#spider-man's ass

[emocheremuha]

horny collab with @shoia

[thatonedudeinthecorner]

Obsessed with the fact that the spideypool dynamic can be watered down to “miss you pookie bear” “oh lord” mindset

[thewistlingbadger]

Fuck Miguel because HES actually the first anomaly. He abused his power/ability to travel between universes to take the place of someone else. Had he not done that, that universe and everything in it would still be around. But Miles? Miles ACCIDENTALLY got bit by spider that wasn't where it was supposed to be. How tf was he supposed to know that?

[roguelov]

Birthmark

Summary: Miguel discovered something he never noticed before on you: a birthmark, one specifically on your lower back side. At a single glance, a primal feeling started to burn inside of him. And there was only one way to satiate him.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Reader: Afab (no fem pronouns used)

Warnings: SMUT (unprotected sex, doggy style, fingering, pull out/cumming on backside, voyeurism, manhandling, possessiveness, minor blood), some fluff, established relationship

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY

The world drifted away, lost and nearly forgotten, as music poured out of your headphones. The soft luminance of the sun peered through the windows, wishing to greet everyone, to kiss their cheeks with its warm light on this early weekend morning. The simple apartment space was filled with an assortment of things - both the necessary to the unnecessary but well loved trinkets - to call it a shared home.

You weaved around the living room, delicately walking to not to disturb your sleeping partner in the bedroom a short distance away. It was one of those days, a day of waking up and wanting to clean the place. It wasn’t exactly dirty per se, but it was dusty and needed a little more care.

Off in the bedroom, behind the cracked door with the blinds still shut, a body laid sprawled out on the bed - the body of an overworked Miguel. The steady rise and fall of his chest stuttered. The even rhythm broke as consciousness slowly took hold. It wasn’t any noise that disturbed him. No. It was the lack of presence. It was the lack of your warmth, the lack of your arms wrapped around his waist, the lack of your soft breathing against his skin.

He craved it - needed it to always have a well rested night of sleep.

A low exhausted groan tumbled off his lips as he rolled over. He pushed himself up, and hunched forward on the edge of the bed. He sighed loudly. He rubbed the back of his neck at a small stiff ache. The world and all of its sensations slowly poured over him. The first to return was sound. His ears perked up. Out in the living room, you sang quietly under your breath.

A smile cracked onto his tired face.

Standing up, and stretching a bit, he shuffled out of the bedroom. He opened the door, and the world greeted him. Basking in the sunlight, you glowed this morning. He leaned into the doorway, watching you with a loving, tender gaze.

The living room was cluttered with cleaning supplies: a vacuum with its long cords snaking around, a duster tossed onto the table along with a rag and cleaning spray, and lastly an unlit candle for later to fill the air with such sweet aromas. Unaware of Miguel’s presence, you continued to sing softly and only a few words at a time. You moved around with a certain grace, you were guided by the music and bounced to the beat as you cleaned.

Miguel’s smile grew.

How did you become a part of his life? He almost didn’t deserve you, or so he believed. You were a beacon of light and life.

Of love.

He chuckled once, unable to contain his joy.

Still lost in your task, you bent forward, picking up a blanket randomly tossed onto the floor from the night before.

Instantly, Miguel’s laughter seized. Confusion, and something else, settled into his chest.

What -

You, however, stood upright again. His eyes narrowed trying to comprehend what he saw. He definitely saw something, he knew he did. But, what exactly was it? Well, technically he saw two things; two things which made his chest clench and his heart skip just a tad faster. Firstly, you weren’t wearing any underwear underneath your plain cotton shorts. But, there was something else. Something he never noticed before.

And he was intrigued and determined to know.

Walking up behind you, he placed a hand on your hip. You jumped, startled by his sudden appearance. Dropping the blanket, you spun around only for your minor panic to dissipate. You laughed and smiled at him. Your headphone slid off your head and dangled around your neck.

“Well, good morning to you too,” you cheekily said.

“What was that?”

Your face scrunched in confusion. “What was what?”

Miguel’s lips thinned. He turned his head, almost grumbling. His skin started to flush, and he strangely felt embarrassed. A little odd given the few months you had now been living together. “I … I saw something … like - like …”

You raised an eyebrow. Twisting your around, you searched over your body and clothes. “What? Is there a stain somewhere? A hole? A tear?”

“No,” he groaned, rolling his eyes more so at himself. Why couldn’t he say it? “Something here.”

He tentatively reached over. With a single finger, he very gently grazed over one of your bottom cheeks. Your eyes instantly dropped down to his finger. You blinked, still baffled by his odd behavior. You didn’t see a stain, it was just your shorts. Then it clicked. Realization flooded over your features, smoothing out the confused crease between your brows.

You cocked your head, trying to bite back your growing amusement, “Are you talking about my birthmark?”

“Birthmark?” He repeated, confused.

“Yeah, my birthmark.” You chuckled. “I thought you had seen it before, or I at least told you about it.”

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t recall, but this certainly all felt like news to him.

“I don’t remember,” he mumbled.

“Well, yeah it’s always been there.” You picked up the blanket again. You kept your back to him as you refolded it. “I swore I told you before, it’s why I can’t wear certain things out. If I wear cotton shorts and they ride up, you’ll probably see it. The same goes for certain swimsuit bottoms. And if I wear white bottoms then there is a chance you’ll see it through depending on the fabric.”

As you started to move around again, placing the blanket into a basket beside the couch, Miguel’s eyes dropped. It was as if he was trying to burn a hole through your shorts to see it again - to see it properly.

Something was stirring inside of him, something he didn’t quite fully understand yet. He stepped forward. He wanted to see it, he needed to see it. His hands grabbed your hips, stopping you in place.

You jokingly rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself. He was certainly handsy this morning.

Was it handsy, or needy? Needy, yes. But, it wasn’t in the sweet innocent way you initially assumed. He wasn’t needy in the way he always wanted to close by, or comforted by having you in his grasp.

Oh no, you greatly miscalculated.

You snorted, “Can I help you -“

A gasp left your lips. Miguel had forcibly grabbed the bottom fabric of your shorts and yanked it up. His eyes immediately locked onto the birthmark - the very obvious birthmark that was nearly centered on your one cheek.

There it was. Plain as day.

You twisted your upper body, and quickly latched a hand around his wrist. Now, it was your turn to get flustered and embarrassed. “Okay, okay, you saw it, can you let go now?”

His eyes flickered up.

Oh. Oh no.

Your breath hitched, and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach.

His usual crimson eyes - the color of crisp ripe apples in the height of a chilly autumn, or the color of a bright lush rose given in secret to a lover - was gone. His pupils were blown wide, the darkness overtaking the lovely shade of red. They were black like the shirt of a priest who you should be praying with; they were black like the night where no one can see what sins were unfolding.

His thumb pressed firmly into your ass, into your birthmark.

“Miguel,” you whispered softly as your heart ticked faster and faster.

He dropped his head, nuzzling his face into your neck. His lips slowly brushed over your neck. You shivered. Ever so slowly, your initial surprise melted away. You lolled your head to the side, granting him more access. He always had this effect on you. One look, one touch, and soon you were putty in his hands.

Oh, he was losing himself. He didn’t know why, but this discovery riled him up. Maybe because this was like a secret, a secret only he was privy to.

His lovely little secret.

He groaned softly. His heart beat faster as he fell into this near animalistic passion - a primal frenzy. His talons slowly came out. He couldn’t - and wouldn’t - hold himself back any longer. One of his talons scraped over the birthmark.

You gasped at the minor spark of pain.

He smirked, and began to teasingly kiss your neck. A pepper of butterfly kisses that quickly shifted to heated opened mouth attacks as he bit and sucked on your now sensitive skin. He cupped your ass, giving it a rough, hard squeeze.

“Mine,” he murmured lowly into your neck.

One word.

One simple word.

And hell - all those forbidden yet heavenly sins locked away - was unleashed.

It happened all so quickly. He yanked you towards his chest. Lips collided. Tongues swirled together, drawing out beautiful sounds from each of you. Hands roamed over every curve and muscle. You were desperate for each other. You both always stoked such burning desires, such all consuming fires.

The next thing you knew, your shorts were pulled down and kicked aside along with Miguel’s sweatpants. You were immediately bent over the couch as Miguel finally slipped his cock inside your dripping folds.

You tried to hold back the obnoxiously loud cry of pleasure. Your forehead buried into your folded arms, which was supported by the backside of the couch. Your nails dug crescent shapes along your biceps.

Miguel sighed, tipping his head forward. He was panting heavily, unable to control him. God, you always drove him into such a state. He couldn’t think, he could only drown himself in the overwhelming and wondrous sensation of you. His hands happily - and downright couldn’t resist - kneaded and played with your ass. He squeezed harshly, and watched as your pliable fat pooled between his needy fingers.

Good lord.

He soon swore a string of curses under his breath in Spanish. He wanted to roll his eyes back. He wanted to completely lose himself. But, he also wanted to watch. So, he did. He watched hungrily as he pounded into you. Most importantly, he watched his thumb continue to dig fiercely into your birthmark.

A moan hummed in the back of your throat.

His eyes sparkled with such sinful delight. It was like a secret button. His secret button. His talon teasingly traced the shape of it. Then his thumb pushed further into your birthmark, enjoying the sounds you were making. He shuddered. Fueled by your responsiveness, he felt his fangs elongate as he moaned. Oh, he wanted to bite it, he wanted to mark it. Dare he say, he wanted to carve his initial into it.

His.

All his.

He gripped your hips harshly, digging his talons into your skin. Small pricks of blood swelled up under his deathly grip. Bruises and sores would most definitely appear later. He picked up his pace. It was sloppy and ruthless. The sounds were so loud, and so delightful: his hips slapping into your ass, his thick cock pummeling into you, his low groans mixing with your more high pitched ones.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, letting out a muffled whine. You buried your face into your arms, trying to silence how loud you were becoming. Desperate and needy, you soon grinded back into him, meeting his pace.

Miguel hissed, “Ah, cariño, nuevamente. Again, do that again.”

You obeyed without hesitation. You pushed back into him, moaning as his cock stretched you further. Your walls greedily clamped around him, sending him into a frenzy.

He moaned, and nearly slumped forward. He paced one hand on the backside of the couch, keeping himself upright. While, his other hand wrapped firmly around your hips. His hot breath fanned over your sweaty neck. Growling, he was furiously humping into you.

Your eyes rolled back. Fuck. You loved when he was like this, when he used you. You loved when he let himself go. And the best and worst thing was you wouldn’t last much longer. He was deliciously relentless.

You moaned, “Miguel -“

“I know,” he gritted his teeth. His voice rumbled near your ear. You shivered. Your walls fluttered around him. You were quickly nearing your end. And he knew it. “Let go, please. Oh, please, let me feel it.”

He uprighted himself, and gripped your hips again. You tried to match his pace, you tried to keep up, but you couldn’t. He mercilessly pounded into you. He moved your hips for you, he knew what you wanted and needed.

And that was it.

In a few more thrust, you cried out, gushing around him. Miguel swiftly pulled out. You whined. Yet, two of his fingers quickly plunged back inside. Your disappointment melted away as you moaned out again. Your mind went fuzzy in absolute pleasure. He kept pumping into you, overworking you. You squirmed as your legs began to shake.

“Miguel,” you mumbled, almost like a sob.

“Shhh, I know, I got you.”

With his other hand, he started to pump himself. Feeling you around his fingers, hearing your whines and delightful wet noises of his fingers slipping in and out of you, seeing your body shake with overstimulation, he spilled all over your backside.

“Fuck, Miguel,” you weakly hissed out.

He laughed once, a short breathy laugh. He pulled out his fingers. He paused for a moment, admiring your juices covering his fingers: the way it dripped down, the way it glistened in the light, and oh the way could feel his mouth water at the thought of tasting it.

And he had a little idea. An idea which had been stirring since the beginning.

He wiped his fingers clean over your ass, directly over your birthmark.

You groaned softly, still slumped forward over the couch. You focused more on trying to catch your fleeting breath. Your body still buzzed from the wondrous aftermath. Sighing deeply, you closed your eyes, thinking it was finally over.

Until something swiped across your ass. Specifically, Miguel’s tongue. Miguel licked up once, and cleaned up yours and his cum over your birthmark. He moaned at the taste. And, for an extra measure he teasingly, and gentle as he fangs would let him, nipped the birthmark.

Your body jolted at the sensation. A loud, almost pornographic, moan fell over your lips. “Jesus Christ,” you hissed.

He chuckled.

Miguel carefully stood you up, and turned you around. With still shaky legs, you completely fell into his chest exhausted. He wrapped an arm around your waist to support you. His smile softened, seeing the state he had brought you to. With his free hand, he gently cupped your cheek, and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

You hummed softly, and gave him a tired lopsided smile.

“Let’s clean you up,” Miguel whispered. His finger traced down your cheek, and along your jaw. He tipped your chin up. His lips brushed over yours again. His sweetness then vanished. A devious smirk crossed on his lips. His hand fell from your waist, and squeezed your ass again. “I’m still not done with you yet.”

[kitamars]

hi ive been going through it a little bit

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Hobie stopped to draw a little doodle of himself. He was like oh I'm writing a note for Gwendy I'll draw a little me.

And it's like not crunched in the corner or anything it looks like he planned to have it there so he left a little space to doodle 😭

He got out red and white markers to draw a little SpiderPunk for that note.

He's such a silly little guy. I'm gonna cry about it.

[edgepunk]

I just want more Spider-Man themed hoodies/shirts for adults

buy me a coffee

[lunalivvy]

miles saying ass, gwen saying hell, miguel saying fuck in spanish… LET THEM SWEAR

LET MILES MORALES SAY FUCK

[whaliiwatching]

one in a million admirers…

based on ofc this prompt

[atlas-ponders]

Today we're here to appreciate the homosexuality of Spider-man and Deadpool

[pandadrake]

Unforeseen side effect of the hostage shirt.

Thought about what would happen if the “get along” shirt situation continued and figured that Miguel would probably just go back to work with Miles stuck to him.

Part 1 This is Part 2 Part 3

[hemlock-dreams]

Any loser facts abt Peter in your universe? I see all Spider-Man's having atleast one (Or several) moments of "The Parker's luck", like swinging and falling into the dumpster, being the Smart-but-dumb person, or doing smth cringe to the point to embarass and make them stay awake at night

And I think it would be funny as hell if he is this smart, hot, skillful, intelligent with tragic backstory but still a little bit of a loser

Hunting!Spiderman is absolutely a loser.

His biggest public embarrassment was taking on Captain America in his OG world. They were on opposite sides for some comic shenanigan reason or another, and ended up having to fight.

Captain America laid Spiderman out to fucking dry. Full on KO. He was obliterated, so completely and effectively that he legitimately had a crisis about it.

Even worse, Captain picked him up over the shoulder and took him to safety afterward. He woke up asking what time and year it was.

it was captured live on Tiktok, and mem-ed to absolute hell. Tags like #Spideryamcha and #Spideybeatdown were trending for weeks. JJ split the video into single frames and ran it on every website/article/blog of the Bugle.

Halloween was brutal. And endless stream of couple costumes, kids dressed as Captain America with spider-plushies, beach towels with Spidey's image, advertised thrown over the shoulder. God the Spotify playlist... (Beating me up/Mama Said Knock you Out/Getting Beaten Up/Lay Me/I'm a loser/Bad Day...and so on)

Now, to be clear, Spiderman has had his fair share of losses. He's not invulnerable- and to most of the masses, the power difference between Captain America and Spiderman is minimal.

But Spiderman knows better.

For reference, Captain America is an enhanced human. He's fast, strong, dexterous- and can lift up to 1200 pounds.

Spiderman can go toe-to-toe with the Hulk. Spiderman can lift up to 25 tons.

This shouldn't have been even close. And it wasn't. This is when Peter realized that having mutated muscles and superhuman strength didn't mean anything if he didn't know how to use them. Most of his rogues gallery up until that point (Rhino, Vulture, the classics-) were just dudes with souped up bodies/tech.

Captain America, highly trained and disciplined, was able to read him like a flimsy pamphlet, capitalizing on all his weaknesses to take Spidey out like yesterday's garbage.

TLDR: Spiderman got hilarious humbled on Tiktok and his rep took a hit that never totally recovered.

For new world Loser facts:

-Peter Parker is living above St. Margaret's on Weasel's charity. -Has to basically work for free for room and board -Has literally no friends or family (yet) -Can't hold a Starkphone in the right direction to save his life Stay tuned for more!

[c0smicdusk]

🕳

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[thatcatangelwriter]

I think after her time at the spider society gwen can be very creepy at times, but like doesn't realize it or register it well.

Like she's gwen stacy. The cursed lover. The doomed girl. She is the face of thousands of corpses. The face of thousands of what ifs. A bittersweet dream. A constant longing.

Most of the time when people look at her they don't see her they see someone else. Her simply existing turns the entire society into a haunted house. She's a ghost, she's better off invisible and while I don't think it's intentional she gets pushed to the side a lot by most people I think Miguel, Jess and Peter might be the exception in this concept but even then its gets complicated due to her connection with Miles and eventually this kinda starts rubbing off in an unsettling way.

Gwen is implied to be very high ranking in the society. Jess calls her "her star pupil" and Lyla warned Gwen about the spot before Hobie and Pavitr. And Miguel's "You knew better, Gwen !" She justs seems to be a part of Miguel's gang of higher ups with Peter B and Jess and all that and considering the fact that she's been there for just a few months that's saying something.

I think Gwen took a lot of training and missions to prove herself, and maybe Miguel sent her on more missions to distract her from Miles and stuff. Hell he might have trained her along with Jessica at times which considering how stern they can be I wouldn't be suprised if this rubbed off on gwen who didn't really have anyone else besides Peter and Hobie. Like she has been Spider Woman more than gwen stacy at this point.

Speaking of Spider Woman, I think it's a good time to bring up how gwen's mental state gets fucked up around her identity as a superhero and how it plays into my idea of her being creepy thing. Because like Spider Woman is litteraly considered a murderer in her dimension and isn't very liked. And while yes its true that in most universes Spider Man has its haters. It's way worse in Gwen's dimension like in the comics she gets shocked when people thank her kinda bad. She has supporters but sadly the people who call her a monster are the most vocal. Like even her dad saw Spider Woman that way and even after finding out who she was still pulled a gun at her face so yeah.

Gwen already blames herself for Peter's death and general public opinion doesn't really help with leaving that guilt behind. She internalizes those things. So I think that do her deep internal feelings Gwen might be at times more ruthless and violent than your typical spider hero which can already be shocking especially in contrast to how graceful she can be as spider woman . I don't think she wants to be. But i think its just the internal intrusive thought "No matter what I do I am a monster why pull back ?" And with her whole canon event I think she might be prone to being reckless and throwing herself at danger and being the one to make the biggest sacrifice because hey she is already fated to die.

So yeah I think that at times when the stakes are high Gwen is one of the scariest spiders when she snaps. Like the treatment she received and internalized kinda jumps out and its not pretty at all. And even just in context of her not being in a mission i still think she can be cryptid looking because she kinda acts like she's invisible and just avoids being noticed due to all the peters around.

Like just imagine her beat up with a broken mask and all you see are her cold eyes and its weird because its almost like you have a dead person staring at you and in some ways that's exactly what it is. Or her accidentally scaring people because she's so quiet that they don't see her coming.

Just her looking like a dead girl walking and yeah maybe in a way she is but...it just looks to real and unsettling.

One last thing about this, Miles notices and hates every second of it. In fact I think all of her close friends hate it.

[fastidious-and-a-mess]

i’m making this its own post actually.

no more ship wars. society has progressed past the need for ship wars.

[stairset]

I do feel like the way Kyoshi was written in the Avatar reboot was lowkey influenced by the fandom's perception of her. Cause like in the original show she's really just portrayed as a pragmatist who's willing to kill if necessary. Like Aang is conflicted about killing the Fire Lord and she's like "well if I were in your position I'd do it but that's just me. Good luck." And then people started making memes where she's like a murderous psychopath who thinks extreme violence is always the solution. And it was funny at first cause it was just exaggerating for comedy but now everyone thinks she was actually like that in the show when she really wasn't. And then in the remake her introductory scene is her angrily yelling at this 12 year old that he needs to stop being a little pussy and be a ruthless warrior or whatever and the only explanation I can think of is that someone in the writer's room maybe looked at a few too many of those memes.