#spider man angst

[hurtspideyparker]

I Don't Smoke by Mitski with Peter Parker & Tony Stark in SPIDER-MAN: HOMECOMING

#spider man #peter parker #tony stark #irondad and spiderson #iron man #peter parker angst #marvel mcu #spiderman #spider man homecoming #spider man angst #peter parker whump

[daisies-daydreams]

Oml, hi! I absolutely adore your work, like read everything on Ao3 then came here to read more lol-

Anyway, I was wondering if you could do a Hobie x m!reader where reader is feeling super insecure after a long day at work and tells Hobie about it, then Hobie basically worships reader and all of his insecurities? I noticed you tend to do either gn or fem readers so I hope this request isn’t unreasonable..?

Thank you so much, keep doing you cause that’s what we love,

Bye <3

Hold Me (Hobie Brown x M!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x M!Reader Category: Fluff/Angst Warnings: Swearing, Depictions of Self-Deprecation/Insecurities, Burnout, Toxic Workplaces Word Count: 1.3k+

A/N: Hello! Thank you so so much for your kind words 🥹 Your request is definitely not unreasonable-I just tend to stick with GN or fem! reader since that’s what interests me the most (though I’m always open to write for other pairings!) Also, I love your icon 😻. I hope you enjoy!

You ran your hand down your face as you slammed the door behind you. Your entire body ached with exhaustion as you slipped your shoes off and chucked them across the foyer of your flat. Your boyfriend, Hobie, leaned across the couch as you walked into the living room.

“Hey, love. How was-“

“It was fine,” you answered curtly. You felt a pang inside your chest at your sudden bluntness, but your body felt like it was on auto-pilot as you shuffled into the bathroom. You locked the door behind you before curling your fingers against your ears. Hot tears threatened to spill from your tired, red eyes as you peeled off your clothes. You quickly hopped in the shower, the emotional dread and fatigue of the day slowly seeping into your bones. You scrubbed yourself clean as you choked on your sobs, the events of the day replaying in your head like a broken record.

You shivered when you stepped out and dried off, the stress of the day making your body feel heavier by the second. You shuffled to your shared bedroom across the hall and hastily pulled on some comfy sweats and t-shirt. A tall shadow cast over you as you pulled your shirt over your head.

“Rough day?” Hobie asked. You hung your head and nodded. He hummed in reply. “Want to-“ you cut his words off when you rushed over and wrapped your arms around him. Hobie sighed and splayed his hand over your back. “Oh, love,” he cooed as he rubbed your lower back. He held you as you soaked his shoulder with bitter tears, his warm body bringing at least a little comfort to your aching heart.

“I-I’m sorry I was rude to you earlier,” you sniffed. Hobie pulled back and kissed your forehead.

“It’s alright,” he assured you. You wiped your eyes.

“I fucked up today, Hobes,” you said in a shaky voice. Hobie’s chocolate brown eyes softened as he held you close. He kept his hand on your hip before tilting his head towards the bed.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked. “If you think it’ll help, that is,” Hobie added. You nodded with a long sigh.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He hummed and slid his hand into yours before leading you towards the queen-sized bed. You swallowed thickly as you sank onto the mattress. Hobie grunted as he sat next to you, one and draped over his thigh and the other wrapped around yours. Your knuckles turning pale as you squeezed his palm. You took a slow, deep breath.

“We had our monthly reviews today and my boss was very…thorough with me,” you began. Hobie remained silent, allowing you the space to continue at your own pace. You sighed. “She said that I’m not trying hard enough, that I’m not progressing as quickly as everyone else at the branch,” you huffed and clenched your jaw. “She just looked so frustrated and disappointed in me. And then I had a customer call in demanding that we return his money, that he’s being ‘scammed’. I tried to explain the situation to him, but he just ended up screaming and cussing me out,” you explained.

“Then I dropped my lunch and didn’t have enough time to grab a full meal, so I had crisps from the vending machine. And to top it all off, my coworkers have been gossiping about me being a…” you couldn’t even finish the sentence, a hard lump swelling in your throat. You groaned you caged your hands over your face. “Why can’t I do anything right?” you choked. “I thought I was doing such a good job when I first started…so why am I struggling so much right now?" you clenched your fist. "Why am I so fucking stupid?” you cursed.

“Hey, you’re not stupid, alright?” Hobie said firmly. You shook your head.

“Yes, I am. If I was just more intelligent and organized then people wouldn’t be so upset with me,” you said as your cheeks burned. “But even then, it feels like no matter how hard I try, I’ll always just end up disappointing everyone,” you cried. Hobie frowned as he pulled you close. He muttered into your hair as he gently rubbed your arm.

“Listen here: you’re not a disappointment,” he said. You slumped your shoulders.

“Hobie, you have no idea how many things I’ve messed up this past week. The amount of people I upset. I just…fuck. What is wrong with me?” you sighed in defeat. Your boyfriend hummed and rubbed your upper arm.

“You know what I think?” he asked. You tilted your head to the side and gazed into his deep hickory eyes. "I think that all of those things you just said about yourself...are complete bullshit," Hobie stated. Your jaw went slack as your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. "Sorry, guess I should apologize now for bein' blunt," he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. You gave a small smile before bursting into laughter. Hobie blinked as you peeled with laughter, your giggles reverberating inside the small bedroom. His shoulders were soon bouncing as he chuckled softly. You clutched your side and caught your breath after several minutes.

“Thanks, Hobes. I really need that today," you sighed and wiped your eye. “My pleasure,” he said with a wink. The two of you chuckled. “Hey... look at me,” Hobie said in a more serious tone. You slid your head up, your heart melting at his gentle expression. He sighed as he smoothed his hand over your hair.

“You’re smart, the smartest bloke I've ever known,” he said. You blushed.

“H-Hobie..." you stammered.

“It’s true. And you can always work on being more organized. Doesn’t mean you’re a bad person-just means you’ve got somethin’ to improve on,” your boyfriend shrugged. You sniffed as he placed a kiss on your forehead and cupped your face.

“And as for those stuck up pricks...they can kindly go fuck themselves,” he said with a firm nod. Your face felt red hot as you laughed. Hobie pursed his lips. “Honestly, I think you need to get the hell out of there,” your boyfriend said. You wrung your hands together as you tensed in his hold.

“It’s decent pay, though,” you sighed as your heart sank. Hobie hummed.

“But you could get paid way better for a job you actually enjoy,” he said. You frowned.

“True...but I don’t even know where to begin,” you said exasperatedly. Your boyfriend tilted his head.

“Could help you look when I’m not busy,” he replied with a shrug. Your eyes widened as your heart leapt in your chest.

“Really?” you beamed. Hobie cracked an eye open and nodded.

“‘Course-anythin’ to help my boy,” he said. You pulled him into a tight hug again, drawing a deep chuckle from your love.

“Thank you,” you said softly. Hobie nodded and squeezed you back.

“You’re incredible, (Y/N). Don’t you ever forget it,” he whispered. You smiled widely as you placed your hands over his. He beamed as you pressed your lips against the side of his palms.

“You’re intelligent,” Hobie repeated as he kissed your forehead. “Organized,” his lips lingered on the top of your nose. He smiled as he rested his forehead against yours, his lip ring brushing over your bottom lip. “And most importantly…incredible,” he murmured softly while gazing into your eyes.

Your heart melted as he rested his plush lips against yours. You sighed and wrapped a hand around his neck as his hands moved to cup your face again. The whole world stood still as your blissful kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity. Hobie’s pupils were blown when the two of you parted and caught your breaths. A small smile crept onto his face.

“How about we get some takeaway, yeah? Put on a movie and just have a lazy night in?” Hobie suggested while brushing his thumb over your cheek. You grinned before gently kissing him on the lips.

“That sounds wonderful,” you replied.

————

Thank you for reading! 💖

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#hobie brown #astv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie x male reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x male reader #hobart brown #spider punk #spider man angst #spider man fluff #spider punk x you #spider punk x y/n #spider punk x m!reader

[lynnlovesspidahman]

this is me trying.

peter parker x reader

part 1. || part 2.

masterlist

warnings : None really, except for a few curse words here and there

word count : 1.5k

summary : Peter breaks up with you, randomly.

Also, I just want to make note that any Peter will work for this story, I just love the Insomniac’s version currently so I based it off of him 😭

You searched your pantry for something to eat.

You haven’t gone grocery shopping in a bit. You usually can count on Peter to take care of it for you, but he’s been extra busy lately.

Too busy, you thought. He was always so tired and seemed so overwhelmed. Sure, he’d been skipping out on some of your planned hangouts but you didn’t mind. He needed time to himself, and you fully respected that.

“Ooh, spaghetti..” You spoke to yourself.

You grabbed the box of angel hair and the tomato sauce from your pantry before closing it back up.

You bent down to grab the big pot from your bottom cabinet and filled it up with a decent amount of water.

You turned the heat on your oven and scrolled on your phone while leaning on the counter while waiting for it to boil.

“Hey, beautiful.” Peter appeared — literally — out of nowhere (a common occurrence, much to your disliking).

“Holy fuck-“ You gasped. “Okay, actually. Where do you come from? And how do you get in here so quietly?” You giggled as you approached him.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

“So? How are you?” You ask.

“Well.. Y’know, tired.”

“Trust me, I know.” It wasn’t hard to miss his recent demeanor, he was so much more exhausted lately. You felt bad that you couldn’t help him more than you did.

“Yeah,” He let out a breathy laugh.

You turned around to check if the water was boiling; it was. You poured the angel hair into the pot.

“Well,” You dropped your hands to your sides, “I’m cooking pasta, if you want some.” You smiled up at him.

“I can’t stay for long, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, okay. You can take some home if you’d like?” You offered, you didn’t want him going home hungry (he literally would only ever have toast at his place).

“Nah, I just wanted to talk to you real quick. I’m gonna be gone before it’s ready.”

“Oh? What’s up?” You raised your eyebrows. You can’t name the last time he had to talk to you about something (Never, ever was it something good).

“I’ve been thinking,” He started.

“That’s a first.” You joked.

“I’m being serious,” He spat.

This time you stayed quiet. What is up with him?

“I’ve been thinking,” He bit the inside of his cheek.

“Stop biting your cheek, Pete. Spit it out.”

“I dunno if we should be together anymore.”

You turned back towards him, absolutely confused.

“Haha,” You sarcastically commented, “Real funny, Pete. You know I don’t like when you joke like that.”

“I told you, I’m being serious.”

“What? Why? Where is this coming from?” You had so many questions for him, this was all so sudden.

“I- I don’t-” He sighed, before continuing on, “I’m sorry, beautiful.”

“No. You can’t just say sorry and not explain this to me. Where the hell did this come from, Peter? I don’t understand,” Tears already starting to well up in your eyes.

“We feel like a chore. It’s like I have to be here every night, I have to text you everyday.”

“Peter, what the fuck? I’ve never once thought we were a chore,” You almost laughed, but you couldn’t. More tears had quickly followed.

“I didn’t say you did.” He spat at you. When did he become so attitude-y?

“I know, but I didn’t do anything is my point. I’ve never forced you to come over, if anything I stay up every night waiting for you. I text you. I make sure you’re okay everyday,” You were so angry. He had absolutely no reason to break it off.

“It’s just- That’s my point. You do everything. And I can’t even try.” He sat down in one of your stools at the kitchen island.

“I can’t be my best around you, and when I try to it just feels like I’m forcing myself to. And I can’t do that.” He put his head down on the counter.

“I don’t need your best, I just want you,” You were perfectly content with your relationship, nothing was wrong with taking care of him.

“Are you even listening?” He shot his head back up and scowled at you.

“Let me put it this way, I can’t enjoy loving you, and I don’t know why. How ‘bout that? Is that what you want me to say?” He finally snapped.

You didn’t want to be around him anymore. It was becoming unbearable. If he wanted to leave you, then so be it.

“I’m-“ He sighed as he pushed his hair back with his hand, “I have to go.”

He got up from the stool, and walked out. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You stared at that door for God knows how long, but were suddenly interrupted by the water overflowing the pot.

You overcooked the noodles, leaving them gummy and mushy. Nothing could save this meal.

“Fuck.”

He never makes any sense.

You sat there, on your couch. Blanket draped over your lap, not even able to pay attention to your favorite show on the TV.

It’s been two and a half weeks. Since that Tuesday. The Tuesday Peter broke your relationship off. It’s all you’ve been thinking about.

His reasons (?) didn’t make any sense. I mean, was he just trying to come up with something that sounded valid? You couldn’t tell.

There was one thing you couldn’t question though.

“I can’t enjoy loving you.”

It’s like it was unable to leave your brain. Were you so unloveable?

You knew it couldn’t have been the end of you and Peter completely, there was still things left unresolved. Sure, you might not get back together, but you couldn’t live without Peter in your life. You could settle for friends (Right?).

But even if you did come back to him (again), would he care?

Your relationship was going so well too.

There was only one fight before Tuesday.

Your relationship with Peter had rusted, permanently. No matter if it would resolve in the near future (if that was even possible). This one would stick around.

It didn’t just ruin the two of you, you felt it everywhere else in your life as well.

It felt so hard to even hang out with your friends, while the wounds Peter had dug into you were still open.

It was hard to be anywhere, when all you wanted was to be with him again.

He brought you comfort, safety. It felt like you were constantly missing something.

You tried to call him. A lot.

Straight to voicemail every time, though.

You just wanted to fix the strained relationship, you didn’t have to be with him again (maybe).

You still loved him, no denying that. And you told him, in those voicemails.

But you doubt he listened to a single one. He didn’t care about your relationship, or you anymore. You had to live with that.

You tried. You really fucking did. You tried to get ahead of the curve, and you did. But the curve became a sphere.

It had been 5 weeks after Tuesday, you were back to square one. You decided to clean your apartment. You found the Spidey plush. Peter bought it for you on your eighth month anniversary date. You hadn’t been able to find him for a while, and eventually you forgot you even had it. But when you checked under your bed for any missed laundry, it was the first thing you saw.

It hit you, hard. When you first found him you grabbed and squeezed him and sat on the floor, crying uncontrollably. You gave up on the deep clean, you were too upset. So you sat on your couch and felt like an absolute failure.

How could a fucking plush cut you so deep? The wounds you had started to finally live with, started to hurt just as bad as when Peter carved them into you.

You caved into your old ways. You called Peter. Each time it would ring, it gave you hope. Each time it would ring, would mean he still had a chance to pick up the phone.

But he didn’t. Straight to voicemail. You didn’t know what else you expected.

“Hey, Pete.” You sniffled, looking up at the ceiling so your tears would fall out of your eyes.

“I know, I know I keep calling. I’m sorry. But I-” You paused to catch a breath. “I can’t. I hate missing you, knowing you don’t feel the same. I hate that I continue to love you the same, to this day.”

“This will probably be the last call, so you can stop worrying about that. At first I wanted to fix us, one less thing to get worked up about. But now, I think I just want to learn how to live without you.”

(You lied through your teeth. You really didn’t. But admitting it to him was probably your best shot at being able to understand that for yourself.)

“I-I’m sorry. Goodbye, Pete.”

You ended the voicemail. You sat there, on your couch, with Spidey next to you, staring at nothing.

You wanted to at least let him know you were trying, maybe then you wouldn’t seem as pathetic as you actually were.

Your phone unexpectedly pinged, interrupting your ongoing thoughts.

9:52 PM

Peter 🕸️ : Hey, beautiful.

Hi, if you’re just so happening to be re-reading this story, you’ll notice I changed up literally everything. The first version was literal ass and I hated it. So I’m hoping you’ve enjoyed it!

But if you’ve just read this for the first time, be glad you didn’t see the other one, lol.

I love you all and all of the support you’ve been giving me 🥹💗

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland #tom holland x reader #insomniac peter parker #spider man ps4 #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #spider man x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker angst #spider man angst #mcu peter x reader #peter parker imagine #mcu peter parker x reader #mcu peter parker #insomniac spiderman x reader #spider-man ps4 x reader #lynnlovesspidahman

[shellshocklove]

six: thick skull | peter parker

pairing/AU: band AU & post!nwh - college!peter parker x female!reader

summary: your band, crimson goblins, just booked its first ever gig. there was just one problem. you didn’t have a guitarist.

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries, smut 18+ (minors dni!), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4.9k

a/n: hi besties! <3 surprise! posting the last chapter early! </3 there might be an epilogue we’ll see! either way i hope you liked this little series. i was really insecure about it tbh and i don’t feel like it’s my best work but alas i guess that’s just how it is sometimes. it is what it is. as always feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3

series masterlist / main masterlist

First the first time in weeks, you didn’t bolt awake in a cold sweat. Instead, you woke up with the thought of him. Of Peter, the comforting warmth of him as he laid sprawled out beside you, taking up more than half of your bed.

He didn’t leave.

You turned over on your side. Under your head his arm still laid stretched out. You hoped he wouldn’t wake up to it prickling from falling asleep. Letting your gaze trace over his features, you studied him. The small cuts on his face were gone, not even a small scar to remind him of what he’d been through last night. Shit, he must’ve been hit hard, you thought, for the skin to break.

Memories of last night poured through your head, staining your pillow. Peter was Spider-Man. It didn’t feel real. Even after you’d literally seen him in his suit, seen how he’d jumped off the roof and swung away. You’d patched him up the best you could. He had bled in your bed. The muted blood stain on your white sheets, dividing you.

Peter was Spider-Man.

You let your eyes trail his body. Down the shape of his chin, his neck, how it moved slightly with every soft breath he took – letting you know he hadn’t died during the night – over his collar bone, and his strong torso, the top of his bandages peeking out from under the duvet. You yearned for him. He was so close to you, right beside you. He’d lied to you, and he’d hurt you, but still you longed. You felt crazy, and all because of him.

You wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel his smooth skin under your palm. It was like he was tugging on a thread that ran from his heart to yours. Pressing a finger gently against the fabric of your sheets, you held yourself back. He needed his rest. To heal.

Gently you lifted your head, before scooting towards the end of the bed. Goosebumps erupted across your skin, and the hardwood floor felt like ice against the soles of your feet. You needed to find a way to close your broken window, if not, you feared you’d freeze to death. Darting towards your bathroom, you chased the warmth of the heat in the tiled floor. Quickly you found an old hoodie you pulled over your head and jumped into a pair of sweatpants. Already you felt a little warmer.

You tried to be as quiet as possible while moving about your apartment. In your painting corner, the half-finished canvases leaning up against the wall, mocked you while you started to set up your easel and your paints. You imagined how they scowled and scrunched up their noses at you as you picked up a new blank canvas.  Turning your easel towards the bed, you grabbed your palette and your brush, before you finally sat down.

You let all your thoughts go with the first drag of your brush. Your emotions escaping your heart and sticking to the canvas. You didn’t even realize what the lines and colors depicted, until you suddenly caught yourself trying to mix the perfect shade to match your bed sheets. You were painting Peter. Heat travelled to your cheeks. Fuck, what were you doing?

You studied your canvas. You’d painted the scene before you as it was. The mess of your bedsheets, the bloody dried stain, the opened first aid kit on your bed side table with the bandages spilling out. And in the middle of it all laid Peter. His head slightly turned, his profile on display. You’d painted Peter as he was. All his bruises and cuts.

Looking at it, tears almost started to well up. It was like ‘My bed’, but it was yours. It was honest. Probably the most honest you’d ever been in your art. It scared you, but it also felt so right. This was you.

“Good morning” Peter’s hoarse morning voice almost made you jump. You’d drowned in your painting, losing track of the world around you. The brush strokes hypnotizing you in a cosmos of straight lines and colorful curves.

“You scared me” you breathed out. Putting your paint brush and palette down on your desk. Disturbing your motif, you walked over to him where you sat down on the edge of your bed.

“You scared me” he said softly, his hand finding yours, “The bed was empty– I thought I’d hallucinated last night for a second”.

A giggle escaped your lips, “Oh yes! You were tripping hard last night! You kept telling me you were Spider-Man– how crazy is that?” you joked.

You watched as his face turned white while his eyes widened. “Wait…” he started, and you couldn’t hold back your laughter.

“Oh my god, Peter! I’m messing with you” you laughed, “You didn’t hallucinate anything”.

He let out a relived breath at your words before he narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re mean” he fake accused, “Can’t believe you’d do this to your poor mortally wounded boyfriend” he exclaimed with a pout.

His dramatics made you giggle. Your bubbling reaction making a toothy grin replace his pout. Your boyfriend. You liked the sound of that.

“So that’s what you are then? My boyfriend?” you teased, squeezing his hand.

A pink flush travelled up his neck to the apples of his cheek. “Y-Yeah… I mean if– I don’t have to be– I get it if you don’t–“.

You cut him off, “I want you to” you smiled.

“Oh… O-Okay” he stuttered out, the grin on his face made crinkles form around his eyes. He looked so cute all flustered and wide eyed.

Your eyes fell to his stomach and his bandages, “You’re not actually mortally wounded though, right?” you asked, your tone a little more serious.

“No, angel” he breathed out, squeezing your hand.

You shifted a little closer to him, trying to get a closer look at his bandages, “How are you feeling? Does it still hurt or?”.

With a jerk of your hand, he pulled you down on the bed, a small yelp escaped your lips. Before you had time to think, he’d wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you closer to his body. A chorus of giggles escaped you both before he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was clumsy. He’d missed your mouth a little, making you struggle to fight back a smile. A smile that apparently was contagious, because suddenly you were kissing his teeth.

“I’m feeling much better” he spoke against your lips, “You’re an excellent doctor”.

He pressed his lips against yours again, and this time he was more successful. You leaned into his kiss, kissing him back. His lips moved lazily over yours. You felt warm all over. You felt safe.

His tongue darted over your bottom lip, and you let him in. His hand rested heavy on your head, pulling you closer to him. The kiss was all-consuming, sloppy, and passionate. His other hand snuck under your hoodie, caressing the skin over your waist, before it travelled down where it slipped beneath the elastic of your sweatpants, cupping your ass over your panties.

“Easy there, tiger!” you giggled against his lips.

He broke away from your kiss, placing soft kisses along your jaw. “I’m…” kiss, “not…” another kiss “doing…” he playfully nipped at you skin, “anything” he soothed over the spot with his tongue, making you mewl.

“Uh-huh” you smiled against his cheek before you sat up, “sure”.

Under you he whined from the lack of contact. His lips red and puffy, glistening with your combined spit. He sat up a little, chasing you and your lips.

“You’re still healing Pete– I don’t want you to get hurt even more” you dodged his kiss, trying your best to sound stern.

He only rolled his eyes, “I’m fine angel– honestly!”, he fell back against the sheets.

You gave him an unimpressed look, to which he returned with a cheeky smile and a squeeze to your butt. In his defense, he did look a lot better than he’d done last night. The color was back in his cheeks, all his cuts and bruises were gone, and you hadn’t heard him wince once.

“Let me change your bandages first at least?” you posed, raising an eyebrow.

“Fine” he pouted, removing his hand from your ass.

You bounced with triumph, a victorious smile growing on your face as you grabbed the first aid kit off the bed side table. He helped you push the duvet off his body, pooling it just below his knees, exposing his lower half. Your eyes traced up his thighs, shamelessly landing on his bulge. His cock was already half-hard. The sight making you push your legs a little tighter together. He knew you’d noticed his state, as you felt his stare burn the side of your face.

Withdrawing your hand, you accidently brushed your knuckle over the fabric of his boxers. Your touch making his breath get stuck in his throat. Your eyes flickered to his face at the sound, watching him through your eyelashes.

“Fuck, angel! You can’t look at me like that” his voice was strained.

“What? I’m not doing anything” you repeated what he’s said to you just moments earlier.

A breathless chuckle escaped him as he let his head sink deeper into your pillow, a sarcastic smile on his face as he said “Uh-huh, sure”.

Wanting to see how hot and bothered you could get him, you decided to tease him a little.

“Why don’t you turn onto your tummy, tiger” you traced a finger slowly down the side of his waist. He narrowed his eyes at you for a second, as if to say he was onto you, but obeyed your request. Quickly, but as quietly as you could you slipped out of your sweatpants and hoodie, exposing the white ribbed tank you were wearing underneath.

Then you swung your leg over his body, sitting down right below his ass. He turned his head to the side, trying to get a look at you, but you knew he couldn’t without lifting his head.

“Whaaat are you doing?” he questioned curiously, his hand searching for your body but only finding your bare knee, “Wait–“.

You cut him off, “Damn! My boyfriend’s got back!” you gave him a teasing pinch to his right buttcheek.

“Hey!” he squealed underneath you, “I feel really objectified right now” he pouted.

“You literally had your hand on my ass INSIDE my pants like three minutes ago” you deadpanned.

“Yeah but…” he trailed off, “you have like a really nice butt– what else was I supposed to do”. That made you laugh out loud, and under you, you could see a smile spread wide on his face. You leaned forward, pressing a kiss in the space between his angel wings, “Thanks I guess?”.

Then you got to work, peeling the bandages off slowly and carefully. His wound had closed, all but completely. You almost didn’t believe your own eyes. Mere hours ago, it had bled heavily, making you scared he wasn’t gonna pull through.

“Um” you started, “It’s closed– it’s almost healed” you told him.

“Yeah, I know” he said.

“So… what do I do then?” you asked unsurely.

“Just, um– can you remove the stiches?” he asked you.

“Yeah, sure but… how do I do that?” you chuckled.

“Just cut the stich with a pair of scissors and use a pair of tweezers, or something, to pull them out” he told you.

“Okay…” you reached into your first aid kit for your scissors and tweezer.

You shifted a little, rubbing your pelvis into the curve of his ass. Under you he groaned at the contact. “Does it hurt… usually?” you wondered, clipping the first stich and pulling it out, a teasing hint to your voice.

“No” he breathed out.

“Ok, turn over!” you told him after pulling out the last stich. You raised your hips making it easier for him to do as he was told.

“Damn! Look at you” he said when he finally saw you, eyes wide and filled with lust, “Angel, you’re so pretty”.

You knew your white tank left nothing to his imagination – especially with the way your nipples were poking through the fabric from the cold of the room. You sat down on him again, your clothed cunt rubbing over his now rock-hard cock. You rolled your hips once, teasing both him and yourself.

“Shit!” he hissed, his hand landing on your knee while the other travelled up the side of your body. “Keep doing that baby– feels good”.

You obeyed, rolling your hips once again over his cock. You felt your arousal start to seep through the cotton covering your cunt. His hand found your breast, cupping it slightly, rubbing his index and thumb over your peaked nipple. You gasped, the ribbed fabric of your tank making his touch slightly rougher. You bucked your hips against him again.

“Yeah” he taunted, “you like that?”.

“Uh-huh” you nodded, closing your eyes in bliss as he rubbed his finger over your nipple again.

Then you shook your head, making him immediately stop. “Need to– need to re-remove your other stiches” you stuttered out, before opening your eyes and looking down at him.

His eyebrows were knitted together but straightened out at your words. His hand on your breast fell down your side, as he started to chuckle beneath you. “Oh, you’re really serious about your new doctor duties”.

You only nodded.

“Okay then!” he said, splaying both his arms out on your bed as if to say: ‘do your worst’.

You peeled of his bandage and got your scissors and tweezers ready again before you got to work. Under you, he waited patiently, watching you as you removed stich after stich. He wasn’t as whiny as he’d been earlier– maybe because he knew he’d soon get his reward.

When the last stich was removed, he was quick to sit up. His sudden movements surprised you, making you shift on his lap. You tried to hold back a moan when his pelvis rubbed right up against your clit, but your attempt was unsuccessful.

His lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss. Wrapping his hands tightly around you, he pulled you flush against his body. The kiss was messy, all teeth and tongue, and groans and gasps. You pushed him back down against your pillows. Your hand pressed against the pillow beside his head, supporting you as you hovered over him while trailing kisses down his jaw and neck.

“Shit baby–” he moaned, “your kisses are amazing”.

You continued down, placing soft kisses to his collar bone. Over his pecks, your tongue darting out to tease a nipple before you continued your kisses down his toned tummy. When you reached the hem of his boxers you looked up, meeting his blown-out pupils.

“Please,” he pleaded, “need you so bad angel!”.

Slowly you dragged his boxers down, freeing his hard cock and making it slap against the skin right under his belly button. You realized that this was the first time you’d seen his cock. The last time it had been so dark, and you’d both been hidden under the duvet. It was pretty, but then again you thought everything about him was pretty. You weren’t surprised by his size; you knew what to expect after last time. The girth had stretched you out perfectly, and his length had hit your spot just right. You squeezed your thighs together at the memory – chasing some type of release.

You took his cock gently in your hands, familiarizing yourself with the weight of him in your palm. A shaky breath escaped his lips at your touch. You aimed it towards you while you laid down on your tummy between his legs – getting comfortable. Over you, he sat up a little on his elbows watching as you pressed a soft kiss to the head, tasting the precum that had started to pearl at the tip.

His head flung back with a groan, “Fuck– you’re really good at that”.

“I haven’t even done anything yet”, you giggled, your stuttered breath like the touch of a fluttering butterfly against his sensitive cock.

“Still–“ his breath hitched when you started to press soft kisses down the side of his shaft. You licked a stripe back up to the head, “It feels re-really good” he stuttered.

“Please don’t forget to leave a five-star yelp review later” you joked before wrapping you lips around him.

You traced your tongue over the head, teasing the underside and sucking lightly. You let your lips glide over it, spit running down the length of him, slicking it and covering him before it pooled over your hand, where it gripped the base. You gave him an experimental tug, feeling how the vein pulsed under your touch. A slick sound from under your fist filled the space between you as you started to stroke him slowly. You gripped him a little tighter at the base, before letting up the pressure, skating your thumb over his sensitive head. Gasps mixed with whispering curses fell from Peter’s lips as you stroked his length. Wrapping your lips around the head again, you sucked lightly before you took him a little deeper down your throat.

“Fuck!” Peter spat, his back hitting the mattress. A heavy reassuring hand landed on your head. He didn’t push your head down; instead, it was like he was anchoring himself to you. You took him as deep as you could, holding off your gag reflex the best you could. You looked up at him through your lashes. He’d pushed his head hard against your pillow while his chest moved at an erratic pace.

You bopped your head. Flicking your tongue over his head, you dipped down and took him deeper in your throat again. Your hand still held him firmly at the base where you stroked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Everything was slick and sticky and messy; just like your soiled panties, sticking to your cunt.

Heavy breathing, the wet sound of spit and Peter’s moans filled your apartment. Your other hand found his balls, cupping them gently in your palm. The new sensation paired with the bopping of your head made his hand tighten around your crown. His cock twitched in your throat as your name fell from his lips paired with a moan. He was close to coming.

With a gasp you pulled of his cock. His length slapped heavy and hard against his tummy. You caught your breath, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your mouth when you heard his frustrated whine.

You sat up on your knees between his legs, trailing your fingers slowly up your thigh. Under you he watched you with hooded eyes. Hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties, you sat up a little on your knees, but before you could pull them down an idea popped into your head. Letting the elastic snap against your skin, you pulled your thumbs from the cotton fabric. His eyes were glued to your hands, his impatience evident in his eyes as he let out a whine.

“Such a whiny baby aren’t you?” you teased, turning around putting your covered ass on display for him.

“You’re a tease” he pouted, “It’s driving me crazy”.

You beamed at his words, though he couldn’t see you smile. Your thumbs hooked around the waistband of your panties again. You pulled them off. Slowly. Making sure to give him a good show. The fabric dragged over your ass. You’d worked yourself up, the teasing making you so wet the fabric of your panties stuck to your core. You peeled the cotton off, pulling your panties down all the way, exposing yourself to your boyfriend.

“Y-you’re amazing” he groaned behind you, his hand coming up to brush a knuckle over your bare ass. You reveled in his touch, feeling how he dragged his callused fingertips gently over your skin. Slowly he moved his hand between your legs, running his index and marriage through your folds. The sticky sound of your arousal filled the room. He ran his fingers through your folds again, collecting your wetness on his fingers before he brushed them lightly over your clit.

His featherlight touch dragged a moan from your lips. You lowered yourself slightly, chasing his fingers while your hand came down to rest against his thighs – steadying yourself.

“You hear how wet you are my angel?” he asked you, starting to brush circles over your clit, “You’re just a desperate as me aren’t you?”. He pressed down a little harder against your puffy clit, making you whine.

“Listen to you” he said, “Who’s the whiny baby now?” he coaxed.

“Fuck” you needed him. Needed to feel him inside you. To fill you up. You quickly turned around. His fingers fell from your core. Wet stripes running up your thigh as you moved to straddle his hips.

You sat down gently, rubbing yourself over his length before you leaned down to cup his cheek. Your thumb rubbed softly over his bottom lip. Leaning closer you brushed your nose lightly against his before you captured his lips in a kiss. He kissed you back immediately. You let your tongue run along his bottom lip. His hands fell to your ass, rubbing over your skin and pushing you down, helping you grind against him. Your folds dragged over his length, coating him in your arousal. The slick sound audible with each rut against him.

“I want you so bad baby” he mumbled against your lips, “Can I put it in?”.

“Please” you begged, the sound coming out more as a breathy moan, “Need you inside me so bad”.

Lifting your hips, his hand snuck between your bodies. Grabbing his shaft, he guided the tip through your folds, running the head up and down, coating himself in more of your wetness before lining up at your entrance. You lifted your head a little, pressing your forehead against his. You looked him straight in the eye. With a small nod and a breathy “yes”, he brushed the head over your entrance.

Slowly you lowered your hips. First slipping the tip in, before letting him fill you to the hilt – taking him fully inside. His mouth fell open in a groan as you seated yourself on his cock. He was so deep you felt breathless.

His hands found the underside of your thighs, lifting you slightly as he slowly thrusted up into you. “Shit! Peter!” you gasped, falling against his chest. The head of his cock hit your spot inside right away.

“Does that feel good baby?” he wondered, thrusting up into you again, “Right there?”

Already you felt close to the edge. You’d told yourself that you were the one teasing him, but in the process, you’d ultimately ended up teasing yourself. The anticipation winding you up so tight you were already close to bursting.

“Y-Yes” you moaned, grinding your clit down against his pelvis.

You sat up, your palms splaying over the lower half of his tummy, steadying yourself. You raised your hips in an experimental lift until just the tip was enveloped in your heat before you quickly sat down. Then you started to bounce on his cock, his hands on your thighs helping you build a rhythm. Breathy moans and gasps fell from your lips with every bounce. His hands locked with yours, holding them up slightly for you to push against.

Chasing his own release, he met your bounces with thrusts of his own. The way his cock went even deeper, hitting you just right with every thrust, made you pathetically clench around him.

“I’m-I’m gonna come” you panted, the words floating in the air. You freed a hand from his clasp, sliding it down and rubbing circles over your neglected clit. You lost yourself in the pleasure. The way he felt inside you, stretching you out and bottoming out with each thrust.

With a plead of his name, your orgasm washed over you. Stilling your hips, your whole body shook over him. Pleasure coming in waves of ecstasy, clenching down hard around his cock in fluttering ripples. Riding out your high, you almost didn’t hear the “Fuck!” he spat along with the rough groan he let out as he came hard, emptying himself deep inside you and coating your walls. The aftershocks of your orgasm milking him of all his cum.

Exhausted you fell to his chest. Content sighs through deep breaths escaped your lips. His hands wrapped around you, cradling your body against his chest. He held you close, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. As his cock softened inside you, his cum start to drip out around his cock, joining the already sticky mess between your legs.

“Definitely five stars” he sighed.

“What?” you sat up a little, looking down at his face.

“My yelp review” he joked.

Your chortled, before you let your head fall back down to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His hand rubbed softly over your back.

“Dork” you mumbled before pressing a soft kiss right under his jaw. Your dork.

A chill coming from your open window made goosebumps dance over your skin. Peter noticed immediately asking you “You cold angel?”, before pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“Yeah, a little– It’s just the wind from open window” you explained.

“That can easily be fixed” he perked, moving to sit up with you still in his lap and his cock still inside you.

“Peter!” you yelped at the sudden movement. With one hand securely around your waist, he leaned towards your bedside table. Grabbing one of his web shooters he slipped it easily over his wrist.

“Watch and learn babe!” he told you, aiming towards your window. He pressed the button in his palm, and with a thwip! he shot a web. You watched as the web hit your window, but instead of closing it, the window swung open with a rapid force.

“Uhm…” Peter started before you cut him off, “It opens outwards you idiot” you giggled.

 “We got one more song to play for you guys!” Harry said enthusiastically into the microphone. A loud cheer from the crowd rang loudly through the walls of The Living Room, at his words.

“But before we do that, I want to dedicate this next song to a very special someone” he said after the cheers had quieted down a little.

Harry looked over his shoulder at you with a nervous shake of his head, “He’s gonna hate me for this isn’t he?” he asked you into the mic followed by a chuckle. Looking straight ahead at Harry, you tried your best not to ruin the surprise, giving him a nod and a toothy grin.

“Ok so…” Harry started, turning back to face the crowd, “A few weeks ago, Y/n here” he pointed towards you, “and Peter,” he swung around pointing towards Peter where he stood leaning against one of the amps. He’d been studying the stage floor with his hands rested over the top of his guitar, until he quickly looked up at the mention of his name.

“They almost died in a shooting” Harry finished making a surge go through the crowd.

“Yeah…” Harry nodded, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost them to be honest. They’re my best friends– I love them so much!” he confessed. You snuck a glance at Peter to gauge his confused reaction.

“They’re luckily both okay, physically, and that’s thanks to this guy right here!” Harry spun around, a hand opening towards Peter, while the crowd broke out in a loud cheer.

“Peter,” Harry started, walking over to Peter, and swinging a hand over his shoulders. “I want to dedicate this song to you because I’m so glad to have met you– my life is brighter with you in it! I love you– even though I might be losing you to your new girlfriend” Harry quickly turned his head towards you, jokingly narrowing your eyes at you. You could only shake your head with a giggle at his antics.

“What?” Harry turned his head back towards Peter as he’d spoken something to Harry. Harry pointed the microphone towards Peter’s mouth and his voice filled the speakers.

“I love you too and you could never lose me, man! You pay for all my stuff” Peter quipped. Behind you Elijah stomped the bass drum a few times, making you you’re your head towards him and catching his chuckle.

“Okay, okay” Harry huffed jokingly, retracting his hand from around Peter’s shoulders. “Now you’re being a bad sugar baby” Harry accused, with an obvious fake dramatic sob.

Peter playfully rolled his eyes before he pushed off the amp, he was leaning against, to wrap his arm around Harry in one of those awkward bro half hugs.

“Sorry, man” you heard Peter’s voice through the speakers. His voice was faint but still loud enough to be picked up by Harry’s microphone. At his words Harry perked with a cheeky smile growing on his face.

“It’s too easy” he grinned playfully. Peter’s head fell backwards for a beat before he turned to look at you with disbelieving shake of his head.

“Anyways…” Harry moved towards the crowd again, “Thank you for being such a great crowd tonight! We love you so much! And this is our newest song ‘Hero’”.

previous: five | next: epilogue

tags: @hollandweather​, @peterdarlingg​, @starsval​, @luciwritesstuff​, @mayal0pez​, @lnmp89​, @justapurrcat​, @sparklingsin​, @silkscream​, @melodichaeuxx-lacritquexx​, @t-hollanderr​,

#peter parker #spider man #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #mcu!peter parker #mcu!peter parker x reader #spider man x reader #tom holland x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spider man fanfiction #spider man smut #spider man fluff #spider man angst #peter parker fic #tom holland smut

[berrieluv]

if you're too shy then let me know.

so i had a dream and i had to write it. CW. Overstimulation, non-con, dub-con, self word non stablished, innocent reader, dark!spider man, perv!peter parker, creampie, oral sex (male and female), fingering, masturbating (male), sir kink, public sex, exhibitionist kink, multiple orgasms. let me know if i missed one.

Peter always thought he liked Gwen Stacy. It was only fair, it was right, it felt right. She was smart, pretty and charismatic, she always seemed to understand him and she was a strong, independent woman.

But just when he was thinking on asking her out, on start working, building the friendship into something else, he met you, and you were the prettiest little thing he has ever seen, and wanting you just felt right, even more than wanting Gwen.

Thought the feeling was different, he knew he loved Gwen, she was his best friend, and being by her side, in any situation, made the universe's path seem correct. But he wanted you, he wanted you like he has never want someone, it burned his skin and it didn't allow him to sleep at nights.

"Umh, hello?" You said, a sunday night while walking outside the store, Peter knew you saw him, at least Spider-Man, he was standing close to the alley and that was the first time he saw you. "Are you going to hurt me?"

You questioned, far too innocent fom the city of Brooklyn wickedness, he wanted to, you seemed too pure, too cute for the darkness of the night and he wanted to bruise your skin, put you against the wall and make you beg for him to stop.

As soon as that thought invaded his mind, he thought how many more could think of that, and he felt the need to protect you, at least from others.

He and Gwen befriended you, your faculty was near to Gwen's and you crossed paths when you almost throw her final project. You couldn't stop apologizing, wanting to get smaller and disappear, but Gwen just smiled at you and invited you for lunch, as she thought you were incredibly cute as well.

"Peter, this is my new friend... Y/N" the blonde girl smiled, and Peter could swear he might die from the cute smile and the little wave you used to greet him.

"Hi" He said "I'm Peter Parker"

As time passed by, you became close with both of them, and one afternoon you said, out of the blue, gaining concerned looks from Gwen and embarrassment took over Peter's body when she looked at him.

"This boy has been follow me lately" You started, 'lately' meaning since you moved to Brooklyn "He wears a red and blue suit, I think I've seen him on the news but..." you stopped "I don't think it's him because he's supposed to be a hero, a friendly person, and the boy following me scares me"

You continue eating, as if what you said wasn't concerning, as if it happened every day; "Peter..." Gwen said, between her teeth.

"Maybe there's two of them" He said, his hands sweating at Gwen's deep stare "The good one and an impostor"

That made sense, at least for you, but Gwen knew better.

"I should ask the good one for help, to take the bad one away" You said, and then you opened your eyes, as if what you just said was unacceptable "Not in a bad way" You pout "I just don't want him following me"

Where did Peter got someone to dress as Spider-Man so he could 'fight' him and pretend he saved you wasn't what was concerning, which was even more unbelievable was your ability to believe everything people would say to you.

"You alright, sweetheart?" Spider-Man asked you once the other ran away "Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head and look at Spider-Man with big doe eyes, thanking him with the sparkles in your eyes and trying to catch your breath.

"Good" He continued "Now... How're you gonna repay me?"

It came out too mischievous, too perverted for anyone's liking but you, he did something for you, the least you could do was paying for his actions.

"I– I don't know, sir" You started, tears assuming through your eyes because your pockets were empty and you were just carrying your daddy's credit card "I don't have money on me but I promise you, mr. Spider-Man, I would pay you as soon as I have cash on me, I'll– I'll even pay interests"

You rambled and Peter chuckled, finding you ridiculously cute.

"Princess... no, I don't ask for money"

"No?" He shakes his head "Then...?"

"Last time, an old woman gave me a chocolate pie"

"But I don't bake" You pouted, and his hand traveled to your chin, caressing your lower lip with his thumb and you felt shivers traveling down your spine. "Sir?"

"Yeah" He breathed "I like sir, call me that, princess" You frown, not understanding. "I'm gonna go easy on you, alright?" You nod "Just because you're so pretty" He continues, and you blush, his hand goes to his mask and lifts it a little, enough to show his lips, and even thought they seemed familiar for you, you didn't give it a second thought, most people looked alike in New York. "Gonna kiss you"

And you panic, because you've never kiss someone before, you swallowed your lips and he looked at you, or at least you thought for how he moved his head, the white eyes of the mask going from your lips to your eyes.

"I've never kiss someone" You let out, and you don't know why you felt suddenly ashamed.

"No one has ever touch those lips" You shake your head, lips inside your mouth again "Well, today's your lucky day, princess. Who better than your hero"

And you knew he was right, something told you he was making a point. A kiss should be shared between people who love, who care for each other, and if Spider-Man took the time to save you, took the time to still be here, to wait until your body stopped shaking, it was because he cared for you.

"You love me?" You asked, looking at his pretty puffy lips, pink and small, you smiled.

"Yeah" He said, not thinking it twice, chuckling. Maybe he didn't love you, love you, not like he loves Gwen, not like he loves but may, but he loved the way your body looked tiny next to him, he loved the idea of how gigantic his cock would look once he puts it against your cunt. So yes, he loved you too. "How could I not? You're so pretty"

Peter was waiting for you to say something, in reality he just wanted to act, he wanted to take you right there, rip your clothes off in the middle of the night, knowing the cold October breeze would invade your body, but it didn't matter, because he was gonna fuck you so hard, you would get warm with his horny body. For a minute, consent started to feel overrated, just a factor made to lose time.

He finally kiss you, taking your silent as a clue to do so, knowing you were too shy to say 'yes', too shy to let him know you wanted that too. He must as well just fuck you straight away since you would never verbally allow him to. Too timid, too innocent to even know what sex what, or at least he got turned on by that thought.

His lips smashed against yours, he wetted your lower lip, biting it when he was about to pull away, suddenly deciding it wasn't enough. He needed to be inside of you one way or another, so when you gasped at the bit, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth, causing your eyes to open and your hands travel to his chest, pulling him away or at least trying to do such thing.

His hand went to your neck and hold it a bit tight, closing his fist more every time you tried to pull away, a few seconds after, tears were asking your eyes to let them go and you were whimpering, crying, for Spider-Man to stop.

"You' alright there, doll?" He asked, pulling away and taking your hand in his, looking at your teary eyes and your red neck "What's wrong?"

"Couldn't breathe" You say in a thin, broken voice "Wanted to stop but you wouldn't let me"

"Oh!" He faked worry "I'm so sorry, doll, you just looked so pretty I couldn't stop myself" And it was like he knew he would get away with everything just with that nickname, you're favorite word, it sounded so good coming from his lips, so honest and soft, so pretty. "Are you mad?"

You shake your head and look at him, putting your hands back in your neck, not knowing why your pussy was tickling. Not knowing if it was right how much you liked it.

"No, sir" You answered with a small smile, cleaning your skirt and looking at him again "Thank you"

"I don't think that bad, mean man would bother you again, doll. Might stick around sometimes to take care of you, alright? Don't get scare" He smiles, but you can't see it "Doll, don't tell anyone, right? Everyone would want to kiss Spider-Man and I can't go kissing every girl I save, can I?" You shake your head "Not when I have you"

You nod with a smile and walk out of the alley, Peter's eyes glued to your back, making sure you get back home safely.

★

You start the next morning feeling new. You shared your first kiss with none other than Brooklyn superhero, and he speeded the whole kiss reminding you how pretty you were.

You arrived school with a smile, the world seemed pink and for some reason any problem could bother you. Gwen complimented your sudden radiation of happiness;

"Nor that you didn't look happy, you always look happy..." she started "But you look radiant today"

Peter just nodded, as if he didn't know, but the thing was, you liked the kiss, and he felt happy for that.

There was a party that weekend, you wanted to attend and meet new people, the event which usually would pass by the two of them, was attended.

Gwen wouldn't let go of your hand, always thinking if she drops it you would get lost. And in Gwen's mind, you loosing them in the crowded club was the worst think that could happened to the United Stated of America.

"Peter, what's wrong with you?" Gwen asked, turning to see him and then at you, examining your face for any sign that you wanted to leave "You're awfully quiet"

Peter chucked, nervously "Parties are not my thing" He shrugged.

"Yeah, I know, but Y/N's having a good time" She turned around to see you, still holding your hand, trying to get away, inside the crowd of people dancing. "That's good"

Peter nodded, and his eyes couldn't help but travel to your ass, your skirt seemed to get shorter today, your graphic shirt tighter and you were wearing leather boots instead of the usual snickers.

How could he act nonchalantly when he couldn't stop thinking about you, about putting your skirt up and fucking you in any surface he could find. He would even take you right there if he had the chance.

★

"Peter I lost, Y/N" Gwen arrived next to him, panicking "She was standing next to me then I went for drinks and then she was gone"

"What do you mean you lost her?" He says, looking at the blonde girl "Like a child?" She nods "Alright, let's look for her. Take a look around the club I'll see outside"

Gwen nodded and walked away from Peter, Peter, who saw you walking through the back door a few seconds before, who saw you hugging his jacket trying to warm your body.

Peter who left through the front door, taking advantage of the darkness to start taking his clothes off and pulling his mask on his face. Peter who was about to rail you on the club's parking lot.

Would you like him to fuck you? And more important, would you want him to fuck you?

It was echoing his mind, but it was far too late now, he knew your opinion couldn't import less, he needed it.

"Sir?"

You called when you distinguished the red and blue suit. He nods, walking close to you.

"What're you doing by your own here, doll?" He asks, caressing your cheek and smiling at how you pressed your face against his palm "It's dangerous"

"Inside felt weird" You said, opening your eyes and looking at him "I wanted some air"

He nods and without you noticing he sends a web to the door. Starting to breath heavy, pulling his mask up with desperation and taking your face more aggressive than the last time. You try to protests, but your words are shouted by a surprised gasp when he puts you on top of the nearest car and his hands make their way down your skirt, without leaving your lips.

You try to fight back but his hold gets tighter, his hand moves faster through the fabric of your panties and he stops his touch to pull up your shirt, your bare chest on display for him and you start to complain when he leaves your lips to put your breast inside his mouth.

"Sir?" You asked, scared "What're you doing?"

But he didn't answer, just pulls your arm, making you bend over the car, your cheek against the cold white metal of the Mercedes and letting out a gasp by the froze sensation traveling through the skin of your sensitive titties.

"Please, no"

You cry when your ass is exposed, your skirt pulled up and Peter big hands touching you, putting your underwear aside and kissing your inner thighs.

"Don't fight it, bunny" He says softly, as if what he was doing was right "I'm making you feel good, don't you want that?"

And yes, you wanted, but this didn't feel right. It made you feel dirty, it made you feel so bad it was almost good.

"Your pretty pussy's all wet for me, darling. Doesn't it feel good?" He whispers "You know what pussy is?"

You nod, because you weren't that oblivious, what you didn't know was why it started to feel wet.

Peter licks his fingers and pass them through your folds, making you quiver and cry, it hurts when he puts his finger inside, your walls stretching the two long and slim fingers and his cock hardens at the thought, because if his scrawny fingers felt like that, how would his cock feel.

"You're pussy's so tight, bunny. Fuck it feels too good"

He starts to move fasters, your cries are beginning yo mix with moans and your whispered 'stop's' doesn't seem to register through Peter's ears, ignoring how violently your body starts shaking and how you seem out of breath.

He kneels to kiss your cunt, his tongue making its way through your folds and his hand grabbing your ass. He takes off the Spider-Man suit as fast as he can and frees his cock, starting to stroke his cock with his fingers inside of you.

"Do you like how Spider-Man makes you feel, baby?"

"Stop, sir, please. S'not right" You cry.

"But it is, baby. It's just right, it's what people who love each other do, didn't you say you loved me?" He pouts, and you catch a glimpse of his lips quivering; "Were you lying?"

You shake your hand, tears leaving your eyes because it felt wrong and you made Spider-Man sad.

"Love you" You moan, trying to make him feel better.

"Oh, baby" He moans, taking his cock and spanking your ass with it "Love you more"

He wanted to be careful, the thought was present on him since before he got out of the club, but he was so horny, he needed to put it inside of you right away, so he did, ignoring your hurtful cries and how you tried to climb on the car to get away from him.

He took your hips, thrusting deeper into you, slowly, because he wasn't a monster after all.

"Hurts, sir"

You cry, and he feels his cock harden, the look of your teary eyes, mascara streaming down your face and hands in your back. He cummed inside once, the first of the night he thought, and you felt a sudden peace when his warm cum traveled your walls.

"Sir?"

"That's my cum, doll" He starts, taking your body and flipping you, lowering his face to your cunt and smiling at how the white sticky fluid was trying to scape your pussy "S' like medics" He continued "Gonna make you feel better, alright?"

And you, full of ignorance, nod, exhaling and maintaining your back up with your hands. Peter starts to lick your folds again, wildly, like he was starving, he dingers it, moving his hand like an expert and sucking your clit, making you squirm uncontrollably, looking at him with mouth open, moaning, crying, because you don't know what it's happening to your body and if what you felt was right or wrong.

It feel... strange, your stomach was tickling and you didn't know why or how but something made you feel like you wanted, no, needed, more.

Your legs hug Peter's head and he smiles, taking your tights and deepening his tongue inside of you, you throw back your head and Peters pulls away, starting to finger you fast, making you feel exactly what you needed.

"Sir..." You say, in a whisper, almost in a moan "Feels weird"

And he smiles without stopping his fingers, holding your legs open every time you wanted to close them, "How weird, bunny?"

"Wanna pee"

You cry in embarrassment and plead for him to let you go to the bathroom, gaining a 'no' every time you asked him to stop. He doesn't think about it twice when he feels you cumming, a scandalous moan leaving your lips that made you almost feel ashamed, but you didn't even knew what a moan was, or how it should sound.

Peter opens your legs and slicks his –again– hard cock inside of you, feeling the cold breeze between you both and if it wasn't because Peter Parker was your friend, he would've take the mask off right there. His cock in thrusting into you while his fingers are circling your clit, you hug his torso with your legs and let your back collapse into the car, opening them like a reflex.

Peter takes his cock out and kisses your swollen pussy once more, fingering you now with three fingers, taking advantage of the stretching his cock did. You couldn't hold still, your body squirming at a violent motion, trying to pull him away from you with your tiny little weak hand, which had nothing against Spider-Man's big and strong body.

One of your legs was moving on the air and the other was feeling the cold metal against your skin, extending and distending at the overstimulation.

You couldn't take it anymore, your cries should advert Peter of it, your tired voice and your shaking body, but he had much more cum to go.

"Let's go, princess" He says softly "You can go more, I know you can, your body is begging me for it"

But your body couldn't beg, you weren't even aware it could talk, but today you discovered your body knew what you wanted even before you could think of it, much before you could even process what was happening, because even if your mind seemed oblivious to what was happening, your body knew what it needed.

"I'm gonna let you all full with my cum, baby. You'll get back to your friends with my cum stuffed in your pretty pussy" He says, thrusting into you again, holding your leg up and taking your hand to put it in your clit. You look at him in horror "Move it, princess. How you want it doesn't matter, make yourself feel good"

"That's a sin" You whisper, scare of the mere word, he smirks and shook his head; "S' alright, Spider-Man's asking you to do it"

"Is fine if Spider-Man asks?"

"Oh, baby" He moans "Everything's alright if Spider-Man asks you for it"

And with that, a small part of your mind telling you to feel dirty disappeared. You move your hand as he ordered and he still thrusting into you, He stops your hand to take both of your legs and takes them to his shoulders, making you scream and now it was pure pleasure.

Your body felt good, and you didn't want to prive yourself from the pleasure, but you wanted him to stop. Because this doesn't feel right.

Peter pulls your hand and makes you sit, getting close to him and kissing your lips, making you think that maybe it wasn't that bad after all, because everything was right if you were sharing a kiss.

"You're so fucking pretty" He moans, guiding your leg to his shoulder again and grabbing your hair, pulling you closer to him and kissing you, like he knew you were needing that assurance,

You stop thinking for a moment and just get stuck in the kiss, moaning in his lips for how close you were, for how good it feel, it was almost understandable this felt wrong in your mind, dirty, because if you were having any remorse you couldn't possibly stop doing this.

Peter hugs you and holds you close, hiding his face in your neck and thrusting violently into you, confident in what he was doing.

You cry, and you weren't sure if it was because you felt tired or because you felt so overwhelmed. Now Peter grabs your neck, closing his fist around your skin and smirking with his face close to you.

"Who's the prettiest girl in Brooklyn?" He asks, earning a smile from you "You– fuck..." he thrusts "You are, princess. Such a pretty fucking baby" He says, kissing your nose and leaning to whisper in your ear "You're such a pretty tiny little thing"

And with that he cums inside of you again, flipping you and letting your hips to start bouncing in his cock, watching as your body tries to get close to him so he could thrust deeper; "God, I turned you into a whore" He chuckles and you moan.

"Alright, my cute pretty whore, gonna make you feel even better, right? Gonna cum again?" He asks, chuckling because he knows, he knows you have no idea what cum means.

"I want your mouth, baby" He says, pulling your body and sitting you on the concrete of the street, leaning his cock to your face "Open"

He says, and since he said everything was valid if Spider-Man asks you for it, you open your mouth wide, he has to do all the work, you're clueless to what you're doing, gagging when in the hear of the moment Peter puts his cock deeper, feeling your throat close and the air wasn't entering your body.

And that was it.

You put your hands in his pelvis, pulling him away from you, feeling suffocated and your stomach upset.

You can't tell him to stop, you're chocking in his cock and the tears on your face don't seem to concern him, he's enjoying how your soft lips feel around his cock and how your small throat hugs him. You almost choke when your nose meets his pubic bone and a few seconds later he finally lets you go, you crawl away from him, trying to win back the air you lost.

Your chest moves up and down quickly, your eyes filled with terror and Peter takes your hair, pulling you to him again, stroking his cock while you cry and he opens your mouth with his big and strong hand since you refused to do such thing for him, finally coming undone inside your mouth.

"Swallow, baby doll"

You're crying, and you flinch back when he tries to touch you again, Peter in exchange puts his hands up and walks back, allowing you to stand up and fix your clothes, panicking installing in your body.

"You alright, bunny?" He asks nonchalantly, as if you weren't wishing you were dead, as if you didn't feel like dying just minutes ago. "Can I help you?"

"No!" You yell, taking Peter's –your friend Peter– jacket, covering you with it in an attempt to feel protected. "Please, no"

You whisper, and he just puts the suit on. Leaving a kiss on your cheek before you flinched back and swinging away from you.

★

"Y/N, oh, Jesus Christ" Peter yelled as soon as he saw you leaving the parking lot "What the fu– what're you doing here, alone, we were worried sick" He says, examining your body and swallowing his smirk when he smells your pussy full of cum. Finally he hugs you "Don't do this to us, sweetheart, we were concerned about you"

"Sorry" You say, your voice sounding small and broken, feeling like you wanted to cry, feeling the shame hugging your body because how were you suppose to tell your best friend Spider-fucking-Man railed you there, in the parking lot, outside with the people walking by the street. "Didn't mean to"

You pout and he smiles, vanishing it with his thumb and kissing your forehead "S' everything alright?" He wonders and you want to tell him, but it doesn't feel like something you should extern, because you don't want Peter treating you any different. "Was someone with you?"

You nod, hiding your face in his chest "Spider-Man?"

You tell him in a whisper, your words sounding like a whisper, scared Peter wouldn't believe you, scared that he would get mad; "The mean one?"

"I don't know"

#peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker blurb #peter parker x you #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #spider man smut #spider man x reader #spider man fanfiction #spider man angst #peter parker angst #dark!peter parker #dark!spider man #cw. dubcon #cw. noncon

[rad1og1rl]

sweet tooth.

miguel o’hara x reader. angst. fwb.

miguel was scarred.

not just from battle, not just from accidents,

but from life. his life.

you could see the scars on his body, but you could feel the scars on his mind.

his skin was marred by countless fights and wins and fails and fails.

but his mind was tortured more than his body was.

being spider-man was a sacrifice.

being spider-man destroyed him.

mentally more than physically. he was anxious, and angry, and sporadic… maybe at the spider-verse, maybe at himself.

you tried to be there for him. be a shoulder to cry on, an outlet for his anger, a stress-reliever.

you thought it was one-sided. that he just hooked up with you, not even for fun.

for you, it was fun at first. and then it no longer was. he could be so sweet when he wasn’t angry.

he’d kiss your shoulder while he was behind you, licking up the blood his fangs left behind.

he’d shower you in terms of endearment even when he was angry. grunts of cariño, mi vida, amor.

that sweetness that he only reserved for sometimes, pulled you in like a syrupy honey. stuck you to him. to his side.

you developed a sweet tooth, craving the sugar his affections provided.

he was sweetest before he left. when he had the time, which was rare, to hold you during sleep. to press your back to his chest, and to keep you warm in his post-haze.

sometimes, late at night, he’d let you hold him. he was most vulnerable during the late nights in your apartment.

you’d coddle and cradle him, and even though he stood at 6’9, he buried himself into your chest and your sheets like a child.

you thought he was hiding. you didn’t know from what.

and it was a night like that, where you had found yourself finally asking just what kind of relationship the two of you had.

“mi cielo?” miguel’s red eyes flickered up to meet yours, brows furrowing at the term of endearment as he kept his gaze focused on your face, arms constricting your waist.

“I….I want to know, if … this,” you said, looking at him tiredly. “means anything to you. if it’s worth something. if we are something.”

miguel’s eyes didn’t leave yours, but he untangled himself from you to sit up, staring your lying form down as his gaze hardened.

“i have no use for this type of thing anymore. the fate of the multiverse lies in my hands, and i can’t busy themselves with you and your emotions.”

his statement broke you, like a punch through a mirror or a drop of a glass, shards of you splintering and cracking as the dam broke and the tears poured.

you sat up and buried your face into your hands, watching as he rose from your bed and acted as if everything was normal, as if he didn’t hear your anguish while he transitioned back into his suit.

as you watched his suit climb up his body, you watched his many scars disappear beneath it.

the scars you kissed over and over.

the scars that made him spider-man.

he didn’t spare you a glance as he opened your bedroom window, slipping out and heading off into the night without a goodbye.

a part of you hoped he’d want to be something. a part of you hoped his affections weren’t just for show, or the moment. a really, really delusional part of you hoped it was because he actually cared about you.

your sweet tooth, would be your undoing, for it was a sweetness you craved that he could no longer provide.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv drabble #atsv fanfiction #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #angst #spider man angst

[jupitercomet]

key - ⚘ fluff, ☏ angst, ☁︎ 18+, ⍟ personal favorite 

one shots;

the office’s guide to falling in love ⚘

series;

nothing yet!

#peter parker imagine #peter parker imagines #peter parker x reader #peter parker one shots #peter parker series #peter parker au #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #spider man imagine #spider man imagines #spider man x reader #spider man one shots #spider man series #spider man au #spider man fluff #spider man angst #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #buggy's got a pen

[liz-allyn]

I just finished part 6 of hotm and I’m currently bawling my eyes out. You have no idea how much I love your writing and your stories. Please never stop writing and sharing your beautiful gift. 💗

Thank you, sweet person. I needed to hear this today! You made my day.

I’m glad that you liked it, and that it gave you hopefully happy tears 🥹

#review angels 💜 #💬 heat of the moment #peter parker x reader #peter parker angst #spider man angst

[kvthgok]

SOBBING RN THIS IS NOT OKAY..

(Lovely artwork done by @Melteeyo on Twitter)

#miguel ohara #im not crying you are #astv #astv miguel #spiderman atsv #atsv fanart #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel spiderverse #jessica drew #peter b parker #spiderman #fanart #sobbing #spider man 2099 #across the spider verse fanart #angst #spiderman astv #astv peter

[intoxicated-chan]

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

#x reader #x female reader #fluff #angst #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spider man x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman 2099 #spiderman x y/n #spider man across the spider verse #spider man 2099 #spiderverse #spider man x y/n #spider man x you #spiderman x reader

[sillyblues]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐠𝐧!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: miguel tells you how annoying you are

ੈ✩‧₊˚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: last and second part of annoying is here!! thank you so much for the huge support yall broke my app my notifications weren’t loading properly lmao THANK YOU! this was supposed to be just a short one but here we are with a part two and a bit bigger word count m’gonna need rest and need more time for the preggo fic

part 1

Wordlessly, you left the team. You returned to your own Earth and did your own thing again. There was a slight tinge of unfamiliarity, knowing that you might never work with other spider people, your friends, again, but you forced the feeling down.

Miguel’s outburst haunted you wherever you went. Even as you fought villains that disturbed the peacefulness of your home, even as you mingled with the other civilians and hung out with your friends, even as you laid down in the comfort of your bed, his words would constantly echo through your head, and they would threaten the fall of your tears every single time.

If Miguel thought you were annoying, what about your other friends? Do they think you were bothersome as well? Maybe, you bitterly thought as you brought your knees to your face. Maybe the civilians don’t like you as well. The thought of the people you treasure and care for so dearly, the people whom you devoted most of your life to save, the people whom you risk getting hurt every day for, hating you, left you breathless.

More tears fell, and you gasped. The ache in your heart was too much to bear and seemed to sting your entire being. You clutched your chest as you laid sideways on your bed, pillows and blanket long scattered on the floor. You tried to muffle your cries, but it was useless, as they still vibrated through the room of your apartment.

Oh, god. Please don’t hate me. Don’t hate me, please. Don’thatemepleasedon’thatemeplease—

“[Name]?” the familiar voice momentarily halted you in your weeping. You slowly rose a bit, supporting yourself on your arm and looked towards the source of it. Peter’s worried look greeted you as he crawled himself out of your window. 

“Oh, [Name].” you wavered at his heartbroken voice. He immediately rushed in to hug you. He sat on your bed beside you and embraced you. He rocked you back and forth, one hand on the back of your head that leaned into the crook of his neck, and one hand caressed your back.

“P-Peter, I ca– I can’t,” you hiccupped, and with shaking fingers, you gripped his suit tight. You felt your heart would burst with the way it was beating so fast and hard, ringing in your ears. “I can’t— I can’t breathe.”

“It’s okay, [Name]. I got you. I’m here, okay?” his voice was slightly muffled by the top of your head, but you could still hear him. “I want you to listen to me. Stay with me, yeah?”

You tried your best to respond, but it felt like your body wasn’t listening to you. He pulled back a little and held your face in his hands. You look at his eyes full of undisguised concern overflowing, and you desperately hope he doesn’t hate you too. You gathered what was left of your little strength and nodded weakly.

“Can you tell me three things around your room?” you try to look around as you cling to his arms. You looked away from his eyes and looked around you. Your old lampshade provided you with dim lighting in your dark, cold room. Your messy books were in disarray on the table. You saw a mirror. You saw yourself and how miserable you looked. Your face was wet with tears, and your eyes were red. You also saw how Peter looked at you with such solicitude, and you want to cry all over again.

“Um, lampshade.” You said and winced at the painful scratch in your throat and your hoarse voice. “Books. Mirror.”

“Good job. You did well. Can you move three body parts for me?” you unclasped your hands from his arms and tried to clench and unclench them. You wiggled your head out of his hold, embarrassment starting to creep onto you being seen so sticky and so wet and such a mess. It was fortunate that he understood and he chuckled. You were silent for a moment, and you didn't know what else to move so you settled on headbutting Peter.

“Ow! Of all things, really? Can't believe this is what I get,” he grumbled as he rubbed his forehead. You giggled at his exaggerated expression and unknowingly to you, your tears had stopped flowing, and only hiccups remained.

“Are you feeling better, [Name]? You can talk to me, my shoulder is vacant for you. Or do you want me to just stay quiet? Because yeah, I can do either. Just tell me what to do,” you chuckled even more at that. “I’ll even give you a pass for laughing at me.”

Seeing Peter comfort you like that, there was a sense of relief wash over you. It was obvious he was being genuine with you and if he wasn't, he most likely wouldn't even have the patience to sit with you and let you cry on him.

“It's nothing, um, it's just that,” you sighed as you weakly played with your fingers. The words are lodged in your throat, and you slowly breathe out. He looked at you with encouragement to take it slow, to breathe and you did. “I found out people at the headquarters think I talk too much and they didn’t really like me. Then I made Miguel mad, and I learned how I was annoying him. He probably hates me. And, uh, it got me thinking, what if you and Jess and Hobie think the same way? What if everyone thinks the same way?”

There was an urge to cry again, but it felt like you had cried it all out. There was none left for you to cry anymore.

“Wow, I knew Miguel was all bite and no bark, but I didn’t expect he’d bite that deep. What the hell is wrong with him?” the genuine disbelief made you sputter and chuckle. 

“First of all, whoever doesn’t like you is automatically wrong. I mean, who could not like you? You literally make everyone’s day. Jess loves gushing with you about her husband, and Hobie loves talking about how his punk stuff and fighting the literal government which I think it’s really pretty cool of him don’t tell him that he’s going to tell me I should do it as well and I just can’t,” he said. “And I love talking to you because you’re funny and so positive you just know how to make me cheer up. Besides, I’m talking too much now, aren’t I? Always have been. But did you think I was annoying?”

“No! I never once thought you were one.” You replied without a beat.

“Exactly. Us either. Look, [Name], everyone loves you. Trust me when I say that.” He said with confidence and finality that you had no choice but to believe him,

“But, Miguel..”

“He's stupid. I know. Don’t mind what he said because it’s all bullshit anyways.” He grins. “Lyla told me what happened. I’m not taking his side because what he said is just wrong and I get you, you know? Having to hear all of that hurts. But from the bottom of my heart, I think Miguel did not mean what he said. Like, all the pent-up stress got to his head and boom, it suddenly burst out. I’m not saying that it was a valid reason, no. I just wanted to let you know that he doesn’t truly think you’re annoying, you know?”

“Besides, from all the time I knew him, I had never seen him genuinely enjoy his time with someone nor mope so bad when you didn’t come to the headquarters anymore.” He said with a deadpan expression at the end.

“Pfft, really?”

“Yes, really.”

There was a pause, it wasn’t awkward but it made you appreciate him more for coming here for you. He smiled at you and you did too, leaning on his shoulder for support. He hugged you sideways, one arm rubbing the side of your arm and you closed your eyes.

“I missed you, [Name]. We all did.”

“...I missed you all too.”

.

.

.

The decision to come back to the headquarters was a bit hard but you took it slow with Peter’s support. He never rushed you nor forced you to come back which you really appreciated and when you did return, you were sure you didn’t regret it. Jess and Hobie immediately latched onto you, they hugged you tight and told you how much they missed you so bad. They asked you how had you been, if you were alright, if were you hurt, and all that. Seeing their sincere worry for you, you smiled hard enough to hurt your cheeks and slowly you were going back to the old, happy you.

What changed right now was that you avoided Miguel. When you first returned to the headquarters, Miguel was there a bit far away from you. You could feel his earnest gaze at you and you looked at him briefly. The bags underneath his eyes seemed to be bigger and you wonder if he had gotten a bit bigger too. A reminder of his words rang instantly through your head and you breathed deeply silently. You quickly looked away as soon as you laid your eyes on him and that remained true for a couple of weeks.

During the briefing of your missions, he would look at you expectantly as if you would stand beside him like you always did. But you usually stood nearby Hobie who was at the entrance of his office. Sometimes you stood beside Jess and Peter which was a bit near him but not quite so.

“You’re not gonna be near him?” Hobie once asked as he lay down on a flat surface. He nudged his head in Miguel’s direction who was looking at you a couple of times as he talked about the mission details. You smiled bitterly. 

“Aight, guess I got more time to catch up with you, huh?” the tip of his lips lifted up, “Wanna leg it and come join the protest in my home?”

“Oh no.” you silently snorted.

“What? It’s fun and we’re doing the right thing, you know.”

“Hobie, are you listening?” Miguel’s voice interrupted you both. You look away, not yet keen on looking at him.

“Yes, big boss. Ears open for you, don’t worry about me,” he stretched his arms before he folded them to lay his head on his clasped fingers. You wondered why he hadn’t called you when you weren’t really listening to him as well. Maybe he targeted Hobie on purpose to make you feel uncomfortable? You bit your lip. No, that can’t be. Peter said Miguel didn’t hate you and you trusted him so despite the voices haunting voices once more, you decided to believe in him.

Sometimes, you two would meet outside the building on his favourite Mexican stand outside the building. Maybe it was a habit formed over the time you knew him that you would buy him his empanadas. Now that you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him just yet, you bought some for yourself. You could not deny that you missed buying his food, only to eat half of it yourself.

“Ah, it’s [Name]! How have you been? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Mrs. Flores exclaimed as soon as she saw your walking figure towards her. You two have gotten close a bit back then and has since then insisted you to call her ‘Abuela’. “Have you lost weight? You’ve gotten smaller since I last saw you!”

You didn’t think you did but before you could deny she was immediately cooking some empanadas, “Just wait, I’ll cook some for you, okay? No need to pay.”

“Abuela, thank you, but I can’t accept this without payment. Please, let me pay,” you opened your wallet and took some money but she wasn’t having it.

“No! I told you I don’t need any money! Do I look like I need some, huh? Don’t make me angry,” she threateningly pointed her clamps at you. You just sighed, knowing full well that her stubbornness was stronger than any villain you had fought. Suddenly, a figure crept behind you and you paid it no mind, figuring it was some other customer but the voice surprised you.

“Buenas tardes, Señora. Lo de siempre por favor.” You looked at Miguel in reflex. He wore a plain white shirt and trousers and oh, he was so close to you. His mouth opened as if he wanted to say something but hesitation dripped from him so you took the opportunity to look away and stepped to your side to create some distance between you.

“Oh, ¿es tú novio, [Name]? ¡Lo sabía! Why didn’t you say so? He’s been the one buying empanadas instead when you were gone.” You choked on your own saliva and embarrassment immediately crept up your cheeks. You coughed it out as she side-eyed you. Miguel was silent and you wonder if he wasn’t going to clear this misunderstanding up.

“You had a fight, didn’t you?”

“No, Abuela, he’s not my boyfriend—”

“He isn’t? ¡Qué hombre más estúpido! Are your eyes not properly working? What are you still waiting for?” she snorted at him. The bubbling noises from the oil fill the silence as you didn’t really know how to respond in this situation. 

“Well whatever, you will fix it, won’t you?” she glared at him. In that moment, you felt loved once more and you were starting to truly believe that those who said you were annoying were wrong. You bit your lip. You did not deny to yourself that you were expecting to hear his answer.

“I will.” He replied with such determination and resolution as he looked at you. Your heart throbbed, you saw how much he wanted to fix things right with you and you didn’t know how to feel. Glad? Happy? But you also felt upset at yourself because you almost wanted to smile just because of that and it felt like you were too easy in forgiving him even though he hurt you so much. You quickly dismissed the confusing feelings down and when Abuela gave you the empanadas, you hurriedly slipped some bills while you took the food and almost ran off.

But everything would have to come to an end, including this avoidance of yours of him. You sorted out your thoughts, and your feelings, each day as you avoided him like a plague after numerous encounters because you feared that if you saw him one more time, you would burst out and say things that you didn’t mean like he did. 

On the day that you decided to finally stop everything and just talk to him, you were beaten to it by Miguel. You were looking through the windows in the building and stared at the beautiful blue skies and the white clouds that decorated it. The flying cars and the mega train running vertically were like the birds and the beam of sunlight back in your home and you were reminded of the differences you and Miguel had. 

“[Name],” his voice was so soft, so unlike the tone he had the day he yelled at you. You admit you had gotten comfortable with the pain you felt since that day that you still wanted to evade his gazes and attempts to reach out to you. But the rational part of you, the one that grew from the pain, knew you had to meet his eyes this time. To let him reach you this time. And so you did. You looked at him, you looked at his eyes that were looking at you so desperately, so hesitatingly.

“Can we talk, please? Just the two of us,” he said but to you, it felt like he pleaded with the way his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw was clenched, awaiting your words that seemed like it would decide his fate.

“Okay,” you breathed out and he did too. The crease on his forehead slowly thinned out and his shoulders moved back. You knew that if someone different saw Miguel like this, they would think he was normal and that he wasn’t acting differently. But you knew better. Despite the tough shell he portrayed, there was a man vulnerable just like you. You just had a soft shell.

You two went to his office and the door closed behind you two. He asked Lyla to not let anyone enter for at least a while so nobody would disturb you both. She saw you and waved brightly at you. She then nodded and finally disappeared.

“Before you say anything, can you honestly answer this one question I have? Just one, please,” you asked him, nerves started to creep onto you and you wanted to look away so bad but you have to search for the truth in his eyes. You have to know his answer to your question.

“Sure, yes. I’ll be honest, I swear.” He promised you.

“Did you ever really think I was annoying? That all I do was nothing but cause trouble for you?”

“Never.” 

“Liar.” You were disappointed. You were not as stupid and oblivious as others thought of you. There was a part of yourself that knew that you were bothering them. That you were bothering him. But you couldn’t help it. You cared for him and if talking too much, if bothering him would make him distracted from the grief and the pain he had from Gabriella then you would gladly do it.

“No, I wasn’t lying, [Name]—” you looked away. He couldn’t even be honest with you. Were you that unworthy of honesty? That was all you had asked. You clenched your fist and let your nails dig into your palm. “Listen to me, please.”

You start to walk away.

“[Name], por favor,”

You were nearing the exit.

“I— fuck it, yes! I didn’t like you because you were so annoying. I hated you.” You immediately looked back at him. Disbelief was obvious in your face and tears fell from your eyes. You felt a sense of betrayal at this. If he hated me so much, then why did he let me so close to him? Were you just a show to him? Were you entertaining? He was approaching you and strength had left your legs from the shock at what he said but you remained still.

“I hated the way you talked so much I felt like I was losing a part of myself because I wanted to know more about you and listen to you talk. I hated the way you know so much about me. I felt like you could see through me and I was so scared that you would hate me if you knew what I truly am. I hated the way you cared for me like no other because I cared for you too and I was so terrified to lose you too. I hated the way you’re so reckless, you don’t care if you get hurt as long as it’s for others.” He stopped in front of you and tears were also coming out from his eyes. “I hated the way you captured my whole attention whenever you’re there by my side because I can’t look at anything else anymore. I can’t work properly anymore. I can’t think properly anymore and– and I, oh fuck.”

What?

“You’re so annoying because you distract me so much. I hated you because I fell for you and you’re all I could think about and I just don’t know anymore,” he shakily breathed out. His figure was so big but at this moment, you felt like he was so small. His tears ran continuously like a furious stream and you were sure yours were too.

“When you left, it didn’t feel right anymore. I missed you talking to me. I missed you eating my food. I missed you annoying me. I missed you so much it hurts.” His voice turned hoarse and you finally moved. You caressed your hand on his cheeks and he leaned his face against your touch. “Lo siento, [Name]. I really am. Es la verdad, por favor créeme. Por favor…”

“Are you stupid? Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried out as you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tight. But you couldn’t really blame him. Because he was the same as you. Despite his flying cars and vertical running train and your birds and beam of sunlight, there was still the same blue sky and white clouds. Despite his tough shell and your soft one, you two were just as vulnerable as the other.

“I’m sorry, don’t hate me please…” he croaked out and gripped onto your suit tight. You leaned back a bit to hold his face in your palms. His face was wet, his hair was a mess, and he looked so haggard. You lean your forehead against his.

“I don’t, I promise. I could never hate you and I hate you for it as well,” you giggled amidst your tears. 

Really, he was such a stupid man and you were so annoying.

tag-list: (i'm sorry if i wasn't able to tag you!) @nxrdamp @um-well @nanasdumbworld @myconglomerateromance @sleepyamaya @harlekin6 @bittersw33t-lotus @saturnknows @miggyoharaswife @innergardentoadpony @asobriquet @mimooyi @misscaller06 @sciencethot @vainillasmil157 @just-a-mothboi @katsukiswrld @zukiizuks @cumbermovels @bigmood-myman @momos-peaches @lunrai @saint-chlorine @themoonsaynotocircus @deputy-videogamer @brittney69 @armins-ocean-seashell @galadrien02 @ranp01 @witherfag @eileen201804 @daryldixonh0e @chinglewingledingledong @mystar-girl57 @lorarri @poopoobuttsy @scarletsloveletter @mimimarvelingmarvel @tfygcdy @skulfan1 @roryrose327 @gamersansblog

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐ #spiderverse 2 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv angst

[hurtspideyparker]

The scene in spider-man homecoming where Peter is trapped under the rubble of the building and yelling for help is one of my favourite angst scenes of all time.

Hello! Please, hey. Hey please I'm down here. I'm stuck, I can't move. I can't -

I adore it so much because it's a great culmination of the movie's message; Spider-Man is really just a kid with the weight of too much responsibility on his back that he's learning to shoulder all on his own. And yeah, that's scary, and no, he shouldn't have to carry all that by himself.

In that moment Peter sounds absolutely terrified. You can hear his voice, so young, breaking because he's about to cry. He genuinely believes he's gonna die there, trapped and alone at 15.

It's gut-wrenching and I love it.

#spider man #tom holland #peter parker #spider man homecoming #spider man angst #peter parker angst #spider man whump #peter parker whump #spiderman homecoming #spider-man #spider man: homecoming #spiderman #marvel mcu

[daisies-daydreams]

Your Hobie fics are so good ahhh. I was wondering if I could request a gn reader who lives with abusive family getting comfort and reassurance from Hobie? Like telling you you aren't imagining the abuse and it IS as bad as you feel it is and it ISN'T normal and you DO deserve love and kindness and just sort of holding you and reaffirming reality and positive attributes like intelligence and letting you know your body is okay, etc. Sorry if this is long or too specific!! Thank you for the fics you've already written either way!

I’m Here (Hobie Brown x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

Category: Angst/Comfort

Warnings: Depictions of Physical/Verbal Abuse, Alcoholism, Blood, Bruises, Mentions of Suicidal Ideation, Swearing

Word Count: 2k+

A/N: Hello hello and thank you for your request! I’ve never really written a fic like this one before, but I hope I’m able to provide you with comfort with it…and I hope more than anything that you’re safe.

IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW/LOVE IS IN DANGER, CALL 911 (USA/CANADA) OR 999 (UK) IMMEDIATELY.

(More resources for seeking help will be listed at the end)

It all happened so fast.

You came home from a long night out, making sure to gently close the back door as you crept towards your room. Your mother was passed out at the table. You sighed as you laid your jacket over her shoulders before creeping down the hallway. You gasped when you felt a large hand squeeze your shoulder before you were slammed against the wall.

“Where the fuck ‘ave you been?” your father slurred as he wobbled back and forth. You wrinkled your nose as the acerbic stench of booze filled your nostrils.

“I was out with friends,” you said in a monotone voice as you glanced down at your shoes. You yelped when he struck your nose, blood gushing down your face as you desperately held back tears.

“Don’t give me that tone, you stupid fuckin’ brat,” he hissed. You kept your head turned away, only to be met with a sharp sting against your cheek. Your head spun as you collapsed onto the floor, your father quickly picking you up by the collar of your shirt and shaking you.

“It’s just a bad dream,” you told yourself as his spit flew in your face, his furious tone fading to sound like a voice underwater. “It’ll all be over soon”.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you!” he roared. You reluctantly stared into his bloodshot eyes, your lips twitching ever so slightly as you heard your mother wailing in the other room. Your heart dropped as you felt him curl his fist inside your shirt.

“Now look at what you did! You made your mum upset!” he seethed. You frowned as a lump formed in your throat at the sound of your mother’s cries. You knew deep down it wasn’t true, but before you could even blink, your father tossed you down the hall. You yelped as you curled your arms around your head, your entire body jolting with a sharp pain as your old man stomped over.

“Get the fuck out of this house-now!” your father bellowed. You held your cheek before scrambling away, your entire body aching as you rushed out the back door. Your heart was pounding inside your ears as you stumbled through the gate, the smell of sewage and cigarettes causing you to gag. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked down the dimly lit street, your body now trembling as the adrenaline hit you.

You didn’t even realize you were crying until you let out a small sniff. Your cheeks burned as you looked down at your scraped up shoes, hugging yourself even tighter despite the pain that seeped into your muscles. You blinked away the sheet of tears as you approached River Thames, the dark water reflecting the lights of the city.

You sniffed and wiped your nose on your sleeve, your eyes not even widening as you saw a familiar crimson soak into the fabric of your shirt. You quickly turned your attention back to the river, debating on whether you should submerge yourself in the cold water as you stepped to the edge of the dock. You sucked in a sharp breath as you closed your eyes, the pain fading for a moment as you imagined it all ending in an instant…

“(Y/N)?” a familiar voice called. You opened your eyes as you nearly tripped forward. You gasped quietly when you saw your friend, Hobie, standing on the deck of his longboat. You flinched when he jumped over the railing and rushed towards you, the whites of his eyes growing larger when he saw your broken nose.

“Love…what happened to you?” he asked with furrowed brows as he kept his hands at his sides. You tilted your head down as your cheeks burned again. Hobie stood silently before gently nudging your hand with his. You jumped back as your shoulders tensed, mind racing at his simple touch. Hobie frowned as his brows knitted together.

“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said softly. You lowered your head as you felt his gaze on you, ashamed of being around him in such a state. Hobie was always the one who knew what do to, always so put together. Falling apart in front of him terrified you…and yet, you couldn’t stop the tears that gushed down your face.

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed as you rubbed your hands over your tired eyes. Hobie was quickly at your side, his hands hovering around your waist as you shook like thin branches in the wind. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you repeated as you hiccuped.

“Shhh, it’s alright,” your friend cooed. You released a shaky breath as your body burned and ached. Hobie cleared his throat before tilting his head towards his boat. “Why don’t you come inside, yeah?” he said.

You gulped and nodded, shivering as another gust of wind blasted down the docks. Hobie held his hand out, his expression soft as he spread out his fingers. You parted your lips as you slowly slid your hand into his. He gave you a gentle smile before leading you towards his home on the water. You sighed as a wave of warmth washed over you as you stepped inside. Hobie closed the door behind you before guiding you to his rugged sofa.

“Wait ‘ere a moment. There’s tissues on the coffee table for your nose,” he said. You nodded before sinking into his couch, your hands shaking as you pulled a few tissues up to your face. You winced as you pinched the bridge of your nose, the sting bleeding into your bones. You gazed down at your lap as Hobie brought over a pack of frozen peas, a bottle of water, and some ibuprofen. He sat down next to you as he handed you the items.

“Nothin’ feels broken, does it?” he asked. You shook your head as you opened the bottle of water and popped two pills into your mouth. You gulped it down before squeezing your eyes shut. You remained stiff for a bit before taking the cold peck and sinking into the couch cushions. The space heater hummed in the corner of the room as you felt the pain ebb and flow through your body.

“You want somethin’ to eat?” Hobie asked. You sniffed and shook your head, the blood flow thinning from your nose as you sighed. Hobie gave a slow nod before shifting in his seat. “(Y/N)…we both know this didn’t happen ‘cause you slipped,” he suddenly said. You felt your face grow cold as your throat tightened. You clenched the pack of peas as you gritted your teeth.

“It’s nothing,” you said.

“It’s not nothing, (Y/N). Your bleedin’ from your nose, got a mark across your cheek an’ bruises all over you,” he said, his normally calm tone wavering as his voice cracked. Your heart sank when you saw his eyes become glossy, his frown deep and sullen as he stared at your face.

“Look at what you did…”

“I-I’m sorry,” you swallowed. “I’m sorry I made you upset,” you breathed. Hobie shook his head.

“I’m not upset at you love-I’m fuckin’ pissed at whoever did this to you,” he said curtly. You blinked as your fingers dug into the pack, your body tensing at his words. Your shoulders sank as you gripped the edge of the couch cushion with your other hand.

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you said. You swallowed the lump in your throat before releasing a stuttering breath. “It’s my fault, anyway…” you muttered. The sofa creaked as Hobie inches a bit closer to you.

“No it’s not,” he said firmly. You shook your head as you whipped your head around.

“Yes it is!” you screamed. Hobie’s face tightened as you flared your nostrils. “It’s always my fault! It’s my fault that my dad drinks! It’s my fault that my mum’s a mess! It’s…it’s always my fault,” you shivered as tears rushed from your eyes. You shook your head as you ducked away, not wanting to see his look of disappointment at your sudden outburst. “If I wasn’t born, maybe she wouldn’t have stayed with him,” you thought aloud. “If I wasn’t born…maybe he would’ve been different,” you choked.

“Oi,” Hobie grunted. You didn’t look up, didn’t want to subject yourself to even more embarrassment than you’ve already endured. “You know none of that’s your fault, right?” he said. You slowly glanced up to see him giving you a gentle, sympathetic look. You blinked away a few more tears before resting your forehead on his shoulder. Hobie let you slowly inch towards him, pressing your body against his. He cooed as he wrapped his arms around your shivering frame as if he were shielding you.

“None of it’s your fault,” Hobie reassured you as he stroked your back. Your tears soaked into his t-shirt as he held you close. “Your dad drinkin’ and bein’ an arsehole is his choice, not yours,” your friend affirmed. You nodded, though the voice of your father still echoed inside of your head.

“I’m so stupid,” you blurted out. Hobie pulled back a little as he furrowed his brows.

“Why do you say that?” he asked. You sighed.

“My dad always says I’m stupid. Or clumsy. Or ugly…” your voice trailed off as you pushed your head against his arm.

“Well, he’s a fuckin’ twat,” Hobie seethed. Your jaw dropped as a small sound escaped from your tight throat. To say he looked downright furious would be an understatement: his nostrils flared, eyebrows scrunched together as he clenched his jaw. You took his hand into yours and smoothed your thumb across his knuckles.

“Please, Hobie…it’s not-“

“It is, (Y/N). It is that bad…and it will always be. He’s not going to change,” he said. You squeezed his hand.

“H-He can be nice sometimes-“ you stammered.

“That’s the thing: he’s nice sometimes,” Hobie replied. Your hand shook in his as your mind raced. “(Y/N), you deserve someone to be nice-no, to be kind to you all the time,” he explained. His words shattered your heart, your chest bursting into a million pieces as you sat there with wide eyes.

“B-But everyone’s parents get upset with them. It’s normal,” you rationalized. The look on his face told you all you needed to know. You collapsed your face into your hands. “Oh, God,” you murmured. Hobie held you as he hummed quietly.

“I’m here, love,” Hobie whispered. You sniffed as he patted your upper back. “We’re here,” he murmured. You nodded and swallowed thickly.

“And you know what? You’re not stupid. You’re far from it,” he said. You sniffed as he squeezed your hand this time. “You’re bloody brilliant,” he smiled brightly as he cupped your other cheek. You leaned into his touch as he rubbed his thumb against your cheek bone.

“And even if you’re a little clumsy, that’s okay. Everyone is,” he shrugged.

“You’re not,” you frowned. Hobie grinned.

“That’s ‘cause I’m perfect,” he shrugged with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and playfully slapped his arm, making him chuckle. “Kidding,” he said. Your breath hitched as he suddenly gazed into your eyes.

“And we both know for a fact that you’re not ugly,” he murmured. Heat filled to cheek as you hit your lip.

“Hobie,” you whispered. He smiled as he patted your cheek.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. You gripped his hand as you squeezed your eyes shut.

“B-But I’m too…broken,” you gasped out. “Too many bruises and broken bones and-“

“And you’re still beautiful,” Hobie said softly. Your eyes widened as warmth instantly flooded your chest. You sat speechless for what felt like an eternity before you suddenly pulled him close to you. Hobie ran his fingers through your hair as you buried your face into his chest, your arms wrapped tightly around his wiry frame.

“Thank you,” your voice cracked. “Thank you so much, Hobie,” you sniffed. Hobie nodded as he gently rocked you side to side.

“You’re welcome, love,” he murmured.

————

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999 @mrswhitethornbelikov

Seek Help: Links/Phone Numbers

Emergency: 911 (USA/Canada), 999 (UK)

Refuge (National Domestic Abuse Helpline - UK): 0808-2000-247

National Domestic Abuse Hotline (USA): 800-799-7233

Child Help Hotline (Child Abuse Hotline - USA): 1-800-422-4453

NSPCC (Child Abuse Helpline - UK): 0808-800-5000

RAINN - Rape, Abuse, and Incest National Network (Sexual Assault Hotline - US): 800-656-4673

Rape Crisis England and Wales (Sexual Assault Support Line - UK): 0808-500-2222

Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (USA): 988

Samaritans (Suicide Helpline - UK): 116-123

National Alliance on Mental Illness (Mental Health Resource - USA): 1-800-950-6264

Mind (Mental Health Resource - UK): 0300-123-3393

Child Abuse Information (Neumors Article; includes steps on how to report abuse)

#astv hobie #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spider punk #spider punk x reader #spider punk x you #spider punk x y/n #across the spiderverse #spider man atsv #spider man angst #angst #spider man into the spider verse

[ichorai]

snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

pairing ; miguel o'hara x spider!reader (gender-neutral)

synopsis ; you were the ice to his fire—and miguel was burning for you.

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

warnings / includes ; set before the events of atsv, descriptions of injury/violence, cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions/appearances of other spidey characters, ben being a dramatic idiot, peter & may being adorable, cameos of magneto and doc ock, miguel is down so bad, can you guys tell i'm also in an asoiaf phase ? (winter is coming !!)

a/n ; there will be a part two set during the events of atsv !!

main masterlist.

You were Miguel’s seventeenth recruit. The first of your name. The first that wasn’t a Peter Parker, or a Jessica Drew, or a Ben Reilly. 

When Miguel dropped into your universe, one rife with crime and tragedy, stricken by a never-ending winter, he fell into a large pile of snow. 

“Damn it,” he whispered through chattering teeth, brushing off the frigid frost clinging to his suit and glancing around the iced-over city. There were sparse few people littering the streets, hovering over trash-fires and clutching rumbling stomachs. This was certainly a stark contrast to Nueva York—the universe looked dead, almost. A ghost town, frozen over into nothing but a glacial artifact.

Before Miguel could start forward to look for the Spider of the universe, a sticky web shot out from seemingly nowhere, binding his hands together. Ah. It seemed that you’d found him before he could find you.

“You’re not from here. I can’t smell the winter on you,” a voice echoed, saturated with curiosity, edged with caution. A second later, you materialized in front of him, clad in a white suit, sharp silver lines running over your form. On your chest was a spider, a pale snowflake engraved into its abdomen. Miguel stared at you with wide eyes. “Who are you?”

A beat of silence. 

“Your universe is cold,” was all he could think of saying, still caught off-guard. 

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

After clearing his throat, he shook himself out of his reverie. “My name is Miguel O’Hara. I’m from a different universe. I’m here to recruit you into my team to help keep the multiverse from collapsing.”

You shifted, muscles still tense. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

Lifting his wrists, Miguel twisted a hand and used his sharp claws to cut himself free of the sticky bonds. “Let me show you.”

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Miguel wasn’t supposed to like you this much. You were just meant to be another recruit for the Spider Society… maybe a close work companion, or a trusted friend at best. 

But as he watched you dart in and out of visibility, your suit only but flashes of white and silver, he couldn’t help but marvel at how easy it was to work with you. How much he genuinely enjoyed working with you, spending time with you, listening to you laugh at his stiff quips. And he really thought he was being subtle about it, but Jessica had already picked up on Miguel’s keen interest in you, always teasing him about having a crush on another Spider.

It wasn’t a crush, though. No, Miguel just really liked your work ethic.

Right?

“Heads up!” you yelled, swinging forward and using the momentum to kick an incoming car barreling right in his direction. The metal doors caved in beneath the power of your strike, veering to the left just in time to miss him. 

The two of you were taking down another anomaly that’d cropped up, one of the several dozens in only the past week. This anomaly, however, wasn’t the regular neighborhood villain they’d usually get, but instead an omega-level mutant: Magneto. 

Shards of metal rained down around you, but you were quick to deflect by thwipping out large, sticky webs to catch them before they could impale you. 

“This guy manipulates metal, Miguel!” you yelled. “Cuffs won’t work on him!” 

Another large metal pole rocketed straight for you, but Miguel dove towards you, yanking you out of the way.

“Thanks!” you told him, a bit too wound up to notice his large hands tightly wound around your midriff. “Can you distract him for me?”

Nodding wordlessly, Miguel shot out several glowing, synthetic webs in quick succession to momentarily blind Magneto. You used his shoulder to launch yourself upward, turning invisible in mid-air. 

Before the man could realize what was happening, you yanked his protective helmet off, landing a calculated strike to the back of his head. Immediately, all the bits of metal floating in the air came plummeting to the ground, and Magneto went limp in your hold. You swung down to the ground, coming back into view. 

“You’re gonna have to alert one of the Spiders that we need a metal-free cage for him,” you told Miguel, a bit breathless. 

Okay, a lot breathless. There was a sharp sting on your side—a broken piece of metal must have grazed you during the fight.

Miguel wound an arm around you to help you walk, concern festering within his chest at the sight of crimson staining your once-pristine white suit, his other hand dragging an unconscious Magneto by the scruff of his collar. With a tap of the watch, a portal opened up, flashing a multitude of bright oranges and purples. 

Back in his universe, Miguel was quick to hand Magneto over to a few Peters, telling them to be careful not to get any metal near him. You pulled off your mask and squeezed Miguel’s bicep in gratitude when he shifted his hold on you, ensuring that you wouldn’t put any weight on your injured side. Even exhausted, you were beautiful. Miguel remembered the first time he saw you without your mask: the entirety of his linguistic vernacular went flying out the window and he was left embarrassingly spluttering out a long string of incoherent sentences. You were patient with him, beaming wide and nodding emphatically, even though none of what he said had made sense. 

Yeah, alright, fine. Miguel had a crush. It really wasn’t a big deal (it was a very big deal). He’d be damned if he’d ever admit it to Jessica, though—that woman would never let him live it down.

Several Spiders waved hello to the two of you as you hobbled by, and you could only give them a winded half-smile in return. Some of them asked if you were alright, noticing the blood on your suit, but you reassured their worries away, “I’m fine. Miguel’s got me.”

A rush of protectiveness fell over him, and he clutched onto you all the tighter, hurrying to make his way back to the base. There were a few Spiders hanging around the control panels, chattering amongst themselves, and Miguel gave them a quick scan to make sure things were going smoothly since his departure. Once everything seemed to be in order, he finally tugged you into a more secluded room, helping you sit on a table as he grabbed the first aid kit. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, ripping off his mask as well. His dark hair was disheveled, sharp brown eyes softening with guilt. “I got distracted during the fight.”

“Hey, it happens,” you replied warmly, fingers lifting to pat his cheek. The feeling of your cold skin pressed up against the blistering heat emanating from his cheeks made a shiver dance up his spine. “We’re alive, and we got the anomaly. Everything’s fine.” 

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

With careful, fleeting touches, Miguel drew back the ripped fabric of your suit to inspect the gash in your side. He cleaned away as much blood as he could, murmuring gruff apologies every time you flinched. The guilt worsened when he began deftly stitching up your wound—it didn’t go past his notice when your face twisted with the pain, and you bit your lip in a fruitless attempt to keep the sharp agony at bay.

“You did good out there, Y/N,” he said, desperate to distract you. “What was it like being the Spider in your universe?”

You spared him a loose grin, appreciating his attempts to keep you entertained. 

“Tiring,” you admitted, fingers digging into his shoulders when he began another stitch. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve heard the same story a million times by now. I was a scientist, trying to find a way to reverse the never-ending winter. I was bitten by a radioactive winter-spider… the only kind of spider left after our world iced over. I, uhm… I lost my uncle. My mom, shortly after. She was captain of the police force.” 

There was a long pause. It was obvious that you weren’t too keen on divulging all the details just yet. Your eyes watered with the memory, a glimmering film of tears warbling over your lower lashes, and Miguel gently patted your knee in understanding, silently reassuring you that you didn’t have to tell him everything.

You drew in a deep breath. “I realized I had powers—I had all the abilities of a spider, and I could turn invisible, and withstand the cold much more than before. I was known as the Snow Spider. A lot of people died from the frost. I couldn’t save them. I tried to help as much as I could, but it was just never enough. And then… I met you.” A smile graced your expression, one that sparked life into Miguel’s heart. “I moved from just helping my city, to helping the entire multiverse.”

Before you knew it, Miguel was tying off the last stitch, biting the thread short with his sharp fangs once he was done. You murmured a sincere thanks, placing your palm flat against his chest, feeling the quick thrum of his heart slamming against his ribcage.

If you noticed how his pulse seemed to kick up a notch with your ministrations, you didn’t say anything. For that, Miguel was grateful.

“There you go. That’s a brief summary of my life story. It’s only fair if you tell me yours.”

The man met your gaze, irises dark and warring with conflict.

“What’s there to say? I got powers, just like you. I lost people, just like you. I built the Spider Society… and then I met you.” The last bit was said as he nudged you gently, and he offered you a tentative smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Hesitant, you lifted your hand, softly grazing your knuckles against his cheek. Icy was your touch, but it felt nice—almost addicting. He found himself leaning against your hand, shutting his eyes as he exhaled.

“You’re a mystery, Miguel,” you murmured, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to his cheek as thanks for patching you up, before sliding off the table to stride away. Miguel watched you go with a lump in his throat. “Luckily for you, I like mysteries.”

“How long has that been a thing? I haven’t noticed because I’ve been too busy thinking about my… miserable past,” sighed Ben, coming to stand beside Jessica, the two of them watching Miguel follow after you like a lost puppy, face uncharacteristically mellowed with an undeniable lovesick expression. 

“It’s not a thing,” she replied with an amused scoff. “Not yet, at least.”

You halted what you were doing and turned around to grin at Miguel. “Look, I stitched my suit back together. It’s good as new!” 

His dark, molten eyes gleamed with affection. “It looks great.” He caught sight of your web-shooters, fixed against the base of your hand. “I still can’t believe you need those.”

“Well, I can’t believe you have spinnerets embedded into your skin. I can’t tell if I’m more grossed out or curious to know more,” you shot back, taking his hand to inspect his wrist with narrowed eyes. “What other kind of powers do you have?”

With a roguish grin, he bared his teeth, sharp fangs drawing out. 

“I can never get over those. They’re kinda intimidating, but in a cool way.” Before you could stop yourself, you tacked on, “And really fucking hot.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He stared blankly at you. “They’re poisonous.”

Still, you smiled at him, all sweet and flustered. “Hm. It’s a shame, really. I definitely would’ve asked you to bite me if not for the venom.” Neither of you were quite sure if you were joking or not.

Miguel was certain he was going to combust into flames. “I can still bite you without injecting the poison into your system. It’s a voluntary response.”

To his surprise, you burst into a fit of laughter. Gods, he was absolutely smitten with that sound. The way your nose wrinkled, the side of your eyes creased, the shaking of your shoulders as you chuckled… it was all too much for Miguel.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” you warned.

“Oh, I can do much more than just tempt,” said the man in front of you, making your laughter taper away into silence. 

You studied him for a moment longer. Before you could say anything, both of your watches beeped simultaneously. With one more amused huff, you patted his shoulder, brushing past him and pulling your mask over your face. “Come on, mister. Anomalies to catch, universes to save… we can continue this conversation later.”

The months pass by in a blur. 

You were wrangling back another Doc Ock anomaly, having webbed up all his metal tentacles, easily tossing him into a temporary laser cage with a sweet smile. The villain was spitting obscenities, going on and on about the power of the sun in his grasp, how you’d ruined everything for him. 

“You’ll pay for this!” he yelled, slamming his fist against the glowing barrier. 

“Sorry, Doc,” you said with a mild grin. “I’ve met around a dozen of you, and so far, you were the most compliant. That makes you my favorite!”

You saluted him with a wink, before turning on your heel and striding away. It wasn’t long before Miguel found you, falling into step with your stride.

“Look at you, taking on anomalies all on your own,” he murmured lowly, nudging your side with his elbow. “Good job.”

With a scoff, you pulled off your mask, regarding him with an expectant gaze as you leaned forward, so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. He could feel the cold frost of your breath blow over the heated planes of his cheeks. “Well, then, Mr. O’Hara, wouldn’t I deserve a reward?”

The vampire-spider only flushed at your words, mouth falling open and shut as he struggled with a rebuttal. 

Your laugh, soft and tinkering, made his heart nearly seize within his chest. Still chuckling, you shoved away from him, saying that you had to get back to your universe to make sure everything was still in order there.

As you made your way out of the room, using your watch to portal through to your wintry hellscape, Jessica appeared out of nowhere beside him, one hand on her heavily pregnant belly, and the other cocked upon her hip. 

“God, you really can’t be more obvious, can you?” she asked.

Miguel spared her a glance, snapping out of his reverie and standing up straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Everyone knows you’re in love with the Snow Spider. And don’t you deny it—I know a liar when I see one.” She watched Miguel frown, but didn’t bother protesting her claim. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Tell them, you big grump. Y/N deserves to know.”

Before he could reply, Jessica was already hastening away, yelling over her shoulder that she had to go to the bathroom because the damn baby was kicking against her bladder again.

Jealousy was not an emotion Miguel was well acquainted with. Ever since he witnessed an entire universe crumbling away in front of him, he was careful not to get too attached to anything. To anyone.

But he did. He grew attached to Jessica, who was his most trusted friend, always giving him the best advice and always available to lend him a helping hand. Though he’d never admit it, Miguel was also rather fond of Ben and his obnoxious penchant for his dramatic tragedies. And, most obvious of all, he was undoubtedly very close to his best soldier, Lego Peter.

Then there was you.

It infuriated him—the way you’d smile around him, give him the most fleeting of touches, always pleasantly cold, leaving prickly goosebumps in your wake. You would offer him an affectionate nudge and a myriad of teasing compliments that made his stomach want to fold in upon itself. But Miguel tried not to think too much of it: you were a generally kind person, with many of the Spiders in the society taking a certain liking to you. It didn’t go past his notice that you’d caught more than a few romantic eyes. Every time a Peter or a Ben would openly flirt with you, he could feel himself bristling, bile rising within his throat.

Again, Miguel wasn’t used to feeling jealous. He wanted to be the one cooking dinner for you, holding you in his arms, kissing you, touching you—

To his relief, you never paid them much mind, often politely declining with a poorly-forged excuse of having to return to your universe.

It was nearly a year since you’d first met Miguel when you were at Headquarters, holding a babbling Mayday as she crawled all over you. You laughed when she climbed up onto your shoulders, slipping down into your hands with a gleeful coo, blue eyes bright and wide. With gentle hands, you brushed her messy ginger hair away from her face. 

“She doesn’t look like you, huh?” you asked Peter B. Parker. “She must be a carbon copy of her momma.”

“A good thing,” admitted the man beside you, muffling a yawn as he dug the heels of his palms into his sleep-deprived eyes, adorned with dark bags. “Wouldn’t want her taking after her old man, now would I?”

“Why not?” you asked, amusedly watching when May shot out a web from her tiny shooters, swinging away to clumsily scale a nearby wall. “I think you’re very handsome. Trust me, the sleep-deprived look is very trendy right now. In my universe, at least. Nobody can really sleep well with the never-ending cold we got going there.”

Peter gave you a loose smile. “You know what, you’re right. Dad bods are making a comeback. By the way, did I tell you about my coin collection—”

Before Peter could finish what he was saying, your watch beeped noisily, and Ben’s slumped hologram appeared over your wrist. “Y/N, I’m glad you’re here,” he said. You had to hold your tongue not to retort that he was the one that’d called you. “I need you to come comfort me and hold onto my strong, muscular arms as I tell you about my gruesome past.” The pale image of Ben flickered as he flexed his biceps. 

You rolled your eyes to the side. Ben had become a close friend during your time with the Spider Society, nearly inseparable after you’d saved his life from an Electro anomaly once. That man was quite the emotional one, he was.

“I’ll be there, just give me a minute.” 

“Bring me one of those Spider-burgers, will you? Extra ketchup and no p—”

You tapped at your watch and his hologram disappeared before he could finish his request. With a mild wince, you glanced at Peter. “You wanna come with me and listen to Ben dramatically mope for an hour? I’ll treat you and May to Spider-burgers, because it looks like I’ll have to stop by there, anyway.”

“I would, I really would, but I gotta put May down for a nap,” he said with a sympathetic slant of his lips. As if on cue, the baby fell back into Peter’s arms, yawning widely. Bouncing her up and down, Peter absent-mindedly remarked, “Make sure Miguel doesn’t catch you being all sweet with Ben. That guy is crazy about you. Hah, he’d lose his marbles!” 

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

“No, uh, what did you say, about Miguel being…”

“Nothing! Huh? I didn’t say anything.”

“Yes, you did. I heard you. Peter, what are you saying? Miguel is—?” 

Sheepish, Peter scratched the back of his head. “Oh, wow, would you look at the time!” Peter pulled down the sleeve of his pink bathrobe to mimic looking at the watch. He hastily stepped away. “I have to go. I didn’t say anything. Bye! I’d love a Spider-burger with you another time! Bye! See you later!”

You watched in bewilderment when the older man swung away with his baby in his hands, muttering out a long string of panicked curses under his breath.

Miguel was crazy about you?

After a few seconds of deliberating your next move, you shot out a web and swung away, heading to Miguel’s private office, where you knew he would be buried in figuring out a solution to the influx of new anomalies. Surely Ben would be alright with you showing up a bit late (he wouldn’t, but you had more pressing matters at hand).

“Hey, Miguel,” you greeted with a soft voice, slipping inside after knocking twice. “Hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

The man offered you a warm grin. “Never a bad time with you. What’s going on?”

“Well, I just… I had a rather interesting talk with Peter B,” you started, striding across the office until you stood just in front of his desk, with Miguel on the other side.

He tilted his head. “Was it about that collection of coins he lost to an anomaly? He needs to get over that.”

“I—what? The poor guy lost his coin collection? He’d been working on that for years!” Shaking your head, you mindfully got back on track. “Well, no, that’s not what we talked about.”

Dark eyes narrowing, Miguel crossed his arms, deadpanning, “What did he tell you?”

There was a rather mischievous hue to your expression that Miguel misliked. Slow and deliberate, you stepped around the desk, fingers dragging along the smooth top. You stood so close to him that your chest was only a hair’s breadth from his—if he were to take too deep a breath, the two of you would be touching by now.

“Hm… Peter accidentally let slip that you have feelings for me. Is that true, Miguel?” The way his name rolled off your tongue nearly made him choke as his brain short-circuited. 

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, echoing the exact thing he had said to Jess a month ago. 

You studied him, gaze dragging from his stiff face, to his tense stature, and back up again. It may have been a trick of light, but Miguel could swear he saw your eyes linger on his lips. 

With a hum, you leaned even closer. He could hear your heart thrumming now, a steady, strong beat—which completely juxtaposed against his own rapid pulse, drumming loud within his ears. Up this close, he could smell your perfume, see the flecks of color within your pretty eyes, notice the way your lips quirked up with a sweet smile. Even whilst teasing him, you made sure that you weren’t overstepping any bounds, giving him ample time to step away if need be.

“Oh,” you said, feigning confusion. Your hand rested upon his clavicle, nails lightly dragging down his neck. A sharp thrill struck down Miguel’s spine at the sensation. You were barely touching him, for God’s sake! “So you wouldn’t mind if I… go ask Ben out for dinner?”

A beat of silence. Miguel’s brows knitted together.

The next words were susurrated as you dipped forward to nudge your nose along his neck, pressing a cold whisper of a kiss along the underside of his jaw. “Or if I… I don’t know… if I invite him to stay at my place for the night?” 

Of course, there was no real weight to your words. Ben was simply a good friend, but damn if you didn’t enjoy the way Miguel’s eyes twitched.

Finally snapping, a low growl rumbled within his chest, his hands shooting out to grab your waist. You were cold to the touch, the ice to his fire, as his fingers curled over your back, shoving you up against the wall behind his desk. As if on instinct, your hands came to clutch at his broad shoulders.

You smiled, wide and triumphant. You’d finally broke him. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he gruffed, staring deep into your eyes to make sure you were alright with this. The last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable. From your gleeful expression, Miguel could see that you were just the opposite. 

“Oka—mmph!” 

His lips slanted over yours, warm and rough, yet cold and soft at the same time. It was a kiss of starkly juxtaposing contrasts, heavy with months and months of unspoken yearning. His large nose brushed against your cheek, angling his face to kiss you harder—deeper. 

When one of your hands slithered up the back of his neck to tug at the roots of his dark hair, he sighed against your mouth, breaking the kiss to lean his forehead over yours.

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, nudging your nose against his sharp cheekbone. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.” He surged forward to kiss you again, relishing in the way you just about melted into his touch. “If it wasn’t obvious already, I really like you, too.”

At your admission, Miguel beamed, loose and hesitant. “You still planning on asking Ben out to dinner and having him stay over at your place, then?”

You tapped a finger onto your chin, pretending to have a good, long think about it. “Give me a good reason to stay, and I won’t.” At Miguel’s slightly crestfallen expression, you patted his cheek, quick to say, “God, Miguel, I was just kidding. Ben and I are good friends. You and I, however… I wouldn’t exactly call you a friend—”

His lips met yours again, stealing the rest of your words from you. 

When you smiled into the kiss, he smiled back. It was a bit too early for love, sure, but Miguel already knew he was in too deep to back out.

He was falling in love with you. 

The thought terrified him to no end, but he merely kissed you harder, and clutched you all the closer to him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fanfic #across the spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse fanfiction #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara #spider-man 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #atsv fanfiction

[shellshocklove]

two: thick skull | peter parker

pairing/AU: band AU & post!nwh - college!peter parker x female!reader

summary: your band, crimson goblins, just booked its first ever gig. there was just one problem. you didn’t have a guitarist.

warnings: swearing, mentions and drinking of alcohol, blood, smut 18+ (minors dni!), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

word count: 6.0k

a/n: every time i post a series i feel like the story doesn’t begin until the third installment. i don’t know why i feel like that- maybe i just hate exposition lmao. well, this one’s not any different to me. this part is one of my faves <3 feedback as a comment, in the tags, as an ask or reply is very much appreciated, and they make me super happy! <3

series masterlist / main masterlist

“Where the fuck is Peter?”

You were pacing. The hem of your black silk mini dress ruffled with each step you took, while the sound of your black thigh high boots echoed against the concrete floor of your green room at The Living Room. You were starting to feel rage bubble in your veins, heating a fire in your stomach.

Harry sighed hard, his head falling into his hands. “You know I’ve texted him a hundred times already– and he hasn’t responded since the last time you asked– TEN SECONDS AGO!” Harry answered you from where he sat next to Elijah on the leather couch.

How could he be late? Today of all days? At this point you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to laugh. Had the curse over Crimson Goblins struck again? Were you once again without a guitarist?

You looked over at the clock hanging over the door. Five minutes. In five minutes, you were supposed to go on stage, and Peter had somehow fallen off the face of the earth. Tears started to burn behind your eyelids as your frustration grew stronger. How could Peter do this to you? To Harry? To Elijah? He knew how much this meant to you. How excited you’d all been for tonight.

You’d practiced every day this week, making sure everything would be perfect for tonight. Harry had been heavily promoting your gig on his Instagram, and you and Elijah had invited all your friends from your classes. You three all made sure people would show up, and they had. The Living Room was packed. So packed you could hear the steady buzzing of conversation all the way from the stage through the door of your green room. But one person was missing.

You felt stupid. You felt played. Played by Peter. You’d thought he’d actually cared. Cared about you. Cared about the band. Maybe your first impression about Peter had been right all along. You slumped against the arm of the leather couch as you felt a tear roll down your cheek. You quickly wiped it at the sound of Elijah calling your name.

“Please come sit down” he said, his arm stretched out, welcoming you to slump against his body in comfort. Beside him Harry got up, lifting his phone to his ear, trying to get a hold of Peter for the umpteenth time.

“How are you so calm?” you whispered to Elijah as you laid your head down on his shoulder, his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm.

“Nothing good comes from being stressed. Either he shows up or he doesn’t. If he doesn’t show– we’ll play the gig without him” he said, trying to comfort you.

But it didn’t work. You were already nervous about the show. And adding Peter not showing up to your growing concerns about the night, had made your heartbeat double its pace.

“He’s not answering” Harry sighed, plopping down on the couch next to you.

Slinging his arm over the back of the couch, he turned towards you and Elijah. “I guess we’ll just go out there with only bass and drums and just try our best? We all know the songs in and out– we’ll be fine!” Harry tried to cheer you up. “And it’ll be a funny story… right? When we’re super rich and famous, playing stadiums for thousands of screaming fans! We’ll think back to this moment” he emphasized “this” with a press of his finger against your thigh.

Looking over at Harry, you tried to give him a smile. He scooted closer to you and Elijah, and soon you were engulfed in a group hug. Both men squeezing you tight between them.

“Dude! Your armpit is in my face–” you heard Elijah’s muffled voice before Harry cut him off with, “I love you guys”.

You couldn’t help but giggle, “I love you too but I’m being squished here”.

Harry pulled away at your words, but on his face, he wore a dramatic pout.

“All I want is to show my two younglings some love and this is what I get” he said, faking a scoff. “You don’t deserve me” his head fell. You knew he was just messing around when you saw how he tried to hide the cheeky grin plastered on his face by turning his face away.

Beside you Elijah snorted, “You're right, we've done nothing to deserve this! Somebody please put us out of our misery”.

Before you could all burst out laughing, you heard a knock on the door. A second later it opened to the face of the manager of The Living Room.

“Crimson Goblins? You’re on now” she said.

Those three words made you feel sick. You all stood to your feet. Over you Elijah let out a sigh as Harry clapped his hands together with a loud smack! before rubbing them together.

“Okay” Harry sighed, walking towards the door with you and Elijah in tow.

“Here goes nothing…”

Walking behind Harry to the side of the stage, you wondered why it felt like you were walking to your death. Like you’d walk out on stage and all your instruments would be gone and replaced by a gallows. If this didn’t go well, this would be a public execution. You’d be known as the girl in that band that fucking sucked.

“Hi!! You guys! Guys! I’m here!!” turning around you almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“I’m SO sorry” Peter heaved out. He looked disheveled, dressed casually in jeans, a plain t-shirt, and a gray zip up hoodie.

First of all, Peter was not at all dressed like he belonged in a punk band, and second of all, not at all dressed for the Saturday night out you all agreed you were having after the gig. But his clothes, and the state of them, wasn’t what concerned you. What concerned you, was the black eye he was sporting, along with a bleeding busted lip, and raw bloody knuckles.

Nobody said anything as the three of you just stood looking at him. To your left you heard the increased simmering of the restless crowd.

“I–“ Harry started, holding up his hands, “We don’t have time to deal with this right now… let’s just do the gig”.

Harry’s blatant ignoring of the whole situation, paired with him not even acknowledging how hurt Peter looked, made a fury bubble in your veins. But your fury wasn’t close to reaching its boiling point because of Harry, it was because of Peter. Yes, he showed up. But would it have killed him to pick up the phone and let you know if he was coming or not?

You didn’t know what to do, so you just shook your head. You didn’t even want to look at him. So, you turned your back, moving to stand behind Harry where he faced the stage. When the lights went dark, and the crowd started cheering, you felt a presence behind you lean closer.

“I’m sorry– I really am!” Peter whispered in your ear, “And I also think you look really pretty tonight”.

You turned around to look at him, meeting his sorry eyes. Letting out a scoff you shook your head. Is this man fucking for real, right now? A second later you followed Harry out on the stage with a hand lifted in a wave.

It went by way too fast. One minute you were furiously walking on stage, and the next minute you were soaring on a cloud of electric energy. You’d opened with one of your original songs ‘Bad Mood’. Not that you had many original songs, Crimson Goblin were playing mostly covers, but the guitar heavy song got the crowd going right away, feeding you with amazing energy. It was packed to the brim, sweaty and clammy, but you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. You almost wished you were down in the pit yourself. Pressed against the sweaty bodies as you lost yourself in the crowd.

You lost yourself either way – in the music. The anger looming over the band made Elijah bang a little harder on the drums and Harry scream a little louder into the mic. For you, every time you looked over at Peter, you stomped your feet a little more aggressively and headbanged a little harder. There was an intensity between the four of you. One you’ve never felt before. You felt high. High on the moment. High on the music. High on rage.

By the third song the floor opened up to a mosh pit. Under you, bodies jumped in time with the music, fists pumping, moving like a stormy wave of people. Harry’s stage presence blew you away. He had the crowd wrapped around his finger, all their intense attention on him. You already knew he was a performer, he never turned down an opportunity to be dramatic. But the way he moved about the stage. He was so sure of himself, exuding a confidence you’d never seen in him before. He was energetic, but still there was an intensity to his movements. Nothing seemed rehearsed about the way he sang; he sang every word with a purpose. In a weird way he reminded you of a mix of Joe Talbot from IDLES with a little bit of Joe Strummer from The Clash mixed in.

An hour later it was over. Walking off the stage after your encore, you were still soaring.

Giggling and jumping around, Harry pulled you in for a sweaty hug. “Did you guys see that!?” he screamed, letting go of you, as quickly as he’d hugged you. “We were fucking LEGENDARY!!” he roared, shaking your shoulders.

You couldn’t help but laugh as Harry continued jumping around the backstage area excitedly. The adrenaline rush you were feeling was insane. You wanted to do this every night for the rest of your life.

“Let’s go get fucking DRUNK!!!” Harry bounced.

A few minutes later, after a quick stop back at the green room to freshen up, you were all throwing back shots at the bar. The three of you feeling too euphoric to be angry at Peter.

After the gigs on Saturdays, The Living Room transformed into a club for the rest of the night. The lights were low, glimpses of pinks, reds, and purples, lit up the room around you. Up on the stage, your band set up had been transformed into a DJ-stand, where a woman now bounced to the music flowing through the speakers. Her white bleached hair with a streak of blue running through it, reflected the light like a mirror.

After the round of shots, Harry bought the first round of drinks. He always got a little extra generous when he was drunk. He left his tab open, like he always did, for you guys to take advantage of. It made you feel a little bad. You were obviously grateful, and it wasn’t like the money meant anything to Harry. To him it was like a drop in an endless sea. But sometimes, letting Harry pay felt like charity. He knew you struggled with money from time to time. Sometimes the extra tips from your waitress job didn’t cover your expenses, but that’s just the life of a full-time college student.

Harry had asked you to move into the penthouse with him and Peter on multiple occasions, wanting to let you live there for free like Peter did, but you just couldn’t say yes. Instead, you told him you could take care of yourself. Maybe it was harsh, but you didn’t want to rely on anybody except for yourself.

Standing together with your bandmates by the bar, you zooned out from their conversation. Instead, you looked around the packed room, your hand tightly wrapped around the glass of your G&T. You felt Peter’s eyes burn the side of your face. You hadn’t spoken to him yet, not after he’d whispered his compliment in your ear before you’d gone on stage. You hated how it made you feel – a warmth pricking under your skin. You resisted the urge to turn your head and look at him.

Over in the corner, in the back of the club, you saw some of your friends you’d invited from your classes. Seeing an opportunity to escape your conflicting feelings about Peter for a little while, you tugged lightly on Elijah’s leather jacket, pulling him from Harry and Peter’s conversation. You pointed to your friends in the corner, letting him know where you were going, and with a nod and a smile, he let you go.

You didn’t know how much time had passed. It felt like none at all, the way nights out sometimes felt like living from moment to moment. After catching up with your friends, you’d moved over to the dance floor, and your earlier wish of losing yourself in the crowd, was granted.

You were a sweaty mess. The bass in your chest vibrated with every beat as you moved your body to the music. The blinking lights slowed everything down. The crowd moved in slow motion, showing you only small glimpses of the bodies moving around you.

When your feet started to hurt, and you needed a moment to catch your breath, you sought refuge at the bar. After downing a glass of cold water, you felt yourself start to calm down a little, and a fatigue settled in. Your body had been a tensed mess all week leading up to the gig. You hadn’t had a moment to process the stress of Peter being late earlier (and his comment), either. Your adrenalin high was starting to wear out. You were coming down.

Pondering if you should start to head home, you looked around the club for your bandmates, wanting to let them know you were leaving so they wouldn’t worry. You let your eyes wander through the room, searching for them, but couldn’t seem to find any of them – not even Peter.

You hadn’t noticed you’d let your gaze fall on some random guy, until he was walking over to you. Your thoughts too occupied with questions on how you were going to find your friends again.

“Not having fun?” he asked when he’d closed the space between you.

He looked so square. What was he even doing here? Dressed in a navy polo shirt and tan chinos you wondered if he’d gotten lost on his way to the country club.

“Oh, just taking a break” you gave him a tight-lipped smile.

“I saw you and your band earlier– you guys were pretty good!”. He crossed his arms over his chest.

What was he trying to do? Make his muscles look bigger?

“Thanks” you forced a smile. You just wanted to go home.

“I didn’t think I’d be attracted to a female playing bass, but you looked really hot up there”.

Did he just say female? You caught yourself before you let your eyes roll to the back of your head. Forcing another smile, you racked your brain for a reply.

“I’m Chad by the way” he threw out the information like it was something you already should’ve known.

“Ok” you nodded, and he mirrored you. You didn’t offer up your own name.

“The club’s getting pretty boring, don’t you think? Wanna get out of here? I could show you a goo–“

“There you are”,

Wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders, Peter cut Chad off. “I’ve been looking for you for like an hour” he chuckled, ignoring Chad’s presence altogether.

“I’ve been looking for you guys for like an hour” you answered, a hint of relief in your voice. You didn’t have it in you to be angry at him anymore, you were just glad to see him.

“Who’s your friend?” Peter asked, seeming to finally notice Chad.

“Oh um…” you started, looking over at Chad where he stood awkwardly watching you and Peter. “Sorry, what was your name again?” you asked him, faking your sudden amnesia.

There seemed to flash a flare of annoyance across Chad’s face for a second, which he quickly covered with a toothy smile.

“Chad” he said, reaching out his hand for Peter to shake.

Peter grabbed his hand, giving him a rather hard squeeze from what you could read of Chad’s facial expressions, “Peter”. You bit down on your lip, trying to stop a smile from erupting across your face.

“So, um–” Chad cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest again, trying to hide the clenching of his fingers, “what happened to you man?”.

“Oh this?” Peter gestured to his black eye and busted lip. “It’s nothing! You should see the other guy” he answered, staring down Chad. Could you glimpse a hint of a mischievous smile on Peter’s lips?

You didn’t know what had happened to Peter, but you found it hard to imagine he’d gotten his injuries from a fight. He was too sweet, and way too dorky for something like that, and Peter had told you himself he was clumsy. But Chad didn’t know that.

“Right…” Chad trailed off. An awkward beat passed before he spoke up again. “I think I just saw someone I know…” he said, pretending to look past you and Peter.

“Nice meeting you” Chad said with a nod, aimed at you, before he walked away.

When Chad was out of view, Peter let out a chuckle. “Please tell me you weren’t about to go home with that guy” his arm around you pulled you even closer to him as he laughed.

“I wasn’t” you clarified, “I was just about to go home, alone, and he just walked up to me”.

“Good!” he chuckled, “Because he definitely didn’t look like someone who could ‘show you a good time’” Peter parroted what Chad had said to you right before he’d walked in on your conversation.

“But you are?” you’d asked the question before you’d even had time to think. Yes, you’d had a glass of water, but you’d also had several drinks throughout the night. And maybe drunk you, didn’t like to think before she spoke.

“Oh…” you didn’t know if it was just the pink hue of the club lights, or if you’d caught a glimpse of Peter’s cheeks turning a deep shade of pink.

“Well– I can’t say I’ve gotten any complaints,” he feigned.

“No?” you tried to keep your face neutral, as he gave you a sheepish shrug.

Changing the topic you asked, “What’s with the arm?” you gestured to his arm around your body.

“Oh… um nothing” he simply answered.

“Nothing?” you questioned.

“Yeah” he said nonchalantly, and you felt a smile pull at the corners of your mouth.

“What are you doing Peter?” you teased.

“Nothing! I swear!” he chuckled.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “I don’t believe you”.

He narrowed his eyes at you, and soon you were staring him down.

“Ok fine” Peter let up, “I just wanted that guy to back off– you looked uncomfortable, and he seemed like a guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer”.

“I can take care of myself, you know?” you stated.

“Of course you can– I mean I know you can– I wasn’t insinuating that you didn’t!” he fumbled over his words. Why did you find it so endearing?

“It’s just that…” he trailed off as he looked down at his feet.

“It’s just that, what?” you asked, feeling a smile tug on the corners of your mouth.

“You’re so pretty– the prettiest person in this room” he breathed out, repeating what he’d told you mere hours ago.

“I don’t know… I guess I got scared you’d go home with him” he met your gaze. The warmth and the intensity he looked at you with, made your tummy flutter. Then he scrunched up his face.

“Oh god! I’m sorry! I don’t know why I said that– I’m drunk and I’m being weird– just forget I said anything” he apologized quickly, fumbling over his words again, as you felt his arm around you fall.

Oh… you pressed your lips together, feeling the butterflies die in your tummy. “It’s okay Peter! I’m drunk too– don’t worry about it” you spoke.

“Thanks” he gave you his trademark emoticon smile. Then a beat passed without neither you nor Peter saying anything.

“Well,” you started, “I think I’m gonna go home”.

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, “me too I think”.

A few moments later you were stood out on the street, outside The Living Room, together with Peter. There was still snow on the ground, but the wind didn’t bite as hard as it had a few weeks ago.

“Ugh!” Peter let out, looking down at his phone.

“What?” you asked, taking a step closer to Peter, shamelessly peeking over his shoulder at his phone.

“Harry just texted me ‘bone alert’, I’m gonna be traumatized when I get home” he said, looking over his shoulder at you.

“Bone alert?” you questioned.

“Yeah, it’s just our code for when one of us bring someone home to–“

“Bone?” you finished his sentence.

“Yeah” he chuckled, “Harry came up with it– it’s stupid”.

“You can crash at my place if you want?” the words just fell out of your mouth, “I mean– it’ll save you some trauma?”.

Peter chuckled, “Really?”.

“Yeah, of course!”

As you stepped through the door of your apartment, you regretted not tidying up before you left. You’d been in a hurry getting ready. Clothes were thrown across your bed, and in the sink, your dishes had, embarrassingly, piled up over the last few days.

“I’m sorry it’s a little messy” you apologized as you heard Peter close the door behind you.

“Oh! It’s okay” he reassured you.

You’d lived here for about a year and a half. Your studio apartment was small, made up by a narrow hallway, a tiny bathroom, and your living room/bedroom/kitchen. After hanging your coats on your rack by the door, Peter followed you down the short hallway. The hallway opened up to your kitchen lining the right wall. You didn’t have the space for a dinner table, so you ate all your meals at your tiny kitchen island. Your apartment faced north, making the light coming through the row of windows perfect for painting. You’d set up a desk along the wall and placed your easel in the corner. It meant that you didn’t have any room for a sofa or a TV, but it wasn’t much of a sacrifice for you, you loved making art more than you loved watching TV. Tucked away in the inner corner of your apartment, you’d placed your unmade bed.

“Where should I put these?” Peter asked.

He’d been kind enough to carry your bass home. You’d protested at first, feeling bad that he’d had to carry both his own guitar and then your bass all the way back to your apartment, but he’d said it was fine. You were letting him crash at your place – it was the least he could. Then he’d taken your bass out of your hands and carried it like it weighed nothing more than a feather.

“Ehm…,” you trailed off, “you can just put them by my desk for now”.

Still slightly embarrassed by the mess, you started picking up your scattered clothes from earlier.

“The bathroom’s just through there–“ you pointed to the bathroom door with one hand, as you clutched a pile of clothes to your body with the other. “I’m sorry I don’t have a sofa or anything. I can sleep on the floor if it makes you uncomfortable to share a bed”.

“What? No! I should be the one to sleep on the floor” Peter protested.

A smile started to spread on your face, “Peter, don’t be silly! You’re not sleeping on the floor– you’re the guest here”.

You let him use the bathroom first. When you stepped out of the bathroom, after getting ready for bed, Peter was already tucked in your bed. He looked so cozy. Your duvet pulled all the way up over his shoulders, while he watched you step closer with half-lidded eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep yet!” you said, “I got something for you” you sat down on the edge of the bed. In your hands you held a clean and dampened washcloth.

“What is it?” he curiously asked, sitting up a little making the duvet fall and exposing his toned and bruised chest. You instinctively looked away, a heat traveling to your cheeks. You felt the bed dip as he moved closer to you. You looked down at your lap.

“It’s for your cut, the one on your lip it’s– it’s bleeding” you said as you finally lifted your head to gaze at him.

“Oh shit?” he brought his finger to his mouth, when he pulled it away it was coated in red.

You shifted closer to him, taking his hand in yours. You brushed the washcloth over his finger, cleaning up the blood.

“Thank you”, he whispered, his stare burning your face. His eye was still black, and on his cheekbone a bruise had started to flower.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened to you?” you asked, your voice not louder than a whisper. You started to lightly dap at the cut on his lip with the washcloth, making a hiss leave his lips.

“I…” he started, searching for the right words. A beat passed before he spoke.

“No,” he concluded, “I’m not”.

You let your hand fall, resting it in his lap over the duvet.

“Does Harry know?” you asked.

“No” his face twisted in a crooked smile, “But he knows why”.

His answer both explained a lot and nothing at the same time. It explained why Harry never seemed to comment on Peter’s bruises. But it didn’t explain why Harry wasn’t worried.

“Do you think you’ll ever tell me what’s going on?” you met his eyes. The warmth of them sparking up a fire in your tummy.

He looked past you, as he thought about your question.

“I honestly don’t know…” he breathed out, meeting your eyes again, “maybe someday, but not now”.

“Do I need to worry about you?” you whispered, trying not to sound disappointed. His face softened at your words, but there was also a flash of sadness in his eyes. A hand came up to cup your cheek, while the other rubbed at the base of your neck.

He rubbed his finger over your cheekbone, “No, angel”.

You don’t know which one of you moved first. It wasn’t like it was a choice, or a conscious decision. Something in the core of your being pulled you into him. He tasted red, rusty red. The kiss was languid. Pulling you in all directions, but most importantly into him.

Your back hit the mattress. He weighed you down, but you welcomed it. You kissed him. Kissed him again. He kissed you. He kissed your jaw. He kissed your neck. You felt hot all over. Your lungs burned. You forgot to breathe. It was too much. Being so wrapped up in him. His warmth, his touch, his scent. And at the same time, it was not enough.

Your fingers found his hair, tugging lightly on his curls, earning yourself a groan from him, while he peppered kisses down your neck. His hands ran up your body, snaking under your sleep shirt, caressing your skin. You needed more.

“Touch me– please Peter”, you whispered, “Please”.

He lifted his face from the home he’d made in the crook of your neck. His pupils blown wide with lust. He sat up a little, and he felt too far away. His hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging the fabric up your body, exposing first your tummy and then your breasts. You helped him pull it over your head, forgetting about the cotton as soon as it hit the floor.

“You really are so beautiful”, the lust in Peter’s gaze set you ablaze. You needed him close again. You needed him skin to skin. You wanted to entangle yourself in him. To not know where he ended, and you began. You needed him.

Your hands found the back of his head, pulling him in for another needy kiss. He hissed as you immediately deepened it. You tasted his blood. It covered your lips, your tongue, your teeth. Your whole body screamed Peter, Peter, Peter. A pact between you formed, signed in blood.

A trail of red kisses traced after him down your body. Soft presses against the top of your breasts, slowing down over your tummy as he got closer and closer to where you ached for him. You held your breath. The anticipation thick in the air. Then he locked eyes with you, and it was like the world stood still. A shuddered breath escaped you as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss over your clothed clit.

“Fuck…” you whispered.

He raised his head at your curse, his gaze sticking to your face. The air between you was heavy. He brushed a featherlight finger over your clit, making you mewl under him. Gently he pressed down a little harder, his finger running through your folds where your arousal had started to seep through the fabric. You were so wet, it almost hurt.

Then his eyes met yours again, an unspoken connection formed between the two of you. With a nod of your head and a “Please, Peter”, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs.

With your panties discarded on the floor, he shifted to lay down on his tummy between your legs. His face hovered over your cunt, but his eyes were fixated on your face. A curl rested lazily on his forehead, the swirling bruise of blues, yellows and purples stained his right eye, while his lips were crimson red.

You ached for his touch. His hands traced the back of your legs to your knees, soft and gentle. Slowly he pulled your legs apart, spreading you open for him, and exposing your wet core.

He leaned against your inner thigh, his eyes still on you. His cheek tender against your warm skin. Your heartbeat pulsed in your ears. The tension between the two of you was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

The knife flickered in your mind’s eye, the silver catching in the glimmer in the warmth of his. It twisted and moved behind your ribcage. A feeling. A thought. A warmth. It exploded from the center of your being, traveling in all directions. Through your veins, down your arms, down your legs, filling you up.

Under him you burned. How could he make you feel like this? Why did he do this to you? Pulling you under him, gasping for his touch. How pathetic you were to need him so much.

He moved his head, brushing his cheek against your skin, pressing soft kisses to your inner thigh, moving slowly. Finally, he leaned forward. His lips pressed against your clit, before he wrapped them around your aching bud. He circled his tongue around it, before he gently sucked. Your fingers intertwined in his soft curls, guiding his face down, while breathy moans left your lips. He continued lapping at your clit, earning himself a symphony of whines, moans, and whimpers.

When your chest started to heave, he sucked even harder on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. You felt a finger run through your folds, coating it in your arousal before it poked at your entrance. You were so close, clenching down on nothing in anticipation. Then his finger entered you.

“Fuck” the swear came out as a rushed whisper. He hummed around your clit, the vibrations stimulating you even more. Then, at an agonizingly slow pace, he started to pump his finger inside you. Fuck, you were so close. He’d already had you on the edge, and now you were almost falling over.

He curled his finger, the pad pushing against your g-spot, and you were seeing stars. With a flick of his tongue over your sensitive clit, everything came crashing down. You arched your back as a wave of pleasure washed over you. Clenching down hard around his finger, a silent cry left your lips. Under him you opened like a flower.

He didn’t let up, continuing to pump his finger and hitting your spot inside, while he sucked greedily on your clit. It was all too much. Your legs were shaking. Brushing your hand through his curls, you pushed his face away.

“I’m sorry” you breathed out, “I sh-should’ve told you I was close”. His face softened at your apology. You were still catching your breath, your chest moving at an erratic pace. Removing his finger, he sat up, before he climbed up your body like a predator sneaking up on his prey. He moved through the soft shadows of your darkened room.

“Don’t apologize, angel” he laughed quietly, shaking his head. Before you could utter a reply, he leaned forward, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. The moment of clarity quickly melted away. His kiss making you forget what you were sorry for.

He kissed you hungerly. It was messy. It was desperate. You clung to him. Tasted yourself on his lips. Pulled his skin against yours. You needed him closer. And he needed it too. With a slow thrust of his hips, his hard, still clothed cock rubbed up against your cunt. You swallowed his gasp. You didn’t want to wait any longer. With an eager hand, you found the hem of his boxers, tugging them clumsily down.

His cock finally freed, you felt it heavy on your tummy, the length of him rubbing over your clit. Fuck, you needed him. Your hands cupped his cheeks as you pulled away from his desperate kiss. His forehead fell against yours, and your eyes locked with his. You gave him an affirmative nod, one he parroted with his own nod. Yes. He wanted this too.

The time stood still. His hand trailing down between your bodies moved in slow motion. Grabbing the base of his cock, he first ran the head over your clit and then your slit. A slick wet sound of your arousal filled the air. He lined himself up at your entrance, but then he hesitated, making a whine escape you.

“I want you Peter– please!”

“Fuck”, he cursed, pushing his cock into you slowly. He stretched your walls, going deep inside until he bottomed out. His hips flush against yours. Your mouth fell open with a short breath. You were one.

Stretching your neck, you brushed your lips over his, swallowing his moans as he started to move, thrusting into you at a slow pace. You wrapped your arms around his neck. His chest flush against yours.

He picked up the pace, thrusting into you a little harder. His hands wrapped around your waist. He held you in place. His grip arched your back a little, making his cock hit a new angle inside you, pushing the head of his cock right up against your spot with each thrust.

Something shifted in the air. His thrusts were steady, but desperate. And with the way his eyebrows knitted together, you knew he was starting to get close to his own release.

“Fuck Peter!” you gasped as he continued to hit your spot. He thrusted into you a few more times before he quickly pulled out, coming with a grunt and a “shit!”, spilling his cum over your tummy, painting it in ropes of white.

The bed dipped as he laid down beside you, his arm brushing up against yours. Both of you catching your breaths as a silence fell over you in the dark. With a clumsy motion, his hand reached for yours, locking them together.

He gave your hand a squeeze. You didn’t know what he meant.

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tags: @hollandweather​, @peterdarlingg​, @starsval​, @luciwritesstuff​, @mayal0pez​, @lnmp89​, @justapurrcat​, @sparklingsin​, @silkscream​,

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[dear-2-readers]

Peter Parker

Fluff

Angst

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