#me just going on about peters muscles
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Side Effect
Summary: Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Feral Miguel. Rutting Miguel (side effect of the serum he takes). HEAVY breeding kink. Creampie. Fangs. Hormonal manipulation (mention of serums being injected).
You paced hurriedly through the long corridors of HQ determined to get an answer.
A proper one.
If Miguel O’Hara was growing tired of your casual relationship with him, he’d have to tell that to your face instead of avoiding you.
This had been going on for a couple of days, and you patience was now hanging by a thread. You had tried to reach him through your watch, but he’d either ignore you, or have Lyla come up with ridiculous excuses.
“Visiting Peter and MJ my ass,” you grumbled under you breath, your paces echoing loudly.
The moment you were met with the lab door shut, you stopped dead in your tracks.
That was weird.
“What?”
Approaching the scanner on the wall, you reached out your arm, allowing the sensor to read your dimensional travel watch.
<ACCESS DENIED>
That was really weird.
You flicked your wrist again, but were met with the same message.
This had to be Miguel’s poor idea of a joke, because it made no sense that he’d restrict your access to the very place you worked at.
Letting out a strained breath, you tapped on your watch, hoping to reach Miguel.
But it was Lyla’s orange hologram that emerged instead.
“What’s up, sugar?” she beamed happily, filing her nails.
You scowled. “I was calling Miguel.”
“He has redirected every contact to me,” she shrugged, checking each nail individually.
You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Why can’t I get in?”
“That’s classified.”
“Classified?”
She nodded with an obnoxious smile that only served to grind your nerves. “I work here.”
“So does Miguel and he is working now,” she said with another shrug.
Anger flared inside you as your worst fears were confirmed.
He was avoiding you in particular.
“Can you just open the door?”
“No.”
“Please?”
Her eyes narrowed behind her heart-shapped glasses. “No.”
“I really need to talk to him.”
Adjusting her long coat, she clicked her tongue. “I can pass him a message.”
That wasn’t good enough and he would just ignore it as usual.
“Lyla…” you started, putting on your most convincing fake smile with an equally forced sweet voice to match. “You know I’ve always like you, right?”
The AI scoffed. “Nah, flattery doesn’t work on me, sugar. It wasn’t programmed into my coding,” she grinned deviously. “But you’re free to suggest that Miguel adds it in a future patch.”
You shot her a death glare. “Fine. Just… tell him I’m here and… yeah…” your voice trailed off.
She winked. “Gotcha!”
The hologram disappeared at once and you were left staring at the large metal door in front of you.
You waited for a couple of minutes, before realising she wasn’t coming back with an answer, as you had expected.
A random thought crossed your mind when your eyes landed on the scanner, reminding you that there was another way in.
Miguel would probably get really angry that you were about to activate the emergency protocol, but you couldn’t care less at this point.
Tapping the pattern onto the pad above the scanner, you couldn’t help but to feel victorious as the door swung open, alarms blaring and a mechanical voice echoing through the lab.
“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”
You only made it a few steps past the door, before something — or rather someone — flung you across the room with the weight of their body keeping you pinned against a wall.
A muscled forearm was at your throat, effectively caging you in.
“What the fuck?”
“Emergency protocol activated. Proceed with caution.”
The red alarm lights rotated hurriedly on the ceiling, but you were able to identify Miguel, as his weight dug further into you.
“What are you doing here?” he growled, the eyes on his mask narrowing menacingly.
Something wasn’t right.
Your spider senses detected an alarming accelerated heart rate from him, as well as increased body temperature.
“Miguel, let go! It’s me,” you grunted, clawing at his arm to alleviate the pressure.
“I know it’s you,” he said lowly, the digital mask vanishing.
From the corner of your eyes you saw him baring his fangs, droplets of paralysing poison dripping.
His pupils were fully blown and you felt fear rise inside you. “What are you doing?!”
As if your voice had managed to snap him out of it, he eased the pressure on you and took a few steps back.
“Lyla, deactivate the emergency protocol and resume the serum synthesis.”
“Got it, Miguel!”
The alarm was turned off immediately and silence took place.
Your breath was coming out in shallow pants, as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.
Was he that angry that he had gone completely feral?
“Miguel… what…”
He turned his back on you and paced to a nearby centrifuge, the screen atop announcing: <DNA stabilising sequence at 24%>
What was he doing?
“Leave.”
“Can we just talk?” you said, still keeping your distance. “I don’t know why you’re avoiding me, but barring my access-“
Miguel turned around to face you, a deep scowl had settled on his face, twisting his lips.
The glare he gave you was enough to send shivers down your spine.
“I need you gone. Now.”
Fuck. Was he that over you that he couldn’t even stand your presence around?
He had shortened the distance between you two, crimson eyes never leaving yours.
“Why? If you don’t want to be with me just say that,” you groaned in frustration. “Don’t stare at me like you’re about to split me in half. It won’t work.”
Miguel had effectively managed to have your back hit the nearby wall once more, just from the weight of his stare alone.
“I told you to leave. I can’t have you around me.”
“Oh, great!” you scoffed. “Thanks for being so direct.”
Miguel didn’t stop moving until his face was only a few inches away from yours. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re right. I don’t. We’re both adults, so you could have just said this a couple of days ago instead of acting like I’m some nuisance.”
His hand came to grip your jaw and you widened your eyes. “You’re on birth control, right?”
“What…”
He took a deep breath, fangs grazing his lower lip. “Answer me.”
“Yes. Of course.”
Wait… was he scared that he might have knocked you up?
His fingers loosened and he pressed his forehead to the wall right beside your head, groaning out loud.
“Miguel… what is going on?”
You wanted to him a comfort squeeze on his arm, but were too frozen to move.
“Why… why do you have to be on birth control?”
Was he pulling your leg? Was this his twisted version of a joke?
This time, you frowned. “What do you mean why? I don’t want to get unexpectedly pregnant.”
Miguel punched the wall with such force it dented the material and making you jolt.
“I’m rutting.”
Your eyes darted to his face as he straightened up, pupils still dilated and beads of sweat rolling down his temples.
“What… rutting?” you asked, mouth dropping open in confusion.
He growled impatiently. “Side effect of my serum. I usually have an antidote at hand when this happens, but I ran out of one of the components…” he paused briefly as if struggling to breath properly. “I had to go to Peter B’s Earth to get more.”
Oh. So that hadn’t been one of Lyla’s ridiculous lies.
You glanced over at the nearby screen:
<DNA stabilising sequence at 34%>
Oh.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before?” you asked, wanting to bring him some comfort somehow. “We’ve been together for a few months.”
“It was never necessary. I always had the neutraliser for my serum at hand.”
You bit your lip.
He let out a low dark chuckle. “You have no idea how badly I’ve been wanting to breed you.”
This definitely wasn’t something you were expecting to hear from Miguel O’hara himself, and it made your heart skip a beat.
His arms were caging you, his talons digging deep into the metal right next to your head.
“Is… huh… is there anything I can do?” you asked in a whisper. “I mean… in the lab.”
He pressed his lower half into you at once. “Let me breed you.”
You flinched as his hard cock dug into your crotch and you let out a gasp.
“Can’t you just wait for the synthesis to be over?”
The sound of the metal being shredded tore through your ears and his lips nearly brushed yours. “I told you to leave, but you’re too stubborn, aren’t you?”
His breath was hot and you felt goosebumps rise throughout your body.
“Always running that mouth,” he growled, eyes landing on your lips. “Always defying me… and now I really, really need to breed you.”
For some twisted reason, his words and cock twitching against you were slowly swallowing your mind, causing you to abandon reason.
Miguel was a very dedicated lover, but you had never witnessed such yearning from him.
That was a novelty and it was doing wonders to your ego.
Even if there was a scientific explanation, you could help but plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “You can’t breed me… I’m on birth control.”
His hand came to grip your chin again and you saw anger flicker in his eyes. “There’s ways around that.”
Your eyes widened.
He wasn’t being serious…
… was he?
“Miguel…”
The grip tightened and he rolled his hips. “Let me. Please.”
You knew exactly what he was talking about. He had developed a serum that would neutralise all hormonal manipulation as a way to reset your body in case a spider needed to be injected with a serum.
You had helped him develop it.
Its efficacy neared 90%.
You guessed this neutraliser wasn’t able to prevent the side effects from his very specific serum.
And now he wanted to use it on you, so he could successfully breed you.
“Are you sure?” you asked, not sure why agreeing to this in the first place was sending such an adrenaline rush through your veins.
Miguel moved away from you, bolting to one of the desks, rummaging through the drawers.
You swallowed hard, but remained glued to the wall, heart hammering fast in your chest.
<DNA stabilising sequence at 41%>
In a blink of an eye, he was on you again, holding the syringe in his trembling hand. “I’m desperate, but I need your words first.”
You clenched and felt wetness spilling from you.
How was this so arousing?
“What words?”
He moved to place a quivering kiss to your forehead and you saw the liquid wobble inside the container.
“That’s… not the compound we synthesised.”
“It’s more than that,” he said with another kiss. “It stimulates your ovaries.”
Oh… fuck.
He trailed kisses down your face, before pecking your lips. “I have to breed you. Successfully.”
Your legs nearly gave out at his confession and you nearly moaned as he ripped your suit to gain access to your bicep.
“Tell me I can do this.”
His cock was nudging you again as a reminder of his desire, and you nodded.
“No. Say it.”
He was rubbing your skin with his thumb right where he intended to inject the serum.
“Go ahead.”
“Gracias,” he whispered, planting another kiss to your forehead.
At this point, you were far too drunk in lust to think clearly and your lips parted in a pained moaned as you felt a sharp jab in your arm. He kept his lips on you as reassurance, as the liquid tore through your muscle.
Your heartbeat skyrocketed straight away.
You felt your knees buckle under you, but Miguel steadied you with both arms. “I got you.”
A gasp quickly turned into a moan as the effect of the serum consumed you with each passing second.
He trailed his hands down your body and gripped your hips.
“Turn around.”
You let him guide you, biting down hard on your lower lip, you panties sticking to your soaked folds.
More ripping sounds filled the air as Miguel tried to get rid of your suit, exposing your underwear to him.
You balled your fists and felt one hand on your lower back, adding light pressure. “Bend over.”
Doing as commanded, you felt more wetness spill from you as your body readied itself for Miguel.
The pressure increased. “More.”
Your panties were torn apart right away and you glanced over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Miguel’s fangs peeking through his lips.
His thumb dragged along your folds, teasing your swollen clit and earning a whimper from you.
“Sorry, but I really need to be inside you,” he grumbled and you nodded.
Your heart skipped several beats, as you tried to control your breathing in anticipation.
The tip of his cock was soon pressed against your opening, and you squeezed your eyes shut.
“I’m sorry.”
Before you could inquire what he meant, your mouth fell open as he rammed inside you, bottoming out at once.
He didn’t wait for your to recover from the initial shock, and began pumping into you so ferociously, you had to grab a hold on the metal railing to your right to keep yourself from losing balance.
Miguel heaved a heavy sigh of relief as if he had been waiting a lifetime for this sensation.
Grunts and groans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy engulfing his cock over and over again.
“Should have bred you sooner…” he managed to say in between snaps of his hips. “Developed that serum just for you…”
Miguel’s idea of dirty talk was effective. Too effective, because you couldn’t hold back from clenching hard around him, savoring the friction and feel of being stuffed full of him.
He picked up the pace and you thought you were going to die.
Not because it was uncomfortable, but because it was too overwhelming, and your body was responding to his in a way you had never experienced before.
You felt your lower abdomen coil at the sides and figured the serum had reached its target destination.
Miguel gripped both your arms and you let go of the railing, as he tugged hard to have your back smack against his hard chest.
“You’re so lucky this rut didn’t hit me harder,” he growled, hips never faltering. “I was barely able to control myself around you…”
Your eyes fluttered shut and you moaned loudly, feeling his pectoral muscles press into your back. This man was too hot and you found yourself thinking that not being bred by him would be a waste.
That genetic material deserved to be spread.
“Being on birth control with me…” he said through gritted teeth, and you felt his fangs nipping your ear lightly. “You. Deserve. To. Be. Bred.” he punctuated each word with a snap of his hips.
An intense wave of pleasure pulsated from your clit, and you recognised the familiar strings of an orgasm pulling you in and embracing you gentle with each stroke.
“Miguel…” you moaned, blinded by lust and desire.
The grip on your arms loosened briefly and he let your torso lean forward ever so slightly, angling your hips in a way that made him his cock hit you over and over again just where you needed the most.
“I want you full with my babies,” he gasped.
Your orgasm hit you with such force, you thought you were going to collapse and slide off his cock, but he wrapped one arm around you, not allowing you to part from him.
“You feel so good… tighter… tighter,” he urged, as your walls contracted around him rhythmically, faintly at first, but the next stronger than the one before.
You were far too gone to form any words and just let your lips part as an intense moan ripped through your throat.
Miguel was mumbling something behind you, but you couldn’t make out any words as you descended from your height.
Even through quivering legs and pulsing clit, you were able to feel it.
He was now pumping you full with broken snaps of his hips.
You glanced down and saw strings of cum dripping from where he was connected with you.
So much cum.
He wasn’t even slowing down, as he’d usually do at this stage.
Miguel kept on ramming into you from behind, sending more and more cum to drip from within you.
An animalistic growl left his mouth as he finally came to a halt, breathing hard.
He remained balls deep inside you, and you planted on hand on the wall to look in absolute awe at the cum dripping and dangling from your clit, a pool of it now at your feet.
“How did you cum so much?” you managed to say in between laboured breaths.
“I’m rutting, cariño. My body produces more,” he said, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck.
You glanced to the screen nearby.
<DNA stabilising sequence at 100%>
“Maybe you can take the neutraliser now?
He slid his cock out of you halfway, before slamming it back, and you felt more cum spill out. “I don’t think so.”
Oh, you were utterly fucked.
In every sense of the word.
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#spiderman 2099
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Aphrodesiacs
Miguel O’Hara x fem! spidey! reader
yk that bit of spiderman lore between silk and peter where they were bitten by the same spider and can’t be near each other without feeling….
yeah this is that but with Miguel. SO NSFW. i love blue balling y’all. PART 2 IS UP NOW!
There were certain things that were absolutely not up for discussion when it came to Miguel: his leadership skills, his authority, his ability to lead this society, his daughter and…you.
There were too many issues to discuss about your strange…he didn’t even know what to call it at this point. See, you were both bitten by the same spider which everyone deemed highly impossible, but it happened. What came with being bit by the same spider were chemically and biologically bound side effects no one knew the first thing about. You and Miguel were more enhanced than the others, in many ways, many uncomfortable and impossibly distracting ways. You were physically drawn to each other, unable to physically feel anything but an intense primal, primitive and animalistic sexual attraction to one another. Neither of you could be in the same room without wanting to fuck like bunnies. The chemical compounds in your brains were the same, and it made you both become aphrodesiacs for each other. No one knew about it other than Lyla and Jess.
This was a problem, he was your boss and you couldn’t actually look at him without feeling hot and wet, you had fangs the same way he did but no one knew about it, Lyla made sure of it. Miguel on the other hand was a wreck because of it, his blood would burn at the mere thought of you. He worked his body out to the bone, he would work out and sweat the thoughts and desires away from him. It never worked. But he needed to pretend it did. Neither of you would anticipate how drastic it could be. You knew it was the genetics and the chemicals from the same spider that bit you which made you weary of ever getting close to one another but Lord, the desires were still there. It felt like you were muzzled and on a leash, hindered by moral righteousness. You both knew you couldn’t give in but that was rather difficult when you actually needed to see one another.
You ripped a hole in your suit, where your waist was and only Miguel seemed to have the supplies to fix it. A massive horizontal gash that exposed your skin. Your brain was dreading to see him, your heart said otherwise and your pussy throbbed at the mere idea. It was like you were magnets, constantly avoiding due to the the impossibility to be pulled apart. Taking a deep breath to keep a cool calm head seemed to work momentarily and then you walked into his lair.
Miguel could smell you from here. His skin tightened and his muscles tensed when he felt your scent wrap around him, like a warm golden glow. He would taint you in red. He would break you. He knew this. That’s why he could never….
“You know you can’t be here.” He sighed, ignoring your presence as he was staring blankly at his screens. “You know I can’t concentrate.” He added quietly.
You swallowed thickly and closed your eyes, wincing slightly. “I know we’re not- Look, I just need you to fix my suit and Lyla told me I had to fix it immediately or the wiring would go to shit. You know I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t need to.”
Miguel paused and blinked slightly at the last thing you said. You did need to see him. You did need to be here but neither of you wanted to talk about the true reason. He turned his head to face you. He wanted to groan at the sight of you.
Miguel had to force himself not to stare at your body and the way your suit clung to it, there was a massive gash in it that exposed the skin of your waist. Why did God always have to test his patience? Lord above give him strength. Even with his impeccable self control and strength, it took everything in his power to resist the urge to throw you against the floor and...Miguel groaned softly and rolled his eyes. “If that's what it takes...”
“I know you want to get rid of me quickly. I promise it won’t take long.” You say hurriedly as you hop onto his platform. You were really close to each other now, You swallowed and your breathing became slightly more shallow. Please let this be quick. Please. You begged silently. “I just need you too stitch my suit on my waist for me.” You say. “Quickly…” You added breathily. You had to get closer for him to actually help you and as he sat in his chair and pulled out his supplies, he raised an eyebrow to lure you closer. He felt his body tighten as you breathed so near him. The electricity was sizzling between you. Your heart beats synchronized and your minds only on one thing.
You got closer and you were practically standing inbetween his legs, you saw his breath hitch slightly but Miguel was a master at not letting his mask slip. He was good at pretending. His brow furrowed slightly, making a fruitless effort of avoiding that fucking look in your eyes. That face. Fuck.
This was bad, this was so dangerous. Being this close could end in a catastrophe for the both of you.
He paused before he put his fingers on your suit, a spark of electricity caused your body to still. He just closed his eyes and breahed out hurridly. He bit the bullet and grabbed your waist for you to stumble closer.
He needed to get this over and done with. No matter what it took, he needed to get you away from him. You gasped a little when he did that and he could feel that sound travel all the way to his dick. He tried to ignore it by getting to work and scanning your suit and then stitching up. His fingers worked at the speed of light. Your eyes just widened, continuing your mindless gawk as hazy thoughts of grabbing his hair and lowering his head further down between your thighs clouded your head. You tried to shake the sensation of his hands gripping your waist but it felt impossible, part of you genuinely wanted to grit your teeth until they shattered- the tension hurt.
Miguel always seemed to be perfectly fine on the outside, he had masked emotions other than anger or annoyance very well but this was causing that picture of himself to falter at the seams. Internally, he was breaking apart. Weakened by desperation. Lord, you were his weakness.
Images of you flashed through his head as he stitched, he wanted you tied up. Yes. With your own webs. Letting him have his way with you, pounding you until you cried and begged him to stop. He would fill you up, make you guzzle his cum as you pleaded for more. He let out a soft grunt at the sheer idea.
His fingers moved quickly as he sewed your torn suit together. “Why are you always getting hurt?” Miguel's voice was raspy, and he was unable to control his breathing. Miguel did his best to look away, but the smell of your exposed your skin was making it hard for him to think clearly. Your body was perfect. Jesus, it was like it was made for him.
You swallowed hard, your thoughts became hazy as he was this close. His hands were brushing on you and you tensed slightly at his fleeting barely there touchs. “Mm- I’m not always getting hurt.” You say softly, if you said it any louder you were sure you would moan.
“Right,” Miguel mumbled softly, his words catching in his throat. “I'm sure you were just passing by when you ran into trouble.” Miguel kept his eyes down to avoid meeting your gaze. All you could do was scowl at him. He finished his work and immediatly grabbed your waist and pushed you away as he got up from his chair to stare at his screens again as a means to avoid looking at you. “Don’t come back here.” He muttered at you seriously.
“I won’t.” You glowered at his broad and muscular back. You lied though, you were sure you’d be back. “But…I can’t keep going on like this.”
His ears pricked up at your admission and he felt the exact same way. Miguel's body was on fire. He wanted you. Right now. He didn't know what would happen if he gave into his urges. His body was shaking, and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his hands to himself. He was trying not to touch you, but every move you made, every tiny shift, only made your body more desirable. “Please, go.” Miguel choked, his voice harsh and strained.
You did as you were told and you hurriedly left. Praying that this would naturally wear off as long as you stayed away from him.
-
It had been a few days since your interaction and you had both successfully avoided each other since then but he could still feel your presence whenever you were at HQ. He could still feel the air in his office carrying your scent.
Now it was 2AM and he was still in his office. He was banging another hookup over his desk, she was bent over just so he couldn’t look at her. She was pretty but she wasn’t you. As his dick slid in and out, her moans fell flat to him, he only wanted to hear you. He was praying that this one would be the one that made him forget about you, that this one would tamper down his sexual anger and frustration but no. He got angrier. Animalistic. All he could think about was you. He was pretty sure he was hurting her when he was like this. His mood soured when he wondered what he would do to you if he finally gave in. Would he hurt you? God, what if he did….
He never wanted to hurt you.
He knew you would never be able to take it, to take all of it.
You on the other hand were in your apartment, also fucking a random hookup. You were hoping it would help your predicament but if anything it was making you more frustrated. He wasn’t fucking big enough. Yeah, his dick was better than average but it didn’t have the girth that Miguel would- You shook your head out of any thoughts of him and decided to be in the moment. You decided that it was a terrible moment. There were much more irritating things than faking an orgasm like your incessant need for Miguel.
Even though you were being fucked by another guy all you could thing about was: Miguel, Miguel, Miguel.
Nothing was working, for either of you.
-
Your mind wandered towards another way to fix this. Maybe there was a suppressant or an antidote to help keep down these primal urges and desires. These thoughts were keeping you from doing any sort of work, you couldn’t concentrate properly. Your mind was burned alive by constant thoughts of him in so many different situations. So you decided to talk to him about it. He’d probably end up killing you for even thinking about it but you were way passed that.
You sighed deeply before thrumming up the guts to see him again. Entering his lair was never a welcome idea to anyone but you and him were struggling and he was lying to himself. Miguel felt your presence again, your scent, your skin. He tampered down the jumping urge to drag you by your ankles and-
“I know you didn’t want me here again but we need to talk.” You crossed your arms but it further accentuated your chest, his stare lingered for a moment and he looked blank. Then he looked back down at a new suit he was fixing up and seemed unamused. That look just made you even more wet and desperate for his attention.
“No… we don’t.” He said thickly and your knees started buckling under the pressure. You swallowed.
“Uhm…there has to be an antidote for this or a suppressant for whatever…this is.” You said hurriedly. “Maybe I can manufacture one, I think I might be able to if I could genetically scan the spider and take it’s DNA and change its raw qualities…” Miguel watched you pace desperately as you rambled on, not even looking at him, you were pleading for a solution to this and he was getting more and more annoyed.
He stared at your lips as you spoke. Flashes of you on your knees, drooling and gagging on his cock pierced the forefront of his mind, causing his legs to feel nothing but limp. The things he wanted to do to you. He was an addict because of you.
“There is no cure for it!” He grunted loudly, cutting you off. “Hell, I’ve tried to make one since the first day I met you and all you’ve done is make me lose my fucking self control. You just standing there is enough to make me go crazy for you and I. Can’t. Help. It. I can smell you, I know you want me too but we have to fight it. We have to manage this because if you let me get close to you, I know I’ll hurt you and I won’t let that opportunity arise.” He admitted in a frenzy, his teeth almost shattering against each other, jaw clenching and unclenching. He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair as his eyes bore a ruby hue and his breathing became uneven and heavy.
You bit your lip at his angry outburst, not being able to deny how turned on you were by his rage and lack of self control. Part of you thought your mind was playing tricks on your or that you were hullicinating all of this as you were dulled by a cloud of lust, but no. You were very aware now that it was real. You were both feral for each other. You just glowered him.
“I have denied every single impulse I have ever had for you.” You grit out. “Maybe I want you to make it hurt, because any other kind of hurt right now is better than the pure need for you to fuck me right here, right now. You are not the only one who is capable of making another person hurt. Maybe I blame you. Maybe I can’t get you out of my head. Maybe I need your cock in me. Whatever….I just need to do something about it or else I’ll go fucking insane.” Miguel watched your brows furrow and your lips loosen as you uttered those fated words. His eyes glazed over twice and widened, your words were sharp and unfeeling. He believed that if you weren’t this way you wouldn’t find a need to be cruel and direct, the way your eyes glimmered yet darkened with need and passion caused him to halt in his tracks, now you were inching closer to him and he didn’t know what to do.
“It's impossible to create an antidote,it genetically and chemically changed our code.” Miguel mumbled, his voice husky and strained. “We're stuck like this...” He sighed, trying to collect himself. “Look, we just have to learn how to handle this," Miguel muttered, trying to convince himself more than you. “We'll learn to control ourselves. This...this is manageable.”
He didn’t believe any of the lies he spewed. There’s no way this was managable.
“Why do I get the feeling that that is not true.” You say softly, biting your lip and blinking up at him. Neither of you knew how you got this close now, it was like you were drawn to each other.
“Stop giving me that look. I-I can’t-“ He breathed heavily, trying to rescue himself or beg for your mercy. He didn’t know which one. Miguel hung his head and quickly turned his head as to not face you. “I’ll hurt you.” He added stoically.
“I. Don’t. Care ”
#spiderman 2099#miguel ohara#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara
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simon ghost riley x fem reader
!! smut - minors dni; extended foreplay teehee (fingering); mentioned switching
simon hums, the sound rumbling from the base of his throat. you startle, your eyes ripping open and you swivel to turn to him, forgetting, for a moment, that he's here.
that he's been watching you.
he smirks like he noticed; knowing him, he definitely did. still, it makes you self-conscious and you go to shut your legs close, hoping to shield yourself from his gaze, but simon moves so quickly, his warm palm landing on the inside of your thigh to push it down.
"no-"
"shh," he says. "y've got nothin' to be shy about, baby." he grins, all dangerous and mean. “we both know you've long crossed that bridge.”
you huff, rolling your eyes even when you let yourself be manhandled to the position he wants you in—spread open for him; presented for him.
he rumbles in pleasure, eyes darkening in rippling desire.
"c'mon, pretty, girl," simon murmurs, his fingers tickling the sensitive expanse of your inner thigh, making you tremble. "y'were just showing me how you play w'yourself when i'm not around."
the reminder makes you hiccup, shyness creeping up in slow drawls. you feel warmth filling up your cheeks and you duck down, hiding away from the intensity of his honeyed eyes.
simon chuckles. “such a doll, aren’ya?”
you ignore him and the way his words make your face burn, choosing instead to return to what you were doing—your fingers trembling as they begin to tease along your folds again. the previous sensitivity that you were riding off of has petered away but it was so easy to re-spark it, especially now that simon is touching you. the loose hold he has on your ankle makes your skin thrum and you use the hyperawareness to ramp up the flicking desire into an explosion of untethering euphoria.
your fingers aren’t enough—simon made sure, after all, that your body can only ever cum because of him—but he’s so close. he’s watching you and you take advantage of the attention.
you moan his name, a breathy little thing that rasps itself out from the base of your throat.
“si- si-!”
there is something doctored in the way you mewl, but who can blame you? yes, you’re giving him something to watch, but you’re desperate for more. you try your best to rile him up because you’re desperate for his own fingers or, and this one truly makes your breath hitch, his cock.
simon’s beautiful, beautiful cock.
god, the way it curves. the way the head is pink because simon’s so pale all over. the way his pre- beads like pretty pearls, always has you lolingl your tongue out to catch them before they drip. the way his veins surround the expanse of his girth, drawing his cock to look so macho, especially when you close your first around it.
“fuck-!”
thinking about simon’s cock makes you even wetter, slick gathering between your fingers. you punch the length of them as deep as they can go, crooking them and spreading them apart as your orgasm begins to build, pooling in your belly, making your toes curl.
“simon, please!”
your moans are more honest this time. more truthful despite the pitch that they’ve taken.
“need y’r cock. need y- no!”
you tear your eyes open—you didn’t realize you’ve even shut them tight—at the feeling of simon’s fist closing around your wrist, holding it steady, making you freeze. the peak of your orgasm crumbles, your legs trembling at the feeling of having it be ripped from you.
“no!” you cry again, thrashing. “why’d you stop me?! wanna cum, please, baby? wanna cum, please!”
“shit, lovie,” simon rasps out, looking dishevelled himself. your eyes flick down to his waist and you realize, with a coo, that he’s taken his cock out to palm himself while watching you.
you bite down a smile at the realization—you’ve won.
“y’almost made me jealous of y’r pretty fingers,” he croaks. you track the way his chest heaves, his muscles and his pecs rippling underneath the tight shirt he’s wearing. “lemme fuck you now, yeah, baby? y’want that?”
you lick your bottom lip, trilling to yourself when simon’s sharp eyes zone in on the action and tracking it with vivid intensity.
you hum then, teasing, and you shake his hold off of your wrist which simon easily acquiesces. he watches as you pull your fingers out of your cunt, slow and deliberate, before presenting them to him, the length of them having a thin sheen because of your slick.
“lick f’r me?” is what you reply to him instead.
simon full body trembles before circling your wrist for the second time today. this time, though, with a different purpose. he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he drops his jaw open to take your fingers in.
you mewl at the same time that simon groans and, you wonder, if you can last another round after this. maybe you’d bring out your strap then.
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#simon ghost riley#simon riley#female reader#suns
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Spiderverse men when they’re sexually frustrated
Rating: 18+
Peter B Parker
-He’s the best at hiding it, he gets quieter. And when he does speak his on brand dry deflections get notably bitchier. Before you porn was how he got off. It was a means to an end, there wasn’t anything sexy he found. He just needed a release then he’d go about his day.
-But you, you are sexy. With you it’s a delicious spiral of physical and emotional intimacy only you two shared. And when he wanted more he needed more.
-His pants would get tighter just being in the same room as you, his eyes would fall to his favorite parts of you to grab onto during the act. He’d press his touch to linger longer on your skin. Peter would tenderly dry hump you when you’d let him get that close. Sending every wordless signal in the book that he wants you, he needs you.
-If that doesn’t send the message, he’ll cheekily say hes got something to show you in your bedroom. Tenderly leashing his grip onto your hend as he leads you. Once that doors closed. He kisses you with a fervent hunger.
-Violently rubbing his fingers against your skin, aggressively hammering his hips into yours. Eating away at your lips, and in between gasps he’d say.
“Jesus baby, you gonna tease me without even trying?…do you have any idea what this body does to me…?”
Miguel O’Hara
-This man isn’t the least bit subtle, it would just take him a while to realize. He’s not a man who lets his guard down easily. Even when he’s in a committed physical and emotional relationship. His baggage often intersects between every milestone of your relationship.
-However when the itch in his mind and dick isn’t scratched for enough. He acts, he gets grabby. Massaging the flush of your ass and even getting hold of your pussy. He doesn’t need to ask when his fingers do all the talking for him.
-If you playfully deny him, he’ll get even angrier. Lashing out more at the spider society members, refusing to eat or drink. Zeroing in on his work praying the audio cues of his holographic computers can drown out the scream of sexual fantasies his head is playing. How desperately he needs you more than sleep and air.
-When you do finally let him hit, foreplay is the name of the game. He just needs to satiate the surface level lust of his fangs tasting the flesh of your throat. Your whimpering and cries for his cock when you denied him earlier.
-Its his payback time as what you done to him he does back ten fold. Denying you his length exploring your insides. Even to the point of you crying, he’d laugh as he humps you with the same fervor he preforms during sex.
“What happened?…thought you didn’t want this…thought my cock rearranging your insides as my tongue takes control of your mouth wasn’t what you needed? Beg for it more and I’ll consider it…”
Hobie Brown
-Hobies in tune with himself, he knows the burning sensations weaved into his muscles for your touch is cause you two haven’t had much alone time lately. Even if you’re casual, he could go out and fuck someone else whose down. It wouldn’t be the same.
-Like his hands tightened around his cock, crafting friction with his violently shifting grip. His length has a mind of its own, it belongs to you and only you.
-He doesn’t sexually initiate usually, he lets you take the lead in the bedroom department. It’s not all about him and he takes no risks in potentially coercing you into sex. So weeks could pass when nothing happens between you too. And he’s trying to jerk himself off every other night.
-But when you finally go down on your knees, trying to undo his jean zipper. Is when he can finally relent. Tenderly combing his hand into your hair, massaging your scalp as you choke on his cock. He has to resist not giving out right when he feels your tongue on his foreskin.
-Your blowjobs are a thing of art, he creates new rips in his sheets by the violence of his fingernails digging into the fabric. Cause of how good the inside of your mouth feels around him.
“Christ love, Jesus Christ….you’re too good…fuck too good.”
#18+#miguel ohara#spider punk#Spider-Man 2099#Spider-Man#peter b parker x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara x reader#Hobie brown x reader#Peter B Parker x reader#hobie brown x reader#headcanons#spiderverse hcs#spiderverse#hcs#hobie brown#Peter B Parker#miguel O’Hara
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INFINITELY YOU
part two // crullers & constants
SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.
WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion
WORD COUNT - 4.2k
// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite
name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker
Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place.
Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange.
Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown.
Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter.
Or, at least, none that mattered.
But things changed as time passed, as they so often do.
It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play.
Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift.
After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether.
And Peter never even asked why.
“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?”
Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.”
And how true that must have been.
There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too.
He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night?
Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.”
You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?!
“Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?”
It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.”
Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter.
You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?
“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.”
“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.”
The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter.
Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.”
Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used.
“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar.
Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite.
“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.”
Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now.
You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?”
Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.”
Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too.
“Did he?”
Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.”
You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's.
In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him.
“Well did he have anything useful?”
He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter.
Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups.
“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0.
“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration.
“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear.
Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?”
Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation.
“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.”
Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite.
“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?”
“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.”
You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?”
Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch.
“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?”
By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him.
Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.”
“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.”
Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.”
“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth.
Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.”
“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?”
“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?”
You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.”
“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.”
Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now!
“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?”
“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-”
“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!”
He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.”
“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief.
“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded.
If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere.
You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now.
“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down…
Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.”
Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell.
“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered.
He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night?
“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.”
He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips.
Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world.
But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all.
The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone.
Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting.
Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway.
“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!”
He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!”
You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else.
“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?”
You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?”
Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.”
His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse.
“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully.
“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter.
There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!”
You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.”
Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?”
In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task.
Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway.
“Mj happened.”
Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?”
“Yep. That’s the one.”
“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.”
It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.”
In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease.
“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth.
You sucked in a breath.
“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.”
His brow snapped up. “What changed?”
Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours.
But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth.
“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.”
“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?”
An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance.
“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.”
“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-”
“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.”
“I’m not pretending-”
Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.”
Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.”
There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest.
“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.”
“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?”
Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”
series masterlist
a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.
as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!
part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th
#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#no way home imagine#no way home fanfiction#no way home#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagines#spiderman imagines#tom!peter imagine#andrew!peter imagine#tobey!peter imagine#tom!peter x reader#andrew!peter x reader#tobey!peter x reader#marvel imagine#mcu imagine#mcu x reader#marvel x reader#marvel imagines#marvel headcanons#spiderman imagine#spiderman fic#spiderman fan fiction#dark spiderman#mcu#spiderman#spiderverse#tobey maguire#andrew garfield
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DOWN BAD- P.B PARKER
Pairing- Jock! Peter x Nerd! Reader (enemies to… lovers?)
Word Count: 4.3k
Summary: Peter Parker constantly nags you, and you hate his guts (naturally). So what better way to mellow the hate by being paired together for a class project? And why, if you hate his guts, do you want to touch him so bad?
Warnings: Making out, suggestive sexual content, dry humping, teasing, swearing etc…
Notes: It’s been a while, I apologize if my writing is a bit rusty! I hope you enjoy nonetheless, I had a fun time writing, and I really did miss it (Taylor Swifts new album really inspired me too!) I am using my phone to post for the first time, I hope to go back and format/ edit if need be when I can use my laptop again. Thank you for all the support :)
“Don’t look at me like that.” You huffed, eyes sharp as daggers as your cool gaze slid over to your target and struck its mark.
Peter Parker. Bullseye.
You could feel his lingering attention solely focused on you, a coy smirk upon his lips as he tapped his pencil against the wooden desk, its dull echo like nails on a chalkboard. A taunting metronome in the back of your mark as he leaned over to tower over you in his seat.
It was too close to yours for your liking.
“Like what pipsqueak?” he murmured, drowning out the professor's droning voice as he dragged on. You wished you could hit him with the textbook in your bag. Both of them, honestly.
“Like you’re thrilled for this. Don’t act like you like me.”
“Well I do like you.” He smiled, beaming ear to ear.
For him, it was the best day of his life. Getting randomly paired with “whoever you’re sitting next to, I don’t care.” (the professor's words, not yours), was a thrill for him, he got to pick on the quiet, shy girl more than usual.
Which would be a shock, considering the sheer amount he did already, always finding his way next to you to tease you, especially with and to his stupid jockey friends. This project was worth thirty percent of your grade. You couldn’t afford this.
“Well I don’t like you. So fuck off.” You heard a low whistle from behind you, a chuck alongside it from his friends. “Kitty has claws?” Peter whistled, eyebrow raising in mock surprise as you shifted your legs to the other side of the chair, angling away from him.
“Oh you’re in for it now Parker” Bucky laughed as you covered your ears in an attempt to drown them out. You felt like you were in middle school again, the way they mocked you. And what made it worse was that it got to you. Not that the jokes and remarks meant anything much, but it was just the sheer annoyance of it all.
You had thrived to be a straight A student your entire life, and in this class… you could feel them slipping. Taking a deep breath, you clenched your pen harder in your hand, pressing so hard the page snagged as you wrote.
You could still feel his eyes on you, flickering over from under his glasses ,his muscles flexing subtly under his blue t-shirt. You pretended not to look, and to not focus on the fact he was extremely attractive. You spent the rest of the hour doing just that, scolding yourself for any indecent thought you had ever had about him, ever. By the time the professor had snapped his laptop shut, the projector turning dark as students started to talk amongst themselves as they packed up, you had half a page of notes, max.
“I’ll be in touch.” he leaned down and whispered, hand lingering by your chair as he slipped by. “Fuck you.”
He just threw his head back and laughed, his friend group joining him as he looked back. And winked. You groaned. This was going to be three weeks of hell.
—————————————————————————
It was a Thursday when you got a text from him. An unknown number flashed on your screen as you lay face down on your bed, contemplating life and if this class was seriously worth it or not.
The buzz of the phone had your head snapping up, confused until it suddenly dawned on you.
Unknown: Think we should start brainstorming for this thing pipsqueak?
Well fuck, you thought, wanting to throw your phone across the room. This class wasn’t that important, right? (It was).
Taking a deep breath, you sat up as your thumbs started to fly across the screen.
You: Who is this?
Unknown: I’m hurt, pips. Truly.
You: I think you have the wrong number.
You smirked. Okay, who were you kidding… this was kind of fun. Kind of.
Peter: It’s Peter, you jerk. Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?
You: Peter who? Doesn’t ring a bell.
Good. Knock him down a few pegs. You giggled to yourself, quickly stopping once you realised why exactly you were kicking your feet like a school girl, for who exactly. You layed back down, head muddled with meaningless thoughts that jumbled as you waited for his response. Grabbing a stuffie, you hugged it close to your chest, feeling it rise and fall as you caught your breath, grounding yourself. Why on earth did this mean so much to you? Why did his texts, something so easily ignorable- suddenly a waiting game?
Peter: Ha ha, very funny pips.
You: How did you even get my number anyways?
Peter: Long story, I had to go on a bit of a hunt. A friend, of a friend of a friend, you get the point. I can be very persuasive ;)
Nope. You thought. Don’t give into this.
You: I’m sure.
Peter: You wanna come over on the weekend or meet at Braxston’s to start… brainstorming?
You: I don’t want to do anything of the sort, but if that gets this over with as soon as possible- then sure. Only one of us has a brain to storm anyways.
Peter: You’ll regret that pips.
You clicked off your phone, a ghost of a smirk on your face. His threat surprisingly didn’t seem like a real threat, but actual light hearted teasing, not the kind he often did.
Fuck. You were supposed to be hating him. You did hate him. It was only three weeks with him. You weren’t sure if you meant that with relief or disappointment.
————————————————————————————
It was disappointment.
You sighed, closing your eyes as you rubbed your creased temple. It was nearly midnight , and your books were still scattered across the desk you occupied, the library a ghost town considering it was a Friday night. Braxston library tended to be on the empiter side, which is why you preferred it. It was the oldest library on campus, smelling of old pages and cedarwood.
Sometimes, when you needed a break you would get up and run your fingers across the leather spines, or climb the ladder for a change of view of the stained glass windows. But tonight, you lacked the motivation to even bother standing. It had been a long night, filled with cramming and stress. Pen and highlighter stained your hands as you shook them out, cramped and aching. For the last hour you had solely focused on the final you and Peter had to pull out your ass, coming up with backup plans with the worry he would abandon you completely.
Topics, ideas, theories- god you didn’t even know anymore. Your body lacked caffeine, your iced coffee long gone. You grew tired of this mindless work, sliding off your headphones to admire the near empty room around you.
Suddenly, you wished it was completely empty.
Peter looked just as shocked to see you, eyes widening in surprise, backpack slung over his shoulder, hair ruffled and eyebags prominent as if he had fallen asleep and been startled awake.
“Pips? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet until tomorrow?” He made his way over to you, inviting himself to lean over you, on your desk. You stared up at him with a look of amusement.
“We don’t have to meet at all. It’s very bold you assume I’m here to see you, of all people.” you snorted. His eyebrow raised. “So who are you here to meet?”
“Two papers and exam prep. You?”
“More or less the same” he smirked, and you felt butterflies start to churn in your stomach. “Sounds like great fun. I’m sure they’re lovely.” you said, snarky comment slipping out before you could stop it, turning in your seat as you often did around him so he wouldn’t see the fluster and nerves in your demeanour whenever you were near him.
He leaned down, breath warm against the column of your neck. You couldn't breathe. You could not fucking breathe with him this close to you. The rich scent of his cologne made you dizzy, it intoxicated you as you stared at your laptop screen, as if it possessed the knowledge of the entire universe.
“You know, you can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.”
“I don’t know what you're talking about” you snarled softly, staring at the coy, cockly little smirk you wanted to wipe off his face as he stood. “Sure you don’t.” He nodded his head towards your screen, with a wink.
“Good song.” he smiled, before he was off. You continued to stare at him as he walked out the door, not looking back once. Not a care in the world as he slipped on his own headphones, and around the corner.
Eyes moved down to stare at the pause button of your song, lyrics burning into your ears at the thought of him listening to it- and enjoying it.
Down bad, waking up in blood, staring at the sky, come back over and pick me up- fuck it if I can’t have us, I might just not get up, I might stay down bad.
You were so incredibly fucked.
———————————————————
You took a deep breath. Then another.
You let the crisp, cool night air wash over your burning skin, the faint smell of weed tickling your senses, probably from a house down the street. It was a pretty busy neighbourhood, full of students you recognized from afar on campus. You didn’t associate with the more ‘popular’ kids, if that could even be considered a thing past high school.
You tried to shake off the uneasiness that stuck with you, cracking your knuckles as you tried to prepare yourself to not only see Peter, but to interact with him- in his house. Most likely for hours. You knew you probably looked like a complete idiot out on the sidewalk, just near his house but you had to muster some form of courage.
All you could see was a faint light from what looked like the living room, and a light upstairs- you presumed his room. No sign of life other than that.
You thought of his words, how twisted they sounded. You can’t avoid me forever. You’re gonna have to confront me at some point, pip.
Fuck it.
You slipped from your hiding spot (from Peter, you were placed behind a large tree in his front yard, but god knows what people driving by thought), and mentally prepared yourself for his roommates to answer the door, making fun of you before he put the cherry on top. Practically leaping up the porch stairs, you raced to the door, knocking quickly.
You wanted this over and done with. Your palms were clammy and your stomach churned viciously as you heard footsteps near the door. It took everything in you to stay rooted to the ground and to not flee, and when Peter appeared, you feared the opposite.
How the hell you were supposed to move with him in that slutty little fit, a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his waist, his v-line and happy trail on full display… his toned abs and arms in a little white muscle shirt… gods you didn’t know. You were sure your tongue fully hung out of your mouth like some cartoon character as you took him in.
“Took you long enough” he said with a snort, adjusting his glasses, sliding them further up his nose. You didn’t even know he had glasses. Did he wear contacts? Had he worn them and you just didn’t notice? No, surely that wasn’t the case, you noticed everything he did. It was like he sucked all of the air out of the atmosphere whenever he walked in a room. It was suffocating, in a way. Of course you had to look at him, and you were sure you weren't the only one.
“I was admiring the greenery.”
“I saw that. I wasn’t sure the maple needed to be examined that long.” he smirked, and your felt your fists instinctively clench.
He had saw you- so you were fucked and now the only logical thing to do was to run into a brick wall. Perfect, got it.
“I enjoy living in the moment, and I don’t take nature for granted.’ you huffed, attempting to compose yourself as he stepped aside, motioning for you to enter. “I’m sure. Don’t worry it was cute.” he smiled, running a hand through his tosseled hair.
You slid off your shoes, setting them next to his worn in converse you always saw him wear. You noticed the other pairs were missing, not even a missing lace to be found.
“Where are your roommates?” you asked as entered, surveying the open space. It was surprisingly tidy for a boys place, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of Peter rushing around attempting to clean up before you came (though you doubted he would ever do that). Still, it was nice to think about.
Little traces of “boy” still lingered, silly little signs scattered across the walls, flags and such, empty, crushed beer and poking out from the recycling bins. “I kicked them out, because I figured you would want to contentrate.” he said.
Yeah like I’m going to be able to conetrate with you looking that fucking fine. Ha.
“That’s considerate. I’m surprised you even know what that is, Parker. I’m impressed.”
He snorted, throwing a little look back your way as he lead you up the stairs, presumably to his room. “I’m surprised you know how to walk up stairs. You have Bambi legs.” he teased, mocking your clumsiness. You cursed him internally. Maybe out loud too, judging by his laugh.
You tried to stifle down the butterflies. You were not about to flirt with him. You were not about to let your developing feelings expand. You hated him. He was mean and he was an asshole.
You were simply here to get this project done. That’s it.
“You’re an asshole.”
“I know.” was all he said, turning down a hall to an open door, light glowing faintly- beckoning to you. You appreciated his refusal to use the overhead light- not that you’d tell him that. He’d probably look at you like you were insane.
“I see you clean for girls you bring over.” you noted, observing his (surprisingly) decently clean room.
“Bold of you to assume I cleaned. Maybe I’m always this tidy.” he smirked, arms flexing over and behind his head as he sat down in his office chair, man-spreading as he stretched.
You tried so hard not to stare. And failed miserably.
“I would’ve thought you cleaned up for ladies you bring to bed.”
His eyebrows arched. “Should I have prepared then?”
Something like churning fire burned in your belly, slithering lower and lower.
“Don’t start with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it pip.” he smiled coyly, knowing he had gotten you flustered. “May I?” you nodded to his bed, trying to ignore your feelings as you sat down. Fanning your skirt out, you tucked your legs in before opening your bag, attempting to cover your thighs with your bag as much as you could- his cool gaze staring lasers into your bare skin.
“So… if we have to base this on a creature in the wild…”
“Jumping straight to the point aren’t we?” he asked and you frowned in confusion.
“What did you want me to do foreplay or something beforehand?” you asked, your word choice more than intentional. You swore a little pink tinted his cheeks as he swiveled around.
“Right to it then. Okay, I was thinking spiders. Specifically their venom and social behaviours.”
You blinked. Jesus okay he had thought about this. This was not what you were expected.
“Elaborate Parker.”
He smiled. “ From what I’ve seen, not a lot is known about the venom entirely. From a predator-prey aspect.. I’ve mainly seen stuff on specific components evolving to target specific sites on cell membrains of prey tissue, we could work with that to start. Maybe expand on the social aspect and evolution.”
You were stunned. This was… more than you could’ve hoped for. Suddenly you felt bad for all the doubt aimed towards him over the few days leading up to this meeting.
“Hmm. I like it.”
“Did you have any ideas you had brewing in that genius brain of yours?” he asked, making you blush internally.
“I had some stuff just in case, but it was just random jots I’m not too proud of.”
He scoffed. “You came prepared with backup stuff?!”
You just shrugged. “Do you blame me?”
“Kinda.” he laughed. “Start thinking of me more highly pips. I even have access to a brown widow, we could do some experiments.”
You winced at the thought of actually studying a spider up close, but it was part of the job. Whatever could get this done the fastest, and you had to applaud him for providing some of your own evidence you could actually showcase.
He caught your wince, and you could feel the teasing start to start. It was like bait for him, he loved it. “The spider may bite, but I won’t. That is, unless you want me too.” he winked, and you fought the urge not to chuck your laptop at his handsome face.
“You’re gross Parker.”
“Oh I’m sure you think I am. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
You were going to strangle him. “Let’s just focus and get this project done as soon as we can, yeah? Please.”
You riffled through your bag, grabbing different coloured pens and your notebook, skimming through your random thoughts and jots.
“Whatever you say pip.”
“Start researching Parker.” And that was that.
—————————————————————
A few hours had passed, and so far you were quite impressed with how much the two of you had gotten done. For the most part, the two of you had stayed on opposite sides of the room. If he wanted to make a move, he wasn’t physically doing it, and his roommates still hadn’t come home yet.
Though as the hours passed, he had made his way closer to you- ever so slightly. From his desk he nudged over closer and closer, his laptop landing in his lap as he worked.
“What source are you working from right now?” you asked, not bothering to cast your gaze up as you continued to type, fingers flying over the keyboard as you bit your lip in concentration. You failed to notice his eyes darting between your lips and your breasts that poked out slightly as you slouched over, licking his lips hungrily.
“Some research paper. Here.”
You let out a little oomph in surprise as he plopped down beside you, sprawled across his bed as he enveloped you in his makeshift fortress. He stared at you with such longing you felt faint, having to stop your work to pull yourself together.
Fuck.
He nodded towards it, and you realized you had been staring at him longer than you intended, forgetting about the paper completely. “Oh, yeah okay let me look.” you murmured, taking the laptop from his hand to slide it across your lap, the fan whirling softly, the warmth of it adding more coals to the fire you felt already.
He was still staring.
Please look away before I want to kiss you. Or do more then kiss you. I’m supposed to be hating you, stop please.
You tried your best to read and concentrate, but it was next to no use. All you could focus on was him, his fingers drumming on the comforter near your thigh (what man has a comforter anyways?!), and his gaze on you, that was heavy with something. Want, perhaps? Lust? Or you were delusional. Very possible.
“It’s um, it’s good. I like it, I think there’s lots of good… stuff here.”
“Good stuff huh?” he asked sarcastically, a smirk plastered across his face.
He knew. The fucker knew you were down bad.
“Yeah. You know what I mean.” you grumbled, staring back down at your screen.
“I do know what you mean. Do you know what I mean?” he asked, hand inching closer and closer to your thigh- teasing you. You took a deep breath, grounding yourself.
You could push your hatred aside for just a few minutes. It was okay, just this once. Right?
You bit your lip, and fuck if that didn’t turn him on even more. Nodding to him, as if he could speak to you telepathically.
Yes, this is okay. Please touch me. Just a little, even is fine.
“Maybe you should explain a little more, Parker.”
His fingers skimmed the edge of your skirt, warm to the touch as they stroked your skin softly, just a whisper of him lingering. Goosebumps lingered in their wake, and you pushed your laptop off to the side, not caring where it landed on the bed. Just not next to him.
“How much more?”
His voice was low. Deep. Needing. You wanted more.
Another stroke of his fingers on your thigh, closer to where you wanted him the most made you shiver, toes curling. His gaze never left yours, never faultered. Instead of its usual lightness, his teasing and bullying- his eyes were dark with lust. Nothing but his full attention was on you, and you couldn’t help but shudder as he leaned in closer.
Another hand landed on your thigh. “Yeah?” he asked, voice rough as you nodded quickly. “Mhmmm..- oh!” you let out a little gasp as he swiftly grabbed you, swinging you over to straddle his lap, tossing you as if you weighed nothing.
You hated that you found it hot.
He smirked, leaning forward- so close you could feel his thudding heart with a small hand gesture sliding across his chest, could feel his breath catching. Just a small little gap between his lips and yours.
“You’re going to regret this.” you murdered, fingers curling into his shirt, twisting the soft fabric.
“I won’t. Will you?”
“I might.”
His smile grew.
“ I still hate you, you know.”
“I know. And you look so damn hot when you do.” He pulled you closer, fingers digging into your skin, needing you closer and closer despite the two of you practically forming one being.
A clash of teeth and tongue happened, rough and harsh- full of hate and need. A hatred for your need for him. Why did you need him? Of all people?
Because he was so fucking fine.
A hand slipped under your skirt to cup your ass, squeezing it slightly. You ran a hand through his hair, tugging on it as your hips moved on their own account- causing a groan to slip from his lips.
You’d do anything to hear it again.
“This is so wrong.” was all you could moan as his lips worked their way down your neck, tracing your jaw before nipping at your earlobe.
“I don’t do right, pips. You know this.”
“Mhm. But you hate me.”
He laughed against your skin, and you rocked your hips again, a little slap to your asscheek making you jolt.
“Whatever makes you sleep better at night, pips. Whatever you want to think.” he sighed, massaging the skin as you toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss.
You needed his lips on yours. You didn’t want to even try to decipher what his words meant, your head was foggy with want. You were slipping into a puddle of bliss, finally letting the restraint you held on a tight leash go- freeing the want and pure desire.
Yes, you wanted him. Yes, you hated him. And yes, he teased you. It hurt- but this didn’t. This was a soothe to his constant jabs, a salve to the wounds he caused.
“You feel so good. I want you so bad.” you confessed, causing him to moan again.
Yes. Yes, please.
“You’re killing me.”
“Good. It’s payback for the way you treat me.” you smirked, kissing him again. Hard, fast, rough. Mean.
Until he just… stopped.
Pulled away slightly, making you raise an eyebrow with confusion. His cheeks tinted slightly pink, hair messy and eyes wide with excitement, eager to keep going. To go further. So why did he just- stop?
“Parker?”
He smiled coyly.
“Don’t we have work we need to be doing?” he asked sarcastically- and you felt your stomach drop. He was teasing you. He was doing this just to get under your skin, to leave you high and dry and needing. Knowing damn well nothing could possibly get done now but him.
“You- you just want to get back to work? After that?”
“I want to do the dirtiest things imaginable to you, pips. I want to do so many things. But if we keep going and get nothing done, you’ll regret it and hate me. If we get work done, you’ll hate me too. I rather you hate me but feel secure with this, at least.” he murmured, brushing your cheek with his thumb.
It was tender, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “So you just, want to work? Did I do something wrong?” you asked.
“Gods no. But it’s too easy if I just give it to you like that. You know me, pips- I tease. Maybe if you’re good and get more work done we can have some harmless, regretless fun.” he winked, sliding his hands down to your hips, picking you up again to toss you gently on his pillows, kissing your hand with a wink as he stood to go back to his desk.
Oh you were fucked. So, so fucked.
“I heard that.” he laughed, and you buried your head in your hands. This was going to be a long three weeks indeed.
#peter parker#andrew!peter x reader#peter parker x reader#peter parker smut#tasm peter parker#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker fic#peter parker fanfic#tasm peter#tasm fluff#tasm andrew garfield#tasm smut#andrew!peter fluff#andrew!peter imagine#andrew!peter parker#andrew!peter smut#andrew garfield#andrew!peter fanfiction#spiderman fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman fanfiction#spider man fic#peter parker spiderman#tasm fic#tasm fanfiction#andrew spiderman#spiderman smut#spider man fanfiction
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I saw ur last post so for tasm!peter.... maybe r has really bad period cramps and peter just takes care of her?? thank u!!
Thanks for requesting my love <3
cw: period cramps
tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 637 words
“Are you sure this is normal?” You’re sweating, for Christ’s sake, face all shiny and pinched despite the heating pad and the painkillers and the chamomile tea and the dark chocolate he’d made a trip to the bodega down the street to get you. “I feel like we should call a nurse hotline or something.”
“Don’t.” You look over at Peter from the couch, voice tight with pain. “It’s normal. This is the way it is.”
“Is it really?” he frets. His knee bounces as he scrolls on his laptop on the beanbag beside you. “It hasn’t been this bad before, has it?”
“Not in a while,” you admit. “Just once or twice a year, it’ll get like this.”
Peter shakes his head, looking at his laptop. “Have you talked to anyone about it? I know lots of doctors talk about period pain like it’s never a big deal, but sometimes—”
“Are you really about to explain to me about how women’s pain gets dismissed in healthcare?” You frown. “Seriously?”
He winces. “Okay, yeah, you know this. Just, I know this isn’t my area of expertise, but I’m reading up on uterine cysts—”
“I don’t have a cyst.”
“There’s just no way this can be normal, sweetheart.” It feels like he’s pleading now, either with you or with whatever higher power is putting you through this. “There’s no way it’s supposed to hurt this much even with painkillers in your system.”
“Some girls throw up or pass out,” you tell him, a bit gentler now.
“I know,” he sighs. “I know, and it sucks that womankind has to go through that, but it’s worse when it’s you, you know? You’re my girl. You’re not supposed to hurt.”
“Peter.”
You sound almost pitying, and when he looks over you’ve softened considerably. The pain must have ebbed for the moment, because the space between your brows is smoother, the muscles around your eyes relaxed for the first time in hours.
“Close out webMD, honey,” you say with a little smile. “It’s not going to help.”
Peter obeys, shutting his laptop and slipping off the beanbag to kneel beside your head. He feels his eyebrows pinch as he cups your face. You’re running a little fever, though you’d assured him that’s normal too. When he dies, he’s got some serious questions for the guy upstairs; this is inhumane.
“What can I do that will help?” he asks.
Your mouth pulls up on one side. “You’ve already done a lot,” you say with a pointed glance to the tea and chocolate on the coffee table behind him.
“Give me something else,” he begs. “You want tickets to disney world, pretty girl? Ask and it shall be done.”
You huff a laugh, the sound doing more to Peter’s heart than it really has any right to, then look just to the left of his face. “Could you hold me?” you ask shyly.
For a second, Peter’s frozen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then kisses your cheek emphatically, standing. “Yeah, baby, why didn’t you ask sooner?”
“You seemed busy,” you say as he climbs over you on the couch, trying to maneuver you onto your side without disturbing your heating pad.
“Busy freaking out about how useless I feel, you mean.” He presses both hands to the heating pad, shuffling around until you’re slotted perfectly against his front. “If I can do anything to help, you tell me, okay?”
“Okay,” you murmur, smiling when he leans over to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m good now, though. This is nice. Can we just stay here for a while?”
Peter pffts, the show of indignance doing little to hide his fondness for you. “Sweetheart, I’ll stay here all week if you want me to. You just peel me off when you want something to eat.”
#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter parker x reader#tasm!peter parker x fem!reader#tasm!peter parker x y/n#tasm!peter parker x you#tasm!peter parker x self insert#tasm!peter parker fanfiction#tasm!peter parker fanfic#tasm!peter parker fic#tasm!peter parker fluff#tasm!peter parker hurt/comfort#tasm!peter parker blurb#tasm!peter parker imagine#tasm!peter parker drabble#tasm!peter parker scenario#tasm!peter parker one shot#tasm!peter parker oneshot#tasm!spiderman#the amazing spiderman fanfiction#the amazing spiderman
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you're gripping peter so hard you feel woozy,the contracting muscles of his biceps rippling under your palms as you wailed -- "oh,god! pete!"
one of your legs was secured against his pistoning hip,his spidey-strength had him holding your entire body weight with one arm,tilting you slightly upwards in a way that had him fucking you so deeply you felt him in your stomach.
his other was at your waist,his flat palm nearly the size of your torso,using it to pull and twist you at an angle that satisfied you both. you often caught yourself wondering whether his sheer size,in more ways than one, was an effect of the bite or if he was just blessed by birth.
"such a pretty girl." he cooed,bringing a hand to run through your hair,lightly massaging your scalp in a way that had you purring.
he could tell by the glint in your eyes accompanied by the excessive gnawing at your lip,you needed more. he wanted you speechless. so,he lowered your ass to the bed,slightly tugging your body forward as he manoeuvred your legs securely over his shoulders,your thighs pressed tightly to his chest while he drilled into you.
the new position had you reeling,head thrashing against the pillows and a loud screech being ripped from you - "peter!"
"i know,baby,i know," wet kisses were placed against your ankle,his legs flexing as he used the muscle he had to pound into you.
there was a sudden flash of lights outside the window,blue and red pouring over the both of you,accompanied by the wail of sirens flooding the room. your head snapped to peter,knowing what that meant but still somewhat hopeful.
peter was biting down on his bottom lip,one hand splayed across your stomach as he concentrated on getting you where he needed you. he was pushing as deep as he possibly could,applying pressure to where he could feel himself slipping inside you in the hopes it would have you falling apart quicker.
there was a vibration on the nightstand,both of you audibly groaning at the contact name 'yuri watanabe',though yours ended in more of a moan.
"i need you to cum for me,baby,can you do that?" he leaned back against his heels,hitting you from an entirely different angle that had you crying out,red nails coming to scratch at his abs.
"hm?" he punctuated it with a particularly forceful thrust.
"yes! for you!" your eyes were screwed shut,mouth agape and ear splitting mewls leaving you.
"'atta girl." his thumb jutted out to rub circles at your clit,jaw clenched in deep focus.
the sounds of chaos outside were growing more prevalent,peters sense desperately dragging him to your window while he fought it off. what kind of a hero would he be if he left his girl high-and-dry to go stop some amateur bank robbery?
his movements against your clit sped up,switching from rubbing soft circles to expertly flicking the bud the way he knew you liked. he had you coming shortly after,clenching around him and almost deafening him with your squeals.
you focused on catching your breath,eyes heavy-lidded and basking in the aftermath of your orgasm. they opened to the sight of your boyfriend,mask in hand and kitted up,perched over your window sill. "wait! but- pete,you didn't finish?"
his head snapped to his phone vibrating once again on the dresser,which felt a lot more obnoxious this time,although he was thankful for the reminder. he had almost forgotten it.
he was over to your side of the room in less than 3 steps,pressing a kiss to your forehead while he snagged his phone. "i'll be just fine,baby,don't worry about it."
in a flash he was repositioned at the window once again,giving you one glance and a cheeky smile before pulling his mask over his face and diving out into the city.
the soft thwips of his web shooters grew quieter,more distant,as you eventually settled into bed,thinking of how you would repay him when he got back.
#insomniac spider man#insomniac games#peter parker blurb#tasm peter parker#peter parker smut#peter parker#mcu!peter parker#mcu!peter x reader#marvel mcu#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter parker#tasm spiderman#𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬!₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊
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✮⋆˙ waist grabbers? i’m back again baby, with my takes that may or may not be accurate.
nanami: 100 fucking %
- slides past you with that hand on the waist every single time
- “behind you.” he says and he’s going straight for the waist.
- in public, waist
- when you guys are dancing together, waist
- god don’t get me started on that one
- it’s a muscle memory at this point
- his hands slip right down
- you love it, he loves it, you’re good.
satoru: no
- he’s an around the shoulders typa guy
- I HAVE EVIDENCE SO STOP!!
- it works for him, more convenient
- plus you can’t run away from his kisses
- back pocket guy also
- you know the whole peter kavenski thing?
- god i hope i don’t have to put a reference
- he’s so old school pda, actually not just pda, even at home.
- best believe his hands are going to be on you
- just not around your waist
- now when you’re FUCKING yeah.
suguru: 50/50 for sure
- he’ll wrap an arm around you sometimes but it’s not really a continuation you know?
- trying to get by? yeah (he’s one of those guys)
- wait oh my, let’s talk about it
- you know when you’re somewhere and a guy tries to pass by
- and he says “my bad” or “my fault” and puts his arm around your waist getting by?
- that’s suguru. he won’t even realize it
- his touch is electrifying though
- any other times it’s hand and hand, loves holding hands
toji: yes
- a bad habit
- because he does it to EVERYONE.
- talking to you while standing? has to wrap his arm around your waist
- sitting? right next to you he’s grabbing your waist
- fucking? waist grabbing
- it’s like he can’t stop touching you
- tried to hold his hand and it found its way back to your waist
- you tried to get him out of it but failed
choso: eh?
- LISTEN
- i see it for sure!!
- but i see him more like gojo, more cozier when it comes to that
- hand over your shoulders closing you in you know?
- but he’s a waist grabber at times!
- and he loves it as much as you
- it just doesn’t come naturally to say
- “hey let me just wrap my hand around here.” yeah
sukuna: yes
- i mean… it’s there in the open why not grab it?
- it’s the one physical touch that he actually enjoys
- always there, like it’s glued
- there’s not much to work with
- i think ima have to start making up a fanon version in my head of him like i do the rest cause whew chile
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk satoru#jjk#jjk x you#gojo satoru#jjk suguru#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk geto#gojou satoru x reader#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami kento#jujutsu choso#choso x you#choso x y/n#sukuna#toji x y/n#jujutsu toji#jjk toji#jujutsu satoru#jujutsu geto
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!this is a repost because something was wrong with the original!
Thank you so much! I had a lot of fun with this. Already looking forward to all the other imagines lined up 🥰
Secret Relationship (Bingo Game)
!BINGO ASKS CLOSED!
BuckyBarnes x Female!Avenger!Reader
word count: 1.4k
warnings: fluffy af, little angst
Your eyes stared over the coffee mug at him from across the room. He was stealing glances over to the kitchen in which you sat as Sam and Tony tried to convince him to meet the smoking hot yoga teacher bachelorette the two of them had found for him this week.
You felt a little bad for him, to be honest. Bucky seemed exhausted from their constant nagging. It was weird to see the two men together like this. Normally, Tony and Sam would just pass in the hallway with subtle nods. But when it came to finding a woman for Bucky, the two could be mistaken for best friends.
“Her name is Ronda and she is hot.”
“Mhm. Gives hot yoga a whole new meaning.”
“That’s right. And she’s willing to meet you!”
“Well, I’m not willing.”
“Why are you always like this, Bucky? We go out and we find you a nice girl and you decline every time.”
“Maybe he’s like this because Dr. No over here isn’t getting laid. Which is why you should go on this date.”
“I don’t need to get laid to be in a good mood, Tony.”
“We don’t know that. You’re always grumpy and you’re most certainly not getting laid. Doesn’t sound like a coincidence to me.”
“Oh, that definitely isn’t a coincidence.”
“I’m a scientist I know that stuff.”
“Yeah, he’s a scientist. Listen to him.”
“Shut up, Sam.”
But Bucky was panicking, you could see it in his eyes. He wanted to say it, that he didn’t want to go on dates because was already dating you. But you had forbidden him from doing so. It was better this way, and he had not spoken up when you suggested keeping your relationship a secret for now.
With a small smirk, you got off your chair.
“Have you two geniuses ever thought about your annoying banter being the reason for his bad mood?” You sauntered past the men with your mug still in hand, the other slightly grazing Bucky’s back on your way to the door. You could feel his muscles relax just from the small touch.
“How are we being annoying? We are literally helping him get some.”
“I don’t need to get any!”
That was the last thing you heard Bucky shout frustratedly when you entered the hallway, a small chuckle leaving your lips before you went to your room to finish the report you had yet to hand in.
-❁-
It wasn’t long before Bucky entered your room with an exhausted sigh. He leaned against the closed door when you looked up and then proceeded to approach you at your desk, where he leaned over your shoulder, arms caging you to his chest and chin nuzzling in your neck.
“They’re the worst,” he mumbled into your sweater before placing small kisses along your neck.
“I know, baby.” You stroked his arms. “For the geniuses, they claim to be, they’re really hardheaded.”
“I feel like it’s just me they’re bothering with this. For all they know, you are single too.”
Another pang went through your chest. Bucky had not been part of the team for long. And you had spared him all of the details about most members that Steve hadn’t already told him about.
There was a reason why Tony and Sam didn’t suggest eligible partners to you, and that was because you had multiple suitors amongst the team and beyond already. If you wanted to have someone, they just assumed you would get them. Not to mention the total embarrassment they had witnessed when you had rejected Pietro in front of the team during movie night. You hadn’t meant to, but he had sprung it upon you without warning, and you hadn’t wanted to lead him on.
Then there was Peter, the intern, that harbored a silly schoolboy crush on you since he had gotten his first action figure of you, and letting him down gently was harder than you had thought. Tony and Sam, especially, had gotten amusement from the frequent serenades and suggestive fan mail you received. They even suggested an “open mail + wine night” for their personal entertainment one time. And, well, you didn’t say no to wine and gossip.
But despite all this, it wasn’t the reason why you wanted to keep your relationship a secret. Bucky had been closed up from the very first time Steve introduced him to the team. It had taken two months for him to reply to simple questions such as if he wanted coffee, too. But somehow, you had the honor of being the first person he trusted after Steve. And once you had gotten to know him better, he was the sweetest person ever. Caring, funny, charming - very touchy. But you were scared this would go away once everyone started teasing him about it. So yes, it might have been to protect Bucky, but it felt more and more like personal gain to you.
“I want you to know that I don’t need Yoga Brenda, or Coffeeshop Mandy, or anyone else. I just wanna tell them that I’m already dating the most gorgeous woman they could ever find.”
“You are wonderful, do you know that?” Your head leaned against his shoulder when you felt Bucky smile into the crook of your neck. “And I guess I could deal with a little more PDA - warm the team up to it slowly.”
“Sounds like a great plan.” And with that Bucky turned your chair and pulled you up and towards the bed. “Until then,” he patted his lap once he sat down, “I demand a kiss for every time I had to vouch for us.”
You smirked before straddling him. “Oh, I’ll gladly pay up, then.”
-❁-
You knew Bucky was touchy, but now that he had permission to do so outside your rooms, it lit a whole new fire within you. You couldn’t reach the cupboard? He would press up against you with a hand on your hip and get whatever item you needed. You walked through a door? You bet he would hold that thing open until you were all the way through.
But those were just the, in his way, subtle approaches for when everyone was around. When the two of you happened to catch a quiet moment, he wouldn’t hesitate to hug and kiss you in every common area of the compound.
You didn’t mind it too much - Bucky was a great lover all around. But you were still a little nervous as to what the team’s reaction would be. You had already gotten glimpses of it. A raised brow from Natasha, who really was just surprised it had gone past her for so long. A double take from Pietro when Bucky brushed an eyelash from your face. And a knowing smile from Wanda, who to be honest, had probably known all along - your thoughts weren’t exactly subtle... or PG.
Though you had yet to see Sam or Tony react to the increase in affection Bucky gave you. It wasn’t unusual that he asked you to train or make a joke - you were friends in everyone’s eyes. But it would become obvious if he kept up the thing he was doing right now.
Bucky had just swiped some chocolate from your face in the kitchen, and when Clint had left the room, Bucky’s hand just lingered on your face. You were staring at him. And every time those eyes gazed into yours, it was hard to remember that there was a world around you.
“I like this,” Bucky smirked when his thumb grazed over your cheek. His mouth followed shortly and soon he was stealing pecks from your soft lips.
“It is very nice,” you admitted flustered from the kisses, your hands now grabbing at his shirt.
“See, it’s not so bad.”
You just hummed in response when Bucky patted your ass affectionately.
“Ahhh! What did I just see?” Sam’s eyes were wide, his head immediately snapping to Tony. You just sighed as you leaned against Bucky’s chest. It had to happen sooner or later...
“Holy smokes, Barnes. Had we known you got Miss Unattainable, we would have shut up a long time ago.” Tony whistled in acknowledgment before he approached the fridge and retrieved a water bottle.
Bucky just looked at you with a lazy smile, his hands rubbing up and down your back. It was nice not to hide anymore.
“What can I say?” He was looking into your eyes when he spoke. “She likes to keep me to herself.” And when you responded with a smile, he leaned in and kissed you shamelessly.
“Geez, get a room,” you heard Sam mumble gruffly.
But all you could do was giggle as Bucky hid his smile in the crook of your neck, his scruff tickling your skin and the weight of the secret falling from your shoulders.
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#1k follower celebration#writing challenge#megs imagines#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky barnes#winter soldier imagine#winter soldier x reader#the winter soldier imagine#bucky x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky fanfic
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Appreciation
Summary: Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
That 🎂 needs more appreciation! Mildly suggestive. Innuendo. Just having some fun. Inspired by this amazing fanart!
“You’re drooling.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
You gave Jessica Drew a side-glance. “Peter, tell her I’m not drooling.”
“You’re drooling.”
Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you heaved a sigh.
Miguel O’Hara had his back turned to you, and you just couldn’t tear your eyes from his glorious ass.
It should be illegal to wear something so tight around it, leaving nothing to the imagination.
“Do you need some tissues just in case in?” Jess leaned in with a devious smile.
You growled in annoyance drumming your fingers on the table, which was enough to catch his attention. He turned around, facing away from the orange screens floating around his platform.
“Can you pay attention?” he asked, hands on his hips and crimson eyes narrowing.
The three of you nodded instantly and you straightened in your seat, inwardly mourning the loss of visual contact with his backside.
Peter was the next one to sigh, and Miguel scowled. “It’s important we go through these procedures. The fate—”
“—of the multiverse is important,” Peter then yawned from beside you. “Yeah. We know, we know.”
You giggled and saw Miguel scowling. “Leave. Go get ready for your reconnaissance mission, then.”
Jess and Peter didn’t need to be told twice and rose to their feet, heading towards the exit.
You were about to follow suit when Miguel’s voice was heard, “Not you.
Oh?
“You stay.”
Peter turned briefly and mouthed a ‘good luck’ before exiting, the door sliding shut behind them.
But what he didn’t know was that you had just struck gold.
You cheered inwardly, barely able to contain your excitement, as you sat on the table behind you, dangling your legs playfully.
Miguel paced slowly in your direction, face as serious as usual.
When he stopped right in front of you, you parted your legs, waiting for him to settle in between, which he promptly did.
“You are so frustrating.”
“Hmm?” you rose an eyebrow playfully.
To an outsider, it might seem like he was beyond annoyed.
He always strived to look serious and intimidating.
But you knew better.
“You you were supposed to be paying attention to what I was saying,” he whispered.
“In my defense, it was staring at me first,” you rose both hands in defense. “Not my fault.”
His eyes fell to your lips. “Ah. So you were staring.”
“Your ass is magnificent, Miguel,” you said with a click of your tongue. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Be more professional.”
You scoffed. “Says the man wearing a suit so tight we can see every single line of muscle.”
He chuckled and you did the same, enjoying the sound of his carefree voice.
“Can I touch it…” you asked with a devious smile.
He answered by grabbing both of your hands and setting them on his hips. “You don’t have to ask.”
You let your fingers trail down slowly behind him, grazing the material of his digital suit. Once you moved past the generous curve of his ass, you gave each cheek a gentle squeeze.
Everything was firm and in place, and you couldn’t stop yourself from massaging him with the palms of your hands.
“Does your suit need to be this tight?” you asked.
He slid the back of his index finger from your neck to rest under your chin, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. “Aerodynamics.”
“You’re such a tease,” you mumbled.
He craned his neck to match your height. “Me?”
The pads of your fingers traced patterns along his taut muscles, and you were reminded of how lucky you were to have this all to yourself.
“I need your workout routine.”
He leaned in even closer. “I’ll show it to you, then.”
You hummed, his lips almost touching yours. “And is it hard?”
The pun didn’t go amiss and Miguel chuckled softly. “Depends on the position.”
“And then I get to have such an amazing ass?” you asked, squeezing him again with both hands.
His warm breath fanned your skin. “You do.”
You then narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re not scamming me, are you?”
Miguel’s lips grazed yours. “Scamming?”
Giving both his cheeks a few more squeezes, you straightened up.
“You sound like those shady fitness gurus from Earth-1610,” you feigned seriousness in your voice.
He surprised you by planting a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I would never scam you.”
Then another kiss.
“What you see is what you get.”
Your fingers curled harder this time into his hard muscle, drawing his lower half closer. “That sounded so shad-”
Miguel interrupted you with a kiss, bringing both hands to cup your face, rubbing his thumbs along your cheeks.
You melted into his touch, smiling but not breaking the kiss.
He was so easy to love.
Eventually, he managed to tear himself away with a genuine teasing smile. “Was that shady?”
You patted both of his cheeks lightly, enjoying the slapping sound. “I may need more convincing.”
Masterlist
#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel x reader#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara x you
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OKOK BUT LIKE CUCKHOLDING WITH MIGGY AND PETER B
That would be soooo fucking hot
sharing’s caring
pairing: miguel o’hara x peter b parker x fem reader
contents: cucking, slight nipple play, oral (f and m receiving), masturbation (m), unprotected p in v, some aftercare
author’s note: put me in a room with them and they both coming out pregnant 🗣️
word count: 3.3K
Miguel O’Hara was possessive by nature, making sure that what he acquired stayed as his. His possessive nature had started off with material items, moving onto being possessive over the people in his life out of fear. Out of fear that they would leave him or find someone else, he wasn't too sure, but he didn't want to take chances. It was no surprise to see him clenching his fist by his side, his mouth in the signature scowl that he carried while he looked at you interacting with Peter B.
The scene was purely innocent between the two of you, knowing that you were providing him with some comfort after his umpteenth divorce with MJ but that didn't stop the jealousy that brewed deep inside of him. Your hand rested on his shoulder, simply rubbing it as you tried to reassure him to the best of your ability. "I'm sure that if it's meant to be, she'll come back to you," you told him, handing him a tissue to wipe his nose on. "Peter," you heard from behind you, the hairs on the back of your head standing up as you saw Miguel standing there. His hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, a silent cue that you were his.
"Didn't mean to make a scene but your girlfriend here's a good therapist," the lanky man told him, tossing the tissue after he was done. "Does she now?" Miguel mused, his tone seeming normal to everyone else but you could tell he was refraining from saying what he wanted to. "I was thinking of inviting you over to dinner, actually. We'd love to have you and I'm sure that you could use the company," Miguel added on, watching as Peter's eyes lit up at just the prospect of having food available. "Sure, what time would you like me to be there?" Peter responded, the tears on his cheeks already starting to dry. "We'll see you at seven."
"Do you mind helping me put this necklace on?" You asked Miguel after a couple minutes of struggling, his tall frame coming behind you. You were seated at the vanity in your bedroom, finishing up on getting ready for the dinner tonight. "You know my hands are too big for those little clasps," he muttered, his talons extended as the clasp of the necklace hung on the tip. The sharp edge of the talons helped him put it on with much more ease, the gold necklace adorning your outfit perfectly. “So why'd you ask Peter for dinner?" you inquired, looking at him through the mirror. "Just wanted to do something for a struggling friend."
He was finishing up getting ready himself, a couple of the buttons on his shirt starting to snap off with how hard he was forcing them. He changed into a black button down, the material doing nothing to conceal the layers of muscle he'd built up over the years. You got up and decided to help him with the buttons before this shirt met the fate as the other one. "Thank you," he murmured, looking down at you as you focused on getting the buttons into the right spot. You leaned over, kissing his cheek when you were done with the task. You couldn't help but smile as he held you in his arms, his hands resting on your waist as he held you close. A loud knock on the door interrupted the both of you, both of you reluctantly letting go before heading downstairs.
You'd made a simple meatloaf for dinner, knowing that Peter couldn't handle the same amount of spices that Miguel could. "It's a little simple, no?" Miguel pointed out, taking a sip from his wine glass to help it go down easier. "What are you talking about? It's delectable!" Peter exclaimed, licking his fingers of the juices from the steak that were dripping down his hand. You look over at Miguel knowingly, taking a bite from your own slice before realizing that he was right. "So Peter, how are you spending your time after the divorce?" you asked him, trying to make some conversation to the dinner wouldn't appear too boring. "Uh, mostly just watching tv and whatnot."
Conversation between the three of you went by smoothly, with you and Peter talking for most of the time while miguel simply listened to the both of you speak. "So, hypothetically, if you could have your way with my girlfriend right now, what is it that you would do to her?" Miguel spoke up, the question catching you completely off guard. Your head shot up and you glared over at him, his attention directed on Peter for his reaction. Peter looked at you like he was debating on what the answer was, setting down his fork before answering. "I think I would worship her, admire her body rather than try to be in a rush all the time. Take things slow."
Throughout the rest of the dinner, the wheels inside of your head wouldn't stop turning as the conversation from earlier repeated itself over and over. You guessed that it was Miguel’s objective with the dinner all along, to help prove to you that Peter B did in fact have some sort of a physical attraction towards you. Though the question that Miguel had asked him wasn't too inherently sexual, you could tell just from the tone that he was using that what was the hidden innuendo behind it. You cleaned up the plates after they finished up eating, deciding to join them on the couch to watch whatever was on tv before Peter went home.
The three of you were sitting down on the couch, Miguel’s arm around your shoulders as you snuggled up closer to him. Your eyes were glued to the tv, paying attention to the show onscreen before your attention was diverted by Miguel clearing his throat. "So how would you like to explore those fantasies of yours? It'd be just for the night, of course," he spoke up, Peter's eyes flicking over to him. "Are you sure? I don't want to impose or anything, and who knows if she's even comfortable with it," Peter responded, sounding a bit nervous as he spoke. "She doesn't have any objections to it. Trust me, you won't be imposing at all."
The two men led you to the bedroom, Peter trailing behind the two of you as Miguel maneuvered his way through the house. You saw that one of the chairs from miguel's home office had been moved to the corner of the room, his tall frame making the chair creak under his weight. You looked over at Peter, his face slowly leaning in closer to meet yours. his lips pressed against you gently, giving you enough time to back away if you were feeling uncomfortable with the contact. You were receptive to the kiss, your lips enveloping his in a seemingly innocent kiss before deepening the action. He explored your mouth with such eagerness, his tongue dancing along with yours in what seemed to be a sensual tango.
His mouth moved down to your shirt, looking up at you to receive some form of consent before he took it off. you nodded, his fingers doing quick work of taking it off and tossing it to the side. As he looked down at you, you couldn't help but notice the way that his eyes glinted underneath the lights. He looked at you like he was almost admiring you, admiring something that he'd only be able to have this once. His hands came to the back of your bra, unhooking it with expertise before tossing it to the side as well. His mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, sucking on it like he'd been deprived of the taste. His hand came to your other breast, tugging and pinching it to get the nipple as erect as the other one.
Your hand came up to his hair, your mouth slightly parted as your breathing starting to get a little heavier. You looked over at miguel to see what his reaction was, his features revealing nothing of what it was that he was feeling. "Hey, eyes on me," Peter spoke up, your attention drifting over towards him once more as he swirled his tongue around your nipple. He switched places, giving your other breast the same kind of dedication that he'd given the other one. You tugged on his hair gently as he continued to stimulate your nipples, your thighs clenching out of instinct as you felt yourself start to grow wet.
Peter kept his eyes on you as he kissed down your stomach, reaching the hem of your pants in a short time. After finding that you weren't saying no to him, he unbuttoned your pants and motioned for you to lift up your hips. You did as he asked, lifting up your hips to give him better accessibility to you. He got in between your legs, licking a stripe up your clothed cunt as a method of teasing you. "Stop teasing me Mig-," you were about to say, cutting yourself off before you finished the rest of the sentence. You'd been having sex with Miguel for so long that your mind instantly went to the default rather than the person in front of you. "Ah sorry, it's actually Peter," the man underneath you teased, his fingers gently running through the hem of your panties.
He took off your panties, your glistening cunt exposed to the two men in the room. Peter stepped back so Miguel could get a proper view, your eyes drifting over to him. He'd zipped his fly down, his hand palming at his straining cock, a clear outline shown through the black boxers that he'd chosen to wear. "Such a little slut getting wet for other men," Miguel spoke up, your brows furrowing a bit before Peter lifted your chin up to him. He enveloped your mouth in his, kissing you with such a fervor and need as his fingers slipped inside your cunt with ease. While they weren't as long and as thick as Miguel’s, they were able to reach the spots that had your toes curling in anticipation.
He pulled his hand away, getting on his stomach as he got closer to your cunt. He tentatively licked a stripe up the folds of your pussy, your fingers tangling up in his hair as you realized just how eager he seemed to be. You'd seen the way that Peter fucked up the burgers in the cafeteria, eating like a man starved, so it was no surprise that he was giving your pussy the same treatment. Peter plunged his tongue into your hole, a loud mewl escaping from you as he thrust it in and out. "You didn't tell me how tasty your girlfriend was, Miguel. You've been holding out on me," Peter mumbled, too pussy drunk to bring his face up to speak to him properly. "Enjoy her while you got her."
Your hips pushed back onto Peter’s expecting face, shamelessly grinding against his face as you tried to get yourself off. You were refraining from moaning out his name, keeping it to the simple 'oh' and the 'right there.' "Tell me who's making you feel this good, baby. Come on don't be shy," Peter cooed, his mouth clamped around your clit as he sucked on the nub. "Oh, it's you Peter," you responded, your voice sounding breathless even to your ears. You tugged on the strands of his hair harder as his fingers came inside you, working at the same pace that he was sucking your clit in. His fingers curled with the goal of finding your g-spot, soon hitting that spongy spot inside with every thrust that he took.
The balls of your feet pressed against the mattress as you came around Peter's mouth, your slick glistening across his lips and chin. He pressed a small kiss to your folds before pulling away, leaning over and kissing you once more. You looked over to see Miguel pumping his cock with his head lolled back, his finger collecting some precum on the tip of his finger and smearing it across the base to help out with the friction. Peter took off his pants, his boxers following suit before he reached over and grabbed a pillow from beside you. He angled your hips up, allowing him to thrust into you with much more ease. He slid inside slowly, giving you enough time to reject his advances if that was something you wanted to do.
Peter's cock nestled inside of you, like he was just basking in the opportunity of having his dick inside of a wet cunt once more. He slowly retracted his cock, pushing into you in one swift motion. "Such a tight pussy, your boyfriend hasn't been fucking you right?" He asked, your walls clenching against his cock like a vice. They practically engulfed his cock, forcing him to go deeper inside of you. You stayed quiet, not wanting to offend the man sitting in the corner but you heard a tut come out from Miguel. "He asked you a question, nena. Answer him," Miguel’s voice came out strained, his hand tightening around his shaft as a way to replicate the sensation of your cunt. "Somewhat, just need you to fuck me right," you responded as you played into the role, looking up at Peter with your best attempt at doe eyes.
"Such a dirty mouth. Maybe we'll have to stuff you up and see how dissatisfied you truly are after that," he told you, Miguel’s figure looming over the both of you before he approached your side. His hand came down to your breast, his thumb circling around the nipple as your hand went over to his cock, pumping him slowly. "Open," he ordered, his red eyes locked on yours as he slid his cock into your expecting mouth. You sat up a little bit to position yourself to take his cock, brushing your mouth against the sides of his shaft before taking him in your mouth.
You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, tasting the semi salty remnants of his precum. Peter slowly thrusted into you, trying to get you used to the sensation of having him inside of you before he sped up. "You can go faster, Peter. She can take it. Can't you, sweetheart?" You were eager to comply, your head nodding even as Miguel was speaking. Peter's thrusts sped up, his balls slapping against the back of your thighs every time that he moved forward. You moaned around Miguel’s cock, the sound coming out muffled since your mouth was completely stuffed by the sheer thickness of his length.
You moved your head further down Miguel’s cock, one of your hands reaching over to his balls as you held the sack in your hands. You gently ran your fingers through it, giving it a small massage before tugging on them slightly. His hand came to the back of your head, forcing you to take his length in deeper. You felt tears brimming at the corner of your eyes as he triggered your gag reflex, your spit coating his length as you tried to get readjusted to the feeling. Your cheeks hollowed as you tried to take more of him in, looking up at him as you did so. "That's it, that's it," Miguel moaned out, his eyes closing as he felt your tongue running down the underside of his cock.
Peter's hands came to your hips, holding on to them as he thrusted deeply into you. your back arched slightly as you felt him brush up against your g-spot, your mouth parted. "That's it, right there," you moaned out, your words coming out muffled from Miguel’s cock in your mouth. "Can't hear you right, princess. What was that? You wanted me to slow down?" He decided to tease you, his pace agonizingly slow as he saw the desperation coax your features. You took Miguel’s cock out of your mouth, needing him to speed up. "No, please. Go back to what you were doing before," you asked of him, tears in your eyes at the prospect of being denied an orgasm. You pushed your hips against his, trying to use his cock to your advantage but you were quickly stopped.
"So impatient, all you had to do was ask," Peter mused, his thrusts resuming to what they had been before. "You'll be a good girl for Peter, right nena?" Miguel cooed as he looked down at you, stroking your cheek ever so softly. He knew that you were too fucked out to say a word right now, but seeing you attempt to form a coherent sentence in your state was borderline adorable. "I'll be good, I'm sorry!" You spoke up, putting your mouth back on Miguel’s cock as Peter's hand came down to your clit. Your muffled moans sent vibrations all over Miguel’s body, getting him closer and closer to that edge as Peter neared to it as well.
Your cunt squeezed around his cock tightly, the all too familiar coil building up inside of you. "Please let me cum," you pleaded with him, unsure of your ability to hold it if you were denied. "Since you've been so good to me, you can cum," Peter responded, your cunt squeezing around his cock for a final time before fresh slick from your release coated his shaft. He continued to keep the same pace, working you through your orgasm and working towards his own. "Gonna get you fucking pregnant with the way you keep squeezing around me," Peter groaned out, his thigh muscles tightening as he approached his orgasm. "Like hell you are," Miguel grumbled, pushing Peter off you before he came inside.
Peter's hand wrapped around his shaft as he pumped at it, working towards replicating what he felt inside of your cunt to reach his orgasm. Ropes of cum landed on your chest and stomach, a loud moan erupting from his throat as he did. Miguel came a couple seconds after that, his cum landing on your tongue and in the corners of your mouth. You swallowed the substance, licking at your lips once he had. your attention shifting over to Peter who was already starting to get dressed to leave, tucking himself in his boxers. “I'll walk you out, Peter," Miguel told him, getting dressed as well.
You felt dirty as you were sitting down on the bed, your stomach starting to get sticky from the cum splayed on it. You got up, grabbing a towel to clean yourself up before going to the toilet, making sure to pee before you went back to bed. “We should do that again sometime," Peter told Miguel just as he was about to leave, a dark chuckle eliciting out of the other man in response. "This was a one and done deal. Do so much as look in her direction again and I'll shocking kill you. Understood?" Miguel muttered, keeping his voice quiet so you wouldn't overhear. What you did hear was when Miguel was telling him goodnight, to drive home safely.
"You okay? We didn't exert you too much or anything?" Miguel asked, approaching you as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’m alright, thanks," you muttered, a little disappointed that Peter didn't even bother to look at you after he got what he needed. You figured at least as a friend, he would’ve given you a goodbye before he left. You leaned your head back into Miguel’s touch, his hands circling around your waist slowly. "I got you some of that ice cream you like, we could watch a movie and eat that if that's something you want to do," he told you, giving your forehead a small kiss before retreating to the kitchen when you agreed. Though you enjoyed the thrill of what you'd done with both Peter and Miguel, these moments wrapped up in Miguel’s arms as he held you close to him was what made you feel all fuzzy inside.
#muchosbesitos#miguel o'hara#peter b parker#peter b parker smut#miguel o'hara smut#spiderman smut#spiderman#spiderman across the spiderverse#miguel spiderman#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x y/n#atsv miguel#miguel x y/n#miguel x you#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderverse#spiderman atsv#peter parker#peter parker smut#miguel o’hara imagine#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o’hara x you#miguel o’hara fanfiction#self insert#smut#miguel imagine#miguel smut#miguel 2099#miguel o’hara across the spider verse#miguel o’hara spiderverse
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can you please write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where the reader gets injured and when Peter comes to visit her in the hospital her crush is exposed because her heart monitor keeps going insane 🙏🙏 she’ll get really embarrassed and he may tease her a bit but ultimately her feelings end up being reciprocated. There could be some angst when she gets hurt but I am the number one fan of teeth-rotting fluff that will make me giggle and kick my feet 😍🫶 could be a friends to lovers situation or an established relationship if you’d like!!! I love ur writing <3
he’s trying to kill me
tasm!peter x fem!reader
a/n: it’s only proper for this to be a hurt reader comfort peter fic (and i mean that literally)
“what is wrong with you?”
you’re momentarily shocked when an accompanying voice bursts through the room. the words are loud and imposing, and completely distracting you away from the already rough rasp and egg smelling breath of the doctor trying to explain how reckless you were being.
but the new voice is angrier than the first; harder and louder.
there’s still uncertain goosebumps running up your skin when he walks through the doors with his chest heaving and eyes dark, pushing past the doctor like he doesn’t even realize that the woman is there, or just doesn’t care.
but his hands are gentle as they reach you, and his face is anything but shocking.
the doctor is glancing around his shoulder, a worried look in her eyes.
quickly, your muscles relax. you’re used to this imposition. your nerves settle, and you allow peter the chance to freak out for the both of you.
his hands run over your cheeks, his eyes darting over every possible inch of skin they can find. his frown is unburdened and furious. when he is satisfied with his scan of you—all limbs accounted for—peter’s shoulders lose a bit of their tension.
although you allow peter to pull you closer to him, his eyes are threatening, and not even your small greeting of a smile gets his face to settle.
he hugs you—crushing your head against his chest—and then quickly let’s you go, like he’s just realized that you’re made of lava.
but not too far, of course. peter is well within a foot distance.
“what is wrong with you?” he repeats, but a hiss this time. a punishment awaiting its victim. a demand of you. “are you crazy?”
your brows furrow back at him. “i’m fine, peter, now shush. let me listen to the doctor.” your voice is firm, but your chastising is ruined by the tip of a smile at your lips.
your hands wrap around peters arm, moving him away from blocking your view of the doctor.
you nod for her to continue.
“your x-rays came back fine, and there’s nothing unusual about your blood work. the only concern i have is about your head—“
“her head?” peter repeats, voice a bit high. you give him a look to shut up. pinching the skin of his arm, but he doesn’t flinch. just stares at you like you might disappear. or you gained four additional eyes.
she clears her throat. “it looks to be a minor concussion, but any more blunt force trauma might worsen your condition. so it’s important that you take extra precautions in the next couple of weeks, and avoid doing anything that might affect your head. no strenuous exercise, or harsh movement.”
“so no alleyway fist fights?”
she doesn’t laugh, and neither does peter. the tension within the room remains, swirling over you like a cumulonimbus cloud.
but he does interrupt once again. “could it get worse on its own?” he asks, eyes darting between you and her. “do i need to be watching for anything? checking her pupils every once in a while, or making sure she’s not excessively napping for the next couple of days—“
“it shouldn’t be necessary.” she looks back to you, and you can see the sarcasm in her eyes. “if you develop any unusual symptoms, schedule an appointment with your physician. but otherwise, you’re free to leave whenever they bring in your paperwork.”
you feel peter sigh next to you, and you shake your head. “thanks, doc.”
“i’ll have a nurse bring in a list of information about any reoccurring symptoms, and the healing process for your brain over the next month.”
you nod.
the doctor clears her throat once again, giving you a tight lipped smile and nodding at peter, and then she runs out of the room as fast as humanly possible.
you watch her go but peter is staring at you. eventually, when you’ve been dwelling on the pattern of the tile for a moment too long, you look back.
and what you see is expected; harsh lines and worried dimples, stormy eyes and a gash of a frown ruining his otherwise perfect face.
you sigh.
peter swallows. “are you going to explain yourself?”
you lean forward, small teasing smile on your lips as you rest your chin on a hand. “explain what? my headache?”
“c’mon, i’m serious,” his frown doesn’t budge, but he nudges your leg so he can sit down next to you. “what were you thinking?”
he sighs again, shoulders falling, and leans his head next to yours. when he’s this close, you can see the lines wearing under his eyes. you can smell smoke coming off of his skin.
“i was thinking that my doctor needs to improve her bedside manner, and that my boyfriend needs to learn how to wait his turn to speak.”
“i’m not kidding. you could’ve hurt yourself—you’ve already got a concussion.”
“a minor concussion.”
“does it matter?” peter mumbles, rubbing his eyes.
“i’m fine, baby, all bandaged up and everything.”
peter pushes himself up, meeting your eyes with an unfound passion. “this time,” he urges, getting closer, he glances at the door. “but what about next time when you decide to jump off a building just to prove you can fly?”
“i’m not icarus,” you shake your head. “you needed help, peter. i’m not going to let someone get hurt just so i don’t.”
“that’s my job.”
“that’s every good samaritans job,” you roll your eyes, hand brushing through his hair, feeling the dirt build up under your fingertips. “just because you have an advantage over everyone else doesn’t mean that you’re the only one who gets to be a hero.”
“dying isn’t heroic.”
you scoff. “that’s actually the most heroic thing a person can do, but i’m going to let you have this one so you don’t go and get any ideas.”
he bites his lip, swallowing. “you could’ve gotten hurt.”
“well so could you, but you don’t see me bursting into your room and interrupting—“
“that’s not the same thing.”
“how, peter?” you ask, shaking your head and giving him a small smile. “how is this any different?”
“because i can handle it!”
he moves away from you, and throws his head back, sighing out of frustration and looking at you with gentler, more pained eyes. “i can handle it,” he repeats.
“are you saying that if you were standing where i was you wouldn’t have pushed that woman out of the way?”
“i—“
“you cant expect me to watch you save everyone and not help when i can.”
peters eyes catch yours, and you watch him struggle to speak. but eventually he whispers, “you got hurt.”
“i’m okay, though. really.”
“i don’t…” peter shakes his head. “i don’t want, i can’t—ugh.”
you reach for his hand, running a finger over bruised knuckles. “i appreciate your concern,” you tell him, softly. “i know you’re just worried, but you have to let me make my own decisions. you cant rescue everyone all the time.”
“you would be enough.”
you snort. “peter, you have the worlds biggest savior complex. if you let a single person get hurt—even if they live in antarctica—you brood for days. i don’t expect you to watch other people suffer, but i need you to respect the same for me.”
your words are almost biting.
there’s a moment where peter looks at you, and then glances towards the wall. “are you mad?”
you frown. “no, of course not. annoyed or frustrated, maybe. but not mad.”
he gestures beside you with his head. “your hearts beating really fast.”
you look over to the screen next to your head, watching the lines rise and fall rapidly. and then down to your finger, with the cursed device making it apparent to everyone in the room.
“that’s just my resting heart rate,” you say, curled lip and waved hand.”
peter licks his lip. “oh, really?”
“yes, peter. you put on the finger thingy and let’s see how fast your hearts going.”
“i’m not the patient here. are you feeling alright? light headed? dizzy?”
“i’m feeling interrogated.”
peter moves closer to you, eyes darting towards the screen by your head, then to your eyes. he moves away, and his eyes squint. “hmm.”
you look with him, furrowed brows. “what?“
he leans forward again. “there seems to be a common factor.”
“i already told you—“
“every time i move closer to you your heart rate spikes.”
you roll your eyes. “that’s because i’m mad at you.”
“i thought you said you weren’t mad?”
“things have changed.”
peter laughs and leans down to kiss your hairline. when he moves back his eyes aren’t on you. a small smirk falls on his lips, and he moves to kiss your cheek. and then the other.
you don’t need to watch your heart rate to feel the heat rising in your chest.
he leaves a peck on your nose, and moves to kiss the side of your jaw. his kisses are gentle and ticklish, and when his nose runs along your cheekbone, you have to refrain from shivering.
he’s incredibly annoying.
peter moves back as little as possible so he can watch the screen. “maybe i should leave the room.”
“maybe you should get over yourself.”
peter moves forward again, kissing your cupids bow. and then his lips are at your ear and his fingertips are grazing your jaw.
“you first,” he whispers.
you groan and tilt your head, trying to shake him off of you. “this isn’t fair. get your own monitor.”
“let’s just focus on you right now.”
your hand locks around his neck, the other moving to his hair. peters eyes are almost shocked at the feeling, but his momentary surprise gives you the perfect opportunity to pull him closer.
to actually kiss him and avoid dying of any more teasing.
peters smile is evident against your lips, but he doesn’t move away, and his breath meets your own in gentle strokes.
his hand is smooth as he tilts your chin up.
you can feel your own heartbeat, but peter takes his other hand so he can rest two fingers against your neck, feeling for your pulse.
you want to die at the feeling.
“interesting,” he says, his lips brushing yours.
you roll your eyes while they’re still closed, and hope that he can feel it. “shut up.”
peter laughs again, and guides you in short but tense kisses, like he’s trying to make sure that you’re still breathing.
he doesn’t budge when you try to force him closer.
and before you can get him to kiss you properly again, there’s a clearing of a throat, and a different kind of spike in your heartbeat.
a nurse stands behind peter, looking a bit uncomfortable.
peter moves away, swallowing, and greeting the nurse with a shake of his hand. she’s holding a clipboard and a juice box, giving the two of you a brief smile. “sorry to interrupt,” she says.
peter laughs and looks back at you with wide eyes.
you smile, then point at peter. “he’s trying to kill me.”
*
#ask#tasm peter x reader#andrew!spiderman#the amazing spider-man#peter parker#peter parker x reader#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#spider-man#the amazing spider man#spider man fic#tasm!peter x you#tasm!peter one shot#tasm!peter smut#tasm!peter parker#tasm!peter imagine#tasm!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter x reader#tasm!peter fanfiction#tasm!peter x y/n#tasm!peter fluff#tasm spiderman#tasm 2#tasm#marvel fanfic#marvel
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Canon Sirius through quotes
Part 1. Appearance
In the canon, he's described as handsome 3 times from Harry's point of view - but never pretty. By the way, Harry has only described four people as handsome (+ Tom Riddle, Cedric Diggory and Gellert Grindelwald).
"Sirius was tall and handsome. He loped with an easy grace, his hands in his pockets and a grin on his face."
"Beside him was Sirius, carelessly handsome, his slightly arrogant face so much younger and happier than Harry had ever seen it alive."
"Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so."
"Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James’s nor Harry’s could ever have achieved, and a girl sitting behind him was eyeing him hopefully, though he didn’t seem to have noticed."
"He's still handsome, isn't he, even after Azkaban?" (Tonks about Sirius, Pottermore)
So, Sirius was handsome, but definitely not pretty. The word handsome can be used for all genders, highlighting attributes like strength, elegance, or a more classic form of beauty.
His height is described as tall several times. James is described as the same height as Harry in the Deathly Hallows, meaning at the time of his death James was as tall as Harry in the 7th book: “James was exactly the same height as Harry”. He was described as tall in later books but not as tall as other characters like Dumbledore, Ron, Sirius, Draco, Tom Riddle, Bill.
In England, as in most Western countries, a man is usually considered tall if he is over 6 feet. Typically, very tall is considered to be 6 feet 3 inches and above. So, James could be somewhere from 6 to 6'3", and Sirius taller, say 6'3"-6'4", Remus possibly under 6', but not short, since Harry doesn't note his height at all.
"To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter, plump and watery-eyed, flushed with pleasure at his inclusion in this coolest of gangs, with the much admired rebels that James and Sirius had been."
The average head length of an adult, regardless of gender and age, usually about 8.7 to 9.8 inches. So, Peter was noticeably shorter.
6'3"-6'4" is indeed very tall. (When fanon gives Remus a height of 6.7, I wonder, have you often seen such giants in real life? My granddad is 6'8" – and he's huge to me, frighteningly so.)
After Azkaban and in the fifth book, he has long hair, but in the fourth book, when Sirius is doing well and is relaxing somewhere in the south, he has short hair.
"Sirius looked different – the hair was short and clean now, Sirius’ face was fuller, and he looked younger, much more like the only photograph Harry had of him, which had been taken at the Potters’ wedding."
"Sirius, when he still had short hair" (Moody about Sirius in the Order of the Phoenix photo)
Though in the story about Sirius and James for the auction, Sirius had long hair in 1977:
"The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter’s guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend."
I prefer him with long hair, so that's usually what I go with.
Build isn't described. We know Regulus was definitely smaller than Sirius, but nothing specific about Sirius himself.
"Regulus was instantly recognisable as the boy sitting in the middle of the front row: he had the same dark hair and slightly haughty look of his brother, though he was smaller, slighter and rather less handsome than Sirius had been."
His animagus form is a bear-like dog of huge size, but that’s a weak argument.
"The enormous, bear-like dog bounded forwards."
Perhaps canonically Sirius was naturally inclined to muscle (i.e., tall and muscular rather than lanky, because lankiness usually suggests skinniness. Regulus, likely, was lanky), but since he probably didn't engage in activities like workouts, he wasn't exactly buff. Muscles don't just appear out of thin air, but some people are naturally more muscular. Basically, a normal build that doesn't need any special description (not bulky, not skinny, just normal, but tall).
He definitely doesn’t have any tattoos described, but it's unlikely Harry would have inspected every part of his body for tattoos... So, I don’t quite get it when someone says "Sirius didn’t have tattoos". It's a blank slate.
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Bitten
Peter Parker x Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 1.6K
Synopsis: Peter’s body changes significantly after being bitten
Warnings: Angst, Smut, very fluffy, oral (F and M receiving), P in V, language
AN: Characters are aged up. Also, sorry this is one of my shorter ones, wanted to get a small blurb out before my long work. Not edited.
Peter before the spider bite:
You found yourself once again sitting in your boyfriends room watching as he messes with his new Star Wars lego set. “Babyyyyy, I’m boredddd.” You whine, hoping to get his attention after sitting on his bed for almost four hours just playing on your phone. Peter’s head shot up at your voice while a dorky smile spreads across his perfect lips.
“Well then, what would YOU like to do?” He asks while standing up to stretch.
You tap your chin and look up at the ceiling jokingly. “Probably you,” you tease. Peter’s eyes go wide, as shock paints his face.
“M-me?” He quivers with a terrified face before bursting into laughter with you.
“Oh my-just come over here you doof!” You giggle while holding your arms open. Peter quickly jumps into bed to join you, his lanky body slipping easily into your arms.
“Sooo…” Peter mumbles into your neck, “you really wanna do me?” He asks looking up at you and wiggling his eyebrows. You let out a laugh and nod, capturing Peters lips in your own.
“Take your cloths off lover boy,” you hum while sliding your own shirt off. Peter is quick to oblige, throwing his shirt to the side to reveal his small, and quite scrawny figure. You liked it though, after all, he was your Peter and your Peter was perfect. “I love your body you know that Pete?” You smile, leaning in to kiss his chest.
You watch as Peters cheeks flush a bright red, “R-really?” He laughs nervously.
You wrap your arms around him quickly mumbling a “I love it more than anything, you’re so sexy,” into his chest. Peter laughs again before crawling out of your lap to help you pull off your shorts.
“Well I, I love your body too,” He beams as he throws your underwear onto his desk.
“Peter!” You gasp as you feel him bury his head between your thighs. His tongue slowly licking between your folds and grazing your clit. Arching your back, you lightly grab ahold of Peters hair, admiring the way he looked between your thighs. You could already feel the pleasurable sensation of your orgasm creeping up on you, the feeling making your muscles tense and your insides feel warm and fuzzy. “Fuck, babe I’m close,” your moan, grip tightening on Peter’s messy curls. His tongue swirled around your clit a few more times before you felt yourself release, grinding your hips as you finish. Peter smiles, popping up and giving you a sloppy kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue and lips. “Your turn,” You hum, flipping you and Peter over so he was now propped up on the pillows.
Peter let out a small moan as you toy with the zipper of his jeans, truthfully struggling to get them off. Peter lifts his hips, allowing you enough room to discard both his pants and boxers. A smile plays on your lips as your hand slowly strokes his cock. He was around 6 inches and fit just about perfectly in your mouth. You found yourself admiring his aching cock as you lay down on your tummy, eagerly taking him in your mouth. Peter let out a gasp as you bob your head, enjoying the feeling oh him hitting the back of your throat. “N-not too m-much uuuhh longer, I’m-I’m already close,” Peter stutterers, feeling his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. You slowly remove your mouth from him, making a loud popping sound as he flew out of your mouth completely.
“Ready?” You hum, as you sat up and position yourself on top of him. Peter nodded quickly, squeezing your tits as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. “Oh-fuck Peter,” You moan, throwing your head back as you slowly slid up and down his hard cock. “Fuck you feel so good, you-fuck-you fill me so well,” You whine as you continue to bounce. You place your hands on his smooth chest to balance yourself, before slowly grasping onto his shoulders.
You continue to ride him, loving the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. “I-I’m close Y/N,” Peter moans , bucking his hips up into yours. Within a few minutes Peter was pulling out of you and finishing on his stomach while you helped him clean up.
When you find out about the spider bite:
“Peter what the fuck,” You gasp, staring at your mostly naked boyfriend standing in the middle of his room.
Peter’s head snaps to the now open door, staring at you like he had just committed a crime. “Y/N…I don’t know what’s going on with me.” Peter’s voice cracks. Your eyes skim his now extremely muscular body, with his new set of abs, broad shoulders, and thick arms. “Y/N, I don’t know what to do,” Peter cries, feeling suddenly out of place in his new body.
“Hey, it’s okay, do you know what happened babe?” You ask softly, as you close the door and begin to approach Peters crying figure. Your arms wrap around him, embracing him in a tight hug. His arms squeeze you, and you became suddenly hyper aware of just how strong his grip was and how every one of his muscles felt against your bare arms.
Peter heaved a few more sobs before sitting down onto the bed with you. “Remember that spider exhibit I went to visit a few days ago? The one you refused to go to with me?” Peter asked, his red puffy eyes staring into yours.
You nod, touching his face and replying with a soft “Yes.”
“Well,” Peter sighs, “One of the spiders was missing from it’s compartment, and while I was there I felt a sharp bite on my neck, and the next thing I know I can see and hear things so much better. I can stick to the wall! I’ve gotten bigger…everywhere! And I’m hungry and sweaty and I feel amazing yet so sick at the same time.” He rambles.
“So wait…you’re telling me that you got bitten by a radioactive spider and are now some bulky ass man who has like super hearing?” You ask furrowing your eyebrows.
“Yes…?” Peter replies sucking in another breath.
“Okay…wait…did you say sticking to walls?”
Peter with the spider bite:
You and Peter had been adjusting to the new spider bite for about three weeks now, trying to figure out all the new things Peter could do along with helping him get used to experiencing his new and enhanced senses, oh, and the Peter tingle. You both had been so wrapped up in figuring stuff out it was only now as you were laying in Peters bed on a rather warm day that you realize neither of you have had sex for over a month. In fact, the last time you saw Peter even close to naked was the day you found out about the spider bite and he was just in a pair of boxers. Since then he seems so nervous to even take his shirt off around you.
“Hey Peter?” You ask turning to your boyfriend who is hiding in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on an almost 90 degree day. “You can take off your sweatshirt you know? I don’t bite, unless you want me to.” You tease, tugging at the warm material of his sweatshirt.
“I’m cold,” Peter lies, still looking at his phone.
“Peter?” You ask again, finally getting Peter to turn to you. “Why won’t you let me see your body anymore?” You finish quietly.
Peter frowns, realizing that you’d finally noticed his hesitation to let you see him with nothing on. “I’m scared,” he answers honestly. “You’d always tell me how much you loved the way I looked, and how you liked my build before, all of that, and now I look different. I know that typically people favor a more muscular build but what if you don’t? What if you only like what I used to look like?”
You stare at Peter for a moment before a warm smile spread across your pink lips. “Oh, Peter,” you sigh, sitting up and fully turning toward him. You gently cup his face with your palm, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Of course I loved your body before, but I love it now too. I really don’t care what your build is sweetheart, I just care that you’re my Peter. I fell in love with your goofy smile and your absurd jokes, not your body after some hookup. Besides, bodies change, mines changed since we’ve met, and you still love mine.” You smile kissing his lips softly.
“You’re right” Peter sighs pulling away from the kiss. “I was just so worried you’d view me differently,” he mumbles.
“I know, but hey, I’m going to love you regardless,”
“Okay good because I’m about to die of heat,” Peter groans slipping off his sweatshirt followed by his sweatpants and boxers. His naked boy lays spread out across the sheets, radiating previously trapped heat.
You let out a laugh, slowly running your hand up his muscular chest. “You look hot babes,” You tease, slowly massaging his right shoulder.
“I am hot, I am sweating, look at me!” Peter groans again.
“I meant you’re like sexy hot,” You giggle, running your hand down his arm. “But i could make you even hotter if you want,” You wink at him.
Peter raised an eyebrow at you, feeling blood rush down to his now hardening cock. “It that so?” he asks with a small smirk. “I mean, it has been forever,” he admits, rolling onto his side to face you.
You hum, placing a kiss to his lips before scanning his body again. “Um Peter…” you ask slowly.
“Yes love?” He asks slowly placing his hand on your thigh.
“D-did your dick get bigger?” You laugh nervously remembering just how much it already filled you up before.
“Yeah, extra two inches, wanna try it out?” Peter winks, before tackling you onto his soft mattress.
+++
TAGLIST
#peter parker spiderman#peter parker#peter parker oneshot#peter parker smut#peter parker imagine#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x you#mcu fandom#mcu smut#peter marker mcu#mcu peter parker x reader#mcu peter parker#peter parker x y/n smut#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x plus size reader smut#peter parker x plus size reader#peter parker x fem!reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker angst#peter parker x reader smut#peter parker x stark!reader#mcu fanfiction#mcu#mcu x reader#mcu fanfic rec#peter parker marvel#marvel#mcu peter#peter parker x reader angst
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I just did an ab workout and it fucking sucked ass
But as a result… may I raise you, workout out with Peter
It’s a need!
*cleaning out my inbox*
peter’s strength…. so yummy 🤤
you knew exactly what you were doing, but peter didn’t. ‘i bet you couldn’t bench two fifty.’
he’s insulted to say the least. ‘i’m sorry, trouble. you said what?’ because there’s no way you just told him that.
‘i bet you couldn’t bench two fifty. you’re strong, but not that strong.’ peter scoffs, ‘i don’t think you realize how light two fifty is.’
you quirk an eyebrow, ‘oh really? i’d take you up on that bet.’ it’ll be the easiest bet of his entire life. ‘deal. i’ll take you to the gym with me next time, then you can see for yourself.’
that’s how you ended up watching peter grunt under the weighted bar, he’s got three twenty and he’s going so smooth he doesn’t need a spot, but you’re still there just in case. it’s not like you’d be any real help if shit went south.
‘is this your max?’ your words make peter laugh, like your question was adorable. ‘not even close.’ okay, maybe you thought he was stronger than what you originally teased. but him barely sweating at over three hundred pounds has you truly questioning his strength.
‘do you even have a max?’ there’s no way he could bench much more, he doesn’t have the muscle mass to back it up. not that he’s lean, but he’s no body builder either.
‘haven’t found one, no.’ the bar slams down, it bends under the force on each side. ‘there’s no way. i may have been exaggerating at first but you’re not mr. strongman.’
peter’s eyebrow raises like you just challenged him, you didn’t, but he took it as one. ‘wanna bet? give me a number.’
‘four fifty.’ an egregious amount but peter just nods and starts collecting more plates. the second his hands wrap around the bar you stop him, you didn’t want him over performing for your sake. if he hurt himself trying to impress you, you’d never forgive yourself for pushing him to that place.
‘you don’t have to. i believe you.’
peter fingers grip the steel, ‘it’s okay, i can do it.’ you slap his hands away, ‘no, really. don’t do it.’ you don’t care what expression he’s looking up at you with, you refuse to allow him.
‘you’re the one that gave me the number, trouble.’
‘because you were supposed to say no! don’t hurt yourself over this, i’m already impressed.’
peter clicks his tongue, disappointed you’d think of him so shallow. ‘i want to make you impressed at every chance, but i’m not gonna be stupid about it. if i couldn’t do it, id tell you.’
it’s not good enough, it’s a clear expression. peter immediately eats his words, he’s about to show off because you don’t believe him. the second the bar raises off the handle your teeth clench, you peer around the room and familiarize yourself with a very muscled man in the corner of the room. just in case.
no need, peter’s doing it with ease. he’s breathing hard, strained grunts pull from the back of his throat. he can bench it, but it’s not as easy as three hundred.
after four presses you can’t handle it, ‘okay, okay, okay! please stop.’ your hand hovers underneath the bar when it slams into the handle.
peter teases you when he rises from the padding. ‘you could never be the girlfriend of an athlete. what would you do if i broke my leg while drag racing?’
‘kill myself, i dunno.’
peter’s sweating across his hairline, his skin tacky under your touch. he shakes it off, ‘i’m hot.’ you wink, ‘yeah, you are.’
‘next time, just tell me you wanna see me workout. you don’t have to make up numbers, trouble.’
you play offended, ‘i did no such thing.’
‘you didn’t touch a single machine here.’
‘i was emotional support.’
‘i was eye candy, that’s it.’
your arms wrap around his waist, his back damp under your palm. ‘and you are so, so, so yummy. can i take you home and eat you?’
a glare from peter, ‘isn’t that my job?’
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