and Ned coming over to Peter.

You started circling around Peter taking a close look at him. When you came to the front and your eyes met, you smiled sheepishly. – “Hi.” – you said softly. – “Hi…” – Peter replied with a saddened smile. You lifted his arm up, going underneath it as you examined his suit. Went around his back to the side, taking his other arm. You faced his palm up checking his spider webs.

You pressed on it accidently gluing your fingers to his device. You chuckled sheepishly. – “Sorry.” – you spoke. Peter smiled till his smile faltered having been brought back to a memory. He remembered when you had done the exact same thing once. He pulled the web of your fingers, freeing you. – “He seems real enough to me.” – you told MJ and Ned. Peter who had put his mask between his teeth, raised his arms in a way of telling MJ and Ned he was telling the truth. He pulled his mask out of his mouth with a smile. MJ still had her suspicion on him. – “Don’t mind MJ, she is a bit untrusting towards people.” – you told Peter.

“That’s okay.” – Peter answered almost saying your name. It almost blurted out so naturally he had missed saying it. Ned took a deep breath. – “Alright attempt number two.” – he prepared himself again for another go. Peter stepped aside joining your side. He watched Ned swirl his hand in a circle to open another portal. – “I’m Y/n.” – you told him making him look back at you. – “I know…” – he whispered saddened. You quirked up your eyebrow. Peter kept staring at you, unable to grasp that you were standing here beside him.

If he could, he would’ve grabbed you and kissed you like his life depended on it. It hurt, hurt being so vividly reminded of the loss of you in his world. It felt like a blessing that he got to speak to you again, yet it felt bittersweet knowing you were from somewhere else. A different earth. – “So uhm…” – Peter began half watching Ned’s attempts to open another portal. – “Peter… your Peter are you… his…” – Peter felt ridiculous and silly for even asking it.

He just wanted to know if his alternative Peter was yours. You picked up on it, laughing loud. – “Oh no, I’m just a friend. MJ is Peter’s girlfriend.” – you nudged with your head at MJ. – “Okay…” – he whispered out with a saddened smile. A new portal opened as a second person walked out, claiming to be Peter Parker as well. MJ sighed disappointed as Ned could only chuckle awkwardly.

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“Can the spiderman come out to play?” – all three Peter’s turned their head at the familiar voice. Green Goblin riding his hoverboard as he unleashed his green bombs. They were coming towards the building aiming for Dr. Strange. Doc Oc’s attached arms grabbed them out of the air, protecting Dr. Strange. They exploded in his metal grip. Stephen gasped when Green Goblin flew by, grabbing the cube from him.

Peter, the Peter from this earth turned his head in shock. Doc Oc flung a metallic arm at him, taking a hold of the hoverboard. Green Goblin was being held in place making him look surprised back. Strange flung a whip to Green Goblin taking back the cube. It hovered between his hands as he sighed relieved. Green Goblin turned snapping off one of Doc Oc’s arms. Doc Oc cursed in pain with frustration. The cube slowly turned in Stephan’s hand as all three Peter’s widened their eyes.

All seeing the green bomb ball inside the cube. – “Strange no!” – Peter one shouted holding his hand out. The bomb exploded releasing the magic inside it with blasts as two spheric rings blasted through the building. The entire building shook as it made you stumble out of balance, knocking into Ned. Ned, MJ and you were a few levels below, unaware of what was happening up there. The heavy shield destined for the statue of liberty released from it’s position.

With a heavy weight it scorched a way down the building. Breaking everything in it’s wake. The platform you were on shook immensely. Even shifted as you lost your balance. Making you stumble backwards as your arms flayed around for any balance. You tipped over the edge with a loud scream. Ned unable to grab you in time as he clutched onto a pipe, nearly falling down himself.

Your scream was hearable till the top. Making all three Peter’s look up with worry. Peter, Peter three was the first one to react. His scream deafened out as he leaped off the building. Not again. Why was he tormented like this again? Having to relive the moment he lost you. Your hands grabbing for any support. Peter dived down getting pulled back to the memory of where he had seen you fall before. The way you had shown acceptance in your eyes.

Yet your eyes were different. Full of fear. Only fear, no acceptance. He came at you with speed, determination on his mind. Not again. No more he would let you fall. He opened his arms, wrapping them tightly around you as the impact made you twirl in the air. Peter shot out a web as it stuck to a metal bar. His falling slowed down as he landed swiftly on his feet with you in his arms.

Shocked you were panting. Thinking you might have been done for it. Peter was panting too, looking quickly at you. – “Are… are you okay?” – he asked. You nodded vigorously, keeping your hands around his neck. – “Yeah… I’m okay.” – you breathed out shakily. Peter felt himself tear up. – “Are… are you okay?” – you asked seeing how emotional he had become. He nodded with a saddened face. – “I am now…” – he answered letting his forehead rest against yours. He set you down on the ground, holding you by your waist.

Knowing how shaky you still are from the fall. Peter sobbed loud, wrapping his arms tightly around you. – “I caught you. I caught you Y/n.” – he said making you hug him firmer. – “You did.” – you whispered to him, leaving a kiss against his cheek. Peter pulled himself a bit back from the hug, wiping some hair out of your face. He chuckled out a smile between his sobs seeing you alive in his arms.

You kissed Peter again on the cheek, feeling as if you had known him your entire life. Your kiss felt bittersweet as he knew he couldn’t keep you forever. You weren’t from his earth so he couldn’t bring you back. Peter tilted your head leaving a kiss on your forehead. – “Stay out of sight and save.” – he said giving you a slight nudge into a direction. – “I will.” – you told him, going into hiding.

Peter looked back at you, wishing he could keep you, but he couldn’t. His feelings for you had never died out. It hurt, yet it hurt good that he was able to love you a little longer. Hang onto you that little longer to be able to forgive himself. If he could he would take you with him. Knowing you were save on another earth pleased him. Yet he would do anything to try and find a way to be reunited with you again. Even if it meant dying in the process. He couldn’t live without you. You were his entire world.

------------------------------------------------

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

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jaidens · 10 months

Text

Only Bought This Dress (So You Could Take It Off)

pairing [s] : miguel o’hara x reader

a/n : guys i really don't know.. except i want him..so

Whenever Miguel invited you to the Spider-Ball, you had no idea what to wear to be completely and totally honest. Your designer was confused whenever you showed her a picture of Miguel's suit and told her to work her magic. And your designer did such.

The colors of blue and red were prominent and it had a collection of dark-orangey red to compliment his webs. It was completely perfect and what you were thinking of without even explaining it. It was a soft silk fabric with lace covered around with strings of pearls.

You had found a matching lingerie set that would have surely made Miguel lose his mind. When he picked you up in front of your apartment you saw how when you walked down the steps in your long, stiletto red bottom heels and that dress he was anxiously moving in his seat and holding only small talk with you.

The limo stopped at a humongous, absolutely gorgeous building the event was being held at. Spider-Men and Women from all over were dressed to the Tens. The driver opened your door and held his hand out for you to grab. You thanked him graciously as you tangled your arm with Miguel's as he straightened out his suit and he looked down at you. “You look absolutely gorgeous tonight. I love this dress.” His hand touches your hip, rubbing across the delicate fabric. You smile up at him, tracing across his features and the moonlight that colors his face with beautiful carvings.

He helps you up the stairs, letting you use him as a guide to getting up with such tall heels and concrete steps aren't the best mix. His hand stays on your lower back, holding you closer to him when more and more people start to show up. When you walk into the beautiful ballroom, the white marble floors are covered with people and you look up at the expressive paintings that reside on the ceiling with admiration.

“Look at that ceiling. My goodness, it's absolutely gorgeous." Miguel looks up at it, and you get a sight of his neck, as it stretches “It’s pretty amazing." Miguel leaves to speak with another caterer of the party and you go talk to sweet Mary-Jane. Her bright red hair strikes you as she turns around quickly and drops her mouth open.

“Aren’t you just gorgeous? Oh my wow... I love this dress!” Mary-Jane compliments you while running her hand down your arm. “Look at you! I'm obsessed with those earrings." You and MJ hold small talk before Peter walks up behind her and pulls her away to the drink and food tables.

You find a conversation with Peter. You ask him about why he decided to come to the event. “It’s for charity, love. I'll always go to these types of functions if it's about charity.” You turn your head and see Miguel staring at you and Peter, and you're in for the game. You put your hand on his shoulder and you start laughing when he makes a joke about robbing banks.

But as the night reached its climax, a shadow was cast over the euphoria. My heart skipped a beat as I glanced toward the entrance, meeting the gaze of a familiar face. There he stood, his eyes narrowed with a simmering mix of anger and hurt. It was him—the man I had left behind, Miguel consumed by jealousy.

You continue such actions, just being more calm and touchy. You really only saw Peter as a brother and nothing more. Even after stating that multiple times, Miguel still got worried about him. The live concert band showed up and you got giddy and grabbed Peter's hand and asked him to dance. You were casually dancing with Peter until the switch partners part of the song began and someone grabbed your hand and pushed you close.

“Such a slut aren't you? We're going home after this dance.” Miguel is angry and you can tell. His words are cut off and you see his eyes slowly darken with lust and jealousy. You stare down and rest your head on his chest. “Acting all innocent now too.” You really weren't trying to act innocent. You were worried about beginning to do it because you knew how Miguel would act.

As we made our way through the crowd, I cast one last glance over my shoulder, yearning for the stranger who had stirred something within me. But all I found were empty eyes, longing for freedom that now seemed like a distant dream.

The sleek, midnight-black car cut through the city streets like a predator on the prowl. Inside, the air crackled with a mix of desire and jealousy, swirling around Miguel and me, creating an intoxicating tension. The dimly lit cabin was suffused with a primal energy that mirrored the storm brewing between us.

Miguel's hands gripped the steering wheel with an intensity that betrayed the seething jealousy consuming him. His jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on the road ahead, but I could feel his eyes flickering with a fiery mix of possessiveness and resentment.

Earlier that evening, we had attended a glamorous social event, where attention naturally gravitated toward me. Miguel had watched as I conversed and laughed with other men, his strong facade cracking with each flirtatious exchange. The allure of his jealousy fueled my desire, and now we found ourselves alone, confined within the intimate space of his car.

The engine's growl mirrored the tension pulsating between us, as Miguel's grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white. The silence was heavy, pregnant with unspoken words and simmering emotions, as we hurtled through the city streets with dangerous haste.

Unable to bear the weight of the unspoken, I ventured, my voice a gentle tremor, "Miguel, what's wrong?"

His gaze pierced through me, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "You know damn well what's wrong," he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of accusation.

A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the air grow thick with his possessive aura. Miguel's simmering jealousy took on a life of its own, threatening to consume us both. I could sense the hunger in his touch, the burning desire to claim what he believed was rightfully his.

With a sudden swerve, the car veered into an empty parking lot, its tires screeching against the pavement. We came to an abrupt stop, the stillness amplifying the intensity of our emotions. Miguel turned to me, his dark eyes staring into mine, his breath shallow and uneven.

"What were you doing back there?" he demanded, his voice low and charged with a mix of anger and longing. "Flirting with Peter, teasing him with your charm."

A flicker of guilt danced across my features, mingling with the thrill of his possessive rage. "Miguel, it was harmless. Just a bit of fun."

His hand shot out, capturing my chin in a firm grip, his touch simultaneously tender and controlling. "Fun? Do you think I find pleasure in watching Peter vie for your attention?" His voice dropped to a husky whisper, laced with a possessiveness that sent a jolt of desire coursing through me. "You're mine, and I won't stand for it."

In that charged moment, the confines of the car became an arena for our desires and frustrations. The boundaries blurred as Miguel's lips descended upon mine, claiming me with a ferocity that matched the fiery jealousy burning within him. The car's interior became a sanctuary for our entangled bodies, as we surrendered to the intoxicating dance of lust and possessiveness, each touch igniting a passionate blaze that threatened to consume us whole.

In the passenger seat, you, a tantalizing and spirited woman, brace yourself for what you sense is about to unfold. The air is thick with tension as you exit the car, your heart pounding in anticipation.

Miguel storms around the vehicle, his movements exuding authority, and yanks open your door. Without a word, he seizes your wrist and pulls you out, his grip firm yet electric with desire. He gracefully opens the door to the large house and he starts angrily dragging you to the bedroom that you shared together. He flips the lights off and presses a button. The LED lights that sat above turned a dark red. His tan skin is even more beautiful and tantalizing than it was in the sunlight.

He pulls his tie loose and he throws you onto the cleanly made bed. You bend your elbows to catch your fall. You put your knees up and close your thighs together, giving a sort of pleasure that was becoming single-handedly harder to hold back from Miguel. He begins to kiss your neck, sending a tingling sensation through your body. His hands move to your waist, feeling the curves of your body before he presses his body against yours. You close your eyes, surrendering to the pleasure that Miguel brings.

His lips travel down to your collarbone, creating a trail of butterflies that spread throughout your body. You can feel the heat of his body against yours and your heart racing. His hands move to your back as he leans in closer, sending sparks through your soul. He looks into your eyes and your lips meet in an electric kiss. You're lost in the moment, feeling alive and full of passion. You never want it to end. You're stuck in this dream before you remember what got you into this mess. He pulls away angrily and rips the perfectly made dress off your body. You stand there, feeling exposed and embarrassed. "Flirting with Peter wasn't a good idea, was it? Or would you rather him fuck you? Your heart raced as he said those words. You felt ashamed. You knew you had to face the consequences of your actions and you were not looking forward to it. He pulls off his tailored suit and you have a full look at his strong chest.

Miguel crawls back onto the bed and he bites your neck. You moan out and grab at his back, your manicured nails scratching red marks on them. "Please.. touch me." You're completely embarrassed that you're begging for him after getting yourself stuck in this situation. He smiles, a wicked glint in his eye as he presses himself against you. His hands roam your body as he kisses your neck, his breath hot on your skin. You feel a wave of pleasure wash over you as you surrender to his touch. His hand runs down your body, tracing over the delicate lace that you were adorned in. Miguel's hand travels just under the waistband of the panties, teasing you further. "You like the taste of your own medicine? I bet you do."

His fingers skim the lace and travel further until they reach your core. He teases and tantalizes you until you can't take it anymore and you cry out in pleasure. Miguel smiles, satisfied with the power he holds over you. "Such a slutty baby. Bet you'll take anything anyone gives you?" You blush and shake your head, unable to find the words to respond. He grins and presses his lips against yours, letting you know he doesn't need your answer. Instead, he just wants to show you how much pleasure he can give you. You feel his fingers rub your clit in figure-eights. You're rubbing your hips against his hands. You're so close before you feel it; he rips his hands away and lays his fingers against your lips.

You accept his fingers into your mouth and suck them off your pleasure. You moan as he moves his fingers in and out of your mouth, savoring the taste of your arousal. His hands return to your clit and you're soon overcome with pleasure, arching your back as you reach your peak. He flips you over and pushes your head down into the soft pillows and pulls your ass up. You're staring at the mirror at his gorgeous body as he pulls his pants down and throws them on the floor.

You can feel his hand rub against your ass before you feel it, a harsh smack against it. You cry out and hear him speak, "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass. If you do it correctly, I'll treat you." You take a deep breath and start counting, determined to do as he asked. As the spanks continue, you feel a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. You grit your teeth and keep counting until he stops. You feel one last rub in a circle over the burning marks. "You did well, baby." He flips you back around and your head it sat between your pillows and he grabs a pillow next to your head.

You twist your body around to be on your back. You're staring into his dark, beautiful eyes. Miguel takes the pillow and sticks it under your ass. You're on display for him. Your legs spread wide to give him room to relax. His strong arms wrap around your thighs and you feel his breath on your core. He looks up at you with a smirk and then explores you with his mouth. His tongue and lips dance around your sensitive areas.

His lips move faster and faster, sending shockwaves through your body that cause you to arch your back and thrust your hips into his face. His tongue is like a warm, gentle wave, caressing you and making you feel more alive than you ever have before. You can feel your muscles tense up as you get closer and closer to the edge, and when you finally reach it you let out a loud, intense moan that echoes through the room.

"So good for me." He groans out as he comes back up from your core and your slick is on his chin and lips, shimmering in the light. Miguel sits up and you notice how tense his body is. He's hard, his tip is dark purple had gotten so worked up from eating you out and hearing your pleasurable moans that echoed throughout the room. You sit up and your hand travels down his abs and to his cock, stroking it. He leans back against the bed; his hands holding him up from falling, and you press your lips against his, tasting yourself and him. You can feel his heartbeat racing as you kiss him passionately. Your hand strokes him as he humps into your hand. "For how dominant you had been earlier... this is different."

Miguel looks up at you. His eyes have tears as you continue to stroke him. You can sense the vulnerability in Miguel as he looks up at you, his eyes glistening with tears. You can feel the emotion radiating off of him as his heart beats rapidly in response to your touch. He is letting you in, allowing you to see a side to him that he usually keeps hidden. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close. You whisper comforting words to him, assuring him that it's ok to let it all out. He relaxes in your embrace, feeling safe and secure in your presence. After a couple of quick thrusts, his abs tighten and he cums in your hand.

He holds you and you lay in his arms. “You did so good baby. Let’s go get you in the bath.” Miguel picks you up under your aching thighs and carries you to the bathroom that was in your room. He sets you down on the chair that sat in the bathroom. He turns on the bathtub and the water begins heating up. Miguel picks you up once more and sets you into the bath. Your body stretches out and you relax. You share I Love You’s and you lay down for the night.

#miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara is my mans #miguel x you #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara fluff

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tarjapearce · 7 months

Note

Can we get a little story or something of how would Miguel take care of pregnant mama? Like I KNOW he would do the most and go the extra mile. But can we get it in your words?

Pregnancy Cares With Miguel ~ ✨

Warning: Pure fluff and a mild squeeze of nsfw.

Let's meet this weekend. MJ and I found this new place. And the hamburgers? God. 🤌🏻🤌🏻. They have these amazing artisanal beer.

You pouted at the screen. You wanted to go for a burger, but for some reason, you retched at the smell of beef. It was a big no for you. Plus you couldn't drink, for obvious reasons.

I need an outing so badly. Need a drink, work is getting so stressful. This weekend or the next one?

Jessica replied as MJ sent a ':) ' emoji on the group chat.

Can't go :(

What? Why tf no? You've been telling me you need a break. 😐

🤰

Miguel had sent the emoji and you rolled your eyes

I WAS SUPPOSED TO TELL THEM MIGUEL!!!

Wait... Fr?! 😱

OMG ❤️

MJ texted as the rest appeared as typing.

OMG Imma be an auntie!!?? 😳

Boy or Girl?

We don't know yet

You don't know 👀

Stop. Playing.

🤭🤭

SPILL OUT THE BEANS 🙄

Peter had sent a nervous gif and you cackled.

You'll find out tomorrow 😊

I swear if you don't tell

😏😏 What's gonna happen?

Guys... Im pretty sure these sort of things got you in the current situation you're in, can you not do this in the chat please?

MJ just sent a 🤭 emoji.

Fine, woosies. It's a girl. ❤️❤️💖

SHUT UP 🥹🥹

MJ sent another gif exploding in hearts

Congrats on both 🎉🎉

Miguel remained quiet. You pouted.

What you didn't know is that when he came home, he'd get you a lovely bouquet of tulips and some pickles. He'd just pulled your grumpy self into a tight loving hug as he kissed your temple repeatedly until your mood vanished.

"A girl? Really? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Cause the doctor just sent me the results! And you ruined the surprise. I wanted to tell them in a different way!"

"Yeah, yeah. It's a girl! You know what that means?"

"That I'm gonna get so fat?"

"No, mensa. And even if you did, I'd still hit that." (Dummy)

"Not funny" Your cheeks flushed softly as he chuckled.

"Means that we can finally paint her room"

Your eyes swelled up in tears upon hearing him speak so softly and lovingly. He was excited. You could tell by the little flush in his ears.

"Shopping day tomorrow?"

"Ps obvio" (Obviously )

You giggled.

.----

Ever since you told Miguel you both were expecting a girl, it was like a switch turned in him.

He'd cuddle you with such care, he'd think you'd break. Wich was annoying to you since you missed sleeping ontop of him.

And when the cravings started? Dios mío.

"M-Miguel" You'd whimper as you wiped your eyes. He'd startle and instantly go in alert mode.

"¿Qué pasó? ¿Tas bien?" (What's wrong? You ok?)

You hiccuped and weeped "We have no pickles."

He'd stare at you, trying to process the correct emotion to feel in this situation.

"You're crying cause we don't... have pickles"

"Don't be mean!"

You'd hit him softly with a pillow and curled back to your bed.

"Ok, ok, Don't cry? I'll go to the... the store. Be right back."

"Can I have Nutella too?"

"Uh, sure."

Drowsy eyes looked at the clock. 2 am. On another time, he'd surely would ignore the senseless petition and talk to go back to sleep. But how could he do that when you were pregnant? He was an ass sometimes, but with a pregnant you? Never.

He went to the store, to his dismay there was only two small pickle jars, and they were inside a lady's basket.

... Puta madre...

Why was everyone suddenly in the crave for pickles?

He didn't have to elaborate much and explained the lady. She just laughed it off and kindly surrendered them to him.

"Cravings? Oh boy. You better buy her the three jar packs. And avoid wearing too strong colognes infront of her! It might get her queasy."

"Thanks" With a polite smile he paid for the pickles and went home.

You were waiting for him, teary eyed and pouty. He opened the jar of pickles for you and stared at you with awe and a mild disgust as you dipped one of the pickles inside the Nutella and scarfed the veggie down with such hunger it made you cry again.

"Its so good."

His shoulders slumped with a sigh and wiped your chin.

"You're such a weirdo."

"Want some?"

"No, thanks. Keep eating"

"But I'll get fat"

"It's normal to gain weight during pregnancy."

"You'd love me if I was chubbier right?"

"Yes. I would. Eat your... thing."

He'd chuckle watch you eat until you were satisfied. three pickles in total with half the bottle of Nutella.

The next day he got you a small pack of pickles and two big bottles of that sweet spread to then rub your feet.

---

As time went on and your belly grew, the doctor appointments never got skipped or missed. He was there making sure everything was in order. His big hand hugging yours in a secure embrace as you got your ultrasounds. Everything was going perfectly.

The most dangerous months had passed and he allowed to breathe a bit more.

He had refused when you told him you wanted to work from home. Even if it was home office.

"No. It can lead you to stress out. And that will stress the baby out. Something can happen and no. Let me handle it."

"Stop being paranoid, I'll be fine! I just... don't like sitting all day or sleeping. I need to do something. And you didn't let me do much in the baby's room either!"

"Mi amor. You need to rest. I know you don't like it. But you need to."

"Could you at least get me an exercise ball?"

"Sure. Just don't-"

"Ay ya, Miguel! Ni que fuera a romperme!" (Stop it. I'm not gonna break!)

you whined

"I worry, mi reina."

"I know, and I appreciate it, but I gotta do something around!"

"Just promise me you'll go easy, ok?"

"Fine."

You kissed his cheek and cuddled him, the heat he provided felt heavenly against your back. You had started to waddle and to your dismay a new nickname was born. You were his Pingüinita. (Little penguin)

On the six month mark, you'd toss and turn on bed, feeling either too hot or cold. One moment you were snuggled against him, for the next to remove your clothes and lay naked next to him.

One particular night you felt suffocating. Summer was rampant and you woke up in tears at the oppressing heat.

He'd wake up no long after and filled in the bathtub with the right kind of water. Sweat and hormones raging on your body. Despite sleepiness clinging to him, he'd help you to the tub and bathe you.

Big and gentle hands massaged your wet scalp to then massage your shoulders and lower back. He splashed your body with water and kissed your temple carefully.

"Feel better? "

"Great, thank you, mi amor."

He'd smile lazily and remained there with you, almost falling asleep again in the bathroom until you were ready to leave to sleep.

- - -

He'd buy you long and cotton nightgowns. They were breathable and made everything a bit more comfortable for you, along some essential vitamins. And a hammock for the porch. He'd find you sleeping often in there.

Whenever you went out with the rest he'd make sure that none ordered meat. You still were sensitive to the smell, despite Peter longing for a burger.

Miguel would bathe with you to help you wash your back. But it was just an excuse to touch you and feel you. He'd be as gentle as he could with you. It turned him on to see you swelling with his child. Even brought out things he didn't know was into. Like, a lactation kink. And eat you out despite your protests of not being able to see him.

He was absolutely moonstruck with you. And when the time for you to deliver his baby finally came. He tried to remain strong and collected, despite his hands trembling like an earthquake. He kept an eye on you like a hawk, always looming around you.

He couldn't help but melt when Gabriella's cries echoed loud and healthy on the room.

He kissed you with such pride in his eyes that you'd think he was about to cry.

He knew his life with you had just started, and he was glad he had chosen you. Happy and grateful even. You just made him a dad of a wonderful little girl that instantly quieted down when he held her in his arms. One of the nurses snapped a picture of him holding and cooing Gabi as you got a well deserved nap.

Despite him not being a texter, he sent the picture of Gabi to the group chat.

OMG! Congratulations! she's so beautiful! 😊

I wanna cry so badly right now. She's gorgeous 🎉🎉

I'm an uncle now. :') So proud of you, Miguel.

Thanks

When can we see her?

Lemme ask Pingüinita and I'll let you know.

🐧?

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#t writes✨#Pre Soccer Family #miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara fluff

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spidey-x-male-reader · 11 months

Note

can you pls do a hobie brown x Male reader? Like yk how every Spider-Man has like a Gwen or an mj and all the other spiderman ask hobie like “what abt you do you have a gwen or mj?” And he introduces his bf to them?

Pairing: Hobie Brown (Spider-Punk) x male!reader

Requested: yes / no

Warnings: ///

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I'm finally getting back into the mood to write again. This is the first x reader I've written since a long time but I'm always happy to get requests to better myself

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

“Aaand MJ and Mayday are finally back home” Peter said when walking back into the main hall to look at his team members. “But she really liked finally meeting all of you. Even you, Miguel.”

Hobie looked over at Miguel with a slight smirk, watching how Miguel clearly seemed unhappy with this whole situation. But it wasn’t like he could stop Peter at this point. He brought his daughter to work here so why not his wife too? At least for a visit.

“We’re not going to make a habit out of getting visitors here, understand?” Miguel spoke in a stern tone.

“I think we should do quite the opposite. Get more visitors”, Peter grinned, now finally turning to Hobie. “I mean you haven’t brought anyone over yet. You got a MJ or Gwen?”

Hobie let out a scoff. Most people seemed to be having a MJ, or even a Gwen, even if that one seemed to be working out less. He still shook his head. “No MJ or Gwen. I have a (y/n).”

Miles now also moved closer. “(y/n)? Who’s that?”

Apparently this was a community meeting now since Gwen sat down with them too. “Are we talking about (y/n)? He’s Hobie’s boyfriend. The absolute coolest really. We played the drums together one time and–”

“You got a boyfriend? How didn’t we know that before?”

Hobie shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

“You gotta invite him.”

“Didn’t you just hear how I told you that there shouldn’t be more visitors.” Miguel clearly looked annoyed with his colleagues.

“Well now I really have to get him.”, Hobie smirked.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You walked into the compound looking around, dozens of spider-people walking around everywhere. “You really didn’t overdo it, Hobie” you grin, while walking next to him.

“When have I ever overdone anything, love?”, he smirked at you. “We’re almost there.”

“Gwen’s there too?”

“Gwen, Miles, Peter, Miguel, Pavitr probably. They have all been excited. Well most of them. I don’t think Miguel ever gets excited.”, he looked over when he realised you were slowing down a bit. “You don’t gotta be nervous. They’ll love you. And if they don’t it’s their loss”

You nodded, but still grabbed his hand before you two entered the room together. It was almost a comfort to have him this close. And it was almost a comfort that he didn’t seem to mind. He never said anything about it, he didn’t judge you for anything.

The only person you recognized in the room was Gwen who immediately ran over to you.

“(y/n)! Good to see you!”, she grinned, giving you a classic fistbump. “Come on. You gotta meet the rest”, she said, pulling you along.

“Hey Gwen. Try not to steal my boyfriend.” Hobie just chuckled, just walking after you two. It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to you stealing everyones attention wherever you went, even if you didn’t mean to. He couldn’t quite blame anyone for being fascinated by you either.

Every day he looked at you, he fell in love all over again. You once asked him if he didn’t get tired of that one point but he had just shaken his head before saying ‘How could I ever get tired of you?’

And now all of that proved itself true again. You, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles had hunched over in a corner, snickering about something for the first part of your meeting. He was glad you got along with everyone so quickly.

With Peter it was easy too, even if the amount of Baby pictures he tried to show you was almost concerning. You handled it well though. And then it was time for the big boss fight. Miguel, who had menacingly stood in the corner the whole time, watching closely so you didn’t touch anything.

“If you manage to keep him under control I don’t have anything against you being here from time to time.”, Miguel simply said.

“I don’t keep him under control. No one can do that, trust me.”, you grinned, looking over at your boyfriend. Sure he was chaotic, constantly getting the both of you in trouble but honestly? “I wouldn’t have it any other way”, you lightly patted Miguel’s shoulder before moving back to Hobie.

“Already done with meeting everyone?”

“You told me there was a cafeteria.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear.”

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vivwritesfics · 1 year

Text

My Girlfriend, The Worm

Y/N asks Bucky the worm question. Like the old man he is, he answers wrong.

1.2K

This is just crack fluff

“Have you asked him yet?” Peter said to his sister as they sat in their apartment. It was one of the rare times they were both home, and Y/N wasn’t sleeping over at her boyfriend’s place.

Sighing, Y/N shook her head. “No, Pete. There is no way I’m asking him that. I don’t care if it’s a part of some stupid trend,” she said and went back to reading the news paper.

It was something her brother had been seeing all over tiktok for the past few days. He’d sent a collection of them to MJ and his sister, but Y/N had ignored almost all of them. Until her brother brought it up while she was trying to relax.

“Please,” he said, his lip jutting out in a pout. “I’ll deliver you and Mr Barnes some takeout next time I’m on patrol,” he said.

Y/N put her newspaper down. “All that just for me to ask Bucky if he’d still love me if I was a worm?”

“Yeah!”

Huffing, Y/N stood from her chair. “Okay, come on.”

“Where are we going?”

***

Bucky was fast asleep on his sofa. He slept better there, but his girlfriend preferred the bed. He’d never tell her where he really slept when she wasn’t here. He usually didn’t sleep at night, either, so naps during the day it was.

He never expected someone to knock on his apartment door during the day. When they did, Bucky immediately jumped up and grabbed the gun from beneath his pillow. He inched towards the door slowly, not making any noise.

When he looked through the peephole and saw only his girlfriend and her annoying brother standing there, Bucky put away his gun and pulled open the door. “Hey Buck,” Y/N said and kissed his cheek as he let them in. Bucky caught her around the waist and pulled her to stand beside him as Peter walked in.

“Parker,” Bucky said, as Peter walked past him. Y/N rolled her eyes at him and kissed his cheek again. “What’s up, sweets?” Asked Bucky as he shut the door.

Grabbing his hand, Y/N pulled Bucky over to the couch. Her brother walked into the kitchen, helping himself to a glass of water. “I got an important question for you, Buck,” she said, grinning slightly. Her lip was pulled between her teeth as she tried to stop herself from laughing.

She was going to propose. Bucky's heart was in his throat, his eyes wide as he began to squirm in his seat. "Hang on a minute, Doll," Bucky muttered, standing up.

But Y/N pulled him back into his seat. Bucky could have easily overpowered her, pulled her up with just the strength of his metal arm, but he allowed her to pull him back. "It's nothing bad, I promise!" She assured him.

Bucky sucked in a deep breath and nodded his head.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

From the kitchen, Peter burst out laughing. Bucky was silent, just staring at Y/N, waiting for her to elaborate. But she didn't; she stayed quiet, just staring at him.

"Did your brother put you up to this?" He whispered, eyes darting towards the kitchen.

Quickly, Y/N shook her head. "I'm being serious. Would you still love me if I was a worm?"

"I... but you'd be a worm."

The smile dropped from Y/N's face. "Are you saying you wouldn't love me if I was a worm?"

“Doll, you’d be a worm. Am I missing something here?”

Y/N stood from the sofa. “Come on, Peter, we’re going home.”

***

Ever since Y/N had… declared herself a worm and left the apartment, Bucky had been trying to get a hold of her. When he had gotten no reply, he turned to the one person who could help, her annoying little brother.

Kid, what’s up with my girlfriend? He texted, struggling with the keys. He’d only just graduated from a flip phone with actual buttons for the keyboard to a touch screen, which struggled to recognise his metal fingers.

You told her you didn’t love her, Peter replied almost instantly.

Bucky frowned down at his phone. Since when did he say that? All Bucky could respond with was ???

You told her you wouldn’t love her if she was anybody else, that you only love her for her looks.

Sighing, Bucky typed out one last message before leaving his apartment.

Bucky wove through people as he walked through the city. His steps were quick, rushing to get to the Parkers apartment, which was on the other side of the city. Usually, Bucky didn’t walk, but there was no time for a car or a cab.

At the apartment complex, Bucky took the stairs two at a time to get to her. He threw open the door, which he had told Peter to leave unlocked for him, and strolled over to her bedroom.

It was Y/N’s childhood bedroom. She and Bucky had spent a limited amount of time in there, since she still had pink walls and a single bed. She still had up her posters of her favourite bands from when she was younger and a couple of teddy bears. Most of her time was spent at Bucky’s, splitting the costs of meals and things. He didn’t ask her to help pay rent or anything, since she was saving up for a place of her own. Bucky had thought about asking her to move in with him permanently, but he didn’t want his first apartment since the 1940’s to be their home. The apartment where he had countless nightmares before she came along.

Gently, Bucky knocked on her door. “Doll?” His voice was as gentle as his knuckles against the door.

When he got no response, Bucky pushed open the door.

Y/N was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed. A teddy bear Bucky had won her at a carnival was tucked under her arm and she held a picture of the two of them from last Christmas.

Bucky joined her, sitting on the end of her bed. “You know, Doll, I’d still love you if you were a worm. In fact, I’d ask Stark to find a way to turn me into a worm so we could be worms together,” he said, watching carefully for her reaction.

She put the picture between them on the bed. “Buck, I love you,” she said. “And I don’t need you to love me as a worm. I should have known you wouldn’t get it, you old man,” she said and pulled him over to her.

They laid on the bed together, Bucky’s bulky body on top of her own. They fell asleep like that, people in love. No, no, worms in love.

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oharaslover · 4 months

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OKOK BUT LIKE CUCKHOLDING WITH MIGGY AND PETER B

That would be soooo fucking hot

sharing’s caring

pairing: miguel o’hara x peter b parker x fem reader

contents: cucking, slight nipple play, oral (f and m receiving), masturbation (m), unprotected p in v, some aftercare

author’s note: put me in a room with them and they both coming out pregnant 🗣️

word count: 3.3K

Miguel O’Hara was possessive by nature, making sure that what he acquired stayed as his. His possessive nature had started off with material items, moving onto being possessive over the people in his life out of fear. Out of fear that they would leave him or find someone else, he wasn't too sure, but he didn't want to take chances. It was no surprise to see him clenching his fist by his side, his mouth in the signature scowl that he carried while he looked at you interacting with Peter B.

The scene was purely innocent between the two of you, knowing that you were providing him with some comfort after his umpteenth divorce with MJ but that didn't stop the jealousy that brewed deep inside of him. Your hand rested on his shoulder, simply rubbing it as you tried to reassure him to the best of your ability. "I'm sure that if it's meant to be, she'll come back to you," you told him, handing him a tissue to wipe his nose on. "Peter," you heard from behind you, the hairs on the back of your head standing up as you saw Miguel standing there. His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, a silent cue that you were his.

"Didn't mean to make a scene but your girlfriend here's a good therapist," the lanky man told him, tossing the tissue after he was done. "Does she now?" Miguel mused, his tone seeming normal to everyone else but you could tell he was refraining from saying what he wanted to. "I was thinking of inviting you over to dinner, actually. We'd love to have you and I'm sure that you could use the company," Miguel added on, watching as Peter's eyes lit up at just the prospect of having food available. "Sure, what time would you like me to be there?" Peter responded, the tears on his cheeks already starting to dry. "We'll see you at seven."

"Do you mind helping me put this necklace on?" You asked Miguel after a couple minutes of struggling, his tall frame coming behind you. You were seated at the vanity in your bedroom, finishing up on getting ready for the dinner tonight. "You know my hands are too big for those little clasps," he muttered, his talons extended as the clasp of the necklace hung on the tip. The sharp edge of the talons helped him put it on with much more ease, the gold necklace adorning your outfit perfectly. “So why'd you ask Peter for dinner?" you inquired, looking at him through the mirror. "Just wanted to do something for a struggling friend."

He was finishing up getting ready himself, a couple of the buttons on his shirt starting to snap off with how hard he was forcing them. He changed into a black button down, the material doing nothing to conceal the layers of muscle he'd built up over the years. You got up and decided to help him with the buttons before this shirt met the fate as the other one. "Thank you," he murmured, looking down at you as you focused on getting the buttons into the right spot. You leaned over, kissing his cheek when you were done with the task. You couldn't help but smile as he held you in his arms, his hands resting on your waist as he held you close. A loud knock on the door interrupted the both of you, both of you reluctantly letting go before heading downstairs.

You'd made a simple meatloaf for dinner, knowing that Peter couldn't handle the same amount of spices that Miguel could. "It's a little simple, no?" Miguel pointed out, taking a sip from his wine glass to help it go down easier. "What are you talking about? It's delectable!" Peter exclaimed, licking his fingers of the juices from the steak that were dripping down his hand. You look over at Miguel knowingly, taking a bite from your own slice before realizing that he was right. "So Peter, how are you spending your time after the divorce?" you asked him, trying to make some conversation to the dinner wouldn't appear too boring. "Uh, mostly just watching tv and whatnot."

Conversation between the three of you went by smoothly, with you and Peter talking for most of the time while miguel simply listened to the both of you speak. "So, hypothetically, if you could have your way with my girlfriend right now, what is it that you would do to her?" Miguel spoke up, the question catching you completely off guard. Your head shot up and you glared over at him, his attention directed on Peter for his reaction. Peter looked at you like he was debating on what the answer was, setting down his fork before answering. "I think I would worship her, admire her body rather than try to be in a rush all the time. Take things slow."

Throughout the rest of the dinner, the wheels inside of your head wouldn't stop turning as the conversation from earlier repeated itself over and over. You guessed that it was Miguel’s objective with the dinner all along, to help prove to you that Peter B did in fact have some sort of a physical attraction towards you. Though the question that Miguel had asked him wasn't too inherently sexual, you could tell just from the tone that he was using that what was the hidden innuendo behind it. You cleaned up the plates after they finished up eating, deciding to join them on the couch to watch whatever was on tv before Peter went home.

The three of you were sitting down on the couch, Miguel’s arm around your shoulders as you snuggled up closer to him. Your eyes were glued to the tv, paying attention to the show onscreen before your attention was diverted by Miguel clearing his throat. "So how would you like to explore those fantasies of yours? It'd be just for the night, of course," he spoke up, Peter's eyes flicking over to him. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything, and who knows if she's even comfortable with it," Peter responded, sounding a bit nervous as he spoke. "She doesn't have any objections to it. Trust me, you won't be imposing at all."

The two men led you to the bedroom, Peter trailing behind the two of you as Miguel maneuvered his way through the house. You saw that one of the chairs from miguel's home office had been moved to the corner of the room, his tall frame making the chair creak under his weight. You looked over at Peter, his face slowly leaning in closer to meet yours. his lips pressed against you gently, giving you enough time to back away if you were feeling uncomfortable with the contact. You were receptive to the kiss, your lips enveloping his in a seemingly innocent kiss before deepening the action. He explored your mouth with such eagerness, his tongue dancing along with yours in what seemed to be a sensual tango.

His mouth moved down to your shirt, looking up at you to receive some form of consent before he took it off. you nodded, his fingers doing quick work of taking it off and tossing it to the side. As he looked down at you, you couldn't help but notice the way that his eyes glinted underneath the lights. He looked at you like he was almost admiring you, admiring something that he'd only be able to have this once. His hands came to the back of your bra, unhooking it with expertise before tossing it to the side as well. His mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been deprived of the taste. His hand came to your other breast, tugging and pinching it to get the nipple as erect as the other one.

Your hand came up to his hair, your mouth slightly parted as your breathing starting to get a little heavier. You looked over at miguel to see what his reaction was, his features revealing nothing of what it was that he was feeling. "Hey, eyes on me," Peter spoke up, your attention drifting over towards him once more as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. He switched places, giving your other breast the same kind of dedication that he'd given the other one. You tugged on his hair gently as he continued to stimulate your nipples, your thighs clenching out of instinct as you felt yourself start to grow wet.

Peter kept his eyes on you as he kissed down your stomach, reaching the hem of your pants in a short time. After finding that you weren't saying no to him, he unbuttoned your pants and motioned for you to lift up your hips. You did as he asked, lifting up your hips to give him better accessibility to you. He got in between your legs, licking a stripe up your clothed cunt as a method of teasing you. "Stop teasing me Mig-," you were about to say, cutting yourself off before you finished the rest of the sentence. You'd been having sex with Miguel for so long that your mind instantly went to the default rather than the person in front of you. "Ah sorry, it's actually Peter," the man underneath you teased, his fingers gently running through the hem of your panties.

He took off your panties, your glistening cunt exposed to the two men in the room. Peter stepped back so Miguel could get a proper view, your eyes drifting over to him. He'd zipped his fly down, his hand palming at his straining cock, a clear outline shown through the black boxers that he'd chosen to wear. "Such a little slut getting wet for other men," Miguel spoke up, your brows furrowing a bit before Peter lifted your chin up to him. He enveloped your mouth in his, kissing you with such a fervor and need as his fingers slipped inside your cunt with ease. While they weren't as long and as thick as Miguel’s, they were able to reach the spots that had your toes curling in anticipation.

He pulled his hand away, getting on his stomach as he got closer to your cunt. He tentatively licked a stripe up the folds of your pussy, your fingers tangling up in his hair as you realized just how eager he seemed to be. You'd seen the way that Peter fucked up the burgers in the cafeteria, eating like a man starved, so it was no surprise that he was giving your pussy the same treatment. Peter plunged his tongue into your hole, a loud mewl escaping from you as he thrust it in and out. "You didn't tell me how tasty your girlfriend was, Miguel. You've been holding out on me," Peter mumbled, too pussy drunk to bring his face up to speak to him properly. "Enjoy her while you got her."

Your hips pushed back onto Peter’s expecting face, shamelessly grinding against his face as you tried to get yourself off. You were refraining from moaning out his name, keeping it to the simple 'oh' and the 'right there.' "Tell me who's making you feel this good, baby. Come on don't be shy," Peter cooed, his mouth clamped around your clit as he sucked on the nub. "Oh, it's you Peter," you responded, your voice sounding breathless even to your ears. You tugged on the strands of his hair harder as his fingers came inside you, working at the same pace that he was sucking your clit in. His fingers curled with the goal of finding your g-spot, soon hitting that spongy spot inside with every thrust that he took.

The balls of your feet pressed against the mattress as you came around Peter's mouth, your slick glistening across his lips and chin. He pressed a small kiss to your folds before pulling away, leaning over and kissing you once more. You looked over to see Miguel pumping his cock with his head lolled back, his finger collecting some precum on the tip of his finger and smearing it across the base to help out with the friction. Peter took off his pants, his boxers following suit before he reached over and grabbed a pillow from beside you. He angled your hips up, allowing him to thrust into you with much more ease. He slid inside slowly, giving you enough time to reject his advances if that was something you wanted to do.

Peter's cock nestled inside of you, like he was just basking in the opportunity of having his dick inside of a wet cunt once more. He slowly retracted his cock, pushing into you in one swift motion. "Such a tight pussy, your boyfriend hasn't been fucking you right?" He asked, your walls clenching against his cock like a vice. They practically engulfed his cock, forcing him to go deeper inside of you. You stayed quiet, not wanting to offend the man sitting in the corner but you heard a tut come out from Miguel. "He asked you a question, nena. Answer him," Miguel’s voice came out strained, his hand tightening around his shaft as a way to replicate the sensation of your cunt. "Somewhat, just need you to fuck me right," you responded as you played into the role, looking up at Peter with your best attempt at doe eyes.

"Such a dirty mouth. Maybe we'll have to stuff you up and see how dissatisfied you truly are after that," he told you, Miguel’s figure looming over the both of you before he approached your side. His hand came down to your breast, his thumb circling around the nipple as your hand went over to his cock, pumping him slowly. "Open," he ordered, his red eyes locked on yours as he slid his cock into your expecting mouth. You sat up a little bit to position yourself to take his cock, brushing your mouth against the sides of his shaft before taking him in your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, tasting the semi salty remnants of his precum. Peter slowly thrusted into you, trying to get you used to the sensation of having him inside of you before he sped up. "You can go faster, Peter. She can take it. Can't you, sweetheart?" You were eager to comply, your head nodding even as Miguel was speaking. Peter's thrusts sped up, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs every time that he moved forward. You moaned around Miguel’s cock, the sound coming out muffled since your mouth was completely stuffed by the sheer thickness of his length.

You moved your head further down Miguel’s cock, one of your hands reaching over to his balls as you held the sack in your hands. You gently ran your fingers through it, giving it a small massage before tugging on them slightly. His hand came to the back of your head, forcing you to take his length in deeper. You felt tears brimming at the corner of your eyes as he triggered your gag reflex, your spit coating his length as you tried to get readjusted to the feeling. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take more of him in, looking up at him as you did so. "That's it, that's it," Miguel moaned out, his eyes closing as he felt your tongue running down the underside of his cock.

Peter's hands came to your hips, holding on to them as he thrusted deeply into you. your back arched slightly as you felt him brush up against your g-spot, your mouth parted. "That's it, right there," you moaned out, your words coming out muffled from Miguel’s cock in your mouth. "Can't hear you right, princess. What was that? You wanted me to slow down?" He decided to tease you, his pace agonizingly slow as he saw the desperation coax your features. You took Miguel’s cock out of your mouth, needing him to speed up. "No, please. Go back to what you were doing before," you asked of him, tears in your eyes at the prospect of being denied an orgasm. You pushed your hips against his, trying to use his cock to your advantage but you were quickly stopped.

"So impatient, all you had to do was ask," Peter mused, his thrusts resuming to what they had been before. "You'll be a good girl for Peter, right nena?" Miguel cooed as he looked down at you, stroking your cheek ever so softly. He knew that you were too fucked out to say a word right now, but seeing you attempt to form a coherent sentence in your state was borderline adorable. "I'll be good, I'm sorry!" You spoke up, putting your mouth back on Miguel’s cock as Peter's hand came down to your clit. Your muffled moans sent vibrations all over Miguel’s body, getting him closer and closer to that edge as Peter neared to it as well.

Your cunt squeezed around his cock tightly, the all too familiar coil building up inside of you. "Please let me cum," you pleaded with him, unsure of your ability to hold it if you were denied. "Since you've been so good to me, you can cum," Peter responded, your cunt squeezing around his cock for a final time before fresh slick from your release coated his shaft. He continued to keep the same pace, working you through your orgasm and working towards his own. "Gonna get you fucking pregnant with the way you keep squeezing around me," Peter groaned out, his thigh muscles tightening as he approached his orgasm. "Like hell you are," Miguel grumbled, pushing Peter off you before he came inside.

Peter's hand wrapped around his shaft as he pumped at it, working towards replicating what he felt inside of your cunt to reach his orgasm. Ropes of cum landed on your chest and stomach, a loud moan erupting from his throat as he did. Miguel came a couple seconds after that, his cum landing on your tongue and in the corners of your mouth. You swallowed the substance, licking at your lips once he had. your attention shifting over to Peter who was already starting to get dressed to leave, tucking himself in his boxers. “I'll walk you out, Peter," Miguel told him, getting dressed as well.

You felt dirty as you were sitting down on the bed, your stomach starting to get sticky from the cum splayed on it. You got up, grabbing a towel to clean yourself up before going to the toilet, making sure to pee before you went back to bed. “We should do that again sometime," Peter told Miguel just as he was about to leave, a dark chuckle eliciting out of the other man in response. "This was a one and done deal. Do so much as look in her direction again and I'll shocking kill you. Understood?" Miguel muttered, keeping his voice quiet so you wouldn't overhear. What you did hear was when Miguel was telling him goodnight, to drive home safely.

"You okay? We didn't exert you too much or anything?" Miguel asked, approaching you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’m alright, thanks," you muttered, a little disappointed that Peter didn't even bother to look at you after he got what he needed. You figured at least as a friend, he would’ve given you a goodbye before he left. You leaned your head back into Miguel’s touch, his hands circling around your waist slowly. "I got you some of that ice cream you like, we could watch a movie and eat that if that's something you want to do," he told you, giving your forehead a small kiss before retreating to the kitchen when you agreed. Though you enjoyed the thrill of what you'd done with both Peter and Miguel, these moments wrapped up in Miguel’s arms as he held you close to him was what made you feel all fuzzy inside.

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lovewithmary · 6 months

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(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock?

previous next series masterlist

"Why are you and Charles hanging out all of a sudden?" was the first thing Max said when Evie let him into her hotel room.

She wouldn't have let him in if it wasn't for the fact that the guy was a famous F1 Driver and if people saw him waiting at the front of her hotel room, people would talk.

"What happened to hello? Hi? How was your day Evie? Or, how about 'I'm so sorry Evie for getting mad at you and ignoring me until I hang out with Charles!'" Evie remarked.

"This isn't funny, Ang," Max told her.

"So it's Ang now? I thought I was Evie," Evie snarked.

"You're being ridiculous," Max said, sitting on Evie's hotel bed.

"Max—"

"Maxie."

"What?"

"Maxie. Not Verstappen, not Maxie. Call me Maxie because you're the only one I let call me that,"

Evie had momentarily forgotten her anger at hearing that, not expecting something so sentimental to come out of Max's mouth. But she once again got angry, "What are we? Because one day you act like a boyfriend and another you call me your best friend," she said, crossing her arms.

"I don't know,"

"How can you not know? I told you I wanted to be with you but you dismissed it—"

"I did not dismiss it. But can you blame me Ang? You haven't had the best history when it comes to dating," Max cut her off.

"What does that mean?"

Once Max realized what he said, he looked shocked. Whether it was because he said it or Evie was there when he said it, she didn't know. "What do you mean I don't have the best history when it comes to dating, Max," Evie repeated.

"I've seen you go from one person to the other. I haven't seen you had a steady relationship since Peter. And you guys only broke up because you realized that he and MJ were better for each other," Max said.

"What does that have to do with you and me?"

"It has everything to do with us! Because how would I know if you're not going to be like that with me?"

"You're different Max! I would never do that!"

"You would never do that until another driver comes along to steal your attention," Max blurted out before he realized what he said.

Evie's facial expression turned from confused to angry to sad. "Is that what you think of me? Someone who's just going to throw you away when a driver catches my attention?"

"Ang—"

"No, Max. You don't get to call me that. Not after what you just said,"

"I didn't mean it—"

"You know, Max, I've been called every name in the book by media. They see me as Tony Stark's daughter and expect me to date the population of New York. But I didn't care. However, when you, my best friend, say the same thing, I can't help but think what you're saying is true,"

"Ang, I was just angry—"

"It's too late. If you truly think of me like a slut, then maybe I should be one,"

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 ig au #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #max verstappen smau #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fic #avengers crossover #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x oc #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc fic

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gh0stsp1d3r · 10 months

Note

Hello!! i LOVE your writing and I was just thinking about a quick little story of Hobie and pregnant!reader, bc I think he would just be the sweetest, AND have you seen him with mayday it’s so cute. And again your writings are so good love them keep up the good work.

Soft spot

This is everyone’s reminder that Hobies older than 18 😇 I am not trying to be cancelled for this

Warnings- pregnancy, fluffy, Peter is such a dad.

Ever since you found out you were pregnant, Hobie hasn’t let you do anything for yourself.

“Hobes, I can do it-“

“Nope. Let me cook tonight, for you and the lil’ guy.” He said, grabbing the spoon from you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Lil guy? Who said it was a guy?”

“Just my guess.“

“I hope it’s a girl because I don’t know if I can handle another man in this house.” You mumbled and sat on the couch.

Hobie just laughed.

The next day, he’s at HQ, making sure you were fine before leaving. He saw Mayday and Peter and decided to say hi.

“Hey guys.” He said when he saw mayday and Peter.

“Hey Hobie! How’ve you been?” Peter asked, and let mayday go free. Hobie grabbed her and held her.

“Been alright. What bout you?”

“That’s good. She’s a little tiring, but pretty good.” He said as he went into detail about him and MJ.

“So, how’s Y/n?”

Hobie snickered “Stubborn. Those pregnancy hormones.”

“Yeah I know what you mean. But in the end.. it’s honestly all worth it, Y’Know? I think you’re going to be a great dad.” Peter said with a small smile as he grabbed mayday again.

“Thanks.. alright, I’ll see you around.”

“See you.” Peter waved, and mayday waved as well as they walked past him.

Hobie replayed those words in his head, he really hoped it would all be worth it in the end. And he hoped he would be a good dad.

❀❀❀❀❀

Even if he’d never say it, he had a soft spot for you and the child, who you found out was a girl.

“Told you it wouldn’t be a boy.” You snickered once you left the hospital, baby girl in Hobies arms.

“I’m happy with both my girls.” He shrugged, looking at her with admiration, not believing that you both had brought a literal human into the world.

“You really are gonna be the best dad.” You said before you entered the car.

He looked up at you and saw you smiling. Peter was right.

———————————————

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@techta @1eonk @chipstermation6 @whosace16 @ @l-pandamatic-l

@spider-phoenix @zebralover @my-melo-gf @wiz-te-ria @tzuyuzzs @luvsaluv @mxkn

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@chaoticevilbakugo

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider man across the spider verse #spider punk #spider punk x reader

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spider-stark · 1 month

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INFINITELY YOU

part one // back at the beginning

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. all versions of peter are between the ages of 19-23 in this story. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 5.4k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // playlist // no way home fan fiction //

The world seemed to slip out from under you, fracturing beneath your feet and leaving you to sink into a deep, dark hole.

It was quiet—so unbearably quiet—and the tension between you and your estranged friends had become so thick that you feared it would soon take form and seep into your lungs. Maybe that would be for the best, you thought, wondering if suffocating on your collective grief would somehow be easier than whatever came next.

“Aunt May…” You sputtered, unable to force the words out. Shaking your head, you asked, “Are you sure?”

God, what a stupid question. You almost wanted to slap yourself for asking something so mindless.

Ned’s lips pressed into a thin line, trying to swallow his own sorrow. “I wish we weren’t,” he said with a small, wistful chuckle, still too shocked to fully acknowledge the gravity of it all. “But… yeah, we’re sure. She’s… She’s gone.”

Your heart sank, unable to think of the right string of words to form a reply.

With your mind reeling, you couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that this was some sort of cruel joke–the kind where the punchline would never quite hit. But all it took was one look at the red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks of Ned and Mj to know that they were telling the truth.

She was dead—Aunt May was dead.

And, somehow, it seemed as though that wasn’t even the worst part of the mess your friends had gotten themselves in.

“I know that it’s a lot to take in all at once,” Ned started back up, perhaps noticing the way the color seemed to drain from your face. “If you need me to go back over it or explain anything then I can-”

You stopped listening to him, staring blankly at the doormat beneath their feet. They hadn’t even bothered to come inside your apartment, too panicked to waste any time before delving into the details about Doctor Strange and the multiverse and other Spider-Man’s.

But honestly, you didn’t care about any of that.

You didn’t care about string theory or whatever multiversal villains had apparently slipped into your world—because you couldn’t stop thinking about what Ned had said about how May died. It hurt to think about it, the shrapnel and debris that had torn her flesh, the glider that had punctured her side and left her bleeding out in Peter’s arms…

Aunt May had died a horrific and brutal death, and you weren’t sure that there would ever be any way for you to come to terms with that.

“Peter,” you finally spoke, fire raging in your eyes as you looked at Ned. “Where is Peter?”

He spared Mj a sidelong glance, as if silently asking for her permission to answer. Frustration began to prick your skin, crawling up your spine as your stare turned harsh, offended that he didn’t just tell you outright. You knew that things between the four of you hadn’t ended well, but this…

Mj crossed her arms, looking almost as frustrated as you were with Ned’s choice to look to her for permission, and decided to answer in his place.

“Downstairs,” she told you, her tone purposefully clipped as a way to show that the wounds sustained in the downfall of your friendship had not yet healed–and you didn’t care, because you knew that yours hadn’t either.

“Is he…” you trailed off, not sure how to say it. If May’s death had been so brutal, then God knows what kind of injuries Peter might’ve sustained in the fight?

But you didn’t have to speak, because whether the two of you liked it or not, you had been friends—and she always knew what you were thinking. “He’s safe,” she told you, quelling your nerves just a little. A reluctant sigh slipped her lips, shaking her head as she added, “But he’s not okay.”

You knew what she meant—physically Peter had survived the fight with this Goblin man that they had told you about, but mentally…

You understood why she was hesitant to tell you about it, too. Of the three of you, there was only one that had ever been able to delve down into the depths of Peter’s trauma and help him claw his way back out of the gnawing pit that threatened to consume him—and it wasn’t either of them.

And, just as Mj knew you, you knew her.

She didn’t want you around Peter, not anymore—and so if she was willingly telling you that he wasn’t okay, then it meant that she knew how much he truly needed you right now.

“You guys should’ve told me sooner,” you grit your teeth, desperately trying to bite back against the resentment rising in your throat. “You should’ve told me as soon as all of this started, instead of waiting until everything went to shit.”

It wasn’t your intention to sound bitter, but that didn’t stop you from coming across that way. Ned recoiled from your tone like a blow, but you didn’t have it in you to feel guilty right now.

They had been dealing with all of this multiversal crisis bullshit for nearly a week now—and yet none of them had thought to say a single word to you until now. And while you knew that your presence likely wouldn’t have changed the course of events that had unfolded, it still hurt.

And it still made you angry.

“What do you need me to do?” You asked after realizing that neither of them intended to respond to your sharp statement.

“Well,” Ned started, nervously rubbing his sweaty palms against his khakis, “it’s gonna take us some time to figure out where the villains are hiding, and even longer to work out what to do with them. And, since these other Peter’s have dealt with these guys before, we could really use their help…”

He trailed off, once again looking to Mj, this time to silently urge her to finish his sentence.

She rolled her eyes. “We need you to let them stay here.”

Your brows furrowed, glancing between the two of them as if once again waiting for some sort of punchline to hit. It didn’t.

“It might take us a bit–a few weeks, maybe—to find all of them and stop them. And now that Happy’s complex was literally blown to pieces, we don’t have anywhere for the two of them to stay while they help out.” Mj tried to explain. She looked defeated when she said, “We didn’t know who else we could go to that would actually understand.”

Understand.

If you weren’t still reeling from everything they had just told you, then you probably would have laughed at the word. You would hardly say that you understood what was going on—but you knew what she was getting.

Mj’s dad would hardly allow two random men to stay in his house with them, and Ned’s Lola probably wasn’t too keen on the idea either. With Happy’s place destroyed, they had nowhere left to turn.

You weren’t sure how to feel now that you knew they had only come to you because you were their last choice.

At the risk of aggravating Mj, you said, “I wanna talk to Peter.”

“I don’t know if now’s a good time,” Mj swiftly shot back. “I told you that’s he’s not okay—”

“But he’s here,” you stated, nodding your head towards the stairs somewhere behind them that led back down to the lobby. “And you’re insane if you think I’m gonna agree to let two random ass men stay in my house without at least knowing what his plan is.”

Mj bristled at the harshness of your tone; and so did you.

You weren’t used to this.

Mj had been your friend for far longer than she had been whatever she was to you now, and neither of you were used to this—to your once special connection being reduced to nothing more than strained conversations and fractured feelings towards one another.

“Fine,” Mj surrendered, her hands lifting slightly. “Do whatever you want.”

It wasn’t until then that you realized that you had been waiting for her permission, even though you didn’t believe you truly needed it. Peter was your friend—and he had been your friend long before he even knew Mj. If you wanted to talk to him, then you had every right to.

Yet you still hadn’t been able to will yourself to push between the two of them until she had spoken, side-stepping to let you pass. When you started descending the stairs to the lobby, you were shocked that neither she nor Ned followed, offering you a sense of privacy with Peter that you hadn’t expected—as if she still held some shred of trust in you.

You didn’t want to think about it though, unsure of how you felt about that, too.

Halfway down the dank stairway of your complex, you felt a shiver dance along your spine. It prickled your skin and set your nerves on edge, but it didn’t catch you off guard. You always felt this way when Peter was around—as if your body could always sense when he was around, even when you hadn’t yet seen him.

The last step creaked when you placed your weight onto it, and from across the poorly maintained lobby, Peter’s neck snapped in your direction at the sound.

It felt like ice skittered across your bones at the sight of him, your heart lurching against your ribcage.

You had gotten used to seeing Peter battered and bruised years ago. Even before he became Spider-Man, he often found himself the victim of bullies and assholes, rarely going more than a few weeks without a busted lip or a new bruise. But this…

This was different, somehow.

It wasn’t just the blood-stained suit that set your heart racing, nor was it the lacerated skin or his sweat-matted hair. No, those things were normal—in the same way that being bitten by a radioactive spider was normal.

It was even normal to see him standing before you, his chin high and shoulders back, presenting a perfect image of strength even after experiencing something as traumatic as losing May.

Peter’s relationship with trauma had been intimate enough these past few years that you weren’t shocked to see him like this, standing tall rather than balling up and crying on the floor. You figured that was what most others would do if they were in his situation.

But Peter wasn’t like other people.

Peter was a hero—and if you had learned anything about heroes in your lifetime, it was that they were incredible liars.

His eyes couldn't lie, though.

Bloodshot and ringed with exhaustion, his eyes were what had made you feel so sick, your stomach twisting itself into knots.

They lacked the life and hope of the boy you had loved so dearly, replaced with something like rage—a pure, unbridled and unrelenting type of rage. Looking at him now you couldn’t ignore the burning talon that seemed to rake against your mind, filling your brain with thoughts you didn’t want to think right now—telling you that looking at Peter now, with the light draining from his eyes, was the same as looking in a mirror.

“Peter,” a metallic tang danced on your tongue as you dug your teeth into your cheek, biting back against the tears threatening to well-up in your eyes.

Letting your instincts guide you, you rushed across the lobby to where he stood by the front door, reaching for his hand without a second thought.

His suit had been torn along his palm, and as you felt the warmth radiating from his calloused skin, you tried to take some comfort in the fact that at least he had survived—even if you still weren’t ready to accept that May hadn’t.

“Don’t,” He yanked his hand back from you, his voice hoarse. “Don’t say you’re sorry.”

You froze for half a heartbeat, your hand hanging awkwardly in-between the two of you. “I wasn’t going to.”

You weren’t sure if you were telling the truth, but it didn’t seem to matter either way.

Either way, you tried to understand his reaction, even as you winced from the sting of rejection. What good would an apology really do for a boy who had already lost everything?

It wouldn’t bring the light back to his eyes.

It wouldn’t bring May back to life.

“Ned told me everything,” you told him, unwilling or unable to say Mj’s name right now. You clenched and unclenched your fists, painfully aware of the absence of his warmth. “You know I’ll do anything I can to help, so just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it.”

Peter scoffed, his jaw tensing. “We both know that what I want doesn’t matter,” he said bluntly. Motioning to your surroundings, he continued, “If what I wanted mattered, then we wouldn’t even be here. We wouldn’t be asking for your help—wouldn’t be dragging another person into this and asking them to risk their life!”

You did your best not to react, knowing that he hadn’t meant it quite as bad as it sounded. It already hurt knowing that you had been Mj and Ned’s last choice for help, but knowing that Peter didn’t want you to be a choice at all hurt far worse—even if it was to keep you safe.

“Well, you’re here now,” you told him, keeping your voice steady. “So you might as well tell me what your plan is—or at least tell me how long I’ll need to play bunkmates with strangers.”

You were lying when you had told Mj and Ned that you needed to talk to Peter before agreeing to let the alternate Spider-Men stay in your apartment—you didn’t care about housing with strangers, aware that there was nothing they could do to you that you haven't endured before.

Selfishly, you had just wanted a reason to come down and talk to him. To see him. To know that he was alive. You didn’t care about anything else.

Sometimes you worried that you didn’t even care about your own life, only Peter’s.

But Peter cared about your life—far more than you would ever want him to.

“My plan doesn’t matter,” he said, his tone clipped, “cause I don’t want you getting involved. And I definitely don’t want you to let those guys stay here, alright? We don’t know them.”

You steeled yourself, resisting the urge to argue with him and instead asking a simple question. “Do you have anywhere else for them to go?”

He didn’t respond, huffing out a breath, already frustrated with the defiance he knew you were about to display.

“You might not want my help, but if Ned’s right–” you told him, gesturing backwards towards the staircase, “–which he usually is—then you’re gonna need these guys.”

“But that doesn’t mean we need you,” Peter protested gruffly.

Your chest tightened, but you kept shoving back against the hurt. Later, you would deal with that later.

“It doesn’t matter if you need me,” you retorted with a defiant tilt of your chin, unwavering as his rageful gaze seemed to pierce through your skull, “because you’re stuck with me either way.”

You hadn’t expected the statement to affect him, but it did, his voice softening slightly. “I always have been.”

“Exactly. So you might as well make this easy on the both of us and not fight me on it,” you declared, trying to conjure up the most convincing smile you could offer. “Let me help, Peter.”

A sigh slipped his lips, heavy with reluctant resignation as he realized he wasn’t winning this battle. “We’ve already lost so many people… I’ve lost so many people. And there’s already enough blood on my hands,” he said, lifting his hands to display the torn, blood-stained fabric, driving his point home. “It doesn’t matter what I say—so let them stay here or don’t, I don’t care. But just know that whatever happens to you, it’s not on me. Because I told you to stay out of it, alright?”

He took a step closer, and you didn’t dare move a single muscle as his lips hovered just inches from your own. “Do whatever you want,” his voice was barely a whisper, laced with a venomous edge that nearly made you tremble, “but don’t expect me to come running to save you when it all goes to shit.”

His words hung in the air like a curse, lingering in the lobby for far longer than he did. As soon as the promise had left his lips, he was already turning on his heel and shoving the door open, abandoning you in the dim space.

You knew better than to think he meant it.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

You stuck your hands beneath the running faucet, scrubbing the blood from a jagged cut on your palm. It wasn’t all that deep, shallow enough that it probably wouldn't even leave a scar once healed. When you were done rinsing it, you cupped your hands and gathered the water in them, splashing your reddened cheeks.

Crying would have been a normal part of grieving for May, and when you forced yourself to look back at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t help but wish that you could’ve been a little more normal.

But tears hadn’t been the cause of your flushed appearance—no, because you had never been very good at expressing the more delicate emotions, like sadness.

You were good at expressing anger, though.

You were very good at expressing anger.

After Peter had stormed out of the lobby and abandoned you to choke on his cruel promise, it had taken you several minutes to work up the nerve to go back upstairs and face Mj and Ned. By some stroke of luck you had managed to keep a tight leash on your often volatile attitude, telling them your decision to let the other Peter’s stay with you.

And then you lost control as soon as they left, loosening the reins on your anger and taking the uncomfortable feelings out on a nearby potted plant, shouting curses as you tossed it at the wall.

By the time you thought to clean it up, after finishing another string of irate profanities, your hands had been shaking so bad that you cut yourself on one of the dirt-covered shards. And maybe, once you felt the jagged ceramic dig into your palm, you should’ve hissed or cursed more or stopped cleaning to patch yourself up.

But you didn’t. You stayed quiet, continuing to pluck the shattered fragments off the floor until you had gotten them all, dumping them into the trash before grabbing the broom and dustpan and cleaning the dirt and scattered leaves, too.

There were more important things to deal with than cleaning a dirty wound.

Like making sure none of your friends could see that you weren’t nearly as composed as you tried to seem.

The familiar rhythmic rapping of Mj’s knuckles against the front door made you forgo the bandage you were going to fix to your palm, tossing the rag you’d used to dry your face into the sink and heading straight to the living room.

Carefully shoving your injured hand into your pocket, you opened the door and tried not to look surprised when Peter wasn’t standing in-between Mj and Ned. Of course he hadn’t come with them—why would he? He had already made it clear how he felt about all of this.

It did become significantly harder to mask your shock however when a tall, messy haired boy stepped into view from behind them, clad in a crimson and cobalt webbed suit.

“Get inside,” you hissed a bit harsher than intended, stepping aside and waving the three of them into your apartment.

The last thing you needed was your neighbors seeing an unmasked, alternate version of Spider-Man standing in front of your door. It had already been risky enough that Peter had come here in his suit, standing in the lobby and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Once they were inside, you shut the door and turned to Ned. “I thought you said there were two of them,” you noted, avoiding looking at the lanky Spider-Man who seemed just as desperate to avoid you, busying himself with walking around the room and studying the art on the walls.

Ned shrugged. “He didn’t wanna come.”

“Not that he didn’t want to come,” Mj pointedly corrected him, frowning at his bluntness. “He just wanted to keep patrolling. The Goblin, the one who…” she cut herself off, unable to force the words off her tongue. Scrapping the sentence altogether, she started again, “The Goblin’s from his world, so he seemed to think that he had the best chance of hunting him down. But we gave him the address.”

You didn’t bother giving her an actual response, a subtle nod the only sign you had heard her at all. She didn’t seem to care much, just as unsure of what to say to you as you were to her.

“So,” Ned clicked his tongue, trying to cut through the growing tension. “This is Peter 3!” He announced, gesturing to the other Peter, who was picking up a frame that had been face down on an end table. “That’s what we’re calling him, at least. Y’know, to tell them apart. The other one is Peter 2.”

You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Creative.”

Done dawdling over Ned and Mj, you forced yourself to look at the un-masked hero from another world. He was placing the frame back onto the table—not face down, as he had found it, but up-right. You frowned at the photograph it displayed, a picture of you, Ned, Mj, and Peter from sometime last year.

“You’re awfully nosy,” you told him, your voice like ice.

His muscles tensed, hesitating as he faced your gaze. “Sorry,”

His voice was slightly deeper than Peter’s, his hair a shade or two darker, his features a bit less soft, but still noticeably young, putting him in his early twenties at most. Truthfully, if it weren’t for the suit he was wearing, you would’ve never guessed that he was supposed to be the Peter Parker of another world.

You had expected him to be more… Peter-like, in appearance, and yet as far as you could tell the resemblances were very slight, if they even existed at all.

The mannerisms were there, though. The subtleties of Peter Parker, the things that most people never noticed and yet were ingrained in your mind. He licked his lips, a nervous tic that left you always carrying chapstick in your pocket. His hands hung at his sides and you saw the way his thumb tapped against each of his fingers, starting with his index and ending with his pinky, only to start over again.

Watching him, taking note of every familiar twitch and tic and habit, made something in your chest tighten.

And, when you told him your name, it was as if your icy tone had melted altogether. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a moment you thought he wouldn’t respond, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly, eyes darting around the room. But then, suddenly, he gave you a weak smile. “You too.” A trace of amusement laced his response, too subtle for you to detect.

“We’ve gotta go,” Ned suddenly spoke, jutting a thumb towards the door. “Peter’s waiting outside so he can make sure we get home safe, but-” he stopped, brows furrowing as considered whether he should finish. “But text us later, okay? Just to let us know that you’re okay.”

Your heart stuttered at the mention of Peter’s name, at knowing that he actually had come—even if it hadn’t been for you—but you didn’t mention it.

Instead, you focused on Ned, giving your sweet friend the kindest smile you could muster—which, admittedly, didn’t feel like much. Despite everything that had happened with your friends in the past few months, your fight had never been with Ned. He was just caught in the middle, unfairly forced to pick sides.

And you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him for picking Peter. Not when you knew that you would’ve done the same.

“I will,” you promised.

Ned gave you an equally somber smile before opening the door to leave. Even once Ned was in the hall, already descending the staircase, Mj lingered in the entryway—not for long, a heartbeat, maybe—turning back towards you just long enough to mutter, “Keep your guard up.”

You didn’t have a chance to say anything back to her before she let the door slam shut, following quickly after Ned and leaving you alone with… this guy.

The other Peter had abandoned his spot by the end table, seemingly done with investigating your apartment and left to do nothing but stand awkwardly a few feet away from you, clearly unsure of what to do or say now that it was just the two of you.

“So,” you breathed out, popping your lips. “Peter 3, yeah? Good name. You go by that back home, too?”

He laughed, a suit-clad hand nervously rising to the back of his neck. “Uh–yeah, no, definitely not. Just plain ole’ Peter Parker over there.”

The nervous energy radiating from the boy almost seemed contagious as you started to pick at your nails. “Do you have a nickname?”

He blinked, looking as if he hadn’t heard a word you said. “Sorry, what?”

“A nickname,” you repeated, only for your brows to then furrow. “You have those where you’re from, don’t you? Nicknames? Like, you know, something you go by other than your actual name?”

“Oh! Yes—sorry, yes we have nicknames in my world,” he exclaimed, his pale skin starting to flush.

“I just thought that this whole numerical system thing that Ned’s going with to keep track of who’s who seems a little dehumanizing, yeah?”

“For sure,” he agreed, sucking on his lip as he nodded along with you.

You gave him a second, waiting and waiting for an answer to your apparently long-forgotten question, before asking, “So… Do you have one?”

The slight blush that had tinged his skin instantly darkened, suddenly the same shade of crimson as his suit. His grip on the back of his neck tightened, too, his fingertips prodding into his own skin.

“Sorry-” he apologized for the millionth time, more nervous laughter spilling out alongside it, “I do! I mean, sort of, I think. I don’t know if it’s really a nickname, but back in my world you really just called me by my last name most of the time anyway, so–I don’t know—maybe that would work?”

The sheer quantity of word vomit spewing from his mouth was impressive and likely hard-to-follow for most, but you consider yourself a bit of an expert in the anxious ramblings of Peter Parker.

“In your world?” You echoed, instantly catching the subtle mention. “We know each other?”

Maybe it shouldn’t have been shocking to learn that there were other versions of you throughout the multiverse as well, and yet it was. You figured that it was plausible, of course, considering that two variations of Peter had just been thrown into your world, but for some reason it just didn’t feel right.

You reasoned that anyone would feel that way, though.

“Yeah,” the boy, Parker, answered, a bit clipped. “We do.”

“Interesting.” Your brows lifted, “Are we friends?”

Parker scrunched his nose, his head tilting slightly.

“Yeah,” his voice was an octave higher than before, and if you knew him better, then you likely would’ve called him on the obvious tell. But you didn’t know him, and so you didn’t say anything when he decided to double-down on the lie, “Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Well I guess that means that this is just as weird for you as it is for me, then.” You laughed, trying to add some humor to the situation.

Parker gave a tightlipped smile. “Definitely weird.”

The seconds felt like they stretched into minutes after that, silently racking your brain for something to say, hoping that he might say something—but, eventually, you settled on offering an escape from the situation instead.

“You’re probably exhausted from the whole multiversal travel thing, so if you want, I can just show you the guest room and give you some privacy or something,” you told him, vaguely gesturing towards the hallway.

Parker seemed to relax a bit at the prospect of being alone, loosing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Uhm–yeah, that’d be great, actually.”

He followed you down the short hall, his hand finally falling from his neck and his skin returning to its normal complexion as his nerves began to wane.

“This is it,” you told him, the hinges crying out as you shoved the door open. “It’s not much, but it’s somewhere to sleep, at least.”

Wasn’t much felt like an understatement, though the room was typical for a New York apartment.

A tad bigger than your average shoebox, there was just enough space to fit a full-sized bed, a small armoire, and a single nightstand adorned with an old desk lamp and a little pink teddy bear—a gift from Peter, years ago.

Parker walked into the room, looking around and brushing his fingertips against the emerald quilt. It was a bit old and somewhat thin, but it was better than nothing you supposed, and Parker certainly didn’t seem like he was going to complain about it.

“It’s great,” he assured you, and even though he did sound genuine, you couldn’t help but snort. He looked over at where you still stood in the doorway, giving you a timid smile as he said, “Way better than sleeping on the streets.”

You returned the gesture, lazily lifting a shoulder. “We’ll see if you still feel that way in the morning. That mattress is about a hundred years old, so it’s probably the equivalent of sleeping on really lumpy cement.”

Parker hummed his amusement, carefully perching on the edge of the bed, his smile seeming to deepen when he caught sight of the little bear on the nightstand.

“I guess I’ll let you get some sleep,” you told him, reaching for the door handle, “if you need anything—extra blankets, or something—just let me know; my room’s right across the hall.”

He muttered his thanks, but as you went to pull the door closed, you heard your name fall from his lips. It was strange sounding, strangled and foreign, like he didn’t quite know how to say it. When you turned back to face him, a subtle wince seemed to etch across his face.

“Can I… Can I ask you something?” Parker stammered out the question, his voice faltering like a candle flame in the wind.

You nodded once, fingers still wrapped around the knob, savoring the coolness of the brass against the now-clotted wound on your palm.

He took a breath, his gaze momentarily flickering back to the teddy bear on the nightstand. His thoughts felt heavy on his tongue as he tried to force them out of his mouth, “Are you happy?”

You blinked at him, unsure of what to make of the hope that seemed to cling to each syllable and half-wondering if you’d heard him right.

“I-” you tried to start, only to realize that you had no clue what to say.

There was a fleeting moment where you realized that you could tell him the truth. You could tell him that happiness felt like a distant shore far from your reach, forever obscured by the fiery tempest of a brutal and ancient rage—a rage that, sometimes, didn’t even feel like your own.

But then he looked at you with those big, expectant eyes; eyes that should have been foreign to you, and yet felt so familiar—and you realized that he wouldn’t like that answer.

Sucking in a breath, you evaded his question as best you could. “Ask me again when all of this is over,” you told him, your lips curving into a soft, playful arc, “and maybe I’ll tell you the truth.”

This time when you went to close the door, he didn’t stop you.

series masterlist

a/n - i wish that i could properly express just how amazing (and terrifying) it has been to rewrite this story. first created at quite possibly the lowest point of my life, infinitely you has provided me with a necessary escape at a time when i desperately needed it. now that i'm in a better position, i found it necessary to give it the plot, writing style, and dedication that it deserved. i'm aware some people might not be interested in a rewrite and that's ok, but for those that are i just wanna say: thank you, thank you, thank you for giving infinitely you (and me) another shot. you're incredible.

if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, just let me know! as of right now, chapters will be posted every other monday, though i may switch that to weekly soon!

part two, titled "crullers & constants", to be released april 1st

387 notes · View notes

lxverrings · 20 days

Note

Hola!

It's been a while I know 💀

I just have something in my head and can't get my head out of it. Just hear me out- 😭

Spider!Reader being Miles', Gwen's and Mayday's work-mom (basically their mom at work). Reader just loves kids (haha can't relate 💀) and is a natural mother.

Miguel realizes that he wants needs to put a baby in Reader asap. (Breeding kink basically)

- Solecito (aka. Spanish anon 🇪🇸)

Me coming right back to life from how GOOD this ask is... Holy shit you put me in a mood 🥲

Motherly Instinct.

A Miguel O’hara drabble ; MDNI, NSFW under the cut!

Summary: What Solecito said, except I took the creative liberty to ensure reader speaks Spanish and also Mayday kind of has MJ (/other variations of her) so I’m going to add Pav and Hobie!!! Also reader isn’t necessarily a spider-person but def in the medical part of the spider society, so you go ahead with your little imagination <3

R/N: this put me in such a mood I need to find more fics like this smh and extra note, I feel you Solecito, I HATE TODDLERS!!!! babies are fine, so are teens, but TODDLERS??? TODDLERS???? my patience is thin... But I personally would like kids and especially with Miguel O’hara...

Warnings: NSFW under cut!!!! Obviously breeding kink warnings, mating press ig, Miguel physically cannot get his hands off reader...

——

You’ve been in the society for quite a while now. From Miguel’s start to the shablam with Miles and the final acceptance of the boy into the society, even if Miguel was a bit sour about it...

Either way, it’s been long enough so that Miguel put a ring on that finger...

For the time being, your husband hasn’t had time to discuss babies, which is something that you’ve been thinking about, and subtly (not) been bringing up. He promises that someday in the future.

Well, someday is still too far away.

You’ve been at least calming your raging baby fever by talking with the younger spiders and doing your best to take care of their occasional reckless behavior...

“Hey! Heyyy!!! I told you I was fine!” Gwen puffed as she was bandaged up from the shards of glass due to her impromptu landing, Hobie just chuckled— probably his idea...— more than anything to land that way.

“Oi, “ma’...” do me a favo’ ’n check on my ’vitr, thanks, luv.” he mused, he seemed unfazed, despite the wraps tied around his wrists and arms.

“Will do, Hobie...” you smiled warmly, nodding at the younger spider, while Miles nervously fidgeted. “Miles...” you began before you gently patted his arm, “It’s okay, don’t worry.” you smiled reassuringly, trying to soothe his nerves— seeing Gwen and Pavitr get hurt like that, definitely must have altered the nerves in the young man.

“I know... I just... I guess I’m nervous. I would talk it out with mí mamí, but I guess I just... Well. It’s nice talking to you, not lie a replacement, but... Like a supplement? Wait... No that sounds wrong...” he mumbled— which got him out of that loop.

“You sound like a gym bro...” Pavitr finally giggled. Hobie let out a small sigh of relief and chuckled.

“Swolemates, huh?” Hobie chuckled, you rolled your eyes and smiled at them, the little group of preteens filled the room with easy chatter.

You smiled and nodded at them, unaware of Miguel’s gaze from the sight of the cameras that filled the screens of his monitoring.

Honestly, Miguel wasn’t paying much attention, until Lyla’s alarming noises went off.

“What the shock, Lyla?!”

The snarky hologram just smirked, “Oh nothing.”

“I just wanted to show you this!” she chirped with a smile.

He just rolled his eyes for a while— until the screen lit up with your face and the chit-chats with the younger spiders.

Mom? Ma?

Fuck.

He was so down bad.

Embarrassing, really, wasn’t it?

Either way, Miguel just stood and grumbled.

“Lyla. Shock. Call her in.”

“C’monn...”

“Shut the shock up and call her in!”

“C’mon! C’mon!”

“Please, can you just shocking—”

“Yeah, I already called her.” Lyla smirked as Miguel grumbled and swatted her off.

“Boss got you on track, huh ma?” Hobie smirked as you smiled nervously and swatted him off.

“I bet it’s not important...” you mused before Lyla interrupted.

“It’s very important!!!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure everything is okay? Maybe it’s important— but in a good way?” Gwen offered with a small smile and tilted her head quietly.

“Don’t be that way,” Miles muttered, but he shuddered, perhaps he was getting the PTSD that Miguel put him through.

“You are all such pessimists! The passion is palpable, how can you concentrate when our big bad boss is in loooove?” Pavitr quickly shot back in absolute delight.

You shooed them off with a smile before retreating to Miguel’s... Lair. If you could call it that. Office? Same thing.

You walked off quickly, and entered his office. If you could call it that.

Miguel watched you sternly and crossed his arms as he stalked over your smaller form

“Hola, Miguelito!”

“Ay. You’re finally here.” he grumbled, putting his large hand on the top of your head, pushing back stray locks of hair to kiss your forehead.

You smiled warmly, unaware of the daunting gaze he held on you.

“I have to ask something of you.” he mumbled as he lightly peppered your face in kisses, “És muy importante...”*

“Lo que tú quieras...”*

He stared down for a moment.

“Quiero un bebé.”*

Oh.

You stared up at him nervously, your face flushed as your hands twittered together, and you gazed nervously up at him, “Oh?”

“Shock.” he hissed and held your chin as his kisses became more passionate, “Wanna get you pregnant, I want to give you a little baby. A little baby that looks like you, shock. You would make such a good mommy. Cuidando chamacos qué ni son tuyos... Y lo hacés tan bién...”*

Your breath hitched but you smiled up at him, “Me gustaría tener un bebé contigo...”*

The bed screeched underneath the brutal pace Miguel was going at, how many hours had it been?

Fuck.

Your clammy hands pulling at the sheets and the hiccups and tears that left your eyes as he pounded over and over again.

His tip prodding at your abused cervix, the harsh little veins scratching at your sweetest spots, and the scruffiness of his happy trail scratching at your little pearl of nerves.

God knows how many orgasms you had, your ankles over his shoulders as he bent you in half had your squelching cunt shaking and twitching as tears left your eyes at rapid paces.

“Dios. Ay! Miguel, por favor—Sisisi— ay! Ahí! Ahí!”* you begged in tears, both of you reduced to mingled Spanish as he gruffed and grunted.

“Te voy a llenar otraves, así te gusta. Sí. Tómalo todo. No dejes qué sé salga nada. Te voy a llenar de bebés. Te voy a dejar redonda y hinchada, hasta qué quedes bién embarazada y tengas mí bebé. Hasta qué grites de tan sensible y débil qué estés...”* he hissed back and kissed you with a stronger passion.

He was relentless with his pace as his fingers worked your nipples and he mused something about getting to drink from your swollen boobs, and getting to dress you in maternity clothes— how he couldn’t wait to watch it work wonders on your body. And how well he would take care of you with his baby. How his spoiled little wife would get nothing but the best, and have her with the most beautiful baby imaginable.

No mercy was bestowed on your poor body and less so that night. Your poor cunt was seeping his essence, and every time that a single drop leaked, he gave you another round until you passed out, only to fall asleep to his gentle praises and his gentle caresses.

Because he wouldn’t have it any other way; you would make the perfect mommy, and god was he lucky, that ring on your finger was absolutely perfect...

But what would make this more perfect? A little baby in your arms.

Surely, as soon as the baby was here, it wouldn’t be very long until he wanted another.

♡

Translations:

It’s very important...

Whatever you want.

I want a baby.

Taking care of rascals that aren’t even yours... And you do it so well...

I would like to have a baby with you...

There, there!

I’m going to fill you up again. That’s how you like it. Yes. Take it all. Don’t let anything spill out. I’m going to fill you with babies. I’m going to leave you round and swollen. Until you’re pregnant and you have my baby. Until you scream from how sensitive and weak you are...

#atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #dom miguel o’hara #dom!miguel o’hara

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