#is peter bit by the spider still? who's to say! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ichorai · 2 years ago

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snow spider ; miguel o'hara.

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

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

words ; 4.4k

themes ; fluff, slight angst

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

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

main masterlist.

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

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

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

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

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

A beat of silence.

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

You took a step back. “My universe…?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you’re hurt.”

“I’ll heal.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The months pass by in a blur.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then there was you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked.

“What?”

Peter froze, realizing what he’d just said.

“What?” he parroted.

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

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

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

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

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

Miguel was crazy about you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oka—mmph!”

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

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

“He was right,” said Miguel.

“Who was?”

“Peter. I do have feelings for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

He was falling in love with you.

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

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

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spideyyygotmotionn · 1 month ago

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PETER PARKER - the mask stays on.

Synopsis 🕸️ you always dreamed of doing it with spider man, this was like a birthday wish come true.

Contains 🕸️ nsfw!, 18+, spiderman fan!reader, smut, piv, mask stays on, afab, bday sex, a lot of plot sorry, established relationship, secret relationship, horrible roleplay, pet names, praise, oral sex (m!receiving), no protection (wrap it before u tap it irl), reader doesn’t know spider-man’s identity, oblivious!reader, parker is a people pleaser for you only

word count 🕷️: 4K

you had a secret.

a secret that you’ve managed to keep all to yourself for as long as you could remember. you had a tiny crush on spiderman. “tiny” is a understatement. okay a big crush whatever you want to say. you couldn’t help it, he just looked so good? sure you weren’t sure of the face card situation but the energy? no one understands it like you do. he’s so mysterious yet kind and cocky all at once but not too much to the point where it’s a turn off. he’s so cute. imagine how horrified you were when word got out that you liked spider-man.

you wanted to kill Laura. she teased you about it a little too loudly during homeroom and word got out fast. “really? spiderman? sure he’s cool, but you got all this in front of you babe.” flash laughs while gesturing to himself as if he was somehow magically a choice in your eyes. Peter rolled his eyes at flash’s weak attempts to flirt with you. you couldn’t even bring yourself to reply as you scoffed at him and turned to Laura. ‘see what you did.’ your face read while she mouthed a ‘sorry!’ in silence. all of you somehow missed a blushing peter parker as ned jolted out of his seat to slap him.

“anyway, this is so not the 18th birthday i wanted to experience. my senior year, freshly 18, and my celebrity crush is the biggest topic of conversation. yayyy.” you sarcastically cheered clearly bothered by everyone knowing.

“well it’s not so bad. it’s just a celebrity crush. at least your real crush isn’t taking it to heart.” Laura smiled sympathetically. you didn’t miss her head gesture towards Parker who was actually your boyfriend. it was a bit of a complicated situation you felt guilty yourself for keeping another huge secret from your best friend. Peter Parker was your boyfriend but no one knew.

“so.. spiderman?” parker questioned with a shit eating grin on his face. you groaned in desperation as you plopped yourself face first down on your bed. “oh c’mon it’s not the worst thing in the world. it’s kinda cute.” peter laughed as he caressed your hair, an attempt to comfort you. “not cute. it’s embarrassing.” you sighed rolling over to face him. peter couldn’t help but feel the tiniest amount of guilt for knowing why he found it cute.

you kept staring into your handsome boyfriends innocent eyes and your biggest dream crossed your mind. would it be shameful to ask? you would assume yes but it is your birthday after all…

“Happy birthday sweetheart.” Peter kissed you gently on the lips. a small innocent kiss which lasted around 3 seconds max.

“it is my birthday…”

“it is.”

“can i ask you something?” your cheeks were burning. you didn’t even want to imagine how foolish you must look in Peter’s eyes. face blushing furiously as your curious eyes scanned his face looking for any type of expression.

“go ahead love, you can ask me anything.” he smiled unsure of where you were going with this but still curious nonetheless.

“can we have sex—withyoudressedupasspiderman?” you rambled so quickly trying your best to not melt away. you’ve never felt your body so hot before you felt as if this was nearly the end.

“okay.” without a second thought peter responded. honestly ever since he’s heard that you liked spiderman it’s all he’s been thinking of. he felt like a pervert but i guess that can be applied to both you. okay wasn’t the answer you were expecting but you never felt such joy.

“REALLY? you’re not messing with me right?? because if you are-“ your defensive words quickly got cut off by a kiss. one that wasn’t as soft as the first one, this one was more harsh with a hint of desperation behind it.

“no. not messing with you at all. i’ll be right back.” your boyfriend hurried off leaving you confused. you sat on your bed all alone with a small pout on your face due to the lack of explanation that came from him.

—★

after nearly an hour you finally heard your doorbell ring. you jumped outta bed and went to go open the door. before fully opening it you looked through the peep hole as you usually did. there stood your slightly less handsome boyfriend. yes, less handsome because he left you alone for almost an entire hour on your birthday. you opened the door to give him a piece of your mind only to stay silent.

all your anger washed away as he stood at your door with a spider-man suit in his hands. you were not expecting that… you pulled him by his shirt inside and slammed the door shut not wanting to waste anymore time. you rushed into your bedroom holding his hand not slowing down your pace for anything.

“where’d you get that?!” you asked shocked by how realistic the suit looked. your boyfriend smiled sheepishly as he tried to come up with some sort of explanation but none were good enough and luckily fell on deaf ears. you were so excited his words didn’t register inside your head. it’s like everything was going in one ear and out the other.

Peter wasn’t an idiot (most of the time), he knew this was risky. the suit he brought was an old one that he had from awhile back. it wasn’t his most recent suit but you being the fangirl you are still recognized it as one of spider-man’s iconic suits. your personal favorite as well. you stared in awe at the material as you ran your hands over it admiring every stitch. it was how you perfectly envisioned it to look and feel. buttery smooth and vibrant.

Peters shaky hands took the suit from your grasp before you can get any ideas. you glanced up at him almost confused as to why he took it away. “I should put it on right?” he asks examining your face. he wasn’t sure what exactly you were thinking about at the moment but the silver lining of excitement crossing your eyes told him everything he needed to know.

“yes!” you nodded frantically. a bit too excited for your own liking. you were so excited you couldn’t even remind yourself to play it cool. this was everything you ever dreamed of. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as you took in everything. from his hair, brown nervous eyes, his shaky breathing, toned body, built arms, and abs. your eyes crossing over every inch of skin he was exposing to you.

you felt your body shiver as he put on the mask. you could feel every single small hair on your arms rise up as your heart beat got louder. goosebumps. a rush of butterflies in your stomach. it felt so real. more real than you could even imagine. your heart itself could’ve froze if it wasn’t for how rapidly it was pounding in your chest.

—★

“are.. are you okay?” spiderman called to you as he laid you gently on your bed. it was his idea to role play a scenario of him rescuing you and you ‘returning the favor’ in your own way.

you almost forgot your own line as you got lost staring into the white eyes of the mask. your stare was so strong it was as if you were trying to look for his brown eyes under the mask.

“no. i think i need some more help.” you pleaded forcing yourself to sit up on your knees, snapping out of your previous thoughts. you raised your hand to lay on his neck pulling him down closer to you. you could hear his breath hitch under the mask.

“are you hurt?” he asks shyly. he never would’ve imagined finding himself in this situation fake or not. he was thankful for the mask that was hiding his blush due to the perfect view he had of your breasts. he could see the dark blue lace of your bra peeking out of your black tank top.

“yes. i feel a lot of pain… here.” you looked at him with innocent eyes as you used your free hand to guide his hand to your right breasts. he had to bite down a groan of his own.

“well-well that’s just not good is it?” he asked breathlessly grabbing your breast harshly as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. “m-mm” you shook your head in agreement.

you felt yourself growing shy by the second when he pushed down both your bra and top exposing your breast to the suddenly cold air. you weren’t sure if the air was actually cold or if it was because your body was so hot. even his suit felt cold against your body, highlighting every inch of heat your body had to offer. despite his fingers being fully covered he can feel the heat radiating from your body through the material. he’s never felt you this warm before it flattered him.

“don’t worry angel, i’ll make you feel better.” he mumbled in your ear. he only lifted his mask halfway up to expose his mouth. you opened your mouth to say something but your thoughts were shut down as he took your breast into his mouth. you couldn’t hold back your moan as he flicked his tongue around your nipple while he used his other hand to massage the other. this felt like too much teasing for your own liking at the moment.

you reached back to unclip your bra and slip off your shirt completely. he stared in awe, sure it wasn’t the first time he saw them but it was the first time Spiderman had the luxury of seeing them firsthand. you scrambled out of your soft cotton gray sweatpants exposing your lace red thong. Peter almost had the wind knocked out of him by the sight. he knew you liked Spiderman but the fact that you wore both his colors as well? it was like a wet dream come true for him.

“y’know it is my birthday… but i don’t mind treating you.” you playfully giggled as you planted yourself on your knees in front of him. Peter was thankful you were still somewhat away from him so you couldn’t hear him gulp. ‘i am not worthy’ he silently thought to himself before pulling his mask back down and pulling down the zipper of his suit. (we’re imagining okay. EVERYTHING STAYS ON IDC)

you’ve seen his member before but it felt so different this time. you kept having to remind yourself this wasn’t Spiderman but nothing ever felt so real before. it’s like your own boyfriend perfectly captured him in this suit. his build was always amazing and you admired it all the time but damn.. this suit works wonders for him doesn’t it? maybe he should be spiderman.

Peter couldn’t help but shrink a little, despite towering over you he felt like you were the one looking down on him. your eyes were so intimidating, it turned him on especially when he couldn’t read your emotions. “oh fuck—feels so good.” he groans when your warm mouth consumes him full. he’ll never get used to that, the way your mouth is perfectly shaped for his dick. you take him in with ease as you bob your head up and down. “your boyfriend’s real lucky. lucky to have this mouth all to himself.” he says somewhat jokingly. he knows how lucky he is to have you.

man he was so cute. you could almost feel your lips curve up into a smile at his praise. he might be dressed as spiderman but that was still your peter parker under there. your sweet loving peter parker. peter always had to fight back the urge not to buck his hips into your throat rapidly. he was well trained, keeping his hands to himself, arms behind his back, groaning sweetly as he throws his head up in bliss. “fuck, so good for spiderman huh?” he didn’t miss the way your moan caused a vibration around the base of his cock.

he swears he could’ve came right there and then when he looked down and saw your pretty mouth make a ‘pop’ sound with giving his head one last suck. the almost invisible string of saliva connecting your lips to the the tip of his pink head. you knew exactly what he was looking at, it’s what he always stares in awe at after you give his reward. you smiled sweetly at him, placing a soft kiss on his tip teasingly.

“you’ll kill me.” he groans. you didn’t even get a chance to stand up on your own as he pulled you up as if you weighed nothing. he planted you on the bed right where he wanted you with your legs spread wide for him, knees bent, feet on the edge of the bed as you laid on your back.

you propped yourself up on your elbows before trying to rise up your hips. “wait- what are you doing?” peter questioned pushing your hips back down with his hands. shit. he was strong. he didn’t even realize how much accidental strength he used when securing your hips back in place. you didn’t dare complain, you found it hot. “don’t you want them off?” you asked with genuine curiosity. was he really planning on not taking them off?

“no… red’s my favorite color.” liar. he lied, it’s not. hell he doesn’t even have a favorite color but after seeing you in red he’s convinced it is. he’s always liked the colors red and blue but now? he loves it. he has more reason to love those colors even more now. he let go of the pressure on your hips and rubbed the spots with his thumbs. it was almost as if he was saying sorry with the gesture, he sure does hope that doesn’t bruise in the morning.

his dick was still left wet and sloppy from the wetness of your mouth. it was coated in a mix of liquids that involved your saliva and his pre-cum. god he loved using your fluids as lube. he pulled your panties to the side, taking a moment to admire the view of you like this. some hair slightly in your face, your pleading eyes filled with anticipation, breasts perky and exposed. normally he’d kiss your entire body starting at your neck going down to the entrance of your cunt. that wasn’t really possible with the mask on so he settled for taking in the view for now.

he teasingly slapped his cock against your pussy making your hips jump at the sudden action. he took this as a sign to keep on hand on your hip in order to make sure you don’t move without permission. he loves to tease. man you thought it was bad when he was just peter parker, it was way worse as spiderman. he would slide himself up and down against your folds. teasingly pushing in the tip of his cock just to take it back out and rub it against your folds once against. you’d whimper at the lost of contact each time.

“peter-“ your voice was cut off by a harsh thrust that left your jaw dropped.

“name’s spiderman.” he reminded you as he filled you up to the brim, only staying there for a second before pulling all the way out and slamming himself back in without warning. he loved the way it brought tears to your eyes.

“oh- fuck!” you screamed as you arched your back involuntarily. he started out with a slow pace but harsh thrusts that made you throw your head back. you wanted to raise your hips but couldn’t as he held them down for you.

“mmmph- feels so good spiderman.” you moaned as he picked up the slack. he loved how your slick covered his cock completely. it left a white creamy ring around the base of his cock that he took the opportunity of admiring it every time he pulled out. he could feel your walls clench around him each time he pulled out as if your pussy was begging him not to leave you.

“so fucking wet for spiderman aren’t you?” he roughly spoke slamming your hips down to meet his cock half way. “yesyes mhm just for spidey.” you absently sobbed as you begin to feel loss in the bliss. your tear filled eyes desperately tried to cling onto the face of the mask. you wanted to remember this moment forever. the one of the friendly neighborhood spider-man pummeling into you as he praised you for being so good to him.

“pussy’s so good for me. taking me so well princess. almost as if you were made to take care of this cock for the rest of your life.” he mumbled under his mask but you still understood every word he said. peter only ever spoke this filthy to you in bed. it was hard to imagine this was the sweet boy you met at school who would stutter over his own words around you at times.

“mhmm. sososogood.” you couldn’t even form an opinion or respond in coherent sentences as you felt every inch of him burry itself into you. you felt your tummy twist on the inside as your climax started to catch up to you. Peter knew you were getting close as your walls suffocated him. closing down on him as your pussy clenched around him. your slick was covered all over him and it began to leak out of you.

he only wondered how you would react if he admitted that he was still holding back. holding back was so painful for him, he questioned if he should allow himself to finally let go. would it be selfish or would you enjoy it as much as him?

“need more please.” you cried, wrapping your legs around his waist. you needed help reaching your high. this sign couldn’t get anymore clear, he finally let go of the deathly grasp he had on your hips. he exchanged it with wrapping one arm underneath your waist holding you up with his pure strength. the other hand of his held your head up to meet his. you loved the mask but you missed his lips. you weakly went to lift up half the mask to expose his pink lips. the ones you familiarized yourself with well enough.

you wasted no time capturing his lips with your own as you held onto his suit with your hands. your kiss was interrupted with your scream as he pummeled himself up into you with no mercy. “oh fuck!fuck-ohmy-feels so gooddd.” you swear you lost all feeling in your body you were amazed at how he was able to keep you up with his strength alone. you threw your head back in pure ecstasy as his lips wrapped around your neck. you felt an incredible amount of sensation that was unmatched. it was like nothing you ever felt before.

you could feel his wet kisses all over you neck, the harsh grasp he had on your waist, one hand still holding tightly to the back of your hair, his hips clashing with your skin, every inch of him being pummeled straight into you, you could feel the tip of his cock slamming itself against your cervix at the end of every thrust. that sweet spot that made your head dizzy and your eyes blur. you never looked more beautiful to Peter as he took note of your facial expression. lips parted as you moaned, eyes closed, tear stained cheeks, and a blush that was spread from your cheeks to your nose.

you felt your body tremble as your orgasm hit. you also felt his cum shoot into your pussy as the amount of liquid in your body began to slip out. you felt the liquid trail down on your inner thighs. your whole body gave out on you as you collapsed against his body. you couldn’t even remember what happened next. the last thing you saw was black as your eyes finally closed one last time. the last thing you felt were the soft cushions of your bed as your body was gently placed down.

after cleaning you up Peter finally took off the mask and suit while you rested sound asleep. he hopes you didn’t put two and two together and he kept you distracted enough. he wanted to do nothing else but lay in bed with you and enjoy the comfort of your body heat a little longer. of course before he could get the chance his phone alerted him a message. it was that time again, to go off and be spiderman for the world once more. he sat next to your bed watching you sleep for a bit longer. you were cuddled up in your blankets and you seemed at peace. he wondered what you were dreaming about.

“happy birthday.” he kissed your forehead and left, feeling bad he couldn’t stay any longer.

—★

the next day at school your legs were as sore as a motherfucker hell. you settled with wearing some low rise sweats and a white t shirt that ended right below your belly button. you decided to sit next to your boyfriend for once at homeroom. the two of you were early so you planted a kiss on his lips before anyone else can get there.

“hey babe, i missed you last night.” you pouted, taking advantage of the empty classroom and sitting on his lap at his desk.

“i’m really sorry i had to go. i missed you too.” he was genuine with his apology. he always was, he hated having to leave you at night especially after intimate moments. he never wanted you to get the impression that he was just sticking around for sex.

you didn’t bother responding. you were still so sleepy from last night you just wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your head into his chest.

“you still tired?” he asks rubbing your back. “mhm” you whined not wanting to get up but knowing you should because anyone can walk in at any moment. you soon jumped out of his lap at the sound of the door creaking open. ugh, it was just flash. you rolled your eyes at the sight of the geek.

“wassup pretty lady. ew- what are you doing next to that thing?” he emphasizes his disgust by making gagging noises at peter.

“certainly not sitting next to you. that’s what.” you replied while putting your hands on your hips. your hips were within eye level of Peter which is when he noticed the light purple bruises sitting right above the hem of your sweatpants.

“whatever your loss babe lemme just tell you-“ flash continued his rambling as he sat down and didn’t bother to look at the two of you any longer.

the sight of your bruises made peter sit up straight as he grabbed your waist to pull you in closer. you felt your cheeks heat up when he pulled the band of your sweatpants down to look at the bruise. he couldn’t really give two shits about what flash was rambling about. his thumb rubbed the bruise as he continued to examine them on both sides. you felt yourself blush furiously at his lack of attention to anything else around the two of you.

“peter.” you scolded quietly, pushing his hands away from your hips. he looked at you with genuine confusion before looking around to notice people were starting to come in. you took back your seat next to him, the blush never leaving your face. you knew he felt bad but you loved the bruises.

“stop worrying, i think you should actually leave more.” you whispered in his ear, now it was his turn to blush.

#spiderman #spiderman x reader #spiderman x you #spiderman smut #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel mcu #marvel fandom #marvel fanfiction #mcu spiderman #sister lucifer’s dividers #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker smut

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thehollowwriter · 4 months ago

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I'm ngl, I think the Spider Verse movies are the best depictions of Spider-man. They embody the very concept of Spider-man perfectly, and I believe this because of the explosive fandom reaction to them, especially the sequel.

So many people from so many backgrounds all over the world started making their own "spider sonas", their own ideas of a spider person. Sure you can just say it's a trend, but people are still doing it now. I've seen disabled Spideys, queer Spideys, Spideys from any country you can think of, Spideys with vastly different designs, aesthetics and personalities, Spideys who are deeply rooted in the creator's culture, yet who are all unquestionably Spidey.

Never before has the message of "anyone can wear the mask" been so true, and never before have so many people believed it.

People saw themselves represented on screen whether it be through the mc or side characters, they saw the limitless potential of so many different dimensions and universes, they saw Miles reject the "canon" and the idea of what Spider-man "has to" be (which is quite clearly at least partially inspired by egotistical and bigoted Spider-Man "fans" who believed there was only one Spider-man and only one way his character could be depicted and only one way his story should be told) and they understood that yes, they were included in the phrase "Anyone can wear the mask"

Spider-man was always such a successful character who everyone wanted to see for a reason. He isn't the same as many other heroes who were all adults and seemed to be in a place most viewers couldn't dream of seeing (rich, a god, a super soldier, etc).

Peter Parker starts out as just some guy, an everyday middle or lower class person who does everyday things like go to school or miss the bus or get fired. Peter was no smooth and classy ladies man, he wasn't a sports star or anything. He was an awkward and shy guy who liked "nerd" stuff.

He, in the words of MJ, "just happened to get bit." It was an accident, a spider bite. He wasn't in the military or creating a powerful suit or anything. He's some guy who got powers and decided to use them to protect people. Just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-man.

Most importantly, he was the first superhero of his kind. Before Spidey, there was no "teenage superhero." There were only adult superheroes, and teenagers only appeared as sidekicks. When Stan Lee suggested a teenage superhero, he was told it was a terrible idea, and nobody would want to see that.

Well, I'm sure all of us in 2024 where the Spider-man IP is worth over $27 billion with ten movies starring Spidey as the mc, and several more where he makes an appearance as a side character, and where Spider-Man: Across the Spider Verse set several box office records and was the sixth highest grossing film of 2023, can see how wrong that was.

Since his conception, Spider-man was a character who defied how things "should be" and took that leap of faith, and it led to greatness. Just like Miles' entire story of becoming Spider-man being completely different from what we've seen so many times before. Just like Miles defying Miguel and carving his own path, even with the threat of "breaking the canon" (which I personally think can be interpreted as a representation of the idea some people have that if you make Spidey "too different", you'll destroy him as a character)

Together, the two Spider Verse movies managed to prove that yes, anyone can wear the mask. You don't need the "right" skin colour or gender or backstory or plot points. Those are not what makes Spider-man who he is, and those are not why people fell in love with his character and concept.

What made Spider-man who he was, was his actions, his compassion, his relatatability, and how he inspired people. He's a hero whose entire appearance is covered by his suit, and yet is not doubted as a hero by those who were saved (plots where the writers want to make him suffer more exluded/hj).

So yeah. I really love the Spider Verse movies. Not just for their animation, music, story, and voice acting, but also for how they managed to embody and challenge the idea of Spider-man and potrayed just why Spidey was so loved.

(I mainly focused on Miles in this lil rant because he's the mc, but if ya'll want to discuss other characters like Gwen please comment or reblog with your thoughts, I'd love to hear them!)

#quinn quips #peter parker #miles morales #miguel o'hara #spider man #spider-man #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spider man: into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #itsv #atsv #spiderman #not twst

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prancingintheshadows · 2 years ago

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I’m really into the meta-narrative of Across the Spider-Verse. They could’ve come up with a different name for canon events, like Stable Dimension Events or some other made up nonsense, but the term canon events really paints it this as a conversation about adaptations on Spider-Man and his various off shoots. Hell, it could apply to comics and adaptations as a whole. Is it still Spider-Man if he doesn’t get Uncle Ben or some equivalent killed? Is it really Batman if he doesn’t vow to never kill? Even if it looks like Ultron, is it still Ultron if it’s origin and personality are different?

And it’s kinda the perfect subject matter to be tackled by Miles, the Spider-Man who gets to be his own Spider-Man. Look at the vast majority of the named spider people in this movie. They’re either based on existing people in Spider-Man’s story or they’re some permutation of Peter Parker. Miles isn’t another Peter nor is he a ‘what if this character was bit instead of Peter’. Miles exists purely to be the next Spider-Man after his Spider-Man died. There aren’t any expectations to play out the same story as Peter, because Peter’s story was already played out in his world. He has every right to make his own story, play by his own rules, go through adventures no other Spider has gone through. Every Peter has Uncle Ben die, but Miles’ call to action is never consistent. Ultimate comics had his mom die, Into the Spider-Verse had his uncle, and PS4 Spider-Man had his dad. Miles’ story is fluid in a way no other Spider’s is because he’s ironically not running in Peter’s shadow and established story. He’s an anomaly because every universe has runs on one Spider logic except his.

Which is also why Miguel’s such a fascinating choice as the antagonist. Because, a lot of what I can say about Miles could be said about Miguel. Traditionally, the Spider-Man of the year 2099 isn’t an alternate dimension Spider, he’s just a Spider-Man from a time after the original’s run. He is, just like Miles, the second Spider-Man who exists after Peter’s demise. And just like Miles, he doesn’t have to play by Peter’s rules, having a vastly different tone and manifestation of powers. So it’s also perfect that Miguel’s positioned against Miles specifically because he’s tried going against the flow, going against ‘canon’ and has suffered for it.

So the narrative is about two Spider-Men who can write their own story, fighting over whether or not they can deviate from the template set by the original story and if their story could survive it. Into the Spider-Verse said anyone can be Spider-Man. Across the Spider-Verse asks if Spider-Man is allowed to be anyone other than the Spider-Man.

#across the spiderverse #atsv spoilers

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as-para-gus · 2 years ago

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Miles' universe is Blank.

Right at the beginning of the movie, the lady explains that its her job to 'capture his universe', but she has no idea who this kid is, so she has nothing written.

Miles is the 'original' anomaly, who—according to Miguel—was never meant to be spiderman. It makes sense that no one quite knows what to expect.

But hold on a second, in a universe where spiderman already existed, would changing a canon event still be catastrophic when they've technically already happened?

If it is, why hasn't the universe where Miles' spider came from collapsed in on itself like Miguel claims it should? Because the spider never bit Peter Parker in that universe, I'd say that several canon events have changed, but other than chaos due to lack of a spiderman, the universe has yet to tear itself apart.

Why do they listen to Miguel anyway? Oh right, because he's experienced it the consequences of changing canon events. But in that case, wouldn't that make him the original anomaly?

It would make sense, both him and Miles have distinct powers that seperate themselves from the other spiders, like invisibility or vampire-esque teeth.

Dont let all the different versions of spiderman confuse you, they all have things in common—outside of canon events—and Miguel is an outlier in all of them.

No humor, distinct webs, and whatever the hell he injected himself with aside, Miguel has not only lost sight of what it means to be spiderman, but also managed to drag everyone down with him.

Maybe thats why Miguel makes such a good antagonist, because I dont know about you, but alot of what he explained made sense. I found myself even agreeing—greater good and all that. Sure it sucks, but thats the responsibility of Spiderman right?

But wait. When did spiderman become so cynical? As of now, Miguel is not Spiderman. Maybe he never was. I hope for Miles sake thats not true.

But back on topic. Just like that lady at the very start, Miguel also has no idea who this kid is, or how his universe is going to turn out - and thats a little scary. Especially when its possible Miles can achieve everything he wasnt able to. There are a million reasons why Miguel's univeres collaped in on itself, and I'm not inclined to take his word.

#across the spiderverse #i might come back and edit this #i just needed to get all my thoughts out #miles morales #miguel o'hara #spiderverse #spiderman

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spiderfunkz · 14 days ago

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─── ⋆ WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I WAS A SPIDER?

pairings. peter parker x fem!reader

cw. fluff, established relationship, reader is described as a ‘weird girl’ who has a huge obsession with insects and such.

author’s note: this is a part two of miss ladybug! so i suggest reading that first. i really like this pairing and i enjoy writing for them, my requests for peter are still open if you’d like to share some of your ideas 🙃🙃 special dedication to @ghostlyfleur btw <3

edit: part one | part three

peter parker isn’t as mysterious as he thinks he is. to most peers, he’s just another nerd who runs the photography team like it’s an elite competition— and obviously, he is winning it. he has messy hair that eerily resembles a squirrel’s tail, glasses that seem a bit to big for him, a skateboard that he always carries, and a stupid smile that now melts you like ice cream.

not to mention his sweet dimples. sometimes you see him as a helpless little millipede on the side of the road after a stormy day, that captures peter’s entire essence very well to you.

and that’s exactly what he looks like in your eyes as of now— hair wet, glasses broken in his hand, he has lost his skateboard somehow, and he’s still smiling like an absolute dork outside of your door.

“hi, ladybug— could you let me in, please?” peter smiles, teeth shining.

you move to the side, gesturing him to step inside. his hair is covering most of his forehead but you can’t help but notice a sting of red near his left side. you sigh, “you know, you look like the tarantula i lost in eight grade.”

peter’s ears perk up, “a tarantula?”

you nod, “mhm. it’s cold here, my room’s warmer.”

indeed it was. the room was lit only by fairy lights and two tiffany lamps. it wasn’t dark— it’s cozy. books are scattered around your desk, there were multiple posters up of insect anatomy, framed beetles & butterflies, and a lot of patterned-blankets.

“are you okay?”

he nods. you don’t really buy that, “you should probably move your hair to the right side, you don’t want it touching the wound you have on your left side.”

peter stands still, “what? i don’t— i don’t have a wound..”

“peter, i can see the red under your hair. the blood’s running down your skull— it’s probably mixed with rain water now and you should get that cleaned like right now!”

you pout, “what did you do now? and don’t say it’s because of your skateboard again ‘cos you don’t even have it right now!”

he thinks for a second. “i’m sorry, ladybug. but, before i answer that question could i ask one first?”

“what are you—”

“would you still love me if i was a spider? maybe like your eight grade tarantula?” he shrugs,

“huh? yes? yes. i’d still love you if you were a spider, peter parker. even if you were my eight grade tarantula that i lost and mourned for. now, what does that have to do with anything?”

peter hesitates, “i need you to sit down,”

“you’re scaring me,”

“it’s not as scary as you think.”

“is that suppose to reassure me?”

he nods before exhaling quite dramatically, “ladybug, i’m spider-man. that’s why my skull is bleeding red, why my skateboard is gone, and why i show up with scars snd bruises. and that’s also why i ask for you to accompany me to get ice packs.”

you sigh, in relief.

“i knew it.”

“what?”

“i called it!” you giggle. peter looks at you in disbelief, or confusion, or both.

“how— do you just know everything?”

“that’s why you always freak out when i call you spider-man. and maybe that’s how you got your name in the first place, if so, i want credit for it. and also, it’s kinda obvious..”

peter furrows his brows.

“you’re always on delivered when spider-man is reported to be on patrol. the day after the computer lab i did research on my device as it just finished getting repaired, and i sort of found a lot—”

peter blinks, “so, you do know everything.”

“i have my ways.”

“what are you? miraculous the ladybug?”

“i guess you’re not the only one with a secret identity then.”

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weyirn · 2 years ago

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

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

Spiderverse x Male!Reader

Marvel Preferences: They React To You Being Shy But Badass

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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brokebonewritings · 3 months ago

Text

Dinnertime Confessions

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags: 18+, Slice of Life, Fluff, Domestic Bliss

Summary: You invite your cousin Peter over for dinner. Peter and Matt become aware of each other's after hour hobbies. Song: Young Tonight by Plain White T's

Word Count: 1.2K

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Peter shifts in his seat uncomfortably as the silence around the table becomes deafening. It felt like the air was just hanging. You had invited your cousin over to have dinner with Matt and yourself since they seemed to hit it off well on their first encounter. Maybe it was some weird teenager thing.

You clear your throat and turn to Peter, “How’s school going? You’re at that fancy tech school right?”

“Oh!” He jumps in his seat a bit, “Yeah, Midtown High. Yeah! It’s great, I love it there.”

You nod happily and turn my head to look at Matt. He also looks very uncomfortable but in his own grumpy pout. You tap his leg under the table and see a soft smile replace his frown.

“A-are you guys planning any wedding stuff yet?” Peter asks quietly, and you smile.

“Not yet, but I will call Aunt May when we do!” you reply, “I know you both want to be apart of the process.”

“Of course! You’re our family.” He says simply.

Matt then clears his throat, “So, Peter, Do any sports or extracurriculars?”

Silence falls over the table at his sudden question. You look to my cousin who looks extremely uncomfortable.

“Pete, you alright?” You ask

“Huh?” He says coming out of his small daze, “Oh! Yeah! I’m fine… Uh I do Academic Decathlon, and I intern…”

“You intern?” You ask, “Where at?”

“Stark Industries.”

“Huh.” Matt lets out.

“Okay, what is going on with the both of you?” You finally ask, looking between your cousin and Matt.

Earlier that evening

“You’re on the wrong side of New York, Spiderman.”

Daredevil stood on the rooftop near your apartment. The unwelcome visitor sat on the light fixture nearby. It wasn’t every day the web slinger was around Hell’s Kitchen

“Sorry, Mr. Devil. Was just in the area!” He replied.

“Don’t stay too long, it’s not safe for a kid like you.”

“What? Hey man, I’m not a kid!”

Yes he was. Matt knew exactly who Spiderman was. Thanks to his “super devil hearing” as you liked to call it.

It took one Spiderman visit after meeting your cousin for Matt to figure out who it was. Was he surprised? Yes, very. Did he trust Spiderman? Not in the slightest. Did he trust Peter Parker? The boy had his charm.

“Get back to Queens, Kid.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m looking out for someone.” Spiderman said sternly. “So I'm just gonna hang out for 15 more minutes then I'll leave, promise!”

Matt sighed loudly before nodding. “You have 15 minutes. Then get out of my part of town.” With that, he disappeared into the smoke.

Weird dude. Peter thought. He didn’t normally don his webslinger outfit in Hell’s Kitchen, but he figured he would patrol before having dinner with his favorite cousin.

He still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched though. Deciding it was time to head to your place, he swung to the top of your building and changed into his streetwear.

Peter rushes down the stairs to your floor and enters your hallway. Stopping dead in his tracks, he sees a familiar figure standing next to your door. It was Matt, dressed in what seemed to be his work attire.

“Hey Matt!” Peter called out and ran down the hall. He saw the older man turn to him with a frown on his face.

“We need to talk.” He said simply, causing Peter to stumble a bit.

“Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

“I know who you are, Peter Parker.” The gruff voice replies. “I know you’re Spider-Man.”

“Huh?”

Peter felt his heart stop at Matt's words. He had always been cautious about revealing his identity to anyone outside of his close circle, and the fact that Matt, his cousin’s fiancé, knew his secret was unsettling.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Peter tried to play it cool. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Matt. I'm just a regular high school student."

Matt's expression remained impassive, his blind eyes seemingly staring right through Peter. "Don't insult my intelligence, kid. I can hear the timber of your voice clear as day.”

The teen realized that there was no point in denying it any longer. He nodded slowly,

"Okay, fine. You caught me. I'm Spider-Man."

Matt nodded in acknowledgment before speaking again. "You need to tell your cousin.”

“What? No way!”

“You never know, they might be more accepting of it than most people.”

“I can’t! I can’t, not now, not ever.”

Matt sighs, “Do it, or I will.”

“No! Wait, please!” Peter grabs Matt’s wrist. “Does she know about you?”

“Of course.”

Peter stands back for a moment, thinking, Matt’s words echoing. He’s brought back to reality as you nudge his arm.

“Peter, what’s going on?” You push gently. “Are you alright?”

He stands quickly. “I think I have to go!”

“What?”

“Yeah, Like tons of homework and band practice.”

“It's Saturday at 8pm.”

Matt stands suddenly, “Wait.”

You and Peter turn to look at Matt as he gets up.

“He’s upset because of me.” He confesses, “I may have run into him earlier while coming back home from…work.”

Peter shifts uncomfortably as you turn to look at him.

“You know about…”

“Yes.” He starts, “but…I…”

He trails off and you place a hand on his shoulder.

“I have a secret too.” He continues. “I did see Matt…but only because I was also ‘working’”

He lowers his head and you nod in understanding. “So you too?…”

The younger man nods and looks up at you, “I’m Spider-Man.”

You stand there gawking at Peter for a moment before turning to Matt. He stood quietly as you and Peter had this interaction.

“Matt…did you?…”

“No.” he says roughly before you turn back to Peter.

“Does Aunt May know?”

“No! At least, not yet…”

As you stood there, trying to wrap your head around the situation, Peter glanced nervously between you and Matt. Your fiance’s presence beside you was a grounding force as you processed this new reality. You glance at Peter and you can see the fear in his eyes. The uncertainty of how you would respond to his truth was evident. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward and enveloped Peter in a tight hug.

"I'm proud of you, Peter," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "I can't imagine the weight you've been carrying on your shoulders all this time."

Peter was taken aback by your response, his eyes widening in surprise. Slowly, he returned the hug, feeling a wave of relief wash over him at your acceptance.

“I just… I was scared how you would react, and I don’t want to put you in danger.” Peter mumbled, his voice muffled by the embrace.

You pulled back slightly to look into Peter's eyes, a reassuring smile on your face. "You're family, Peter. And family supports each other no matter what.”

Matt stepped forward, placing a hand on Peter's shoulder. “I told you she would be understanding.”

Peter let out a nervous chuckle, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.

After dinner, you all washed the kitchen and sent Peter home with leftovers. When you and Matt were finally alone and settled in bed you finally said, “I knew this whole time.”

You see Matt’s lips form into a smile, “Heard us through the door?”

A small laugh escapes your lips.

“Yeah, you both are really loud for stealth heroes.”

join my taglist! || Taglist: @alexxavicry @moncherriis @vioplay19 @skulliecadaver-blog @emma23

#matt murdock #peter parker #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #spiderman fanfic #spiderman #daredevil #daredevil fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #songfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #matt murdock fluff

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sweetimpurity · 11 months ago

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“I don’t know why you kept running, I always catch you!” Miguel yells. He’s got you cornered in a dead end hallway on a random floor in HQ. After a long and tiring chase through HQ’s halls and vast spaces, you’re both here. It was a fight that started this. A fight about Miles and the fate of the multiverse. Where you seem to agree with Miles and want to help him, Miguel disagrees.

Peter and Jess will never understand the perpetual cycle of need and hatred you both feel towards each other. The two of you always butt heads on everything. From who’s leading what mission to the font on mission reports. Everything has to be a fight, an argument, a screaming match. It’s a miracle you haven’t quit yet, or that Miguel hasn’t thrown you out the window by now. And yet every time you storm off, he always chases after you.

“You are so stubborn it’s exhausting!” You yell in his face, watching him stalk towards you as you’re desperately trying to catch your breath from running so fast. Leaning back against the wall, your lungs burning from the exertion. “Maybe if you’d just agree with me, just once, then we wouldn’t have to waste our time running around!” He yells, his voice booming back down the empty hallway. “Instead you have to act like the little brat you are, a little princess!” He spits with venom, trying to break you down.

“You’re the princess! You need everyone to just do what you say all the time, you’re just… you-” You yell, stammering over your words a bit and he presses one hand to each side of your head against the wall. You don’t even notice at first, you’re so wound up, but he’s trying to intimidate you with his size. “Yeah say what you need to say, princesa, I’ll wait.” He says mockingly, watching you unable to find the proper words as you’re still simultaneously catching your breath. “Shut up!” You yell, slapping him hard across the face.

He’s stunned for a second. It wasn’t hard enough for him to really be affected by it but he’s not just gonna let it slide “Did you just slap me?” He yells. “Yeah! I slapped you! And you deserve it!” You squirm to escape the enclosure of his body but he puts his hands on your hips to stop you from moving, his thighs on either side of yours to keep you from leaving. “Stop moving around!” He yells as you squirm, his frustration growing. “Let me go, asshole!” You slap him again, and his grip on you tightens, grabbing your wrists to stop you from doing it again. “Princesa, you’re acting crazy right now.” His voice drops an octave, his cheek growing slightly pink from your hand across it. “I’ll do it again.” You threaten, and his eyes flash with something. “Do it again.” He demands, letting go of your hands to give you the option. But you know it’s not that simple. “Do it again and see what happens.”

Your eyes narrow, wondering what the catch is, knowing there must be one. His eyes burning holes into yours. “No.” You huff, crossing your arms defiantly. “C’mon, princesa, I’m giving you the green light, slap me again.” He says mockingly. “Stop calling me that.” You demand, scowling up at him. “Slap. Me. Again. And see what happens.” He practically growls, staring you down. You have half the mind to just do it. What would he do? The worst he can do is hit you back, right? And you’ve fought countless villains before, this shouldn’t be too different.

The silence is heavy as the tension is between you. His eyes just daring you to do it. “Come on princess!!” He shouts. And your hand meets his red cheek for the third time.

Smack! And it’s all happening at once, you slap him, he makes his move, smashing buttons on his watch and your holographic spider suit disappears. Leaving you completely naked.

“Ahhh!” You scream, instantly covering up, a flush on your cheeks and goosebumps over your whole body. “The fuck is wrong with y-” And his mouth is on yours, his hands grabbing at your hair, keeping your mouth locked with his. His tongue in your mouth, his talons pricking at the back of your neck. He’s not kissing, he’s devouring, pressing you up against the wall, pressing his knee between your legs, his clothed thigh against your bare beating pussy.

You want to yell at him more, cuss him out, punch and scream. But all you can think is “thank Jesus… finally…”

Moans leave your throat, escaping into his mouth, his body moving to press into you more. He manages to press some more buttons, his own suit disappearing in an instant, and you feel his warm skin on yours. He’s so warm, in fact, he’s sweltering hot. You remember him giving you that suit. One of nanotech like his own. He said it was because he needed you to not be reckless and get yourself killed. He needed you to protect the multiverse and this suit offered much more protection than the old spandex. And while that was true, he also gave it to you so he could monitor your body. Like knowing when your hormones change or when you’re hurt. And like right now having total control and instant access to you and already knowing that you’ve been dripping wet for him ever since you stormed out of his office.

“I told you… something would happen… you never listen…” He pants between suffocating kisses, moving to your neck, his teeth biting marks into your skin, sucking and kissing all your sweet spots he’s able to find in seconds. You just moan at this, hands running up his bare arms, eyes closed but you’re able to feel every sculpted muscle, the hair on his forearms, the veins bulging. “So wet, princess…” He whispers, hand moving down between your flushed thighs and playing with you, collecting your slick on his fingers and running his fingertips down your slit to where you need him most, plunging two fingers inside with no warning.

“Ngh!” You whine at the instant stretch and slight burn. Slapping the back of his shoulder, fingers digging into his skin. He looks down at you, grinning evilly. “Fuck you…” You groan, knowing he did that on purpose. “But you’re dripping princesa, they just slide right in…” He mumbles, smiling at your pout, and his lips are back on yours, sucking at your lips and the tip of your tongue. His fingers start their rhythm, pumping in and out, curling at just the right time to hit all the perfect spots. “M-Miguel!” You gasp, head throwing back against the wall, hips rolling up into his hand. You just can’t help it.

“Feels good?” He grins, kissing over your cheeks and biting at your jaw. Teasing you as your walls melt down. “F-fu-uck y-you…” You breathe out, withering away from his touch. Bound to become a puddle on the floor. “Good…” He hums, flicking his fingers inside, feeling for when your walls squeeze and continuing that motion the same way over and over again. His thumb presses to your clit as his fingers work inside, your beating bundle of nerves soothed and stimulated by the pad of his finger working in small controlled circles.

Eyes closed, kissing him back sloppily, you reach down, finding his dick hard and heavy for you against his stomach, feeling its length and size in the palm of your hand. Hearing his breath hitch against your lips as you grip him, pressing your thumb to his tip. “Ugh.. turn around…” He husks, pulling back and pushing you to face the wall, your breasts pushing up against the cold metal, his hands on your hips instantly. “Haaa….” He breathes out in relief when his tip runs through your puffy folds, just dripping for him as always. But you’d never let him know that before.

Without another word he slowly sinks in, relishing in the gasps that escape your kissed lips, his hands moving all over you, feeling all the nerves in his body exploding and tingling at once. “M-Mig- ah!” You gasp and whine, reaching behind you, grabbing onto his wrist, his fingers soon entwining with yours. One hand in yours and the other reaching around, splaying out on your stomach as he starts pushing into you, pulling out and back in again. “Haa… so warm princesa… so tight…” He groans next to your ear as he makes shallow thrusts within you, stretching you out, his tip gradually delving deep enough to hit your cervix. You whine at the slight sting, back arching and pressing your chest and face to the wall in front of you, and he plants kisses on your shoulder, moving to your neck and biting down on your skin. It all descends into madness, his hips snapping into your ass, both his hands entwining with yours, holding them behind your back. Panting like a hound and humping into you against the wall. Neither of you are able to care about any unlucky spider-people who would potentially walk down this way.

“I-I’m gonna cummmm…. Miguel!” You whine, gasping and flushed all over, losing your mind on his big dick. “Not yet… not yet.” He scolds softly. You whimper, already feeling that ache in your tummy, the one that tells you you’re close. He keeps going, grunting and growling in your ear. “Wait wait- someone’s coming!” You whine, your spider sense suddenly alerting you to someone walking up the stairwell that leads to this hall. “No one’s coming.” He husks, his lack of spidey tingle keeping him unaware. “No no really!” You whimper, your knees buckling when his fingers come back in contact with your clit. He only believes you when his super sensitive hearing picks up on the click of the door latch at the end of the hall. Grabbing you and pushing through the door to your right. His security clearance opens the door right away and you both burst inside. A vacated office, dark and littered with old boxes and filing cabinets. He’s grabbing you, your chest pressed to his now and your fingers in his hair, kissing him deep and sloppy, your orgasm dying down the longer he’s not inside anymore. In his haste, you both bump into a filing cabinet, the metal making a loud crash and bang once it meets the floor. The box of old tech falls on the floor adding to the noise. He lifts you onto the big metal desk, shoving everything off, the smash and thud of everything just adding to the cacophony of sounds from inside this room.

“Stop breaking everything!... fucking animal!” You yell and frown at him, smothered by his lips and his hands all over, his strength pressing you down flat on the desk. “Just hold still! Squirming all over the place!” He scolds, a smile on his face and you swear you heard him giggle. This beast of a man giggling as he mounts the desk hovering over you. You can’t help but smile and try to stop yourself from laughing. “C’mon…work with me here…” He pants, pushing his hair back and out of his face as he nestles his hips between your thighs, his big dick slipping in so deep and easy. “Ah!” You squeal. “Mmm!” He grunts. And you’re both moaning, groaning, grinding into the other, chasing that sweet release as any sense of reason flies right out the window.

…

“Should we go check on them?” Jess sighs, glancing at Peter across the desk. The two of them waiting in Miguel’s office, patiently all this time, assuming the two of you would return at some point and you could continue with this meeting. “No, I’m sure they can handle it… they just need to work things out.” Peter says optimistically, fidgeting with a random piece of machinery that was laid out on Miguel’s desk. The two of them just fiddling their thumbs and waiting for you two to come back.

“D’you try that new burger in the cafeteria?” Peter asks. Jess shakes her head, checking the time and crossing her arms. “It’s the Spider-Ham… burger…” Peter laughs. Looking pretty proud of himself. “Did you come up with that yourself?” She raises a brow, eyes narrowed, unimpressed. His smile fades. “No.”

“Hm.”

…

“Mm fuck… take it all… all that fucking cum…” He grunts in your ear, pumping his second load into you as you’re pulsing from your third orgasm. By this point you’re ass up, titties smushed on the desktop, his enormous size humping over you, the arch in your back almost painful with how hard he’s giving it to you. “Ahh-hhh…” A fluttering moaning sigh escapes you, riding out your last orgasm but he doesn’t stop and you feel the next one building up already.

“M-Mig… mmmm…” You moan and hum, cockdrunk and soft like silly putty, malleable for his use. “You sound so pretty…” He breathes out, panting but it doesn’t stop him. “Pretty little slut…”

His hands go in your hair again, pulling it back just so he can hear you whine again. “Mmm-ah!” You whimper and gasp, jaw falling open as he pounds into you as if you haven’t been going at this for four rounds straight. He pushes into you, in deep, toe curling pulses, his dick gliding perfectly past all the spots that have you melting.

Squeak squeak squeak squeak squeak. The desk adds to the noise. The structure shaking with his unending, ever powerful thrusts. Squeak squeak creak creak pop! And you’re both gasping as the desk gives out from under you, one side going down as you both slide down the desktop tilting towards the floor. It all happens in a blur of seconds and as he pushes on top of you, his dick goes deeper than ever. Ripping a gasping scream from your throat. “Mm-AHH-hhhhaa!!”

He manages to catch himself by the time you both slide to the floor. The arch in your back even deeper as your lower half is elevated on the slanted desktop. But it doesn’t stop Miguel. He keeps pounding you, grabbing at your hands and pulling them back.

“I can’t… I can’t ah!” You whine, completely overwhelmed and fucked out. Eyes rolling back as he reaches unimaginable depths. “I win…” He grins, panting and trying his best to keep fucking you with all his might. “I won, say I win.” He chuckles, his hand rubbing over your back in a stark contrasting tenderness. “I win.” You smile deliriously, knowing that’s not what he wanted to hear. His hand meets your red and raw ass cheek. “Mm! Fuck!” The gasp fills your chest but the slap makes you squeeze around him, your orgasm burning in your thighs and your stomach. “You never learn, do you?” He rasps in your ear, leaning over you, his chest pressing down to your back as his hips piston into you with undying fervor. “No…” You sigh, eyes fluttering closed and moaning sweetly as the waves wash over you, his face falling into the crook of your neck as your bodies move as one, a live grenade about to blow.

“Ohhh… Miguel!” Your moans really are music to his ears and with a few final thrusts he’s pushing deep inside. Spurting right at your cervix, pumping you full and raw for the third time as you tremble and pulse around him. Legs like jello and shaking all over. “Haa…” He sighs, arms wrapped around you as the movement eventually and finally stops. The room stilling, coming down from madness as you both come down from all that just happened.

“Oh my god…” You sigh, sweating and worked out. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, looking around to try and move from this precarious position half propped up on the collapsed desktop. He carefully pulls out and lifts your hips to lay more comfortably flat on the floor. “Hey. You okay?” He asks again, sitting up next to you, brushing some hair out of your face as he looks over you. “Mm… yeah” You sigh, catching your breath as the aftershocks pulse through your nerves.

He leans down, kissing your shoulder a few times, resting his head in one hand and laying beside you, looking down at you. Among the mess and disaster this room has been made into. “How’s your back?” He asks and you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. “Broken!” You whine, slapping his arm with the back of your hand. He giggles, hiding away from your gentle slaps, knowing he really pushed your limits just now. Soon he grabs your hand, pulling to his lips, kissing your palm and the backs of your knuckles. The line between loving and hating him getting thinner all the time.

#please i need him #i need him so bad #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #artists on tumblr #miguel fanart #miguel spiderverse #artists on tiktok #smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguelohara #miguel ohara fanart #miguel x you #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara smut

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lowkeyhollland · 3 months ago

Text

bed chem

peter parker x reader heeeaaaavily inspired by 'The Room Incident' by lemonsandlimes on ao3 you & peter are roommates, but the absolute complete opposite of each other. or are you? chapter one -> chapter two

You put the finishing touches on your makeup, giving yourself one last look in the mirror to approve your appearance. Slipping into a mini black dress, you paired it with black knee-high boots and grabbed your oversized jean jacket. Checking the pockets to make sure you had everything, you turned off the lights in your room and headed out.

“I’m going out tonight, Peter!” you told your roommate as you walked toward the front door, passing the living room. He and his friends were having a movie night, most of them focused on the screen.

“Okay, be safe,” he said, not taking his eyes off the movie.

“I’ll share my location with you.” You opened your phone to the Find My Friends app, hitting the 'Share Until the End of Day' feature with Peter.

“Sounds good,” Peter responded, feeling bad if he didn’t say anything. You glanced back one last time before heading out, hearing one of his friends ask, “Who was that?” as you left.

You had just moved into this new apartment about three weeks ago, right before the start of a new school year. Last semester, your previous roommate decided to drop out of school and move back home, leaving you both roommate-less and homeless. One of your friends had told you about Peter and how he was looking for a roommate since his apartment was getting a bit pricey for him. After a few weeks of getting to know each other, it seemed like you both would be a great fit as roommates, even though you were quite the opposite of each other.

You had fallen in love with the nightlife of New York during your first year of college, never turning down the chance to go out and party. Meanwhile, your roommate, Peter, stayed in more often or had work. Actually, you didn’t know much about him; tonight was the first time you had seen him with his friends. You felt bad because you had already had a few sleepovers with your best friend to break in the new place.

Locking up the door behind you, you made your way out into the city that never sleeps and to your friend’s apartment to pregame.

The night was still young, but you were a shot too deep. Stumbling along the sidewalk, your friends helped guide you home. It was definitely one way to kick off the new school year.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” your best friend, Kiara, asked. You nodded and hugged her in thanks as she helped you up to your floor.

The jingle of your keys echoed softly through the hallway, but you made sure to unlock the door quietly in case Peter was awake. The main lights were off, leaving the kitchen dimly lit by the glow of the cabinet underlights. On the counter, something caught your eye—a glass of water, a couple of painkillers, and a sticky note.

Hope ur not too drunk! Drink this and take some painkillers before u sleep. Trust. — Peter :P

You smiled to yourself, fiddling with the corner of the note. Taking the painkillers, you downed the water and already started to feel a little better. Back in your room, you stuck the sticky note on your wall, adding it to a collage of film pictures, posters, and other notes from friends.

After rushing through your night routine, you finally crawled into your cozy bed, turned on your heated blanket, and fell asleep in seconds.

Thump!

You jolted awake at the sound of something hitting the wooden floor. Heart pounding, you grabbed your phone and turned on the flashlight—only to find yourself staring at someone dressed in red spandex lying on your floor.

“...Ow,” the stranger groaned.

Frozen in place, you weren’t sure what to do. The masked figure sat up, glancing around your room, taking in the pink sheets and fairy lights.

“Um... Spider-Man?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Sorry, miss. I, uh, must’ve made a—ow—mistake,” he mumbled, his voice low.

Your flashlight moved lower, revealing rips in his suit and blood gushing out of his side.

“Oh my God! Oh my God!” you panicked, stumbling out of bed and helping him prop himself against it. “Let me grab the first-aid kit!”

“No, it’s okay. Just... just give me a minute,” Spider-Man tried to reassure you, but by the time he glanced up, your door was wide open, your bed empty.

Moments later, you returned with the kit and some towels. “Okay, here we go. I’m not an expert or anything, but—wow, that’s a lot of blood. Um...” You fumbled with an alcohol swab and started cleaning his wound.

Spider-Man winced, small groans escaping as you worked. Trying not to freak out, you avoided looking directly at the blood.

“Here—just, um—” He grabbed your hand, pressing it and the towel against his side. “Apply pressure. That should stop the bleeding.”

“Got it,” you whispered, focusing intently.

“How’s your night going?” he asked, his voice lighter now despite the pain.

“It’s... alright. Drank a little more than I should’ve, but my roommate is the sweetest—he left water and Advil for me. Definitely had a night.”

“I can tell,” he chuckled, “by the smudged mascara.” Your face flushed with embarrassment as you let your hair fall forward to hide it. Spider-Man reached out, gently tucking your hair behind your ear.“Sorry—not in a bad way. You still look beautiful.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” you stammered, caught off guard. “You’re, uh, pretty cool too. I think. I mean, you probably are, but I’ve only known you for, like, an hour—so I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“You’re cute when you ramble,” he chuckled, ruffling your hair.

After bandaging him up, Spider-Man stood, steadying himself. “This has been fun,” he said, stepping toward the window. “i’m gonna go now, it was nice meeting you…”

“y/n,” you finished his sentence. he repeated your name under his breath, hearing how it sounds from his mouth. He thanked you once again for fixing him up.

“Will I see you again, Spidey?” you asked as he hesitated on the fire escape. He paused, the mask hiding his expression.

“Anything for you, beautiful. Goodnight.” And with that, he swung into the night, disappearing into the darkness. You curled back into bed, unsure if the night’s events were real, and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The morning sun woke you, and to your relief, you didn’t have a hangover. Slipping into your slippers and university hoodie, you headed to the kitchen.

“Morning,” Peter greeted you.

“Good morning,” you replied, grabbing iced coffee from the fridge. You mixed it with creamer and ice, savoring the start of your day. “I had the weirdest night.”

“Oh yeah?” Peter raised an eyebrow as he served you a plate of eggs.

“Yeah. I might’ve been way too drunk... or Spider-Man paid me a visit last night.” You thought you heard Peter choke on his coffee, but you were too focused on your plate to notice.

“Must’ve been a wild night,” he said.

“Yeah... for sure,” you replied, unsure how to interpret his reaction.

The rest of the morning passed in small talk—shows Peter was watching, what you and your friends did last night. But as the day went on, you couldn’t shake the thought of the masked hero.

-> chapter two

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #spiderman #college!peterparker #roommates au

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xbellaxcarolinax · 2 years ago

Text

Futile Devices

Miguel O'Hara x civilian f!reader

Summary: The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.

Word Count: 8.2k (A behemoth of a fic, I'm so sorry guys)

Warnings: FWB, language, angst, reader is totally in love with Miguel, Miguel being a bit of an ass, probably a tad toxic? SMUT, p in v (no protection), cum play, low-key breeding kink? Like super low-key. Oral (f receiving). Miguel climbing through windows. Idk why I'm obsessed with that thought lmfao I make him climb through windows every chance I get. Idiots in love. Probably a rushed ending, sorry!

Thanks to @whatthefishh for beta-reading. Partly inspired by this.

Also, this is mega ultra cliche, we all know they're gonna end up together, so just enjoy the ride! It's not the destination, it's the journey 😌 Hope you guys enjoy, and if you do, pls let me know what you think! I love reading your comments!

MDNI pls.

...

It was always a mission getting to Miguel's office.

Headquarters wasn't built to accommodate civilians, the winding pathways and corridors a danger if one wasn't too careful.

You had to be extra careful.

You hurried toward Miguel's office, heels clicking against clean tiled floors as you dodged a fuck ton of spider people and the inescapable attention of one annoying Peter Parker.

"Come on," Peter Parker number two hundred tried his luck again, "just one date. I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go."

"No." You rolled your eyes, swatting him with the manilla folder in your hands like you would a fly.

“Look, all I’m saying is you should give me a shot. I’m funny.”

“So is every other Peter Parker I’ve encountered.”

“I’m different.”

“I doubt it.”

He deflated, keeping up with your quick steps. “Who doesn’t like funny guys?”

“Me.”

“Sure,” he stretched the word out, unconvinced, "so if not funny guys then what? The ones with sticks up their asses, like Miguel?" He snorted with a shake of his head. You knew it was a sort of rhetorical question but you couldn’t help swallowing thickly, your hands gripping the folder a little too tightly.

Yeah. Something like that.

You felt your heart drop to your stomach when Peter Parker two hundred raised his brows at your silence. So maybe he did want an answer.

"Nah, there's no way. I'll try again tomorrow." He smiled, shooting a web out in some random direction and swinging off toward the floor above.

Fuck. That was close.

You breathed a sigh of relief, loosening your fingers over the folder before quickly hurrying toward your destination.

You pressed your watch against the sensor outside of Miguel's office, waiting for the metal door to slide open. It didn't. You tried again. Still nothing. Again. It wouldn't budge.

"Ugh, come on, Miguel!" You banged the door with a tiny fist as if that would make a difference, "open up!"

Lyla appeared suddenly, her sprite-like form circling your head once before she faced you.

"You probably shouldn't go in there," she warned, "he's in a…mood."

"He’s always in a mood," your hands were on your hips now, the manilla folder crinkling further in your hand, "I need to report a couple of grievances—"

"Mmmmmm, I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to hear right now, Miss HR." God you hated when they called you that. You rolled your eyes, swatting her away with the folder which did nothing, of course, and pressed your watch against the sensor.

"That's not gonna work, honey."

"So let me in."

"Promise to be nice?"

"To who?" You snorted, "You or Miguel?"

"Me," Lyla grinned, adjusting her heart-shaped glasses, "forget Miguel."

You sighed, cracking a smile, "Lyla, would you please let me into Miguel's office?" The Ai made a noise of approval, comically saluting you before granting you access.

"Don't say I didn't warn ya." She sang, disappearing from your sight.

You sighed. Miguel's shifting moods were nothing new to you—not anymore. Back when you both worked at Alchemax, he was passive and less quick to anger. But that seemed a lifetime ago.

Life progresses. People change.

“Mig?” You called out, peering up toward his solitary platform. You could hear the soft hisses of machinery, the yellow glow of Miguel’s holo screens illuminating the area above like a radiant star.

He didn’t answer.

“Miguel,” you tried again, “we have some things to discuss.” You slapped the manilla folder against your hand as if he’d recognize the sound of formal complaints filed within the last week.

The platform began to descend after a moment, and you breathed a sigh of relief as his figure came into view. His shoulders were stiff, his body rigid as he swiped through the yellow screens.

“I told Lyla not to let anyone in.” His voice was cold, frigid even. He didn’t bother to face you, his eyes pinned to his screens as he leaned forward, the muscles of his back flexing through his suit.

You couldn’t see what he was looking at but you could hear it: the soft giggles of a little girl, the cheers of a soccer game, the chuckles of a man now broken. It wasn’t the first time you’d heard the sounds of Miguel’s past. It probably wouldn’t be the last either.

“I-uh, got some reports to share with you.” You felt foolish. Lyla was right. HR complaints were the last thing on Miguel’s mind.

“Reports of the anomaly on Earth 9811?” Your brows pinched in irritation. He knew those weren’t the reports you had. You were fucking HR, not on active duty, let alone a spider person.

"No, you'd have to ask Jess or Gwen about that, but you need to listen—"

“I don’t want to hear it.” He grunted. You saw his hands form fists at his sides, the same hands that’d fisted your sheets in the throes of pleasure just days ago.

You shook your head. It was not the time for that kind of thought.

You carefully opened the crinkled folder, pulling out the paperwork you’d printed from your antique printer to read aloud from it.

“Peter Parker of Earth 5431-02 has formally filed a complaint,” you began, your eyes scanning the black text before releasing an exasperated sigh, “he’s saying you threw a chair at him?” Miguel grunted, the holo screens shutting off at his (Lyla’s) command.

“He’s an idiot.” Miguel snapped, finally turning to face you, his sharp features shadowed by the lack of light. He regarded you carefully, red eyes tracing your figure. You’ve grown used to the way his eyes lingered over you, especially when you were under him, his body pressed against yours, but sometimes you couldn’t help but squirm under his more severe gaze.

“Well, yeah,” you reluctantly agreed with a tilt of your head, “but a chair, Miguel?”

“It’s not like it hurt him...badly.”

“That's not the point."

“The point is that I got my point across.” Miguel snorted.

"It's the principle. You don't go around throwing fucking chairs at the people who work for you!"

"Mhm."

"You're their boss! What kind of behavior is that?"

"Uh-huh."

You were about ready to strangle him but knew your fingers couldn’t even go around his throat properly. You’ve tried before, under very different circumstances. You settled for pinching the bridge of your nose, as he often did, taking a breath to calm yourself before you completely lost your shit. "Listen to me."

"I'm listening, HR."

"Ugh, look," you pointed a finger up toward him, your brows knitted in obvious irritation, "annoying or not, he's still a member of the Spider Society, therefore, he has every right—”

“—to file a grievance under any circumstance as a result of an injustice, discrimination, or harmful behavior, and is to be given the respect to which every spider person is due as a valued member of the society. I know.” Miguel finished the legal jargon for you, hopping off the platform with an ease that’d always surprised you.

He stepped into your space, his large body casting a long shadow over you as he snatched the crinkled paperwork from your hands.

“I’ll speak with him.” He grunted. You pursed your lips, watching as his eyes scanned over the page.

"Make it right, Mig. Apologize. Formally. Or informally. It doesn’t matter— there’s nothing normal about this place anyway.” You placed your hands on your hips as you leaned forward, aware of how he was suddenly gazing down at you. “Just be nice, okay? Compensate him with, I dunno, a minor mission. He always wants to get involved, so let him.”

Miguel rolled his eyes, heaving a great sigh while running his hand through his hair. “Fine.”

“And no more throwing chairs to make a point.”

“Uh-huh, fine, anything else?” God, you wanted to smack him. You opted for snatching back the paperwork from his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles over your skirt-clad thighs before searching for the proper page.

“Yeah," you brought a finger down on the page, "the spiders are getting bored of the cafeteria food.” That was enough for Miguel's face to pinch in displeasure.

“What’s wrong with empanadas and churros?” He scoffed, waving his hand to dismiss the complaint, “And that stupid blue burger with my face on it?” He paused, eyes squinting for a moment, “You know what? That can go. Get rid of it.”

“Fine. Do I have permission to organize a survey?”

“For food?”

“Yes, for food. They want options.”

“Aye, por Dios,” Miguel grunted, waving his hand again, “Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Anything else?”

“Nope.” You organized the documents back into the manila folder before handing it over to him.

“You know you could just send this electronically, right?” He looked down at the folder, his eyes tracing your neat cursive in black ink.

“I’m old-fashioned.” You shrugged, turning on your heels. You heard him snort out a laugh, a tiny thing that made you smile. He has a nice laugh.

“One more thing,” Miguel called out, demandingly. You looked over your shoulder at him as he regarded you with heavy eyes.

“What is it?”

He boarded the platform once again, the machinery coming to life and slowly elevating him back to his preferred height. He tossed the folder somewhere over the desk, to be forgotten. It was the least of his worries at that moment.

You watched Miguel ascend above you like some kind of heavenly being, the yellow light of the holo screens illuminating his tan skin till he glowed molten gold. You waited on him with bated breath, his response sinking straight to your core.

“Keep your window unlocked tonight.”

…

He loves it when you ride him.

His large hands were glued to your hips as you bounced on him expertly, your cunt soaking him in your sticky juices.

Most nights began this way—with Miguel's cock buried deep in your pussy after a long day of enduring his insufferable attitude. You'd fuck the stress out of him—fuck the astronomical weight of the multiverse off his shoulders if only for a few short hours.

"Been thinking about this all day." He groaned under you, throwing his head back over your pillow when he felt your walls grip his length viciously, fighting to keep him in.

"Yeah?" You gasped, your hands firmly planted on his bare chest as you made work of your hips, rotating them in delicious circles—the way he liked—your thighs spread wide to accommodate his massive size. "W-wasn't enough to curb that a-attitude though, huh?"

Even amid the utmost pleasure—of Miguel's length hitting a spot that had you trembling—you found the strength to taunt him, your hazy eyes catching a glimpse of the twitch in his brow. That meant trouble.

Within seconds Miguel had you on your back, his imposing body trapping you against your mattress. His cock slipped out for a moment but he had no problem finding his way back into your slippery channel, snapping his hips strategically to reach as deep as he could.

You cried out, your hands scrambling to find purchase over his shoulders, your pretty manicured nails digging into his perfectly golden skin.

"F-fuck! Miguel!"

"Wanna say that again?" He growled, his face hovering mere centimeters from yours, "Go ahead, say it again." You did nothing but whimper as he pounded into you mercilessly, his cock stretching you open.

"That's what I thought." Miguel chuckled smugly, delighting in your little chokes and stutters, egging him to keep pounding you relentlessly. You tried speaking—tried to articulate your words to him, but you couldn't, too cock drunk to focus on anything else but his gorgeous face twisted up in pleasure and his thick cock kissing the secret place within you.

He had you coming soon after, stars exploding behind your lids as you trembled in his arms. Your cunt squeezed him just right and he came, panting in your ear as he filled you to the brim.

His spend stained your sheets when he pulled out, and as always, he watched it dribble out from your swollen cunt with lidded eyes. He wasted no time in taking his fingers and stuffing the mess back in.

“Keep me in there.” He muttered, swiping through your puffy folds one final time before he ripped himself from you. You immediately soured, keeping your gaze on him as he quickly cleaned himself off with a cloth you left for him on your nightstand.

You admired his figure: the ripple of his muscles as he moved, the broadness of his shoulders, the glow of his skin in the dim lighting of your bedroom.

Miguel was gorgeous. You’ve always thought so.

His suit glitched before coming to life, covering his sculpted body in the usual blue and red you've come to know.

“Did…you want to eat before you go?” Dinner was on the stove, cold but still good. You sat up against your headboard, more of his spend leaking out as you fiddled with your fingers over the soiled sheets.

Miguel shook his head, sighing as he closed his eyes for a moment.

“I have to go.” He said, stepping forward, grabbing your hand, and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles. It was the only form of affection he’d allowed himself to give you. He’d never kissed you before. Probably never will. It wasn't part of the deal.

Your heart sunk, your skin searing where his lips had lingered.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Most nights ended this way—with your aching cunt full of his seed and your eyes wet with unshed tears as you watched him leave through your window, disappearing into the night.

…

A few days later, Peter B. Parker landed in your office. Quite literally.

He plopped down on the seat in front of yours from seemingly nowhere, a messily packed diaper bag hanging loosely from his shoulder. He had his daughter snuggly pressed against his chest in her carrier, her chubby arms and legs flailing over his pink robe.

You yelped, dropping the pen in your hand, clutching your chest in freight.

“Jesus! Where the hell did you just come from?!”

“Up there.” Peter pointed up. You followed his line of vision, noting the door to the air vent busted open, barely hanging from its hinges. “Sorry about the vent.” He offered sheepishly, taking a large bite of a slice of pizza he'd pulled from a greased-up brown paper bag.

"You could've just taken the elevator!"

"Takes too long to get to the basement.” He said between a mouthful of pizza, “Why'd Miguel give you an office down here anyway?"

"I'm scared of heights." You reminded him, watching Mayday struggle to release herself from her carrier prison. Peter snorted out a laugh, dropping the diaper bag on the floor while simultaneously taking another bite of his pizza.

“Doesn’t make sense to work in a place like this.”

“It was the deal I made when Miguel asked me to work for him. Chew with your mouth closed.”

“Have you tried the cafeteria pizza?" He asked suddenly, ignoring your demand and speaking with another mouth full of the greasy treat, "It's the new thing. Everyone's going crazy."

You smiled smugly. "I know. You’re welcome."

“Ah, I should've known Miss HR was behind this!” You rolled your eyes at the nickname, rummaging through your drawer before tossing him a few napkins.

“What can I do for you, Peter?”

Mayday whined, crawling out of the carrier and over her father’s thighs. She hopped on your desk, scattering some of your paperwork. You quickly caught her before she tumbled off the edge, cooing at her before placing her in your lap. You squeezed her in your arms and she let out a scream of delight before squirming, reaching out in wonder at the different knick-knacks on your desk.

“Right, almost forgot." Peter took the last bite of his pizza, wiping his face and fingers with the napkins you provided before his face morphed into something serious. "Is this guy bothering you?” He pulled out a yellow holo pad, one presumably given to him by Miguel, revealing a video of you and Peter Parker two hundred from the other day.

You blinked, your eyes tracing the moving image carefully.

”Oh. Not really,” you finally said, ripping your gaze away from the screen, “Nothing I can't handle. Why?”

“Miguel asked me to investigate the situation discreetly.”

"Asked?"

"Well, demanded, you know Miguel," Peter shrugged, reaching down into the diaper bag and procuring a lollipop when Mayday began to whine, “he’s concerned. I figured it’d be easier to just ask you about it.”

You frowned, grasping the sweet when he handed it over to you, pulling off the wrapper and placing it in Mayday's chubby hand, “That’s hardly discreet.”

“I didn’t wanna follow the guy around!”

“He's making you do that?”

“‘Of course he is. Doesn't like the guy. He barely tolerates me!”

You snorted. “Why does Miguel even care?”

"You know him better than any of us do. If anyone would know, it’s you."

Well, that was true.

You knew Miguel before he created the Spider Society, before he was ever Spider-Man. You knew him before his addiction to Rapture, before he experienced fatherhood, before he lost Gabriella.

Back when, to the world, he was just some guy in a white lab coat.

But he was never just some guy to you.

You’ve loved Miguel for years. You’d loved him in your early days at Alchemax, when he was fresh out of college and eager to begin his shaky career, back when you were hanging on to the corporation by a measly thread of an unpaid internship. You were a pair, stuck to each other like glue.

A few years later, when you both decided to take it a step further and mess around, well, that only ignited your feelings further. Miguel was an attentive lover. He knew your needs and fulfilled them, taking you to the heights of pleasure before humbling you just as smoothly with his strict rules about your agreement.

He didn’t have time to cater to someone's feelings—didn’t have time for a romantic relationship when he had too much on his plate. But his sexual appetite demanded attention—and why not with someone he’s called a friend for years?

You were just a friend. And that’s all you’d ever be.

It was just sex. That's all it'd ever be.

“You okay?” Peter ripped you away from your thoughts, his brows furrowed in concern.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You answered with a sigh, gently resting your chin over Mayday’s soft curls. “Is Miguel worried?”

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend, of course he’s worried about you. Those were his words, not mine.” Peter shrugged, putting his holo pad away, “so is there a cause for concern?” The thought alone almost made you smile. Almost. Instead, you scoffed, shaking your head.

“I’m usually the one that handles these situations, you know.”

“And who’s supposed to help you?”

“I don’t need help.”

“Right.” He didn’t seem convinced. “Miguel doesn't seem to think so. You sure?”

“Very.”

“Alright, I did my part!” He clapped his hands as if he’d successfully completed a mission, “Time to go, Mayday!” He stood, grabbing the babbling baby from you and placing her back in the carrier.

"She's precious." You said, gently pinching Mayday's drool-covered cheek as she teethed over her lollipop.

"Takes after her dad." Peter grinned, snatching up the diaper bag, "Listen, if you ever need any help—"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, get outta here, Parker." You shooed him away, quickly organizing your wrinkled paperwork together. You could still feel his eyes on you as you kept your hands busy, and when you finally looked at him he had a silly smile on his face.

"What?"

“You guys are idiots." He was still grinning.

"What?"

"Nothin'," he said, pressing a kiss to Mayday's red curls, "Just do me a favor. Don't mention any of this to Miguel, alright?"

You crossed your arms, leaning back against your swivel chair. "Sure."

...

"So you think I need help?"

Miguel's hands immediately stilled on your hips as you stirred the boiling pasta over your electric stove.

You didn't hear him come in, but you had a feeling he’d show up. It had been a couple of days since he’d fucked you, and there were many stressful days between then and now.

So you’d left your window unlocked just in case.

"What are you talking about?" He muttered, his fingers lightly dancing on your waist before pulling away completely.

"Nothing." You huffed to yourself, cutting off the heat and getting on your toes to reach for the pasta strainer on the shelf above. After a second of watching you struggle, Miguel put a hand on your shoulder to stop you, reaching forward to grab it for you.

"Doesn’t sound like ‘nothing’.” He finally said, observing you strain the pasta over the sink, the steam from the hot water engulfing you both in what felt like a thick cloud of tension. You peered over your shoulder at him, your eyes raking over his solid form.

“You know, Peter Parker two hundred?” You asked, witnessing his face contort from passive to extreme annoyance.

He sucked his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose. He leaned back against your counter, looking so out of place in your tiny kitchen, his broad shoulders almost the entire width of your cupboard. “I told Peter to be discreet.”

“He said you’re worried about your only friend.” You continued to tease him, emphasizing the word as you lifted the lid to a pot where a homemade Pomodoro sauce was bubbling.

“I said that?” Miguel muttered, feigning innocence, watching you take a spoon and scoop some of the red sauce for a quick taste. You could feel his gaze on you, his eyes tracing the way your tongue licked off the remnants of sauce.

You hummed in approval before scooping up some more and turning to offer Miguel a taste. You lifted the spoon toward him, and after a moment of contemplation, he hunched forward with arms crossed over his toned chest, mouth opening slightly to allow you to press the spoon past his lips.

His eyes fluttered as he savored the rich taste, humming his own tune of approval.

"Is it good?"

“Mhm.”

You beamed, eyeing how he licked his lips like a satisfied cat, his fangs protruding slightly when he ran his tongue over them. The same fangs you’ve felt over your delicate skin from time to time.

Miguel was a biter. You didn’t mind.

Miguel grunted, using his thumb to wipe off a bit of sauce that lingered near the corner of your lips. You inhaled a shaky breath, your eyes fluttering from the heat of his touch.

"What else did he say?" He murmured, looming over you, his hand now gently cradling the back of your neck, thumb caressing your skin.

"T-that you're worried about me?" You breathed. Miguel pulled you closer suddenly, the faintest noise of surprise escaping you. His suit always felt strange under your fingers, the digitized fabric almost slippery, like fine silk. It was ridiculous how perfect you felt wrapped up in his arms. You sometimes wished he'd show up in civilian clothes. You missed his lazy outfits when he'd throw on an old t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him in anything other than his suit (and his naked form, of course). It meant he was always on the clock, devoting all his precious time to the multiverse.

It meant that whenever he was alone with you, he considered it work.

And yet, the suit made you feel secure and safe—like nothing in the world could harm you. And there was truth to that, though the only thing harming you these days was Miguel himself. But that was your fault too.

The deal was explicitly no strings attached. You were finding it harder to keep up your end of the bargain.

You gazed at his full lips. You desperately wanted to taste them, to know how soft and warm they would feel molded against yours. If you were brave enough you might have stolen a taste, might have felt those sharp canines for yourself on your tongue.

Miguel’s thick fingers trailed into your hair, gripping the roots with just a hint of pressure, his lidded eyes taking in every part of your face: your brows, your eyes, the bridge of your nose, and your supple lips—wet and swollen from biting them so damn much.

"Maybe just a little," he finally answered, his shoulders shifting in a slight shrug. You could feel his length press against your hip, hot and throbbing, demanding attention.

It filled you with pride knowing your proximity was enough to get him excited. It shouldn't though. It was only arousal. Basic primal instincts.

You shouldn’t be feeling pride for any of this. You had to remind yourself of that.

You closed your eyes, willing your heartbeat to slow down just a bit. Could you really be this love-sick? So hung up on a man who was emotionally unavailable? If you hadn’t fallen before, then you knew you were plummeting now, so far gone that you’d let Miguel do anything to you.

So when he whisked you away to your bedroom, dinner long forgotten, you didn’t put up a fight.

He fucked you from behind.

It was a tight stretch, your wet cunt fighting him as he tried pressing his swollen tip in with little luck.

"Gotta let me in," he grunted, spreading your cheeks wide to gaze down at your twitching holes, "you're too tight. Let me in."

"I'm trying," you panted, tears in your eyes as you buried your face into the sheets, "i-it's been a while."

"It's okay," his large hands caressed the globes of your ass in comfort, "it's my fault. Haven't been fucking you enough, hm? S'my fault." Miguel rubbed his cock through your soaked folds a few times, the obscene noises of your sopping cunt causing him to grunt.

"Goddamn, so fuckin' wet." He muttered before lining himself up and carefully pushing in again. You cried out, fisting the sheets when he successfully got the tip in. He groaned, the guttural sound masking your tiny mewls as he pushed on, your wet cunt coating him entirely in your sticky essence, easing his entry just a bit.

"Fuck, Miguel, it h-hurts." You whined, the stretch of him both painful and pleasurable as he bullied his way in, his girthy cock plunging through your fluttering walls.

"Shh, I know." He rarely cooed as he did now, reassuring you with gentle noises and tender touches as he eased into you, balls deep in your core, “Look how good you’re doing for me. S’good.” A fresh wave of arousal dripped from you at his praise, your fluttering cunt allowing him to push and pull as he pleased.

He began a steady rhythm, holding your hips tightly to work you over his length, muttering to himself all the while as he watched how your creamy juices clung to his cock and covered his skin.

The pain quickly subsided into blinding pleasure. Miguel had you mewling into your mattress, your eyes rolling and drool slipping past your lips, your back impossibly arched, and your swollen cunt wetter than it’s ever been. The slapslapslap of his hips against your ass was loud in the quiet of your bedroom, your moans even louder when he skillfully hit something inside you that made you see stars every single time.

You loved the feel of him, loved the stretch of his cock, loved how your cunt would ache for days after as if to remember him.

“Coño,” Miguel growled, keeping a large hand on your lower back to keep you steady in your arched position, “you sound so pretty when I fuck you.” He suddenly gripped your hair, pulling you up as he curved over you, continuing to spill filth into your ears.

It was too much.

“M-Miguel, I’m g-gonna—”

“Cum for me.”

That was it. The dam burst within you, your eyes rolling back as you cried out, cunt spasming and gushing all over him.

“That’s it,” he muttered, sloppily thrusting into your tightening core, “good girl.”

“Miguel,” you continued to whine, grinding against him, “Fuuuck, I love you.”

You didn’t even realize what you said until it was too late, so wrapped up in the bliss of it all that your mouth worked faster than your brain could think.

You froze when you felt him still above you. He released your hair, bringing his hand back to your hips before gripping them viciously, chasing his own release. He rammed into you faster, slamming his hips against your ass one final time before letting out a guttural groan deep from within the confines of his chest. You could only imagine how he looked: tan skin glistening, chocolate hair plastered against his brow and head tossed back in pleasure.

Miguel said nothing as he gently removed his cock from your aching sex, letting his seed dribble out from you and soak into the sheets.

As soon as you turned around he was already in his suit, pushing a few buttons on his watch before he brought his wine-colored eyes to you.

"I have to go."

“Mig?” You whispered his name softly, your naked body burning with embarrassment, “I-I’m sorry I—”

"I’ll see you tomorrow.” It was the same thing he always said, but it hurt twice as much. It was as if he were on autopilot, disconnected from what just happened.

You felt your heart plummet into your stomach as you watched Miguel leave through your window with a speed he usually reserved for missions.

His spend caked your thighs. There was so much of it coming out of you, more so than usual, his cum ruining your sheets enough that you’d need to change them before bed.

You sniffled, eyes watering, tears threatening to fall. He didn’t even kiss your hand goodbye.

You ripped yourself away from the soiled sheets, stomping over to your window as his cum leaked down your inner thighs before slamming it closed, locking it for good.

...

“You made this?” Miles exclaimed with a mouth full of spaghetti, clumsily twirling another forkful over his paper plate. You were handing out some of the spiders' leftover Pomodoro pasta from the previous night. You’d lost your appetite. It’d be a shame if you let it all go to waste.

“Yeah, eat up, there’s enough for everyone.” You scooped out more pasta from a Tupperware and onto a paper plate for Gwen. The younger girl’s eyes sparkled as she grabbed the plate, immediately slurping up a bite.

“Oh my god,” she muttered, lips covered in red sauce, “why are you working at the Spider Society when you could be a chef?”

“It’s because Miguel begged her to work here,” Miles quipped, a lone spaghetti hanging from his mouth.

“And who told you that?” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Uhh,” his eyes flew over to Peter B., who was waiting patiently for his own plate of pasta to be served. You turned and narrowed your eyes at Peter, who chuckled nervously.

“Listen,” he began, hands thrown up in surrender, “the kid got curious, okay? He was convincing, I mean, look at those eyes.” You huffed, snatching Peter’s plate and loading it up with pasta.

“You guys are annoying,” you muttered with no bite, shifting your gaze toward Hobie, who sat quietly with his legs thrown up on the table, “Hobie, fuck the government and all that, but you need to get your dirty boots off the table if you want some food.”

Hobie sighed dramatically, letting his boots drop to the ground.

“Fine, boss lady.”

Satisfied, you handed him a plate.

“So, let’s talk about you being a chef?” Gwen tried again, scrapping the remaining bits off her plate.

“It’s just pasta,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and taking a seat, “anyone can make a Pomodoro.”

“My dad can’t.”

“…why?”

“He’s Irish.”

“And a bloody cop,” Hobie interjected, twirling his pasta with a plastic fork, “hate those.”

“Here we go,” Gwen huffed, the beginnings of an argument forming. You chose to ignore them, letting Gwen, Miles, and Hobie bicker between themselves.

You squirmed in your seat, crossing your legs to cure the throbbing within. You could still feel Miguel, the stretch of his cock, and the inevitable ache that lingered afterward. You were still full of him, your cunt wet even hours later, plaguing you with the thought of never feeling him again.

You drummed your fingers over the messy table littered with paper plates and napkins, your body hunched forward, lost in thought.

“So…” Peter began, adjusting the collar of his pink robe, “you gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to force it outta you?” You whipped your head to look at him, brows furrowed as you regarded him.

“What makes you think something’s going on?” You whispered, hoping the cafeteria was loud enough so the rest of the table wouldn’t hear.

“Something’s going on or you wouldn’t be whispering,” Peter whispered back, his blue eyes pinned to yours as he searched for answers.

“It’s nothing.” You answered quickly, continuing to squirm in your seat, fighting to ignore your achy cunt.

“Did you guys finally smooch?” You froze, your hands gripping the edge of the table with a force that made your knuckles go white.

“Peter, what the fuck are you talking about?” You hissed, watching him happily eat his Pomodoro.

“You think I don’t know?” He challenged, “It might not be obvious to everyone else but I know what’s going on.” He winked at you, dabbing a napkin messily over his mouth.

Your heart was pounding, ready to beat out your chest, but you schooled your features as best you could. You swallowed thickly, crossing your arms over your chest as if to make yourself smaller.

“Okay, fine, you know. What of it?”

“Miguel’s being mopey.”

“Mopey?” You snorted, shaking your head, “He’s always mopey, isn’t he?”

“This is a different kind of mopey,” Peter raised a brow, “it’s actually kind of… frightening.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s got nothing to do with us, for once. Usually one of us pisses him off enough to throw things but he’s on a mission. Said he needed to clear his head. So what happened?” You sighed, shoulders sagging.

“I might have said something I wasn’t supposed to last night.”

“What?”

“We made a deal,” you explained in a whisper, “no feelings, just…you know,” you wiggled your fingers, hoping it would be enough of an explanation. Peter nodded, urging you to continue, “Well, I messed up.”

“How?”

“ItoldhimIlovehim.” You blurted out, your hands flying over your mouth. Peter blinked with a subtle tilt of his head, before a grin stretched over his lips. You groaned, now covering your eyes, “W-what is that, why are you smiling? Stop it.”

“I mean, one of you had to say it first.”

“Peter, you’re killing me here.” He rolled his eyes, inching close enough till your knees brushed against his.

“You don’t think the big guy feels the same way?”

“No!” You squeaked incredulously, “There’s no way. You should’ve seen him yesterday. He could barely look at me!”

“You caught him off guard.”

“I know that, but he still could’ve said something. Anything.”

“He’s a guy. Guys are stupid.” You groaned, pushing your hair out of your face. You turned to look at the other spiders. You knew they’d been listening given the way they all turned away immediately.

“Someone is stupid,” you muttered to Peter, feeling dejected, “and it’s definitely not him.”

...

You took a deep breath before placing your watch over the sensor.

The door to Miguel’s office didn’t budge, not to your surprise. Lyla must have blocked the systems again.

What were you even doing there?

You hadn’t seen Miguel in about a week. That was ample time to inform you he wanted nothing to do with you. You couldn't blame him but still, it was…unprofessional. He was your boss at the end of the day.

Maybe you shouldn’t have started fucking the head of the Spider Society. Your weak heart wouldn’t be in shambles if you didn’t.

It was a stupid move, you knew, telling someone you love them in the throes of passion when they clearly weren’t on the same page, unprovoked or not. He probably hates you. He must.

You’d given yourself enough time to think it through and given yourself so many pep talks before deciding a professional relationship with Miguel was for the best. No more friends with benefits.

No more keeping your window unlocked.

You took a breath and tried again. No luck.

Did he fire you? That couldn’t be right. You were still in the system and able to enter HQ with your keycard just fine.

“You’re always catching him at a bad time,” Lyla sighed beside you, whipping out her tiny little holographic phone, “he didn’t even want to take a photo! Unbelievable!” The small image on her screen revealed a snarling Miguel, clearly unamused by the bunny filter plastered over his face. It was cute, even if he looked a bit terrifying baring his fangs.

Lyla shifted to face you, hands on her little hips as she looked you up and down.

“You look niiice,” she quickly snapped a photo of you, “no cute filter needed.”

“Uhh, thanks?”

“Now it’s your turn to say something nice to me.” The Ai grinned when you rolled your eyes.

“You look…extra yellow today, Lyla.”

“Thank you! I’m in default mode.”

“Okay, so I’ll just come back later then?” You rushed to leave but Lyla stopped you, zapping in front of you suddenly.

“Nah, I’ll let you in.” You could hear the door to Miguel’s office opening, “Fix him.”

“What? How am I supposed to do that?”

Lyla shrugged, “I dunno, I just know you’re the only one that can.” She waved farewell, disappearing in a glimmer of gold.

You groaned, dropping your head in your hands for a moment to collect your thoughts. Your palms began to sweat—they always did when you were nervous—so you quickly wiped them over your black pencil skirt before facing the office entryway.

It was dark as usual, the only light illuminating the area was Miguel’s bright yellow screens. They hung above him as he sat slouched in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. His head turned lazily to regard you.

“I heard you’ve been mopey.” You began, cracking a smile when he snorted. He shook his head, watching you slowly approach him like one would a wounded animal. He didn’t confirm nor deny the accusation.

“What do you need?”

“To talk to you.” You said, finding the courage to step into his space, leaning back against his desk and blocking one of the yellow screens.

“About?”

“Us.” Miguel hummed, running a hand through his messy hair. He sat up in his chair but said nothing else, allowing you the space to speak freely.

“I-I wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable,” you began to fumble with your fingers, unable to keep eye contact with him for very long, “I know that what I said was…crossing the line—”

“Did you mean it?” He asked abruptly, the question forcing your eyes away from your fingernails and toward his chiseled face. He looked exhausted, eyes heavy but swimming with curiosity.

“W-well, I mean, it was a moment of—”

“Did you mean it?” He repeated, his tone stern as he awaited a proper answer from you. You bit your lip, slowly nodding your head.

“Yeah. I did. Still do.”

The silence that stretched wasn’t very long but it felt like an eternity. Miguel only stared at you, his jaw tight as he sat forward, his elbows resting on his toned thighs.

You wished you could read his thoughts, take a peek at what ran through his mind. He was always so good at hiding his emotions, never showing an ounce of what he felt. That wasn’t always the case but after Gabriella, he didn’t show much of anything.

“I think it’s best we don’t see each other anymore,” you finally concluded, crossing your arms, “we should stop.”

“What?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, “What do you mean stop?” He was towering over you in a matter of seconds, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him. Your heart was pounding, your hands flying to grip the edge of his desk.

“Mig, we can’t keep doing this.”

“Yes, we can.” He caged you in his arms, bringing his face just a few inches away from yours. He never had much of a problem with eye contact, but you did. You chose to look at his collarbones and the large swoop of his shoulders. It was intimidating and arousing all at once and you weren’t getting anywhere with this speech, were you?

“We can’t. Not when we’re not on the same page.”

“Who says we’re not?” You felt his fingers graze the side of your face, pushing a lock of your hair behind your ear. You turned away, squeezing your eyes shut, feeling the familiar prick of tears behind your lids.

“Stop playing with me.” You said, pushing him away with little luck. Miguel shifted slightly at your touch, watching you rub at your eyes.

“I’m not.”

“Then why have you not said anything for a week?” You hissed, the frustration threatening to boil over, “You’ve left me agonizing over this for a week, Miguel!” You wiped furiously at your cheeks, catching a few stray tears. “I’m such an idiot.”

Miguel grabbed your wrists in his hands, yanking them away from your face. His concerned eyes met your wet ones, a frown tugging at his lips.

“Stop.” He demanded, taking your flushed face in his hands and wiping the wet streaks away with his thumbs. “Don’t say that about yourself.” You glared, cheeks puffed and swollen from the pressure of fighting away tears.

“Fine,” you snapped, ignoring the way he stroked your cheeks, “you’re the fucking idiot.”

“I am,” Miguel agreed with a sigh, refusing to release you, “I didn’t know what to say. Thought you might have been lying—don’t look at me like that.”

“You’re pissing me off.”

“I know, beba.” The endearment startled you for a moment, your glossy eyes peering up at him as a rush of excitement settled in your stomach. He’d never used endearing words with you before. It had you stumped for a second before you remembered yourself, your brows furrowing in irritation

“Why would you think I was lying? Mig, I’ve loved you for years, you buffoon!” Miguel loomed closer with every word before he kissed you, silencing you effectively. Your eyes fluttered, your lips unresponsive at first until he coaxed you into a gentle rhythm.

Kissing Miguel was so much softer than you imagined.

You thought he’d be all tongue and teeth, desperate to devour his victim. His kisses were syrupy and deliberate, steady and reassuring. He was taking his time learning the shape of your lips, the plumpness, how perfect they felt molded against his.

“I’m sorry, beba,” he said between kisses, letting you snake your arms around his neck to pull him closer, “perdoname. I’m an idiot.” You hummed in agreement, continuing to assault his lips sweetly. You couldn’t stop kissing him if you wanted to, sneaking your tongue past the seam of his lips to taste more of him.

He growled, tightening his hold on you, allowing you to taste at your leisure. He tasted fresh, like the spearmint gum he always had on hand.

“Perdoname,” he repeated, wanting so desperately for you to forgive his transgressions, slotting himself between your legs.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” you teased, feeling the familiar ache of arousal blooming in your core, “show me how sorry you are.” Another growl ripped from him, animalistic and provoked. He wasted no time, pushing you down so that your back was flat against his desk and your legs were wrapped around his hips.

He pressed a button beside you and suddenly, the platform began to elevate.

“Mig,” you sat up in a panic, but Miguel only pushed you back down, lifting your skirt up till it pooled over your waist, “w-why are we moving up?”

“Privacy,” he grunted, spreading your legs, running his thumb over the soaked patch of your panties. Your hands scrambled to find purchase on something over the desk, your heart hammering in your chest as the ceiling seemed to loom closer.

“Y-you know I’m scared of heights!” You squealed when the platform came to a jutting halt, squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even want to think about how high up you were.

“It’s okay,” Miguel purred, gently rubbing your clit through the fabric, “you’re safe, you’re with me, beba, no tengas miedo.”

“M-Mig, please,” you didn’t even know what you were begging for at that point, you just needed something, and whatever that was, he gave to you. You felt him push aside your panties, and you finally spared him a glance, almost choking at the sight of him mesmerized by the sweetness between your legs.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he muttered, slipping a finger through your folds, “you dripping all over my desk.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, easily ripping your panties apart before getting on his knees, “smell s’good.” He muttered, licking a stripe up with his fat tongue, scooping whatever mess you made. He moaned at the taste before completely diving in, eyes closed and large hands keeping your trembling thighs spread for him.

As always, you were a whimpering mess for him, mewling with every precise stroke of his tongue. It was the first time he’d done something like this, and god, it was nothing you could have ever dreamed of.

He moaned into your cunt, the gentle vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled and whined with every loud slurp of his mouth over your clit, his tongue swiping over your precious bud before working his way down to dip inside your hole.

“Fuck, Miguel,” your hands flew to his hair, your fingers weaving through the thick strands to keep his head in place. He skillfully nipped and licked the surface, lifting his face away slightly to spit into your cunt, watching it run through your puffy folds with lidded eyes before devouring you again.

“You taste fucking amazing,” he groaned, sucking your clit between his lips.

You threw your head back, letting out the prettiest moans for him. You forgot about everything, about where you were and how high up you were from the ground. You couldn’t care less as long as Miguel continued to eat from you like a madman.

You could feel the tension in your abdomen, the clear sign that you were close. Miguel continued to drink from you, slurping obscenely at the fresh arousal that dripped into his mouth.

“Close?” He asked, giving you kitten licks, his hands squeezing your thighs encouragingly.

“God y-yes, so close.” You could feel him smiling against your folds before starting up a vicious rhythm again with his eyes closed.

With a loud cry, you came into his waiting mouth, your back arching and body withering over the table from the overstimulation. Miguel licked and sucked every inch of you, determined to catch every drop of your orgasm.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, releasing your grip from his hair and draping an arm over your eyes. Miguel stood, removing your arm and leaning over your fatigued body. He looked down at you with intense red eyes, his mouth and chin completely covered in your slick. You bit your lip when a smile curved at the edges of his lips before he swooped down to kiss you.

You moaned, completely aroused all over again from your own musky taste on his lips. He slipped his tongue in your mouth, allowing you a proper taste.

“Perdoname.” He begged again over your lips before gently brushing the tip of his nose against yours. You giggled, pushing him away slightly so that you could sit up on your elbows.

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, “you’re gonna have to try again.” Miguel shook his head, tapping a button on his watch, and allowing his suit to vanish. You gasped at his sudden nakedness, your eyes glued to his throbbing erection. Miguel grinned, fangs bared, tapping his cock over your sensitive cunt.

You closed your eyes as he immediately pushed in, moaning as he worked himself into your tight channel.

In your euphoric state, you barely registered him grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss over your knuckles, whispering over your skin. Your ears picked up a few words, some naughty and some sweet, but your heart fluttered and your chest tightened when you caught the last two words before he began pounding into you.

“Te amo.”

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