#thinking: peter parker ₊˚⊹ ♡ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonstruckme · 6 months ago

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A Friendly Proposition

Based on this request: Hi mae!!! Would you be open to writing tasm!peter parker or Remus lupin with best friend reader who hasn’t cum before, and he is outraged when he hears this? And he’s like, why don’t I show you (wink wink) -- Thank you for requesting!! I chose Remus for this but I would love to do some Peter smut in the future if anyone has any ideas :)

cw: smut mdni, fingering, not necessarily inexperienced reader but kind of has that vibe, basically smut no plot

bestfriend!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

“I dunno, I guess overall it was fine.”

“Fine?” Remus looks up from where he’s lying on his bed, one eyebrow lifted in that way you don’t think he knows he does. You’re sitting on the floor in front of his mirror, attempting to cover up a particularly bad hickey your date from last night had left you as a parting gift. His reflection has a wry twist to its mouth. “I should hope it was more than just fine.”

You shrug, tilting your head to dab at the makeup on your neck. “Not the best, not horrible. I’d call it thoroughly average.”

Your friend hisses sympathetically through his teeth. “Not the sort of rave review most guys strive for. If I left someone with a mark like that, I’d hope I made it worth their while.”

You can’t keep your lips from curving. “I didn’t say it wasn’t worthwhile.”

“Did he at least make you cum?”

You cough in surprise. “At least?” You turn around, giving him a disbelieving look.

Remus’ answering expression is equally incredulous.

“How common do you think that is?” you ask him.

The eyebrow lifts higher. “Well, now I’m not sure, but I’ve never had any problems.”

You scoff, turning back to the mirror. “That’s because you’re a guy.”

“No,” Remus says, amusement tingling in his tone. “I mean, yes, but I meant I’ve never had any problems making other people cum.”

“Seriously?” You freeze with your hand upheld awkwardly above your neck. You’re doing your best to make this conversation feel casual, but sometimes having an attractive guy for a best friend can get confusing, and the room is starting to feel a tad warm despite the open windows. “Like, what’s your success rate?”

“What’s yours?”

“I asked you first.”

Remus’ lips twitch, fondness beneath his exasperation. “For women specifically?”

“Sure.”

He nods, expression turning pensive. “I can’t be exactly sure. I mean, it’s not like I’m constantly fucking loads of women.” He says it so offhandedly, but just the language makes a tickle of warmth start up in your cheeks. “There were a couple who didn’t, when I was younger, still learning, but since then it’s been fairly high.”

You swallow. You wonder what the learning had entailed, what Remus had picked up that you and anyone you’ve hooked up with hasn’t. It’s typically not for a lack of trying, though some certainly invest more time into the ambition than others. You can’t say you’ve even tried that hard yourself, not in a while and not since you’ve reckoned with the idea that it may simply not happen for you. It feels like a pointless exercise.

You break from your reverie when you notice Remus watching you in the mirror.

“Your turn,” he prompts.

“You can’t make fun of me.”

“You know I wouldn’t.”

You absolutely do not know that, he loves to tease, but he’s right in that you don’t think he would about this. You catch yourself nibbling on your bottom lip, and stop.

You do your best to affect his unflappable blasé when you say, “Zero, so far.”

That blasé hardly holds up now. Remus sits straight up. “Never? Not once?”

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, so you focus on covering the spot on your neck. “Nope.”

“Not even by yourself?”

“You make it sound like it’s so easy.” There’s some bitterness in your tone as you tilt your head up, inspecting your work in the light. “I haven’t tried in a while, because I was never able to. I got sick of it.”

“Oh, sweetheart.”

You try not to melt. Remus will call you that, from time to time, but given the context of your conversation you wish he wouldn’t. Suddenly his room feels a little bit smaller, the atmosphere more private than before.

You look at his reflection, expecting to find teasing in his expression, but it’s thoughtful. Contemplative.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun,” you remind him. “I feel like that should also include feelings of pity. Let’s not act like it’s some great tragedy to not have cum before.”

“No, I’m…it’s not that. You’re right, there are worse fates.” One corner of his lips curves slightly, and you mirror him, relieved. “I was just thinking that I could…well, I might be able to help.”

“What?” A little laugh trips off your tongue. Your face is really feeling warm now. “Do you have some kind of manual or something?”

“Would you want my help?”

“Is there a diagram you’re going to show me? Trust me, I’ve seen those.”

“Answer the question, love.”

You set your makeup down, expelling a breath. Meet his eyes in the mirror with a shrug. “Yeah. Sure, I’d be curious.”

Remus studies you. Analytical hazel eyes and a map of scars you would know blind. “Tell me if this makes you uncomfortable, but I could show you, if you’d like.”

Your breath seems to stall in your lungs. “On…” you trail off, not wanting to misunderstand him.

“On you,” he confirms. “Would you want that?”

You’re nodding before you can think enough to speak. Your head feels slow and fuzzy, like you’re navigating a dream. “Yeah,” you manage. “If you’re alright with that.”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Remus spreads his legs open on the bed, patting the space between them. “C’mere, love.”

“What—like, now?”

“Do you have another engagement?” He gives you a little smile. It squishes the scar underneath his left eye adorably, but when you hesitate he sobers. “Hey, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

You shake your head, and it’s like your body remembers how to move, propelling you up from your seated position. “No, sorry, I’m good with this. I think I’m just a bit nervous.”

“That’s alright,” he reassures you. “You don’t need to be, though. It’s only me.”

You see his eyes drop to your mouth, and you let your lip slip from between your teeth a second time. Remus is right. If there’s anyone you should be comfortable learning this with, it’s him.

When you go to crawl up on the bed, he stops you. “Probably want to lose the pants first,” he suggests.

Right. You set your fingers to the button, and it seems to fly open of its own regard. You feel Remus’ eyes on you as you slide them over your hips and step out.

“Underwear too, or…”

“No, we’ll keep those for now.” Remus holds a hand out for you, and you get up onto the bed, letting him help you settle in between his legs. It’s impossible not to be conscious of the feel of his pants against your bare skin, or how comfortably he wraps a hand around your thigh, pulling it open that much wider. “Do you usually start with everything off?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Isn’t that sort of the point?”

“Sometimes,” he hums. “Sometimes, though, it helps to work up to it. You need to get warmed up, you know?”

You murmur an affirmation, though you don’t actually know. There’s never been much warming up when you or anyone else has tried to do this before. But it doesn’t matter, because then Remus starts rubbing the outsides of your thighs with both hands, and any sound dies in your throat.

“You have to start slow,” he says in a low voice. Scarred, strong hands moving over your skin. “Everyone responds to different things, and it’s about feeling out what works for you.”

You can’t imagine how this wouldn’t work for anyone. Remus touch starts moving inward, until his long fingers are dragging over your inner thighs, fuelling a familiar warmth at their apex.

“Are you feeling more relaxed now?”

You wet your lips. “I think so.”

“Good. If you’re feeling up to it, you could try touching yourself other places, see what works.”

Tentatively, you slip one of your hands up your shirt. Your breasts feel more sensitive than usual, and when you squeeze one, combined with Remus’ hands on your thighs, it makes your breath catch.

“There you go, sweetheart. You’ve got it.”

Your body starts to slacken against him, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. He only uses his grip on your thighs to drag you closer, propping you up. You can’t tell which one of you is warmer.

Without warning, his hand brushes over your mound. You gasp.

“Is this okay?” Remus asks, his voice closer to your ear than it had been. He gives you another stroke over your panties.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Alright. Tell me if I do anything you don’t like.”

One hand continues moving over your thigh while the other drags the fabric of your panties aside, flattening over your cunt.

“Oh, poor girl,” he coos. “Is all this for me?”

Your silence must scream mortification, because he chuckles and bumps the side of your head with his affectionately.

“Sorry, I’m only messing with you. Is it always like this?”

You lie. “Yeah.”

Remus hums, dragging two fingers through your folds. You squirm in his lap. Your hand has completely forgotten your breast.

“I usually start here,” he says, one finger circling your clit. It slips and slides in the mess you’ve already made. “You do the same?”

You nod fervently. He adds another finger, moving over it gently, and has to tighten his grip on your leg to keep it open. Your breaths start coming faster as he repeats the motion. You can feel him getting hard behind you.

Just as your pleasure starts to take you under, Remus’ fingers fall away.

“Your turn,” he says. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

When you hesitate, confused and a bit bereaved, he chuckles, taking your hand in his and pressing your fingers to your clit.

“Show me how you’re gonna do it, sweetheart.”

Tentatively, you try to copy his movements. Your own fingers feel clumsy and inadequate compared to his, but after all the work Remus has put in they’re still enough. You chase that tightening sensation, hips twitching into your own touch.

Remus doesn’t leave you on your own for long. His hand finds your cunt again, seeking, it seems, every possible way to drive you to madness. He collects the slick pooling by your entrance, sliding it up and down through your folds, and when his fingers breach your hole you make a soft, surprised sound that sends his lips down onto your shoulder.

Instantly, you’re aware of how much better this feels. Remus’ mouth is warm and soft, a contrast against the roughness of his stubble. He sucks at you gently, warming you up like he had your cunt, before letting his teeth scrape lightly over your skin. Your date from last night had been so eager to get your neck into his mouth, suctioning onto you like a parasite and rolling your skin between his teeth in a way that hurt more than it helped. Remus is all temperance. He bites you, and then licks it over to make sure you’re soothed.

The thought occurs to you that maybe you shouldn’t be comparing Remus to someone you actually dated.

He curls his fingers inside you, and every thought you’ve ever had falls away. All you are is a collection of sensations and wants.

“You’ve got it, darling, keep going. You’re doing so well.”

Your fingers and Remus’ working like one mind, until your thighs are shivering and he has to redouble his efforts to keep you still. Your head lolling onto his shoulder, the way his lips transfer to your neck as if it's the most natural thing in the world. His scruff scratching under your jaw, moving as he says your name.

The myriad of other things he says, sweetheart, baby, good girl, you’re doing so good, growing raspier as the pressure in your core worsens until you worry you’ll shatter if he doesn’t keep ahold of you.

“Let go,” he instructs, kissing the skin beneath your ear lovingly. “You’re alright, just let go.”

You choose to trust him, and your body—your being—snaps.

You make sounds you can’t hear, your own fingers stuttering and stopping while Remus works you through the new sensation, murmuring assurances into your skin. Runs his free hand over your trembling thigh.

Eventually, your mind quiets enough to hear that his breathing is nearly as labored as your own. He slips his fingers out of you. You try to turn around to face him, but your body betrays you, slumping against his front.

Remus chuckles, smoothing a hand up your side. “Good job, sweetheart. You did beautifully.” He smears a kiss over your cheek. “How was that?”

You sigh blissfully. Your brain feels pulverized. “Really good.”

Another soft laugh. “Yeah? Glad to hear it.”

“Thank you.” You lean your head on his shoulder, trying to look up at him.

“You’re welcome,” he replies, voice warm with amusement. “Honestly, I should probably be thanking you. I feel quite lucky.”

You hum bemusedly. Remus’ sex-slicked fingers run lazily over the inside of your thigh. Perhaps your mind is still addled from your orgasm, but this feels incredibly normal to you now.

“Really? Why?”

“I just,” he exhales, leaning his head against yours lightly. “I just can’t believe I was the first person to hear you make those sounds.”

“Oh.” You feel the tickle of embarrassment coming back to you. It draws your shoulders in. “Sorry. Was I very loud?”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart.” Remus turns his head, kissing your temple firmly. “You were perfect.”

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elixirfromthestars · 4 months ago

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Kiss It All Better

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader (established relationship)

Summary: Your boyfriend Peter hasn't contacted you in days, but one stormy night in a dark alley would change that.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warning(s): none really / fluff / sprinkles of angst / if you squint you could maybe see some hurt + comfort

requested by anonymous

a/n: Another bingo request down!! I promise I am doing my best to get through these. As always I appreciate everyone's patience and support!! ❤️ Thank you for reading!! Feedback is always appreciated!! ❤️❤️

birthday bingo masterlist ♡ // main masterlist ♡

A flash of white light illuminates the narrow alleyway you are walking through. A loud rumble follows, practically shaking the concrete beneath your feet. The storm would start any second now and you would most likely get caught in it if you didn’t make it home soon. Your pace quickens as you begin to make haste.

Getting caught in the rain would only worsen your mood.

Your footsteps echo and bounce off the alley walls. The wet concrete smell mingles with something sour making your nose scrunch up. You hold the strap of your bag tight against your chest, a small comfort in the night. The dark clouds in the sky hide the moon from your view, causing only a few street lights to vaguely cascade their glow onto your path. The shadows cling to the brick walls around you making your surroundings more ominous than they really were.

This was a bad idea. You know this—anyone would know this—it was common sense. You shouldn’t be walking down a New York alleyway alone at midnight. However, you had little to no choice with no cabs in sight and no rideshare vehicles available. You’d have to make the journey on foot if you wanted to make it home before the storm worsened.

Your apartment was only a few blocks away from your job, and you already had an established route you took back and forth. It was a longer route—more scenic—and on nicer days you enjoyed strolling along it accompanied by your favorite tunes. However, on nights like this when the sky decides to descend a tempest upon the earth—you prefer to take a risk with this shortcut.

A few droplets falling on your head turn into streaks and then a pour—catching you off guard. You didn’t think the ferocity of the water would pick up so quickly. You hurried over to take refuge underneath the slight coverage of the fire escapes lining the brick wall to your right. The cold metal frame above did little to shield you as droplets fell from it onto your head. Nevertheless, this would have to do until you could determine your next move.

You could run the rest of the way home and hope you didn’t slip in the rain—or you could give the rain a few minutes to die down and then run—the idea of waiting brought an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You dreaded having to be out here longer than you needed to be.

Would it really be safer to run though?

As much as you didn’t want to wait you decided it would be better than falling face-first into a grimy puddle. You shifted on your feet, the soles of your shoes squeaking against the pavement, your body shivering as the water soaked through your thin jacket. Each second seemingly stretches out endlessly as you watch the rain crash and splatter against the ground.

You took out your phone to check the weather app. Your hand resting perpendicular to your forehead as a makeshift shield to protect your phone from the rain. Droplets still fell on your phone anyway and with the way the water clung to your hair and eyelashes—your vision was more than obstructed.

So much so that you didn’t notice when a shadow loomed over you.

“Hey beautiful,” a voice directly next to your left spoke, startling you. A gasp left your lips as fast as your heart sped up. You jump back from the source of the voice, creating as much distance as you can without slipping into the full force of the storm. You turn to see who it belongs to, your phone tightly gripped in your hand.

When your eyes met the white ones on the red mask, your body immediately relaxed from its frozen state. A breath of relief escaping you that sounded more like a choked laugh.

“Baby, I swear I didn’t mean to scare you!” Peter sounded apologetic while laughing all the same at your reaction. He was hanging upside down by a thick string of web when he lowered down to be at eye level with you. Small streams of water cascade down his superhero suit, pooling at your feet.

You scoff still a little shaken, “You thought sneaking up on me wasn’t going to scare me?” You put your phone back in the pocket of your jacket, hand on your hip as you try to follow your boyfriend’s logic.

You can’t see Peter’s face, but you know him well enough to know the awkward boyish grin he must be dawning under that mask. “Well…I didn’t think it would scare you that much…” his tone was sheepish and yet just as you assumed, you could see the outline of his smile through the mask.

You look at him shaking your head, playfully rolling your eyes. Whatever annoyance you felt melted away at his presence. Your heart now beating at its normal rhythm. However, his presence also reminded you of his absence this week. Peter hadn’t contacted you in days, and while you were doing your best to be understanding, it still hurt.

“Nice of you to drop by. Haven’t spoken to you in like,” you count the days on your hand to emphasize the number,“five days. Seems you forgot all about me,” you cross your arms, a resentful look overtaking your features.

Peter scratches the back of his neck, stumbling over his words. He almost loses balance, his left hand quickly returning to where it was before, holding onto the web with both hands. You frown, unsure as to why he needs both hands to keep steady. Worry overcomes you when the thought of him being in a fight before he caught you here crosses your mind.

“About that. . . I’m really sorry, Y/n. I promise I didn’t mean to disappear like that without warning. The city’s been hectic all week! Criminals are popping up left and right and I’ve been tracking down this mobster ring—it’s been too much to handle. I couldn’t keep up. And I–” he stops himself to get a good look at you, “I’ve missed you so much,” Peter finishes off his remorseful rambling with a sincere statement.

He has missed you. More than you’ll ever know. He’s barely eaten, slept, or cared for himself. Neglecting his own needs to make sure the city was safe. Because to him as long as the city was safe so were you—and that meant the world to him. Yet, in keeping his attention on the city he lost sight of where he wanted to be the most—with you.

The sentiment was mutual. While the city needed Spiderman, you needed Peter.

Even though he does his best to hide it, you pick up the tiredness in his voice. The way even upside down you can see how his shoulders sag, his overall posture droopy. You notice the way he slowly sways where he hangs, not making much effort to stay in place. You assume he’s done little to take care of himself these past few days. That combined with potentially getting into some sort of tussle moments before arriving—it’s no wonder he struggled earlier to keep his balance with one arm.

Your gaze softens, stepping closer to him, the rain long forgotten. “ I get it, Peter. I do. I’ve missed you too. You know I’ll never hold being Spiderman against you, but you need to talk to me. Keep me in the loop. Let me know you're okay. I was upset you hadn’t contacted me, but more than anything I was worried. I was afraid something had happened to you,” you say your voice laced with concern. In his absence, you constantly checked news channels to make sure no one had reported Spiderman getting severely injured or worse.

You avoided all week thinking about the worst-case scenarios.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. I promise never to do it again. I know I have to get better at communicating. I just don’t like worrying you. All week I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I was on my way to your place when I saw you here in the rain. You really shouldn’t be walking alone at this hour,” Peter’s tone goes from repentant to firm by the end. Hating the thought of you putting yourself in a risky situation.

You gave him a look as if to say now is not the time to be scolding me. He sighs, reluctantly conceding in hopes of bringing this conversation up at a later time. Right now he wants to do anything to make it up to you. Anything that could sweeten up his apology.

“I know I messed up, but I think I know something that could make this all better,” he says an idea popping into his head.

“What?”

“How about a kiss?”

You laugh softly at his suggestion, not being able to stay mad at him for long.“I think that could help. Although, I’ve never kissed someone while they were upside down before,” you mention with amusement. Tilting your head to look at him sideways. You wonder how he’s able to stay like that for so long without getting dizzy.

“Well now’s your chance, baby. I’ll need a little help with the mask though,” he says as you close the distance between you. You happily oblige his request, lowering the mask off of his face. A fond smile appears on your face when your eyes meet his brown ones. The warmth and color inviting you in like a hot cup of coffee—a solace you sought in the cold rain. They pull you in until your lips meet his, your hands holding his face gently.

You both melt into the kiss. Rain droplets joining in, but neither of you mind. In this moment it's solely you two and the feelings for one another catching up after days of longing. How either of you could have gone so long without this—without each other—neither of you knew.

Maybe five days isn’t long for others, but because Peter risks his life on a daily basis, every moment spent with him means the world to you.

You pull away to catch your breath, “I think that definitely helped,” you say softly. Peter beams at you, swinging his body so that in a swift motion he’s gone from his upside-down position to upright—standing before you. He reaches out and pulls you into a tight embrace. Holding you close and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I love you so much. I promise to fully make it up to you,” he says in a loving tone. You shake your head lightly, “Peter, having you here is enough. You really don’t have to–” he doesn’t let you finish. “Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. Let’s get you home and into some dry clothes. I’m staying with you tonight. I want to hold you all night and in the morning I’ll make you breakfast in bed,” he proposes in soft whispers as his forehead rests against yours.

“You know I can’t say no to that.”

“Good. I wasn’t going to take no for an answer anyway.”

Your laughter mixes with his own at his playful tone. He holds you more securely against him as he prepares to take you both back to your apartment. You weren’t keen on swinging across the sky like he was—especially in this weather—but knowing you would soon be cuddled under warm covers with him would make it all worth it.

You would weather any storm for him, as he would for you—always.

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker fic #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x y/n #tasm peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #the amazing spider man #peter parker #peter parker oneshot

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ptergwen · 17 days ago

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im not sure if you’ll see this😭 but can i have reader being like maddy from euphoria, confident, bad bitch, short skirts and she’s dating peter and they have this secret relationship cuz shes popular and hes not so they both go to a party and makes out in the restroom and comes out together and then flash is making fun of them and then she just kisses peter right in front of everyone (im so srry this is long but i hope u see this

out of sight, on his mind ‎♡‧₊˚

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: making out, suggestiveness, drinking, like one swear

a/n: oh i looooved this idea thank you very much for your service babes :D also don't forget to join my new taglist y'all i only got a couple of you so far & happy reading!

you down a shooter, gagging at the bitter taste of the alcohol. you giggle and stick the tiny bottle in your bra. you're dancing with a group of your friends. one of them takes your hand, the two of you moving to the beat of the music. peter watches you from across the room with the hint of a smile.

he wouldn't typically spend his friday night in the corner of a packed houseparty nursing a cup of jungle juice, but ned insisted they go. his best friend is determined they both up their social statuses this year. they're not too popular at midtown, with the exception of the academic decathlon team.

if people only knew peter was dating one of the most popular girls in school; you.

it was peter's idea to keep your relationship secret. you'd wanted to show him off, but he's too shy. you're always the center of attention, and peter parker doesn't do well with attention. he'd much rather admire you with everyone else in public and be yours in private.

"come on, peter! it's a party! shouldn't we be, like, dancing or something?"

"i don't know, ned. just... drink your juice."

ned takes a generous swig of his drink and cringes. peter chuckles, sipping from his cup.

"what's in jungle juice anyway?"

"um, everything i think. you might blackout if you have too much."

"dude, that's the goal."

you catch peter's eye again. you're holding your friend's arm that's wrapped around your shoulders, hips swaying. you shout along to the music with the rest of the girls in your group. you look so carefree, and so damn good.

the pink, strapless dress you're wearing is hugging your body in all the right places. your hair is styled to perfection, tiny gems dotted along your eyelids. your look is complete with a pair of knee high boots. peter loves your style. there's no way to describe it other than that it's you, who peter adores an insane amount. he wishes he could be as bold as you are.

peter's phone vibrates in his pocket; it's a text from you.

are u watching me?

before he even answers, you send another.

come to the bathroom

peter briefly locks eyes with you. you give him a mischievous smile before slipping away, making some excuse to your friends. he bites his lip to suppress his own grin.

"hey, ned? how about i go get us some refills?"

"bet! i’m gonna dance."

ned hands peter his cup and claps him on the shoulder, disappearing into the crowd. instead of refilling their drinks, peter makes his way to the bathroom. there's a few people waiting in line. knowing you, you've already claimed it from them. he knocks at the door. a hand reaches out and grabs at peter's flannel, pulling him inside.

"hi, baby."

your glossy lips capture peter's in a kiss. he instantly leans into it, but you pull back much to his dismay. his big brown eyes go even bigger.

"woah... hi."

you laugh softly.

"miss me?"

"seems like you missed me too."

"maybe."

you run a hand through peter's hair. his hands settle on your hips.

"sorry for watching you, couldn't help it. you look so pretty tonight."

"i always look pretty."

your tone is playful, but peter knows you mean it, and he couldn't agree more.

"whatcha been up to? you having fun?"

your manicured nails scratch lightly at peter's scalp. he practically purrs at the feeling.

"mm, just been hanging with ned. i don't really know anybody else."

"you know me."

"but you're with your friends."

"so?"

"so... you know i’m shy, princess."

you giggle.

"it's just 'cause you're not drunk enough, baby."

"oh yeah?"

peter's thumbs run up and down your sides, face only inches from yours. you retrieve the shooter from your bra. there's still at least half a shot left.

"open."

peter does as you say and opens his mouth. you take his chin between your fingers and tilt his head back, pouring the rest of the strong, sweet liquid down his throat. he swallows. you toss the bottle aside. peter gives you a look, one that says kiss me. you shake your head, smirking.

you want him to kiss you.

peter's lips smash into yours. his eagerness makes you giggle into the kiss. you grip the collar of his shirt in both hands, lips moving slowly against each other's. peter backs you against the door.

"did i already tell you how pretty you look?"

"mhm, but not enough."

"you're right. you're so pretty."

peter kisses down your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume. you guide his lips back up to yours.

"you are too, y'know."

you peck peter's lips softly, letting your lips linger over his after, eyes searching his. they twinkle. you mesmerize him, truly mesmerize him. you kiss an awe-struck peter properly this time. he holds your waist, head tilted to deepen the kiss.

your make out session is rudely interrupted by someone knocking on the door.

"yeah, one second!" you answer. "let's get out of here."

peter groans and buries his face in your neck.

"but i don't want to. wanna keep kissing you."

"not here, baby."

"why not?"

he leaves more kisses on your neck. you coax peter away, laughing, his arms still wrapped tight around you.

"the line. wanna find somewhere else?"

peter perks up at that.

"okay, let's go."

you lead peter out of the bathroom. he follows, hand in yours. even though no one seems to pay any mind to the fact that you were in the bathroom together, peter can't help but blush. he doesn't make it out unscathed, though; none other than flash thompson notices him.

"penis parker, is that you?"

you stop walking, eyeing flash over your shoulder. peter lets out an exasperated sigh.

"what's up, flash?"

"you are."

peter looks down to see an obvious bulge in his jeans. his cheeks burn hotter, hand leaving yours to readjust himself. a few people turn around to look.

"y/n's a big step up from your imaginary girlfriend. where'd you say she was from again, canada?"

you narrow your eyes at flash, a hand wrapping around peter's bicep.

"do you know him?"

"yeah, we're... friends. sort of. we do academic decathlon together."

your gaze shifts to peter.

"friends?"

"oh yeah, we go way back. any friend of parker's is a friend of mine."

flash smirks at you. you look him up and down, face scrunched in disgust.

"ew."

more people are starting to watch the exchange. you glare at flash, who holds your gaze knowingly. peter can tell you're about to go into protective girlfriend mode. he squeezes your hand that's on his arm.

"anyways, just wanted to congratulate you on your first baddie," flash tells him. "try not to fumble."

before peter can process what's happening, your lips are on his, hands cupping his cheeks to keep him in place. maybe it's just because he's tipsy, but peter actually finds himself having the courage to kiss you back in front of everyone. you smile at this. he holds you by your waist, letting himself enjoy the kiss for a while longer.

peter's lips are puffy and covered in your gloss when you two pull apart. he draws you in closer to himself, giving you one more short kiss, then another. the two of you earn whistles and chatter from everyone watching. you giggle, thumbs caressing peter's cheeks and gaze meeting his.

there's something in his eyes that you haven't seen before; confidence. he might be shy, but not when it comes to you. not anymore.

you look over at flash smugly, his mouth dropped open.

"he won't."

tags (join my new taglist!)

@spidermans-gf @sacharinee

#peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker writing #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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l13 · 2 years ago

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spiderverse twt links part 2

WARNINGS : NSFW, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI, f!reader, the links are literally p#rn, proceed at your own risk

CHARACTERS: miguel o'hara, peter b parker, hobie brown, the spot, spider noir, webslinger

miguel

♡ miguel playing with your pussy as he sucks on your tits- getting you ready to take his cock, like the good girl you are<3

♡ this is for that one anon that sent me a hc about miguel getting pissed af if he caught you using one of your toys- ((I SAW IT AND IT WAS AMAZING I'VE WROTE SMTH BUT IT'S BEEN ON MY DRAFTS FOR LIKE A WEEK i can't seem to like it no matter how much i edit it but have this<333)) Miguel who then proceeds to snatch the toy from your grasp, muttering how you can't even come even with that. "S good right? Better than me?" "Noo, never- never better than you- oh please baby-" "That's fucking right."

bonus

♡ miguel punishing you when you arrive home after you talking shit all day- purposefully disagreeing on anything he says- even in mission briefs. makes sure to fuck you stupid just to remind you not to pull that shit again<3 "Acting like such a fucking bitch all day- fuck. Just needed my cock that bad, huh? Say it,"

peter

♡ peter whimpering pathetically once he starts cumming- moaning when you don't stop jerking his cock, and he's thrashing around, hips never stopping their little jumps as he whines prettily "I can't anymore- h please ffuckkkk, I ca-aan't," voice cracking as he sobs for you

♡ pussydrunk!peter that starts fucking you like an absolute madman, literally not able to stop thrusting inside of you even after he's cum two times already, his eyes are hazy, can barely focus on anything but he still grabs you by the hair to pull you against him almost harshly, panting hard as he somehow keeps fucking his cock back inside your drenched pussy

♡ peter laying flush against your back, humping you, thrusting his cock inside you till he's crying with you- whimpering and moaning from the way your pretty pussy feels around his cock

hobie

♡ hobie definitely wakes you up in the middle of the night if he can't sleep- pulls your panties to the side and makes you ride him, watching with a hand behind his head as you bounce your ass on his cock- thrusting his hips up to meet the rolls of your hips as he sighs, "Fuck- think I'll be wakin' you up every God damn night, baby.." "Yeah do it- fuckin' make me cum-"

♡ hobie losing his FUCKING mind when he sees you hold your folds open for him- giving him the perfect view of his cock entering your pussy again and again-

♡ no bccc. NO BECAUSEEEEEEE. tell me why he'd do this. he'd def dry hump you till you're both moaning against each other's mouths before he'd fuck you, refusing to remove his underwear from before- saying he likes looking at them all stained with your juices as you bounce up and down his cock<3

spider noir

♡ tw!!!somno noir loving seeing you wear tights/stockings, and absolutely loses his mind when he sees you laying like that on the couch- skirt bundled up on the floor, you'd probably taken it off right before laying down, and fuck- it's so fucked up that he's doing this but he can't help himself as he takes his cock out, slapping it against your ass two-three times before he starts jerking it, slowly, "So pretty for me honey.. 'nd you don't even know it," "Fuck- sorry- I'm sorry- I can't stop, can't fuckin' stop-"

♡ noir letting you control the pace for once as he leans back, supporting his weight with his palms on the mattress as you bounce your ass on his cock vigorously- and he's grunting, muttering praises, until he gets greedy and grabs you by the hips to thrust inside you with a new-found passion, "Did so well for me, such a good girl- unh-" "I'll fuck you so well, don't you worry-" "Won't be able to fuckin' walk tomorrow, honey."

♡ feel like noir would be used to more 'old fashioned' shit so when he met you, he'd become 10x times more freaky- that includes cumming on your face 🤭 he'd be reluctant at first- "Why waste it? You're tellin' me you don't want it in your pussy, hm?" but then he actually does it one time and becomes OBSESSED, "God fucking- I'm gonna cum-" "Where d'you want it sweetie," "Yeah? Ffuck yes- gonna paint your pretty face with my cum-"

the spot

♡ we've established that spot is a certified pussy eater, even without a mouth he'd find a fucking way- he'd just push your cunt into his face hole, and lap at your pussy greedily- moaning as he did so

♡ tw!! pegging jonathon? OH MY GODDDDDDDD and he's moaning so good for you too<3

♡ spot unable to stop pushing his hips back into your hand as you finger one of his holes- the feeling bringing tears into his eyes as he cries out for you<33

♡ him nearly YELLING when he comes inside you- moaning loudly as he pumps you full of his cum<3

webslinger

♡ tw!! breeding kink "Legs up f'me darlin'.... just like that," thrusts into you relentlessly, head thrown back as he literally cannot handle how good your pussy feels around his cock, and he grunts as he pulls out, jerking his cock, his hand shaking, "Can't cum inside you huh, pretty? Can't get you pregnant- not yet-"

♡ him finally slipping and coming inside you- moaning with his eyes rolled back as he feels your cunt sucking him in- "Ah shit- m sorry darlin' I couldn't hold m'self back.."

♡ him pounding you from the back and then suddenly deciding that he wants to watch you ride him instead- (save a horse, ride a cowboy), absolutely looooves watching your face contort in pleasure, your tits bouncing as you guide yourself up and down his cock<3

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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you can’t put it in

kinktober, day thirty-one

a/n: happy hornyween halloween! to say goodbye to kinktober, I thought it was fitting to end in the same boat as we started in. enjoy sluts ♡ I love you all so so much ♡

warnings: stepbro!peter parker x reader, smut, stepcest, secret relationship, semipublic sex, bathroom sex, halloween party, pussyjob, dirty talk, corruption kink

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

You properly shouldn’t have had those last few drinks. Maybe if you hadn’t, then you wouldn’t have ended up in this position, on the bathroom counter at some Halloween party, with your stepbrother slotted between your wide-spread legs, length freed from his costume and teasing your weeping mess with the tip of it.

“You can’t put it in,” your form needily shivered as he tapped his weight against your puff, “promise me that you won’t put it in.”

Maybe if your costume hadn’t been so revealing and his hadn’t hugged his frame so perfectly, then you would have been able to stay away from one another, but something inside of you knew that even if you both wore potato sacks and didn’t indulge in a drop of anything, then you would have still ended up in this exact same predicament.

“Come on, princess,” Peter tugged down the neckline of your skimpy costume and played with your tits, “you didn’t have a problem with me fucking your throat sore.”

“That’s different and you know it,” you pouted, legs rubbing up against his sides as he continued to tease. Realising his grip on your boob with a playful tap, his hand then drifted down to aid his movements, pinching your petals around him as he fucked your folds, the tip rhythmically nudging against your buzzing clit.

“Just think about how good it will feel letting me stretch this little pussy all the way out.”

“Peter-”

Eyes glued to your cunt, he ignored your plea and smirked, “maybe you just need to learn a lesson about what happens when you run around being such a fucking tease all the time…”

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luveline · 2 years ago

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𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you and miguel have different definitions of the same word. he finally gives in to temptation —featuring a cranky but lovesick miguel and a flirty, head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This has to be your favourite song in the whole world.

You sit in the hall beside the entrance to Miguel's office (this week, you're thinking you might call it The Bedroom, on account of all the magic happening inside), headphones on, a bottle of lemonade beside you.

Today has the makings of a great day. You're at the Spider Society headquarters and not at home, for starters, and one of the Peter Parkers you'd made friends with in the med-wing saw you this morning and recognised you, which is brilliant because he looked super similar to every other Peter Parker you've met. He offered to help you fix your rinky-dink headphones, and now they're working again and loud enough to cover the sound of Spider Chatter, even with your enhanced senses.

What's more, Miguel has finally emerged from his dormitory, and he's walking toward you looking confused. That's a step up from unhappy.

He asks you something.

"What? I can't hear you."

He says something else. You shake your head, music too loud to catch even a hint of what he's saying, and Miguel eventually crouches down to push your headphones around your neck. He's surprisingly gentle.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Waiting for you, what did you think I was doing?"

"Why are you sitting on the ground?" He gestures backward to a red-lit control panel. "Chair right there."

"I think that's someone's desk."

"It's really not."

Miguel stands up and doesn't hesitate to grab your arms and help you up too. It means more to you than it should, because it's not necessary and a few months ago he wouldn't have bothered. Which isn't to imply that Miguel is a mean guy, Lyla says he used to be a loser (code for sweetheart), and you get flashes of it every now and then in chivalry and kind smiles.

He's not mean, he's cranky.

"Don't sit on the floor," he says. "Just– just go inside if I'm not here."

"Well, The Bedroom doesn't come when I call."

Miguel's lips part in confusion for a second. Lyla appears at his shoulder, and says, "She can't get the platform to come down without you, genius."

"Put her name on the command list," Miguel says.

Your eyes widen. Lyla flashes to his other side, closer to you, and smiles playfully. "Done."

"Stop sitting on the floor," Miguel says, turning around. He walks a few steps and pauses when he realises you're not following. "Are you coming with me?"

You jog to catch up with him. Music plays against your collar, a slinking, indie sound that makes Miguel wrinkle his nose. You turn it up a little bit and smile when he glares at you.

You enter the atrium that houses The Bedroom. Miguel hops up onto the platform because he's too tall to see sense while you struggle, but you're pleased when he takes your hand and pulls you up properly. All these familiar touches today, anyone might think Miguel liked you.

He definitely does.

You sit down in the spinning chair near what you've decided is your desk but certainly isn't, again pleased beyond words when you find your sketchbook from last time still there, cleaned away carefully, pencils in a pot and a brand new pencil sharpener by the side of it. It matches your spider suit. You look over your shoulder, your face lit up with thanks, and Miguel swiftly looks away from you.

"It's electric. Tell me when the battery's dead, I'll charge it."

"Thank you," you say, flipping your sketchbook open to the last entry.

You aren't Picasso, but most members of the Spider Society are somewhat artistically inclined, considering the suit-making rite of passage they must all endure —if you don't know how to sew before you start, you will by the end.

Or like Miguel, you could cheat and make the suit out of nanotechnology.

You haven't really been designing any suits lately. Spidering is tiring, you need to relax, and your reluctant friends are the easiest subjects, though Miguel's face is painstakingly difficult to get right. He's very angular, high cheekbones with that divot that needs kissing stat, and his nose… He's really pretty, but you almost wish he wasn't so your sketches of him held a better likeness.

He's the only one of the regular crew that stands still long enough to be drawn. Jessica doesn't like you (or maybe she does, it's hard to tell, but she hasn't forgiven you for asking if her baby was like a maraca bead when she fights) so she doesn't let you draw her. Lyla will stand very still if you request it, but after a few portraits she got bored and started changing her hair or glasses, and after a few more she gave up. Margo is hard to focus on because her blue light makes everything else seem super orange, though she does stand in one place usually. She takes up a lot of pages, but it's Miguel you've drawn most of all.

You go around the Spider Society sometimes asking people if they'll sit for you, but again your skills aren't impressive, so it's awkward when they want to see how you've done. There are drawings of all kinds of Spiders, including yourself, between Miguel, and Miguel, and Miguel.

His back, the side of his face, his hands ungloved. His pointy bottom teeth mid fight. The naked stretch of his arm and his Rapture injector positioned over it. He might not appreciate that one. You rip it out and toss it in the waste paper basket under your desk, where it incinerates, paper smoke curling up toward the extractor fan on the atrium ceiling.

"What are you doing?" he asks without looking at you, his gaze on one of his marigold coloured monitors.

"Drawing." You're not drawing so much as sitting there with a coloured pencil in hand, trying to think of conversation starters. "What are you upto?"

"According to the program, there are no Canon events today at risk of disruption," Lyla chimes in, "so Miguel's doing chores."

"What, not one bad thing is gonna happen today?" you ask.

"Nothing we can predict," Miguel says.

You swap your pencil for your drink, unscrewing the lid of your lemonade to sip at it leisurely. Today is your favourite kind of day. No fighting, lots of time with Miguel, and music to go with it. You're so happy you could melt.

Miguel turns to you and sees your stickying smile.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just happy to be here with you," you say.

"Don't say stuff like that," he says, turning back to his screen.

"Scared you'll actually experience sincerity?" Lyla asks.

"Lyla," he warns, as though Lyla might be afraid of any consequence he had the power to inflict.

"Sorry," you say, not very sorry, but not wanting him to be uncomfortable, "it's just nice, being friends with you."

"We aren't friends."

You're not quick to take offence with Miguel. He can be cruel. He's hurting, he's unhappy, he has a lot on his plate. Oftentimes he's so tense with apprehension his neck locks up and you hear it clicking as he turns one way or another, or if he isn't apprehensive he's disappointed, furious, upset. You give him the benefit of the doubt because you know him, but you don't know the tone of voice he uses now. It's like he's offended at the insinuation. Like he would never, ever be friends with you.

You put your lemonade on the desk and don't know what to do. His insipid floating platform is too high now to leave without causing a scene. Maybe when he's busy you can web down and go home. All you know is that you desperately don't want to be near him. But home sucks, and the dormitories are worse. You're stuck.

"You can be so mean," you say softly, turning back to your sketchbook and pencils.

You're thinking you might draw him with a bunch of bee stings, or find a previous sketch and cross his eyes out.

"What?" he asks.

Your hackles rise. "You're mean. Don't talk to me."

"What?" Miguel stands very still. "Y/N, what?"

"What do you mean, what? I said something nice and you said something cruel. I get it, okay, we aren't friends, so don't talk to me."

"I've upset you."

You stare at your blank page. "It doesn't matter."

"No, I've said the wrong thing."

"Miguel, don't bother. What else could you mean by that?" You laugh with little humour. Crestfallen doesn't begin to describe how you feel. "I'll be quiet. I just don't want to be at home."

"What's wrong with home?"

"Is there ever much right?"

"Did something happen?"

"We aren't friends, so why ask me?"

You bite the inside of your lip as Miguel approaches, his footfall hushed over the lightweight metal flooring. You turn to him in your chair, head tilted back to meet his eyes, arms crossed over your stomach defensively.

"That's not what I meant when I said that." He speaks slowly, firmly, to avoid any misunderstanding. "What's wrong with home, mi cielo?"

You tap his ankle with your shoe, looking away from his gaze. You don't want to tell him, and if he keeps looking at you like that, you will.

"¿Qué pasó?" He bends at the waist slightly, bringing his face closer to yours, dark hair falling into his eyes.

"I don't know what that means," you murmur.

"Did something happen?" he asks.

"Nothing happened, it's just– it's lonely there," you say, squirming under the weight of his gaze, his sudden caring. "What's with you? One minute you're not my friend, the next you're worrying about me? You're giving me whiplash."

He stands up, and his face falls back into a more typical emotionlessness. He's clearly feeling something, but he's wiping the slate clean.

"When I said we aren't friends, it didn't mean–" He grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were staying in the women's dormitory?" he asks, frustrated.

"I am, but I'm useless, and they don't really respect me because I'm–"

"Eccentric?"

"–not as experienced," you finish, eyes flaring.

"Oh, my god," Lyla says, appearing in front of him to make sure he sees her delight at his slip up.

Miguel bats her hologram with an annoyed grunt. She disappears again, her tinkling laughter cut short.

"It's a good thing," Miguel says quickly.

You stand up. "It's not the point."

"You should feel at home in the dormitory, and if you don't, I'll find you somewhere else to stay here, you don't have to be in there if you don't feel welcome."

"Miguel, you're sounding awfully friendly right now."

"We aren't friends," he says again, stepping closer to you. "What's so hard to understand about that?"

"But we spend time together. We have fun. You like me, Miguel, you do, you tell me jokes sometimes, you make me things for me. You… you do like me, right?"

"You know that I do," he says, his eyebrows pinching together.

"You like me, like, you want me," you say, just to make sure.

His fist clenches hard enough to make an audible sound. Miguel's voice is fraught, and through barely parted lips, "If you know that, what's the problem?"

You don't know. Maybe it was silly to worry about how he sees you, because you do know that Miguel likes you, but you also know he hadn't wanted to like you. His attraction to you was reluctant, you're not stupid enough to miss that, and it was important to you that whatever tension sexual or otherwise lingering between you had bloomed into mutual affection.

"I want us to be friends, too," you say.

"I thought we were more than that."

It's such a quiet admission. He isn't afraid to say it, and he isn't reluctant like you feared.

"Miguel," you say. "I want you to like me. I know I can be off-putting, I know I tease too much, but I don't want you to like me despite those things, I just want you to like me. So, when you say we aren't friends…"

"I've never heard you say three serious sentences in a row," Miguel says, reaching out for your hand. He pulls you toward him slowly, his fingertips gliding up the length of your arm. "Then again, it's the same nonsense as usual."

"Miguel–"

"Of course I like you. How else do you need me to say it? I like you and I want to kiss you, I like you and I like that you're irregular. You want us to be friends? Then let's be friends." Miguel's hand closes around your bicep. His thumb presses against soft fat and muscle alike. "But not just friends."

Relieved, you sigh. "So you're saying we really weren't friends?"

Miguel leans down until his face is the only thing you can see. His smooth skin, his dark eyes, their darker flush of too-long lashes; it's unfair how pretty his eyelashes are, how they curl, how they bunch in triangles you have to fight to resist touching. His eyebrows so often slightly set, giving him an unhappy expression even now.

He brings the hand that isn't clasped at your bicep to the hill of your waist. It's hot as a brand, and it pulls you closer, your neck craning with every inch he steals from between you.

"We can be friends," he says.

His fingers twitch against your arm, and his hand begins to climb. It's not as slow as it feels, conquering the curve of your shoulder, your neck. His hand is big, his thumb pressing into the column of your throat gently.

He looks at you for a measured lapse of time, and you know, finally, that you're on the same page.

"What you said before, 'mi cielo?'" You hold his elbow. "What does that mean?"

"My sky," he says. "My… my heavens. It's saccharine. It's something teenagers say, when they're," —his voice dips, the hand at your waist squeezing tight like you might slip through his hold— "infatuated."

"Just teenagers say that?" you ask.

"No," he allows. "I always thought it was too much."

"But you–"

"Yeah. I did."

The first kiss is surprisingly sweet. On the tail end of words, Miguel presses his lips half-parted to yours, slowly, softly, like the brush of a downy feather. He lingers, and it's your own movement that spurs him on —you shudder up into his lips and he loses control.

The sound he makes is a shock. You try to pull back to check he isn't hurting, and he lets you until he realises why it is you're pulling away. "It's fine, it's okay," he says quickly.

Assuaged of your concern, he pulls you back in and he kisses you, he kisses you, his hand squeezing too tight and his nose bridge sliding up against yours from the force of it all. Your chest feels like a pit and you need Miguel closer if you're ever going to fill it, your hands snapping up to his face like magnets. There's no need to pull him down to you, he's already wading in, not wading —crashing, kissing you so hard your lips burn.

You make a sound that says, hopefully, This is really fun, but don't give me a bruise.

His tongue is a heat at the seam of your lips. Your weight bends, your chest leaning into his front. He doesn't hesitate to ease his hand behind your back and prop you up against him as things get heady, and the only thing you can feel is him.

All those times he almost kissed you, all those times he couldn't cross the gap. He poked and prodded and provoked you into getting into his space and each time you called his bluff. You wanted Miguel to give in, and now he has, it's the meltiest, most stickying warmth you've ever felt.

Voices sound far away, off the platform and down the hall. Jessica and someone else, approaching fast.

Something sharp snags your bottom lip as Miguel pulls away. You press your finger to your sore lip. When you pull it away, blood spots your skin.

Miguel takes your face into his hand and angles your face to a glowing screen carefully, in total juxtaposition of the grip he'd had on your waist.

"Sorry," he mumbles, the tip of his fangs catching the light. His adrenaline must be high.

"Excited?" you ask him breathily.

He wipes your lip with his thumb. The other hand pet's your cheek. You feel suddenly and smotheringly adored, all his attention on your pinprick wound.

"Everything okay up there?" Jessica calls.

Miguel drops your face like he's remembered himself. You turn to your newfound company, Jessica Drew and an unhappy looking Gwen Stacy. This high up, there's no way they can see the state of either of you, mussed hair and Miguel's blushy cheeks, but they'll see you eventually. And Miguel might like you, might want you, might be your more-than-friend, but he's a stickler for appearances, and being found kissing your subordinate dizzy when you're supposed to be working would mortify him.

"I cut my lip on a lemonade bottle," you call cheerily, waving at grumpy Gwen. Her lips perk up. "Miguel's trying to tell me it's my fault. Is lemonade usually sharp?"

His hand flattens subtly at the small of your pack.

"Thanks," he murmurs.

"Welcome, handsome. Is it bad?" you ask, turning back to hip with your lip pouted.

His eyes visibly soften at the sight of you. "Not that bad."

"Alright, good. You'll have to let the platform down, I need to go."

"What? Where are you going?" he asks.

"If we're friends now," you say, lilting, performing a half spin in front of him just to watch his eyes narrow, "I'm going to have to make us bracelets. Friendship bracelets." He clearly doesn't like the idea of being friends still, so you amend with a softer tone, "Friends and whatever that was. Come on, you'll love it. I'll make it match your suit."

He rubs the space between his eyebrows.

"Will you bring your stuff here?" he asks, the platform beginning to lower under your feet.

"Duh. I need to take lots of measurements. I'll be in your hair all day, you'll hate it."

He nods like he agrees. "I'll hate it," he says, deadpan. When he's sure Jessica and Gwen aren't looking, he gives you a smile you've never seen before.

You and I have a secret, it says.

Lyla appears by your shoulder to instantly tell him otherwise. It goes without saying that she's mildly disgusted and extremely smug. "Don't match it to his suit, Y/N. Mr. Heartthrob here needs something soft. How about some baby pinks, hm?"

Miguel sighs, but you barely hear him over your excited gasp. "Yes! Pink and white, for sure, that would be so nice."

"Great," Miguel says. "Perfect. Thanks for that, Lyla."

"You're so welcome!"

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D please reblog if you have the time ♡

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madwcman · 8 months ago

Note

hi!! what about a best friends to lovers with tasm peter parker AND AND she thinks he likes someone else but he’s been whipped for her since FOREVER😋!! thanks a lot hehehe

a/n: let’s pretend this didn’t take me so long to answer, thank you for requesting!! enjoy ♡

pairing: tasm! peter x reader

“you’re avoiding me.” looking up from your phone, you see your best friend and now crush, peter parker. his arms folded over his chest, with a sour face.

“i don’t know what you mean pete.”

“liar.” and that you were. not only were you out hiding from him now, sitting in the bleachers of the football field. you’ve also been avoiding peter for the past two days after realizing you had a crush on him. which was an issue. not only was peter your best friend, but he also liked another girl. you thought she was better than you. not only was she smart but she was pretty. the perfect girl for peter.

“i’m not a liar, peter.” you sigh, looking back at your phone. avoiding peter’s eyes.

“you’re literally avoiding me right now!”

“i’m talking to you aren’t i?”

you hear peter huff as he sits down next to you. “you’re not even looking at me.”

you shrug him off. you’re not willing to answer him at the moment.

“what’s wrong, sweet girl?” peter questions, softly. he reaches for your hand.

“it’s nothing peter, i promise.” you mummer, as you put your phone away, looking straight out to the football field. still trying to avoid peter’s eyes. but you do hold his hand.

“you’re lying again.” at the moment you wonder if it’s his spidey senses that give you away or if peter truly knows you. you hope it’s the second option.

“can we just drop this?” you finally turn to look at peter. his boyish and charming smile, traded in for a small frown.

“no, my best friend has been avoiding me for the past two days!”

“i have not-��

“can you just tell me what’s wrong?!”

“Peter, i like you okay!” you yell out, taking your hand from peters. you tilt your face down, embarrassed. “i’ve been avoiding you because i know you don’t feel the same.”

it’s silent for a few seconds. but peter’s loud laugh breaks the uncomfortable silence. “are you laughing at me?” you ask, slightly confused, flabbergasted and a little offended.

“no!” he giggles, uncontrollably. you send him a glare. he’s being a little cruel, in your opinion.

your eyebrows furrow, as you push peter away from you. “you’re laughing!”

“i’m sorry, it’s just you’re so oblivious!”

“what?!” your voice raises, you can’t help but be slightly annoyed and defensive. you’re not oblivious.

“sweetheart, i’ve been in love with you since forever!”

oh, you’re shocked. you’ve never expected to hear those words from peter. “forever?”

“forever.” he shakes his head, as if to assure you.

“what about that girl you’ve been hanging out with?” voicing out your confusion, you couldn’t help but think of the beautiful and smart girl peter has been around lately.

“who, sadie?” you didn’t know her name. but you shake your head, assuming.

“sadie’s my lab partner. ”

“oh.”

“oh?” you feel slightly dumbfounded as peter eyebrow quirks up, questioning you. he’s simply curious. you have his full attention.

“i’ve been thinking you’ve liked her this whole time.” you admit, bashful. you can’t help but feel flustered while admitting this to peter.

peter can’t help but laugh again. this is comedy gold. he couldn’t love or cherish anyone as much as he does you. “oh, this is hilarious!”

“it’s not that funny!” you defend yourself, how could you have possibly known she was his lab partner!

“this whole time-“

“shut up.” you try and give your best intimidating glare. as he continues to laugh.

“we could have talked-“

“shut up!” you pushed him away, playfully. you try to conceal your smile, with peter it’s hard. you can’t help but smile around him.

peter scoots back over to you, warping his arms around you. “my poor sweet girl,”he mumbles into your hair. “you’re never allowed to avoid me again.” he states, before kissing the top of your head.

#tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker x y/n #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker angst #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter x y/n #tasm peter x you #tasm peter fluff #tasm peter angst #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #kiyahs requests₊˚౨ৎ ˖

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maivolpe · 6 months ago

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Peter Parker x female!reader (established relationship)

Imagine if Peter finally brought his gf to the tower

Everyone would be so happy for Peter, and tony would give her wanrjngs ofc

this is an alternate universe where the events of civil war never happened, but tony still called peter in. and let’s not talk about how i’m over a year late… life caught up to me. if you’ve stuck around, i appreciate you! thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader cw: mentions of anxiety, mentions of alcohol, threats wc: 1.4k

“honey, why are you fidgeting?” peter asked, gently grasping your fingers to keep you from pulling on the hem of your sweater.

you sighed, giving his hands a small squeeze. "i'm scared, pete. they're a huge part of your life. what if they don't like me?"

he laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "i promise they'll love you, bug. how could they not?"

you managed a wobbly smile, and concern clouded peter's face. "how about this, honey? if they don't like you, i'll quit. i'll pack everything up and leave. we're a package deal, yeah?"

he extended his pinky, prodding yours.

"no, that's so stupid. this is- you love everything about them, and this job. i could never make you do that."

peter wrapped his pinky around yours and grinned. "good, because it's not going to happen."

a small ding preceded the elevator slowing to a stop, and your heart once again raced. you knew it was stupid, you knew they wouldn't be anything but kind to you. and yet, the same little voice that told you peter was too good for you was talking.

it didn't have much time, however, because the elevator doors slid open.

in front of you stood a massive workshop, high-tech equipment stuffed in every corner. screens mounted high on the walls blinked with all sorts of blueprints, while robots scuttled across the ground and holograms of iron man suits twirled through the air. both vintage and sports cars lined the back wall, shelves stuffed with funnels, jacks, and batteries. old versions of iron man suits stood displayed across the workshop, all the way from the silver mark two to the flashy mark forty-five.

the real iron man was bent over a table saw in the middle of the workshop. he was clad in a ragged metallica shirt, grease smeared across his face as he ran a sheet of cherry-red metal over the blade. sparks danced up into the air at the contact, just missing his face.

“hey, mr. stark!”

the screech of the saw stopped, though tony didn't look up from his work. a scrap of metal clattered to the floor, and you cringed at the sound.

“hey, pete,” he said.

it was silent for a moment, and peter cleared his throat. tony’s gaze flicked toward you, and you offered him an awkward wave. his eyes widened.

“well jesus, spider-boy, you didn’t tell me you were bringing a lady!”

“sorry,” peter laughed. “this is mr. stark. mr. stark, this is…”

"oh, she needs no introduction!"

he leapt up from his desk, tossing his plastic safety glasses to the side before pulling you into an embrace. he smelled like smoke, and your eyes stung with it.

"nice to meet you, mr. stark," you said, muffled against the fabric of his t-shirt.

"nice to meet you, kiddo." tony leaned in close to your ear to whisper. "you hurt him, we hurt you."

you blinked. "um-"

"kidding, i'm kidding. but seriously," he said, straightening up and walking back to his saw. "don't try it."

"i-i won't."

peter shot tony a glare before taking your hand in his. "come on, bug, let's go meet the rest."

"bug? that's adorable. think i should try that on pepper?"

"shut up, mr. stark!"

peter led you across the floor, through a set of doors, and up a flight of stairs. when he ceased to hear your footsteps pattering behind him, he glanced back at you. you stood three or four steps down, mouth agape at the majesty of the space in front of you.

it was the floor of the avengers tower that you'd become accustomed to seeing, in the back of peter's selfies and facetime calls, but pictures didn't do it or its inhabitants justice. beautiful paintings were hung across the walls, antiquated weapons were illuminated in glass cases, and intricate centerpieces adorned a dark wooden dining table. bookshelves lined the hardwood floors, full of armor and games and magazines. light streamed in from frosted glass windows and glowed from lamps set in every corner.

the kitchen was just as impressive, overflowing with bowls of fresh fruit, all sorts of cutlery, and every cooking gadget you could dream of. some shelves were full of cookbooks and ingredients, others displaying china and cocktail glasses. the sleek silver appliances glinted in the sunlight, only compounding your overwhelming sense of just how expensive everything was.

the scarlet witch stood at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot that smelled heavenly. across the room, sprawled on an orange couch, was black widow. the opposite couch held sat captain america and the falcon, deep in conversation.

peter's voice echoed across the room when he spoke.

"hey, i, uh, brought you guys a friend."

every head turned, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. silence hung heavy in the air, and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"well, don't stare the poor thing down," natasha said.

somehow, just like that, the tension was gone.

wanda smiled brightly from her spot in the kitchen, offering you a wave with her free hand. "i like your sweater!"

"thank you!"

steve rose to his feet and shook your hand firmly. "i hope tony didn't scare you too badly."

you chuckled. "no, he's just... a little intense."

natasha laughed, shifting to one side of the couch to make space for you. "that's a nice way of putting it."

you settled next to her gratefully, and she offered you a warm smile.

"he's going crazy because rhodey's not here to keep him in check," sam said.

"when does he get back?" peter asked. "i have an idea for a new attachment for his suit."

"he has a committee meeting in d.c.," natasha said. "he should be back in a week."

peter frowned. "why does he have to be gone for so long?"

"do not be upset that colonel rhodes has a job and you are unemployed," a new voice spoke from behind the couch.

you snickered at the betrayed look on peter's face.

the android floated around the corner, extending a vibranium hand. "i am vision."

you shook his hand. "nice to meet you."

peter didn't want to let the subject drop. "being spider-man is my job," he argued.

you saw your chance to tease him, and took it. "then where are those paychecks?"

peter's jaw dropped, and before you could protect yourself, he was lunging forward, fingers tickling under your shirt. you squealed and squirmed behind natasha, who stared daggers at your boyfriend until he backed down.

steve smiled. "i like you. you're good for the kid."

"yeah, he needs humbled sometimes," sam agreed.

the conversation continued around you, and while you didn't contribute much, they made sure to include you. you found you loved observing the avengers' dynamic, their quick banter and easy laughter captivating you. it felt like, well, a family.

wanda called to you from the kitchen, her voice pulling you out of your reverie. "i am making lunch, would you like a plate?"

you shook your head. "that's very kind, but you don't have to."

"no, i insist."

"trust her," sam offered. "she's a great cook."

you relented. "if you're sure, wanda, i'd love a plate."

everyone gathered at the kitchen table while wanda served up lunch. peter pulled a chair up next to you and pressed a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"having fun?"

"so much," you smiled.

wanda had made dumplings, and they were indeed delicious. you were glad you had taken her up on her offer. they even seemed to sate peter's superhuman appetite- he sat back in his chair after only six.

tony passed through the kitchen, even dirtier than before, if that was possible. now a whole sleeve of his shirt was singed off. he grabbed a plate with stained fingers and loaded it with dumplings.

"these are great," he managed between bites.

"they're better if you chew them," steve mumured.

"hop off, old man. not like you could chew with those dentures anyways."

he finished his plate and set it on the table, grabbing a bottle of scotch from the shelf. natasha and steve exchanged looks while he poured himself a glass.

"underoos, do me a favor and bring your aunt over next."

he strutted out of the room before peter could let out an exasperated 'mr. stark!'

when you had finished your dumplings, peter cleared both of your plates and returned to your side.

"ready to go, baby?"

"pete, could we actually... stay a while?”

you swore you'd never seen peter as happy as he looked in that moment. he was positively beaming, eyes alight with pride.

"we can stay as long as you want, bug."

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

#mcu! peter parker x reader #mcu! peter parker #mcu!peter parker blurb #mcu!peter parker x female reader #mcu!peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker blurb #peter parker x female reader #peter parker fanfic #spiderman #avengers #avengers x platonic!reader #marvel #mai writes

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a-spes · 5 months ago

Text

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ⋆ ₊　 . ˚ . 　. ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝕹𝖆𝖙𝖆𝖘𝖍𝖆 𝕽𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖋𝖋'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　 . 　 ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚ ✧

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　 ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚ ✧ ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ 　　˚ ⁺ ₊ . 　 ˚　.　

( ✿ ) ℱ𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻/𝒞ℴ𝓂𝒻ℴ𝓇𝓉 — ( ❆ ) 𝒜𝓃ℊ𝓈𝓉 — ( ☣ ) 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓀 ( ❦ ) 𝒶𝒹𝓊𝓁𝓉𝓈 ℴ𝓃𝓁𝓎 — ( ✴︎ ) 𝓅ℯℴ𝓅𝓁ℯ'𝓈 𝒻𝒶𝓋ℴ𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉ℯ𝓈 — ( ♡ ) 𝓇ℯ𝓆𝓊ℯ𝓈𝓉𝓈

˚　 . ⤳ 𝓈ℯ𝓇𝒾ℯ𝓈 / 𝒶𝓁𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋ℯ 𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓋ℯ𝓇𝓈ℯ𝓈.

Devious lies (27.842 words) — ❆ ♡ When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room. (in progress).

Pretty faces, dark souls (10.417 words) — ✿ ❆ ☣ part one. part two. part three. part four. you robbed the wrong person, and she makes sure that you pay your debts, willingly or not. (in progress).

⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ ℴ𝓃ℯ-𝓈𝒽ℴ𝓉𝓈 / 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝒷𝒷𝓁ℯ𝓈.

All the things I am not (3.097 words) — ✿ ❆ ✴︎ Since Peter Parker joined the team, things aren't the same anymore. Why does everyone seem to prefer him to you?

Rise of the darkness (2.000 words) — ❆ your family is cursed but you thought you were better, that you could keep the Beast away so you told no one about it. It turns out you can't.

Six feet away (2.600 words) — ❆ you were Natasha's girlfriend. It has been a year since she died and you still can't accept it, visiting her grave whenever you can.

Stained hearts (1.400 words) — ✿ Fury sent you and Natasha on a mission even if he knows you are in a relationship.

Stolen freedom (5.100 words) — ❆ ♡ Natasha became the most feared assassin yet again and a ruthless criminal, while you are working for the government, trying to take her down. You eventually face Nat' for the first time in years.

The blood on my hands (3.200 words) — ✿ ❆ when you kill someone on duty for the first time, Natasha is the one being here to stop you from falling.

The dog's fall (5.200 words) — ✿ ❆ ☣ ✴︎ anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?

The melody of hapiness (1.043 words) — ✿ ☣ they've (wanda&nat) always assumed that you were mute until you finally let them hear the sound of your voice.

The shot you missed (3.000 words) — ✿ ✴︎ you're spending a day at the fair with your girlfriend, the sweetest mob boss that possibly exists, and she makes sure that you've a good day.

☁ ˚ ⤳ 𝓂ℴℴ𝒹𝒷ℴ𝒶𝓇𝒹𝓈.

⁺ ✦ ₊ All the things I am not. ˚ 　 . ˚ Devious Lies — 1 2 ⁺ ₊ ✧ Pretty faces, dark souls. ☁ . The dog's fall. . ˚ . . The shot you missed.

⤳ last update — Nov. 23, 2024.

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asterias-record-shop · 2 years ago

Note

♫ 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡… TASM!Peter Parker with the bingo prompt ‘himbo’?

alright, so the thing is I feel like peter is really book smart but he is so oblivious otherwise, like if someone flirts with him it goes completely over his head. so reader has been his best friend for years and recently has been trying to drop hints that she likes him, and eventually she gets fed up of him being so oblivious that she just kisses him and he gets all whiney and then they do the devils tango (i am so sorry i’m really awkward when requesting 😭) but could there also be a size and praise kink, as well as an oral fixation? (if you don’t feel comfy pls delete this!!)

i hope u have a good day/night 💕

—𓆩[my beautiful idiot]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

nvm anon honey i couldn't sleep without posting this, i hope you enjoy it!!!

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - TASM! Peter Parker x Best Friend! Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 4.7K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - You and Peter have been best friends for what seemed like eternity, and has been in love with you for what seemed like forever, but he’s not going to give up — no matter how much it seems like you don’t like him back. The kid you babysit though that is way too old to be babysat disagrees though, and tries to show him how much you were in love with him too.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - crossover time|| heavily inspired by this interview/edit with Will Poulter (love him so much) || cursing & foul language || mentions of violence || Peter gets hurt || whiny Peter is best Peter || smut warnings include oral, fingering, multiple orgasms, riding, praise, size kink, breeding kink, oral fixation, possessiveness, marking kink, biting, hickies, possibly more?

Miles was a helpless bystander between the two of you. It never worked out, not whenever Peter was too stupidly in love with you he never saw the hints that you dropped.

“Peter, I’m telling you, she’s in love with you!” Miles wanted to strangle the other Spider-Man, very very violently.

“I don’t… I don’t think she is,” Peter mumbles, a pout on his lips as he swirled pasta around his fork, one that you often made because it was his favorite. Was that not hint enough? You knew his favorite fucking pasta! “I don’t think I’m her type.”

“Who’s type?” You walked into the living room, plate in hand full of the cream based pasta you made on the side.

“Yours! Your type!” Miles grins. “Your type.”

“My type?” You hummed, thinking as you tap your chin. “My type… would be smart. Handsome, funny. Nerdy,” you look over at Peter who was still pouting. “Loves pasta.”

Miles slurps up some of the noodles, nodding. “I wonder who that could be!”

“Yeah, I wonder,” Peter mumbles, face falling as he scooped pasta into his mouth. “I wonder.”

“Really? In this room?!” Miles yells, moving his hands to gesture around the apartment. “I wonder?!”

Peter looked around, eyes narrowing. “You like Miles?”

How the fuck could he be so stupid?

“That’s it! I’m done!” Miles stood, looking at you. “He’s hopeless! Completely and utterly hopeless!”

You sigh, standing up too. “I could’ve told you that.”

You go around the couch, taking Peter’s finished plate of food as his face scrunches. “Who’s hopeless?”

“Oh baby,” you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. He didn’t think much of it, you did kiss him on the cheek often. “You are. You’re such a himbo.”

“A what? What’s a himbo?”

“It’s like… a beautiful idiot,” you press another kiss to his cheek, pulling back his chestnut hair from his face. “You’re my beautiful idiot.��

He pours as you walk away, Miles shouting out a goodbye as you finish your food and start cleaning up the dishes.

He didn’t want to be your ‘beautiful idiot’ — he wanted to be yours, overall and absolutely, he wanted to tick every box you ever wanted, he wanted to be yours. If he could, he’d want you to mark him as yours for forever and eternity, he just wanted you. He wanted a mark on him that said you owned him, just like you owned his heart for what seemed like forever.

“Peter? Don’t you have to go on patrol?” You yell out, snapping Peter out of his thoughts.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m going!” He goes into your room because he basically lived with you at this point, grabbing his suit and getting dressed with the door open.

“Peter?” You’re standing at the doorway, arms crossed as he stumbled into his suit, trying his best not to fall on his face. “Miles’ parents invited us over for dinner. I told them yes, you promise not to be late?”

“Yeah, I promise,” he grunted breathlessly as he quickly finished putting on his suit, looking around. “Where’s my mask?”

“Peter,” you say again, more stern this time as you walk over, bending down to pick up something from the ground. He froze when you stood in front of him, fixing his suit before handing him the mask. “Promise me you won’t be late.”

He smiled down at you, wide and his honey brown eyes shining. “I promise. Do I dress nice or casual?”

“Nicer than casual,” you say with a sigh, your hands rubbing against his chest to flatten out the suit, thinking about the fact he wore nothing underneath it. “I’m going to go over there early to help Rio cook, but I need you there by seven. Did you hear that? By seven. Dinner starts at seven-thirty, but I need you there by seven.”

He smiled, leaning down teasingly. “Yes ma’am. Whatever you say, I’ll be there by seven.”

You sigh, a smile on your face as you pat his chest. “Be safe, and take care of Miles if he tags along, okay?”

“I will.”

You both stay there for a few seconds, his eyes staring at your lips as you worriedly push your hands through his hair. You did it often, so much so that it became something you didn’t have to think about doing, or it was something you did when you were nervous.

What you both did were couple things, why weren’t you together? It was because Peter was too much of a beautiful idiot to know otherwise.

“Promise me you’ll be safe, and protect Miles if he goes. Don’t eat on your patrol, Rio is making the best food ever. And you have to be there by seven.”

“I promise,” he pushed your hair back behind your ear, leaning down to press a firm kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you at seven.”

“By seven!” You yell as he jumps out the window, sighing with a smile. “I swear, if you weren’t hot I would’ve stopped trying by now.”

It was seven-ten. Seven-fucking-ten. You helped Rio make arroz con gandules while she took care of the main course - chicken con sofrito - and she had also tasked you in making a grilled salsa. You were smashing it inside of the molcajete, the grinding and the scratching making Miles and his father wince.

“Y/N, honey do you want me to uhm… take over… that?” Jefferson asks as he comes closer to you.

“Nope,” you say as Rio dipped her fingers into the salsa and coughing. “Oh no, is it bad?”

“N-No,” she cleared her throat, coughing. “Just spicy, very spicy. Are you mad, honey?”

“You have no fucking clue,” you basically growled as Miles and Jefferson slowly stepped back.

“You have any clue where this kid is?” Jefferson whispers to Miles, looking over. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to eat that salsa.”

“I-I’ll find him,” Miles says, nodding. “Just… distract them.”

First, he checked your apartment. He looked around, searching for anything that would show Peter was home, and when he found nothing — it was to the streets he went. He changed quickly, already swinging out the window to find the beautiful idiot. It didn’t take him long, quickly going to their favorite spot and finding him lounging, snoring extremely loudly.

“Peter! Peter, what the hell are you doing?!” Miles slapped Peter through the mask, gasping when he saw the gashes and lacerations all over his body. “Holy shit, Peter!”

He snapped up, gasping as he looked around. “What time is it?”

“Like seven-thirty already dude!” He quickly looks around. “What happened?!”

“I was helping a bank robbery, got dammit, Y/N is going to kill me!” He tries to stand, groaning loudly as he holds his side.

“Stop moving! Stop! Y/N taught me how to stitch people up, just lay down!” Miles ordered the older Spider-Man, forcing him to lay back as he grabbed the medical supplies.

“There’s no point, they’ll heal soon enough, I need to get home. Y/N is going to kill me!” He quickly stood, the gashes already getting smaller and less deep. “Let’s go!”

Miles groans. “Am I the babysitter or you?!”

He swung after him, Peter quickly swinging into your room and looking through the dresser that held his clothes. “Oh, come on! Y/N moved my clothes around.”

“Y/N does your laundry?” Miles asks, groaning. “Do you not how in love with you she is?!”

“We switch on laundry duty! It was her weekend so I cooked,” he grabbed a button down, groaning. “Thank fuck she washed my favorite.”

He grabs some new underwear from the drawer, smiles face palming as he rushes to the restroom to get changed. “You're going to bleed through that!”

“No I’m not!” He yelled back, walking out in his new clothes. “I covered the stuff with gauzes.”

“Okay, go upstairs, I’m going to swing up to my room and change, alright?”

He nodded. “Right.”

They both went to Miles’ apartment in different ways, Peter knocking on the door and when it swung open, he smiled at you. You gasped when you saw his gashed face, quickly reaching up. “What happened?!”

“Bank robbery, I passed out on top of a building. So sorry I’m late.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his hands settling on your waist. “Dinner going well?”

“I-I made a salsa, are you okay?” Your hands quickly cup his face, twisting and turning as you sigh. “Rio’s going to freak! God fuck, Peter!”

He laughed. “You have no reason to worry, honey. I’ll just say I… ran into a tree.”

“A tree?!”

“Look at that! Peter’s here!” Miles yelled, running forward. “Let’s eat!”

When everyone sat down at the dinner table, it was obvious something was a little off. “I uhm… how is work, Y/N?”

You clear your throat, nodding at Rio’s question. “It’s going really well! I’m really happy there.”

“Peter, you moved in with Y/N already?” Jefferson asked, scooping food into his mouth. “It’s about time.”

“What do you mean?” Peter paused his actions of stuffing his face, tilting his head like a confused puppy.

“Well… you both are dating, right?” Rio asked, looking over at Miles. “Mijo always told us you were…”

“No, we’re not,” you say, a sad smile on your face. “But Peter does basically live with me! He does my laundry, cooks, you know, normal stuff.”

“Normal… couple stuff,” Rio filled in. “You pay rent too?”

“I-I tried, but Y/N didn’t let me,” Peter says softly, shrugging. “She said that she didn’t need my help with it.”

It goes quiet for a minute before Miles laughs awkwardly. “Hey, guys! I passed my biology test!”

You smiled when Miles saved you both from the awkward moment, cheering as everyone continued to talk about how they knew Miles was going to pass. Peter wasn’t that into the conversation, he was extremely preoccupied.

You both did do a lot of couple stuff.

For fucks sake, you both even slept with each other. Why weren’t you both dating, why?

When dinner was done and a few drinks were put in after Rio forced Miles to go to bed, you both went back up to your shared apartment. You giggled as you opened the door, smiling back at him. “Do you want to watch a movie or go straight to sleep, what do you want to do?”

“Can I talk to you, Y/N?” He slowly takes your hand, pulling you toward your room.

You giggled, shrugging. “Well, straight to sleep it is then.”

He sat on the bed, parting his legs and pulling you between them making you giggle. “Everything okay?” You whisper, pushing his hair back as you leaned down to press your forehead to his. “I know something’s not. What’s up?”

“Why did you say we’re not dating?” He pouts up at you, a giggle falling from your lips. “Hey, it’s not funny! We… we do things that couples do, why aren’t we a couple? I know… I know you might not-”

“For fucks sake Peter, shut up.”

He gasped as you pulled his face up, your lips pressing to his as your nails softly press into his skin, soft but firm all at once. He groaned loudly, his hands pulling you closer before you pulled away, a whine falling from his lips. “What’re you doing?”

His words were almost slurred together even though the alcohol he drank had little to no effect on him. It makes you laugh as he leaned up, pressing more kisses to your lips before he pulled your body solidly against his own, fixing your position so that you sat on his lap and your hands were around his neck. “What baby, you don’t want me to stop kissing you?”

He hummed, shaking his head. “No, you can’t… ‘s unfair.”

You started to laugh even harder as he basically whined, trying to pull you down for more kisses. You hummed as he started to lay back, hands pushing through his hair. “I need you… I need you, Y/N.”

You rose a brow, rolling your hips into his. “Need? Need’s a big word, baby,” you respond, smiling down at him as he groaned into your neck. He shifts you both so that you were laying on your back, leaning down to keep kissing your lips.

He was addicted, now that he had one taste, he never wanted to stop. His tongue pushed into your mouth, desperately swirling his own around yours as you groaned into his mouth, the minute he pulled away was when you swallowed the mixed saliva gathered at the back of your throat. You hummed as he leaned down, his lips pressing to your for a quick kiss, going over and over again with small breaks in between.

“Peter,” you giggled, his mere hum the only proof he was listening. “Are you just going to kiss me or are you going to get a little adventurous?”

He pauses, tilting his head. “Adventurous?”

You laughed. “Fuck, my beautiful idiot,” you pulled him down for another kiss, your teeth grazing his deliciously making him groan before you pulled away. “You can put that mouth to better use somewhere else.”

He paused, his mind taking a minute to process. “Oh. Oh, yeah!”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he quickly pressed one last kiss to your lips before letting his lips slowly, slowly trail down your body while slipping off your clothes, his nimble fingers leaving a trail of fire on your now bare body. He paused as he stared down at you, his eyes dark and pupils blown as he inhaled.

“So fucking beautiful.”

His words make you groan, hands pushing your thighs apart as his head slowly pushes between them, his mouth already hot on your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, his tongue already exploring your wetness and his fingers pushing into your slit, smearing all of it up and down before settling it on your clit.

He wasted no time, groaning as your hands thread through his hair, holding onto his brown curls like the were handles and your thighs settling on his shoulders. He paused though, pulling away making you whine softly, head tilted again. “This is okay, right? I should’ve asked.”

Fuck, why was he so fucking adorable? “Yes honey, this is okay. More than okay.”

He smiled widely, biting his lip. “Good, because your cunt tastes even better than your mouth.”

You gasped as he pushed his face between your legs again, his lips latching on your clit as he pushed a finger inside of you. Your back arches, eyes widening before they roll back into your head, his finger pushing and pumping trying to find the right rhythm, teasing you. He gasps as you tug on his hair, pushing your hips up into his mouth as he groans against your clit, the vibrations making you shiver.

“F-Fuck, Peter.”

He hummed, enjoying the feeling of your cunt clamping down on his finger, curling it inside of you to feel your body writhe underneath his touch. His eyes roll back as a shiver runs down his back, groaning into your clit that he never let his mouth off of for too long, only shifting his head to get into a new angle. You tasted so fucking good, your swollen clit evidence of his torment, but there was something else. Something he couldn’t describe, he could feel you, all of you.

He could feel every clench of your walls, every shiver that ran up your back. He could hear every stutter of your breath, the skip of your heartbeat, every soft whimper you tried to hide as that one finger continues to find every pleasure spot that not even you knew existed. He could taste you with every lick, every suck of his mouth, his teeth even grazing your sensitive skin if he got too focused.

He finally pulls away from your clit, a thick string of saliva attaching your swollen bud of muscles to his lips, your hips bucking as he stares at your greedy cunt trying to suck his fingers back in every time he pulls out. He groans loudly as the shiver running down his back gets stronger, and the twisting of your stomach turns tight, your thighs shaking as your hips rut into his fingers until his mouth joins the actions of sucking on your entrance as another finger attempts to push into your pussy.

You gasped as your hips bucked without warning, your spongy walls enveloping both of his digits, and your mind blurring from how hard the orgasm hits you. Peter doesn’t even stop though, groans falling from his lips as he pulls out his fingers making you whine, your attempts to ride your hips into them failing. His tongue pushes into you though, a gasp leaving your lips as you automatically tighten your thighs around his head, not that he was complaining.

He could be like this for hours, his tongue pushing into you as his thumb rubbed circles into your overly-sensitive and swollen clit, hard but focused and his fingers pushed back into you. His tongue never stopped moving though, flicking and lapping, his mouth sucking and popping sensually against your pussy, groans that sent vibrations from your pussy straight to the growing knot in your stomach making you whine.

You had just cum, but it wasn’t like he had probably even cared about what it would do to your body, how sensitive it would make your body to every movement he made. His mouth sucked on the opening of your cunt, opening his mouth wide to push his tongue into you as your hips buck into his mouth. Your fingers tug on his hair, whimpering as he rolled your clit between his thumb and pointer with his other hand, his tongue thrusting into you as far as he could, an ache forming in his jaw as he tried to get his mouth anywhere and everywhere on your body.

He could feel the sparking along his spine again, your stomach clenching all over again as his fingers rubbed against that sensitive spot inside of you. His fingers twist, curling inside of you as he tries to push another finger into you, the stretch making you scream out as a shiver runs down his spine, a shaky groan leaving his lips as he swallows everything leaking out of your cunt.

He wanted more. He wanted to taste everything coming from your cunt, everything you had, just everything. He didn’t want to stop, his third digit pushing into you and the squelching filled his ears, his breathing heavy and panting into your cunt. His thumb continues its torment on your clit, rubbing and the shocks running through your body as your thighs shake and fingers shakily scratch against his scalp.

Your body was coated in sweat, stomach tight as his fingers edged you onto the climax of another orgasm, they always came quick after the first. Your body was sensitive all from him, your nipples hard and pebbled from the cold air of your room, bottom lip bitten raw from trying to hold back your moans before he squeezed at your clit - the only thing he needed to do to get you to start moaning out for him.

He loved the sounds you made, getting drunk off of your moans and whines combined with the taste of your arousal and your cunt making his dick hard and his senses overflow. He pushed his three fingers into you as deep as he could, all the way to his knuckles to watch your cunt convulse and feel those same sparks on his spine.

“Peter! Peter wait, Peter- fuck!”

Your third orgasm brought you to tears, vision going black as you squeezed your thighs together, hands gripping his chestnut curls as you tried to steady your breathing. He hummed into your cunt, softly patting your clit making you yelp in surprise, parting your legs to watch as he slowly pulled away. “Are you alright?”

You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. “Y-You… you just ate me out and made me cum three times and you’re asking if I’m alright?”

His brows furrowed as he leaned up, wiping his mouth before licking the back of his hand where all your juices went and kissing under your eyes. He was careful not to get too close to your actual eyes, just in case, only kissing where tears fell. “You’re crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”

You giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck after he slowly pulled off his shirt and tugged his pants down to his ankles before kicking them off. “I’m crying out of pleasure. You make me feel so good, Peter.”

He smiled widely down at you, leaning lower to press another kiss to your lips. “Well, I want to make you feel better. Especially with how good you’re making me feel, princess, you make me feel so good. Make me so happy.”

“W-Wait!” Your voice was loud, surprising him as he stared up at you in confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-I… I want to ride you. Please?”

He pauses, but nods with a smile. “Alright. But you can’t be gentle. Don’t be gentle. I want it all.”

You nodded, laughing loudly as he twisted you both over, helping you steady yourself over his aching cock. It was long, thick and veiny, tip red and leaking precum in desperation as he whined, bucking his hips. You giggled, slowly wrapping your hand around his before he nodded and watched as you slowly sunk down.

You gasped, nodding as he slowly pushed into you, his head tilting back and his mouth falling open. Your eyes rolled back into your head, vision blurring as his girth stretched you out even more, every time you thought he bottomed out the more he kept pushing. You whined loudly, hands pushing against his chest as he groaned loudly, eyes wide as he tried to catch his breath.

His body was sheening with sweat, a smile blooming on his face as you dug your nails into his chest, scratching against his skin as you tried to compose himself. This is what he wanted when he wanted you to claim him, he wanted your nails to scratch on his body, your mouth to leave hickies and bite marks, he wanted to be yours.

He watched as you slowly started to bounce on his cock, his eyes staring at your bouncing tits before letting them wander down your body, staring at the bulge on your lower stomach. He hissed loudly as you got harder, fixing your position as your clit rubbed against his pelvis, eyes rolling back.

Your cunt felt just as good wrapped around his cock as it did wrapped around his tongue and fingers, every movement had it squelching and convulsing around his shaft, loud groans falling from his lips as his large hands settled on your hips, thumbs settling on that giant bulge on your stomach.

He watched your mouth fall open as you screamed out, fixing both of your positions to buck his hips up into you and watch your boys fall forward. He kept your body against his, flipping you both over to wrap his arm around your body and press his face into your neck, groaning loudly into your skin as your nails dragged against his back.

He thrusted as hard as he could, desperate to find his climax as your body bounced with this thrusts, loud moans leaving your lips with each thrust and his name falling from your lips over and over. “Yes baby, you’re doing so good. Your cunt is so fucking good baby, I love the way you feel around my dick,” he groans, gasping as your mouth pressed to his skin. “Fuck, fuck yes princess, I want to be covered in you. Want your hickies and your kisses, your scratches and your bites, I don’t care, I want to be covered in you.”

You obviously didn’t expect him to be so into marking, but of course, you weren’t going to say no. You sucked bright purple marks on his skin, digging your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your screams as the bed slammed into the wall, the squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin against skin echoing against the wall was enough chorus of your sex.

You could feel his dick driving into the deepest parts of you, stretching your cunt so that if you looked down you could see the bulge that just seemed to be getting bigger and bigger. Your eyes rolled back as his fingers rubbed against your clit, whispers of praise falling from his tongue as those same sparks ran up his spine, his stupid little mind finally connecting the dots. “Are you about to cum? Are you about to cum baby?”

You nodded your head into his marked up neck, your tongue slowly licking against the bite mark on his neck as you whined into his neck. “Fuck, fuck Peter! Fuck, I can’t, I can’t!”

“Yes you can baby, you can,” he whispers, pulling away to hold your chin. “Look at me fucking you baby, don’t you want me to keep fucking you? I’ll make you feel better than you make me feel, I’ll fuck you so good. I’ll pump all my cum inside of you and you’ll be such a perfect girl for me and take all of it, right?”

Your eyes rolled back, mouth lulling open as you nodded mindlessly. “Yes! Yes, I will, I’ll take all of it!”

“Fuck, fuck Y/N, you don’t know how much I’ve wanted to cum inside of you, fill you up and watch all of my cum make your stomach bulge,” his voice gets huskier, almost like a growl as his thrusts get rougher, messier. “Fucking hell!”

You screamed this time, watching as he completely pulled out of you just to slam back in, your mind blurring as he continued to pull out and slam back in. You could feel your thighs shaking, that knot in your stomach threatening to break. “Peter, Peter! I’m going to cum, I need to cum!”

“No!” He whined, shaking his head as he started to get faster, his hips rough as his hands held your sides, eyes rolling back. “I’m gonna cum, cum with me. Please honey, I want to feel you, I need it.”

A final scream falls from your lips as he bottoms out, eyes rolling back and body shaking as your fourth orgasm absolutely blurred your mind, endless babbles leaving your lips as he panted above you. He stared down at your stomach, the bulge that shouldn’t have been able to get bigger successfully larger. “Fuck honey, look at what I did to your pretty tummy.”

You did, your mind still slightly hazy, but your mouth fell open when you saw the bulge and a whine fell from your lips. “Y-You’re still hard.”

He smiled. “It’s from the spider bite.”

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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

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Hi Mae! I hope your day has been as lovely as you are—which is to say, the loveliest! Could you please write a drabble with tasm!Peter and a reader who is generally not shy but flusters easily when Peter is affectionate and soft? The curse of not being used to it! No worries if not! 💞

Hope your day was as lovely as you are, sweetheart--which is to say, even lovelier <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 412 words

“Baby,” Peter laughs, “I know how to dress for the cold.”

“Right, but this isn’t the subway.” You’re wrapping a scarf around his neck, mouth pulled into a frown. “It’s a long walk to your work, and it’s freezing out. They say it could even snow tonight. This early in the year! Isn’t that crazy?”

“You’re crazy,” he says warmly. “And cute.” Your eyes dip from his face, lips pressing together to keep a smile at bay. Peter watches it happen amusedly. “If I’m late because you’re putting a dozen layers on me, I’ll just have to web to work.”

You snap out of your bashfulness. “Peter, that’s even worse. That suit is like wearing nothing!”

“That’s my point, sweetheart.” Peter takes your face in his hands to press a kiss to your lips, stopping you from reaching for a pair of gloves. You’re outfitted in a coat, scarf, and a hat, appropriate garb for what really is a frigid day. But no matter how many times Peter has told you he runs hot because of his mutation, he doesn’t think you really believe him.

“I’m gonna go,” he says, “but I’ll come by your work during lunch so you can see none of my fingers have frozen off. I’ll bring you a hot chocolate, okay?”

You wet your lips, expression softened by the kiss. “You don’t have to do that.”

“And what if I want to?” He lets his voice drop into a lower register, syrupy sweet. Kisses you again between your brows. “Maybe I wanna thank you for taking such good care of me, did you think of that?”

He can practically feel the warmth emanating from your skin now. Your face pinches as if in agony. “Stop,” you chide him, but there’s little bite when you can hardly speak above a murmur. “You’re doing this to me on purpose.”

Peter smiles. “What is it that I’m doing to you, pretty girl?”

“Peter.”

“Now I bet you want me gone, huh?”

He thinks you’re trying to glare at him, but you’re too shy at the moment to pull it off. “Just stay warm.”

“You too.” Peter pulls your hat down over your ears, dropping a kiss on your nose. It’s burning hot under his lips. He suppresses a laugh.

“You’re so mean.”

“One of us has to be; you’re too sweet.” He does laugh when you cover your face with your hands, stealing out the door. “See you at lunch!”

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dollsque · 7 months ago

Text

❤️‍🔥 ❝ Don’t You See The Way He Looks At You? ❞

❥ Word Count: 1.8k

❥ Short Summary: Peter B. Parker (Earth-616) talks you into confessing to Hobie and reassures you that he loves you back.

❥ Notes: Fluff, Y/N used sparingly, no mention of gender, one-shot, sfw

❥ Masterlist Here <3

🏹 ˚₊ · »-♡→ YOU WERE SITTING AT one of the lunch tables in the Spider Society and eating a Miguel O’Hara burger when you heard a familiar laugh in the distance. Your friend, Hobie Brown, was standing further down with his best friends Pavitr and Gwen. Your stare lingered at him, as usual.

You had been itching to confess to him. You guys had been friends ever since you guys joined the Spider Society, which had been a very long time ago. You two were inseparable, and you guys managed to create so much chemistry that anyone would’ve believed that you two were friends even before you joined the Spider Society—if that was possible.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by someone familiar sitting next to you, and that was Peter from Earth-616. He gave you a warm smile in acknowledgment, and Mayday cooed at the sight of you finally noticing them.

“Hello, Mayday,” you smiled, letting her small hand wrap around your finger. “Hey, Peter.”

“Hey. I noticed you were a little out of it. Something happen?” He questioned. He and you both know why you were out of it; he just wanted you to admit it. It was only a matter of time before one of you said something to him, and it would’ve most likely been you instead of Hobie.

“Yes, it’s about Hobie,” you answered to his nonverbal question. Peter could only hum softly in response. He seemed to be pondering about something; possibly the right way to go about this.

“Well,” he began, “what’s stopping you?”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m getting old; I’ve seen it all,” Peter chuckled softly with some sort of glint in his eyes.

“You’re just turning 40. You’re middle-aged.”

“Some people consider that old.” Peter shrugged.

“You’re taking that in stride. Usually, people would interpret it as having a ‘midlife crisis’.” You pointed out with a playful smirk.

“I got a loving wife and an adorable baby. I don’t think life could be any better,” Peter smiled proudly as he patted Mayday’s head which earned a giggle out of her. “Back on topic, though. You can’t distract me.”

You sighed and scratched your nail softly against the table’s surface. “I don’t know. I just…can’t.”

“You can’t? Or you’re scared?” Peter questioned, propping his head up with his elbow on the table.

“Both, I suppose.” His silence and the curiosity in his eyes signaled for you to go on.

“He had always called me his best friend, and vice versa. Hell, he even told others that we were merely platonic; that’s all. Why would I risk breaking our bond over something so silly? Why should I confess when I know he doesn’t like me back?” You frowned as you picked up a fry, mindlessly stirring the tip of it around in the poured ketchup on your plate.

“Because you don’t,” Peter answered simply. When you raised an eyebrow at him in confusion and even a bit of surprise, he continued.

“Have you seen the way he looks at you, Y/N?” Peter questioned rhetorically. “I do,” he continued.

“Actions may speak louder than words, but eyes show more than actions. There’s just this love and passion—this fiery passion in his eyes when he looks at you. He looks at you like you’re one of the most precious people in his life. He looks at you like he’d protect you from the world, even though he knows you can fend for yourself. The way he looks at you? That’s love.” He paused, looking at the hope, yet doubt, in your eyes.

“I used to look at M.J. the same way when I fell in love with her. I still do,” he chuckled warmly at the thought, softly combing his little girl’s hair with his fingers. “I would know.”

Hobie looks past Gwen and Pavitr for a second and spots you. He didn't even seem to notice Peter yet and gave you a warm smile with this soft look in his eyes; he even turned pink for a moment with a subtle pink heart that you managed to notice.

It was gone as quickly as it appeared, though.

After you smiled back, he averted his eyes back to his friends.

That small moment between you two was when you finally saw a glimpse of what Peter was talking about.

“You see that?” Peter asked.

You nod.

“Besides that warm, loving smile and the fact that he literally turned a cute shade of pink with a pink, paper, heart floating around him for a split second, you can see the softness in his eyes. The way he looks at you is surreal, and yet you’re so worried about the wrong things that you can’t see the right ones.”

You considered his words, slightly frowning while looking down at the table. Maybe he was right.

“However, he shares the same fear as you. I could see it in his eyes sometimes. He loves you, but he’s scared of the fact he loves you, just like you’re scared of the fact that you love him.” His words caused you to look up at him.

“I’m telling you, kid, you two are just two lovers who are scared of breaking the bond that you so desperately hold onto because you think that it’s all that’s going to be as close to a relationship as it gets, but you guys could be so much more. That boy loves you, and I can tell that you love him back just as much.”

“However, I can’t make you confess to him. The rest is up to you. I’m just an old, 40-year-old, mentor.” He smirked, taking a mischievous sip of his soda.

Peter was right; one of you had to make a move, and it definitely wouldn’t be Peter. It was down to you and Hobie, and you decided that it would be you who would make the move.

🏹 ˚₊ · »-♡→ YOU’RE ALREADY STARTING TO rethink your decisions as you walked side-by-side with your best friend, your arms bumping each other’s every once in a while. You guys talked and talked for a while, and eventually you guys perched yourselves off an empty platform that was higher up and more isolated from other Spider Society members.

You two were sitting in comfortable silence, not talking to each other much and just existing in each other’s proximity as he strung his electric guitar and as you watched all the other Spider-People do their own things or chatter with others below. You slightly gripped the edge, preparing to confess—preparing for the worst.

“Hobie?”

“Hmm?” Your nervous tone caught his attention, and he tilted his head up slightly as he continued looking at the strings he strung.

God, how do you say this without it being so damn obvious? With all the overthinking you did, you would’ve thought you were heavily prepared for this, but apparently not.

“I’m really thankful for you, and thankful that you’ve been my friend for so long—”

“Bloody hell, are you about to go on a suicide mission that Miguel assigned to you or somethin’?”

“What—no!” You replied, feigning a frown and playfully smacking him. “Let me finish, will you?”

“Alright, alright, continue.”

You looked down discreetly and saw Peter looking up at you two with a bright, encouraging smile and two thumbs up. Mayday struggled to mimic his hand gesture, but she got it anyway, and you smiled down at the both of them before you continued.

“As I was saying,” you began, taking a small inhale and exhale. “I really hope this doesn’t ruin things between us, but…”

Now Hobie’s concerned. “Is something wrong?” He interrupted, once again.

“No, no. It’s just—could you please…just…”

“Right, right, sorry.” He nodded as he silently promised to keep his mouth shut until you were finally done speaking.

“We’ve been friends for a while and…”

Hobie’s heart stopped, then started thumping slightly harder.

“…I liked you for a really long time. I was really scared to tell you, because what we had was already great and so…real. I didn’t want to ruin that, and I never would have forgiven myself if I did. But…”

You smiled warmly at the thought of Peter.

“Someone encouraged me, told me that I should make a move; he told me that I shouldn’t be so afraid. So, that’s what I decided to do—tell you how I felt. It feels good to get it off my shoulders no matter what your answer is. I just wanted to let you know.

Hobie looked at you, and you saw shock. However, you saw the very same look Peter told you he saw whenever he looked at you; love. Love, and passion. You could only look at him the same way.

“I’ve waited so long for you to say that,” he began with a breathless, soft laugh. “I waited so long to be able to tell you the same thing.”

He then smirked and nudged you slightly the side of his upper half. “Thank God you said something, because I’m not sure if would’ve been able to. Thank God for the person who convinced you as well. Lord, almighty.”

“Oh, c’mon, we were having a moment,” you snorted at his antics.

“Who was our knight and shining armor, hmmm?” He questioned, still keeping that smirk on his face.

“Peter—”

“Which one?” he interrupted, causing you to give him a playful, deadpanned look.

“What? There’s hundreds of ‘em.” He shrugged.

“The one with a baby. Mayday?”

“Ah, humbling reality Spider-Man?” He questioned with feigned awe.

“Oh, shut up,” you laughed. Hobie laughed along and you two shared a laugh for a while. Hobie found himself scooting closer to you until you guys were touching. He then made a move of his own and placed his hand on top of yours.

“Well,” he began, sighing dramatically, looking off into the distance. He then looked back at you with a sincere, warm smile and the lovesick look in his eyes. He even turned pink again for a split moment, and this time there were more pink, paper, hearts floating around him. You almost wanted to touch one of them to see if they were real paper. They were gone quickly though, but not his expression.

“I like you too. Love you, even.”

You smile warmly back at him.

“I love you too.”

♡♡♡

“See? What’d I tell you?” Peter asked, looking down at Mayday, who’s in her baby carrier, with a proud smile. “Your dad’s multi-talented. He can save the city, be the best mentor, AND be an amazing wingman.”

Mayday laughed and reached her hand up so that he could give her palm a kiss, which he gladly did. “Now, how about we go for another burger? I’m pretty hungry.”

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