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astroboots · 10 months

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Every You Every Me Issue #3

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You are determined to meet your Spider-benefactor face to face and you go to ever increasing extreme lengths to do so. Problem is, Miguel O'hara is very uncooperative to your plans.

Word count: 5,500 words.

Content: Slowest of the burn, so slow you wonder if it's even burning. Near death experiences, the state of the economy and how expensive it is to live in a big city, the emotional whiplash of Miguel O'Hara.

Astroboot’s Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

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You saw them in the window display of a bakery in Greenwich Village. Round sugar cookies with red frosting and white eyes, decorated as a tribute to everyone's favorite neighborhood Spiderman.

Before you had time to properly think things over (would he even like the cookies? Is he on a strict superhero diet and workout plan? What if he's gluten intolerant?) you were already standing in front of the cash register having a dozen of them wrapped up in fancy crinkly paper and were $72 dollars poorer.

Charging six dollars per cookie is practically highway robbery, but that's par for the course with New York bakeries. You wouldn’t be surprised if every bakery in New York was already a part of Wilson Fisk’s criminal empire.

As you push open the door, box in hand, you wonder wryly to yourself why Spiderman’s ruder alter ego isn't there to save you from that.

You wonder, for Superheroes, what classifies as an event worth intervening in and what everyday citizens need to be saved from?

Financial ailment doesn't quite seem to qualify from what you've been able to glean so far.

Tony Stark, for all the wealth he’s amassed (a large enough treasure hoard that he would be capable of buying the whole planet of Mars according to Forbes) isn't massively involved with charities. He only donates to the one: his own. And the Stark Foundation is really just Tony Stark paying reparations for the damage he and his buddies caused in the first place.

Thor is an actual deity, and you still remember that write-up in Esquire magazine, where local waiters in New Mexico had called him a terrible tipper and a habitual smasher of glassware.

Assault and battery is up in the air. There are accounts of Superheroes intervening; that Tiktok videos of She-Hulk breaking up a bar fight that went viral a few weeks back. But then equally, there are memes of Doctor Strange peeking out the window of Sanctum Sanctorum watching a street fight unfold,, utterly uninterested in getting involved. The internet labeled it as "mood".

As for murder and mayhem, there's a longstanding public debate as to whether Superheroes cause more than they prevent. Case in point: that Moon Knight guy that paints the streets of London red.

There is no rule book written to explain how Superheroes decides who is worth saving and who is not.

Does one have to be important and have a material effect on the state of the world?

If so, you fall pitifully short. The most world-changing decision you made as of late was deciding to opt out of utensils on your last GrubHub order to help save the environment.

So it makes you wonder: Why on earth has this non-costume accurate Spiderman saved you, not once, not twice, but 13 times to date?

That’s just the first of many questions you’d like to ask him. What does he know that you don’t? Does he know why the universe seems to be out to get you lately? Or why death itself is following you everywhere you go, nipping at your heels?

You haven’t had the chance to ask him anything, because despite all of your encounters, you haven't met him face to face since that very first time.

Inconveniently, you don't exactly have a way of contacting him. Superheroes aren't listed in the phone book.

With no other way to reach out, you go at it the old fashioned way. You write him a note from a page you've ripped out of your notebook:

‘Thank you for saving me. Can we meet? I have questions.’

You place the note on the window sill. Setting the plate with $72 dollars worth of Spiderman cookies on top of the left corner of the paper to make sure it doesn't get blown away in the wind. Then you leave the window open for the first time since you've moved into this apartment before heading to bed.

There's nothing else to do but to wait.

You wake to the spit and splatter of rain against your window. It's gray outside, and the cookies you set out the night before remain untouched. You frown at the sight, but you can't say you're surprised.

There was never any real indication that he was lurking around you. Superheroes are bound to have more interesting things on their schedule than stalking a random insurance employee.

You don't know why you thought this would work in the first place.

Getting out of bed, you walk up to your window to inspect the scene. The note is where you have left it, ink a little smeared from the rain, where the plate has kept it in place on the right corner.

That seems odd, now that you think about it. You stare at the note, eye drawn to the watermarks. Why are there water stains bleeding into the paper if your window was closed? As crappy as your rundown apartment can be, water damage is the one thing you haven't had issues with.

You draw your eyes to the closed window being smattered with the rain outside. Didn't you leave the window open last night? You're pretty sure you did, hoping that the open window would be seen as a gesture of invitation. You had left it open… right?

You did.

You're sure you did.

He must’ve been here.

Rude, not-costume-accurate Spiderman was here.

Right?

Your eyes flicker back to the window.

Or maybe you did close the window?

You close your eyes trying to recall your evening, packing the length of your apartment as you replay the memory. Suddenly, you're not so sure anymore. You always close your window, and even though you had every intention of keeping it open last night, who is to say you didn't close it out of sheer habit?

It's strange. Because if he was here, he would've spotted the note. But it's in the same spot you left it yesterday right under the plate on the left side of it...

You eye the undisturbed note tucked under the right corner of the plate.

Wait, wait. Didn't you put the note under the left side of the plate?

You did.

Yes, you definitely did.

Which means, he was here... Right?

You feel like you are going insane.

Are you seeing things that are not there? Was he actually here and if so why did he go to such lengths to pretend otherwise. Why would he passive-aggressively gaslight you into thinking he was never here?

You decide on a redo.

Because if you can't trust yourself and your questionable memory, you can trust a recording.

A teddy bear nanny cam sets you back $50. Not cheap, but not as outrageous as your stale-cardboard-tasting Spiderman cookies.

You set it up on your dresser opposite your window and link it to your phone as per the instructions.

As for the bait. After having tasted those brick cookies for yourself, putting it out for a second night for a man who has saved your life repeatedly didn't seem right. You decide to bake them yourself this time.

The added bonus is that you get to mix blue food coloring into the frosting for the decoration that goes on top. In retrospect, the red Spiderman cookies from last time might’ve implied that you’re calling him a knock-off Spiderman.

Besides, even with the cost of living crisis: a bag of flour, baking powder, unsalted butter, sugar and eggs cost a lot less than $72 dollars.

This time, you don't write him a sloppily put together note. You decide to write him a proper letter.

If he did visit your apartment, (and you're not just going insane) the fact that he moved the note meant that he must've read it.

This note didn’t work.

It must not have been compelling enough, you were kind of in a hurry…

You’ll have to write something better this time. Longer. More emotionally compelling. Surely if you take the time to really explain your plight, you can make him understand why it’s so important he talks to you!

The problem is that it’s hard to sound serious when it’s written on lined paper from your ruled notebook.

That won’t do. You go to the nearest stationery store in your neighborhood, a chain outlet of Paper Source to get yourself some decent looking stationary paper with a matching colored envelope to boot.

You immediately regret this part of your plan, because it ends up setting you back another $26 dollars. Why is 6 pieces of paper so damn expensive anyhow? Surely there’s a few trees left in the world to chop down?!

$102 dollars down in your bank balance, you sit down at your dining table that night, pen in hand and begin writing. You pour your heart onto the pages, setting out in as precise words as you can manage the effect your near death incidents have had on you.

How scared you are, how confused you are, but also how grateful you are that he's saved you, again and again and again. That you believe if you and him can just meet in person and talk, if you could ask questions and figure out why this is happening, then maybe you can find a way to stop it from happening again.

Then you fold the letter and tuck it neatly into the matching envelope and slide it under the left side of the cookie plate and go to sleep.

When you wake the next morning, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

The cookies are still neatly arranged on your plate. The letter snugly tucked underneath it.

On the left side this time, you note.

It doesn’t look like he came.

The only thing is that you swear that the envelope is now several inches further to the left than where you left it last night.

Again, maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

You pull up your phone, opening the app linked to the nanny cam and press play.

There is nothing but the still frame of your studio apartment, your bed to the right and your window square in the camera-view. You speed up the video, but the only thing that takes you by surprise is that you apparently toss a lot more in your sleep than you thought.

The camera footage goes well into 3am, and you’re resigning yourself to the fact that this was all down to your imagination.

He didn't come last night. Probably didn't come the night before. Most likely you woke up from the rain, closed the window and were too sleepy to remember.

You sigh, setting down your phone on the table, prepared to let this whole endeavor go.

On your screen, a smudged shadow appears in the corner of the window. You jump to your feet from your seat, knocking your chair over in the process with a raucous thud. The dark figure grows larger on your screen, dark navy blue and lines of stark red that perches itself onto your window sill.

YES! yes-yes-yes! You knew it. You fucking goddamn knew it!

You were right.

Adrenaline buzzes victoriously in your veins, and you grip your phone harder. Your heart is pounding so fast and hard in your chest you can hear the drumming beat of it in your ears.

He was here!

(You're not cuckoo for cocoa puffs).

You watch as his large figure sits on your window sill. He's still wearing his mask, and while you can't make out the expressions underneath, the outline where his eyes would have been, painted in dark blue, now narrow into a slit on your screen.

There's a hostility emanating from that glare that you are able to sense all the way from the opposite side of the screen. He stares down at the plate of cookies suspiciously. Then he just stays there, unmoving, having a staring competition with the cookies you baked in his image.

In the privacy of your living room, you have the luxury of taking the time to get a proper look at him without interruption. It's hard to ignore the fact of just how tightly fitted to his skin that suit is. The dark blue fabric clings to every line of muscles on his body and it makes your cheek prickle with heat when you look. It feels voyeuristic somehow, but you can't help but think that the more modest alternative would be if he had worn nothing at all.

He's absurdly ripped. Muscular doesn't even begin to describe it. Broad shoulders and a narrow tapered waist segueing into obscenely thick and defined thighs that have your eyes linger for far too long. You shake your head to snap yourself out of it, Jesus you are acting like a creep. This isn’t OnlyFans, though lord knows you paid for this privilege! $102 for a cam video!

On the footage, there is finally movement. He reaches for a cookie, bringing it to his mouth. The blue fabric dematerializes on his lower face until it reveals his tanned skin and that ridiculously cut jaw of his.

His mouth parts. Fangs protrude where his canine teeth are supposed to be and the sight makes you nearly drop your phone in shock.

Is this Spiderman a vampire? Or is he like a tarantula Spiderman with fangs to match?

You watch in suspended horror as he bites into the cookie, those sharp fangs of his are in plain view as he chews.

He leans over to reach for a second cookie and all your trepidation is forgotten for a second, because if he’s reaching for a second one, it must mean he likes them. You grin at your screen, culinary pride beating out any caution or fear you may have had.

Then he lifts up the plate, picking up the letter. The anticipation is too much. You press your face closer to the screen to try to get closer, because your screen is too small to pick up any possible nuances in his expression.

He's carefully opening the envelope as he starts to read. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking. There's no visible change of facial expressions in the outline of his masked eyes. His mouth, which is bared to you, doesn't so much as twitch.

It doesn’t take long for him to read it. When he's done, he tucks the letter back under the plate. Then he bends down over the plate of cookies, and for a moment you think he’s going in for a third. Instead his hand lingers on the plate, before he starts to slide the remaining cookies around the plate to your confusion. You watch in confusion as he picks up the cookies one by one to space them out more evenly. You don't quite understand what he's trying to do, wait… is Vampire spider man re-arranging the cookies to make it less obvious he’s eaten them?!

The bastard really was trying to gaslight you into thinking he was never here.

Once he’s seemingly satisfied with his work, he straightens up, turning until his back is against the camera preparing to leave.

To your surprise his face turns around to take one last look inside. The direction of his gaze settles on your bed where you're sleeping. His eyes lingers there for a handful of moments, inscrutable over the mask.

Is he sad? Angry? You can't tell.

He finally looks away and then he leaps off the window.

Politely asking him in writing is clearly not working out for you.

You decide the only recourse you have left is to try and physically catch him.

Such a simple sentiment that had sounded so easy in your head, but you quickly run into logistical issues when you try to put it into practice.

The man is built like a tank. Can leap off of skyscrapers (and the window of your sixth floor) without breaking a sweat. Potentially also a vampire.

You're not exactly sure how you're supposed to catch someone like that.

Your google research is off to a shaky start. Somehow you end up down a rabbit hole of tutorials for non-lethal mouse traps. It's not very useful inspiration. Because you can't exactly build a 7 foot large cage trap to catch him the next time he comes around to help himself to cookies.

But the concept of having a lure trap set with bait seemed transferable and so you decide to go for a classic spring trap that you’ll modify. No cage, instead you set up a DIY contraption with a sturdy string attached to a bell meant to quickly alert you to his presence next time he comes around.

The game plan is to wake up and corner him before he has a chance to abscond.

As for bait, you google things that vampires might like in a half-thought of plan it might be applicable. Unfortunately, there are no young virgin maidens you know of as far as the eye can see in New York (yourself included) so that was a no go.

So you default back to cookies (because hey, at least it worked last time).

Amazon has your whole set up shipped and delivered by the next day and you implement phase 3 of your rapidly escalating attempts to reach out to him.

Unfortunately, it doesn't work. For one he doesn’t show up that night. Or the night after. It takes him four whole days to show up again and when he does, he spots your trap a mile away. When you review the footage on the cam the next day, he avoids the rope and the whole mechanism effortlessly.

There's no sound on the nanny cam so you can't be sure of it. But you think from the way the line of his shoulders shake as he steps over the rope that he might be laughing at you. He’s definitely seen through few supervillain traps in his days so in hindsight the probability of success here was low.

He does however eat three of your cookies this time.

You get a little bit more desperate after that.

You decide that if a trigger trap to wake you won't work, then obviously, the next best thing is for you to simply stay awake.

The problem is that he doesn't show up every night. His visits are entirely random without an obvious pattern. Sometimes he shows up two nights in a row, sometimes he goes several days without making a guest appearance on your nanny cam footage.

It means you end up downing a whole carafe of coffee, and several energy drinks, every night for a week straight. Entirely unable to predict what night he's going to appear, you keep dooming your already tiny bladder to a dozen visits to the bathroom before the clock has even struck nine.

The saddest part of it is that despite being wired on enough coffee to power a nuclear power station by yourself, you never end up staying awake the whole night through.

More often than not you end up falling asleep sitting upright by the dining table waiting up for him. Then the next morning you wake with a wry neck, a sore back and your face pressing up uncomfortably against the wooden surface.

But you're nothing if not tenacious. Tonight makes it the sixth night in a row that you’re doing this. You stare down the can of red bull on your dining table as you pick it up and lift it to your mouth. You’re going to keep going, hardness of the wooden table be damned.

You're surprised to find yourself waking up feeling well rested without any aches. Surrounded by the softness of your quilt and your even softer memory foam pillow.

The luxurious comfort of it all is such a relief that you don't even question it at first. Don't question why you're in bed when the last thing you remember was nodding off against the palm of your hand and the hard discomfort of your dining chair.

In the sanctuary of your bed, you just dig your face deeper into your pillow and snooze for as long as you can. Ignoring the bright sun pouring in from your windows until it sears unforgivingly against your skin and you decide that it’s finally time to start your day.

By habit, the first thing you do as you get up from bed is to pull up the nanny cam app on your phone and press play on last night's recording.

There's nothing of interest. Seeing yourself read a book by the dining table and chugging down a series of Red Bull is hardly riveting television.

Yesterday you barely even make it until midnight because you can see yourself nod off at the table, head sliding off your palm and plonking down on the dining table. You flinch at the impact, vaguely impressed that the collision didn't wake you.

Your (maybe vampire) Spiderman turns up at 3 am.

Much like the times before, he perches himself on your window sill, peering inside (presumably to check for any new traps you might have laid out for him).

His broad frame stiffens, and then, with a smooth leap, he's inside your apartment.

Excitement rushes to your head, because this is the furthest he’s gone and the first time he's come all the way inside instead of just lurking on the window sill.

He goes over to your bed, flinging the quilt to the side. He seems stressed, the dark shape of his eyes wide as he stands over the empty bed when it dawns on you what’s happening on screen right now.

Oh, he's worried.

He looks over at you, hunched over the dining table, sound asleep and oh god, is that drool on your cheek?

The line of his shoulder relaxes. The broadness of his chest rises then dips with a heavy exhale. Something warm trickles in your stomach at his obvious concern for you.

The mystery is confounding. You don't know him. You've never met him, but for some unfathomable reason he cares enough about you to genuinely care about your safety and you want to know why.

He makes his way over to the table where you are. The mask slowly ebbs away, uncovering his familiar chin, cheeks and then finally his eyes. An other-worldly shade of crimson that has you spellbound and transfixed on the screen.

You find yourself raising your phone closer to your face, trying to get a better look at him. Cursing the crappy quality of the video. You don't know what to make of the way he's looking at you. It's intensely focused, almost sad, and… and… And you don't know what, but it makes your heart leap up into your throat, chest clenching tight.

He bends over, wrapping his broad arms under your knees. He’s careful in his movements, cupping your head as it lolls to the side until you’re comfortably resting against his shoulders. It’s a practiced movement, as if he’s done this a hundred times before as he picks you up and carries you bridal style to your bed. Gingerly tucking you under the quilt with something that looks a lot like tenderness.

It leaves you with more questions than ever.

Ever since you started your caffeine chugging marathon, work has become a new kind of hell.

You're already half-asleep and nodding off at your desk by 10.30. Eyes sore and strained as you stare at the bright screen and try to make sense of the endless columns that are all different and also all the same until your brain refuses to try to make sense of any of it anymore.

You need to go for a walk. Clear your head.

Maybe pop out for a coffee... smoothie. Definitely smoothie.

Outside, the heat is oppressive, far too hot for only being May. Definitely too hot when there are this many tourists around. The street is so crowded you can barely make an inch of headway, trapped behind a family with a stroller in front, trapped in front of a pushy businessman who keeps stepping on your heels every two steps, and trapped next to a guy who is really into his airpods.

With the excess of caffeine still trying to make its way out of your system and the unforgiving heat of the sun beating against your back, it all has the effect of making you feel like you’re hung over. Your breakfast is roiling in your stomach. Sweat plastered against every inch of clothing. You don't know why you do this to yourself.

Every morning you tell yourself never again, and yet every night, there you were, spending half of your disposable income on energy drinks.

Starting from today, you're going cold turkey on the stuff. You've finally given up on trying to stay awake long enough to catch your super-stalker in his cookie burglar routine. Endlessly chugging down caffeine every night is not working out for you. Neither are the DIY mouse traps.

You're running low on ideas of how to trap him. You have nothing else to go on anymore. No idea on how to summon the man. The only time you know he'll be there is the moment before each near-death when he's there to save you.

What are you supposed to do with that? Purposely throw yourself off another building to lure him out?

That's crazy!

…Right?

But maybe... No! Definitely crazy.

Someone screams, and you snap out of your thoughts. There's yelling and terrified shrieks all around you. You're caught in the throng of people, panicked bodies pushing and pressing up against you, all of them trying to run the other way.

You dig in your heels, bracing yourself against the stampede of people. They’re pushing in from every direction until it’s impossible to move an inch. It’s hard to turn your body, when second after second, someone is pummeling into your side, knocking into your bruising shoulder. You barely manage to crane your neck back far enough when you finally spot it.

A red-green truck with a gigantic taco on its roof is careening towards you across the pavement, no driver behind the wheel. The sea of bodies parts around the out-of-control vehicle, people running left, right and forward to escape being crushed under the wheels.

There’s no time to react. It’s too close. Too fast.

A hand clutches at your wrist and pulls you backwards, your vision obscured as your face is pressed up against a familiar solid warmth.

"Hold onto me," he tells you, and you do.

You're held firm against him as the ground underneath your feet disappears, and everything feels weightless. Then all you hear is a loud thunderous crash.

Your feet touch back down on the ground, and the strong protective hold on you unravels.

When you open your eyes he's already gone. You're left on the corner of Lexington Avenue, still trying to catch your breath. The mob of people is still there all around you, but the panic has passed now, everyone is standing still. Everyone is observing the wreckage of the run amok truck that is now flipped onto its side, rendered harmless.

Miraculously, somehow, nobody around you seems visibly injured.

From a distance, you can hear sirens approaching with a deafening wail.

But your mind is elsewhere, on the shade of the familiar dark blue and red as you were being saved seconds ago. On his gentle voice in your ear that still thrums pleasantly in your chest.

You want to see him again.

It's Friday, and you break half an hour early for your designated 40 minutes of lunch, taking the elevator directly to the 72nd floor, which is under construction to renovate it into an open observation deck for the public next year.

The thing with commercial skyscrapers is that nowadays most of them have safety glass panels on all outside spaces of the upper floors to ensure that it is impossible to climb up the buildings and jump.

It's a safety feature that became standard after the financial crisis of 2008.

Turns out that imposing an 80 hour work week on your employees, where they don't get to see their family or friends or have a life outside of work, and then stripping them of their financial security makes a lot of people miserable and suicidal (who knew?)

The elevator pings open, and you exit into the construction zone, carefully avoiding the various tools scattered across the half-finished deck. On Fridays, the construction workers on the site leave by lunchtime, and the space is empty of people.

Step by step, you walk up towards the edge of the terrasse, until you stand before the temporary safety rail, looking out over the sprawling city below you. Cars look like tiny moving pebbles and the people, a hive of ants scurrying from street to street.

It’s a dizzying view. Both beautiful and grotesque in its grandeur. The 72nd floor will be 28 more floors to fall from than the 44th was.

The air around you seems to thin, and your stomach wants to crawl down to your feet and hold on to steady ground.

Taking a deep breath, you lift the hem of your shirt, running your hand over the safety harness strapped around your waist, reassuring yourself it's still there. Then you feel along the attached cord, using the carabiner at the end to clip it around the rod of the safety rail.

Being impulsive and daring in your quest is one thing. Reckless and stupid is another.

It’s not a real climbing rope and harness. Turns out professional safety gear is shockingly expensive, but you found a knock-off resistance training set, complete with harness and stretchy bungee cord rope, on Amazon for a very reasonable $15. You’ve already spent $72 on cookies, $50 dollars for a nanny cam set, and an extortionate $26 for stationary paper in your never-ending quest to lure out Fake Spiderman. You figure a rope is a rope, and you're not paying $100 more to get ripped off by the big climbing corporations. But you’re also not willing to go without.

After all, you've already fallen from the Chrysler building once, and you're not angling for a repeat.

As intent as you are on seeing your Spider-benefactor eye to eye, you're not quite prepared to die for the privilege. Your plan is just to make it look like you are going to jump.

Any superhero worth his dime wouldn't actually let you fall before they would be willing to save you.

That would be a real dick move.

You give your impromptu safety rig one last tug to make sure it's secure, then straighten your posture. Grabbing a hold of the metal rail, you hoist yourself up. You clamber onto it, gripping tight with shaking hands as you swing a leg over, straddling the bar.

Left leg then the right, until all of you are on the other side of the railing.

Then you stay there.

One second. Then two. You close your eyes and try not to look down at the many, many floors below, and how one gust of strong wind could probably knock you over and have you falling down the building again. You count the seconds that pass you by.

Five. Six. Seven.

A strong gust of wind blows through your side, and your legs buckle at the strong resistance, hand gripping down on the metal railing to hold yourself steady so you don't fall off.

Eightnineten! Ok. Fuck. No. You're good. Fuck this! He's not going to come.

If he didn’t come when you climbed over, he's not going to turn up now.

You briefly let go of the railing with one hand, adjusting your grip so you can climb back to safety. The sun beating down on your back disappears and is eaten up by a large and looming shadow. Every hair on the back of your neck prickles in warning.

Your reaction is too slow, you don't even have time to turn around to see what caused it. Then all you hear is an angry booming voice right next to your ear.

"Have you lost your goddamned mind?!"

You panic, flinging out your hand to catch the bar, but the hard metal of the railings isn't there anymore.

There is a sharp metallic snap. The safety rope around your waist splits from the hasp.

He’s calling your name.

The world tilts and everything goes upside down along with it. Your stomach sinks with a sickening plummet, legs dropping through into zero gravity as you find yourself staring up at the blue and endless New York sky.

Then you're falling from the Chrysler building.

Again.

Fuck!

~ Next Issue

Dedication & Credits: To my dearest @thirstworldproblemss who has to constantly listen to me jabber on about this day and night endlessly and forever. She is in every sense of the word a collaborator on this project. She brainstorms, she pitches in, she edits and she beta-reads. This and so many of my works would not exist without her, please send her all the love if you enjoyed this story.

I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!

#miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfic #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #spider man: across the spider verse #marvel #miguel ohara x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse fanfiction #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you

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scarletwitching · 6 months

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In What If…Wanda Maximoff and Peter Parker Were Siblings? A Scarlet Witch & Spider-Man Story, the fabric of reality is altered once more, and this time Wanda Maximoff, AKA the Scarlet Witch, hails from a distinct corner of the Multiverse where her origin story gets a unique twist. All Wanda has ever known is her friendly little neighborhood in Queens. As an infant, after her parents died, she was adopted into a family where her doting Aunt May and Uncle Ben will always be at the breakfast table. One that includes her idiot brother, Peter Parker, who thinks hiding a spider bite, joining a secret fight club, and becoming a super hero are somehow good ideas. When Wanda’s own powers emerge, blood, chaos, and suspicion follow in their wake. But as she harnesses her power under the guidance of Doctor Strange, Peter is standing beside her in the Sanctum Sanctorum. And as they try to protect New York City, the Parker siblings learn that with great powers, there must also come great responsibilities—and greater loss. Reeling from tragedy, Wanda finds herself truly alone for the first time in her life. Peter is lost to his own grief, and so she must strike out on her own. But on her first solo outing, she runs into a mysterious speedster—a man named Pietro. And everything she has ever known shatters like glass. Faced with unbelievable truths, Wanda is forced to choose between the life she knows and the life she could have… (x)

#scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #spider man #peter parker #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #doctor strange #prose #seanan mcguire #what if

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sokkadora · 4 months

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something there — mizu x fem!spider-woman!reader

summary: landing in a new place, and time, leads to new experiences and friends… and a hot samurai?

a/n: mizu having a thing for competence and her s/o’s being capable of handling themselves babygirl i got that you want me!!!

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): injuries, mentions of gunshot wound, passing out from blood loss yippee!!!

ALSO REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN SO FEEL FREE TO ASK!! <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

Your eyes shot open, the sudden cold chill of the snow beneath you shocked you into a sitting position. You ripped off your mask and panted, taking in your new surroundings.

You were still in your suit, which explained why you were so cold, but you were also in the middle of a dark forest. The snow seemed to cool the burning from the gunshot wound in your shoulder and the cut across your thigh, but it didn’t distract you from your entirely new surroundings.

The last thing you remember was being in New York, fighting some gang members who had stolen an artifact from the Sanctum Sanctorum… you’d taken a gunshot to the shoulder, which… ow. But anyway, you must’ve been thrown out of New York into… wherever you were now.

Shivering, you shakily got to your feet and steadied yourself against a tree. You needed to find warmer clothes, fast. You pulled the hood from your suit over your head and your mask back on for the sake of preserving body heat.

You attempted to be stealthily while stepping through the forest, not knowing what wild animals or people could in the darkness lingering beyond your eyes grasp.

After about 5 minutes of walking, you figured it would be better to scale up a tree to get some lay of the land. Maybe a city’s lights nearby to give you an idea of how far you hade to go until you reached some sign of civilization.

Placing your hand onto your eye level with the tree, you easily pulled yourself up and began scaling the tree. It took a minute to maneuver through all the branches with your injuries but upon reaching the top, you noticed a small clearing in the trees that was dimly lit, and you let out a sigh of relief.

After getting down, you corrected your course and started trekking towards your new destination. It took longer than expected because your injuries were slowing you down, but you webbed them up and continued over.

These people were sure to help you, you’re a well known super-hero. Spider-Woman, and if you were still around the vicinity of New York you should be alright…

Right?

It took until daybreak to reach your destination, you figured it would, but that didn’t make you pleased with how long you took.

Your hands were shaking profusely from the cold, and you were beginning to wish that you let Peter put the heater into your suit for days like this.

You heard rustling from a few yards ahead and scaled up the tree closest to you, your head spinning from the blood loss. You grunted softly, beginning to leap from branch to branch to get closer to the noise.

Finally, you made it a few trees away from the source, and were surprised to see a man dressed in… what looked like a chef uniform. You squinted behind your mask, watching as he cut off plants with the knife strapped to his wrist, since he didn’t have any hands.

You were about to get down yourself and approach him, but a nap just sounded… so… nice…

Ringo jumped at the sudden loud thud behind him, his humming being interrupted by a sudden gasp as he whipped around. He gulped nervously before rushing behind a tree, and peeking out from it.

He saw a figure laying motionless in the snow, that seemed to be non threatening, but the attire they donned was bizarre. Skin tight, covered their whole body… what were they?

Ringo cautiously held his knife out while stepping out from behind the tree and making his way to the body.

Were they already dead?

He gulped as he kneeled in front of the person, now clearly seeing that they’re a woman, nudging them with the arm not armed with a knife. After waiting a few more moments to confirm they were really passed out, he bit down on the dull side of his knife and placed it into his pack. He noticed the wound on their shoulder and thigh, along with smaller cuts through the clothing along the arms and torso. He carefully picked the limp body up, and began to carry them back to camp.

He knew Mizu wasn’t going to be thrilled with this new person joining, neither would Taigen, but they’d have to deal with it. He wasn’t going to leave a random woman out in the woods to die.

Upon arriving to camp, he noticed Taigen on the other side of the abandoned shrine writing something down on a piece of paper. Ringo slipped into the house from the far side to carry the body to the room Mizu was resting in.

He lowered the woman onto his futon, pulling the blanket up to just below her chin. He pulled off your mask successfully after a few attempts, and was shocked by your appearance. Mizu wasn’t in the room, but just as he was about to go looking, she stepped into the room.

Mizu’s gaze immediately fell to the figure on Ringo’s futon, a prominent frown taking place.

“Master, just listen-“

“Ringo, I can’t have anymore strays tagging along on this,” Mizu scolded, brushing past him to step over to you. Her anger paused quickly as she noticed how different you looked from them. “Who is..”

“I don’t know,” Ringo replied, stepping onto the other side of you and kneeling down, peeling off the blanket to reveal your injuries and strange clothing. Her eyes widened. “I was going to come find you to stitch up her wounds. I don’t want to encroach on her privacy since she’s a girl.”

Mizu sighed, her eyes shutting tightly. She was reluctant to do so at all, seeing as she doesn’t know you, and your attire was setting off alarm bells in her head. But she agreed, and Ringo took off his medical supplies and handed it to her before wandering off to make the medicine for when you woke up.

Your first meeting with Mizu after waking up was… interesting. She certainly didn’t act warm towards you, with her threatening you with a sword to the throat as soon as you sat up.

But after traveling with her since leaving Taigen behind, you’d began to slowly grow closer to her; more attached. She was distant at first, but slowly warmed up to you after finding yourselves in the same position.

Now, you found yourselves sparring in the middle of the woods before you hit another town the next day.

Mizu wanted to test out your spider sense; she had been intrigued by your powers since she’d first found out about them, wanting to test the limits of them, but not wanting to harm you on accident. She didn’t know how skilled you were yet.

She stood behind you and tied the blindfold over your eyes gently, making sure not to get your hair caught in the knot. She resisted the urge to let her hands wander across your taut shoulder muscles, not yet being willing to openly admire your looks.

“Alright, you’re set,” Mizu said, patting the top of your head before moving to stand a few yards in front of you from where you stood in the center of the clearing.

“If I get hurt, I’m gonna punch you,” You warn playfully, biting back a grin as you heard the sharp sound of Mizu’s sword unsheathing. You could practically feel her smirk as you remained still, but alert.

“Good thing I know what I’m doing then,” She rasped, making you swallow thickly.

The was lingering tension in the air as you heard Mizu’s footsteps go to the left, your enhanced sense cluing you in to her minuscule movements as you took a deep breath.

Before you could really tell with your own perception, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. Mizu had swung her sword skillfully at you from behind, barely grazing the hair flying from your braid as you ducked into a lunge, sliding away.

She huffed, impressed. And continued to slowly taunt you with her attacks, which you quickly dodged each time. Eventually she had sheathed her sword and began using her arms and legs to kick and swing, until you ended up pinning her against the ground, your thighs on either side of her waist.

You quickly brought your hands to her wrists, pinning them against the ground and smirking as you heard her grunting underneath you. After a moment of struggling, she groaned but you knew she enjoyed the round.

“You win, god,” She chuckled lowly. You released her wrists and tugged the blindfold off, grinning down at her.

“Not so bad, huh?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at her as she let her hands fall onto your thighs.

“Not at all,” She returned the smile, trying her hardest to hide the warmth growing between her thighs at the thought and demonstration of your capabilities. “Is it… hot out here?”

You pursed your lips before laughing, getting off her waist. “Mizu, it’s snowing outside.” You scoffed playfully, rising to your feet.

She hummed bashfully, taking your hand when you offered to tug her back to her feet. She gazed down at you softly as you brushed off your haori, smiling proudly once it was rid of the frozen mud and snow flecks.

She couldn’t help but feel her gaze soften almost inevitably as she let herself lovingly look at you for a moment while you were distracted.

Reaching down, she softly touched the braid that was slung over your left shoulder, admiring your (h/c) hair gently. You looked down at her hand, eyes wide before you tilted your head up to look at her face.

Her eyes moved back to meet yours, and you forced the fluttering feeling in your stomach away with a smile.

“Round two?”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #reader x blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai imagine #luzura writes #olive writes #zoe's works #my works

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kingpreciouswrld · 3 months

Note

If you’re still accepting Miranda Priestly x Reader fic ideas i’ve got one!

Miranda and Reader have been married or a long time now secretly of course to prevent a media mishap. The reader is a stylist who sometimes stops to visit and help with a showcase, maybe she comes in casually to have lunch with Miranda and gets stopped by Andrea and Emily who try to get her to leave as they don’t know her(only Nigel does) and they’re both trying to tell Emily and Andrea that she’s allowed back there without exposing the marriage, eventually Miranda just comes out and asks why they’re touching her wife ( or something of the sort???) feel free to branch from this

ask and ye shall receive!

I hope you like it! It's been a while since I've written for anyone but myself :3

Nobody's Gonna Know

It’s an unusually busy day in your office. The clothes you’ve ordered haven’t arrived yet and your workers seem to not know how to conduct themselves in a manner without the very needed materials. You looked on through the glass doors as your workers ran around like headless chickens, trying to come up with something to show you before you needed to leave.

As a well-known stylist, it was your job to come up with new and creative or out-of-the-box looks to those who paid for your help. You mainly helped with showcases that Runway Magazine held and the clothes you needed today were actually from Runway Magazine. Through the grapevine you’ve heard that their workers were just as clueless as yours when it came to the clothes you were seeking.

As you sat in your little office, you thought back to when you first started out. You were a nobody, hell you weren’t even a New York local. No, you came from a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having nothing to your name, you first tried making it in California. You gained some traction which led you to move to New York. At first you were against it. You didn’t like big cities all that much, it just wasn’t your scene but you knew that your talent and job called for being around big things.

A year into the job, you attended a charity event where you were introduced to the one and only, Miranda Priestly. It was hard to read the woman at first but you saw it in her eyes, she liked you or at least, your work. That’s how it all started. You started to come and do jobs at Runway Magazine while also taking some jobs on the side. Not to mention the growing relationship between you and the editor which also included the lives of her rambunctious daughters and her slobbery saint bernard.

3 years passed and Miranda and you kept things underwraps. Heaven knows you’d have a field day for Page Six and their stinging words, so you have kept your relationship from everyone. Well, everyone except those closest to you.

Sighing, you looked at the clock. It was almost lunch time and Miranda didn’t like to be kept waiting.

You grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, “Annie, reschedule the runthrough until this afternoon. I’m sure Runway will do the same due to the circumstances with its clothing gone missing. I’m going out for lunch.” Your assistant nodded and frantically went to work at her computer as you passed her.

Making your way to Elias Clarke, you weaved through the small crowds before entering the building– blending in with the clackers around you. No one knew about your relationship with the fashion queen so you easily blended with crowds and you loved it. No one bothered you.

Until they did.

You had made your way up to Runway’s floors when you passed the front desk and made your way towards Miranda’s inner sanctum. You’ve been to Runway multiple times so no one blinked an eye as you strolled down the halls.

Reaching the outer office of Miranda’s, you haven’t intended to actually be stopped by her assistants.

Andy was the first to notice you as Emily was out.

“Oh! Y/n! I’m sorry but Miranda is in a meeting so you wouldn’t be able to go in right away.”

You looked at the clock above the assistant’s desk. 11:56 am. Knowing your wife, you knew she wouldn’t mind if you interrupted her work. She never minded when you did it at home, so why would her workplace be different?

“Trust me, I think Miranda wouldn’t mind Andy. So I’m just gonna…”

You tried to step past the young woman but Andy just stepped in front of you. The assistant’s eyes widened as you tried to step past her again but she blocked your way through.

There was only so much you could do so you sighed as you looked back at the clock.

11:58 am.

This time, you tried to listen for the soft voices coming from your wife’s office. There were only two that you could pick up on. One was, of course, Miranda’s but the other was a man’s voice. Somewhat…feminine? But not too feminine.

“Is it just Nigel and Miranda in there?”

As you tried stepping past the brunette, again she blocked your path.

“Look Y/n, if you keep this up I’m going to have to call security.”

At this time, Emily walked in and took in the scene in front of her, “Andrea? What’s going on here?”

As Andy was distracted, you tried to step past her again but only to be grabbed by the arm and pulled back, away from Miranda’s office door, “Woah! Okay, no touchy, alright? These cost more than your paycheck alright?”

Emily huffed and rolled her eyes but didn’t release you. Andy looked like she was nervous about losing her job. She knew you were stubborn and wouldn’t stop until you were able to see Miranda.

“Since you already have her, escort her to the lobby Em. She’s been trying to break into Miranda’s office. “ ‘Break into’? I’m just trying to see my– ugh, look, I’ll just wait alright? You guys don’t need to be so touchy about–”

Before you could finish your sentence, the brit was already moving towards the front desk area. You immediately stood your ground so the redhead would have a harder time moving you. You’d show them stubborn.

As the three of you were arguing and you were still struggling against Emily’s hold– you didn’t know how the redhead was this strong– you three failed to notice Miranda’s office door open.

“Look, if you let me go, i’ll make sure you still have your job at the end of the day, alright?”

Emily scoffed, “As if you’re so important here, you’re just a small town no one who just happened to meet Miranda and kiss her ass all the way till–”

“Is there a reason you’re restraining my wife?”

Both assistant’s straightened their posture at the cool voice before they realized what she said.

Emily gaped, looking like a fish out of water while Andy looked more afraid of losing her job this time.

Miranda’s eyes were still where Emily had a grip on you and she glared at the redhead, “Let. Go. Emily.”

The brit let your arm go as if your arm burned her and you grumbled as you rubbed your arm, trying to soothe the lingering pain of Emily’s grip. Behind the editor, Nigel looked as if he was about to burst out laughing at the girls’ faces.

“Now, how about some lunch my love?”

#miranda priestly x reader #miranda priestly #tdwp

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sobeautifullyobsessed · 5 months

Text

youtube

I've just been watching 'Love Actually', and this really is my favorite version of 'All I Want For Christmas Is You'. And an image suddenly struck me...

So, for my few but very beloved Stephen x Hope fans out there (if I can ever finish this particular fic🤞🤞) imagine this:

Stephen has been fighting not to give in to Hope's enthusiastic Christmasing, but when he finally does, how about him surprising her with [not revealing yet] and then snapping his fingers so that this version of it sounds throughout the first floor of the Sanctum. She is astonished by the [surprise thing], but even more so when he sweeps her into his arms for a joyful dance.

*sighs🎄❤️*

@aeterna-auroral-avenger @strangelock221b @stewardofningishzida @icytrickster17

#my writing #wishing so hard that I can write this story!!!#Stephen Strange x Hope Collins #Stephen x Hope #All I Want For Christmas Is You #Christmas at the New York Sanctum #trials and tribulations of a writer #Youtube

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vickiee-mcmuffin · 7 months

Text

Swapped places

Word count: 2.9k

Pairing: Sinister Strange x Female Reader

Trope: Explicit smut (18+ Warning, Minors DNI)

A/N: Here's another one of my old fics. I have edited it and added some extra bits to it, as I thought it could be improved. I hope you like it. Thank you @strangelockd for the ideas to add :)

Summary: Stephen returns home after a 2-week-long mission, and he seems desperate to touch you. But the Stephen you give yourself to, isn't the Stephen you knew and cared for.

It had been two weeks. Two long weeks. You had been left alone, all by yourself in the New York Sanctum. It was weird staying there without Stephen. But he had work to do. Before he left he had informed you that he needed to go on a mission. A rather important one as well – because the girl he was trying to help also had the ability to travel throughout the multiverse. And you wanted to go. Really, truly did. Stephen, however, had insisted that you remain behind. It made you feel good to know he didn't want you to get hurt, and you appreciated his kindness, but you still loved being by his side.

You could never say no to him in the first place. It was impossible. And you weren’t about to argue with him and go against his opinion and word. You liked him far too much for that. Genuinely liked him. It started off as a simple and innocent crush, and that crush developed into rather strong feelings, and it led to you falling head over heels for him. But he didn’t seem to understand.

Despite your best efforts, you were never able to get him to react the way you wanted. Dropping hints, being affectionate, and responding to him in a flirtatious manner was one of your favourite things to do. There were times when you would look at him with a bright, shy smile, and he sometimes smiled at you in response. The act alone was enough for your heart to skip a beat. But that was all he gave you. A smile. A bright, wonderful smile that often made you feel faint… but that was all. You had decided that either he wasn't paying attention to you as much as you were paying attention to him, or that he wasn't as interested in you as you were in him.

*******

You were alone in your room, inside the big sanctum without another soul to keep you company. You were in the upstairs room, trying to study, but your mind was stuck on Stephen – like it usually is. But you were worried. He had been away on his mission for quite some time. The same thing had happened before: he had left for days upon days when busy with a mission, but the longest he had been away was only about a week. Stephen had been helping that girl for quite a while.

For a moment, you wondered if you should go looking for him. Maybe he was in need of assistance. Perhaps he was trapped somewhere, desperate for help. But leaving the sanctum unguarded wasn’t an option. He would never allow that.

You tapped a finger against your chin, wondering where Stephen could be. What was he doing? Was he okay? Who was he with? Was he thinking of you as well?

There was a sudden noise downstairs that forced you to focus on your surroundings and let go of your thoughts. It was the sound of the sanctum doors opening. You bolted out of your seat, moving quicker than you ever had before. You were surprised you didn’t fall right down the stairs as you practically flew down them. Soft pants were escaping your lips when you made it down them, and then you saw him.

Stephen.

You sighed happily, your heart skipping a beat upon sight of him. He looked as handsome as ever. His eyes were darting around, and you moved over to him quickly, so eager to hear his voice, to see him up close.

“Hi,” you beamed up at him. “I missed you so, so much.”

Stephen said nothing. There was silence between the two of you, and you stared at him curiously. You focused on his eyes and noted that his own were stuck on you. His gaze was intense. Dark. He was staring at you with slightly narrowed eyes and a tilted head. The look he gave you was unlike anything he had ever given you before. It made your cheeks flush red, because you were certain he was staring at you with a look of want in his eyes. With a look of desire.

Your eyes scanned his features, trying to capture every detail. Something was different about him. The goatee on his face was longer than you remembered. There was no sign of his cloak of levitation that always seemed to drape across his shoulders. When did he change so much? And why?

“Are you okay?” you asked quietly, not sure what his response would be.

“I’m fine,” he answered quickly, his voice a little nervous sounding. “Why are you asking?”

You shrugged at him. “You just look so different. Your goatee is longer.”

“I’ve been gone for so long. And I haven’t had time while I was away to trim my goatee.”

Oh, that made sense. You gave him a nod. “I see, so that’s why you look so different. But where’s your cloak?”

You noted that he seemed uneasy. His body appeared stiff, his eyes darting here and there. It was like he couldn’t get the answer out. Just as you were about to repeat the question, he blurted out a quick reply.

“It’s in another room,” he told you quickly.

You raised an eyebrow at his words and thought about his response for a moment. That didn’t really make sense. As far as you were aware, the cloak never left his shoulders unless it was for a valid reason. Like trying to save someone from falling.

“But I know your cloak never leaves your shoulders,” you told him quietly. “Unless you have a reason to take it off.”

Stephen’s cheeks seemed to go red at that, his eyes widening slightly. You could have sworn you saw him sweating a little. Why did it look like he was about to faint? You'd never seen him look that way before.

Just as you were about to ask him if he was alright, you suddenly felt his lips on yours. His tongue pushed in between your lips, a moan escaping his mouth. You gasped, your eyes widening as you tried to comprehend what was happening. Stephen was kissing you. Your Stephen. The Stephen you had such strong feelings for. The Stephen you had wanted for such a long, long time.

It was a wild kiss. Intense and deep. It was hard not to whimper as you got lost in the taste of Stephen's soft, warm lips. Having craved his touch for what seemed like a decade, you found yourself kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. As he pulled you closer, the kiss became even more heated, your bodies pressing against each other without an inch of air between you.

You then felt his hands reach down more and more until they landed on your ass. He cupped you, squeezing you tight, and you let out a soft whine. It felt so good to have him touch you, to feel him, to have him. Finally.

But why? Why was he suddenly all over you?

Placing your hands on his chest, you pulled away from Stephen, raising a questioning eyebrow at him. “Why… Why did you kiss me like that out of nowhere?”

“I’ve been waiting such a long time to kiss you, Y/N,” he told you, his voice gravelly.

Your eyes widened. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Haven’t… Haven’t you been feeling the same way?”

“I have. I have for such a long time. But… But I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

Stephen said nothing after that. He just leaned back in and started kissing you again, his tongue once again pushing between your lips. Another whine left your mouth, getting lost in the sensation of his lips on yours once more. The kiss got wilder and wilder, and you soon found yourself getting wet from the act alone. It was the same feeling you got when you looked at Stephen. When he smiled at you. When he made you want to pounce and pull him close and have him touch you.

And it seemed as if Stephen could suspect exactly how you were feeling, because he pushed one of his big hands into your underwear, a long finger pressed up against your clit. He rubbed at it softly at first, using your wetness to coat the bud, playing with your clit with gentle circles.

“Oh, Stephen,” you let out with a whine. You gripped his shoulders tightly, letting the new pleasure take over.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he whispered into your ear. “I wanna fuck you so bad.”

You whimpered at his words. “Please do it. Please fuck me. Want it so bad.”

With that, he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around him, staring down at him and noting the lust in his eyes as he moved. Taking you to his bedroom, he climbed on top of you immediately after placing you down on the bed. The two of you kissed, your limbs tangled on his bed as he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

Pulling away from you after yet another wild kiss, he cast a quick, straight-to-the-point spell. Your clothes were suddenly off, leaving you both lying there in the nude. It was noticeable that his magic for that particular spell was a vibrant purple. It was different. However, you pushed the thought aside... Stephen was always learning new spells.

He then got back on the bed and quickly spread your legs apart. Your teeth bit into your lip as you watched him settle between your legs. There was a darkness in his eyes that you had never seen before. Watching him squeeze his cock, he pumped it a few times before pressing the swollen tip against your entrance. Then he moved into you slowly, pushing into you inch by inch.

Feeling pleasure take over, you let out a gasp. “Oh, Stephen!”

A grunt left his own lips, and you wrapped your arms around his form, your nails scratching up and down his back. Moving in and out of you, he took you with slow thrusts, pushing into you with gentle pumps of his cock. You knew why he was moving in and out of you with such gentle strokes: he was giving you time to get used to his cock, to adjust to his length. It made your heart soar, thanking him in your head for his kindness.

But, you wanted more. You wanted to feel him really take you. There was only one thing on your mind: you wanted it hard, deep, and fast.

“Please… Please move faster,” you begged him with a whisper. “Oh, please, want it faster.”

Stephen narrowed his eyes at you. There was such intensity in his gaze. He had a hunger you had never seen in him before. It was as if complete and utter desire had taken over. He did exactly as you had asked. He fucked you hard and fast, his thrusts suddenly rough. He filled you up to the hilt, stretching you out as he took you. You gasped, feeling a whole new kind of pleasure. You could feel yourself dripping on his cock, coating his length with your juices as he fucked you. He made every thrust count. Every one.

The headboard banged against the wall, the noises blending in with your own whines and moans. Your nails sank into the skin of his back as you whimpered. You were sure you would leave him bleeding, but he was making you feel so good. With each pump of his cock, you moan loudly, and with half-opened eyes, you stare up at Stephen. There was a smile on his face. A satisfied smile. You could tell he was happy, seemed to be in awe that he was making you feel so good.

It was all so wild. So intense. You had no idea Stephen could be so rough and raw during lovemaking. It wasn’t a complaint. You absolutely loved every second. Every move, every touch felt like heaven. You didn’t want it to end.

“Mm, please don’t stop,” you pleaded.

“Oh, I won’t, darling, don’t worry,” Stephen muttered back at you.

The word alone made you squeal. Darling. It sounded so good coming from his lips. So filthy but good.

Suddenly, you felt large fingers wrapping around your throat. Stephen placed his hand on your neck, grasping you firmly. The feeling wasn't enough to hurt or choke you. But it was enough for the room to suddenly spin, your vision blurry as you struggled to let out any sound. With those same dark eyes, Stephen stared down at you as he fucked you, keeping his hand firmly on your throat.

“Fuck, you take my cock so fucking well,” he grunted. “So fucking good.”

He then released his grip on your neck, and you gasped, letting out a happy cry.

“Oh, that feels so good,” you whined. “So, so good.”

“I know, my love, I know.” He moved in close, kissing you again, your lips moving together as he continued pumping his length in and out of you.

He didn’t let up. Not for a second. Every thrust of his cock was so deep. You could feel his swollen tip hitting that sweet spot deep inside your pussy, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. The feeling bloomed quickly, and you couldn't control it. Your eyes shut. Your toes curled. You were so close to meeting your peak. So close

“Mm, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

Stephen moved, getting up on his knees quickly. He grabbed your hips with his hands, holding you tightly as he fucked you. He pumped into you hard and fast, and you felt your eyes roll into the back of your head. The room was spinning and your heart was racing and your skin felt so hot. Your centre felt like it was dripping with each thrust Stephen gave you, your pussy getting wetter and wetter. The sound of skin slapping skin hit your ears, mixing in with the sounds of your moans. A shrill cry then escaped your lips as you arched your back.

“Cum on my cock, darling. I wanna feel you come undone around me,” Stephen said, and his words had you whining.

“Oh, Stephen!” you managed to let out. All it took was a few more pumps of his cock to send you over the edge. That feeling inside of you suddenly erupted, your pussy gushing around his cock as you lost it. “I’m cumming!”

Stephen grunted. Your pussy squeezed around him tight, pulling him in deeper.

“Oh, I’m gonna cum, I'm gonna cum for you, darling,” he muttered out a second later.

“Mm, please cum inside me,” you licked at your lips. “Please.”

Grunting again, Stephen pushed his length into you three more times before his eyes shut and he let out a deep “fuck!” He exploded inside of you, filling up your little slit with drop after drop of thick ropes of cum. He emptied himself inside of you, your pussy completely draining him as he moved in and out of you, his thrusts still deep and hard and wild. Like he had never felt anything as good as you.

You whined at the feeling of him cumming inside of you, your slit filled with his dripping, hot cum. He gave you one more deep thrust before he pulled his length from you, settling down next to you on the bed. You looked over at Stephen, taking in his still dark eyes, red face, and messy hair, feeling more satisfied than you'd ever been before. You couldn’t believe how rough and intense he had been. But you loved every heated second.

Your eyes remained fixed on him as you moved closer to cuddle with him. There was a look of satisfaction on his face as well. You nuzzled into his chest, hearing the sound of his heartbeat. You took a few shallow breaths. You had never felt anything so extraordinary. Your body still felt hot, covered in a light layer of sweat.

“That felt so good,” you whispered.

“Agreed,” he smiled. “That was amazing.” He moved, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in close.

It only took a minute for you to fall asleep. You were so tired after what you had just done, and so happy and relieved that Stephen was back. And finally, he was looking at you in the way you had craved for so long.

You let out a soft, happy sigh, your eyes fluttering shut. You were exhausted, and you fell asleep there on Stephen’s chest, happier than you had ever felt in your life.

******

Stephen didn’t hide his smirk as he watched you. You were sleeping peacefully on his chest, letting out soft, little noises. He was proud of himself. Mighty proud. He had finally got what he had waited so long to get. He had been using the Darkhold in his own universe to watch you, spying on you every day, so desperately wanting to feel your touch…

You had no idea who you had just given yourself to. The Stephen you had grown to love and care for wasn't the Stephen that was laying in bed with you. No. Deep down, he was different from your Stephen, even though he looked almost identical to him.

The Stephen in your bed was an evil variant of the real thing. And to make matters worse: your Stephen was trapped. Trapped in an incursion universe, which was home to the evil Stephen you had just slept with, the evil Stephen you were lying next to, the evil Stephen who was staring down at you with a look of complete and utter darkness.

He had finally achieved what he had been seeking. He got you. Despite having to pretend to be someone he wasn't... It was worth it in the end. For he would do it a thousand times over just for your touch.

Tag list: @butchers-girl @azu21 @polytheatrix @lucimorningst4r @evelyn-kingsley @withalittlehoney @mirikusashes @bobateadaydreams @strangelockd @thealleydog @cemak @stewardofningishzida @lady-harvey @smokeywhalee @floatingfireflies @iamsherlocked1479 @icytrickster17 @asherloki @ssinimbrn-catsr0pia @aphroditesdilemma @strangesthirdeye @rmoonstoner @stephenswh0re

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askthesorcerersupreme · 2 years

Note

why is the new york sanctum always empty?

It’s actually not, it just looks that way because the place is so big. Compared to how much room it has and the people who reside there, I suppose you could say it’s pretty unoccupied.

#new york sanctum #wong #doctor strange #askthesorcerersupreme

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insphoeration · 5 months

Text

Loki imagine that I dreamed about

Imagine you’re dating Bucky and he’s a great boyfriend but one day on a mission he cheats on you with Nat (she’s either your best friend or someone you’re insecure about your pick either way this part is going to hurt) and you are heartbroken because she’s Natasha fucking Romanoff and you’re just a data analyst working for the avengers

And Bucky feels like shit about the whole situation, he tries to get you to talk to him despite you doing everything in your power to avoid him

This part is extra angsty but one day not that long after all the drama happens, you get hurt and are kept at the tower under close surveillance because they think you hurt yourself on purpose

You become hysterical as people around you treat you like you’re insane up to the point where you actually to try to hurt yourself

Then one day, you disappear

They check the cameras and they see that someone must have tampered with the cameras because one second you were there and the next you were gone

A year later, Thor shows up with you on his left and Loki on his right, you’re dressed like a goddess with a long emerald green hooded cape and the avengers are speechless

Thor had convinced you and Loki to accompany him to earth to help the avengers with whatever it was they got themselves into this time and when you got there Thor and Loki were excited to have you show off your powers having known all about everything that transpired between you and the avengers

Thor and Loki are jumping up and down with excitement, suggesting you go up against vision, the others are hesitant stating that it would not be a fair fight and Thor and Loki know it’s not a fair fight but not for you

And Loki walks you to your starting position on one side of the room and kisses your cheek reminding you to be brutal and you giggle and wink at him and remind him that you always are

You defeat vision and run into Loki’s arms and he spins you around with a grin and you giggle

As it turns out, after you disappeared, you somehow ended up at the new York sanctum where you were trained by the ancient one, eventually you begin to expand yourself across the nine realms, helping where needed when you met Loki

The three of you and the avengers sit down together to discuss your alliance and an asgardian prisoner the avengers captured

The avengers start to argue about what to do with the prisoner when they ask Thor because the prisoner is from Asgard and yeah

Thor chuckles and says “the prisoner will return to Asgard where he will be punished accordingly”

And someone asks what he plans to do with the prisoner and this time Loki chuckled because this is evidently the best thing ever but Thor speaks

"That is not up to me, that is up to the king and queen of Asgard." He smiled proudly, looking at you.

And you smile back at him and take Loki's hand and the room descends into chaos

People are talking over each other, asking Thor how he could give up the throne to his brother, how you could be with someone like Loki, how and when you even got your powers, and what even were your powers.

"Enough." You silenced with a commanding voice.

"The prisoner will come back to Asgard where he will be punished for his crimes. Under the queen's command."

#not proof read

#loki one shot #loki fanfiction #loki fic #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #bucky angst

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rmoonstoner · 8 months

Text

Just A Taste

***

Pairing:

SPIDER-Man/Man-Spider Peter Parker x fem!Sorceress!reader

Warnings:

18+, monster fucker smut, oral(female receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, biting, scratching, sex pollen(it's Peter's venom), size kink(peen is massive), mild rope kink, sex with a man spider, come eating, cum dumpster, a bit of ass play, over stimulation, sweet and rough monster boi

***

Summary:

You are Doctor Strange's and Christine's daughter. Your mother died a long time ago, and your father now runs the Sorcerer's Guild and is the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth 591D3R. You are your father's apprentice and live in the New York Sanctum. One night, a break in the Sanctum causes you to make friends with an unlikely creature.

***

One night, your father had asked you to watch over the Sanctum while he attended a meeting with the other Masters. It was concerning a rebuild of the Kamar-Taj after Wanda came through like a hell storm. You didn't want to go there anyways, because it wouldn't matter what opinion you had, everyone would ignore you and ask the doctor for advice. It didn't matter that he would give the same answer, only for them to be delighted about it and pretend you never said anything in the first place.

Lucky for you, Stephen had noticed, and that was another reason you weren't accompanying him this time. He was going to bring up the elephant in the room, and question the others as to why they treated you like a child. You were twenty two years old, and had been practicing magic since you were three.

He was confident that you could replace him soon, mostly so he could retire and go live with his girlfriend on Mars. You wanted that for him, more than the title of Sorcerer Supreme. She made your father happier than you'd ever seen him, aside from the times you would make him proud with your ever growing abilities in the Mystic Arts. He was nearly fifty years old now, and he'd been a grumpy old wizard for most of your life until he met the beautiful plant lady, who also happened to be a mutant.

That opened your eyes to the possibilities that were out there. You didn't have to limit yourself to your own kind, and your dad wouldn't care who you chose, so long as they made you happy and treated you right. You had your fair share of flings the past two years, and none of them seemed right for you.

There was always something lacking in the people you went on dates with. At first the potential partners were boring normal people. That was fine, but you found that their physical appearances, no matter how socially attractive they were, didn't really get you going. The sex was just as boring and unsatisfactory as the dates were.

And it didn't help things any that almost all of your dates were absolutely trying to brown nose their way into talking to your father. They treated you like some dumb little girl, and that pissed you off so much. Didn't they know that you were your father's daughter? Didn't they know that you inherited all his will and strive for greatness? Did they forget your memory was just as perfect as your father's, and you could be as petty as the great Doctor Strange?

No. They never did. And they never saw it coming when you started to ghost these people and ignore them. The last date you went on, was with some guy named Harry Osborne, the son of a rich business owner. The guy was a self-centered douche, and he spent the entire night talking about how he could make a lot more tech, if he could just get his hands on a magical energy generator. That the last one he had, didn't work the way he needed, so he 'disposed' of it like it was trash

He wasn't subtle about you being the generator, either. He acted like it would be such an honor for you to basically be his battery to power his laboratory. By the time the wine hit the table, you had gotten up and declared that you were not interested in being a glorified Barbie battery, and you left through a portal right there in the dining hall of the most prestigious restaurant that New York had.

That had been two weeks ago, and since then, tabloids went through the local and international news about how the Sorcerer Supreme's daughter had bravely turned down a corporate tyrant. Some painted you as the bad guy while most of the others printed that he was a jerk that tried barking up the wrong tree.

Either way, when your father read about it, he ended up making an appearance in his classic and terrifying smoke and brimstone way at Oscorp. He raised a big stink about how Norman's son was an idiot and to stay away from you and his end of the city or else. Poor Norman was confused, because he hadn't been in town for the past two months.

More tabloids went out the following day and claimed that Harry had been demoted. That made you so delighted to hear.

But tonight all you wanted was to watch a good movie and eat absolutely all the snacks that your dad left out for you as a thank you for doing his job for the night. It would be easy, barely an inconvenience, as he had the automated magical security system going, which would alert you to any unauthorized intruders.

The movie in question was a cheesy romance story with subtle horror elements. It was a woman moving to a cabin in the woods, trying to live the simple life. After being there for a few weeks, she started receiving gifts at her doorstep, which was eerie and unnerving, because she lived in the middle of nowhere. Over time, she caught glimpses of a beastly looking creature that would never be there at a second glance.

It ended up being some sort of large man that had multiple arms and multiple eyes like an insect or a spider.

The story went on to the woman catching him in the act of leaving a basket of berries at her door. When she opened the door for him, he jumped back and stared at her, scared and observant. She invited him into her home, and that's when the spicy parts began.

You fanned yourself as you watched the oddly best acted part of the movie. You knew the actors weren't actually having sex, but it was thrilling all the same. Thrilling enough to consider sticking you hand into your pants and enjoying the film's ridiculously long sex scene.

Let's face it, you totally did. When it got nice and good you felt relaxed and really going with the flow, until…

CRASH

You heard a shattering of glass and a loud thud. You jumped and used your magic to pause the television as you turned in the direction of the noise and froze.

You heard the sounds of shuffling, then glass being swept up, and an odd animalistic grumbling. You quickly scooted over to the doorway and peaked out into the hall, seeing a light on in the sitting room your dad used to entertain his guests that weren't heros and just regular everyday people.

Why didn't the alarms go off? Only unauthorized people would trip the sensors, so it had to be someone that was allowed access to the sanctum. Someone your father or you knew.

You got closer and looked into the room, seeing a single old lamp on in the corner, a shadow in the center of the room, sweeping the floor with three brooms. Where did it even find three brooms? Either way, you quickly loaded a couple of spells up into your hands, preparing for an attack if needed.

"Um, hello? Who are you, and why are you in my Sanctum?" You boldly asked as you stepped into the room, hands clearly holding a crackle of blue light in one hand, a conjured shield in the other.

The thing turned around and looked at you as it made a weird chittering noise and motioned to the glass on the floor like it was obvious as to what it was doing. You didn't get any threatening vibes as it went right back to trying, and failing, to clean up its mess from the broken window. You took pity on the poor creature and cancelled your spells out, going to cast a spell to fix the glass and clean up the mess instead. After, you flicked on another lamp to give a little more light.

The creature finally turned around and sighed, giving you a full view of how relieved it was. You saw that it was a man, possibly human, but he was off.

He looked like the creature in the movie you had just been watching, but even more attractive. This one had a beautiful mop of brown hair on his head, and his eight eyes were all twinkling in the light as he stared at you.

"You're… You're not doctor…" He grunted harshly, his mouth opening in the same manner a spider's would if it could talk. You stared at his teeth, the fangs specifically, seeing that he was drooling ever so slightly.

"No. I am not my father." You replied and told him your name. He looked confused.

"Who are you?" You asked, and he slurred a bit to clear the drool from his mouth as he wiped it with one of the backs of his six hands.

"Spider-Man."

"Spider-Man? But dad said you disappeared last summer."

"Oscorp. They did this. To me." He seemed to have troubles speaking. From what you remembered of the stories your father had told you, Spider-Man was a great hero, and he had suddenly vanished last summer and didn't come back. He was thought to be dead.

And Oscorp? Oh God that made you so mad, especially after the Harry incident.

"I should have known… Was it Harry? Did he do this to you?"

The man nodded and groaned as he crouched onto the ground and stretched like a cat, then he sat there staring up at you.

"My dad said you are a scientist. He wouldn't tell me your name, but after that horrible date I had with Harry, his ramblings, and seeing you, I can confidently say that you're Peter Parker." You said softly and he looked surprised.

"How you know?"

"Peter Parker went missing around the same time. Harry talked about you at great length and he mentioned he hates spiders." You replied and he huffed and stood back up, only to sniff the air a few times.

"So, yes, you're Peter Parker? Please answer me." You asked and he looked up at you, his eyes all blinking at once.

"Yes. Also monster. Horrible. Gross." He whined and looked down, his nose still sniffing as he moved along the carpet on all eight limbs towards you. He'd stop occasionally and look around, then keep scuttling until he was at your feet. He sat on his heels and looked up at you, head tilted to the side.

"No. You're not a horrible and gross monster. You're a man with a condition. A hero that needs help." You gently reached out and placed your hand in front of his face to see what he would do.

He leaned forward and sniffed it, and his eyes suddenly closed and he sighed. Peter leaned forward and rubbed his face against your hand, his tongue coming out to lick at your skin. You blushed at how he ran the thick muscle all over your fingers suggestively, and then sucked them into his mouth.

"O-ohhh…" You breathed as you remembered it was that hand that you had used to pleasure yourself during the movie. The thought alone had suddenly made you wetter than you had been during the film, and Peter had instantly noticed.

"Taste and smell good." He rumbled as his hands came up, all six of them, each one reaching for you. Two hands grabbed at your waist, another two grabbed your hands, and the final set grabbed your ankles.

In a swift movement he had you on your back on the floor, legs and arms spread out as he crawled over you, his eyes looking down at your form in your pajamas.

"Smell good." He groaned as he leaned down closer, his mouth just inches away from your neck. You felt a bit of lukewarm spit fall onto your skin, making you twitch and squirm.

"Smell so good." Peter said as he nuzzled your neck and began to inhale your scent.

"P-peter…" You breathed his name when his hands fumbled with your shirt and he brought two hands to your breasts and pawed at them.

"Soft." He said as his tongue came out to lick along your neck, his fangs grazing you gently.

"Warm. Very warm." He growled into your ear. You shuddered as he lifted your hips to his and he ground into you, soaking your panties and sweatpants through.

"Want taste. Taste good." Peter cooed while he started tearing your shirt and pants off of your body with ease. You shook in the cold night air as he stripped you bare and looked down at his handiwork.

"Pretty." Peter hummed gently, his mouth going to cover the juncture of your shoulder and neck. You could feel his fangs sink into your flesh painlessly, and as they went in, you could feel him secreting something into your bloodstream as well.

Oh fuck. This was how you were gonna die. Being eaten by your dad's friend, now turned into a man spider beast.

But why was it so hot? Why weren't you feeling any pain? You could still move and breathe, well as much as he would allow since he had a hold of your limbs and body. You could wiggle your fingers and toes, and move your head around freely. The more you moved, the more you felt a fire in your belly, and hot tingly feeling all over.

It went straight down to your core and made you ache painfully. You found yourself bucking up against him and whining as he pulled and tugged on your nipples with his fingers.

"Pete… Peter… Oh fuck… That feels so good…" You moaned to him and he answered you by growling deeper and letting go of your chest, his hands going down to waist and fumbling with his pants. He quickly pulled his cock out and you glanced down to see that it was massive and covered in thick veins. The head was engorged, leaking a heavy glob of precome that dripped down onto your mound and dribbled down through your soaking wet lips.

"Want more. Pretty hole. Dripping. Feel good." Peter's gravelly voice rattled you to your core and made the ache stronger and your pussy gush and clench around nothing. He chittered and gripped himself tightly, giving himself a good stroke and pushing another glob of precome out over your clit. His other hand came up, using his fingers to spread your lips and his thumb to rub his slick all over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Ah-ahhh!" You panted as he trilled and rubbed the head of his cock against your opening. It made you squirm and look at him, seeing that he had four of his eyes trained on your face.

"Want to fuck..?" He groaned, almost like he was now just trying to ask if this was okay.

"Please, Peter… Please… Fuck me… Put you cock inside me and fuck me, please?" You whined and begged him, and he growled and wasted no time. He pushed himself inside easily with all of the slickness you both had provided, but he was still massive and stretched you to your limit. You normally would have been in pain and fighting back, but whatever he injected you with had made it so easy to take him without hurting you.

And you wanted more.

"Good. Feels… S'goood." Peter moaned and stilled when he could go no further. You could feel his heavy balls resting on your ass, his cock pulsing rapidly.

"So tight…. So good… So wet…" He huffed as his hips began to move. He moved you around to press himself as deep as he could get, which involved hoisting you up into his lap as he cast a few webs up at the ceiling. He hung himself upside down so you were right side up, using gravity to his advantage.

In your haze of feeling exceptionally full, you felt him chitter to you as he held you tightly against him.

"Mine now. Mine. Please you good. Stay here." He hummed as started to buck into you.

"Harder…" You whimpered with each gentle thrust and begged him to go harder. He was happy to oblige you and he went hard and deep, using his many limbs to pull and tug your body in a way that he hit your gspot and ground himself against your clit with each thrust.

"So good… Warm, tight…" Peter pressed your body flush against his as he kissed you. It felt strange, but nice, feeling the way his tongue slithered around and how his lips melded with yours so easily.

You could feel his cock pulse harshly as he howled and let go of your mouth to bite down on your neck again. He felt you come undone as he pistoned into you and pumped you with more venom as he came inside of you. You felt his hot seed fill you up and leak out, but he didn't seem to be finished yet.

You could feel his cock swelling as he fucked you and kept filling you up with his come. You whined as he let your arms go to wrap his around your body as he snarled and kept going. All you could do was cling to him, one hand digging into his back, the other fisting his hair tightly as he pounded hard into you.

He spent a good thirty minutes like that in a relentless assault on your body. You were delirious the entire time, gasping, moaning, screaming for him to give you more. When he was finally finished with you, he didn't pull out. Instead, he wrapped you close to his body with his webbing, keeping himself firmly planted inside of you as he made sure you were comfortable.

You were so tired and whatever venom he put into you left you sleepy and unwilling to move. He made a pleased purring noise as he crawled along the ceiling down the hallway to your room. With barely a noise, he made a nest at the top of your four poster bed and cradled you in his arms for a long while.

***

You woke up suddenly, feeling confused and very sore. Your head was on something hard and fleshy, and you could hear a steady heartbeat and breathing. You lifted your head and went to move, only to find that you couldn't.

Not only were you bound to whoever was underneath you, they also had their painfully large and hard cock buried inside of you. You whimpered as you tried to tug on the webs, finding them not cooperating at all and they were just sticking to your fingers. You looked down and saw the man responsible for your current predicament.

Peter Parker, the Spider-Man turned Man-Spider. He was snoring peacefully, a fine line of drool on his chin with messy and tussled hair. With his eyes closed, his face looked peaceful and almost completely human, but you knew better. His six arms definitely were a dead give away, two of which were firmly wrapped around you.

You suddenly heard a thud outside of your door and you panicked, thinking your father had come home earlier than expected. You struggled for a moment, getting frustrated with how Peter seemingly stayed out cold while you freaked out.

How would you explain this to Stephen?

Oh hey, dad… So uh, your friend that you thought had died, he, well, just showed up last night looking for you, and um… We banged and he now has me hostage in my own room with his dick. While hanging in a webby nest above my bed.

Yeah, no. That wasn't gonna fly with him, and you knew it. You quickly leaned over Peter and grabbed his face.

"Wake up!" You tried unsuccessfully to wake him, but the jostling around seemed to be working. You moved your hips, gasping when his cock twitched and plumped up even more.

"Peter, please. Please wake up. I think my dad's outside the door!" You hissed as you slapped him awake. He sat up, confused and growling for a moment, until he saw it was you.

"Whaaat?"

"My dad. He's come home." You said again. Peter's face twisted into a look of worry and he looked down to see why you were panicking.

"Shit. Sorry." He apologized and cut the webbing that was holding you to him. You managed to get off of him, with a whole bunch of come rushing down your legs and to the bed below. He quickly twisted and allowed you down to the bed, and you plopped yourself down, already going to make the necessary hand motions to clean yourself and the room up. Peter sat perched on the edge of your bed, naked and curious as you frantically summoned your robes and sorcerer attire.

You heard a knock at the door, and you quickly went to it to stop it from opening.

"Are you alright, my dear?" Came your dad's voice as you slammed the door shut on him, just narrowly missing his fingers.

"Yeah. Sorry. Everything's alright. I'm naked. Don't come in." You stammered quickly as you locked the door. You heard him huff and back up.

"My apologies. I was just worried is all. You're normally awake and about before I am."

"I, uh, was up late last night watching that movie I got. I slept in, because of it." You said as you looked around for Peter's clothes.

"Really? It's noon. That's not like you at all."

"I'm fine, dad. Really."

"Well I need to discuss something with you."

"Yeah, sure, whatever ya want. Just give me a minute." You said as you went over to Peter and pointed at the bed.

"You stay here. Please don't go anywhere until I get back. Understand?" You asked him and he nodded as he crawled under your blankets and huddled there.

You turned to the door and almost thought about opening it, but instead you decided to use your Sling ring and you appeared behind your father. He whirled around and gave you a hard stare.

"Why didn't you use the door?"

"I, uh, it's a mess in there. Underwear and lady stuff strewn about. I was reorganizing my room-" You suddenly stopped talking when you noticed your father was holding up Peter's suit in one hand, and a ball of your shredded clothes covered in webs in the other.

"Uh, huh… Really, now?" Stephen asked slowly, one brow raised as you tried to outright lie to him.

"Um… I can explain."

"I think you'd better. Why was Peter's Spider-Man suit hanging on the chandelier, and your ripped and torn pajamas strewn about the sitting room meant for my guests? The room is covered in webbing, and there's a trail straight to your room." His tone was firm, but also full of concern.

You could tell he was worried for your safety, given that the last time had seen Peter was when the man had two arms on his suit and not six. You knew you'd have to come clean right then and there. Your dad has his ways of finding things out if you refused to talk.

"Well, I, uh… Peter came by looking for you last night… And…" You chewed on your lower lip and heard some scuttling inside your bedroom, and then the unmistakable sound of the toilet flushing.

"He's in your room, isn't he?" He softly asked and you looked down at your boots.

"Yes."

"Did he force you to do anything you didn't want to do?"

"No."

"Okay… Did he hurt you? Your neck is red, but your robes are hiding the rest of it." He asked as his hand came up to turn your head away so he could get a better look.

"He, um, bit me. But I'm fine. I feel fine. It's just tender there." You sheepishly said. He hummed and let go of you.

"I'll need to run some tests on you today. For now, go collect Peter, get him dressed, and coax him out for some food. I'm sure he's hungry." Your dad said and he handed you the items.

"I fixed your pajamas, by the way." He added and he turned away

"Okay… Thanks, dad."

"Oh, and sweetheart?"

"Yeah, dad?"

"I hope you used a protection spell." He said, then he left down the hallway.

You had not used any protection spells, and you felt yourself worry as you went back into your room.

Peter was sitting on the bed, looking out the window.

"He knows. He pissed." Peter muttered. You went over and smoothed your hands up his back. He chittered and leaned back as you ran your nails through his hair.

"He knows. He's not pissed. He wants you to come downstairs to have breakfast with us. Please?" You whispered into his ear and kissed his cheek. He sighed happily.

"Not scared?"

"Of you? No. I'm not scared of you at all."

"Did bad last night. I'm sorry."

"No, Peter… You did good. Very good. I was very pleased with your performance."

"I stay? With you?" He turned towards you, his eyes hopeful.

"I'll ask my dad, but we both know he will say yes. He misses you, you know." You assured him as Peter pulled you into his lap.

"Thank you. I need… Help."

"We will figure this out, Peter. My dad's the best wizard in all the land. If we can't fix it, that's okay. You can stay with us as long as you need to."

"Never want to go. Stay here. With you." He buried his face into your neck and inhaled softly.

"Okay. Can we get you dressed?" You asked and he nodded.

"Do you want me to conjure up some proper fitting clothes? Or do you want your Spider-Man suit?"

"Clothes. Please. Sweat pants. Tee-shirt." He requested and you smiled. You were about to summon some clothing, when he bit into your neck and pumped you full of his venom again. You gasped and he pushed you back onto the bed.

"Peter… What are you doing?" You whispered as you began to heat up and ache for him.

"One more taste…" He rumbled as his hands made quick work of your robes and skirts.

"Peter, if you fuck me again, I won't be able to walk! Dad's waiting and- Ooohhh…" You tried to reason with him, but he had buried his face into your mound quicker than you could stop him. You felt him spread your legs wide and holding them down with one set of arms, while another spread your lower lips out.

"Just a taste." He growled, and his last set of hands came up to your lower abdomen and he pushed down. You gasped as you felt his come from the previous night leaking out of you. He purred in delight and started to lick at your folds vigorously.

He was quite good with his tongue as he pushed it inside and swirled it around. You whimpered and squirmed, hands diving into his hair as he groaned in pleasure, savouring the noises you made.

He latched onto your clit, and when you looked down, you saw him move one of his hands downwards towards your dripping pussy. He stuck a couple of fingers in and worked them against your gspot in the hopes that you'd come for him again.

"Peter, fuck, oh gods…" You panted and bucked into his face, with him slurping and drooling all over your pussy. He groaned and shifted, bringing another hand down to toy with your ass. You could feel him grab and squeeze your flesh as he dipped a thumb between your cheeks and pressed against your backdoor.

You whimpered as he moved his thumb and collected some of his spit, come, and your fluids, then he slowly prodded inside, getting his thumb in right to the second knuckle. You moaned and tugged on his hair, feeling an orgasm quickly approaching.

"P-peter… I… I'm…" You breathed, and he started to suck harder as his tongue rolled all over your clit. You felt thr pads of his fingers pressed hard against your gspot, and you came so hard that you squirted.

Peter snarled and hungrily lapped up your juices as he kept his fingers working. You were shaking badly as he coaxed two more out of you, before letting you go to rest for a moment.

"Taste so good." He grunted while licking his fingers. He had one of his hands fisted around his cock, tugging it lightly. You stared at him while you twitched and tried to catch your breath.

"Peter…" His name came out as a silent plea, and he grinned at you wickedly.

"More. Need to feel you." He husked as he crawled back over top of you. He lifted your hips and wedged himself between your legs, his cock nudging at your entrance. You sighed as he pushed in and slid all the way back.

This time he was rough right off the bat. He held you down and fucked into hard and fast, shaking the bed and slapping the headboard against the wall. He snarled as you started screaming, and he jammed his fingers into your mouth to quiet you. You almost gagged, but managed to hold on as he dug himself in deep and kept going at that furious pace. You heard one of the legs of your bed snap, and Peter paid no attention to it. He merely went harder, feeling you shake underneath him as you came again.

"Good girl. Good f'me. Mine." Peter grunted as he reared back and propped himself up with two hands, while the other four held you close. You were seeing stars and your body was crackling with pleasure as your pussy squelched obscenely with how fast and hard he was fucking you. You were sure your bed sheets were ruined, not that you cared much. A simple spell could fix it later.

"Say it." He growled and you barely understood what he was asking.

"Say you're mine." He tried again, this time his hand coming to cup your face. You moaned, eyes watering as another orgasm ripped through you.

"I'm yours, Peter. Yours…" You sobbed against his shoulder as he growled and bit into your neck again. You convulsed and felt him come hard, painting your insides with his thick fluids.

"Good. Yours. Yours now." He huffed and rolled over with you onto your side. He breathed softly and brushed the hair from your face.

"Are you telling me that you're mine, now?" You quietly asked. Peter nodded and cuddled closer.

"Yes. Yours. Keep you safe. Keep me safe." He sighed and you smiled gently.

"I'd like that very much." You said and kissed his cheek. He purred and trilled for you as he nuzzled your neck.

"Can we please go down and see my dad now? He's been waiting for thirty minutes." You softly asked. Peter suddenly blushed and hid his face.

"Embarrassed. Doc won't be happy."

"Hush, now. He knows what's happening. If he thought you'd hurt me, he wouldn't have gone downstairs and left you with me. It is time to get your dick out of me, okay? You want more sex, you'll have to wait until after we eat." You patted his shoulder and he whined in protest, but slowly let go of you and pulled away. You felt him slip from your cunt, his come leaving a huge mess and a dull ache between your legs.

"Okay. Hungry for food now." Peter said with much enthusiasm as he gathered your clothes and brought them to you.

"Thank you. Try to behave at the dining table." You said and used your magic to clean and dress the both of you. You tried to get up and move, but found your legs refused to cooperate. Peter made a small concerned sounding noise and he came over to lift you up into his arms.

"Oh, thank you… I don't have a cool cloak like my dad."

"Don't need one. Got me." He murmured as he took you out of the room and made his way down the hall. You sighed, enjoying the way he carried you with very little effort. You didn't bother to get out of his arms when he stepped into the kitchen and nervously looked at your father.

"Took you two long enough to get down here. You're lucky I can control time, and kept the food hot. Now put my daughter down, Peter, and take a seat. Sweetheart, you might have to help him." Stephen said as he started to fill his plate. He said nothing about the bruises and the hickies to either of you. Peter ate his food in silence and when he was done he looked at Stephen, opening his mouth to speak.

"Don't bother, Peter. I'm not mad. All that I ask is you behave, if you know what I mean."

"What does that mean, dad?"

"It means he better not hurt you, kill you, or break your heart."

"So that means he can stay and we can try to help him?"

"Of course. We can make things easier for him and get his speech patterns back, but I don't think I can permanently reverse his new form without more research. I'll have a chat with Reed, Tony, and Hank, see what we can get going."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Peter says it was Harry Osborn that did this to him." You added quietly.

Your father saw red and he smashed his fist on the table.

"That little fuck is gonna pay."

***

Note:

That's it. That's what I wrote today. Fucked up and horny shit. I was high on edibles. Blame the weed. Enjoy.

***

Credits:

No one proofread this for me. I banged this out in one day.

Original post that caused this fic to happen. @refairy

I know they wanted to write this, but this hit me so damned hard and I needed to write my own. I hope you like it.

***

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#spider man smut #peter parker #man spider #peter parker smut #spider man #monster fucker #spider man peter parker #18+ fanfic

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