#spidey-dip

[batfamfucker]

Pavitr reminds me of Dick so much. They would be besties and bond over their hair together 😭

[a-little-monotonous]

hrmmm thinking about spiderman oc.......

[justalitlecreacher]

If Pete retires how the hell am I gonna get the rest of his suits

[bruisedboys]

also also!!!!!! peter x clumsy!reader might be the best pairing. because his spidey senses ugh he’s always catching you before you trip. like an arm around your back and then he dips you down to be dramatic and you get all flustered. and!!! if you’re not in arms reach he definitely shoots a web at you to pull you into his chest before you can do any damage. you both have several heart attacks a day because you’re such a klutz.

I am always on the peter x clumsy reader agenda!! they are so special to me!!! also the thing you said about him catching you and dipping you down omg I could die.

fem!reader 0.7k words

You’re still in the process of patching yourself up when Peter gets home, your knees scraped and a box of big Band-Aids waiting for you on the coffee table. You were hoping to be done by the time he got home, to save him the worry. No such luck. You hear the front door open and you don’t have time to hide your fresh wounds, your evidence of yet another accident.

You’re sure you look quite pathetic when Peter emerges in the doorway.

“Hi, dove! I missed— are you bleeding?” His smile drops and so does his bag. He doesn’t bother taking his jacket off. He strides across the room and gets to his knees in front of you. His hands find your thighs, thumbs just shy of your fresh scrapes.

“Oh, honey,” he coos. He’s not shocked, at least. You think maybe it’s happened so many times it doesn’t phase him anyway more.

His eyebrows pinch together as he scowls at your poor knees, his hands squeezing your thighs. He gives your injuries a once over before lifting his head to look at you sadly. “What happened?”

You frown. “Tripped in the driveway,” you admit moodily. “I’m fine, really. Looks worse than it feels.”

Peter huffs morosely, “I wish I was there when it happened. Could’ve caught you, baby.”

You melt. You’re endeared by his care for you. You smile at him and reach out to push his hair from his forehead, his curls soft under your fingers. You drag your hand down the side of his head, fingers heavy, and let your palm rest over his cheek. Peter’s eyelids flutter under your touch.

“It’s okay, Pete,” you tell him brightly. “You can’t win ‘em all.”

Peter laughs, his smile blinding. “Thanks, babe.” He twists his head so he can kiss your palm, a warm press of his soft, wind-bitten lips. “Let’s get you patched up now, hm?”

Peter patches up your knees, hands gentle as he cleans your wounds and presses Band-Aids over them. He’s a practiced hand, having done this plenty of times, on your legs, elbows, fingers, you name it. Though you must admit, you’re far less prone to accidents with Peter around. He catches you more times than he doesn’t. Today was just bad timing.

When Peter’s done fixing you up he lays a kiss on each of your knees, over your fresh white Band-Aids.

“All fixed,” he says happily, sliding his hand up your thigh to give your hip a squeeze.

You beam and cover his hands with yours. “Thanks, Peter.”

Peter stands and pulls you up with him. Your knees sting, but only a little, and it’s nothing you’re not used to.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, head ducked so he can meet your eyes, his hair tumbling into the space between your heads. “I can get you some ice, if you like?”

You shake your head. You’d much rather have him stay this close forever. “I’m okay, Pete.”

Peter still looks unconvinced, a frown tugging at his lips. He thinks for a second, then, “Do you want a hug? ‘Cos I know I do.”

You giggle. You’d kill for a hug right now. “Sure.”

You push your arms under his and he circles you in his strong hold, pulling you as close as he can to his chest. He’s careful to avoid your knees bumping his, legs moving so yours are between his. You push your face into his firm chest and breathe him in, his smells, his cologne and the wind on his clothes and that lovely scent he carries around with him everywhere, like old books and coffee shops.

Peter’s face falls into your neck and he sighs, practically melting into you, latching onto you like glue. He’s warm and he’s soft and he’s Peter. The pain in your knees is completely unnoticeable when he’s holding you like this.

“My poor, clumsy girl,” he says eventually, mostly fond, but there’s a whisper of cheek that you don’t miss.

You scowl into his chest. “M’not clumsy,” you whine, though you definitely are and you both know it. “The pavement is uneven.”

Peter pulls back, his big hands on your upper arms. He’s smiling like an idiot. “It is?”

You nod fervently. “Yeah. S’why I tripped.”

Peter nods slowly like you’re telling the truth, like the pavement in the driveway isn’t perfectly even.

“Stupid pavement,” he says.

You giggle and hide your face in his chest again.

-

[futureplayboibunnie]

let them bleed for all I care

Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

being fuckbuddies with Miguel O’Hara wasn’t easy when you were both intensely yearning

another angsty so damn wrapped up in romance brainrot blurb piece of this man because i’m still insane. this is definitely a self serve fic but idc i’m sharing anyway. ALSO THERES A PART 2!

warnings: angsty sweet nothings and confessions, mutual INTENSE pining, sensuallll (tehehe), waking up in bed, lil fluffy

A dim glow coated your room and in turn, clutched at your heart. The rows of streetlights outside beaming against the deep dark horizon and peeping through the unsheathed window offered the perfect fuzzy gleam to make Miguel's face look even more perfect. Being twisted and disheveled in bedsheets with a man that struggled with letting anyone in would be a shocking revelation two months beforehand.

Miguel was...untrusting and cold, everyone seemed to come to that conclusion with him. He was a force of nature, something that you once thought was inhuman and unfeeling, that harsh and abrasive exterior being a tremendous cover for the lack of constructive outlets he had. At least he knew where he stood with everyone, living with himself in isolation was a form of self-preservation- and he was fine with it, but he wasn't happy with it. He had a tendency to lose himself in his rage or his panic, his body bore the brunt of it all. He would practically work his fingers to the bone in order to not talk to anyone, it was definitely a highlighted page of his own personal book of dramatic effects. You didn't want to just see the picture of himself he's painted- you wanted to fucking admire it like a lovesick fool. There were so many failed attempts to get closer to him, he was so dedicated to proving himself to be this leader that didn't need the weakness of having anyone, and that in turn only made him spiral into his own misery. Miguel tried so hard to not let you in, it was almost admirable if it wasn't so damn saddening. Every time you thought you were getting closer to him, he dismissed you and bit a clippy ‘’I'm fine. Leave.’’ It wasn't until you took advantage of the fact he doesn't have spidey senses and just swung onto his platform and just hugged him everything just went blank. Ever since then, he's called your name in the dark and contemplated on the zeal in which he would destroy those who would harm you. He had denied every single impulse he's ever had for you out of some misbegotten respect to his own personal impending doom to which he was still so attached.

Being fuck buddies had its benefits, no strings attached. You just had to tamper down your own feelings for him. It was easy enough for a while. You'd fuck, clean up and then leave in different directions. The routine changed though. You'd lay in bed a lot longer, you'd just hold each other and feel each other's skin. Neither of you would talk about it after. Miguel was lonely. He didn't like to admit it but he was. These clandestine moments with you were the only opportunity he had to breathe and let out everything inside of him.

Your head was on his chest, naked bodies tangled with each other as his arms held you steady and embraced you, your leg curled up and rested on his thighs, one hand buried in your hair and the other one resting on the dip of your waist feeling the curve of your skin. You were so warm, so soft, so good. Miguel liked it when you touched him like this, his body just constantly craved your contact.

Romance was never on the table for a man like him so obviously his body acted like it, he hadn't had the time for it until you came into his life and left your everlasting and distinctive mark. You fucked like a pornstar. Miguel's fingers stroked through your hair, breathing in the pretty scent committing it to memory. The atmosphere between you both was heavy and dense like you needed to talk about something but neither of you was committing to budge your will, you gazed at the marks on vour arms. The son of a bitch was so rough... just how you liked it, the punctures in your skin that his claws made only showcased such a thing. Your brows furrowed as you hummed at the sight of it.

‘’Too rough?’’ Miguel raised his eyebrow at your purpose, his voice gritty and not sympathetic in the slightest.

‘’No...perfect.’’ You replied under your breath, slightly saddened that this is all you'll ever be to each other. Just a fuck. The way you said it made his heart cave and a sense of confusion transferred onto his face. Is that what you thought of him? Or just the way he could fuck you. He turned his face to the side to gape at you with burning eyes, you looked so hazy and angelic, he grabbed your face in both of his hands and cradled it whilst using his thumb to smooth out the skin of your cheeks. Your eyes widened at his unexpected action of tenderness, his thumb traveled to your supple lips conveying a desperate and willing look on your face. Miguel's brows wilted sincerely and his mouth unhinged open as if he was going to say something.

“'What is it?”You murmured wantonly, a strange flame of desire burning into your chest, he has the ability to make or break you. He's always had the power to do that, you just weren't sure if he was willing to see it.

“'I've been...having bad dreams.'” Miguel's eyes diverted from yours as if he was embarrassed to say it, to admit that he was afraid. He wanted to ask something from you, he was sure it was going over the boundary of fuck buddies but he needed to ease his straining mind.

“'About?'” You implored but he just gave you a hard scowl filled with hubris. You sighed at his silence and just grabbed the hand that was on your face and kissed his palm. Miguel felt every single hair on his body stands to attention, litter of goosebumps trailed at his back at your ministrations and he felt it echo through his very soul. Both of you were going too far, breaching the terms of your agreement but you were two sad and lonely people trying to fill the void with the warmth of another person's body. “For God's sake, when will you stop being so noble?”

Miguel drank in your question and he uttered the words he knew would get him kicked out. “Can I stay tonight?”

“Miguel-“

“Please.”

Your hands raked through his hair, needy eyes searching his flitting from perfect feature to feature trying to understand if any of this was real. Did he feel what you felt for him? Or was he just too tired to go home? You didn't want to ponder the latter, you captured your lips with his gently as a confirmation. Your head rested against his chest, tracing your fingers against his skin like an odd form of tenderness. You didn't like what you were feeling: you were starting to fall in love with him.

-

Miguel awoke in a daze, his vision blurring into shapes and stars as the nightfall outside seeped into your room. He felt your warmth beside him and it soothed the wits about him, your steady breathing offered an equilibrium that he never had. A wave of protectiveness washed over him- his sentiments have always stayed the same when it came to you. What besides love inspires such pain and yearning?

Miguel leaned in and kissed behind your ear as you mumbled into nothing and your hands slid beneath the pillow as you stretched. Your hair fell with such ease and grace, a hazed-out mess on the bedsheets as your frame indented into the mattress, slivers of skin peeking out as you tangled and breathed. If anyone laid a finger on you it would be his undoing. He'd send them screaming back to hell, the dark thought sliced through his brain and he glanced at you to nullify it. He leaned up and sat on the edge of his side of the bed, Miguel glanced at you again to make sure you were sleeping. He clenched his jaw and a hand ran down his naked back and rested on his neck- as if he were trying to find the words to start a confession. A bubbling of words started to build up within him, he felt a need to just verbally say this out loud to you but without you actually knowing of it consciously. Miguel elbows dug into his legs as he gazed at his intertwined fingertips and let out a breath, finally finding the words he's always wanted to say to you.

“I don't know what's happening to me,” He began “I don't know why I've let it get this far. I shouldn't have given into my own selfish demands. Hell, I've done it once before and a whole fuckin’ universe collapsed...dios mio.” He raked an exasperated hand through his hair at the painful memory that was seared into his mind. “You just had to ruin everything for me, you just had to fuckin’ touch me and I was yours, now what kind of pathetic does that make me? What do I do with all this? What do I do with you?” Miguel paused to regain his self control and calm his frustrations but a sliver of sadness dropped into his chest instead.

“It's funny... You're so easy to hate. You're so easy to love. What the hell do I do with this hermosa? Just tell me what to do and I'll do it, just tell me what you want...tell me what you want from me...cause it feels like you're just taking it at this point. You're taking from me and now I'm fuckin’ broken down and hungry for you like a dog waiting for scraps hermosa. The rational part of me hates it but the other rabid part is just begging at your feet. I'm like a fuckin’ mutt for you...I'm in love with you mi vida.” Those words fit perfectly in his mouth: I'm in love with you. It tasted fucking glorious, it tasted sweet and sad at the same time, it was revolutionary. It was like those words were destined to come out of his mouth, just for you to hear. “It's ironic because you'd probably kick me in the teeth for saying such a 'formidable’ thing but I'm not blind, I can't deny what's in front of me and I don't want to keep ignoring it.’

A soft inhale of your breath ended his confession, you twisted your body to the side as your cheek was planted in the pillow facing him. You stretched out your arm onto his side of th bed as if you were reaching out for him, wanting to find his warmth. Miguel couldn't help but admire you in a trance like state while you were like this, at your most natural, at your most beautiful. He'd seen your face contorted in pleasure when he fucked into you, your body arch into his touch when his face was buried between the sweet valley of your thighs but he had never seen you look like this. Like an angel from the clouds as the white sheet barely covered you- you looked like a painting. Your long lashes were fanned out against your cheek and your lips were parted for your gentle breathing, the swell of your chest rising and falling in a synchronised rhythm. You looked perfect. He hated it.

Miguel slipped back into bed and under the sheets, finding your warmth once again. He held onto you, his palm clutching at your waist as your head eased onto his chest. His brows tensed before he kissed your temple, a thought occured to him. Every day he was with you and had you were the days he would go home and sleep soundly and didn't dream, he hadn't thought there was a correlation, now he connected the dots and the picture became all the more clearer. There was nothing he could do. He just had to suppress his needs and desires and put everything else in front of him.

-

Your eyes seeped in the tiredness the beginning of the morning offered, and the chirping of the birds outside of your window echoed through your ears, serving as a gentle reminder of the night before. A heavy feeling set in your chest as you turned your gaze to Miguel's broad and bare back, worry glazed over your eyes as you remembered the words he uttered last night when he thought you were asleep. You couldn't believe it...you wouldn't believe that all this time you weren't alone in your yearning. You couldn't quite grasp that you had Miguel O’Hara on his knees, begging to love you.

You wanted to take it from him so bad but a pang of guilt started eating at you. Your arms immediately embraced his frame as you nuzzled his neck and inhaled the deep cadence of the lingering notes of cologne from last night. Miguel's soft copper hair was messy and disrupted, without thinking you raked your fingers through his hair. Miguel was already awake, he felt it and he grumbled into it, melting against your blessed touch. Your other hand traced down his broad shoulders and his back, feeling his skin, tracing the pads of your fingers down his warm, golden flesh.

"Hmm." Miguel breathed raggedly at the sensation. “Morning.” you kissed his shoulder as you nuzzled your face into his neck, inhaling deeply. Miguel's eyes widened at your action, unsure as to why you were showering him with affection- it's never been like this before. You've never woken up with each other before. Miguel struggled to leave and get out of your hold and it seemed like you were doing it on purpose.

“Don't leave...”You whispered woefully in his ear, planting a kiss on the base of his neck. “Don't leave me...” Miguel was stunned and it was obvious by the way his brows furrowed, he wasn't sure if it was the fact he just woke up or if it was his half-crazed manic mind playing tricks on him.

He twisted his body to face you, his cheek buried in the pillow and the look you shared was that of pure longing, your hands went to his hair again, tracing the outlines of his face with your thumb. “I heard you...” Your sad eyes were lit by the liquid gold of the sun, Miguel would have been entranced if any other words fell out of those pretty lips of yours. He wasn't so lucky. He heard the exact thing that his very soul was dreading.

“I'm sorry you had to.” Miguel's eyes shot open and glared a hole into your face when he said it, feeling genuinely sorry for you. Instead of saying anything you moved your body and clambered onto his lap and bent down to kiss him tenderly. His calloused palms felt at your thighs and the outskirts of them, your hair fell to the side as your bodies slid over each other. Miguel was confused at what you felt, what you wanted and what you were doing- you were just so damn hard to read sometimes. You nuzzled your head into his neck and breathed him in deeply, his massive arms wrapping around you tightly like he would die if he let go.

"You know, I was never scared of you and I thought that made me stupid. Naive. You name it. You were so good at scaring people off, it was admirable, I couldn't help but be in fucking awe of you when you were being so…dangerous.” You spoke gently as your fingers went to trace something undistinct on his chest. “The others warned me that you'd probably rip my tongue out of my gaping mouth if I ever tried anything at all with you and I was half expecting you to break me in half like a toothpick when I just...held you....for the first time. Even if you did break me in half I would've relished every second of it, I think I've spent so much time practically begging you to just…break me.” Your voice faltered slightly and a smattering of whirlwind emotions started to rise within you. Miguel was hooked on your every word like a dog with a bird at your door. “When you told me you wanted me to touch you and that you wanted to touch me, I felt like... a teenager being asked out by an allstar jock. It was pathetic but I didn't care. It was you...and bit by bit, minute by minute I started to fall in love with you. I thought I was being a fucking idiot because who the hell was I to fall in love with Miguel O'Hara?” Miguel's silence was gruelling and heavy, he didn't want to answer your question becuase if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. His lips pressed against your temple and as always you melted into him.

“Don't think that little of yourself. I don't like it.” He murmured.

“It's not fair to you at all...all of this, I know that. All of these secrets bleeding into each other when you already have the weight of the whole fucking multiverse on those broad and tired shoulders.”

“Let them bleed for all I care.”

[izzystizzys]

There are outsiders inside the Guard headquarters - capital O Outsiders, in Thorn’s mind, whose palms are growing sweaty inside his gloves. There’s a crackle of static across his HUD which temporarily blurs the bright orange markings across Commander Cody’s armour in front of his eyes, and he wonders a little faintly if making a break for it would be worth it.

Maybe if he kicked the Commander in the shin. Emotionally, if not realistically.

General Kenobi hums deeply into his mysterious Jedi beard, and Thorn abandons that line of thinking. It would just mean leaving Thire in charge anyways, a thought he shudders at. Fox has been gone for only eight hours and twelve minutes, and already Thorn wants to spend the rest of his life in the scream closet. He has considerably more empathy for the Marshall Commanders refusal to keep to anything approximating an existent sleep schedule all of a sudden.

“This is a very strange turn of events”, the General remarks, for the seventh time that hour. He’s been hm-ing and ah-ing his entire trip through HQ, making that line of tension threatening to snap Thorn’s spine draw up tighter each time. He’s going to give Stabby a nervous breakdown, at this rate. “As I understand it, Marshall Commander Fox was considered rather severe to the point of disproportionality in his consciousness of duty.” General Kenobi’s face does something very strange. “Even considering the evidence and facts, I cannot picture him assassinating the Chancellor and kidnapping a Senator.”

Thorn can, actually, a thought he doesn’t voice. Assassinating the Chancellor, that is. A good number of the Guard can picture themselves doing exactly that, and Stabby needs to be physically restrained from doing it on a regular basis. He also cannot picture Fox kidnapping a Senator, though, especially that one.

Which is why this stinks to high heaven.

“General”, Cody breaks the awkward silence Kenobi was evidently waiting for Thorn to fill, “Fox didn’t kill the Chancellor - he couldn’t have. He would never -“ The 212th’s wonder boy pauses briefly, searching for something to say that conveys more gravitas than trust me, I just know. Evidently, he doesn’t find it, because he finishes lamely on, “- he just wouldn’t.”

Shows you how much you know, ori’vod, Thorn thinks acidly, with all the pent-up rage of two years’ time watching Fox silently break apart at the seams.

“We will get to the bottom of this, Cody”, Kenobi says soothingly, with the hope for someone who hasn’t been chewed up and spit back out but Coruscant. “I promise, the Jedi are doing-“

A loud banging noise drowns out the rest of Kenobi’s sentence, and then promptly cuts off the rest when part of the ceiling suddenly caves in with extreme prejudice - no, Thorn realizes, that’s the air vent being launched at the ground followed by a dark, blurry shape of long dreads and sandy Jedi robe. Heartbeat thundering in his throat, Thorn barely stops himself in time from unloading his blasters into the stranger and is only slightly comforted by Cody’s equally drawn blaster. Only Kenobi is unimpressed by the turn of events, Jedi space-spidey-senses and all.

“- everything we can”, he finishes dryly, flicking a speck of dust off his fellow Jedi. “Commander Thorn, meet Quinlan Vos. Quinlan-“

“Yes, yes, good morning or afternoon, whatever”, the Jedi - Vos - intercepts. Thorn doesn’t point out that it’s advanced evening dipping into the night-cycle, because it might make him lose his shit for good. “We have a problem, Obes. There’s some creepy shit going on here - Force, all of you need therapy.” That last bit is aimed at Thorn, he’s pretty sure. The furrowed brow definitely is. “And some heavy-duty medical assistance, I’m pretty sure. What the kriff is up with that?”

Kenobi’s eyebrows are steadily inching towards his hairline, and beneath the bucket and general assholery Thorn is sure Cody’s are doing the same. He’s rescued by a sudden chime from the Commander’s com signalling a priority level one message, and Wolffe’s grey armour that pops up.

“Kote, thank kriff I caught you - there’s some seriously weird stuff in the Chancellor’s office, the General said to get Kenobi over here as fast as possible. No sign of Fox, but-“

Which is when Vos decides to pipe up by throwing a comlink at Kenobi that makes Thorn’s chest grow cold with panic, because it should be locked behind several bomb- and thief-proof doors deep in the lower levels. “Right, I might be able to help with that!”

Which is when, to Thorn’s growing horror, the comlink lights up and all he can do is watch numbly as Fox’s voice crackles through.

“-kriffing Sithspit is going on, Thorn, you can’t just send out distress signals and then not answer, was your growth tube kriffing dropped or -“

A loud, familiar wailing sound interrupts Fox in his rant, just as it was starting to get good. Thorn wants to bang his head into the wall. Thorn wants many things.

“MEESA NO MEAN TO IMPALE THE CHANCELLOR ONSA PEN, MEESA SORRY!”

[ourmadmusings]

a/n: Miguel O’Hara does not get a spidey-sense in the comics. His senses are super-human, yes, but his hearing, sense of smell, and even his eyes are hyper-sensitive, to the point that he wears tinted glasses to keep his eyes from too much light exposure - He suffers from debilitating migraines from his eyes.

It starts with a single sharp throb in his left temple, every single time. 

he’s at his desk, staring at screens all day lately, he lets out the most pathetic groan. 

quickly, the space behind his eyes starts to throb, too, and eventually he gets spots in his vision before his whole head is in a tight vice, the muscle band around his skull cinching. 

he leaves his desk and his watch. He tells his AI not to disturb him.

you, of course, are out on a task to collect an anomaly. 

his eyes are swimming by the time he falls face-first into his bed, wrapping a pillow around his face to keep any light out. He falls asleep pretty quickly after that. 

“Miguel?” It’s a whisper, hardly heard by a normal ear, but he picks you up immediately. He’d heard you walking up to his front door, actually. “Hey, honey, how’re’ya feelin?” He feels the bed dip as you sit and groans in response. You tut a little, reaching out to rub small circles in the muscles on his back. Your usual sweet scent makes him nauseated. You’d even gone home to shower, forgoing any perfume of any kind, just a bar soap, but it wasn’t enough.  Your hands move to massage his neck, trying to relieve some of the tension. If he could, he’d be purring like a cat at the touch. “Headache.” He finally says, voice so small it makes your chest ache. Super-human eyesight means super-human migraines.  You stand, and he protests the lack of touch, going to gather his pain killers, some water, and a tube of icy-hot. You all but pull him up, keeping his pillow on his eyes the whole time. “Open.” he simply pops his mouth open and you place three small, green pills in. You hand him the water and shift to straddle his back. Your legs are stretched almost too much as he settles into your chest. You pop the cap of the muscle relaxer and make quick work of spreading it over his neck, shoulders, and around his forehead. Trying your best to massage away some of the pain, the man could cry at how gentle you’re being. He’s sure you’re beat up and bruised from your mission, and yet here you sit, your touch so gentle he thinks he could have died in this moment and died happy, despite the constant shocks of pain in his head. “Thanks,” is all you get as he moves down to lay in your lap, trying to fall back to sleep as you run your hands through his hair. You don’t reply, but his breath evens out quickly - he’ll feel better in the morning. 

[konigenblobbity]

Metallic Beauties

Hobie Brown x Spidey!F!Reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Fluff, NSFW, nipple piercings, almost skinny dipping, Hobie being an absolute slut for your nipple piercings, tit biting and sucking, nickname

Summary: After a successful mission together, Hobie wants to show you a ‘new spot’ he found. Which turns out to be a rooftop hotel penthouse, with its own private pool. Hobie convinces you to take a relaxed moonlight swim, as both of you begin to strip you remember that you recently got a new accessory. Hobie not having yet seen your new nipple piercings… you can’t wait to see how he reacts.

A/n: Read a work by @murdrdocs about Hobie with a reader with nipple piercings and I was INSPIRED! Definitely check it out —> link. Also! Hobie has my whole heart… love this anti-establishment British heartthrob.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched Hobie do a series of dramatic poses between each swing on his web. You had just completed a day long mission with the punk, with expert skill and not a single slip up. Even made sure to keep the anomaly contained to an unexpectedly effective degree. You couldn’t help but share Hobie’s excitement.

Hobie was your closest friend on the team, having joined a few months ago, you were seen as a new recruit, not yet trusted… he didn’t see you like that. Due to Hobie’s lack of interest - more like borderline hatred - for labels, you two weren’t defined… merely thought of yourselves to be ‘close’.

Close being, telling each other anything and everything, having each others backs no matter what, you even getting involved in some of his demonstrations he went to, tending to each other - whether for injuries or… other needs. The two of you were inseparable, but undefined. Even though many of the other spider-people just wished you two would just accept you’re dating.

“Oi love, I wanna show you a lil somthin’, a new spot I’ve been hangin at” his words peaked your interest, and you just nod. At that he begins to swing off in another direction, ducking and weaving through a series of buildings. Trying your best to keep up, your curiosity only grows with each swing.

When he finally stops, he’s standing on the rooftop of a hotel. You land next to him and look around, seeing a large pool, a series of lounge chairs, and even a small seating area with a large fire pit. This ‘new spot’ was a hotel rooftop penthouse suite.

“Well… who did you bribe to be allowed here?” Your tone was playful as he begins to walk towards the pool, you following close behind. He chuckles lowly, and looks over at you, hands on his hips. “What can I say… I’ve got connections.” he peels off his mask and tosses it onto the lounge chair behind him.

“It’s not booked” he adds hoping to calm your slight unease. He didn’t need to use his spidey-senses to know that. Hobie had always been an amazing observer, picking up on the way you slightly shift your weight, how your pick at the fabric of your suit, how your eyes glance away every few seconds. It was easy to notice those things… because he often couldn’t help but observe you.

You take off your mask as well, throwing it on the lounge chair behind you, positioned right next to his. As you watch him strip out of his boots, then his vest and shirt your eyes widen. He notices your shocked expression and chuckles with an amused grin. “What? We just did a mission which’l keep Miguel off our asses for months. I’m just celebratin’, love”

You roll your eyes at his words but can’t help but agree. This mission was a pain and the pool looked really enticing. He continued to strip, peeling his shirt off, and unzipping the top half of his suit. You keep your gaze on him, intending to give him an incredulous look but unable to hide the slight awe in your eyes. You couldn’t help it, although you’d never admit it, Hobie looked good in anything… or even in nothing.

He smirks and jokingly remarks “Close your mouth… it ain’t like you haven’ seen me naked before” and he���s right, you’ve gone skinny dipping before, in fact you’ve both gotten naked on multiple occasion. Strip poker, just happenstance when you’re both high as kites, and times when you both agree the heat in your reality is unbearable.

You scoff “Well Hobie… when you’re right you’re right” before removing your shoes, and any clothes you wore over your suit. Then reaching to your back and unzipping your spider suit. As you pull it down you pause, remembering that you don’t wear a bra underneath the suit, feeling your bare back where the strap would be.

Hobie was just in his boxers now, and after putting his things on his lounge chair, he immediately dives into the water, quite elegantly if you say so yourself. You watched his figure under the water until his head broke through the surface. A hand coming up and rubbing his face.

He still had his jewelry on and the now wet metal glistened under the pool lights. They were a soft blue and lined the pool wall, with some additional lights outside of it. You could only stare as his figure was illuminated in a soft blue, reflecting of his face piercings beautifully. You were only able to break away your gaze when he spoke.

“The waters peak love, hop in before I come up there and throw you in” the lopsided grin on his face made it clear he wasn’t joking. You chuckle but then gulp, feeling suddenly vulnerable. Although he’s seen you naked before, you hadn’t yet told him that recently you got a new little piercing. Well… two new piercings.

They were fully healed now but you only got them a week or so ago. Not having yet found the correct way to tell or show him. You knew he wouldn’t judge, but you weren’t sure whether he’d like them. As much as you tried to convince him otherwise, with snide remarks and playful insults, you were nervous what he thought and truly cared about his opinion.

You turn away from him, showing him your back as you finish unzipping the suit and slip it off. When you turn he groans, his voice low “you bloody tease…” and you just chuckle before retorting back. “You bloody perv…”. You finished getting undressed, standing there only in your panties and jewelry, most of which you stole from him,

You placed your things on the lounge chair next to his, which already had your mask on it. As you were folding your suit and clothes, not wanting them to get wrinkled, there was a soft splash sound behind you. You place your mask on top of the pile of clothes and then turn back to the pool.

“If any of my things get soaked I sw-“ Once you turn back around towards the pool, he was gone. Your smile drops and your brows furrow. You walk to the edge of the pool looking down into it, thinking he was under the water. Your spoke cautiously, searching for him “Hobie? Where’d you go?” No response.

You go to turn around and gasp, suddenly face to face with Hobie. “Took too long. In ya go.” Before you can even react, Hobie pushes you into the pool. You let out a soft yelp and before landing in the pool you can see the smirk on his face.

There’s a loud splash as you fall into the pool, slowly sinking to the bottom, you open your eyes under the water and, in blurry vision, see Hobie dive into the water after you. Once again his dive is graceful, managing to perfectly align his body with yours, parallel to one another.

You watch through blurry vision as he glides up the length of your body, feeling his hands slide up your thighs, hips, and stop at your waist. His gaze focused on your face, until, from his peripheral vision, he catches a glint of light.

Even in his blurry vision he can see it’s coming from your chest. He tilts his head downwards, his eyes moving away from your face. They widened as he spots the two small silver beads in each of your nipples. You don’t have to see clearly to know he’s looking at your tits, your face beginning to feel flush at how entranced he appears to be.

You use his haze to swim away from him, his hands sliding off your waist. You take in a breathe as you resurface out of the water, shaking your head to shake off some of the water on your face. You open your eyes and look forward, watching as Hobie’s head pokes up after yours.

You were both standing in the shallower end of the pool, feet touching the ground, only a mere meter from one another. You felt your heartbeat quicken as he stands tall in front of you, feeling intimidated by his figure looming over you. His eyes were focused back on your piercings, now being able to see them clearly.

“Well well well… when’d you get those done?” You shrug, deciding to play coy. You tilt your head and furrow your brows. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at… what are you referring to?” Unable to hide the sly smirk growing on your face.

You watch as he pokes his cheek with his tongue, his eyes looking back up into yours. His gaze pinning you in place, unable to move from where you stand. He grins and let’s out an amused chuckle. “Tsk. Always so coy” His voice was low, but his accent was thick… he knew how you got whenever he spoke like that.

You watch as he moves towards you, a smirk still plastered on his face and his eyes narrowed. “I’m referring to…” you shudder slightly as his hands slide up your waist again, but then go to grope your breasts, his thumbs softly rubbing on each piercing. “These metallic beauties” his touch has you humming softly and looking into his eyes, his gaze lustful… you can only imagine you look the same.

He leans forward, his face now settling into the crook of your neck as he mumbles against your skin. His breath sending a shiver down your spine. “Hm. Isn’t that interestin’. They feel even better than they look…” His hands move back to your waist and, as if you weight nothing, he lifts you partially out of the water.

Recognizing his action, you know what he wants, you can only give in… wrapping your legs around his waist, allowing his hands to move to your thighs to hold you up. His face now directly in front of your breasts. “I wonder how they taste…” those words made your breath catch in your throat, back arching as his lips latch onto one of your piercings.

Your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue began toying with your piercing. His hands grasp tightly at the flesh of each of your thighs, “God… they taste even better” his soft groan sending vibrations through your entire body. His mouth was doing wonders, being so gentle with your bud, but effortlessly driving you mad with each flick of his sharp tongue.

The way he paused before beginning to lay searing hot licks over the entirety of your nipple with the pad of his tongue. It had you taking in shaky breaths. As his lips wrapped around your bud again. you could feel his coy smirk, clearly loving the reactions he was getting out of you. He took the piercing in between his teeth and that one action had you dizzy.

Loving the mix of pain and pleasure he was giving you. He began to move away, sucking at the piercing, his lips pulling away with a soft pop. You let out a shaky moan, barely audible but he heard it. And he wanted to hear more… loving the way he felt your body lightly tremble in his arms. The mere thought that he had this much power over you… it had him hazy and his only focus right now was you.

“You’ve been naughty haven’t you? Hiding these from me…” he moves his lips to your other breast, not wanting to leave it left out. He leans in, sticking out his tongue and softly circling the piercing, dragging a whine out of you. “Should’ve asked me to pierce them for you. Would’ve made them look perfect” he then closes his lips around the second piercing. Teasing it the same as he did the last.

You look down at him, his eyes immediately locking with yours. Your own glossed over with pleasure, his half-lidded, focusing his energy on perfectly teasing your bud. “A-are they not perfect?” You question. Not intending to be playful, but rather serious; genuinely asking him. Wanting to know what he thought, and getting tense at the idea that he didn’t think they were perfect.

“Aw… of course they are love. In fact, they look absolutely fucking ravishing on you” he begins to softly kiss your piercing, before going to kiss around it as well. Leaving open mouth kisses, and soft purple bruises in the process. “I just can’t help but be envious… knowing someone else got the pleasure of piercing them” he then bites at the skin of your breast.

You gasp lightly, your eyes fluttering closed again. Biting your lip as he takes the piercing back in his mouth, speaking against your flesh. “Watching you strip, then being able to praise you for stayin’ nice and still, watchin’ your face contort from pain… fuck darling what I would give to’ve been there” each of his words went straight to your head, making you more dizzy by the second.

“W-well… actually. I did them myself” you smirk and look down at him again. He pulls away from your chest, his mouth falling agape, his gaze locking on yours. A grin slowly gracing his lips. “Well fuck…” he moves a hand up to the back of your head, pulling your head down, crashing his lips against yours.

“My brave little bird aren’t you?” He mumbles against your lips, there’s something about the way he says it that has you whimpering against his lips. The way he calls you ‘his’… even if he didn’t like labels of what your relationship was, your heart sings at such praise from him. You softly nod your head, moaning against his plush lips and then feeling him smirk against yours.

His hand grasped your hair, pulling your lips from his for a moment, looking deep into your eyes, his own filled with desire. But you saw… something new. An aura of possessiveness, of unfiltered want… but what caught your eye the most was the smallest glint of pure affection and admiration.

“That’s you isn’t it hm? My bird… my best bird. All mine.”

[nanabrainrot]

Leg Lock [Pervert!Miguel]

Miguel isn’t convinced you’re as adept in as many martial arts as you say; he says you can only prove it with a spar.

Warning! NSFW content ahead. DUBIOUS CONSENT - reader is oblivious the way he’s wrestling is to cop a feel and that he cums on himself :/ what a freak

Pervert!Miguel x F!Oblivious!Reader

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You were none the wiser. Your spidey senses just didn’t pick up on the ways of men - you were no mind reader. The definition of book smart but not street smart. It’s unbelievable you accepted his personal “challenge” to spar and no less showed up in this ensemble: the smallest compression shorts that was barely even the size of boyshorts and a form fitting tank with a v that dipped dangerously low to the stretch of skin between your tits.

The fact he turned up the air conditioner and had the fan looming above on full blast only served to sweeten the sight by making your nipples pebble against the polyester mix. If he put enough friction across your chest, if you were sensitive you’d surely moan or at least give him a choked gasp; something to jack off to later.

“You ready to eat your words, Miguel?” you huffed seriously. The comical difference between you two was shown in the shadow cast by the fluorescent overhead light in the spinning fan: he was standing hands on his hips and stone-faced at one end of the personal training room and you at the other, bouncing on the balls of your feet with hands already stiff in front like a boxer. It didn’t help it looked like a yippy chihuahua hounding a rottweiler for a fight.

“Just try to at least land a hit -“

You lunged forward, shin flying up to try and meet his neck only to be blocked by his forearm. His eyes widen at your fast pace, but narrow as he meets your onslaught of moves with defenses. The little wraps around your fists do graze his skin as you batter at him with a flurry of fists like a boxer, though your kicks definitely reminded him of capoeira. The speed of it had to be from mixed martial arts and speedboxing while your grace and precision was karate inspired. And he could tell you did jiu jitsu by the way you tried to get him in a leg lock, jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist and use your arms to push at his neck hard enough to knock the wind out of him.

You had to have known that move would have put you in this position: back pressed hard to the mat with no way out. You were incredibly skilled, surprising him with the flurry of fists and kicks fast enough to put him in a position where he could only really use defense but definitely underestimated what he was willing to do to best you.

Miguel had a black belt in jiu jitsu, teaching classes at the dojo Gabby went to back in Nueva York, hard pressed to raise a girl who could handle her own. If you hadn’t overestimated yourself and started off using so much energy, you wouldn’t be panting like this.

Your brows knit, face tense with focus as you gauged your next move but his mind was anywhere but this spar: his cock was against your groin. The sorry excuse of shorts left nothing to the imagination only confirmed that under it was nothing but your bare puffy cunt as his knees drove into the mat to set you in place under him, your wrists pinned under his. “You didn’t land a hit. Too big of an ego can get you -“

A hard impact of your feet hitting his pecs and sending him back from the surprise as you rolled back in a tuck and jumped to your feet back in a boxing stance. Flyaways stuck out from your messy hair from being pinned to the mat as your chest heaved, bouncing on the balls of your feet.

“Can get me what?” you snorted in between short breaths.

“Get you -“ Miguel lunged forward, his legs long and strong enough to dart behind you to grab you by the waist and drag you to the floor, “-killed.”

Whines and grunts of struggle left you as you tried to get out of the compromising position: Miguel had you in a nelson on the floor, big hot palms of his hands on your neck and arm pinning back your biceps as you tried to grab at his wrists to apply enough force to get him to have a looser grip.

Too focused is a bad thing, sometimes. The fabric of your volleyball compression shorts that were more like panties rode up as your ass grinded against his groin - cock hard and twitching in his sweatpants as your feet struggled to get enough friction with the mat to be able to do a backbend or tuck and roll to use your flexibility. Dozens of possible routes flit in your mind and zero of them acknowledged you were basically being dry humped by Miguel: his grunts from the friction mistakes for grunts of effort. In reality, you were easy to restrain but the issue was your agility and speed compared to his strength - a given granted his strength based workout regimen versus yours, which focused on flexibility.

“If powers were allowed, I’d have had you pinned in the first minute,” you panted, lip twitching in focus as you continued to roll your hips against his as you struggled to find footing to be able to utilize your flexibility and roll over him. He must be smart, you think (stupidly), as his legs suddenly push against the mat and have him standing: yet you hang there in a full nelson. “That’s not funny, Miguel!” you hissed, as his forearms settled under your thighs during the shift and the palms secured at your neck still. The size difference suddenly made you realize why spars had size and weight classes; but there were no weight classes with the villains and anomalies you regularly encountered, he chastisted as he offered a spar with you.

If you had your powers allowed, you would’ve had him against the ceiling by now. But you shook on it. God, you wish you had a weaker sense of integrity and just said fuck it and blasted him with your power to get out of this humiliating debacle. The only thing left in reach was his fingers.

Your hands fly to the fingers locked behind your neck keeping you mid air as you resorted to a dirty trick: scratching with nails. A low hiss emits as he drops you and loses footing, landing on top of you: groin to ass. The dirty trick leaves him huffing with anger as he suddenly has you in a head lock, your hands batting at him pathetically. You just wanted to tap out, he could tell, but he just needed one thing: to have his way.

His hips roll into your pussy, feigning it as trying to keep you pinned by shifting weight from knee to knee in a side-to-side motion and lurched forward sometimes. The fact you kept bucking your hips to get out of the pin only helped him along; the warmth of your pussy would have been nicer, but next spar. Knowing your competitive nature, you would go along with a naked wrestling competition if it meant coming out on top.

But he’s on top right now, his hot breath fanning your ear as you mewl and bat at the thick forearnms around your neck pinning you. “F-fine…!” you whine out, borderline pornographic in your pleading, “you win!”

His hips roll again, with you still bucking your hips back into him. “Say it again.” He knew your whiny nature, the way when you wanted your way you would do anything: most missions consisted of you pleading and begging to see the sights on other dimensions or stop by food stalls like you were on vacation. He fucking spoiled you but even bratty bitches need discipline.

“You win!”

“Louder!”

“You win, Miguel!”

A hot pant. Fuck, the way you were whining and bucking in this position was getting him close. A few more words and he’d surely cum, wearing the dark sweatpants and a long baggy tee that loomed over where the wet spot would be specifically with this in mind. No powers put you in a disadvantage, the height and mass difference would never let you win. A spar was just a reason to hump you as you stupidly wriggled and cried out. One more sentence, then he’ll cum, cum and stop. The urge will leave and he can go back to being sated and content without distraction; he was too busy to keep entertaining this disgusting fantasy of fucking you every day and night. Just one more sentence to freedom.

A hot puff of air in your ear before a deep raspy voice hisses, “Now tell me I’m big and strong and I’ll let you go.” Your eyes widen as you look in confusion at the mat, his face behind you as you chest was still glued to the mat thanks to his weight.

“T-tell you what?”

“Say ‘you’re too big and strong for me, Miguel.’” A roll of the hips.

“No! I can still win!” you buck back harder, hips shifting hard between his groin and the mat to try and get out. Your nails sink into his forearms but he doesn’t move. You can’t get out until you say it. It’s a shameful dawn of emotion that wounds your pride. But you can get stronger, spar with him more, until you can beat him - powers or no powers.

“Say it and you can go.” The wriggling winds down as time stretches, you finally going limp and panting on the mat with his weight still crushing you.

A gulp.

Softer than a whisper, “You’re so big and strong, Miguel…”

The cum spurts into his briefs, inevitably ruining them and leaving a wet spot in the pants. You’re too tired, limp, to feel his clothed dick twitch against your pussy through the shorts.

You don’t even feel happy when he clumbers off you; in your universe you were a master of the arts and your powers only enhanced this great feat. Yet, you still lost to your boss. You want a rematch.

No.

You need a rematch.

He clumbers away, slow heavy footfalls and low panting breaths as he strides to the exit of the personal training room. Sitting back on your heels still panting but back to him as he walked away you find enough energy to ask: “Same time next week, Miguel?”

You’ll win. You’ll run a million miles, do a thousand crunches, and eat your weight - no, Miguel’s weight in protein and come out victorious next week as you always do. Just because he’s a man it didn’t mean you had no chance: it only meant you had to work harder.

Quiet. He’s panting though, you hear it, but the strain in his voice isn’t just from the spar: “Same time next week.”

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hope yall likedd feel free to leave requests or anything in my inbox! its p empty rn - I have a hobie fic coming next <3

[secretaccountlol]

Smut with Peter x Reader where it’s their anniversary ( wedding or dating you choose) and they go raw for the first time and Peter is a absolute mess plus his dick is sensitive

Hiii~! Hm so. Hopefully this is to your expectations-!

So I interpreted, this as a bit of a subby/switch Peter I hope that’s alright.

this also can be read any spidey too :3

Also you didn’t use any she pronouns so I went ahead and made the reader AFAB! :3

18+ no minors <3

Cw:overstimulation, unprotected sex, teasing,switch!reader, switch! Peter.

“Peter…”

“Yeeesss?”

“Why am I blindfolded?”

“Can I not surprise my fiancé?”

Peter says ‘fiancé’ with a French accent, putting extra flavor in the ‘e’.

“You can but why do I have to be blindfolded!”

“Mm cus it makes it more exciting?”

You groan, “get on with it, Pete!”

“Ugh! Ewww ungrateful!” Peter put on a false voice, you held your laugh trying to keep the appearance of annoyance.

“I can see trying not to smile, baby. Can’t fool me” even though you can’t see him grinning, you could feel it.

“Okay, you caught me but please no more waiting I’m excited!”

“Alright.”

You felt a woosh as your eyes adjusted to the light, a gasp emits from your mouth as you feel Peter hug you from behind.

“Like it?”

“Awh, Pete you shouldn’t have.”

The living room was decked out with fairy lights, your couch was made into a fort moved from its original place to make way for big comfy blankets and pillows replaced it, with your favorite snacks and drinks in the middle and your head turned to the tv.

“Peter…” you feel a press of a kiss on your cheek as your eyes glitter with tears, an album of your best moments together plastered on the screen, some of the pictures were just of you when you weren’t looking at Peter. He liked that, taking pictures of you off guard, it was “artistic” he said.

“Do you like it?” You nod squeaking out a “yes”, it was clear you liked it but Peter always needed that extra reassurance.

You run over to the fort, you can’t contain your joy.

“Wait wait, before we sit down.” Peter puts his hands out before shooting his webs to grab a bag on the counter.

“Matching PJs.” Peter shrugs and you squeal with delight.

-

“Peter.”

“Yes, love?”

Your eyes train on Peter, biting your lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing nothing- just..I-I uhm have a ‘surprise’ b-but I feel like it’s lame compared to” you pause motioning all around the room, “This!”

“You know I don’t care about how grand it is.” Peter nuzzles his nose with yours making you giggle.

“W-well uhm. I-hh..”

Peter leans into you, eyebrows raised awaiting your answers.

“I-..started taking birth control. S-so we could ..”

“Do it without a condom?” Peter finished your sentence, his eyes glossed over, you nod you couldn’t get the words out so you’re glad he said it for you.

“I-i wanted it to be a surprise for our anniversary” you fiddle with your PJs you lift to see his eyes, his jaw was clenched as you scanned his face your eyes naturally travel down to his bulge.

The fabric strained against it you wet your lips instinctively stealing a glance at Peter’s lust-blown eyes, “I’m not gonna lie..I-i really I want to fuck you right now.”

“I mean” you pause, biting your lip, “I-I told you for a reason.”

You watch that as a glint in Peter started to form, the same glint you always see when you know he’s about to tease you.

“Tell me what you need, pretty one?” Peter’s hand's inch up your thighs, his head dipped down low to try to meet your eyes.

“Pete..”

“Come on, you can do it.” Pete’s lips graze your cheeks, his mouth near your ear now.

“We won’t get anywhere with silence, y’know? Communication is key right?”

“R-right.”

Peter holds your chin hostage forcing you to stare into his eyes, “What do you wanna do, hm?”

Your eyes wander a bit before you snap back to him via his hands gripping your chin hard, it makes you whimper.

“I guess you don’t wanna-“

“No!”

You close your eyes, breathing through your nose because opening them again, “n-no I.. I want t..to have sex with you…!” Your lips wobble after you spoke, he knew you were shy and he loved to exploit it.

“Now was that so bad?” Peter smirked as you broke out of your shy trance, you push him away

“Oh fuck you! You know I get flustered when you do that stuff!”

Peter’s hands play with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, “can’t help myself, you look so cute when your all embarrassed like that” Peter discards your pajamas top leaving your bare chest on display, you feel the urge to be modest but you know how Parker would react. His hands hooked onto your PJS bottoms, you lifted to help him slide them off you.

“God I’ll never get tired of looking at you, y’know that?” Pete traces your nipples with his tongue before undoing his shirt and pants.

You hum in agreement, “What’s with the rush, Petey?” you tease, well try to at least you leaned into his face, planting kisses gently which were returned in good favor. “Mm, when’d you learn how to tease?” Pete’s hands were soft as they cupped your face.

“You”

“Me?” he giggled as you nodded, “Nice to know I rub off on you.” His fingers creep up the sides of your body, eventually reaching your boobs giving them a squeeze then rubbing them in soft soothing circles.

“Pun intended”

“You’re so corny! we’re about to raw dog for the first time and you're making puns?” You climb into his lap, pouting to keep yourself from laughing at his antics.

“Mm, cus I know it makes you happy and cus I know you're nervous..” Petey smiles as your eyebrows arch.

“Mm? I’m not nervous bout that..” your head tilts in confusion until it hits you, he’s nervous. “Aw babe..” you shift your weight, pressing your core into his bulge.

Peter’s breath hitched, “I’m not nervous at all, I can’t wait to feel you cum in me.” Your eyelid lowered, your hands picking at his boxers, before diving into them, fishing out his cock.

Your hands glided up and down his cock, Peter's sharp breath made you grin your pace sped up in the effort for more. “Fuck-! W-who are you? W-what have you done to my fiancé?” Peter smirks in false control, only to be interrupted by a kiss from you.

“S-so soft.. I-i love your hands-“ Peter’s hands grasp your wrist, “but I don’t wanna c-cum there.” You pull your hand away, leaning back to study his face as his hands went to return to favor. Slithering into your waistband, “god, you’re so wet..I can’t wait to fuck you” Peter groans, his fingers slipping up and down your slit, probing your hole.

Your hips buck up with soft sighs, “No point in w-waiting, I’m wet e-enough..” you lift letting Peter slip off your underwear, “I wanna see your f-face when you enter me” you felt hot, you’ve never been this straightforward with him before but you could tell he relished it.

Peter nodded, breathless as you lined yourself with him. You grasp his dick, you push the tip against your clit, letting your slick cover it.

“Fuck- god! That.. that feels so good..” Peter’s words were through gritted teeth. “P-please baby put it in..” you feel a fire ignite in you, you want more.

You leaned against his chest, allowing your body to grind against his cock, letting your pussy slip up and down, “bab-baby fuck that feels so good. Please please- l-let me fuck y-you.” His voice was higher than usual, hands on the floor gripping the sheets, his hips trying but failing not to thrust into you.

“I’m sorry I was just getting payback for all the times you’ve edged me” you leave kisses on his lips, as you guide his dick to your hole, letting yourself slide onto it, agonizingly slow moaning as you adjust. Your eyes gazed at Peter, his mouth open but no words or sounds just pure bliss, his eyebrows knitted together, head thrown back.

You raise yourself, slamming back down, skin colliding on skin making a delicious smacking sound.

Peter whimpers, “fuckfuckfuck- you feel like heaven oh my god! So..sososo warm ohh.”, his hands instantly are off the floor and onto your hips. “Please d-don’t stop..! D-don’t stop pleasepleaseplease…!” Peter’s whines filled the air, his voice made your insides clench.

“Aah- fuckfuck- please do that again. Fuck! it feels so good.” His hands use your hips as handlebars, using them to push and pull you up and down his cock. “M-more more more I need more..! Nngh-“

“Oh god- Pete! Mmhn- “ your legs hug him tight, driving him deeper into hitting directly into your g spot, your head is thrown back as it hits over and over again.

Peter whines, “ooh-“ his thrust are sloppy as he fucks himself into you. “N-never been so dee-ahh…!“ Peter's hands are quickly planted on your back, laying you down, returning to hips in seconds.

A crushing grip, that will leave bruising marks to be remembered and kissed upon tomorrow. Peter’s whimpers swell in your mind as your own choked moans spill out your mouth.

Your hands travel down to your clit rubbing furious circles as you sob in pleasure. “P-peter! Mmmh- so fast..!” Your free hand pulls his head down for a kiss, his shaky breaths against your soft lips, you muffle both of your moans with a searing kiss.

Tongues and teeth clashing in a mess of lust and love, little whispers of “I love you” bounce back and forward as eyes gaze at each other through hazy vision and tears.

“Ooh..Pete-“ your eyes close as you buck up, “S-say my name again, please..” soft touches of the cheek compel you to say again and again, Parker’s fingers dig into your skin as his thrust becoming harder and harder making your body shake as your eyes pinched.

You arch as you feel yourself clenching, pressure building up more and more at your core. Peter keeps his tempo as you squirm, “g-gon-“ your hands go haywire as you let out a scream.

Your ears ring as you pant, fingers splayed out on his chest. “Oooh” Peter whines out more obscenities as he fucks you through your orgasm, “Y-y..fuck even more wet..I’m- fuck soosososo cl-“ peter sobs, hiccuping as his moans get louder.

“Fuck! Ilov- Mm! Iloveyousomuch!!” Peter's rough fingers make their way to clit, harsh and fast strokes make you whine, your body moves against your will trying to match his thrusts.

“I-I’m - shitshitshit- imcummin’!” Peter’s eyes roll back as he pumps into you, a warm pressure courses through your body as Peter's cock pulses in you, “Hhn-oh I-I can feel you in me..” you push your body against his cock, Peter throws his head back as obscenities flow out of his mouth.

“Ah-..! Y-you mm- you're practically milking me. Fuck-“ Peter presses down on your stomach you groan in delight. “I-I’m g-gunna cum again, Ah-mmhnn!” You throw back again, convulsing with pleasure.

“M-me too, fuck your- “ Peter grunts as crams more

cum into your hole, “Y-ya take it..take it”

The room was stuffy, both your heads were spinning as you breathed as you stared at each other.

“T-that was..”

“Amazing, spectacular, sensational?”

You half-hazard hit him, “You’re such a goofball!”

“Mmm, you love it though. Dontcha?” Peter winks with his head tilted, his hair stuck up and all different ways.

“Hate to admit it, but you’re right.” You ruffle his hair.

[caelesjjk]

entangled | jjk&kth - teaser

⟶title: entangled

⟶au: marvel au

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ genre: romance, smut, love triangle

⟶wc: 1.5k for this

⟶banner: by meee, and yes I’m insane and made a new one

⟶warnings: mentions of blood, kissing, a boob grab and an ass grab, but no actual smut for this, Jungkook calls you Data

⟶ summary: Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man.

He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend.

You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well?

Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world.

What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

⟶ authors note: hello darklings. I know a lot of people have been waiting for this fic, and you’ll have wait just a bit more. But in the meantime, I offer this little teaser to hold you over. A little glimpse of spidey kook. First chapter will be posted in just a few weeks!

Also, if you asked to be on the taglist just now that I tried messing with it for a long ass time and got annoyed lol. I may try again for the actual fic.

“What are you doing here anyways?” You shove against his broad chest and feel his arm release your waist. He sighs, following you inside your apartment.

“I know you’re upset I missed the study session…” Jungkook starts to explain, but you twist back around to face him.

“If my friends hadn’t seen you around campus now and then, they would think I made you up, Jungkook. You never show. It makes me look pathetic.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait for the next excuse.

“You aren’t pathetic, Data. I’m just…” Jungkook winces when he reaches for you, a hand moving down to his ribs in pain. “Sorry, it’s healing it’s just slow.”

“What’s healing? What happened to you?” You let the fight go for a moment, closing the space between the two of you and moving his hand out of the way.

Beneath his fingers is a large cut, bloody but half hidden by his suit. It looks angry and inflamed. What could’ve made a cut like this?

“It’s nothing. I’ll heal up in a couple hours.” He pulls your hand away, blood stained on the tips of your fingers.

“It won’t matter how quick you heal if it gets infected. Come in here.” Your hand wraps around his and you pull him into your small bathroom. You steady him against your bathroom vanity and move to grab your first aid kit from the cabinet above your toilet. “Take that off.” You gesture to his Spider-Man suit.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jungkook teases, gingerly working his top half out of the suit. He hisses through his teeth as he peels the suit away from his ribs and lets it hang at his hips.

You are not the universe's strongest soldier.

Your eyes drift over all the dips and curves of muscle. A perfectly sculpted chest and abs you could literally eat off of are scrambling every sense you have in your head. You need to focus. Stay focused on the task at hand and not his ridiculously toned body.

“You okay, Data?” He asks, humor in his voice. That horrid nickname he had given you in your first year as lab partners is feeling more endearing these days. You clear your throat.

“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? Just tending to Spider-Man’s wounds in my extremely tiny bathroom.” You try to laugh but it doesn’t sound genuine.

You take out some bandages and gauze and get to work cleaning him up. But even as you tape down the gauze, you can visibly see the wound getting smaller. Super powers were really something else.

“Data.” Jungkook’s voice brings you back to reality.

“What?” You sigh.

“Please come here.” His hands reach for your hips and you give in, letting him pull you until you’re flush against him, suddenly nose to nose. “That’s better.”

“I’m angry with you.” You whisper, heart pumping a bit faster in the close proximity.

“I know that you are. I’m really sorry…I swear I wanted to be there.” You look down to see him slip his gloves off his hands and sit them on the countertop before they’re coming up to cup your face.

“Then what happened? You need to tell me.” Your hands wrap around his wrists.

“There’s something out there, Data. A…monster that we can’t figure out. He’s strong…and fast. Nothing I’ve ever seen before.” His thumbs brush the corners of your mouth.

“What does it want?”

“It keeps breaking into the Lab across the River. It’s looking for something. But no one at the lab is being very forthcoming with information.” His forehead presses to yours, “but Mr. Kim is working on that part.”

Seokjin Kim, also known as Ironman. He was a mentor and a good friend to Jungkook. He had helped Jungkook navigate the new world of being a superhero and also gave him a job to help him pay for school.

“Hasn’t Mr. Kim told you to call him Jin over and over?” You tease, hands coming up to rest against his chest. Jungkook laughs quietly, pulling you closer.

“He has. Guess it just slipped out.” His hands move down to palm your ass.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” You raise an eyebrow in question of his actions.

“Just feels like I haven’t touched you in so long.” His warm mouth finds your throat and he presses kisses to the skin.

“Two days is a long time?”

“It is when it comes to you. Thinking about how much I want you gets so distracting.” He nuzzles into the crook of your neck making you giggle.

“So what I did for you two days ago wasn’t enough?” You let your hands slither down from his chest and over the planes of his stomach.

“Never enough.” His nose skims over your jaw until you’re back face to face and his lips are devouring yours. “I’d like to pay you back.”

“How?” You moan when you’re cut off by his tongue sliding into your mouth.

“Let me show you?” Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, taking your hand and leading you out of the bathroom.

Thinking he means to lead you to your bed, you start to pull him towards it but he seems to have other ideas, walking you back out onto the balcony. He releases your hand momentarily to slide his suit back up over his shoulders.

“What are you going to show me out here, Jungkook?” You start to feel suspicious.

“Do you trust me?” He jumps up onto your railing with ease, still holding your hand in his.

“Not if it involves you swinging me around off the side of buildings.” You start to pull your hand out of his, but his web shooter from the other wrist shoots a web at your torso, using his inhuman strength to pull you up onto the railing into his arms.

“I would never let you fall. Never. Just close your eyes for a few minutes. I promise it’ll be worth it, Data.” He touches your cheek gently, and even though you want to throw up every time he does this, you close your eyes and wrap your arms as tightly as possible around his neck and legs around his waist. “Ready?” He whispers in your ear, one strong arm wrapping around your back.

You don’t verbally answer, just nod once before burying your face into his neck.

And then the ground is no longer beneath your feet and the sickening feeling of free falling is very apparent. You try to breathe, squeezing yourself around Jungkook as you listen to the whooshing sound of his web shooters discharge and swing you between the tallest buildings in the city.

“You’re doing amazing.” Jungkook kisses your cheek, “just another minute.”

You keep your eyes squeezed shut until the curiosity becomes too overwhelming, making you dare to open your eyes just the slightest bit. You see the sun completely setting on the horizon, orange and purple hues slowly disappearing beneath the river. As long as you don’t think about how high up you are, it really is beautiful up here.

Jungkook shoots a web straight up into the air, letting it connect to the side of one of the tallest buildings, slowly pulling the two of you up until he’s reached the highest ledge, tapping your thighs so you know it’s safe to put your feet down.

“Why are we up here, Jungkook? You know the heights..” he kisses you before you can finish the sentence.

“Can we try something?” He smiles, and it’s infuriating. You’re too weak for this spidey boy. You sigh with exasperation.

“I’m already very wary of saying yes.” You look away from the ledge towards the top of the building.

“Let me make you feel good…up here.” His cheeks heat a little when he asks.

“Is this some kind of weird adrenaline thing? Why would you want that?” Your voice cracks and you sputter, disbelief heavy in your tone.

“I think it’ll be intense…feel so good.” His lips move down and his teeth nip at your jaw.

“It’s insane…” you melt into his touch and the way his mouth sucks at your neck.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll take you home. And I’ll get you naked in your bed instead.” He pulls your shirt over your head, fully knowing you’re about to give in.

“Bed sounds so good right now…”

“Please, Data…just try it.” He tosses your shirt to the side, cupping your breasts and kissing the tops of them.

“What do I have to do?” You feel too good to let the fear ruin the way he’s making you feel.

“Lie back on the ledge, with your arms above your head and your wrists crossed.”

You let him lead you down onto the ledge, every nerve in your body is hot and on the edge. Jungkook makes sure that you’re settled before he stands back up straight, looking down at you while you slowly move your arms above your head the way he asked.

“You’re perfect, Data.” Jungkook stares at you a moment longer before he aims his web shooter and traps your wrists together against the concrete ledge beneath you.

[brawltogethernow]

That reminds me. As a Spidey fan what's your opinion of the newspaper comic.

We as a society don't deserve the glory of the Spider-Man newspaper comic.

The post about creative teams reminding you is perfect really because a thing people overlook memeing on the newspaper comic is this was Lee/Romita! For a respectable chunk of years! Possibly their newspaper strip run accumulated to a more one on one collaboration than their iconic ASM run had? I don't feel like fact checking that; don't quote me on that.

I could call that era 616-lite, but honestly, in many ways it's more like concentrated essence of 616. It's like the essential oil of 616. Including how you should exercise caution before applying it directly to your skin.

It's really just fascinating to watch how their styles kept evolving after the main comic transferred to other hands. Romita Sr.'s later inking is just, unf, and it's really a privilege to get to see it in black and white because of the format. And even after he dipped Stan Lee remained insane in the newsprint arena for, even accounting for decades of ghostwriting, way longer than he ever wrote ASM itself. It's bizarre that the newspaper strip exists.

But it does! And it contributes to my understanding of the mainline characterization in a way other adaptations simply cannot (largely in ways that are charmingly stupid). Like I'm not going to tell the guy who made these characters up that they would not fucking say that, and more importantly I don't want to. Harry and Flash did not open a disco together in 616. But they WOULD HAVE, had shit ever stopped happening for five minutes.

[pearlsinmyhair]

(gn!reader) - lovely, billie ellish ft. khalid

part ii is here!

✰thinking about hobie brown walking in on his s/o singing…

it was a hard day, and hobie could distinctly feel a headache coming on as he swung to your window. he undid the little lock that he had insisted you put on it, ducking into your room quietly.

you weren’t in there, so he unlaced his boots and set out to find you. he padded through your flat sneakily, using his spidey-sense to detect where you were. a soft voice reached his ears, and he smiled as he stepped around a corner to the kitchen.

and there you were, leaned against a counter, pretty eyes closed as you sung. you were facing away from him, not yet noticing his presence.

he recognizes the song, the gentle melody flowing from your lips like a siren’s call as it pulls him towards you. lovely, he remembers, recalling how he had poked at you for listening to mainstream music.

you had tried to convince him that it was good, and that he would be perfect singing the male part. he had scoffed, but in secret he listened to it, memorizing the lyrics and the tone.

he wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, and he feels you stiffen. but when he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, your muscles relax. he holds you, listening as you continue singing.

he had always insisted that you had the voice of an angel. songbird, he called you occasionally, loving how you got flustered by it. you never seemed to quite believe him, but he promised that if you were in his band, you’d have a whole group of worshippers coming to see you.

he waits for the chorus to come up before vocalizing with you.

oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here

even if it takes all night or a hundred years

need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

wanna feel alive, outside I can't fight my fear

he keeps his voice low, matching your volume as you harmonize. his fingers trace your stomach through your shirt before dipping below the fabric to trace your skin.

the combination of the cold metal of his rings against your belly and his breath against your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and he nuzzles closer in response.

you finish the song together, and he presses a kiss to the skin below your ear. “missed you” he mumbles, breathing the scent of you in.

you turn in his grasp, placing your hands on his cheeks to pull him down to you. “missed you too.” you murmur against his lips as you press a kiss to his mouth.

hello, welcome home…

this is my first thing i’ve written for hobie! this scenario has been going on in my head for awhile, so i had to write it.

[firewalkzwit]

arabella // hobie brown x reader (one-shot)

oneshot of hobie trying to pursue a reader who's effortlessly cool and has strong arabella vibes cuz i love that vibe. inspired some on slc punk and sex pistols lore, cool fic for the music enthusiasts

New girl's hip New girl's cool New girl's interesting New girl's hot.

"She came straight out of 70's New L.A. She's no rockstar's girlfriend, she's a rockstar herself! Crazy hair, mysterious bassist, she's from outer space."

AO3

And when she needs to shelter from reality she takes a dip in my daydreams...

"Ay, who's the new girl?" Was the first thing Hobie asked as he nudged Pav's shoulder, not breaking his intense stare at the new recruit. 

"New girl? Oh that's YN." Pav shifted his narrowed eyes into Hobie's, a teasing grin drawing on his face.

"Yea' but what's her full name...?"

"Go ask her yourself man, everyone calls her YN." Hobie never got her name, she refused to be called anything but those particular initials.

To say she was pretty was an understatement. She was stunning, show-stopping, alluring. 

At least to Hobie, all adjectives were perfectly applicable.

She had this quirk, this confidence and these slight Chrissie Hynde vibes, boldness when she spoke that made her so attractive, and to top it she was a great musician. 

Back in her dimension it was the seventies, and she was the leader of a girl band where she played the bass, doing small gigs in downtown New L.A.

She wore flamboyant black cowboy boots and scandalous skirts, with chunky sunglasses that looked like the eyes of a bug. She had crazy hair and wore Vivienne Westwood's accessories on her pierced ears and fingers before it was even cool in the US. Her dark tights were always ripped but she didn't care, she called it a fashion statement. So did she call her Spidey suit, which had a unique design that caught anyone's attention. 

Love was for posers Hobie thought, but what's more punk than going against your own structures?

"Gwendy I gotta' talk to this girl more." Hobie's frustration was something Gwen wasn't used to seeing. His nature was often relaxed, only energic when invited to disrupt the order, but hardly ever frustrated.

"Well, you don't have to." Gwen shrugged as she tried to mask the frown that was forming in her face, but her wrinkled nose gave away her displease of jealousy.

"I know, but I want to." His attention was fixed on YN, how she moved and talked. "I wanna hear her play. You're a girl right? When you girls think a lad's fit, how much of that comes from his coolness?" He asked as he leaned on Gwen's side, resting his body weight on her. She scoffed in disbelief at the absurdity of his question, something only a man could ask. 

"Since when do you want to conform to the arbitrary standards of women?"

"I don't, I just wanna' know how many I can get away with breaking and she can still like me yea'?" Hobie chuckled before getting up again. "Don't get too jealous on me alright?" He joked, patting his friend's shoulder as he jumped down from where they were sitting, approaching her once again.

"He's never gonna give up is he?" Miles sat once again close beside Gwen, who sighed at the sight of Hobie attempting to come off as nonchalant with a girl who only seemed to curve his insinuations over and over. 

"That's such a man thing to do, no offense." Gwen spat as her hand slid down her face, pointing at what she could only describe as a humilliation show.

"Yeah... right." 

It's not that she didn't notice, she just dodged him. She thought there was more important things to do than let herself be conquered by some co-worker. But she was lying if she said he wasn't winning her over.

He also was so her type.

The funky hair, the spikes on his leather vest, the stickers and carvings on his guitar, his Iggy Pop vibes and his weird slang. But he thought he was so it, he was a nice guy but he needed some humbling. Their first conversation was about Bowie, and he played her a bit of Moonage Daydream as she recalled when she saw him live, getting all starry eyed whenever she'd narrate the part where she gave him a ride in her car.

"You gave Bowie a ride?"

"Spider's Tour, yeah..." She giggled, flipping her hair in a way that had him starstruck. "In my mom's car."

"In your mum's car? Oh get out." She went on to talk about how that changed her view on music, going on about her gigs in New L.A and how she moved there to make it big. 

Hobie was sure he was listening, but as much as he tried to contain himself, keeping in comments was not in his book.

"You always dress this mad? Like, all the time?" He bursted out with a smile, cutting her off. They were sitting on a counter table, with his guitar on his lap. He leaned closer to pick on the fabric of her coat. 

"Always. Do you always dress so pretentious?" She retorted with a smug grin, pushing her hair out of her face. His eyes shot up to look at her, puzzled. "I mean, aren't you like... rebelling against society?" Hobie let out a slight laugh, his head tilting in interest as he looked into her eyes. 

"Well, yea'. Why?"

"Don't you think it would be more of an act of rebellion if you didn't spend so much time buying stickers and pins and going out to get punky clothes? Stop me if I'm being offensive, I think the style's hip, but it just seems counterproductive to your cause."

"Na' its cool, keep going." He struggled to discern if he was actually listening, or simply invested in watching her mouth smart words as her long painted nails tapped on the counter.

"You want to be an individual, but it's like you wear a uniform. It's just punk fashion, not rebellion." Hobie's eyes fixated on her's, leaving a strong silence as she ended her phrase. 

"I'm not judging you, just kind of a general critique to what they call punk movement."

Hobie brushed her off with his usual humorous comments to maintain his pride, but he was dazzled. Even if she had criticized his way of thinking and how he dressed, she was so outspoken, without caring what he had to say or thought about her opinion, and he was crazy for his first impression of her, as much as he hated to admit it as he'd call 'Love is for posers'. Hobie was sure he was just trying to win her over, to prove a point he'd say, but deep down he loved the way she smiled and shook her head whimsically everytime he'd say something or take time off his schedule to nag her.

It was a few times that she gave Hobie the chance to play with her, to which she soon learnt that he did not know how to read tabs. Of course the punk kid is self-taught. Trying to lead, they would play messy numbers and solos. It was ocasionally just her and Gwen, who had let YN grown onto her sharing her love for girl bands, doing some jamming with their instruments as Hobie payed vague attention. But he would pound on any chance to be alone with her and try to take her out.

She didn't know what was in her that day, but she let him take her out.

He toured her around his universe, before taking her to what he called "his palace". 

The small canal boat was ridiculously a very Hobie place to live. If she were to guess, she'd think he lived in a tree somewhere in Birmingham. However it had it's charm, it was very humid and it wobbled when they walked, but it was unique and she loved it. Hobie showed her the collection of things he had stolen, proving himself to be a brilliant thief. He owed most of his 'talent' to his Spider-Sense and speed, but he'd never bring it up. 

As she sat on the mattress where he slept in, Hobie picked up one of his records, sitting beside her to show her the signed insides of the vinyl. Her eyes paced from the inscriptions to his face, as he ocasionally caught a glimpse of her through the corner of his eye. He left the vinyl aside to go on about his encounters with the infuential musicians on the area, how he attempted to steal the microphone the Bowie of his dimension had used when he was touring in his city. Her gaze shifting from his eyes to his lips back and forth. 

He was hesitant about making a move, afraid he'd mess up what had taken him so much work. But wasn't even given time to think it through before the proximity between them grew, and her hand softly caressed his bony cheek and down to his neck, inviting him to lean into a kiss. As they made out, his cold piercing was quickly warmed by her damp tongue and soft lips that sucked and kissed his. His hands caressed up and down her waist, undoing the buttons on her blouse with his slender fingers as she revealed her naked torso, no bra underneath. YN did her usual hair flip to watch him undress her, and himself, jumping on her once finished to continue what he had briefly interrupted.

"We won't sink, will we?" She asked between soft giggles as the boat quivered at his abrupt movement, Hobie nibbling down her neck and kissing her chest. 

"I wank pretty crazy here every night, we won't." He teased before crawling backwards, kissing down her navel. 

songs i listened to while working on this:

(ofc) arabella - arctic monkeys

moonage daydream, lady grinning soul and starman - bowie

hey, velouria - pixies

rhiannon, gold dust woman - fleetwood mac

[callmeoncette]

Hobie s chubby reader

I can just imagine him going crazy for someone with a fuss

Thickums

Hobie x black!chubby!reader

There’s some implied sex but like there’s no actual smut

I love a good chubby reader idc idc!!!! And I love the arach-kids and imma always love them!!! Those are my nieces and nephews fr y’all I just got cut out the movie😔

You stood next to your boyfriend and your honorary nephews and nieces as you got chewed out about something during a mission. You couldn’t care less about whatever Miguel was shouting about. You were burning up and your Spidey suit only made it feel worse. Like a wearable sauna.

Your mask was off and you started to fan yourself with your hand sighing loudly. Miguel cut his eyes at you making you return the attitude. He relented and pinched the bridge of his nose knowing he didn’t have the energy to argue with you, “dismissed…” he grumbled walking off as Lyla popped up to tell him something.

“Thank the lord! He see me sitting here burnin’ up and just keep talkin’ bout absolutely nothin’ like…” you tapped away on your watch. When the portal opened you turned to the others, “hey y’all wanna go swimming? My apartment complex has a pool but like nobody be out there cuz it’s full of old people.”

Margo, in person instead of her hologram, agreed quickly, “I love me a good pool, girl!” She said pressing buttons on her watch. The others also agreed excitedly. “I haven’t been swimming since I went with Gayatri.” He said in a love sick tone. Miles quirked a brow, “why’d you say that like it was forever ago it was just last week?”

You laughed, “just get changed and head to my dimension!” You say starting to step through.

Once through you quickly started pulling off your suit revealing your plush, chubby body. You let out a sigh of relief as you bend down to get the suit.

“Enjoying the show Bee?” You pop back up and turn to see him sprawled out on your bed. His eyes low as they study you with a familiar glint in them, “very much so.” His tongue running over his lip ring. You smirk and go to your drawer pulling out your swimsuit. You make your way to the bathroom and hear your bed quietly creak. Once inside you turn around and smirk up at the tall dark skin male leaning against the doorframe.

“Is there somethin’ you need sir?” Your arms crossed. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him. His head dipped and his lips brushed over yours as they traveled to your neck where he peppered kisses. He then went and kissed your jaw and then your cheek before eventually moving back to your lips. He pulled back his thumb pulling at your bottom lip as you looked up at him with excitement shining in your eyes. His hand gently went around your throat to hold you in place, “gimme lips, yeah?” he pressed your lips together. Your giggles and mewls bouncing off the wall as he closed the door.

———

You and Hobie had a certain glow after your shower. Both of you smiling without actually smiling.

You were dressed in a white bikini when Margo and Gwen came through bickering. Margo wore a violet and teal one piece with a cut out on the stomach. Gwen wore black and white swim shorts with a teal top.

“[name] doesn’t she look like a girl kisser? She keeps tryna deny it!”

“I never said I wasn’t a girl kisser I just said you kiss girls too!”

You snorted at them and went to record a few videos of yourself in the mirror looking good.

The boys came at the same time with Miles gracefully tripping as he came in when he saw Margo and Gwen who giggle. His red swim trunks had small anchors on them that were black and gold. Pavitr was very smooth with his entrance as he flipped hair and showed off his blue and gold trunks, “you guys like? They match with Gayatri.” His smile practically blinding.

“You two have matching swimsuits?” Gwen asked with a quirked brow.

His expression fell, “well no. She said it was too cheesy, even for her…” he then perked up, “but I bought them and that counts for something!”

You pouted at ‘your’ kids, “awww so sweet Pav! Now come along children. Come get in your favorite parent’s video so I’ll have memories!” You say opening Snapchat and starting to record you all in the mirror. As soon as you started you noticed your pudge stuck out a bit more than usual, “hmmm my fupa really fupa-ing today.”

Just then Hobie strolled into the room dress in patriotic trunks he stole and made his own with tears and safety pins here and there. He got in the video and looked in your reflection in the mirror. He licked at his lip ring and shrugged.

“Good pum pum deserve shelter.”

You could hear a pin drop as everyone stood frozen, except for the punk who went about getting a towel. The video then stopped recording and continued to replay what he said, taking up the silence.

Everyone stared wide eyed. You broke the silence first.

“Hello???”

He looked at you and shrugged, “did I lie?”

You sputtered and Pav started laughing in the back.

“Honestly you’re lucky I didn’ say tha first thing I thought.”

[minisugakoobies]

❤️lee know from skz

Anon, I'm gonna be honest and admit that I'm having trouble distinguishing between the red hearts for some reason so guess what - you're getting a double!

♥️ [ Spiderman ] - Spiderman kiss

❤️ [ Tango dip ] - Kiss being shared while one partner is dipped backward

*****

Now that you're looking back on it, the evening had really been too perfect. Minho had looked so handsome in his tux, your boyfriend had impressed your family, especially your parents, with how polite and smart he was, and he'd even surprised you by dancing so well with you on the dance floor, smoothly dipping you at one point into a quick but soft kiss that left you swooning.

So of course right now his Spidey sense would tingle, smack dab in the middle of your cousin's wedding reception.

You groan, following him out of the reception center into the alley, heading towards the street. He hands you his clothing as he commands the nanotech in his suit to cover him.

"I'm sorry, I know, I just need to check it out and then I'll be back. Something could be wrong!" He cups your face. "I don't want you to get hurt."

"Ah, come on, that's not playing fair," you protest, but you're not really arguing with him. You're not going to try to stop him. You know this is who he is - someone who protects others. Because he can.

You wouldn't have him any other way.

"Just - good luck. Or whatever." You push him away with one hand, cradling his tux with the other.

Minho launches himself into the air. He lands upside-down on the awning of the building next door, an old movie theater. The lights of the marquee shimmer in your eyes as he pulls at his mask, revealing his mouth, and leans his head back.

"Almost forgot," he says. "C'mere."

You know what he wants. His mouth fits against yours, pulls a sigh from your lips that he devours with a hum.

"Love you," he whispers, and you repeat the words as he crawls off into the night.

*****

Send me an emoji and I'll write a fic for a kiss