#benji babbles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cum-a-calla · 2 months ago

Text

Rivalry

being casually involved with both Benji Kaplan and Roman Roy becomes much more complicated and entangled than anyone could have foreseen.

under the cut: bits of fluff, extremely toxic banter, fingerfucking, oral sex of all kinds, PIV sex, dubcon/noncon elements, light daddy kink, forced orgasms, extremely derogatory name-calling/treatment of a partner, alcohol mention, smokin weed, being recorded without permission, being forced to watch, cum swallowing of all kinds, emotional manipulation at its finest.

important note: there are mentions in this story to this thing that i babbled about a while back, and is somewhat integral to part of the story; i recommend giving it a skim.

“Hey - look what I found on the side of the road, at a - a Starbucks? Yeesh. I thought you were, like… volunteering for the homeless today.” Roman startles you from behind, his spidery fingers clenching playfully into your shoulders as he bends down to bury his nose in your hair. He moans a little in your ear, giggling in his way. “Ugh, you smell good. Scared you, didn’t I?”

“Jesus, Rome. Dickhead. I told you I was hanging out with Benji.” You sip your coffee (if it can really even be called that in the first place) and stare up at him as he stands beside your seat at a little table outside. It’s nice out, the sky a big bright blue with lazy streaks of clouds, little puffs here and there. There was no hesitation in texting Benji to go play outside - grab a coffee, bring a joint or two in your bag, and walk around downtown a little bit.

Roman scoffs, grabbing your cup and obnoxiously licking the opening of the lid before taking a drink. He makes a face as he hands it back, shuddering in mock disgust.

“Right. That’s what I said. Benji - the homeless little mutt you keep babysitting, or whatever it is you two do. Your little chocolate shake here tastes like burnt fuckin’ Oreos. You’re a grownup, for fuck’s sake.”

“You love Starbucks,” you mumble, yanking your cup back and sipping from it. Roman’s eyes flicker to where your lips touch where his were a moment ago, where he licked your cup, and there’s a hint of satisfaction in his spreading smirk. “Also, don’t be rude. Benji’s —”

“Right here,” Benji interjects, coming back to the table. He eyes Roman with curiosity and smiles at you, taking a moment to look between the both of you before his features open up as it dawns on him, eyebrows raised, pointing at Roman. “Oh, fuck. It’s him, right? Roman. Yeah, we do kinda resemble each other, I can… I can see it. That’s nuts.”

“She talks about me, huh?” Roman’s smirk melts into a sneaky little grin at you before returning his attentions to Benji, eyes flicking over his appearance, making mental notes. You’ve seen this look a million times - he’s picking apart, analyzing. Storing potential ammo. Making quick, ruthless judgments. “Don’t believe we’ve ever met, though, champ. Think I’d remember meeting someone like… you. Honestly, any resemblance at all is a compliment to you and a slight to me, so…

Benji rolls his eyes, humming as he turns toward his coffee. “Well, this is fun.”

“Okay, Roman,” you warn mildly. “You go take a nap somewhere and I’ll text you later, yeah?”

Roman’s jaw twitches and he shoots you a look, something that resolves almost as soon as it appears in the first place. Roman smiles and it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Just chatting with your new little friend, sweetheart. But sure, yeah, hang out with my - my stunt double, here. You do kinda have that whole haggard look going for you. Except instead of actually working in Hollywood or whatever you - I dunno… operate a cash register in a headshop, or something.”

Benji laughs, genuinely, the sound like bells in the soft, warm breeze. It makes you smile, it’s infectious and silly. He runs his fingers through his hair and slouches back in his seat, relaxed, regarding his abrasive doppelganger as Roman pulls his phone out. It vibrates audibly in his fingers and Roman mutters something under his breath, his brow pinched as he takes in the caller’s name. Benji smiles an easy, shit-eating smile, smug in its own right.

“Busy guy, I bet. Phone’s probably always going off - that sucks, man,” Benji says mildly, eyes glittering at Roman. He laughs again, a tiny snatch of a snicker as he lifts his coffee cup. “You get a lot of crazy calls in your line of business, Roman? You ever - you get any interesting texts lately…? Pictures, maybe, or… videos…?”

Roman’s thumb hovers over the button on his phone to receive the call and he glares at Benji, jaw clenched. It’s rare to see him pissed off enough to stay silent for longer than a few seconds, but he does, phone still buzzing in his hand. For a moment, you think he might actually flip out; you’ve seen Roman go off for way less. That vein in his forehead pulses and his lip curls into a sneer.

“Gotta take this. Grownup business,” he spits at Benji. He puts the phone to his ear and turns on his heel, giving you a parting look that feels almost dangerous. A warning. He snaps his fingers and points at Benji on his way back down the sidewalk. “Teach your fucking dog how to heel. Should get that thing a muzzle.”

The rest of the day goes by exactly as you’d hoped it would - sweet, fun, relaxing. You and Benji swap all kinds of stories, little snippets of each others’ lives and interests, the strange, random things that pass your minds. He’s so beautiful this way, carefree and throwing his head back to laugh, sharing little trail snacks with you when you’re both pleasantly stoned and making up stories about what kinds of people live in the various homes and apartments you wander by. Benji’s really good with direction - he remembers which streets you’ve circled back to, how to get back to where you started.

It feels natural to hold his hand - Roman could never. Benji’s affectionate, constantly reaching out even to hook pinkies, to tickle the inside of your palm real quick when he wants to show you something, bumping his shoulder to yours just because. He reaches out and moves your hair. Kisses the tip of your nose and scrunches his face up when you return the gesture.

Roman’s affectionate in his own ways, in Roman ways that don’t translate to normal physical affection. He likes to guide you - if he could glue his hand to the small of your back, he would. If he could make a home for his fingers on the back of your neck, he would. Touch belongs in a different category for Roman - he uses it to possess you. Groping in public, studying every little flicker of change in your expression when he’s pleasing (or hurting) you. His hands are tools where Benji’s are offerings.

The day takes you both to Forest Park in Woodhaven. Not too long outside the belly of the city (disregarding traffic, of course), you find yourselves traipsing and smoking along the trails. Benji is smiling, the sun is mild and the air pleasantly warm. The shafts of light shooting through the canopies of trees as you get deeper into the trail is devastating - it lights him up, his hair suddenly on fire, shot through with those sneaky grays. Sparkling. His eyes get caught in such a shaft of light, one in, one out, and the illuminated eye glimmers. You can see every little spot of brown, of gold and green. Like an agate. He offers a joint to you, pressing it up to your lips, and you can’t say anything. You simply accept his touch and stare into his eyes. His expression shifts, and he’s staring at your lips, now, watching the smoke stream through your lopsided, silly smile. He takes another hit, deep, pulling as long as he can with those eyes on yours.

He hums and motions to you, and it takes no further conversation - you lean into him and he kisses you, long, sweet, nudging your mouth open with his tongue so you can accept his breath into your lungs. You work your fingers into his shirt, tugging it as it bunches. You want this to last forever, the eternal flow of his breath filling you up. You want everything he has to offer.

Pulling away light-headed, Benji’s all smirk. It’s not cutting, not mean. It’s just his mouth, so stark in its similarity to Roman’s and so wildly different. The same gesture, the same facial structure, and that’s where it ends.

Benji shoves his hands into his pockets, but not before you see it - how hard he is. He hides it the best he can, pushing it silently down as you continue walking for a bit. There’s sort of a trail in the grass to the side, a bunch of it flattened and worn sparse by foot traffic - it’s hard to tell for sure from here, but it looks like it leads to a little clearing somewhere deeper beyond the treeline. You point it out, lifting an eyebrow. Benji pauses and smiles, nodding, taking your hand as you both traverse off the trail.

It’s gorgeous. The sun dapples over the both of you as you giggle, Benji squeezing your fingers between his, and within minutes you’re both on the edge of an open, meadowy area, dotted generously with dandelions and bluebells. It’s heavily shaded, and although you’re only maybe a dozen yards from the trail, it feels so… secluded. Like you’re the only two people in this little pocket universe.

Your turn to Benji and, vibrating on the same wavelength, the rest comes wordlessly and naturally as ever. He sheds his backpack and you do the same, his lips on yours, his hands on your hips as he backs you against a tree. His mouth is so warm, the both of you all minty from the gum you’ve been using to stave off cottonmouth.

He’s humming and moaning softly into your mouth and you swallow each sweet sound just to echo them back. The both of you, a buzzing, tantalizing force in the world. Your own private moment. Time may as well stop existing beyond the line of trees, because this is all there is - Benji’s lips, his flushed skin and charmingly impatient hands. He pushes one eager hand below the waistband of your pants and moans when he finds you wet, rubbing your clit, pushing deeper to push two fingers inside your cunt. He does something - almost a tap, kind of, a quick, gentle movement as he massages inside of you. Tap-tap. Tap-tap. It’s easy to roll your hips a little, humping against his hand while he licks your throat and hums against the taste of your sweat.

“Wait - wait,” you whisper feverishly, sinking to your knees in the dirt and grass. Benji watches you with a weak, reverent sigh, brows knit like he might come apart on the spot just watching you look up at him like that. Hooking your fingers into the band of his shorts, you pull them down his thighs, his cock bobbing readily out. Thick. Heavy. He shifts a little to rest a palm against the tree trunk, watching you lick and sloppily kiss the head. Oh, his little shudders, his sweet, keening moans.

“Mmfuuuuck,” he whines, hips twitching. He pets your hair as you take him over your tongue, working him deeper, deep enough to make you gag sweetly around him. He loves it. He gasps and groans and gently rocks into your throat. Just a little. Just a bit. Benji’s eyes glaze over and you run your fingers teasingly along his hairy thighs as he ruts into your mouth. His pubic hair is soft, tickling the top of your nose as he moves deeper. It’s natural to slide your hands around to feel the swell of his ass, kneading and squeezing where the curve of his ass meets the backs of his thighs. Delicious. He makes the most intoxicating sound as you grab him there, holding him close. Softly trapping him. He starts gasping as he nears orgasm - his cock swells over your tongue, the precursor to his own climax; you’re almost convinced you can feel the individual, throbbing veins that lie just under all that velvety flesh, trying to trace them with your undulating tongue. You work harder, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes as you purposely gag yourself, sucking, drooling, tongue working underneath all that rippled cockflesh as it throbs.

“Oh - oh, m—ohh my god…”

Benji’s voice draws up along with his balls, and that final, sensual feeling of his impossibly engorged cock fills your mouth before he erupts. Cum shoots and drips down the back of your throat in ropes, spurts that you swallow eagerly from him. His voice is a low, shaking mess of syllables - your name, pet names, words that start and then fade into helpless little sounds as he milks himself empty. That’s your favorite part - the sounds. So unabashedly caught up in the pleasure, reduced to a shaky, whiny mess for you.

You unfold your legs, knees uncomfortable, and giggle with him as you pull away and sit on your ass, leaning up against the tree. Wiping your mouth, you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he laughs breathlessly, tucking himself back into his shorts.

“Thank you for that,” he mumbles.

“It’s my pleasure. Little… uh, trail snack.”

“Little, huh?”

“Oh, fuck off,” you laugh as he winks, his grin infectious. “You’re dumb.”

“Mmm. Dumb? Me? That’s a shame,” he sighs, coming down to your level. He slithers between your outstretched legs and leans in to kiss you, the taste of his cum still on your tongue. “I guess a dumb guy wouldn’t know exactly what to do with you right now.”

“Well - well… what would a smart guy do with me right now? Just curious.”

“Aw, didn’t you hear? Curiosity killed that cat. Bummer.”

“No!” You playfully slap his bicep as he slips his fingers under your waistband again. “Satisfaction brought it back, ya dick.”

“Well, if satisfaction’s the case…” Benji slowly pulls your pants down and drinks in your embarrassment, your pretend little protests as he looks dreamily on. He gets down on his belly like a snake, like the serpent in the garden, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. He stares at your bare cunt, swollen and slick for him. You could have gone without being touched - tasting him is enough. But here he is, pushing your thighs apart so he can lie in that grass, the dirt and moss and errant leaves. He hooks his arms underneath your legs and reaches up to tickle the generous flesh at your hips while he kisses your cunt, over and over, slow and tantalizingly soft.

Finally his tongue delves between your lips, parted so nicely for him. Considerate. Polite, even. He hums and moans, and again you’re forced to reckon with the difference, the whisper in the back of your mind - Roman wouldn’t do this. If it wasn’t something he wanted to do for himself, he wouldn’t do it. If he’d already blown his load, he wouldn’t bother touching you at all unless he was feeling particularly cruel - making it bad; that’s what he calls it. I’m going to make this fucking bad for you, slut.

Benji’s soft lips, his tongue and teasing fingers… after spending so much time kissing him, tasting and swallowing his cum, you’re already getting close. The trees around you sway just so in the breeze, the leaves shimmering and shaking in the sun. The grass bows gracefully under that slight wind. It goes in rippling waves, birds chattering above your heads. Pot makes your mind deliciously slow, and all of this comes in rhythmic waves of thought, of sensation, much like the ebb and flow of pleasure that Benji gives you. Inching closer and closer to that edge, staring over it. The precipice shimmers ahead, and Benji’s practiced, thoughtful tongue is working its magic. He’s never in a hurry. Always so present, so happy to take the time. You buck a little against his face and he hums a half-laugh.

“Benji,” you whisper. A glance down between your thighs treats you to his lidded, sexy eyes, the sharp blade of his nose in the plush flesh of your mound, knowing his lips and tongue are making you feel this good. You squeeze your eyes shut and crane your neck back, fingers finding his wrists to grasp them. He shakes you off and instead laces your fingers together, and you allow yourself to fall entirely into his mercy. Each lap of his tongue against your clit is electric. You ride the waves and rock your hips, pointing your toes, trapping him between your thighs as you squeeze them around his head. God, you could suffocate him there.

His name is carried on the quiet little moans you make and snatched up by the light wind as you hold his hands, giving completely over to him and his magic. In true Benji fashion, he licks at you well past the sparks, the fireworks, only stopping when you have to press against his forehead to push him away.

“Just a little - little more, just a - just a kiss,” he murmurs, moving cautiously back. If you push, he’ll stop. Overstimulated and stoned, riding on this bliss in the middle of a storybook meadow with your favorite tender man, you pull your hand back from his forehead to free him and he moans. His tongue, his lips. Licking you clean, until he’s ready to give up the ghost. Not a kiss - a prayer. Worship. Something he’s purely giving, expecting nothing. Happy just to lick your cum.

You both lie in the meadow together fully clothed after that, finishing a half-smoked joint and giggling, holding hands as you point out things you see, random thoughts that cross your mind. Coming down. Turning to look at him and finding him already looking at you, reaching out to trace the pad of your thumb down the bridge of his nose. Leaning in to kiss, so fucking soft. Running your hands idly over his chest, his soft tummy, feeling - fuck, feeling… almost - almost like you might be -

You push the thought gently away and keep it inside your chest, where it glows like embers, white-hot and flickering.

There’s a point where time has gone on too long. The pocket of magic seals up, and you both brush each other off and laugh, holding pinkies as you gather your little trail packs and meander back from where you came. Kissing goodbye. Watching him even when you’re getting into your car, waiting for him to drive off first, feeling like you can’t miss a single moment. Tucking them away in your heart like it’s less an organ and more a locket, stuffing little mental photographs in there, hints of sensation, snatches of audio from your day. The sunlight glinting off his hair. Fuck.

Just as promised, you do get a hold of Roman on your way home, as evening approaches. He’s bitchy and short in his communications, but he wants to meet up, so it’s only a matter of time before you find yourself at his doorstep. He lets you in with lidded red eyes and a crooked grin. He’s drunk. Great.

“Come on in,” he drawls, pushing you with that ever-hovering hand on your lower back. “You guys have a nice time today? You… you uh, watch him fuck himself with a bong? Rub patchouli oil on your tits?”

“Already making me feel welcome. You’re so normal about it, aren’t you?”

Roman grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back, eyes focused despite being bloodshot. You can smell whiskey on his breath.

“You’re really fuckin’ adorable. I understand why that filthy little cuck wants to cum in all your holes, I do. Because I do, too. I do it harder… deeper… meaner. Right?” Roman rubs the tip of his nose along your cheek, traces it down before he tilts his head to bite your throat. “You don’t need nice. You need a firm fucking hand.”

“Roman, that - that hurts,” you whine, reaching back to grasp at the hand holding your hair. Roman uses his free hand to capture it, squeezing your wrist a little as a warning. His eyes glitter, all that dark inside of them threatening to swallow you whole. Your heart’s in your throat and seeing his blank glare, his smirk, feeling the way his fingers tremble almost imperceptibly sends it straight down into the basin of your pelvis, where it melts and pulses.

“We both know you like that,” he says quietly. He’s scary like this.

“I like a lot of things, Rome, come on. Please.”

“Oh, fuck off. You like a lot of things, huh? Spare me the fuckin’ act. What, you want me to be a crying little cuck baby for you? Yeah? You want me to treat your body like a sparkling, fragile fuckin’ temple, want me to love and respect you?”

Roman’s grip softens, then, and his expression melts a little. He tilts his head, thumb grazing your jaw, your cheek. He glances at your lips and swallows. His expression is almost foreign to you, and it takes you a moment to realize he looks… kind. Earnest. It’s so out of place that it catches you off guard, hypnotized by the softness of it.

“Hey. Is that what you need from me, hmm? To be gentle with you? Telling you how much I think about you, that I miss you when you’re not here? That maybe I’m kind of -” He pauses a beat and then he’s right there, lips ghosting against yours while he murmurs to you. “Maybe I’m kind of… falling in love with you a little bit?”

Your eyes slide shut as he barely kisses against your lips. He hums and you sink into it, heart hammering in your chest, fast, hard, nervous. The soft sound he makes breaks apart, then, splintering into cruel, satisfied laughter. You recoil and glare at him, cheeks flushing an angry, embarrassed red.

“Fuck you, Roman, that was - what the fuck is your problem?”

The vein in his forehead pulses as he giggles, his grin so utterly sadistic it makes you shiver. He winks and walks over to a side table where he’s kept his glass, draining the last sip of whiskey from it as his laughter tapers off.

“God, maybe you are that fuckin’ easy. I mean, don’t get me wrong… makes it all the more fun when I break you apart. You’re like a… like a stretch armstrong in that way. ‘Member those? I can just yank and bend and twist and pull and throw you the fuck around and you always come back to the same soft, pliant little toy that you are.” He shakes his head, lifting his eyebrows. He clears his throat and snaps his fingers, the sound of it sharp in the dead air of his penthouse. “All right. Strip. C’mon. Daddy’s been waiting, honey.”

Whiplash. It’s the only way to describe what you’re feeling right now, so electrically pissed off at Roman and yet unable to avoid feeling the thrum in your cunt when he starts giving you those predatory eyes, licking his lips. The way his smirk starts to slide right off his face the longer you’re not listening to him; the utter disbelief in the twitch of his brow. He takes a step forward and, to your own horrified embarrassment, you take a step back. He smiles again.

“The longer you fuck around, the worse it’s gunna be for you. Is that what you want tonight…? Yeah? After all that fuckin’ hand-holding today, huh, you need - you need a real man to give it to you the way you really need it?”

“Rome -”

“Mm-mmm. Not Rome. Not anything. I don’t want you to talk unless I ask you to, got it? Now get. Fucking. Undressed. Now.”

This time, it’s easier to listen. There’s the dichotomy - he’s being mean, he’s being awful. He’s being controlling and expectant, and despite what he promises or threatens, you know it’s going to hurt, anyway… and it’s exciting. It excites you very much, in fact, and all these things mingle down in your belly. Heat. Anticipation. Anger, fear, anxiety.

Guilt.

Benji wouldn’t do this. It doesn’t matter - they’re not even two sides to the same coin. They’re different forms of currency altogether. Roman, a sleek, dangerously tempting black card somewhere, exclusive and cold. Hard-won, a slippery slope. Benji, a crumpled twenty you find at random - in a cash return slot by accident, in the street, an extra bill given to you by mistake that you don’t notice until you’ve already returned home. A surprise, a happy coincidence.

Roman doesn’t take the time to savor your nakedness, the way your nipples harden up and goosebumps chase over your arms. The way your pupils yawn open for him - not as scary as his are, but enough. Roman’s eyes go over your form with a feral kind of hunger. There’s no softness, no appreciation. Only a stark need for satisfaction. His cock is hard in his slacks, painfully so; you can see it twitching.

It’s only a matter of minutes, if that. Roman moves in for the kill and he swings you around until he’s practically dragging you to his bedroom, shoving you so that you splay clumsily, prettily out for him, all fucking scared and excited like the trapped animal you are. He tosses your clothing on the carpet next to the bed, mindlessly palming the stiff length of his cock through the fabric and hissing with pleasure through those clenched teeth of his. He grins wolfishly, all teeth and sharp, wet canines, and unbuttons his shirt with a quick and effortless grace that takes your breath away. Nimble fingers, cascading down that line of loops and shining little buttons. He shrugs out of his shirt and tosses it aside, undoing his belt, all slim and soft and pale, lip twitching as he crawls across the bed.

��You’re being a very good girl for me, you know that, sweetheart?” His voice is so tender. A mockery. He cages you underneath his body, his arms on either side of your shoulders. He leans down to drag the flat of his tongue up your cheek in a wet stripe. “It’s not gunna save you from any pain, but… it’s nice, nonetheless.”

He laughs as he reaches down to fully unbutton and unzip and push his slacks down his thighs. There it is - god, he’s fucking hard. Harder than usual, flushed almost angrily as he pushes between your thighs.

“Did he touch you today?” He edges the head in and out of your traitorously wet pussy in slow, shallow pumps. “Focus. Did he fucking touch you today?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah?” Roman grunts, and in a blinding moment he’s suddenly fully sheathed inside your cunt. You make an awful sound as you claw your way back up the mattress, but Roman’s having none of that - he yanks you right back down where you belong, underneath him and at his express mercy, leveling you with his cold eyes and the tic in his jaw. His cock pushes against your cervix and he forces himself to stay there, pulsing. “How?”

“Fuck!! F-fuck, Roman, I - I’m not just gunna -”

Roman takes the barest hint of a breath as he rears back, pounding his cock back into your body so that you can barely catch your breath. It hurts, it fucking HURTS. He does it again, and again, rocking up against you with his dead eyes, grinding balls-deep until you’re digging your nails into his biceps, his shoulders, his back. He notices none of it, so many mosquitos against a titan.

“You are. You are gunna. Tell me what he did to you, sweet girl,” he says, voice so unlike him. Syrupy, smooth. Kind. “What you did to him, even. And - and did you, sweetheart? Do anything to him? Huh?”

“Please, Rome…”

“No. Listen, if you don’t start fucking talking, I’m going to actually hurt you. You get that, right?” Roman searches both your eyes with a hint of a smile. It’s not even a smirk - his lip curls coyly into that little, tight smile, and all you can think of is an animal deciding whether to play with its dinner first or outright eat it. “You believe me, honey?”

You nod immediately, but this response earns you a twitch of his eyebrow and you’re babbling to him, yes yes I believe you sorry yes Roman I believe you, not wanting him to decide what actual pain is. He has to know he’s already hurting you, right…?

“Good. Good fuckin’ girl. Now,” he says, taking your face into his hand. He squeezes his fingers into the hollows of your cheeks, uncomfortable as the way he’s still got his dick jammed up against your cervix. “He touched you. Did he touch you… here?”

Roman skates his palm up your body, plucking at your nipple with slow, firm fingers until it’s peaking for him. You shake your head no, and Roman’s eyebrows rise a little in surprise.

“Straight to the pussy, huh? Wow. Bold. That, or you’re just really, really easy. Is that the thing? You’re just a fuckin’ slut? He finger your little pussy for you?”

“Mm - yeah,” you mumble, uncomfortably turned on.

“Did you cum?”

“No, not -”

“Aw, no? Your dog too old to learn new tricks?”

“Not from that,” you finish bitterly, taking pleasure in correcting him. “Didn’t cum from that.”

Roman’s smile wipes off his face and he pinches your nipple hard enough that it really hurts - you cry out and he keeps his fingers on your face, holding you there while he leans down to trace the throbs of pain in your nipple with his tongue. He lavishes it with a sweetness that is unlike him, sucking softly with his lips. Nibbling. Soothing. Humming against you, blowing cool air on your wet nipple so that you shiver underneath him.

“What did he do to make you cum, slut?”

“His - he… used his mouth.”

Roman saws his hips back and forth, the pace tempered but the depth unchanged. He slides back into your throbbing cunt until he’s pushing too deep, bottoming out. If there’s one thing Roman does that is unlike anyone you’ve ever met, it’s knowing how to parse out his cruelty and make you believe that you want and deserve it.

“And his cock?”

“Um… like - not… not there,” you stammer, suddenly so fucking shy under Roman’s magnifying glass. Shy isn’t even the right word - nervous. Afraid. Roman huffs an impatient breath and glares at you, any hint of calm shattered.

“Not in your pussy, huh? I know he didn’t fuck your ass in the middle of the goddamn park, so that leaves your mouth, right? You, uh -” Roman releases your face with a hint of disgust in his features, pulling his fingers away like he’s touched something rancid. “You swallow his load and everything? Yeah?”

Blinking back a film of tears, you nod. The heady combination of fear, arousal, obedience… it roils around in your belly, that sense of uncertainty. Roman is an unpredictable and fickle man. He wants what he wants, until he wants something else more. The trajectory is ever-changing.

“So. So you guys took a little stroll in the park, he got you all fuckin’ stupid-high, and he fucked your mouth before he ate your little pussy. Do I have it right so far? Missing anything?”

“No, that’s - that’s right,” you whimper. Again, his hips, moving so slow. He shifts himself a little to nudge over and over into that sweet, soft spot an inch or so inside your pussy, studying the way your lips part and the wetness of your tears glittering on your lashes. You feel like a specimen in a petri dish, Roman staring and poking and taking mental notes. Touch here, it does this. Poke there, look at it wriggle.

Roman yanks his hips back and flips you over, the feeling of that sudden, harsh emptiness making you cry out.

Even in your surprise, you hurry to comply - staying movable, changeable for him. Whatever he wants. Your cunt pulses, so fucking empty, so achy. Roman’s sliding his cock back inside of you and the mood has changed. He’s back to being rough, digging his fingers into your flesh and pounding into you, punishing you, grunting with each horrible thrust. It’s easier to fuck up against your cervix this way, easier to lean over you to press your head against the mattress.

Against all else, you do what your body does best - sink into that horrible, cloying heat, the way his viciousness sets you on fire. It’s inevitable. Each brutal kiss against your cervix makes you moan and claw at the sheets, makes you whine and wail. God, does it make him hard watching you suffer like that, so lovely and broken down. He watches a tear slip from your eye and trail over the bridge of your nose, watches your face flush bright red. Wrecked. Just for him, all for him - does Benji get to see this side of you? The pathetic one, the one that cries for him to hurt you, that cums for him without him having to do anything but treat you like his lesser? That’s what you are, right? Beneath him. Physically, socially, sexually.

“Fuckin’ slut,” he hisses quietly. “You know, I know you and Benji enjoy a good call - right? I think we should indulge him. Don’t you, honey? It’s only fair.”

Your heart pounds in your ears, dread filling you up nearly as much as Roman does. He removes his hand from your head and you try to peer back at him - he’s got your phone. When the fuck did he get that? Roman eyes you and smirks.

“Uh oh - it’s ringing. Oh no,” Roman singsongs, speeding up his thrusts. He fucks you in a way he knows you can’t handle, and you’re pulling at the sheets again, gasping and trying to hold your breath, trying to distance yourself. Roman knows this game. He knows you’re squarely and certainly fucked, that all he has to do is let you think you can wriggle away, just to follow you til your head’s butting against the fucking wall and there’s nowhere left to go. He likes that. Watching you lose every goddamn brain cell you have to the pain only he can give you. Forcing you to cum from it, to take it. “Can’t wait to see what your little - oh! Hey, you fucking mutt! How the fuck are you?”

Benji’s voice comes out all tinny, filtered through your phone’s speaker. Roman turns the volume all the way up as he looks down into Benji’s face on the screen, a horrible grin splitting his lips.

“Um - yeah, hey… is there a reason you’re calling me on her phone…?”

“Oh, don’t get all possessive on me, Benji. After all, we share such a special thing together, right? Huh, buddy? And speaking of, I’ve got her right here - wanna say hi?” Roman switches the screen and points it at you, guides Benji visually over your arched spine and to your face, where you hide behind your hands. “Aw, honey, don’t be shy. C’mon. Bark for Benji. Fucking bark.”

“Roman, no -”

Roman buries his free hand into your hair and yanks your head back. Benji’s face changes, then, tense and - what is that - worried…? Roman laughs a little at this, at how fucking serious this guy is.

“‘Roman, yes’, you mean. Bark.”

Humiliated, eyes squeezed shut, you bark. It comes out weak, embarrassed little sounds you make just to get Roman to stop, just so he can get it out of his system.

“Dude, this is - like, what the fuck. Don’t make her do that shit,” Benji says, his tone betraying his anxiety. Roman balks at this, his laugh so utterly sadistic it makes you shudder underneath him, a hint of a moan creeping up your throat.

“She fucking likes it. Don’t worry, Banjo, this is just what Daddy does to your fuckin’ Mommy when you’re not around. I just wanted you to see for yourself, kinda - mmm, kinda returning the favor, yeah? Did you know she’s like this? Huh? You know if you ram your dick right up into her as deep as it goes, like if you really grind into her fuckin’ cervix, she bleats like a slaughtered little lamb for you? Maybe your dick doesn’t go that deep. She ever make these noises for you? Or just for Daddy?”

You feel a ripple of pleasure surge through your core and it takes every ounce of effort you have to cover your own mouth and let it pass through you, not wanting to give Roman the reaction he wants. He gives your hair another yank and you cry out, cunt pulsing against his thick cock, the way he splits you open on it.

“Fuck, yeah. Cum for Daddy, you useless fucking hole. Let’s all fuckin’ hear it.”

“Don’t fucking say that to her -”

“Oh Jesus Christ, save it,” Roman grunts, fucking you even harder. Each miserable sound you make has Roman closer and closer to filling you up. He can’t wait. His fucking balls ache, full of that delicious pressure. Showing Benji what he does to you, forcing him to watch while he forces you to take it and cum on it against your will - Roman could cum now, give it up and call it a day. But it’s too good, and Roman can’t let this slip out of his fingers. He stares right at Benji’s image in your phone, his eyes all lidded and hot, smiling, so utterly pleased with himself he could giggle. And he does. “It makes her cum hard - don’t even gotta bother with her clit. But you’ve got that covered under our, uh - our cunt custody agreement, right? Always fuckin’ slobbering on it. You’ve got all the nice guy shit covered, so she can come home to Daddy and get railed til she’s screaming. Honestly, you’re saving me some work, so, thanks. I should - mmm, fuuuck - I should send you a gift basket or something.”

“This is really fucked up,” Benji mutters. Roman notes with a sense of pure, undiluted joy that Benji looks sick, he looks uncomfortable and - is he sad? Is he fucking sad? Oh, well that’s just delicious, isn’t it?

“Is it fucked up though? You hear her mewling like a dying fuckin’ kitten, right? Can you make her sound like that, asshole? You ever fuck her so hard she cries? I make her cry a lot, Benji, you white-knight cuck. Here, lemme - yeah, let’s fix the angle. Hey, sweetheart, talk to your little puppy for a minute.”

Roman shoves the phone into your hands and manhandles you, grabbing and squeezing until he has you flipped on your back again. He grabs the wrist of the hand you’re holding your phone in and raises it up so that Benji can see you, flushed, chin trembling, lips all plush and bitten, eyes cry-swollen and red.

Benji looks stressed out, his eyes going soft when he looks at you.

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I -”

Roman lines his cock up to your cunt again and plunges into you, taking your breath away. He digs his fingers into your flesh and squeezes, pounding into you in a way he knows drives you to the edge. His eyes glitter, his hair sweat-slicked and hanging in his face. He looks like a demon, watching you, his knowing smirk as you try your hardest to keep it together. You can’t, you just can’t.

“Ohh! Mmm - m’sorry, m’sorry, I’m - I’m fuh-fucking - sorry -” The apology is sincere, but it’s hard to reconcile that with the way you moan it, louder and louder, your pitch going up as your body starts to betray you. Everything pulses and tightens, every muscle helpless to Roman’s brutal attack on your sex.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, and it’s so easy to look at him, his kind smile, forced as it is. God, he’s beautiful. Roman is, too. Looking at both of their faces on the brink of orgasm is strange and feels wrong, so fucking wrong, feels needlessly cruel.

Roman grabs the phone, switches it so he can navigate your body with the camera. He focuses on where he fucks his thick cock in and out of your cunt, how hard he’s fucking you, and with a grin, he tips his hips juuust so.

“Watch this, Benji. Watch her go.” Roman’s nearly salivating as he watches Benji’s torn expression - he’s gotta be at least a little turned on by this, right? Roman’s nearly panting, so fucking excited he might blow his load before he’s ready. He focuses on your face, waiting until he can see the way you look like you’re in agony - you’re gunna cum. Oh, you’re gunna cum fucking hard. “Tell him you love him, honey. Tell Benji you love him while you cum, wouldn’t that be sooo nice?”

“No, no -”

Roman goes harder, a sound ripped from his chest like a wild animal. “Tell him now or I’ll make you regret it. Say, Benji, I love you. Say it while you cum all over my big fuckin’ dick, honey. Go on, tell your boyfriend you love him.”

Tears spilling down your temples, stomach twisting, you look into the little black eye of the camera in your phone and say it: “I l-love you, Be-Benji,” you sob.

Roman grunts as he rolls his hips, snaps them so that it hurts, oh god it hurts, and there it is. You clench and pulse and arch your spine, coming apart at the seams til you’re shaking. You squeeze your eyes shut, knowing Roman’s making Benji watch. You can’t stop yourself from writhing and wailing, but you can at least close your eyes, right?

“Good girl. Daddy’s stupid little cocksleeve,” Roman laughs. He pulls his hips out midway through your climax and jerks himself off against your clit, against your hole, your cum all over his shaft and his hand. The sound is obscenely loud, wet as he strokes himself. He takes a certain satisfaction from taking away from your pleasure, using it to further his own. You whine and whimper and try to quietly beg him - please come back, please, please, I need you.

“No.”

Roman makes Benji watch as he shoots his load over your mouth, your face. Ropes of it, thick and copious; fuck, he hasn’t cum this hard in a long time. Roman paints your face with his seed and laughs as he comes down, giving his softening cock a few last pumps before he switches the camera back to his own grinning face, memorizing the way Benji looks absolutely fucking dejected and miserable.

“Well, hey, dogboy - this was fun. Glad you came - or, at least, glad you watched us while we came, right? Hope this was more fun than just a few texts and pictures, dickhead. Fuck off, now, bye-bye!” He says cheerfully, ending the video chat before Benji can even think of a response. He tosses your phone to the side and studies your face, reaching out to collect his cum on his fingers and swipe it down into your mouth.

“Clean yourself up. Come on. Can’t do everything for you, huh?”

139 notes · View notes

thollandsgirl2013 · 6 months ago

Text

𝐍𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤

Parings → Dad! Peter Parker x Mum! Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary → You and Peter find out Ben has powers.

"Where is he?" You mutter, your voice rising with each word as you move through the apartment. Your heart races, and panic starts to set in. You check the usual places—the crib, under the table, even behind the couch. But there’s no sign of your son.

"Peter!" You shout, your voice shaky. "I can’t find Ben!"

Peter rushes into the room, wiping his hands on a towel. "What do you mean you can't find him?" He asks, a frown forming on his face as he scans the room, just as puzzled.

"I just turned my back for a second, and now he's—he's gone!" Panic bubbles up in your chest, and you check every nook and cranny. The playpen is empty, the hallway quiet. Your heart is racing, your hands trembling. "I swear, he was right here. How does a two-year-old just disappear?"

Peter starts scanning the room with you, but suddenly, his expression shifts from panic to amusement.

"Uh, babe," Peter says, holding back a grin, "I think I found him."

You stop, turning to face Peter. "Where?"

Peter points upward, and your breath catches in your throat. There, clinging to the ceiling, is little Ben. His tiny hands are stuck to the surface like he belongs there, his wide eyes staring down at you both with pure innocence, completely unaware of the heart attack he nearly gave you.

"Oh my God," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "Peter... he's on the ceiling!"

Peter chuckles, pride shining in his eyes. "Yup, just like his old man."

You blink, still frozen in shock. "How is this even possible? He's—he's a baby!"

Peter beams, his chest puffing out with pride as he steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. "I mean, it was bound to happen eventually, right? He's my kid. Of course he's got powers."

He watches your son with an awe-struck expression, his smirk growing. "Look at him. He's a natural. A baby with some pretty cool powers." Glancing back at you, he adds with a playful glint, "Looks like our little guy’s inherited more than just my good looks."

You can't help but groan. "Peter, this isn't funny! Get him down before he falls!"

Peter gives you a reassuring smile, gently squeezing your hand. "I’ve got this, don’t worry." He jumps on the ceiling, pulling himself up effortlessly until he's level with Ben. "Hey, Benji," Peter says softly, grinning as he reaches for his son. "Having fun up here, buddy?"

Ben’s face lights up when he sees Peter. "Da-da!" He squeals, reaching his little arms out. "Fun!"

Peter’s heart melts as he carefully peels Ben off the ceiling and cradles him in his arms. He glances down at you with a proud smile before lowering himself and Ben back to the ground.

You rush over, wrapping both Peter and Ben in a tight hug. Your heart is still racing, but the sight of your little boy safe in Peter’s arms brings a wave of relief.

"I thought I was going to have a heart attack," you murmur, kissing Ben’s cheek. "You scared me, baby."

Ben looks at you with wide eyes, his little hand reaching for your face. "Ma-ma," he babbles, a sweet smile curling his lips. "Ma!"

Your heart melts. "Yes, sweetie, Mama’s here," you say softly, brushing your fingers through his messy curls.

Peter laughs softly, bouncing Ben in his arms. "I guess we’ve got a little spider on our hands." He looks down at Ben, his voice playful. "Benji, you showing off for us, huh?"

Ben giggles, bouncing in Peter’s arms. "Up!" He squeals, pointing to the ceiling again. "Up, Da-da!"

Peter laughs, clearly amused. "Oh, you wanna go back up there, huh?"

"Peter, no," you quickly interject, though you can’t help the small smile on your lips. "Please, no more ceiling adventures."

Ben turns to you, his chubby cheeks puffing out as he tries to copy the word. "No 'ventshurs?" He babbles, mispronouncing it with his little toddler tongue. His brows furrow as if he's trying to understand.

You giggle, cupping his cheek. "Yes, no more adventures for today, okay? You stay with Mama and Dada."

Ben frowns dramatically, his lower lip sticking out in a pout. "Up!" He declares stubbornly, making Peter laugh.

Peter nuzzles Ben’s cheek, tickling him gently. "Not today, little dude. But I gotta say, I’m pretty proud of you."

Ben giggles and squirms in Peter’s arms, his face lighting up with joy. "Pwoud?"

Peter nods, grinning from ear to ear. "Yeah, buddy, Daddy’s so proud of you. You're just like me."

You groan playfully, shaking your head as you run your fingers through Ben’s curls. "Great, another spider. I don’t think my heart can take this much worry."

Ben looks at you, his big, curious eyes blinking up at you. "Mama pwoud?"

Your heart melts at the sound of his sweet little voice. You cup his cheek and kiss his forehead. "Of course, Mama’s proud," you say softly. "But Mama’s also very tired, and you gave her quite the scare."

Ben tilts his head, clearly not understanding everything but catching onto your tone. He wraps his tiny arms around your neck, pulling you in for a hug. "Sowwy, Ma-ma."

Your chest tightens with emotion, and you hug him back. "It’s okay, baby. Just stay on the ground from now on, okay?"

Peter watches you both with an adoring smile, his hand resting on your back. "You know," he teases, "he’s probably gonna be crawling on walls more often now. It’s in his blood."

You groan, pulling back from Ben to give him a mock glare. "Don’t encourage him, Peter."

Peter laughs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "No promises. I mean, just look at him—he’s already got the hang of it." His gaze shifts down to Ben, pride and amusement lighting up his eyes. "Look at you, buddy. Already crawling on walls. You’re gonna be swinging through the city in no time."

Groaning again, you bury your face in Peter’s chest. "Please don’t give him any ideas."

Peter chuckles, gently rocking the baby. "Too late. I’m already imagining us swinging as a family. It'll be epic. Father and son duo."

You shake your head, though a small smile tugs at your lips despite the lingering panic. "I don’t think my heart can handle it."

Ben looks up at Peter with wide eyes, his lips curling into a mischievous smile. "Up, Da-da!" He demands again, making grabby hands at the ceiling.

You shake your head, a fond smile on your lips despite everything. "Definitely your kid."

Peter chuckles, bouncing Ben in his arms again. "Yeah, and I couldn’t be prouder."

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

#peter parker spiderman #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tomholland2013 #thollandsgirl2013 #tom holland spiderman #spider man #tom holland fanfiction

124 notes · View notes

aemondapologistfrfr · 8 months ago

Text

Forbidden Flames

benjicot blackwood x strong!fem!reader//

oc!arryn!targ!male x strong!fem!reader

Summary: You take after your mother in more ways than one and the current Queen Alicent has no problem telling you that she’s aware.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, infidelity, oral(f), p in v, birth but nothing too descriptive, time jumps

Authors Note: a request from @chainsawsangel that I sat on for a while 😣😭 no interaction with the oc tbh

Word Count: 3.7k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

I knew from a young age that I wouldn’t have much of a choice over anything in my life. Shortly after my first word I was betrothed to someone who I’ve never even met. I’ve been paraded around meetings with my mother on a daily basis and was told to sit there and listen. The only reprieve I had was when she would invite all of her allies to court and I could interact with their children.

The first time I met him I begged my mom to never invite the Blackwoods back to court again. He had a dirty mouth and would talk about such violence against his rival house. The second time he visited we were both a couple years older and caught each other’s eye. His dirty mouth would whisper into my ear until I turned into a blushing mess and then leave me in the halls to trail after him. As the years went by we truly fell for one another. We began to come up with excuses for him to come to court at least once a moon and would send dozens of ravens in between the visits.

Once my betrothed arrived to court we had to become a little more sly but we couldn’t give each other up. He is the only thing I’ve ever chosen for myself and I’m not getting rid of him. I’ve come to terms with my sin because after all I’m the fruit of such sin. It was no surprise to me when my first babe came out with a head full of dark brown hair.

My husband didn’t think twice about it and kept on his day. Jasper Arryn has always been sweet to me but we never really emotionally connected in the way we needed to. He is my mother’s youngest uncle and bears the silver hair of a Targaryen. He’s handsome I’ll admit, but he’s just not my Benji.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

One year after first born

I fix my gown smoothing it down and brushing back my hair. I walk over to my babbling baby and pinch his cheeks and tickle his tummy. I scoop him up into my arms as he continues to laugh as I fly him around the room in my arms. His baby dragon runs at our feet softly chirping. I dip down so my son can play with his dragon before sweeping us out of our chambers.

“Someone special is here to visit you for your name day.” I coo kissing at his neck and we start down the stairs. As we walk people dip their heads to us and offer us warm greetings. We step out into the afternoon sun and I gaze around the yard.

“Princess Y/n, I’m absolutely delighted to have run into you.” his voice sends butterflies into my stomach as I turn and a smile spreads across his face.

“Benjicot.” I hum walking closer.

“Happy early name day, my Prince.” his voice drops lower and he looks to our son. “You look very healthy, Aelor.” he brushes the babes hair back and Aelor coos grabbing his finger.

“Come to my chambers.” I whisper.

“Jasper?” he tilts his head.

“Off on the hunt already.” I nod turning to head back into the Keep. I make my way around the main floor and take a back we to my chambers so I’m seen around and away from the courtyard. I slip back into my chambers and bounce Aelor on my hip as I wait for Benji. Three knocks and he’s slipping inside and walking over to us with a smile.

“He’s a man grown now.” he scoops Aelor out of my hands and holds him in his. “I hope you’re not giving your mom too much trouble.” he tickles his neck as Aelor begins to squeal. His dragon uncurls and runs over to us flapping his wings as Aelor keeps laughing. We all sit on the ground together playing with his blocks and toys as my heart swells.

“I’ve missed you dearly.” I look to him with love.

“I wish we didn’t have to be apart.” he sighs looking at our son.

“Me too.” I look to him with longing.

“I don’t want to miss him growing up. That’s my boy.” he looks to Aelor with watery eyes.

“I want to have another.” he head snaps back over to me.

“Do not jest.” his tone low.

“I’ll be right back.” I hum scooping up Aelor and his dragon follows us out of our chambers. I ask my maid to care for him while I rest and the dragon keepers come and retrieve his dragon. I slip back into my chambers and Benji is pulling me against him quickly.

“Do you mean it?” he looks down to me.

“I want to have another child with you, Benji. Aelor should have someone to grow up with.” I gasp as he kisses me fiercely.

“I will give you as many as you desire, my love.” he kisses down my jaw pulling the laces of my dress loose. He has me free of all of my clothes in between heated kisses. I pull his tunic off and sigh as his heated skin touches mine. He lays me back on the bed before burying his head between my thighs.

“Gods Benji,” I cry out pushing myself onto his face. He swirls around my bud while pushing his fingers into me. My hips jerk against his face as my high builds. I pull against his hair while he uses his free hand to hold me still while he laps against me. My legs close around him as I come undone pulling him up my body.

“I’ll make sure I give you another babe.” he grunts pushing into me. I whine as he slowly dips in and out.

“Benji,” I pant. “Faster, please,” my voice breaks as he begins to snap his hips into me.

“This better for you, Princess?” he taunts as he pounds into me. I shake with pleasure every time he brushes against my throbbing bud. He dips down to my neck to kiss and lick while I arch into him. “Taking me so good.” he grunts and I come undone around him. He continues to trust into me at a face pace and I’m whimpering below him as my pleasure threatens to spill over again.

“Benji, I-“ I cry out as my pleasure slams through me and I stills filling me with my name on his tongue.

“Fuck,” he pants resting his forehead on mine. He rolls his hips into mine and a broken moan falls from my lips. “I can’t wait to see you growing with our child again.” he continues to rock into me until he hardens again.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Six months later

I wait in my chambers propped up on pillows playing with Aelor on the ground. I’ve sent Benji instruction on how to get to my chambers unnoticed and we’re awaiting him patiently. I hear soft knocks on the door and Benji enters closing the doors behind him.

“Look at you both.” he hums with a smile sitting on the ground with us. “How are you, my love?” he leans across and kisses me.

“It’s going as smoothly as the first time.” I smile resting my hand on my bump.

“I’m glad to hear.” he rests his hand on top of mine. “I hope you’ve been a kind little prince.” he scoops Aelor up who giggles in his arms.

“I want you to be with us.” my heart hurts looking at them. “Or us with you.” my voice breaks as I start to cry.

“Let’s go to mommy.” Benji coos and they surround me with their embrace. “We have right now and I’m thankful of that.” he dries my tears.

“I want us to be a family.” I hiccup as my tears start anew.

“Come on.” he helps me up and picks up Aelor. He walks us to the bed and we lay curled together. He brushes my hair back while Aelor sleeps between us.

“We are a family. It’s just a little different but it’s ours.” he says softly. I grab his hand and place a kiss on it before bringing it to my bump.

“I want our children to know you are their father. I want you to raise them.” my eyes search his.

“I will make a plan and figure it out.” he nods to me, promise laced in his voice.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Birth

“One last push, Princess.” the midwife’s voice centers me. “We can see the babes head.” she nods smiling at me. My eyes screw shut as I give everything into this last push.

“Excellent work,” the maesters calm voice is followed by a cry. I open my eyes and let out a breathy chuckle. “A boy.” he smiles wrapping him and handing him to me.

“What will you name him?” my handmaiden beams above me.

“Vaelon.” I hum holding him against me brushing back his dark wisps of hair.

“Congratulations, Princess.” Alicents voice confuses me as I look up. “I wanted to check on you and the babe. See if you need anything.” her tone condescending as he peaks over the blanket at the babe. “Hm.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” I hold my son away from her grasp.

“Where might the father be?” she raises her eyebrows looking around. “Do be sure to let me know if you need anything.” she turns and stops when she spots the egg is the babes cradle. “It’s curious how those seem to hatch.” her words causing me to blink before she’s out of my chambers.

“Can you find my mother?” I ask my handmaiden.

“Of course,” she nods and is slipping out of the door quickly.

“Help me up.” I nod to the midwife.

“Princess, you should rest.” she tries to settle me back onto the bed.

“I wish to bathe him.” I nod my head as another midwife grabs Vaelon so I can stand. My legs wobble as I hold my arms out for my babe once more. He coos in my arms as I slowly shuffle over to the basin.

“My sweet girl,” my mother’s arms are wrapped around mine steadying me. “You should be abed.” she helps me start to clean off the babe.

“I like to be the first one to bathe babe.” I hum my brain starting to cloud from the energy I exuded minutes ago.

“I remember from Aelor.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “What is this little princes name?” she hums trickling water through his hair.

“Vaelon.” I hum wiping at his face.

“Where is Jasper?” her voice soft.

“Probably off hunting.” I shrug not caring. I wrap Vaelon back up and walk him over to his cradle next to my bed. I place him on the small bed and his limbs fan out and he has a little hand outstretched to the egg.

“Let’s get you back into bed.“ she hums helping me lay back. I sigh as my back meets the soft mattress. She grabs a clean cloth and wets it before coming back to me. She wipes at my face and brushes my hair back. She dismisses the midwives and maester before she crawls into bed with me.

“Thank you, mother.” I hum as she continues to brush my hair back. “Alicent was here the second the babe came.” my voice distant as I close my eyes.

“What on earth for?” she tries to calm her voice but I can hear the anger.

“To call my son a bastard and basically say I’m wasting dragon eggs.” she continues to brush my hair back. “I’m sorry, mother. I tried to love Jasper.” my voice breaks as I feel tears pour down my face.

“Shh, shh,” she hums scooting closer to me. “You and your babes are healthy. That’s all I care about. Rest.” she continues to whisper soothing words to me as I drift off.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Four months after Vaelons birth

I stroll through the gardens alone soaking in the sun and the life around me. The birds sing sweet songs as I stop and smell the flowers. As I turn the corner my handmaiden comes rushing over to me and I begin to panic that something has happened.

“Princess,” she stops in front of me out of breath. “Vaelons egg is hatching.” a smile splits across my face as we race back into the Keep.

“Mommy,” Aelor whines and wobbles over to me. I scoop him up and we walk to Vaelon in his cradle watching the egg be pushed open from the inside. A sky blue dragon pops its head out and squirms the rest of the way out softly chirping. It looks to Vaelon before curling up at his side. I bounce Aelor on my hip as we watch them both sleep below us.

“I’ll go fetch the dragon keepers.” my handmaiden says and I nod pulling a chair to the side of the cradle to watch them. The dragon keepers come in and congratulate me and Vaelon. They look over the dragon and nod happily at his health.

“I wish to have time with my sons.” I say softly dismissing everyone. After about ten minutes my heart starts to flutter at who should be walking through my doors.

“Daddy.” Aelor cries wiggling out of my arms as Benji enters.

“Hello my little Prince.” he grabs him and tosses him in the air as Aelor giggles and squeals. “Where is my littlest Prince?” he hums gliding over to me and the cradle.

“He’s asleep.” I hum looking up at him. Benji dips down and places a soft kiss on my lips before rising to look down at Vaelon again.

“His egg hatched.” he looks to me with a wide smile.

“Just a bit ago.” I nod my head biting my lip. He sets Aelor on the ground who goes to play as we admire our youngest.

“Daddy’s so proud of you.” his words soft as he brushes against Vaelons hair. He stirs in his crib and turns to curl up with his dragon.

“I think we should talk with my mother.” I smile looking up at Benji.

“About what, my love?” he kneels next to me looking up at me with adoration.

“She can make it so we can be together. I don’t care what people say about me. They already say it so I might as well get to have you all the time.” I brush his hair back as he smiles.

“Shall I go get her?” he grabs my hand and places it in his kissing it softly.

“No stay.” I hold his hand against me. “I’ll send my handmaiden. I poke my head out the door and ask my guard to have my handmaiden fetch my mother and we wait in my chambers playing with Aelor.

“Yes, my sweet girl?” my mother sweeps into my chambers and stops when she sees Benji. “I’m sorry, I thought-“ she goes to turn back to the door with red cheeks.

“Mother wait.” I reach out. “We wanted to talk to you.” I look at her with pleading eyes.

“What can I do for you both?” she hums taking a seat on the ground with us and Aelor crawls into her lap.

“I want to be with Benji.” my words hushed as I nibble my lip. “I want to be happy. I want us to be a family.” I feel myself tear up as she looks to me.

“Just give me some time and I will figure it out.” she nods to me and begins to play with Aelor.

“Thank you.” I grab her hand. “Vaelons egg hatched today.” she looks up to me with a wide smile.

“Let’s see.” she starts to get up and I lead her over to the cradle. “Look at them.” she coos turning to me with watery eyes.

“His colors are so vibrant.” I run a finger down the dragons scales.

“I’m proud of you.” she hums pulling me into a hug. “Give me some time and I promise you that you will all be together.” she whispers smoothing my hair.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Two months later

I sit in the council chambers as everyone stares at me once more. I’m getting flashbacks to my childhood of meetings except this time I don’t care about the whispers. I look to my mother hopeful as she rises from her chair.

“Jasper never returned from the Kings Wood last week. Our hunts for him bore no information. At this point we can only assume the worst.” the members look to me as tears stream down my face but little do they know that they’re tears of happiness that I can finally peruse Benji.

I have no idea where or what happened to Jasper. My mother saw to his disappearance and told me not to worry about it. Once the meeting ends I sweep out of the council chambers and seal myself in my chambers as I await Benjis arrival. I sit on the ground with my children smiling at them. Aelor brings Vaelon toys and shows him how to play and it warms my heart to see my boys so close.

“Daughter?” my mothers voice carries through my doors.

“Come.” I hum and she enters and Benji is close behind her.

“Benji.” I smile and he comes and sits on the ground with us.

“Just give me one more moon and then we will announce your courtship.” she looks down at us lovingly.

“Thank you, for everything.” I look up at her with watery eyes.

“Of course.” she nods her head. “I’ll let you guys have some time.” she hums filtering out of my chambers.

“How are you?” Benji pulls me against him.

“So happy. Everything is finally working out for us.” I pull his lips against mine.

“Do you want for me to move here?” he whispers against my lips.

“I would be content if we moved a bit away from Kings Landing and lived on a farm. Our dragons can offer us protection and you can hunt with them. While I stay home and raise our babes and cook us dinner..” I hum trailing off.

“You seem to have it all planned out.” he smiles scooping up Vaelon and Aelor climbs into my lap.

“We can have some more children.” I brush Aelors hair back as he tries to wiggle back over to Benji.

“That sounds like an absolute dream.” his eyes darken. “It was always my biggest regret that I wasn’t with you when you carried them.” he bites his cheek.

“I don’t know. I got pretty demanding.” I giggle and he shakes his head.

“Then I’ll meet every single one of your demands. Happily.” he hums.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Six months after Jaspers ‘disappearance’

I’m sitting in an open field as my sons giggle and play together. I lay back and soak in the sun as our three dragons fly above us dipping and chirping in the breeze. Benji is tending to our animals and I wait for him to join us with a smile on my face.

“How are you, my beautiful wife?” he hums laying next to me spreading his hands across my growing bump.

“Content. Loved. In love.” I look to him with a smile.

“Do you think we’ll have another boy?” he hums laying us back in the grass.

“I’m hoping for a girl.” I giggle as he peppers kisses across my face.

“Gods, we’ll have a miniature version of you running around keeping our boys in line.” he rolls onto his side resting his hand on my bump once more. “You’re absolutely radiant.” his words soft.

“My mother sent a letter saying she’ll fly in at the end of the week with an egg for her.” I looking up once more watching our dragons circle us.

“Do you have a name in mind for our daughter?” he chuckles holding me closer to him.

“I have a couple but I’ll have to meet her first.” I brush his hair back. “Incoming.” I whisper too late as our sons jump on Benji.

“How are my little princes today?” he rolls over with them and showers them with affection.

“Good,” Aelor wiggles out of his grasp before running through the grass. Benji scoops up Vaelon and chases after Aelor as he giggles wildly.

I slowly get up and make my way back into the house to begin preparing for dinner. I softly hum to myself as I chop up the different ingredients and push them into an iron pot. I hear them before they even bound through the front door.

“You can’t catch me, daddy.” Aelor sprints through the front door and hides behind me. Benji ducks through the door with Vaelon on his shoulders and hunts around the house.

“Seems as if your brother is missing.” Benji says to Vaelon as Aelor giggles from behind of me. “Did you hear that?” he whispers stalking around the table.

“Behind mommy.” Vaelon points and Aelor lets out a squeal and runs back out the front door with them trailing after him.

I finish cooking with a smile on my face. I call them inside and they come running and sit around the table. This is our daily routine and I genuinely couldn’t be more content. The rest of the night we settle down together and read our boys bedtime stories before their little eyes shut for the night.

“Come,” he helps me up from the chair. “I wish to look at the stars with you.” he hums taking me down the stairs.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌

taglist ✍️

@clarityisnofun @gabriella-aesthetic @callsignwidow @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @ashovertheriver @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang @malfoycassimalfoy @april-notthemonth69 @anaviieiraaa @p45510n4f4shi0n @neocockthotology @thereaderwitch @hardkiddonut @faenyra

#benji blackwood #benjicot blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #benji x reader #benjicot x reader #x reader #x reader smut #x reader fic #x reader imagine

132 notes · View notes

kombuuuu · 2 years ago

Note

Hello✋🏾! If I could request a Peter b parker x wife!reader where they have twins (including mayday) during the events of the movie?

No.1 Dad!

“Baby, Please. It’s a canon thing!”

“They’re toddlers!”

PeterBParker x Wife!Reader + little ones :]

light angst and a chase scene. ending is mostly comforting daddy parker

(it’s not sad i jus ❤️ this gif)

(Benjy is a canon named Kid of Peter B Parker’s in the Comics!)

“Peter Benjamin Parker.”

“Oh shit.”

The father of two grimaced at the room full of spidey people. The voice of his wife sounding through the phone and into the echoing room.

“Tell me, why the fuck-“ Peter dragged a worried hand down his face. Miles snickering next to Hobie in the background. “—I woke up, to not only my *husband missing from my bed.” He sucked in a breath, glancing over at Miguel. Stood unimpressed with two spider-children climbing all over him and his platform. “But my two toddlers *lost from their damn cribs.” “Baby, I can explain.” He focused back on the phone, crowding over it like it would help conceal the conversation at all.

“You are in so much shit when you get home, young man.”

“I’m older than you by four years!”

“Watch your tone with me, Mister.”

He groaned, huffing and pouting into the phone while you continued to scold him before Miguel interrupted.

“Good morning, [name]. Hope you slept well.” His monotoned voice drawled out while picking the children off his clothes like bugs, and putting them back on Peter.

“Leave my wife alone.”

“Oh my god, please go somewhere private for this conversation.” Miguel rubbed between his eyes, his favourite thing to do apparently.

Your voice spoke back over him. “I don’t need privacy, I need my damn— Oh! Found it.”

“Baby, what are you—“ The connection cut off midway through his sentence, causing him to huff before realising; “Hey! That got me out of it!”

He straightened his posture, collecting his kids, Mayday and Benjy. And stuffing them into their baby carriers, carefully threading their limbs through each limb-window, as he called it.

A sparkle of warm tones caught his eye, circling from nothing into a fully developed portal.

“Oh, I should’ve known.”

“I seem to be making you say ‘Oh’ a lot.”

“You should’a heard you last night.”

“Peter!” He laughed as he watched you make your way over to him, giving Miguel a courteous nod and Miles a questioning glance. You looked so beautiful. An angel to him, the love of his life. He was so lucky to have you. And the little family you had created for yourselves. All the baby-stealing and stupid pictures aside, you were beyond enamoured with him as well.

“You’re lucky I still have this old thing, Parker. Or you wouldn’t have wanted to come home.

Despite the obvious threat, the only thing he could focus on was “come home”. A sentiment that was single to just your home, or just his home. But it was home. For a family, his family.

The admiration was broken when you pinched his nose. “Ow!”

“Shouldn’t have taken my kids.”

“Our kids!”

“Yeah whatever.”

You turned to Miguel, scanning the room and being very unsurprised at the amount of spider people here. If it was something important, Miguel loved a show. “What’s going on?”

“I’m… explaining something.”

“Uhuh.” you blinked at him slowly, unbelieving.

“Stop talking to my wife.” peter cut in.

“The fate of the multiverse is at stake, [name].-“ He threw his hands up, then gestures aggressively towards the kid next to Hobie.

“It’s his father, or an entire universe!”

“She’s not into you weirdo, back off.”

“Uhuh. And how old is the kid?”

He had the gall to look ashamed. Mayday babbled behind you. Giggling excitedly once she and Benjy had lost interest in whatever they were messing with on Peters suit. “Oh, come here baby.”

“How come I didn’t get that?”

Peter pouted over at you, rocking Benji gently, who was still half asleep.

You turned back around with your kid around your hip, addressing the kid near the centre of the room. “Hey uh—.”

“Miles!” He perked up, shyly waving at you.

“Oh, Miles! Peter talks so much about you.”

“No, I don’t.”

“He even named our dog after you!”

“No, I didn’t!”

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you.” You smiled at Miles whilst he smiled back, happy to know Peter thought of him as much as he did Peter.

“You too, Mrs.Parker!”

“Don’t listen to this lady, she’s crazy and a psychopath!”

Peter stepped into place beside you, shaking his one un-baby-occupied hand in the air wildly.

“She’s off her meds!”

“Peter.”

He grumbled and stuck his tongue out. Blowing a raspberry, which Mayday happily replicated. You put the tip of your finger on Maydays tongue, pushing it back into her mouth. “Don’t do that, germs.”

turning away from peter, you kissed her cheek in apology, whispering “It’s not you, it’s him.” In her tiny ear.

You propped your free hand on your hip, looking up at Miguel on his platform.

He looked away. Hand settling below his chin as he closed his eyes and sighed.

“There’s that contemplative expression again.”

“Why is he always contemplating, nothing’s that serious.”

“I dunno.” Peter shrugged. He crept up close to you, putting his arm around you waist and leaning down to smell your perfume.

“I like that one.”

You smiled, tilting your head back to look at him, “I know,”.

Miguel continued on with his explanation, showing miles the different Canon events. Showing him Peters, Gwen’s, yours. When Miles seems to suddenly realise something.

“The Spot does it.” His hands shake alongside his voice, Peter glances over to you in worry, but ultimately focuses back on Miles. “He kills ‘im.” The boys shoulders drop in defeat.

“When does it happen.”

Miguel looks away, shaking his head and wincing.

Miles turns to the small group surrounding him, helpless.

“When does it happen?!”

“In two days,” Miles whips back towards him. “When he’s sworn in.”

“That’s- what the model says.”

“I’ sorry Miles-“

“Send me home.”

“I can’t do that, not now.”

Gwen winces and squeezes her eyes shut. Body stuff and unmoving.

“What am I supposed to do then? Let him die?!”

Miguel pauses. And doesn’t relent.

Miles’s face contorts for a second before he turns, gesturing vaguely at Gwen.

“What about your dad? He’s a captain, right?”

She just sighs, “Yeah.”

“Wh- And that’s it! You guys aren’t even gonna do anything about it?!”

Gwen looks down, ashamed.

Mayday grabs hold of your finger. Noting the serious tones of the situation, she stays quiet. He scoffs and turns to Peter.

“Okay what about Uncle Ben? That’d been okay? If you knew and you just—,” he stuttered, “Let it play out?!”

Peter stepped forward, putting a reassuring hand on his students shoulder. “If not for uncle ben, most of us wouldn’t be here Miles.”

He pauses to look at the webbed window of his Ben.

“The good we did it-,” he breathes, “It wouldn’t have been done.”

You harden your gaze over your husband. He doesn’t look at you.

Miles nods, “So we’re just’ supposed to let people die because some algorithm—!” he hits Peters hand of his shoulder and starts towards Miguel again. “Woah, woah.” Lyla interjected. “—Says that that’s supposed to happen?!”

He swings his arms in annoyance, in *fear.

This is a *kid.

“You realise how messed up that sounds, right?”

With a better moral code than most in this room.

“You have a choice between saving one person—“ The slow approach of other spider people filled out the fog coating the room. “—And saving an entire world, every world!” Miguel points at him, hand on hip.

“I can do both!” He tries,

“Spiderman always-,”

“Not always.”

Miles looks to Peter, seeking back up. Peters face twists something sorry, and Miles’s flashes of hurt.

Benji starts to wake up, cooing softly at his dad.

Miguel’s hand gently turns the boy back around, this isn’t looking good.

You glance at Hobie, seeing the apprehension in his posture as he meets your gaze.

He glanced down at Mayday in question, you reassure him with a nod. If it comes to it, you’ll put her in peters baby carrier for safety. He nods back.

“Miles, we all want to lead the life we wish we had.” When Miles shrugs him off he raises his hands.

“Believe me, I’ve tried.”His hands slowly lowered. Miles’ breathing got heavier.

“And the harder I tried, the more damage I did.”

“You can’t have it all, kid.”

Miles looked around in panic, noticing the faces creeping up on him. He makes eye contact with you, and you try and signal your support.

If you run, I’ll run too.

“Being Spiderman is a sacrifice. That’s the job, that’s what you signed up for.”

A robotic voice caught your attention as a large suit approached the outer circle.

“Miles.” The faceplate opened.

“Penny?”

He put up his defences once more.

“What is this?” He yelled, the force of his words drawing an immediate attention. “Is this an intervention or something?”

“We know it’s hard, but it’s the truth, Miles.”

You glare at the faces around you, Adjusting Mayday on your hip and keeping an eye out for your two boys.

Miles and Benji.

Peter will be dealt with later.

Miles stumbles back, righting his foot and turning to Peter.

“Is that why you’re here? To—“

he clenched his fist, “To let me down easy?”

You watch your lover closely, the look on his face telling you all you need to know, and apparently same goes for Miles.

“It worked last time, why not run it back huh?” his voice was raising, Benji getting uncomfortable at the tone.

“Woah- hey, hold on. Hold on!” He raised his hand in a placating matter, trying to tune Miles down.

“You were right, Gwen.”

You glanced up at her, his venomed whisper doing its intended purpose, hurt.

“You should have never come to see me.”

Peter slowly approached Miles, bending down to his height like a person to a stray dog.

“Kid, look at me-“ “Stop callin’ me that.”

“There you go.” You sent Hobie a huff of appraise.

“Hobie, you’re not helping.”

“Good.”

Miles gratefully nodded at him.

“Miles, please understand-“ Peter tried.

“Peter.” Your stern voice interrupted him, and he shut down his attempt.

“You can’t ask me not to save my father.”

“I’m not asking.”

You glared at Miguel, only noticing the barrier a little too late. It opened under Miles, trapping him within when the inner circle started to protest.

“Miguel just give him a second! Please!”

“Dont! Stop it.”

“You let him leave, he’ll only do more damage.”

Gwen intervened, “Enough!”

You rushed towards the barrier with Mayday, her reaching for the barrier in confusion. You can’t help him out of this, you don’t know how.

“Miguel, let him out! He’s a kid.” You raised your voice. Weaponising your authority.

“Miguel this is too far.”

“[Name], it’ll only hold him few days.” He turned around to walk away.

Miles was panicking, banging on the barriers walls and spinning to try and find a weak point. His eyes caught onto Hobie. Doing nothing but holding his palms out, and giving him an earnest look. “Sorry it had to end like this, kid.”

“I said—“ Miles placed his hands flat on the barrier, right above his head. Palms out, You backed up shielding Mayday and dragging Peter to turn around and using him as a body block for Benji.

“—Not-“ The barriers begun to crack, shatter like glass.

“—To call me that!” A wave of energy pushed everyone down as the barrier broke, exploding in a mess of bright colours.

You heard Hobie chuckle, and looked up at Miles in amazement. A second where he caught your eye, he darted. Running straight for the exit.

“Miles!” Miguel screeched.

You stuffed Mayday in her carrier in record time and blew them a kiss as you pounced from your position to catch up with Miles.

Unbeknownst to you, Your husband, along with every other spider person, would follow. Except Hobie.

“Just for the record, I quit.”

—

You had found Miles being interrogated by your lover, him holding up your two children like bribing toys.

“C’mon- just hold ‘em!”

“I don’t want to do that.”

Miles manoeuvred slyly through all the cranks and pipes, your Spidey following swiftly behind him. “Just one hold! It’s rejuvenating!”

“I’m plenty juvenated!” Miles retorted.

You were going to interrupt when you lagged behind a bit, getting stuck on a moving pipe.

When you finally freed yourself, you stumbled into a cute moment between the two.

“I wanted them to be like you!”

He stared at your husband, vulnerable and scared, the beginnings of a smile creeping onto his face.

Mayday and Benji bickered with each other in his hold.

Peters watch suddenly lit up.

“Okay, Peter I’ve got your location.”

Their faces dropped, betrayal raw on the young boys.

“No, no. You do not have my location!”

Him peeling open the crate to the industrial fans, and slipping in. You using your webs to sling in after him and pull the crate shut behind you. Catching Peters fleeting glance before what seemed twenty different spider people broke through the crate, smashing through fans.

You followed miles swiftly, through the busses and over cartops. Using your webs to keep up with him. He wasn’t bad, for someone so young.

“I’m a great mentor!”

You huffed at Peters distant offended tone. “Sure, baby.” You muttered.

You hooked around a building, watching as Miles cut himself off from Gwen. Her hand reaching out for him as he fell. Your spidey senses caught your attentions, tingling in the forefront of your mind. You zeroed in on Miles and watched as he aimed for the train. It hadn’t looked like anyone else had caught on yet. Still scrambling to get to him, instead of trying to cut him off.

—

Miguel had the kid by the throat. Slamming him against the train doors and dragging his body up with him. You watched in fear as he spoke to the boy.

“You’re a mistake!”

You screamed at him from your position below, begging for him to just let the kid go. Miles caught you gaze. You fought against the wind, trying hard to get to him, and keeping an eye on Peter and your babies.

“If you hadn’t been bit-!” Miguel slammed his back again. You winced. “Your Peter Parker would have lived!”

Miles struggled against him, trying to push off the claws attacking him. “Instead he died- Saving you.”

“He would have stopped the collider before it went off. Spot wouldn’t exist-“ “Peter!” “-And none of this, would have happened.”

The three of you climbed to get to them. You grabbed Benji off peter, Cradling him in your arms as the winds were getting too rough.

Miguel slammed him back again, crowding over the small boy and growling his words.

“And all this time— I have been the only one holding all this together.”

“Miguel go easy on him!” Peter called down from his spot behind you, he sounded devastated, your heart broke for him. You knew how much he loved Miles, thinking of him almost like his first son. Your husband would bring him up so often, wondering what he was doing when he could see through the Spidey-Windows Miguel would (angrily) provide.

He always stressed when Miles had to figure out things himself, saying things like “Just give me a day with him, we’ll figure it out!” “He’s a kid Miguel. Wouldn’t you have wanted a mentor back then?” “I’m a great mentor.” “You just don’t see my brilliance.”

Benji babbled in your arms and you cooed back at him, spider beanie pulled snug over his face. Huh, he was pretty rejuvenating.

Miguel leaned closer, growling words of disgust to the kid.

“Let me go!” Miles struggled against him. A choked sound came from Peter, and when you looked back at him you swore you could see his eyes shine with unshed tears.

“Miguel that’s enough!” Gwen shouted.

“This isn’t what we talked about!”

Miles stopped struggling.

“You talked about this?” He looked down at Peter, heart breaking.

“You knew?”

Peter looked down, ashamed. Clinging onto the train but no longer climbing. Mayday held tightly to his chest with the other hand, he caught your eye.

“Peter what did you do..” Your breath escaped you and the words came out a whisper, flown away by the winds around you.

“You all knew?”

Your head shot up, starting to disagree before Gwen spoke.

“I.. I didn’t know..” She looked away, unable to face him.

“How to tell you.”

“That’s why you never came to see me.”

“Miles it’s for your own good!”

He pushed forwards.

“Who decides that?”

Miguel pushed back.

“I’m not a kid Gwen.”

Miguel grunted, slamming him again, the dent in the train deepening every time. “That’s exactly what you are! You’re just a kid!”

“Who has no idea what he’s doing!” Miles grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to squirm further from the beast on him.

His fingers sparked.

Miguel shoved his forearm against Miles’ neck, pushing his face against broken metal.

“Yeah well, I did get hundreds of Spider people away from your own club house.”

The roaring of spider people climbing the train travelled straight to Miguel’s ears.

“I guess he did plan this out!”

You smiled up at him. Seeing him smug back.

“And, I’m about to do this.”

He latched his sparking fingers onto Miguel’s shoulders. Clenching down and watching the starts of his electricity flow through the man’s arms.

The elder was the on struggling now, confused grunts paired with an effort to escape the boys hold.

“Everyone keeps tellin’ me how my story is s’posed to go.

Nah, Imma do my own thing.”

He pushed his whole hands against blue spiders chest.

“Sorry, but i’m going home.”

He pushed Miguel off of him right as he ignited the current buzzing underneath their veins. And watched as the Brunettes body ragdolled off of him and shot off the train and into the open sky.

The fanged man dragged his hand through waves of spider people, struggling to catch himself against smooth metal.

You looked back up at Miles, as he stood, connected by a single web to the speeding train.

“Goodbye, Gwen.”

He cut the thread and fell.

Gwen yelled for him, a call of his name. But peter? Peter just watched with his heart in his throat. His own betrayal heavy on his heart.

—

You were finally at home again. The stress of the day weighing high on the both of you. Even Mayday and Benji seemed to have noticed the tension.

Getting tired over all the moving and all the fighting, it was barely 7:30 before they were dead asleep.

“You think we’re bad parents?”

You were stood leaning over he crib, arms rested on its gates. Peter crowded over you, covering you in his smell and feeling. The weight on his body pressing against your back was akin to a weighted blanket, grounding you as you watched your sweet children breathe.

“Nah, Everyone has their first chase.”

“Well,..”

“Ehhh, want to see the cute photo I got of Benj and May?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

—

Your husband had been off the whole rest of the night. When you two had sat down together to watch the first mind numbing thing you could find, he couldn’t stop moving. Jittering with nerves.

You were waiting patiently for him to work the courage to say what he needed. Not ever preparing for something like this.

“Think Miles hates me?” It was said slyly. Like he was playing it off to be nothing, but the tension in his shoulder told you otherwise. “I think he’ll be hurt. And upset, but I don’t think he hates you.” He picked at his nails as you spoke, you curled your hands over the expanse of his chest and fit your ledge over his waist, he looked up at you through wet lashes.

“Are you sure cause-“ He cut himself off with a clear of his throat, not wanting to sob over something so *stupid in his head.

“Oh, baby. You’re so sweet, but he could never hate you.”

Peters hands stopped fiddling with themselves, smoothening down the curve of your ass and the small of your back.

“Okay,”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

He sounded relieved, if not a little suspicious.

He dug his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder and inhaled deeply.

“Creep.”

He nipped at your skin lightly in retaliation.

“Miguel talks to you too much.”

“Every sentence we shared was negative.”

“He’s like that.”

You scoffed at him playfully and he smiled into your neck, turning his cheek to your skin and watching you. “I’ll make sure next time we talk, it’ll be in sign.”

“No, I don’t speak ASL, what if he says something about me?”

“He says something about you out loud, baby.”

“Yeah but I can’t hear it if he’s signing.”

—

Even later in the night, when you heard the shower running and soft sobs coming from the bathroom. You did nothing but undress and climb in with him. Rubbing your hands soothingly down his back, spreading soap along his chest and back and massaging it in deep for him.

You let him hold himself up against you, and pretended not to notice the difference between the shower water and his tears. You dragged him down to your height, a hand tucked into his soft hair before your lips met his. He would settle his hands on your hips, push you ever closer to him. And take the comfort you gave him in stride.

Eventually you would pay mine to your water bill, and would dry each other off carefully, get dressed together and settle in your shared bed. It was 1 AM now, but you couldn’t care less, being in the arms of your lover had outweighed any negatives lack of sleep could bestow. He would make it up to Miles. Solve the problems of the universe (multiverse), and have you two meet for real. Introducing Miles to his wife, and his son to his twins.

—

I WENT OFF THE RAILSSSS

probs making a part two later, for more peter daddy snippets and cute kids plus wifey reader

#peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #peter benjamin parker #peter x reader #across the spiderverse #miles morales #gwen stacy x reader #miguel o’hara #mayday parker #hobie brown

1K notes · View notes