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marvels-bitch-boy · 10 months

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☃️ Request Version 2

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: this took me a while to finish and this is my first attempt at anything spicy. Let me know how to improve it!

Masterlist , Version 2

Jesus Christ of all the people you could have fallen for you thought it was a good idea to fall for your best friend? Wanda Maximoff is literally the sweetest and most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. Anytime the two of you hang out there’s this tension that you swear is there, she sits close to you, at parties she doesn’t leave your side, when a girl hits on you she is the first to intervene and rescue you. It’s like she knows you hate being without her. The last two months though the entire team doesn’t seem to have caught the memo that she wasn’t interested in dating. She’s had to reject 10 guys so far that everyone brings to dinners or parties. At this point, it was starting to annoy you because there wasn’t an event that you could enjoy without some creep hitting on her. A few times she had you pretend to be her boyfriend to scare them off. Those were times when you felt like there might be a chance between the two of you. Like there was a world where you were one of the guys that got set up with her. The chance to show her what she deserves from a guy. The only problem with that is the whole team completely forgets about you when they make those decisions, and you don’t want to ruin any of the great parts of your friendship.

You were sitting with Wanda on the couch in the common room watching an old black and white movie you had been begging her to watch with you. One Two Three was the name of it and as soon as you said it was your favourite movie she couldn’t have agreed faster. She sat next to you as she always did but it felt different. It was most likely just you because she seemed as comfortable as ever. You looked down and saw her eyes light up from the action happening on the screen in front of you. The sight made this movie even better, the joy it brought her seemed to solidify its spot in your heart. You smiled as she laughed and commented on the ridiculousness of the film. When the “itsy bitsy polka dot bikini” song began to play you enthusiastically jumped up and began to dance. This made her laugh even harder, you knew the words by heart and would hum it on almost every mission. Now she knew exactly where you got it from. Her clapping that followed the beat was only encouraging you to dance more and soon you lifted her up to dance along. She was having trouble keeping up as she continued to laugh. You loved this more than the movie itself. Once the song ended you plopped back down onto the couch in a fit of laughter, she landed almost directly on top of you which only strengthened the fit of laughs and giggles coming from the two of you. This was a moment you wouldn’t trade for the world. Having your best friend by your side as you watch your favourite movie, laughing and dancing was one of the things you wouldn’t sacrifice. Even if there was a slight chance she felt the same you couldn’t risk losing this. You’ve never felt like this for someone and you would take whatever you could get from her.

The fridge door opening caught your attention and your laughter ceased, you became more serious and Wanda rolled her eyes at this. She jabbed you in the side before turning around to face the person. “Tony?” she taken aback by his appearance at the compound since he no longer lived there “Isn’t it alittle late for you to be here?” This caught your attention and you finally realized the time. It was well past 11pm and you rarely ever stayed up this late. Deciding to chime in you smirked at him “You get kicked out by Pepper again?” he mocked laughter before he murmured a small “yes” which made you crack a real smile. Wanda however paused the movie and motioned for him to join the two of you. You flashed her panicked eyes and she glared at you which immediately made you shrink.

“What’s the story here? All I see is communism and Coca-Cola” you rolled your eyes and sighed before resounding “That's what makes it funny… and the rushing to convert the communist to Coca-Cola” you chuckled at the last part. Wanda however apparently didn’t see the movie as either of the two.

“There a love that no one seems to think will work but in the end they do, and theres also a lesson about acceptance,” she looks back to you “and learning to take risks.” that last part felt very directed at you. You shyly nodded your head and went to continue the movie but Tony again interupted. “So Witchy, you rejected the guy Natasha brought to dinner. I have someone who you’ll love, he’s sweet, smart, good looking, loves old movies and shows, has a good job, And! He happens to be a good friend” your heart started to jump at each word he spoke. Theres no way that Tony was the one to finally give you a chance, he had been trying to set her up with every shield agent in the compound. Maybe he saw the way you were together tonight. He saw the way you looked at her and he saw something you were missing in how she felt for you. “Tony, I’m not interested in anyone you guys set me up with. I’m fine with just my friends” she pats your thigh which sends a shiver along you and your entire body stiffens like a peice of ply wood only for a second.

“Maybe hear him out, the guy sounds okay…” you hoped you were making the right decision, praying to whatever being was there that this tin can wouldn’t screw you over. Attempting to ease her nerves you held her hand in yours “Look, if it doesn’t go well I’ll be ready with a bat or some Sokovian snacks.” she seemed to relax at your touch and looked back to Tony “fine, but only once.” he jumps up victoriously. You have a sneaking suspicion that you just got fucked over by the giant dancing baby infront of you. Internally cursing yourself you unpaused the movie and settled back into the couch, Wanda settled into your side and you felt like maybe just maybe you’d be the one she ends up with.

—

As the music rages on at yet another stark party you find yourself alone for the first time that night. Wanda hadn’t been answering your messages all night and you had begun to get concerned. You looked around to attempt to see her auburn red hair anywhere in the crowd of people. You would have thought she stood out like the sun on a cloudy day. She had never left you alone at any avengers function, no matter who had been vying for her attention she never left your side. Tonight though seemed to be different. Tony had approached you earlier in the night with a man directly behind him who you noticed was dressed almost exactly like you, even his hair was styled similarly to yours. Questioning him about it led to nowhere -as always.

As you attempted to find the red witch in the crowd you were pulled towards the bar by a small pair of hands that you had assumed belonged to her, but when you faced the woman you found a random pair of chestnut brown eyes that greeted you with over-blown pupils. This was not at all someone you recognized. “Uh… hi?” you attempted to be polite as you were stuck between the bar and this woman. “Can I help you?” She laughed and her breath alerted you to her inebriated state even more.

“I saw you from across the room… you’re very very handsome” she slightly slurred her last few words and you gently attempted to keep her stable as she swayed for a moment. This caused a coy smile to appear on her face. “So strong” you gave her an obviously uncomfortable smile and attempted to guide her to a seat but she forced you down onto it and took the spot in your lap. Now you were getting very uncomfortable. You’ve had these things happen but by now you’d already have been rescued by Wanda and laughing about the situation together, though you were alone now, forced to figure your way out by yourself.

When she reached for another drink you stopped her and in a panic, you drank the whole glass and she cheered you on. You looked at the bartender of the night and asked for two vodka redbulls, you felt like you would have to be an awake drunk tonight. She saw the look on your face and quickly produced two glasses full. As you chugged the glasses you looked around the room once again hoping to find Wanda on her path towards you to rescue you from this absolute stranger. Instead, you were greeted by her smile and laugh as she sat on a couch with a random man. You felt jealousy fill you and your heart began to sink. Your distraught appearance was caught by her eyes and she looked between you and the woman on your lap once you saw this you looked away from her and back to the woman. Plastering on a smile and placing a hand on her thigh -an act that made your skin crawl and felt so unlike you. As you sat there attempting to not give Wanda any of your attention and keep focused on the person in your lap there was a tap on your shoulder and the sound of someone's throat being cleared, turning around you found Sam with pursed lips and eyes that communicated to you his exact reasoning for being there.

“Y/N!” he said through a gritted smile “Maria was looking for you. Now.” you didn’t need any more from the man and began to excuse yourself from the woman who whined as you left her. Sam gave you a smile as you kept walking along with him and patted your shoulder. You reached the only quiet part of the room and you were greeted by Maria sitting in a corner tending to a scotch. As you joined her Sam sat on the armrest of the loveseat and questioned you on what he had to save you from. “A pretty girl was on your lap and you looked like you were being mauled by a bear, what's up with that?” his brows connected with the expression he made and you wanted to laugh but you were still recovering from the uncomfortable situation.

“I don’t do that, I like to take things slow…” you saw Maria nod her head at your words but Sam didn’t seem like he was buying what you were selling “and she wasn’t the person I would let -do that” That on the other hand had him convinced, he looked around the room and you shook your head, “oh no you don’t nope! No, you’re not gonna guess”

“Ah! How’d you know I was doing that?” he grinned at you and it changed your mood, how could anyone not be in a good mood when Sam is there? He was the second person you had met when you joined the team and he was also the second closest person to you. So far to your knowledge, he didn’t know about your feelings for Wanda and you wanted to keep it that way. He was notorious for trying to play matchmaker, he once tried to set up Maria and Steve… that was an interesting month.

“You can’t seem to butt out of my romances… which don’t exist might I add” that last bit made Maria laugh slightly and Sam gained an offended look on his face. Shaking his head and grabbing an empty bottle that sat on a nearby table he set it down.

“You won’t tell me, fine we’ll figure it out the old fashion way” You looked at him cautiously as he spun the bottle and waited for it to land on one of the three of you. It was just your luck that it stopped dead in front of you. Fuck. there was no way he would let this go if you told him, and he would most certainly keep this up until you did. He exchanged looks with Maria and she leaned forward to whisper in his ear. His expression changed and you saw the mischievous grin he had plastered on his face. “Truth or Dare.” He spoke not as a question but a statement, you knew you had to answer in some way.

You took a quick glance at Maria who had a knowing look on her face, did she know? How would she? You groaned and looked at the ceiling as you contemplated your choice. “Dare… Was going to happen anyway” Sam cackled for a moment as he stood up and looked around the room and set his eyes on something you couldn’t see. “Alright big man, I want you to go and make a move on the girl you so desperately-”. You interjected “Desperate? Who-”. “-want so badly… if it doesn’t work out let us know, we’ll forget this whole thing”.

You didn’t believe him on the last bit but you could easily pretend or come up with a lie to say you tried. After all, how would they know? This way you didn’t have to tell them it was Wanda. Nodding your head you stood up and shook hands with the cheeky man. “Anyone ever tell you you’re a pain in the ass?” he made a faux look of hurt and clutched his chest “You kiss your mystery girl with that mouth” you rolled your eyes and walked away from the two who gave you a few small cheers as you made your way across the room. Within almost a few seconds you were met with the red auburn hair that plagued your mind. You felt the warmth radiate off her as you waited for her to turn around even a milimeter. When she did you found her dancing with a man that seemed slightly familiar- for fucks sake Tony! It was the man he had been trying to set Wanda up with, you remembered him from the earlier encounter at the bar. You felt a swarm of jealousy cover you like a bee hive over a keeper. You wanted to rip him away from her but she quickly saw you and stopped dead in her tracks, her face filled with embarrassment that quickly changed to guilt as she looked in your eyes. You felt the sour look on your face sear into her mind and you began to walk away. The door to the hallway was farther than you remembered at the beginning of the night, the people around you seemed to make a clear path in your mind. Suddenly you were stopped by Tony who had a concerned look, you attempted to walk past him and muttered small insults at the man but he ignored them. “Wanda doesn’t look to good… take her back to her room? She asked for you” he had to slightly yell the second half of his request as the music pounded into your skull. As much as you wanted to be upset with the girl she had no idea of your feelings, she wasn’t to blame here, infact no one was… except you. Nodding he guided you towards her as she sat on the edge of the couch and seemed to perk up as she saw Tony with you. Placing a hand on her forehead you felt her temperature was higher than it should be and you gently guided her to stand up. She moved like a wet spaghetti noodle with how flimsy she was. “Hey, red…” she nuzzled close to you and you sighed as you picked her up in your arms. Her breath hit the raw skin of your neck and almost made you stumble as you walked. Steadying yourself with the idea that she was too intoxicated to control her actions you made your way into the hallway. One of your hands made small circles on her back as you carried her along, attempting to soothe her in her current state. As you passed your room she seemed to whine as you continued.

“No… I want Y/N’s bed” she spoke softly into your ear and that made your heart almost burst -even if it was slurred. You stopped and looked down at her and the sight made your willpower crumble like an ancient statue. “I want Y/N.” a small smile hit your lips and you turned around back in the direction of your room. “I’m here, don’t worry koldovskoy I’m not going anywhere”.

—

As you set her down on your bed you felt her temperature once again but she began to squirm. She wiggled her way into an upright position and you asked her what was wrong. She simply said “Clothes” and began to reach for her zipper on her back. She struggled and you stifled a laugh as you reached to help. She swatted you away and for a moment you feared you had crossed a boundary, she usually allowed you to help her when the night became this blurry and she had said on multiple occasions she trusted you, instead she rubbed her eyes and spoke “only Y/N can do that…he’s gentle” this made you laugh at her words, no one else on the team would even use that word to describe you. You were known to cause damage to the compound, and rip clothes whenever you couldn’t make them fit, hell Tony had to reinforce your phone because you kept destroying them. She was the first person to call you gentle. When you looked back at her she gave you an offended look. “Don’t laugh at him!” you stopped and gave her a soft smile.

“Okay… what else do you think he is?” you weren’t going to lie, this made you curious but you also hoped she didn’t answer, whatever she would say to you wouldn’t be fully truthful. She isn’t in a conscious state of mind, you didn’t want to find out what she thought about you while she was also attempting to rip her dress off. She let out a huff and began talking, you stood up and rummaged through your clothes in the half-lit room. Grabbing her a nightshirt and a pair of pyjama pants as you listened. “He’s sweet, handsome, -and he is sooooo funny. Tony said I should ask him out,” you stopped moving altogether, what? “-oh! He also liked old movies, and he’s handsome” the repeating of her words didn’t help you regain any composure as she sunk into your pillows. You snapped back into reality and lightly nudged her the clothes you expected her to go into the bathroom or something to change but she somehow managed to unzip herself partially, you took in a sharp breath and went back to your clothes and didn’t turn around as you rushed to the bathroom to change yourself. You mouthed curses at yourself as you remained confused and perplexed at her words.

Leaving the bathroom in your captain america pyjamas you found a sight that wasn’t unfamiliar. Wanda laying in your bed cuddled up under the covers. You decided to take the floor on the bottom of the bed, you didn’t want her to wake up hungover in the same bed as you, -which wasn’t an uncommon thing but you felt like things between the two of you needed to change, especially if you were going to get over her. Right as you closed your eyes you heard her speak up once again “I can’t sleep” you looked over and saw her fling the covers off herself “It’s so cold…” just as quick as her words left her mouth she was asleep. Or so you thought.

—

As you were in your dream fighting off a field of bears with Viking armour you suddenly felt yourself lose your breath. You began to attempt to catch your breath and you ended up waking yourself up as you had attempted to breathe. Your eyes remained closed but you could feel a weight on your chest that was warm and seemed to completely surround you. Your nose filled with a familiar scent and you finally opened your eyes. Shit. That was the first thought you had as you opened your eyes. You found the woman who you finally realized was actually interested in you and was now resting her head on your chest. How the fuck did I end up in my bed?! I fell asleep on the floor. Her head moved and you froze in place not wanting to wake her up while you were in this position. Slowly as she moved her head off of your chest you carefully exited the bed like a snake and slithered onto the floor and ran into the bathroom to hide for a moment. Her voice softly called out for you only a second later.

“Y/N?...” her voice seemed different. It wasn’t the way she usually called out to you, it was soft. You quietly spoke from the bathroom “Give me a second, I’ll be right back” you splashed your face with handfuls of water and started gulping down as much from the faucet as you could. You could feel the hum of a hangover leaning over you. You didn’t drink more than a few glasses, how the hell do you feel like shit now? Opening the door and walking back to your bed your feet hit the cold empty glasses that seemed to litter your floor. Confusion etched onto your face and you continued to make a path silently to your bed. Laying down and encasing yourself with the blanket you were caught off guard for a second as you registered who was still in your bed. Holy shit. This is real, and you were in bed with Wanda. You felt her hands roam your torso.

Wait.

You didn’t have a shirt, or pants on. You remember going to bed in pyjamas.

The feeling of her pressed against you under the covers was soothing. And her voice almost sent you back into a deep sleep. “So warm” her words were stretched out, as if they were a cat waking up from a nap. She was just as warm as you. Your hand moved to her thigh that had was already draped over you. Running circles on her back and her thigh, your hand acted as though it already knew how she liked it.

You two layed there until 10am when there was a knock at your door. You grogily got out of bed once again and navigated the maze of bottles that littered your floor. Grabbing the first shirt you saw and slinging it on before answering the door. Opening it you came face to face with Sam. SHIT SAM!

He looked at you with a mischievous grin and attempted to enter the room but you kept the doorway blocked. He raised an eyebrow before he looked you up and down and pursed his lips as he held in a smile. “You uh… have fun last night?” you rolled your eyes and go out into the hallway with him. You close the door softly hoping not to wake Wanda who was still fast asleep in your bed. Whispering to Sam in an almost yelling manner “Sam… please tell me you had an after party in my room because I have no idea how I now have so many empty bottles… and a girl in my bed” The last part of the sentence dropped his jaw and he yelled out in excitement, you quickly covered his mouth shushed him as loud as you could while whispering “Shut the fuck up! She’s sleeping!!” he nodded and you dropped your hand from his mouth. “What are you doing here? I don’t have training today and we don’t have a meeting”

He looked at you with a smug expression. “I came to see if you were dead after all the booze you had me bring you…and your special friend -which by the way,” he pointed at you “you wouldn’t tell me who! Tried to ask you a few times and you laughed” You felt the memory break through your mind and rush to the surface.

—

You left the company of Wanda sitting on the floor with you and answered the door. Sam stood there slightly dishevelled, his pupils were blown and it was very obvious he was on his way to bed after his delivery. He handed you three multipacks of assorted drinks and some snacks, placing the multipacks inside you closed the door just enough to hide the full view of Wanda and thanked him. He attempted to lean over and get a glimpse at your mystery woman but you moved the door and smirked at him. He tried to question “Who’s the lucky lady?” you shook your head in defiance and winked at him before giggling like a giddy kid and shutting the door. You turned around and saw Wanda begin to laugh at the sight of you and take a swig of the malt you had been saving. “Guess I must be your lucky lady…” you stood there and looked at her. “I think I’m the lucky one right now” taking a drink out of the multipack you take a gulp of it and sit down next to her. “Now where did we leave off??...right!” you grab the remote and unpause the movie. You two weren’t actually paying attention to the movie instead you were progressively getting drunker and performing horrendous imitations of the characters on screen and mocking their decisions.

—

Oh fuck. Did you flirt with her? You’ve never flirted with Wanda before. Oh, this night was definitely weird. You turned back to Sam “Yeah… about that sorry man, I kinda can’t tell you… yeah, bye!” quickly turn around and dashed for your door, slamming it in front of him as he tries to catch you. You definitely woke her up now.

Standing in the entry way of your room and the light peaking through the curtains of your windows you get a good look at Wanda. She is laying deeply under the covers and you could have sworn she looked like the most beautiful person in the entire world. Taking a step forward warily incase she opens her eyes and is startled by you. She isn’t, she groans as she covers her head with the blanket. She speaks slightly muffled under the covers “get rid of the sun… and please tell me sam didn’t need me” You chuckle at her words and honestly you would make sure the sun never shined again if that is what she truly wanted. “No, he didn’t need you -he wanted to make sure I wasn’t dead after last night” she peaks out of the cover when she hears you closing the curtains even more. “Why? What happened?” you freeze in place and look at her, did she not remember? Or did she -much like you- have it all trapped under the surface in her mind?

Reaching down you grab the pair of pyjamas that you had given her last night off the floor, the slight flash of hands ripping them off her body came to the front of your mind. “Not much, I don’t remember that much” handing them to her your fingers touch slightly and theres a twist in your gut at the contact. “I-uh, I’m gonna…just go shower real quick,” you swallow hard as she sits up and you notice her full lack of clothes “do you wanna- would you want to go after me? -or do you want to go back to your room…” your words trail off and you thought for a moment that she had a look of confliction, not just on a simple decision but in the way she sees you. Her eyes had slipped down you for a second before slingshotting back up to your face and her expression changed. “Yeah…-I’ll go after you,” she gave you a smile and you nodded before turning around and stepping over the bottles once again. Cursing yourself for going so overboard the night before. As you discard the shirt that you now realize is one that Wanda had left in your room days before. Turning on the shower and waiting for it to heat up you look in the mirror and notice something. Multiple large red and purple marks on the base of your neck, shoulder, and collar bones. You looked like a bruised cow. Touching them and they don’t feel like bruises. Another part of the night comes to mind.

—

Eventually, you two reach the rom-com section of cheesy movies and the drunker you are the closer you two get. While Wanda mocks the lead actress of the movie you catch yourself staring at her lips, not even going up to see her eyes but rather zoned in on what she is saying and the smile she had. “Who even falls for the best friend in real life anymore?!” her words dragged you out of your frozen state. Her comment on the storyline had you nervously laughing “no one, it's all just in movies, those are who fall for their best friends”

You tried to add to her point “And books…only ever works out in books” Your eyes seem to have a mind of their own and they dart to her lips once again. She whispered something you couldn’t understand and started to slowly lean in. Your mind went blank you and you froze once again as she made contact with your lips. She pulled away quickly but your brain seemed to catch up and you slammed your lips back against hers. The taste of the alcohol on her lips added to the feeling of weightlessness. Your hand came up and cupped her face, while the other wrapped around her hip and pulled her close to you.

—

“Oh shit” you whispered out and your hands came up to your face. “I’m fucked” slipping off your boxers and slipping into the warm water you feel a sting as it runs down your back, a sharp yell leaves your throat as your body moves on autopilot to escape the water. “JeSUs FUcK!!” jumping out of the shower you stand away from the mirror, stretching yourself to get a good look at your back you see long red marks and a few open cuts along with them. Your eyes widen as you try to think back on the night. It hits you and you let your head go ‘thunk’ against the wall. Sighing deeply you enter the shower once again as the fuzzy memory comes to you.

—

You’re hoisting Wanda up onto the bed and her legs wrap around your waist as your kisses deepen into a hungry battle. The two of you attempt to bring the other closer. It slightly fades from your mind and then suddenly you are over a topless Wanda who suddenly flips you. Drunken giggles release from both of you and within seconds you are kissing with both your smiles pressed against the other. Your pyjama pants were already gone from view and so was your shirt. Or was it? Your mind starts to meld and soon you are faced with the image of Wanda against your neck and the memory of her body against yours. Breathing heavily you move in tandem with her hips.

—

Finishing up the shower you dry off and pick up your clothes, entering into the rest of the room you notice Wanda had left and you feel a twist in your stomach, like something just feel from a thousand feet in the air on your heart and it fell through every other organ. The dryness in your throat came to and your mind swirled with worry as you began to think of why she left. You know you didn’t take too long in the shower -you actually finished it faster than usual-, maybe she started to find pieces of the night just as you were. That made the knot even worse. Quickly you got dressed and rushed out of your door. Blowing past Sam in the hallway, Bruce in his lab and as you round the corner into the kitchen you collide right with who you were searching for. Wanda. “Shit” The impact had knocked one of the drinks in her hand and spilled all over the both of you. Discarding your shit that was only half wet you attempted to use it to dry her off before slight giggling from Tony could be heard behind you as he walked past.

“Nice battle scars…” fuck me. Thats all you can say to yourself as you realize what he is referring to. “Who’d yo get them from” he takes a sip of his coffee with a coy look on his face.

“No one, I uh… must have fallen or something last night” You see Pietro approach you with a spare shirt that he had run to grab as soon as you tore off your own. Unbeknownst to you Wandas eyes were locked on the marks that decorated you and she began to connect the dots. Putting up a front she looked away and headed back into the kitchen. You tried to follow her as you slipped the new shirt on, but quickly Maria pulled you aside by your ear as you almost reached Wanda. She took you down the hallway and into supply closet. “What the fuck did you do last night?” you looked at her with the widest of eyes and the dullest of brains behind them.

“Nothing…” she hit your chest with a smack “Don’t lie to me,” her finger was pointing into your chest now “I can tell something happened between you two, now spill!” you swallow what is left of your pride, and take a deep breath. “I have some faint memories of it, -like a few non PG memories…” you scratch the back of your head as you try to wrack your mind “I’m pretty sure we slept together, but I don’t know if she remembers it or not”

Maria looks at you with exasperation “okay… are you blind?? Because the way she was walking out of your room I could see what happened” you felt yourself go red with embarrassment. “Do you think she’s upset with me?” She sighed and averted your gaze. “I don’t think so…but if you ignore this for too long she might think you are”

God dammit.

Standing there after Maria left the cramped space you thought for a second. You’ve had these feelings for Wanda held up inside forever, you’ve wanted to hold her and kiss her since the first day you met her. You finally got to but you barely remember it and you don’t even know if she remembered it too. Theres a fear that lingers in your mind that she regrets it, that the friendship you two built so delicately formed and that this had ruined it. You leave the closet and walk into the kitchen. Looking for Wanda you scan the room but you’re unable to find her. Leaving with a huff you head back to your room. Your head was pounding and you had a stash of advil in your nightstand.

As you open your door you hear the water running in your bathroom. The sound of someone in the shower scared you for a moment before you knocked on the door. The sound of the water stopping and footsteps you recognized approach the door sent a chill across you. She opened the door and within second you were face to face with Wanda covered in water droplets and draped in your towel. You felt a lump form in your throat as you looked over her. Your surprise was written on your face and she panicked for a moment, apologizing for using your shower and attempting to get past you. You put a hand out and stop her. Looking down at her you ask her the question that is tugging at you “do you remember last night?” she opens her mouth to speak but you cut her off as you know that look on her face all too well “-don’t lie, please… don’t lie” the two of you were close. Close enough that you could feel her breath on your skin, you could feel the beat of her heart as she stared up at you.

She looked at you, a mix of fear and nerves decorated her face. You had matched her nerves now. Her expression shifted “Do you?” you looked at her lips and back to her eyes. The distance between you felt like there was none. Your mouth felt dry, your palms were sweaty, and your hangover was arriving with a passion. “I-um, I remember alot” you avoided her eyes as you spoke to her. “-What about you?” you’re holding your breath as you wait for her answer. It feels like it takes ages.

“Me too…” your hand that had been blocking her went to her waist.

“Do you have any regrets?” her eyes flickered down to your lips and her breath hitched. She shook her head and you leaned down. You whispered against her lips “neither do I” and this time your kiss wasn’t rushed, it was slow and full of all the emotions and love you had held for her in your heart. Her hands weaved through your hair and you felt a sense of deja vu, you held her closer than you could last night. Yours bodies disconnected but not your lips. You felt her hands leave your hair and play with the hem of your shirt. They disappear under and within seconds she’s tugging it off you and over your head. You release a giggle as her cold hands run over your skin. You guide her farther into the bathroom by her hips and close the door with your free hand.

The two of you finally got what you wanted. To be in the arms of the one you love.

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melancholiania · 1 year

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I'm back...I guess.

male reader smut. which one?

#marvel male reader #marvel smut #marvel x reader #mcu x male reader #mcu x reader #mcu smut

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havensins · 11 months

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may I request a Miguel with praise kink, just soft sex turned rough with some overstimulation and like,, claws and biting from both Miguel and reader :))

ahh i luv miguel </3 (tw. overstim)

i’m gonna preface this by saying; i don’t think miguel is a brat. i think he’s just so new to submission and not used to feeling so out of control that his conflicting emotions present themselves as being bratty or disobedient.

he truly wants to be good for you, but sometimes it’s hard :((( he’s trying to work through that and with how much he trusts you, it isn’t hard at all.

it wouldn’t be hard to notice how well he responds to praise. with the way he’d falter in whatever he’s doing and look to you for more.

even while you’re fucking into him with his thighs spread wide and his head thrown back into the pillows supporting his head, with you draping yourself over him so that you could whisper the filthiest things into his ear… with just a few words of praise, he’s clenching around you so tight & cumming onto his stomach.

and his mind can’t decipher when foggy pleasure that clouds his brain disperses and borders on painful, though he can feel every inch and every vein of you filling him up. he’s moaning out so loudly, his oversensitivity making tears gather at his waterline and threaten to fall.

his hands find your back, claws poking you as clumps of tears fall down his cheeks. “fuck! fuckfuckfuck..” he curses. he whimpers, burying his face into your shoulder as you’re urging him to yet another orgasm.

he makes an unintelligible sound when your teeth sink ever-so-slightly into the skin of his neck, keening and spurting out another load of cum.

“nnngh, too sens- sensitiveee!” he whines, mouth falling open as his warm breath puffs against your shoulder. “you- you got another one for me, fuck! don’t you?” you curse, grinding your hips up into his.

miguel was extremely tight and it didn’t help that your own loads were making the slide easier. the sounds were so fuckin’ sinful, the wet plap of your hips into his only egged you on even more.

you weren’t nearly done with him for the night, though miguel had no objections to any of your plans.

#answered #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #spiderverse x male reader #spiderverse x reader #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #sub!miguel #sub!miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x male reader #miguel o’hara smut

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nouearth · 9 months

Text

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter…

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it.

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more.

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end.

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was.

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

“oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy.

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen.

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you.

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change.

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face.

you. that was all he wanted.

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look.

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then. not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now.

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,”

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur.

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise.

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you.

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it.

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment.

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress.

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch.

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

“i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster.

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it.

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor.

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed.

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more.

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off.

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean.

nothing was wasted.

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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l1tw1ck · 9 months

Text

The Fall of Spider-Man

bottom!ftm Miguel x top!masc!villain reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,897 🕷️

AFAB Language Used

CW: Non-Con, Kidnapping, Lingerie, Fingering, Squirting, Cunnilingus, Overstimulation, Crying, Corruption, Creampie, Nipple Play, Pregnancy Mention, Stockholm Syndrome (Kinda?)

Miguel’s eyes shoot open. He immediately analyzes his surroundings. He’s tied up and on the floor. He can't see anything but he can tell he’s wearing lingerie. He feels sick. His first instinct is to try and get out of his restraints but no matter how hard he tries, nothing happens. He’s powerless. How? Why? When? Where the hell is he? He looks around the dark room, stopping to look at a door. There's light coming from behind it and he can hear movements. Footsteps. Getting closer and closer.

“You’re awake! Good morning, Miguel.” You smile, turning the lights on before walking towards him. “How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” He asks.

You give him your name. “The person who's going to defeat Spider-Man once and for all.” You grin. “Although my methods are a bit unconventional.” You chuckle.

Miguel keeps his mouth shut, waiting to hear what you have to say next. Your confidence scares him. It's not like he's never met a confident villain before, it's honestly less likely to meet an insecure one, but your confidence is scary. You know something he doesn't. He knows you're dangerous. He always chooses to fight but everything inside him is screaming to run away. It's not like he has the choice now though.

“Pretty soon, you’ll be my beautiful husband and the father of our children.” You kiss his forehead. His heart drops. “But first, I’m gonna have some fun with you.” You kneel down and caress his cheek. He grimaces in disgust. “Let me give you the play by play.” You push his lacy red panties aside. “First, I’m gonna play with this pretty pussy of yours and give it a lot of love.” You rub his clit. “Then, once I’m done, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you. I’ll make sure to go real slow, make you feel every inch of my cock.” You bring your fingers down to his entrance and push two of them in.

“Yo- you're sick.” He spits on you.

You wipe your cheek. “I didn't give you permission to speak, or spit.” You slap his cunt, earning a moan from him. “Watch yourself, Miguel.”

He looks at you angrily but doesn't say anything, too ashamed of the sound he just made and too afraid of the consequences to do so. You push your fingers in and out of his cunt, giving Miguel unwelcomed pleasure. “You like that?” You smirk, moving faster. He bites his lip to silence his moans. “I know you do. Even if you try to deny it, your body doesn't lie.”

He hates this so much.

“And then, I’ll pick up the pace. I’ll fuck you rough and hard. So rough that you won't be able to think. So hard that you’ll cry.” You push your fingers all the way in and thumb his clit, moving your fingers inside of him absentmindedly. He tries to fight against the pleasure but it's no use. He’s going to come.

“I’d love to see you cry.” You grin. He’s not going to cry. He might do a plethora of shameful things tonight but one thing he isn't going to do is cry. He refuses to. “I know you think it's impossible but it's not. And I can't wait to see you break.” You punctuate your last word with a hit to his g-spot. Miguel gasps, hips raising in the air as he squirts. Miguel looks down at himself in shame, cheeks burning hotter than a flame. He’s never done that before. He hates that you're the reason it happened. “Oh Miguel…” You let out a sharp breath.

You move in between his legs and dig into his wet cunt, slurping up his slick before tonguing his sensitive hole. Miguel squirms around in protest. Why does this feel so good? He wants to curse you out but he's worried about what you’ll do if he acts out. He feels terrible and so fucking good at the same time. He wants to kill you but he also doesn't want you to stop. He rolls his eyes back and squirts again, feeling extremely exhausted.

You pull away and stand up, stripping down to nothing. Miguel looks at your cock in horror. That's not going to fit! He desperately tries to get away but he can't do much in the position he's in.

“You’re really boosting my ego, Miguel.” You chuckle, kneeling back down and grabbing his waist. You pull him close to you so his thighs are on yours and your shaft is right against his cunt. “I’m going to enjoy this.” You look at him like the 5 star meal he is. You move him so that his pussy is sliding up and down your length, bringing the both of you pleasure.

He bares his fangs, showing you how angry he is without speaking. “Aw, you don't like this?” You frown, faking sympathy. “Or is it that you want something else?” You grin. “You want me to fuck you, is that it? You want me to finally fuck you?”

Miguel shakes his head rapidly. You move him backwards, just enough for you to be able to make an easier entrance. You point your tip against his clit, smearing pre cum over it and sliding down in between his folds. You tease him with your entrance, you're gently thrusting into him but only the tip is entering him. He can't stand the feeling. You eventually stop and slowly push your cock inside of him. You weren't exaggerating when you said he’d feel every inch of you. You’re practically tearing him apart with the way you’re stretching him out. You bite your lip, thoroughly enjoying his pussy. “I think I’m in heaven.”

If you’re in heaven, then Miguel’s in hell. You slowly slide in and out of him, reveling in his wet warmth. “That's right baby, sit back and take it like the pretty little slut you are.” You place your hand over the bulge of your cock on his stomach, enjoying the way it feels as you move and how sexy he looks with his tummy bulging. “You’re doing so good for me, you know that? Doing so well…”

He doesn't want to be good for you. He doesn't want you to enjoy this. If he wasn't afraid of the consequences he’d curse you out. You rub his clit gently, causing his breathing to turn shallow. “I wanna feel you come..” You mutter. “Come for me, baby.”

He grits his teeth, trying to stop himself from giving you what you want but it's too difficult. He can't hold back. It all feels too good, his pussy feels way too good, he can't do anything to prevent this. He shuts his eyes and comes, walls fluttering around your length. “You’re such a good boy, Miguel. You may be prickly but at least you know how to follow orders.” You caress his cheek. He turns away from your touch. “Even after all that…you're still trying to keep up this facade?” You pull away and turn him onto his stomach. “You won't be able to pretend any longer, Miguel.” You raise his ass in the air and plunge your length fully into him. He gasps. Miguel doesn't even get a minute to adjust to the new position thanks to you suddenly pounding into him. He rolls his eyes back, letting out uncontrollable moans as you fuck the shame out of him. He can barely think over the explicit sounds of your hips snapping against his ass and the loud wet sounds of your cock sliding in and out of his sensitive pussy. You're going too fast for him to even try and act like he doesn't like it. He’s always had a thing for being treated roughly and you're fulfilling his need for it. You pull on his hair, causing him to let out an almost scream-like moan as he squirts.

“Fu- fuck-” He feels tears welling up in his eyes as you continue fucking him through his orgasm.

“‘M gonna give you the child you always wanted, Miguel.” You fuck him even rougher than before, chasing your orgasm. Tears flow rapidly from Miguel’s eyes, as if there was a blockage that contained all his tears and prevented him from crying all these years. He sobs, crying loudly as you overwhelm him with pleasure. It feels good but it's too much, he can't handle it. He loves it but he needs it to stop. “Ah, I love hearing you cry..” You slow down your thrusts and dump your load inside of him. Miguel uses this break to finally catch his breath and calm down.

“Aw, was it too much for you, baby?” You coo, rubbing your hand down his back.

Miguel nods. “Ple- please..” He whimpers.

You pull out and turn him around. You pick him up and sink him down on your cock. You place your hands on his waist and kiss his cheek. “You’re so pretty when you cry, you know that?” You caress his face gently. He sniffles, not sure how to feel about that. You press your lips against his, kissing him slowly and sensually. Miguel reciprocates the kiss, following your tongue movements and subconsciously grinding down on your cock. He feels a little less stimulated than before. He feels like he's about to have an orgasm that’ll never come and somehow it feels good. He doesn't know how he feels about you now but you make him feel good, and thanks to the current state of mind he's in now, that's all that matters.

You pull away from the kiss and pepper kisses down his throat and to his chest. You undo the clip in the middle of his bra, causing the two cups to separate and reveal his breasts. You latch onto his nipple, sucking it gently while your hand goes to pull and twist on the other one. Miguel whimpers in pleasure. His nipples are so sensitive, he’ll definitely come from this. “mmh..” Miguel grinds down harder as he orgasms, his pussy clenching and unclenching around your length. You pull away from his nipple, your saliva dripping down the brown bud.

He still despises you but he knows he'll be stuck with you from now on. He’ll eventually learn to love you.

Miguel turns on the radio as he starts cooking breakfast. The reporter talks about all the crime going on in the city and he doesn't seem to care, even though he’s back to normal and completely autonomous, he has no intention of going out to fight. He wants to stay home with you. The Spider Society’s been trying to contact him but he's ignored all their calls. He only leaves the house for dates and groceries, why would he go anywhere without you? He loves you so much, he wants to stay by your side as much as he can. Nobody seems to understand it but he doesn't care to explain it to them. Peter B. and Jessica have been trying to convince Miguel to come back and many spider people have tried to kill you but to no avail. He doesn't want to come back, especially not when they're trying to kill his beloved. He’s perfectly content with where he is now and he can't wait to have his first child with you.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dark content #tw noncon #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara smut #spider man x reader #spider man smut #🕯️Miguel O'Hara #🕯️spider man #🕯️marvel #ftm character #sub character #dom male reader #afab character #into the spiderverse smut

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teaaagan · 6 months

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Hug

Y/N: Do you need a hug?

Natasha, upset: WHAT DO YOU THINK??

Natasha: *Storms off*

Y/N:

Natasha, coming back: Yes please, I’m sorry

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rahhhbananas · 10 months

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✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐍 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. a lot of characters

summary. Y/n is very protective of his son (aka Spider Plush).

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, foul language, Hobie is a major bully

a/n. Y/n and Spider-Plush are the new Miguel and Lego Spider-Man

“He is a person! And you will treat him that way!”

The voice of Y/n welcomed the newly woken society. It was around 7 am, and a commotion had begun in Miguel’s office. As the sun lazily illuminated the sky, Miles groggily made his way towards Miguel's office, attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. He couldn't fathom why there was such a commotion at this early hour. "Why is there so much yelling? It's 7 in the morning...!" he groaned, his voice laced with exhaustion. Miles walked through the door, greeting Gwen and Peter B. who were watching the scene amused. Miles looked to see Y/n in a heated debate with both Miguel and Hobie, although it was mostly Hobie, Miguel was sitting down, trying to sooth an incoming migraine.

Pavitr stood at Y/n’s side, cradling a….Spider-Man…plushie? “What is going on here..” Miles who was now wide awake stared at the situation, looking at Gwen for answers. Gwen responded with a chuckle “Get this…their arguing because Hobie skipped Spider-Plush in line for breakfast.” Gwen managed to say between fits of laughter. Miles gave Gwen a look “So, he doesn’t believe in consistency and he doesn’t believe in manners?” Miles watched Y/n, who looked like he was on the brink of committing murder, due to Hobie’s nonchalant face. Peter chimed in, catching a swinging Mayday “I don’t think he did it to be rude. Maybe because he likes getting on Y/n’s nerves,”

Jess who just walked in looked at Peter, “This early morning air finally gave you a brain?” She walked towards Miguel, handing him water and probably a headache pill. Miguel thanked Jess, looking up at the continuing argument. “Yeah..and how did Pavitr get into all this?” Miles questioned, Gwen laughed, for what seemed to be the 4th time “That’s even funnier! He’s trying to take Hobie to court,” Miles smiled, seeing the obvious amusement in the situation “Yeah, somehow he’s got a diploma in that stuff.” Jess chimed in from the computer.

“That’s not the fucking point, Hobart! My son deserves respect! You’ve made him cry!” Y/n gestures to the “crying” plushie, and Pavitr who’s nodding in agreement. Hobie scoffed “Cryin? He’s got a tear sticker on ‘is face! You’ve got yourself fooled!”. This was Miguel’s last straw, he finally flipped the table, literally, sending everything flying— including the cup of water, that Spider-Plush was now drowned in. Gasp filled the small crowd, the laughter coming to a halt to stare at Y/n who was breathing heavily, trying to calm down.

Y/n slowly turned, looking at the soaked Spider-Plush. The plush squeaked, comical tears spewing from its large eyes. Y/n turned to Miguel and Hobie— the latter raised his hands, in a attempt to prove his innocence, he instead pointed to the leader who sported a small bead of sweat, his posture straightened “Umm, that was an accident- I was trying to de-escalate the situation. My anger over took…” Y/n pounced on Miguel, not letting him finish his sentence. Miguel tried to pull the other off his face, stumbling around while knocking things over.

“I-it was an accident!”

“YOU HORRIBLE PERSON!”

“GAAH! WHERE DID THESE CLAWS COME FROM?”

“DON’T….WORRY ABOUT IT!”

“JESSGETHIMOFFME!”

“Sorry, Miguel. I’m not getting into this fight.”

“APOLOGIZE OR SUFFER!”

“AHHHH!”

The crowd watched in silence as Miguel walked out with a bucket on his head, drenched in water. Y/n, on the other hand, walked out cradling his son, the plush wrapped in a towel, Y/n cooed trying to calm down the squeaks emitting from the plushie. Y/n walks up to the group, staring directly at Hobie “Hobart. My lawyer will contact you.” Y/n pointed to Pavitr, and somehow the teen was in a suit. Hobie chuckled, “Fair enough.” Hobie looked at Gwen “Gwendy. Ya down to be my lawyer?” Gwen shook her head “Nope, your not dragging me into this.” Hobie sighed in defeat “Alrigh’ Miles, see ya in a suit on Tuesday.” Hobie shook said boys shoulders, before running off, leaving the boy no time to complain.

Y/n looked at his boyfriend, tutting his head “Fine. Miles. You wanna play that game? Helping my enemy!” Y/n groaned, pulling shades from seemingly nowhere, while also putting them on “I want my child support by Friday,” Y/n said, striding away, Pavitr shuffling after him, the stuff suit preventing him from running.

Meanwhile, Miles stood shocked “Child support? Wha…what is he talking about!” Gwen shook her head disapprovingly “Come on Miles, don’t play dumb, take responsibility.” She advised before departing, leaving Peter who shook his head as well “Don’t worry kid, we’ve all been there..” Peter smiles, before joining the rest.

“Wha- what are you guys talking about!”

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fr3akingtf0utrn · 11 months

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Oh?

Interesting.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x male reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel o'hara x reader #marvel #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown

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weyirn · 10 months

Note

HII!! I was wondering if you could do spider verse head cannons for a reader who is kind and shy but so badass during fights??? Maybe with Miguel O’Hara, Peter B Parker, Hobie, and Pavitr?? You can also include other characters if you would like 🤍🤍

Hi! I only do multiple characters for Preferences, but I'll be happy to still do this request!

Spiderverse x Male!Reader

Marvel Preferences: They React To You Being Shy But Badass

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Miles is gentle with you and always there to provide reassuring that you're doing great. He may look out for you more than others because of how shy you are, but he knows when to step back if he thinks you got it under control. When he finds out how badass you actually are, he's definitely shocked for the most part, but he's also amazed at the same time, being almost speechless by it.

At first, Peter thought you needed just a bit more confidence and tried to help you with that, being with you very step of the way and always comforted you. But when he saw just how badass you are, he's surprised but very proud of you. He (out of exictement) asks why didn't you tell him you could do that, so amazed by you and your skill.

Hobie would encourage you to step outside of your comfort zone or to open up more. But he'll be there for you if you need back up, in case anyone's being rude to you. When he finds out just how badass you are, he nods in approval, saying that he knew you had it in you, roughly patting you on the back.

Miguel was protective of you at first, being by your side whenever he can and checking up on you. On seeing your skills and how badass you are, he's more impressed than anything. He praises you on your skill, now knowing that you're capable of handling your own battles.

(⬆️ his reaction lmao) Pavitr liked to tease you and joke around with you (not out of malicious intent, of course). He was absolutely amazed at how badass you are, asking why you kept this "secret" from him, and he even brags about you, wanting you to show everyone else your skills (only for you to probably get shy again).

Noir was protective of you, and noticing how shy and kind you were, he was willing to protect those sides of you (or whatever he calls it-). Noir thought you weren't capable of fighting, but once he was proven wrong, he's surprised, but also praised you. Now he knows that the two of you can fight together, but he makes sure to always have your back for your (extra) protection.

#male reader #x male reader #male!reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x reader #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x male reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x male reader #miles morales x reader #miles morales x male reader #pavitr x male reader #pavitr x reader #spiderman noir x reader #spiderman noir x male reader #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown x reader #peter b parker x male reader #peter b parker x reader

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super-marvel-dc · 3 months

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Bucky, holding a rock: Y/N just gave this to me and said "I feel like you deserve the moon but all I can give you is a rock."

Thor: If you don't marry them, I will.

#bro y'all should give your significant other pebbles because male penguins give the female penguins pebbles to woo them #I'm gonna be a penguin #I wanna date someone and give them pebbles until they figure it out #like hello! i love you! take my fucking pebbles!#eat pebbles bitch!#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #the winter soldier x reader #thor odison #thor #incorrect marvel quotes #marvel incorrect quotes #marvel

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sideblogofhell · 7 months

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a forbidden fruit

summary: pietro eats something he shouldn't have pairing: pietro maximoff x male reader word count: 1.1k warnings: 18+ warning, s3x pollen, blowjobs, unprotected sex a/n: part iv have fun do leave comments if u liked it

masterlist | the repentant's corner

Pietro dashed around the lot sixteen times to make sure no one was there. You rubbed your hands together for some heat against the chilling night. The grass crackled beneath your feet trying to chase after your partner. You ended up a panting mess next to him, your knees shaking.

“So I was thinking, after this patrol maybe we could go out sometime?” he said, his breath unwavering. You gulped and tried to let out a word, your voice dry and coarse. You nod, sweat dripping down your forehead.

“Can you focus?” you said, trying to open the door. He broke open the warehouse padlock with ease, vibrating at a pace that dislodged the gears that kept the lock secure.

You slide the rusty door open into a dark room. Pietro used a flashlight to look into the path. The warehouse was small, almost the size of a barn, the floor a flat grey concrete, the walls tall and rusted. There were a few broken wooden crates scattered all over the floor, a metal table on the farthest left.

Your partner zoomed into the room like a faint blue flare. He checked to see the contents of the crates, all seemed empty. He sat on the metal table, a few newspapers sprawled out and a white dish used as a makeshift ashtray.

“Look at this,” he pulled out a small ziplock bag filled with different sugar-coated candy like Skittles. He takes one out and puts it in his mouth, licking the sugar off his fingers. You took the bag from him, smelling the contents; sweet and fresh. “Want one?”

“You idiot! I don’t think this is candy,” you took the bag inside your pocket, Pietro smirking. “We have to send this to the lab.”

“It’s fine, fast metabolism remember?” he shrugged.

The plane ride back to the compound was quiet. Pietro sat away from you and kept to himself, which was very unusual. He would always try to bother you while you flew the quinjet, always teasing and messing around, but right now he was slumped over to the side using his phone.

You arrived at the compound a few hours later, the airdock marshalls taking over the jet. You asked other agents to rush to Dr. Cho’s lab to send the candy samples. “Pietro and I found this on patrol tonight,” you gave the pack to her assistants before they went on to test the samples.

Your phone dinged to a message from Pietro. Meet me in the conference room at 4B ASAP.

“Fine, I’m an idiot,” he said. “My dick has been so hard for the past five hours and I can’t make it go away!”

“Your what?” you looked at the tent in between his legs, his knuckles were pale white as he gripped onto his pants. “Well I knew it was a drug but I didn’t know it was that kind!”

“What are we gonna do?” he said, his silver-gray hair all tousled over his forehead. He zoomed around and around the room, a cobalt blur blew gusts of wind everywhere he went. He stopped in a corner, his legs shaking and his face flushed.

“We?” you clamored. “How the fuck am I supposed to help?”

“I don’t know you’re smarter than me!” his eyes widened, his voice shaking, sweat dripping down his forehead. He braced for another run but you held onto his arm. He shuddered, his skin was hot.

“We should tell Dr. Cho,” you said. “Get you medicine or something.”

“Absolutely not,” he pleaded. “It’s embarrassing,” his eyes wandered all over the room as if the answers were written on the walls. “We should deal with this the way it's intended.”

“Yeah, no,” you said before turning for the door. Pietro suddenly was in front of you blocking your exit.

“Please draga—“ his lips were dead set. Pietro was an ill-tempered man, his demeanor was quick like his abilities, charismatic but also stubborn. You thought for a second, you’re helping a co-worker that’s all right?

“Well, how do we do it?” you said. He removed his jacket, and his blue shirt underneath. You marveled at his taut chest, the ridged cuts across his abdomen, and the two lines pointing down his sex. You tried to look away, but you couldn’t believe someone could look like that, like a Greek sculpture.

“Come here,” he said, pulling you into a kiss. His lips were warm against yours, his stubble pricking at your cheeks. Your hands find his chest for stability, snaking around his neck to pull him closer. His large arms circle around your waist, finding the hem of your pants and going through to your ass.

He spun you around and pinned your hands above your head, using his other hand to pull your pants down. He smoothed his palms on the plump mounds before giving it a spank, leaving it a red blush. He practically rips his pants open, his thick cock hard and leaking. He spits on his free hand, using it to prepare you.

“I’m gonna go in okay?” he said in a whimpering tone. You nod, your cheeks warm. He spits again to lube his cock before feeling the pressure on your hole. It was sharp for a bit, the pressure easing as he flushed himself in, the base of his cock hitting your ass. He stops for a second, relishing the heat from your body. “So tight—”

You grunted when he pulled out, only to thrust back in. He began to fuck you at a languid pace, the sensation soothing the tingly feeling Pietro got from the drug. He tried to go slower, to make sure you won’t get hurt but he couldn’t. As you tried to move your hips at the same beat of his body he started to—vibrate.

You let out a gasp, you thought of the toy you had at home, the one you use thinking about him, but the speed and intensity could not rival him. Pietro let out a series of cusses in Sokovian, it sounded like he was pleading to a god. Your knees turned wobbly from his thrusts, his body vibrating at a pace that made your eyes roll back, your own sex hard and leaking in your trousers.

“Pietro—fuck,” you moaned.

“I can’t control it, you’re too warm,” his words shaking. “And good,” He let go of your hands, shifting to your waist, he gripped so hard you knew it would bruise. He moved quicker, like a piledriver into you, it stung but the pleasure of hitting your prostate compensated.

When gripping onto your waist wasn’t enough, he wrapped his arms around your body hugging you, and began to thrust into you harder, his silver hair plastered on his forehead wet. Your body tried to keep you up but your legs betrayed you. You fell down, his cock pulling out. “I can’t stand.”

He pulls you to the table nearby, propping you with your legs on his shoulders. He lines himself back into your hole driving back into his thrusts. The vibrating began again, shaking the table as he gripped it on its edge. You let out desperate cries, he tried to soothe you by kissing your lips, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth. “I’m close—” he cried out.

You nodded, the constant stimulation to your prostate was going to make you cum untouched. His thrusts became erratic, still a vibrating mess. Pietro stood up and you marveled at the glistening sight, his abdomen contracting and relaxing on each thrust, his head pulled back and his lids closed.

And then the climax hit, cum shooting inside you in thick, your own release spewing on your belly. The vibration slows, Pietro a panting mess for once, a side of him you’ve never seen. He places a peck on your lips and mouths praises.

“So about that date?”

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff smut #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader smut #pietro maximoff x male reader #pietro maximoff x male reader smut #avengers smut #marvel smut #mcu smut #male reader #male reader smut

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marvels-bitch-boy · 1 year

Note

It's me, the anon who requested the fic that eventually became Snowfall, back again ☃️

Lemme get, uhh, can I get a Wanda x male reader....yeah, let's do that aight *cracks knuckles*

Can I request a wanda x male reader where r has liked Wanda for a while but has been too scared of messing up their friendship to tell her. But one night they're at a party at the Avengers HQ and Wanda ends up drinking a tad too much and r ends up taking care of her because he always takes care of the drunk people and at some point during the night she lets it slip that she has feelings for him and he doesn't say anything because he knows she's drunk and probably won't remember anything in the morning. But the next morning she remembers telling him and is all embarrassed and then he tells her that he likes her too and yeah that's it. Do with that what you will, end it however you want, fill it with fluff and angst, keep up the good work, thank you for your time and consideration

Sincerely,

☃️

*Cracks Knuckles* OKAY!!!! I've decided to do something different. I have things I like about both versions I made for you. So I'm just gonna give you both!!! I changed my mind!!

Version 1: Wanda x Male Reader

“C’mon Wanda! Just one date with the guy” Tony walked hot on her trail as she entered the training room. You stopped your movement as soon as your fist left the punching bag in front of you. For almost a month now the entire team -except you- had been trying to set her up with practically every guy in the state, at team dinners they’d bring it up, at parties they’d all invite a new guy every night. She caught your glance you quickly went back to your activity. You felt her eyes on you even as she began to speak, overhearing the rest of the conversation put you slightly at ease.

“Tony… again, I’m not interested. Just drop it.”

“Okay but you haven’t even met him, and you keep rejecting all the others, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were… secretly with someone already” Nevermind, you stopped again and began to pack up your things, you didn’t want to hear this anymore. The thought of Wanda being with anyone started to make you nauseous, and if she did this was not the way you wanted to find out.

She didn’t speak for a moment before her voice got louder it echoed through the large matted room. “I’m not, you just keep suggesting guys who aren’t my type.” stopping in your tracks you turn around and face the pair, what you’re about to do could be pretty risky if you didn’t word it right. “What exactly is your type? I might know a guy…” as you said this she seemed to look at you with desperation and her shoulders deflated slightly. Shit. That wasn’t the reaction you hoped for. “-I mean, I know you better than Tony. I’d have better luck” again you felt like those words weren’t the ones you should have used. She looked at you with a mix of emotions and you chose to drop it now. You turned away and took one step towards the door before you heard Tony call out to you. “Hold up there Mama-Bear, you coming to the party tonight?” You flipped the bird and faced him. “Yup, only to make sure I don’t end up fishing you out of the pool again.” The last few parties he’s thrown have ended with you carrying him back to bed or just plain babysitting the rest of the team while you stayed stone-cold sober the entire night. You actually once had to carry a past out thor back to bed, his hammer was on the top of the toilet seat so you had to sober him up first thing in the morning. He didn’t like that very much.

Wanda now called out for you and you couldn’t help but stop for her. “You wanna spar? I could use some help” you pretended to contemplate for a moment before smirking at her “loser has to drink anything the winner orders them tonight” she grew a cheeky smile and agreed. These kinds of bets you loved with the witch, she always used her powers and you always found a way to win. Tony rolled his eyes and went to leave as you dropped your bag at the edge of the mat. “You know my type. Why’d you ask?” she eyed you up and down. You of course knew her type. After all, she was practically your best friend, you just wanted to make sure you checked off all the boxes. See you have been in love with this girl for over a year now, you never made a move or even considered she’d see you like that. I mean no one on the team had tried to set you two up. If no one else thought it’d work why should you? Plus, you loved your friendship with her, ruining that would be like putting ketchup on an ice cream sundae. Absolutely horrific.

“Just wanted to double check…sometimes things change” you let a small smile lift the side of your mouth and within seconds you launched yourself at the witch. She didn’t fully dodge you and instead, she ended up tackling you to the floor and landed on top of you. Your faces were inches from each other, you could feel her breath on your skin and you only looked into her eyes. “Somethings do,” she said before you felt frozen in place and noticed you had red clasping your hands to the mat and your abdomen was pinned by another bar of red. You laughed and she still looked at you with an expression you hadn’t seen on her face.

You tapped the mat three times and she let you go with a victorious smile. “How do you feel about Vodka? Or Absinthe? -you know what don’t tell me, it's more fun that way” you looked at her with soft eyes and you knew that tonight would involve a lack of babysitting.

- - -

That was a fuckin lie. You were now holding tony above your head as he was whining to be put down. “That was a dick move man,” he stopped whining and now sulked in defeat. “Apologize to her, she said she didn’t want to meet the guy” you put him down and looked around for Wanda who you had lost in the commotion of yelling at Tony. He had arrived with a man who in your opinion looked familiar, he was very giddy to meet Wanda. It made you uncomfortable to even look at him. You wouldn’t say you were the jealous type but after you saw Tony drinking more with his buddy and stumbling around to her with the man, you pulled him aside and began to chastise him. Your gaze went from concerned to a slightly surprised and then quickly heartbroken one. You saw her at the bar with the companion of the tin man. She seemed like she was actually flirting with the guy. But why? She never flirted back with the guys the team brought for her. She never even once left your side at these parties but now you were alone with a drunk Tony and for the first time ever you felt like you needed a drink. You grabbed the tray of champagne that passed by you the fifth time tonight and drank at least three of the glasses. Tony looked at you with pure shock and a shit-eating grin. He lifted his arms and cheered before he was the one dragging you over to the table set up with cups on either end and the two men on one side cheered when they saw you. It was Sam and Thor who looked at you as if you had come back from isolation. Tony handed you a drink and soon you were playing beer pong.

You felt a hand tap you on the shoulder and you turned around with a drunken smile to greet the girl. “WANDA!!! Have you had this before? it’s great!!” you handed her the cup that was in your hand, she looked at you surprised and concerned. This was the first time she had seen you actually drink at a party. She seem to understand what to do but she sniffed the drink and looked at tony like he had poisoned you. “Did you give him a cup of Vodka!?” he looked at her with his signature grin and nodded like a sugar-high toddler. “Y/N how about you have some water?” she attempted to guide you away from the game but you wiggled away. The sight would have made her laugh if not for the concern she was holding in. “No! I haven’t finished the game, why don’t you go flirt with that guy again” you turned away with a sour mood covering your entire face. You landed another shot and everyone cheered but you turned back around and saw that Wanda was already gone. You lazily excused yourself from the crowd and made your way to the bathroom. Purging yourself of the last 20 or so shots you had ingested and forcibly sobering up -even though you couldn’t figure out how to open the bathroom door again for 10 minutes. Wandering around for Wanda you now found her at the bar with a few girls sat next to her who saw you and seemed to light up. Wanda though caught their stares and fell into you, you wrapped your arms around her and held her up. “I’m tired now” is all she said and all you needed to hear before you nodded in agreement and walked her out. Still slightly intoxicated you both used the other for support as you walked the hallways of the compound.

After climbing a flight of stairs you slid down the wall to the floor to catch your breath, the witch decided to do the same and soon the two of you were sitting side by side. She put her head on your shoulder and runs her fingers along your forearm. You giggled at this and she looked up at you with a smile. “You’re cute when you do that,” your eyes were between open and closed as you took in her words. “Actually…” her voice got lower and she leaned up to your ear “You’re cute all the time” this made your body light up and your face filled with shock. You opened your mouth to speak but she stopped you. “Remember when you asked my type?” she sat up and played with your fingers that sat on your thigh. You nodded and she continued “Well, I do think you’d have better luck… you know why?”

You smiled “Cause I’m your best friend?” you laughed a little and those words seemed to knock her back a little. She sunk back down and quickly got up. “Hey, wait where are you going?” you struggled to get up as fast as she did but when you did you reached out to stop her and grabbed her wrist. When you did you tugged her back to you and now you were standing closer than you usually would, your hand still around her wrist and your faces as close -if not closer- than they were when you spared that afternoon. “I- I don’t…” you were looking deeper into her eyes than you had ever before “-I wanna be your type. I don’t wanna be friends” you felt yourself leaning in but you were quickly stopped by the sound of Tony's laughter filling the hall. You caught what you were about to do and your pulse sped up rapidly before your breathing joined and you apologized before you practically ran away. You could hear her call after you but your instinct overpowered your heart and you continued all the way back to your room. As soon as you closed the door you felt the rest of the drinks from tonight come rushing up and ran to the bathroom.

- - -

The next morning you woke up in the bathtub… you didn’t even realize you had a bathtub. Your head pounded and after about what felt like an hour you heard a knock at your door. It came again and you yelled at the door. Not at whoever was on the other side -but the actual door. When you opened it you found Wanda with the messiest hair you’ve ever seen and two cups of coffee. She looked like shit, and you felt like shit. You invited her in and as soon as you got close to her the memories of last night began to flood your mind. At first, it was the ones of her and you on the floor, the sweet words she said and then slowly the ones that you wanted to forget the most. Her with the man Tony invited, the two of them flirting at the bar and the feeling of hurt that had overcome you.

She set her coffee down on your nightstand before plopping face-first into your bed. She slowly lifted her head and looked at you confused. “Why is your bed already made?”. You let out a forced laugh and groaned as your head once again pounded. “Slept in the tub…-did you know we have tubs?” you said as you too flopped onto the bed.

“I did not… wait you slept in the tub?” you nodded and she laughed before groaning again. “I slept with my head on the floor… the rest of me was in the bed… is it weird I liked it?”

“Of course,” you sipped your coffee and turned to her. “...you wouldn’t happen to remember last night?” she looked at you and slowly shook her head. “Cool, -I -I don’t either” you avoided her gaze and reached for your phone. “Shit. I have a call from Tony… And seven from Sam,” you whispered “I didn’t even know he had my number” Then you notice the voicemail that was from Wanda. Your thumb hovered over the play button but you quickly closed the device and turned to her. “Want doughnuts?” her head was now enveloped in the pillow. “I want a lobotomy” she murmured which caused you to snicker. She hit you in the shoulder and it hurt wayyy more than it should have. You lifted the sleeve of your shirt and saw a big purple bruise, it was oddly shaped and you knew what it was from… You’ve decided to never drink again -or listen to Tony.

Getting up from the bed you tapped her leg and she jolted back to the land of the living. “C’mon, we have to eat” you grabbed a fresh pair of clothes and went into the bathroom. As you took off your shirt you saw a mark on your neck, it wasn’t purple but the colour seemed familiar. You shrugged it off and soon the two of you began the trek to the kitchen. As soon as you got there you were greeted by a cheerful Steve and a very hungover Sam and Tony. Sam only looked between you and Wanda and Tony whistled before chastising himself for the loud noise. “You get my call kid? Or were you too busy?” your face scrunched up and Wanda just moved away from you slightly.

“No, I was too busy passed out in the tub…-Did you know we have tubs?” Sam chuckled.

“Oh sure… busy in the tub” he winked and you could feel the smoke coming out of your head from trying to understand his words.

Tony beckoned Wanda over and whispered something in her ear before her face went red and she whispered something back. He then looked at you “you remember anything from last night? Beer pong?... Our little chat?” he said the last part very suspiciously. You shook your head and went to help Wanda make breakfast. Now though she seemed skittish being this close to you. What the hell was this about? She didn’t remember everything last night? Did she? You stopped moving and stood there just looking at her. Her hair was still messed up, her lipstick was smudged slightly, and she had on a large sweatshirt she stole from you a few months ago. You were transfixed on her, how could you not be? I mean she was one of the most perfect people you’ve ever met. You could talk for hours about how perfect she is, but you didn’t have hours because she landed a hand on your arm. “Y/N? You okay?”

You blinked a few times and came back from the space in your head. “Hm? Yeah no I’m fine” the two of you stood there with silence hanging over you like an umbrella in a rainstorm. Her hand didn’t leave your arm until you looked down at it. She took it away and your warmth seemed to diminish. “You -um -you wanna watch- uh-... nevermind I just remembered I have some reports to finish” the awkwardness that seemed to have adjusted to your shoulders. You felt the need to leave the situation as soon as possible. You grabbed a random fruit on the way out and took as big of a bite as you can. You mumbled a goodbye through a mouthful of apple.

- - -

There was no way that she wouldn’t tell you if she remembered, she wouldn’t have just pretended unless she didn’t feel the same. She probably didn’t feel the same. Sitting in the conference room alone with only a few pieces of paper you just stared directly at them. It looked like a toddler attempting to sort shapes. Your brain was not at all working on those reports and more focused on Wanda. “Fuck” the only word you had said in hours, you forgot the sound of your voice and just kept repeating random words. “Shit… rough… clam… parcel-”

“-Hey you okay?”

“AH FUCK!?....” you turned around after the outburst and saw the one person you hoped to avoid at the moment. “Heyyyyy… just finishing the reports” you pursed your lips and avoided eye contact with her. She leaned against the door frame and even though you were trying to avoided looking into her eyes you were still captivated by the rest of her. Giving in you finally looked into her eyes and you could see the concern that she had stored in them. “You okay?” you waited for her response with concern of her own. “...your head okay?” she smiled a beautiful small smile that fixed all the concern you had.

“It’s better…just wanted to ask if you were up for a little lunch?” she bit the inside of her cheek as she waited for your response. There was rarely ever a time that you declined time with her. You hadn’t even done it on missions, you made sure to call her whenever she needed it, you tried to figure out an excuse without seeming suspicious. Hurting her feelings also had to be taken into account, there wasn’t really a way out at the moment. Interrupting your thoughts she spoke up “it’s okay if you can’t… just wanted to hangout” you felt the guilt from last night and this morning begin to pile up. You hated doing this. You hated not being near her and you hated that you possibly ruined the best relationship you had on the team. No matter how much you wanted more from her.

“I- uh, I do have to finish these… I’m sorry-” you frowned as she cut you off.

“No, don’t worry. It’s fine, doesn’t matter I’ll just ask someone else”

That stung, you felt tears begin to rush towards your eyes. You declined one lunch and she’s already going to replace you. Maybe you weren’t as special to her as she was to you. “Maybe we can talk later?” you held your breath as you waited for an answer and she fiddled with her rings. She looked down at the floor and took in a deep breath. She mumbled something which you couldn’t quite catch. “Again, I’m sorry”

She waved it off and once again said its fine. You spun the chair back to the table and plopped your head down. Groaning to get rid of the guilt that was making its way to your heart. Shit. How would you fix this now? You’ve been avoiding her, acting weird, and she definitely can tell when you’re lying to her. Fuck man! Theres no way she isn’t worried or suspicious. You know exactly what you have to do. You have to man up and tell her the truth. You stood up and left the empty reports on the table and began your search for Wanda.

- - -

You walked around almost the entire compound and still have yet to find her, you decided to go to places you knew she wouldn’t go voluntarily. You entered Tony’s lab and were greeted by bruce who was sitting at a desk glued to a monitor. Looking around there was no sign of her until you reach Tony’s office door -wasn’t his actual office more of a glorified storage closet- and you overheard a small bit of their conversation.

“Can you just please give me his number?”

You could tell what Tonys’ face looked like just from his tone “mmmm… not until you tell me why you’ve changed your mind, was it because of a certain someone? Or a few too many drinks?”

“Fine. I had too many drinks last night and I said alot of things I didn’t mean, now can you please give me his number?” You felt your heart fold in on itself. You didn’t think she could have meant what she said but hearing the confirmation from the source itself hurt just as much as her saying it straight to your face. You felt your eyes begin to sting with tears and suddenly you heard Bruces voice call out to you. You froze in place and quickly looked back to the open door that led to the two. They were already to the door when you turned around to walk away. Again like last night you ignored the calls from Wanda to make you stop.

Walking down the hallway as fast as you can you came to a stop as you got to the two double doors of the training room. You went in and immediately got to punching the life out of the reinforced bag. Letting out the sadness and frustration you felt. You hit the bag over and over again. You felt your knuckles burn as you made contact. You didn’t hear the doors open and you didn’t hear the steps that made their way to you. It wasn’t until red covered the bag and stopped it in motion. You turned around with anger and were met with last person you wanted to see for a moment. The two of you stood there silent with tension as sharp as a blade. It only began to falter when your breathing began to flow down. Your mind returned to its pervious state and you let the hurt hit your face. You knew you were blame but you couldn’t help the pain that filled you.

“I remember last night…” tears threatened to fall from your eyes. “Do you?” She looked at you with sympathy and guilt. “Yeah…” this should have released some of the pain that you were holding in. “Did you mean what you said? -last night, that you don’t wanna be friends?” She took a step forward closer and you only stayed in place. You nodded your head, it felt like this was going in a direction that you had feared. “Yeah… did you mean what you said to Tony? Did you mean what you said last night?” tears slowly ran down your cheek. This time you took a step forward. “Do you really think I’d have better luck?” she nodded and you two became as close as you did the night before. You could feel her heartbeat with the close proximity, you felt her take your hand in hers.

“Do know what my type is?...” she leaned in and spoke softly “it’s you, and only you” She closed the distance between the two of you. You felt yourself lean in and you shared a tender and soft kiss. It was full of emotion and everything you wanted to say to her.

---

I hope you enjoyed it and I want you to know I put a lot of though into this and I do think it could be improved a lot and I hope someday I can do that for you!

Version 2

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melancholiania · 1 year

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antman x male reader coming soon. meanwhile, I’m considering a steven grant x male reader fic. choose.

#marvel x reader #marvel male reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant x reader

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havensins · 11 months

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surely a miguel riding reader please and THANK YOU YOU’RE A GOD SEND 👀👀

(tw slight feminization)

i can just see it now; you having a lap full of miguel, riding you as if he got paid for it. both of his hands would be close together on your chest as he cried out everytime he let himself drop back down.

your hands would find their way to his hips and his cock would drip precum down his shaft and onto your stomach as he got closer and closer to an orgasm.

“i can tell you’re getting close, princess.” you’d murmur, squeezing his waist. with how tight he was, you knew he wasn’t far from toppling over the edge. the way he clenched around you felt like pure heaven.

his eyes would blur with tears that soon fell, and after a while he’d have plump tears streaming down his cheeks as your cock punched moan after moan out of him.

“‘m gonna come, love, please let me? i’ve been good haven’t i? your g-good princess?” he rambles, voice raspy and cracked from misuse. you grinned, “go ahead then princess, you’ve been so good for me,” you praise, and he keens.

“fuck, yesss!” he whimpers, breathing harshly as his cock spurts ropes of cum over your and his stomaches. he slows down, and a guttural moan makes it way out of his throat as you thrust up into him.

“i still haven’t cum yet, k-keep going.”

he’d shudder, chewing on his lips and still obeying you. “yes sir,” he squeals, his second orgasm not far off as your cock repeatedly presses against his prostate.

#answered #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #avengers x reader #sub!miguel #sub!miguel o’hara #sub miguel #sub miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x male reader

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nouearth · 13 days

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let me in.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter struggles to balance between life and work, and it's ruining his relationship with you.

wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: andrew!peter, college au, established relationship, brief fighting, brief injury and blood mention (nosebleed), misunderstandings, peter reveals his identity, dry-humping, over the pants (or suit) handjob, body worshipping, lots of sweat, fingering, frotting, riding, spandex fetish, reader has a thing for peter in his spider-man suit!

You were starting to feel antsy. You could feel it—the nerves kicking in again. Anticipation—a suspension of doubt—made your hands clammy at first, but it was the time that made your hands clutch nothing but air. You rubbed the sweat off your hands onto your pants, your knees not so comforting with their pointedness.

Acceptance—when it was evident that Peter was late, again.

Birthdays have never been a big deal in your family. Sure, it was great that you had the privilege to live another year. To witness yourself grow older, to stand a few inches taller, to live a little more knowledgeable than yesterday. But growing up with parents who had to constantly work, well-late into the depths of night, it had never been more than a birthday wish that had greeted you in the mornings, and bid you slumber in the evenings. Since then, you knew not to expect anything.

If only Peter hadn’t made such a big deal out of it this year.

“Excuse me?” The familiar timbre of a voice speared your thoughts; deep and tunneling as you were transfixed on the glasses of water before you. Yours had been refilled, though a little sparse compared to Peter’s full cup.

Your eyes widened with feigned curiosity, a small smile plastered alongside to hopefully negate any annoyance from the waiter—because you expected what he was about to follow up with.

“Hey… uh,” he shifted on his feet awkwardly, eye bags weighing heavier than the last time he had checked up on you. You looked around, surprised by the amount of patrons who had filled the space around you while you were daydreaming. Laughter and smiles completely lit up the room. The dim lights were practically stationed in the restaurant for decoration, and seemingly to spotlight your ‘dinner for one’ status. “I’m sorry, but… we have no more tables to fill, and if you aren’t ordering soon, then we’ll have to give your table up for the next party...”

It was obvious that you weren’t, you hadn’t even torn into the buttery bread rolls that were piping hot forty-five minutes ago. Now, the fat had solidified into spotty, yellow clumps, though you doubt that would’ve been enough to detract from the quality of the rolls.

“Oh, I—“ You pulled out your phone to check your messages again. Nothing. Swiped down to refresh your conversation with Peter. The loading icon felt like it took forever, you half-expected that your phone was updating the thread with Peter’s messages that somehow got lost in the void of the restaurant’s spotty signal.

And nothing.

“I—yeah… uh. I-I’ll head out.” It was embarrassing. Even if the waiter had given you a sympathetic smile, you hated knowing that you wasted his time. You hated that you selfishly occupied a seat when someone else would’ve been done with dinner by the time you exited.

“Thanks—”

You hated that you had your hopes up for things to be different.

Again.

The night was dreary. Not even the wind had greeted you like the others when you stepped out. Soft and fluttering against your skin, but scolding enough to make you put your coat back on. Luckily, your apartment wasn’t too far from the restaurant, a fifteen minute walk at most if you speed-walked. Shoving your hands in your coat pockets, you then ambled along the sidewalks, wallowing in your feelings with a playlist that belted in your ears once you plugged your earbuds in.

You didn’t have the energy left to hurry home.

Once you crossed the last intersection, you felt a little bit more at ease. Seeing the familiar apartment complex at the end of the block picked your pace up a step more. You paused your music once you neared the entrance, just a turn away before you could finally bury yourself in your bed.

You reached into your pocket to grab your wallet. The weight in your palms instantly reminding you to deposit the cash tips sometime soon before the stretch of the leather had become unbearable to fit in your pocket.

Your walk slowed as your attention was fixated on your wallet, fumbling it open clumsily to retrieve your keycard. In midst, you caught a glimpse of a photo print of you and Peter, standing shoulder to shoulder with the biggest grins as Peter had a peace sign above your head, doubling as bunny ears. Honeymoon phase, they’d call it. Where you were beginning to discover more about Peter, and Peter was beginning to discover more about you. Likes. Dislikes. Hobbies. Memories. It felt like yesterday when you two were spending every second of your day with each other.

Now, it would be a miracle if Peter returned a call.

With the keycard in your hand, you turned the corner, and towards the entrance, the smiles from the photo print reflecting onto yours as you could vividly hear Peter’s pleas to retake them again. The flash of the cameras always made him blink.

If only you had been focusing on where you were going instead of the still image of the first memory between you and Peter, maybe you could have avoided the collision altogether when you approached the door. You suddenly found yourself on your back, facing the night sky as clusters of stars twinkled in laughter. There was a slight throbbing to your forehead, a mark you’d reckon would appear as purple within the next 12 hours despite the painless… pain.

“Oh god— I’m so, so, so, sorry! Let me—“ If the beating your face took to the door hadn’t snapped you back to reality already, the familiar face before you certainly pulled you out of your thoughts like whiplash once he helped you back onto your feet. Your vision instantly cleared of haze, as if his simple presence was your remedy.

“(M/N)?” Peter interrupted himself, his eyes widening. You could see the wheels turning in his head when the dim light spotlighted your features: eyes, nose, lips; flesh and bone that he was well-acquainted with.

“Peter—“ You took a moment to scan him. It was like all the other times he had been late. His fringe; stuck to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and water, the latter being a last resort to clean himself up. His knuckles; bruised and torn with minuscule cuts barely able to conceal the truth behind his scars. His necktie; clumsily done with the knots coming loose. Though, whether the silk unfurled by Peter’s own sloppiness, or by the increasing frailty of his fingers that had become susceptible by even the most delicate material of neckties; it was futile to mention it to him. You knew he’d shut you down with another excuse.

“W-what are you doing here? Are you okay? I-I’m so sorry—I was on my way to you and—Oh god, you’re bleeding!“ Breathless, panting, not only because he was panicking from running late.

But because of adrenaline. You could see it in his eyes. The alertness. The high.

“What—“ You wiped your nose with the back of your hand, only to see a smear of blood blotted across your skin. “Shit.”

Another thick drop splattered in greeting.

“Peter, it’s a nosebleed. You’re acting like I had my arm chopped off or something.” You’ve been applying pressure to your nasal bridge, pinching it tightly to barricade the stream of blood. All while you had your head tilted over Peter’s sink, in case of the blood leaking past your hold. “And how long does it take to find a cotton ball?”

“I’m trying—“ His one-sided game of hide and seek with the bag of cotton balls was leaning in favor of the latter. Medicine cabinet: empty. Bedside drawer: foreign coins and bills. You were watching him from the corner of your eye, a small limp to his step when the lightbulb seemingly lit up overhead and had him dashing towards the kitchen.

“Found it!”

Peter’s touch was delicate. Tender, like the forming bruise on your forehead. He was adamant on taking care of you, even if frankly—you would’ve done it much faster had it been a solo endeavor. Cotton balls were plugged up into your nose, and a warm face towel was laid across your forehead. If an intruder had the audacity to rob Peter’s apartment, you’d imagine you would find yourself lucking out. Peter joked that you looked like patient zero.

“All done. See? Nothing to cry about.” He was joking again, the smug smile across his face a clear indication of it—and the laugh that he couldn’t help but contain.

“Ha. Ha. Thanks, Dr. Parker. Now, how much do I owe you? I’m paying outta pocket.” For a brief moment, you forgot that you were upset earlier. All because of how nice it was to actually see him again. He pressed a kiss to your lips, a comforting gesture if his constant apologies weren’t enough. Stay focus.

“So, about dinner…”

“Oh,” Disappointment softened Peter’s smile. You could see it tightening, even as he was organizing his room. Though, it was really a matter of tossing his clothes on the floor back into the laundry basket. “Listen, my… bike got stolen and—“

“Peter…” You sighed, pinching your nose bridge because you feared another avalanche of a nosebleed incoming. That, and because it helped you maintained your composure. “You said that the last time. Three times, actually.”

“Third time’s… the charm?” He was joking. Again. But even he wasn’t laughing at it because he’d been cornered. Called out. Embarrassed that he thought that would even work on you. Embarrassed that he thought he could get away with it.

Again.

“Peter.” You called out, straightening your posture against the headboard of the bed when he sat at the end of the mattress. Shit, it’s happening.

“I… I don’t know how to…” The veins in his hands, they lined perfectly to the cuts, scrapes, and bruises on his knuckles. Clear as day now that he wasn’t hidden under a dim light. “I just…”

He had his hands around his face, rubbing his temples, his cheeks, his nose, anything that could alleviate the accelerating drill of his heartbeat.

You were hopeful to get an answer out of him. A proper explanation. But it pained you, knowing that in a few seconds—what he would tell you would only confirm your yearning suspicions of his strange behavior.

He doesn’t love you anymore. He’s cheating. You’ve become a nuisance, an absolute bore in his life. Actually, you’re a bad influence on him. You’re holding him back. He needs to let go of you to accomplish better things. He never loved you.

It’s happening. It’s fucking happening. All he has to do is say those words. The dreaded five words you’ve heard once from him in a nightmare.

I want to break up.

“If you want to break up, just say it.”

It sounded softer in your head, but the tears that had welled in your eyes finally bursted into droplets. They ran down your cheeks, and your voice broke during its pursuit.

Something commanded you to let those words slip out.

Maybe it was the ghost that you and him had been theorizing about since the night you’ve helped him move into the apartment floor above you. Carrie; you nicknamed her, and Peter would scold you for doing so because he had the suspicions that giving her a backstory would ultimately reassess his home as a possessing ground. To this day, he swore he saw a shadow looming in the corner of his room on a perfectly stormy night.

Or maybe it was the months of frustration that you had accumulated, snowballed because of your own selfish reasons to continue being with Peter for as long as you could, even if you saw the signs, because you couldn’t bear to see yourself without him. Live, when you two had promised so many futures together.

“What? No, (M/N), that’s not—“ He jolted up at the mere mention of separating from you. There was a chill. The room suddenly felt colder, and then warmer—scorching hot, when the glossiness of your gaze reflected into his. He began joining you by your side. “Hey, hey, I would never—“

He broke into a cold sweat. He’d never seen you like this. And to think that he was the root of this—of your pain—it was all overwhelming.

“Peter, there’s always something going on with you. Y-you don’t text me for days. You ignore my calls. You disappear without telling me. You’re always late. And… you’re always hurt? And you think that I’m dumb enough to not notice that you aren’t? How you’re limping? How you’re always bruised and—For god’s sake, Peter, I’m just as smart as you, we have the same GPA and—“ You took a breather, a gulp because you were rambling now. Your cheeks felt hot, from your sudden outburst and from embarrassment, because the latter half of your rant immediately negated the idea of some kind of affair.

“Okay, maybe you aren’t cheating, but—“ You felt him tug you into his arms, but you wouldn’t budge. Instead, you pushed away, edging to the other side of the bed to face him.

“I would never.” He sighed, his arms dropping as soon as you removed yourself from his embrace.

“Then what is it? You’re leaving me in the dark here. I barely see you anymore, you know that?”

“I know.” He was biting his lips. Chewing, as if he was internally debating something. A decision that could either ruin you, ruin him, or both.

“Then?”

You waited. Watched his fingers fiddle with one another as he continued turning the screws in his head. Your heart would jump whenever he would open his mouth, anticipating whatever had caused so much turmoil in his life, but there was a last minute decision that kept him silent.

Crickets.

Nothing.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re doing. But you’re getting hurt and I’m just… worried.” Your gaze dropped to his hands again. Pale, veiny, and full of life yet they’ve looked like they’ve been worn out. Torn. “At least tell me it’s not gambling.”

“Well—in a way with my life, it kind of is like gambling—“ He thinly smiled, hoping it would at least make you crack a smile.

“Peter!” You scoffed, nudged his side with your elbow out of frustration, then surrendered when you brought your knees up to your chest, and buried your head in between your knees. “Not funny.”

“Okay, okay, just… you can’t tell anyone.” His voice softened.

“We all know that between you and I, you’re the one with the running mouth.” Your voice muffled in the space between your legs, hands tucked around your nape.

“I’m serious, (M/N)” Pleading now, he held your hand in hopes to get ahold of your attention again, squeezing so you’d look at him. You do.

“I won’t tell.” It was a promise. Peter didn’t need you to clarify because he could see it in your eyes, honest and sincere. Determined, as if you were willing to protect him.

“Okay… and also, don’t… freak out.” Peter was off the bed now, wandering in the middle of his room as he rolled his shoulders back, relaxing the muscles in his back like a wrestler preparing for his next fight. He gestured for you to follow him out to the stairway, out into the cold.

“Why would I freak—“ There was something around his wrist. No, wrists. You thought they were watches, but there were two devices around him. They were strapped with a similar black leather to your wallet, to Peter’s, and a red button protruded in the middle of it. “Peter, what are you—“

You stopped a few feet before Peter, watching him closely, yet afar. Afraid, yet intrigued. Concerned, because he was on the ledge of the staircase now, perched like an animal. Yet there was a grin on his face. Not crazed like a madman considering he was acting like one, but foolish. Goofy, giddy like the times he’d hide stuff from you, and wait until you’d notice it was gone.

“Like I said, don’t freak out.”

“Peter, what are you even—“

With that, he opened his arms like wings that spanned across his back and flipped into the air as if the wind would carry him across city to city. As if he was recruited as a sponsor to the heavenly gods with the incredible height he’d taken off in, pursuing the clouds, the wind, the stars, and the night simultaneously all in multiple slings.

Into. The. Air.

Into the fucking air.

You raced forward with a yelp, as if you would’ve made it in time to catch him. To catch his hand before he fell. To hold him one last time before he’d land on the ground and shatter every bone in his body.

If he had landed.

No, you blinked once—twice—no, at least in the double digits because this was all a dream. It was all a dream, right? That you caught a glimpse of Peter somehow slingshotting himself from window to window, from rooftop to satellite, like it was a mundane day job one had to endure to put food on the table, to pay the bills.

Right?

You paced around the stairs, raced towards one floor to another, bending over the railings because—Peter disappeared. He was gone. If he had smashed into something, you would’ve heard him. You would’ve heard him in yelp in pain. You would’ve heard the metal railings shake. You would’ve heard him cry for help.

Instead, you heard the sound of wind. Whistling as it sailed leaves to the west of you.

As if it carried a hint along the way.

“Peter?! Peter—Fuck, fuck!” You followed the sound of the whistle. The source of the pitchy sound. Fluttering when your head spun closer to the note, wavering when you were getting colder, then peaking when your gaze lifted, higher, and higher, until it landed on him.

Peter.

Peter, perched over the rooftop of the apartment complex like a bug. The moonlight framed his silhouette, emphasized the texture of his suit; protruding grids that encased him like a nest; and you’ve never been more intimidated.

Red and blue spandex tightly-fitted over the muscles and body of the man you have been more than well-acquainted with. You’ve seen it before. It was familiar. On the news, on the papers, on the internet.

“You’re freaking out!” He yelled out, clearly amused in your frozen state of shock.

He peered over at you with a smug grin, aimed directly at your bafflement before pulling a mask over his head. It was the icing on top in rendering you utterly incapable of stringing up any words. The lens of his mask reflected off of you, mirrored your astonishment in clear display, and you sensed that would be a memory Peter would be carrying to his death bed.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Okay, so, just to clarify,” You were winded, still recovering from the heart attack Peter had nearly given you after he took you on for a stroll in the night. Into the sky.

Luckily his bed was right beside you. As soon as your legs gave out, you fell back into his mattress, and stared into the ceiling, speechless. Peter joined you after, bringing you into his arms. He’d always been aware that touching you in any way or form brought you back to reality. “You are… not a cosplayer?”

“Honestly? That would make me way more money than what I’m making right now.” You couldn’t keep your hands or eyes off of him. Peter was still in his suit, and that gave you the perfect opportunity to run your hands over the webbed texture of the spandex.

“Just a few more months until my lease is up. I can move in, and that’ll help with the rent. For both of us.” It felt like silicone, or rubber. Whatever it was, it was durable considering how thin it felt in your fingers when you rubbed it in between them.

“Just like that? You’re not mad?” Your hands came to a halt when Peter suddenly took them, and rested your palm on his cheek, coincidentally on the cut that you’ve never noticed.

“Why would I be mad?” Quieter. Your voice mellowed into a whisper as you catalogued the amount of beatings his skin had taken. Caressed the marks you were too selfish to notice. Exhaustion wore on his face, and yet he never looked so peaceful as he gazed into your eyes.

Pretty eyes, Peter thought. Ones that could motivate him to get back up after falling. That feels nice, when you pressed a kiss to his damaged skin. A touch that made him believe there was a reason to suffer, to be great, to be all of this.

“Well, for starters, it’s your birthday and… I completely blew it.” Peter closed his eyes when you began brushing his hair back, knotted in cold sweats, but you fanned your fingers out to undo them until they felt somewhat tidy in your strokes. Smooth and soft. He sighed, “Again.”

“Can’t entirely blame you. How would I look if I were to complain about missing you, when you’re out there risking your life for everyone?” It wasn’t a question, but you wanted him to look at you. To respond. And he does, when you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, and he returned it with a silken one, a following grin. “All I wish for was that you told me sooner, I guess.”

“Yeah,” He figured he’d save the details of the ‘friends’ he had made along the way some other time. For now, it was all about you. “Wow, you’re not even going to wish for me to be safe?”

“Hey, you know what I mean! That’s a given.” You rubbed at his chest, finding yourself quickly accustomed to the scales of his costume. The red was striking against your palms, comforting almost.

“Still. I want to hear you say it.” Peter rolled onto his side and slipped an arm under your back, scooting closer to you. His signature goofy grin never failed to knock a similar one out of you. And unwillingly drawn out, when he began pinching at your sides in quick snips.

“Stop—“ You laughed, your hands occupying themselves to defend your body from his quick attacks. But Peter was fast, avoiding your arms and hands to find another opening that you’d abandon. “Stop, stop! Stay safe! Happy?!”

Closer and closer, you found yourself beneath him, framed by his body as he took your arms above your head and pinned them secured with his tight grasps.“Incredibly.”

Your legs spread open to make room for his body, only for Peter to wrap them around his waist, to press his body into you, kissing you like he was driven to steal your breath.

“This your way of making it up to me?” You broke apart from the kiss, only briefly, before the taste of Peter, the softness of his lips reeled you back in for another kiss. Languidly paced until one’s accelerating lust for one another had taken ahold of the wheel and shifted gears, into a weightiness that kept your mouth parted open while Peter’s impulse to explore you had become evidently clear.

“Problem with that?” He’d been driving his hips into you, grinding his front with your own. Both clothed, infuriatingly covered, but the pressure in between your bulge and Peter’s was too pleasing to ignore. Too satisfying to make him stop. “I should take this off—“

“No, wait—“ You grabbed his forearm when he reached back to unzip his suit. To be honest, you never thought about how he even got in or out of the suit in the first place, but that was beside the point. Something about this suit, this costume, whatever you wanted to call it; it was a turn-on.

The way it fit snug against Peter’s body; how every fiber of muscle was stretching the material to its limit. Maybe you were just turned on because you associated it with him being a hero. For god’s sake, that was as much of an aphrodisiac one could be if you happened to be saved from a falling tower.

Or maybe, it was simply how Peter looked in it. Unabashedly handsome, yet himself, seemingly courting you further into his webs, as if he hadn’t already from day one.

“Keep it on. I like it.” You muttered, fiddling with the collar of his suit. It was snapped on tight, but you managed to slip a finger or two past, to pull at it with a stretch.

“Then how are we going to…” He abandoned the few inches he had unzipped, providing a small relief to the squeeze around his body while his broad back was bare and tense towards the ceiling.

“Then, you’ll take it off. But for now, I just want to…” One hand was on his nape, pulling him down for another heated kiss, while the other traveled south between your body and his. Further, lower, until you cupped him at his crotch. Rubbing, squeezing, and palming at the thick, growing center. “Want to try something…”

You could feel him smiling, a crooked one flattened against your own grin when he whispered, “I should’ve told you sooner, shouldn’t I.”

“You think?”

You were getting harder, your pants beginning to tighten around the center as you palmed him. It was a heavy handful in the beginning, but Peter’s bulge began to unfurl. It didn’t take long, didn’t take much of a stroke for him to unravel from his tuck and thicken into a full-blown erection towards the left side of his thigh. It pointed downwards, the plump head evident through his suit, and you were beginning to drool in Peter’s mouth at the haziest image of it.

“Come on, I need to get out of this… It’s killing me.” It wasn’t like Peter to beg. It was charming, cute, sexy, all the synonyms that could describe how you felt all day and every day about him, and you squeezed, because he wasn’t being patient with you.

“Birthday boy gets what he wants, don’t you think?” He winched into your mouth, and you swallowed him. Swallowed every ounce of breath, and breathed it back out with a kiss. Sloppy, heavy, your tongue weighing on his because you wanted to keep his lips apart, mouth open to hear his moans.

Peter grunted again once you began stroking his cock, touching him like it was a delicate plate of chin. Fingertips only, dusting him off with little pressure so he wouldn’t shatter.

“What are you going to do about it, hm?” You continued your short, limp strokes. “Just going to take it? Hm?” Your wrist was weak, lazy as it became limp to tease him even more. Peter sucked in a breath, doing his best to maintain his composure, but it was all futile, all those attempts of sucking in his lip to chew, to hold back his moans, because you’d slap his clothed cock, grasp it tight in your hand, and massage as much as you could gather.

“Fuck, baby—“ You had him under your control. Even if his hands were free, you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you. He knew that if he did, you’d stop touching him, stop stimulating the blood running down every vein of his cock, fueling his erection. His desires.

He couldn’t let that happen. Not after the day, the week, the months that he’d been having.

You and Peter eventually switched places: Peter resting on his back while you sat in between his legs, marveling at the stretch of his suit. Somehow, his cock looked bigger than you’d remember. Squished and pressed flush against his thigh like this. The suit was like a magnet, inviting your hand back to his cock and refusing to let you go.

“Just relax.” You commanded him. He was watching you slouched up against the headboard, gravity weighing his eyelids lower. With his legs spread apart, he provided you excess space as you began massaging his right thigh with your free hand. “Is this okay?”

“Mm-hm...” He knew you were talking about the pressure on his thigh, but the strokes over his cock remained supreme in his mind. Championed through as you pressed harder into the shaft, massaging tenderly from vein to vein. The protruding webbed texture of his suit pressed into him, rolled against cock like the inside of a fleshlight, ultimately adding onto the already gratifying pleasure.

It was glorious.

“More…” Peter gritted through his teeth, a selfish need for more escaping from his lips in huffs. Grunts, when you’d fulfill his wish with two hands now, kneading his cock like dough.

Thick, stiff, throbbing dough.

Before the complaints could come pouring in, you shimmied your pants off in a hurry, tossing it in the corner before greedily climbing onto Peter’s lap. It was like he read your mind, perhaps another secret that he’d been hiding, because he immediately took you into his arms. An embrace, a tight one that grounded you against his bulge, pressing your body weight until it restricted the blood flowing into his erection, as well as preventing an escape.

“You’re so hard…” You marveled at how rigid he’d gotten under you, grinding your ass against the large mass, beating and throbbing with every rut.

“I’m so hard.” He confirmed, complained, and bragged all in one smile. He then took you by the nape to kiss you again. Hard on the mouth, slow with his tongue to taste you and your desires, his desires. His other hand rested on the small of your back, guiding your grinds at first before his fingers looped into your waistband, tugging once before stuffing the strap under your ass cheeks. Your hard-on was the only thing keeping the cotton material from slipping off while you continued grating your hips. “Just like that…”

To make it easier for you, Peter repositioned his erection so it was facing north, towards his navel, in its sublime mass. Your briefs had been tossed to the side now, completely bare bottomed against him while you mounted over him, and rode in needy strides. It was a sight to behold, something that Peter reckoned he should savor. He folded his arms behind his head, providing a self-made cushion for the weight of it, and watched you. It was entrancing, like a dance. You swiveled your hips to a ghosting rhythm, one that could only be heard between two hearts, two parties, between the two of you, man to man.

“Like this…?” Breathless, you unbuttoned your shirt open, but left it present on your body. Sweat formed over your neck, dribbled down to your bare and exposed chest; it was practically an open-invitation for Peter to ravish you. And so he did, with a haunting groan as he held you, contained you in the warmth of his arms as he simultaneously pulled you forward, and pushed himself off the headboard to meet you in the middle.

He kissed you on the neck, achingly hard when he sucked, and then enthralling, sweat-inducing when he bit into your skin. He couldn’t contain himself. You tasted too good, and it’d been too long since he had you just like this. “Just like that. Your cock against my cock, fuck. I love it so fucking much.” He muttered hot against your neck, panting because he was sweating too. The spandex felt tighter on his skin, constricting against him with every drop of sweat.

“Oh, fuck…” His lips had latched onto your nipples now. Peter’s tongue worked magic on your two nubs, flicking and swirling over their perkiness until you felt swollen. Raw, when he bit, pulled, bit, and bit again. You buried your face into his hair, rocking yourself back and forth with your arms holding him close to your chest, gliding your cock against his print as if a gun was pointed to your head, like your life depended on making Peter come.

You were delirious, humping Peter without a single thought other than to get him off, and you’d reckon that was the goal lingering in Peter’s head as he began rocking back into you. It took a while for him to find your rhythm, chasing after it in slower, sluggish beats, but eventually he caught up to you, snapping his hips against your own, grinding his cock against yours like two crescent moons caressing the other’s curvature.

“Close…” He muttered into your shoulder. Your shirt was hanging off, exposing more of your skin, but Peter made sure you didn’t feel a single chill with the marks he had followed up with soon after. It was like he had done it on purpose. Made you feel safe in his arms, comfortable in the warmth of his body, worshiped with the amount of care he had given your body. Frozen, when you felt something prod at your pucker. Then enraptured, when Peter pushed a wet finger inside of you.

Tremors, chilling tremors ran down your spine as you took the single digit Inside of you with one determined push. “Fuck—“ Your back arched, chest pushed forward towards him, and your hips jolted forward in one strong, and delicious swipe against Peter’s cock. “Peter…”

It was a mouthwatering display of food before him. The perky nubs on your chest, the veins in your neck, the mole on your body, the strain of your thighs on overdrive, the swollen head of your cock; Peter didn’t know what to lay his finger on first, what to mouth on, what to kiss, and suck, and latch onto until you’d scream. Whichever it was, he knew you were desperate for him. Begging, sweating, whimpering, for Peter to lay a finger on you. Another finger inside of you now, and you rolled your eyes at the stretch he was providing you with, a fulfilling wish that startled your hips once more.

“You’re so good, so good for me…” Peter was staring up at you, marveling at the layer of sweat on your body. It glistened with every movement, dripped heavily with every thrust of Peter’s fingers, and tasted just like how he remembered. Salty when he licked up your neck, up your chest, against your nipples, and repeated. Your body was his, and Peter was determined to let the world know. Determined to remind you in case that you’d forgotten.

Your hands were wandering. Grabbing and touching at anything and everything that could linger in between your fingers. Peter’s hair, his head, shoulders, chest, your cock and his, his back. Everything. You couldn’t keep your hands off of him. Even if he was covered from head to toe, you were touching him. Because he was yours.

“Gonna come—“ You cupped Peter’s jaw to straighten his posture, to kiss him sloppily on the mouth, and he pulled his fingers out of you, resting them on either side of your hips as he joined you once again in grinding hips. The pleasure was overbearing, drilling into each individual brain until the smallest movement would render you both speechless. Panting in slurred moans of each other’s names, of profanities that you two had rarely used in your lifetime on earth.

“Me too…” Peter pushed himself on top of you now. Your arms were tied around his neck, tighter than the necktie he had on prior, and your legs; they wrapped around his waist equally secured, if not even tighter, as he thrusted against you.

You were too distracted, unable to respond to Peter’s constant licks in your mouth. He was desperate for you, suckling on your tongue and chasing after it once it slipped out because of your moans. They were rattling, each breath immediately vaulted in the back of Peter’s throat because he couldn’t part from you. Couldn’t imagine a life where he would. And if he had to, at least he’d have a part of you inside of him. Even if it was a whisper.

He thrusted harder, panting into your mouth, his nose practically smushed flat against yours. He wondered if you could imagine that life, a life without him.

“P-Pete—Shit, I’m—“ Your fingers dug into his nape, grounding him impossibly closer to you when that feeling had suddenly come to stun you in place.

It simmered hard in your stomach, then to a rolling boil as it traveled lower to your pelvis. You squeezed your stomach, clenched your toes, and your eyes widened when Peter’s hips showed no signs of faltering. Your cock swelled and your balls jolted, tightened, until you finally saw stars bursting into flames and let gravity have it come crashing down on you. Shivers had you enclose your arms around Peter, holding onto him tight as you felt yourself crumble and spill all over your chest and his suit. You came with a gritted grunt of his name, sinking your nails into his nape because you had nowhere else to channel your spasms as Peter kept rocking against you, drunkenly astonished by how you came for him. By how much you needed him.

It didn’t take long before Peter came right after. He buried his head into your neck, stifling moans into the heat of your neck, clammy with sweat, yet comforting as he filled the inside of his suit with thick, large loads. You felt his cock throb against you when you reached down to help, to ride out his orgasm to the fullest. His cock pulsed as you’d imagine several thick pumps of his load would gush out and uncomfortably layer his navel. If only his suit hadn’t been waterproof, because there was no doubt that he would’ve been leaking out of it by now.

You’ve never been so jealous of spandex.

He was hot in your ear, panting, breathing you in, then breathing you out as you slowed the strokes on his softening cock. Then a sudden inhale, a jolt of his body, when you squeezed hard, to seal the deal in covering the entirety of his cock in his own cum. It was filthy. It was shameless. It was Peter.

“Driving me crazy here…” Peter sluggishly lifted himself off of you to face you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as you kept kneading at his cock, increasingly sensitive with every second.

“Not enough to drive you away, right?” You smiled, drowsy yourself as you quickly found your high coming to a crash. Though, you mustered enough strength to hold Peter’s cheek in your palm, tenderly caressing, to which he immediately kissed as soon as it reintroduced itself.

Peter sighed, holding your gaze for what felt like minutes, and yet you wished it could be for longer.

It was different this time, the way he looked at you. The same amount of love and warmth, yes. But they no longer wavered, no longer tried to find something else to look at in case you were prying about.

“Never.”

Instead, they stilled, relaxed the longer you stared into him, into those brown eyes of his, because you were in now.

You were finally in his life.

How much you needed him? His question had been answered.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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