#spider-man x yn

[ivyquill]

only you (peter parker)

pairing: peter parker x reader alternate universe: none pronouns: ambiguous summary: after trying to break up with your boyfriend, he says something that you never would have expected. warnings: fluff parts: one-shot dividers by: firefly-graphics wordcount: 1,071

You hadn’t expected it. 

How quickly the words shot from his mouth. 

“Then I won’t be Spider-man.”

How, with such ease, he was offering to change the entire trajectory of his life… 

For you. 

You blink at him, surprise wrapping over the features of your face and strangling your limbs frozen. “What?” Your voice echoes, almost sounding akin to a shout among the silence. Peter doesn’t answer at first. Your blabber-mouth boyfriend is silent. His face is soft and his body is stilling. His tearful gaze slowly rises to meet yours, his fingers twitch as they reach slowly for yours like a kitten testing a mouse but he doesn’t hesitate. You’re not even sure if he’s breathing. “Then I won’t be Spider-man.” You blink–almost flinch. “But you love Spider-man.” His fingers squeeze yours, you barely noticed that he had secured your hand in his already. “But I love you more.” He breathes, face gentle and patient. When you don’t reply, he slides slightly closer to you. “I don’t want to be Spider-man if it means not having you.” Your breath hitches a gasp but he barely reacts, expecting your surprise from your relationship or his senses you aren’t sure. His lips curl into a gentle smile as if he can hear your thoughts. You can feel your pulse in your throat, hear its bellowing begs to calm yourself. He leans in. “Spider-man means nothing if Peter Parker can’t have you.” Your lip tucks between your teeth which all feel too sharp all of a sudden. 

You softly shake your head. “But ev-everything that you’ve worked for, everything that you’ve fought for–” He interrupts you by shaking his head and untangling from your hands. His own rise up to cup your face and press your foreheads together. “I love you more.” He repeats. The words make you more light-headed than alcohol ever could but you still lack conviction. “Petey, this is your future.” His eyes stutter closed at the familiar nickname and the warmth it permeates through his insides, toiling and tangling them like Christmas ribbon. “So are you,” He retorts, words smoothly gliding past his tongue. Your lips part but he presses his index to them, they scold you silently. “I want you to understand that I am yours, love. I am yours, no one else’s. I’m not May’s, I’m not Tony’s and I’m not New York’s.” A chuckle can’t help but bubble from his mouth. “I want to give you everything,” He lilts, voice sweet and gentle. “Whether that’s me or a thousand diamonds, I’ll make it happen, okay?” Your eyes flicker over his face in uncertainty but his smile looks so reassuring. Your arms wrap around his waist. “I don’t want to be the reason that you can’t do what you love.” You retort quietly, you want to sound sure and final but your breath trembles. His brows raise and he sidles you onto his lap, coiling your legs onto either side of his own. “Then maybe that can be arranged.” He teases and you hate the giggle that slips out of you. The only way you can describe Peter Parker is warm, gentle and yours…Maybe that isn’t such a bad thing but right now you aren’t sure whether it is right or wrong or misguided. 

Peter’s thumb rolls gentle circles beneath your left eye, his nose brushes yours. Never have the both of you ever engaged in such intimate affection. “Peter Parker has the one thing that Spider-man never will and for once that’s more important to me than the whole universe.” His eyes trace over your face with a gentle grace you have never seen. His doe eyes trickle with warmth. You flick your tongue to dampen your dry lips. “What’s that?” You ask in a fragile whisper. His lips twitch up. “Your heart, darling” His eyes flutter shut. “I want to protect that far more than I want to protect Queens.” You can’t help the goofy giddiness that spreads throughout you. “I love you.” You murmur. He rolls his eyes and grins at you. “I know.” Peter teases. You almost push him away but you both know it would take a lot more than your weak-willed hands to twirl out of his grip. As if sensing your internal plots, his hands squish your cheeks. You wrinkle your nose, unimpressed. “It just hurts,” You explain. “Seeing you like this. Seeing you hurt and knowing that there is absolutely nothing that I can do about it but watch and wait.” A sigh flutters from his mouth. “I know, love, I know…” Then his brows cinch. “I don’t even know what I would do with myself if it were you out there instead.” 

“This still doesn’t seem fair…” You murmur. He shakes his head and sighs, breath fanning over your lips. “Well lucky for you, it isn’t your decision to make fair.” He replies softly and almost teasing, a familiar playfulness seeping through. Peter’s right-hand fingers dip through the crevices of your hair, diving through the strands like pieces of thread. His touch tingles along your skin, sparks set up camp as if it’s their home. “I love you,” He utters again and it’s against your own hopes that you sigh with a light grin. “I know.” You respond. His lips turn up to tickle against yours. The skin of both your lips jigsaw into place, they brush in perfect tandem and radiate the heat you have been denying. His touch is tender and wanting, the gentleness of affection radiates as warm as a fireplace. Peter’s tongue dips out to line the seam of your lips. He pulls away. “I want a future with you–a future without villains in the way.” His voice lilts through your ears. “I want a real future with you. I-I knew someone once who lost their own you because of…this.” He gestures , perhaps you would giggle if the subject weren’t so somber. His eyes are dimmer now and something almost fearful lies just below his lids. He pecks a gentle kiss back onto your lips but lets it linger. “Well, I’m not going anywhere.” Your gentle assurance whispers in his ear. A shiver passes over him, his eyes flutter closed. His grip tightens. He knows now. He’s made peace with it. He needs you above everything else. Only you. 

[miguelswifey04]

hear me out, straddling miguel’s lap while you both watch him masturbate o.O

oh my god??? this is soo?!:!/‘snahajajakalals

miguel o’hara x fem! reader

cw// nsfw 18+, smut; no plot, masturbation, voyeurism, oral sex

miguel grins wickedly as you straddle his lap, his hands instinctively moving to grab onto your hips, holding you securely. he begins to stroke himself, his thick cock growing harder under your gaze. “watch closely, darling," he says, his voice low and husky. "this is what you did to me. i want you to see how much i enjoyed pleasing you."

“uh—yes..” miguel continues to stroke his hardening shaft, his eyes locked with yours as he puts on a show just for you. his moans fill the room, a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction. his hand moves up and down his length, gliding smoothly over his sensitive skin. he leans back slightly, arching his chest and displaying his muscular physique. with every stroke, his cock throbs with anticipation, a drop of pre-cum glistening at the tip. the pre-cum makes his cock all wet as his hands pumps his hardened cock.

“ah, fuck, this is all because of you," he groans, his voice rough with desire. "you made me so hard, so hot for you. i can't help but show you just how much you turned me on." miguel’s strokes become more intense, his breathing quickening. every motion of his hand sends pleasurable shivers through his body. his eyes never leave yours, the intense connection fueling his desire. the room fills with the sounds of his moans and the wet sounds of his hand moving along his length. the sight of his erect cock throbbing, veins pulsating, is an erotic sight to behold.

“i want you to touch yourself too, sweetheart," he growls, his voice filled with raw need. "i want us both to feel this pleasure together. let me hear your moans as you give in to your desires." miguel’s eyes darken with arousal as he watches you obey his command. he revels in the sight of you pleasuring yourself, taking in every moan and gasp that escapes your lips.

he matches his pace with yours, moving his hand along his length in sync with your movements. he leans forward, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his free hand exploring your body, teasing your sensitive areas. his breath is hot against your skin as he whispers, his voice laced with desire, "that’s it. let go and enjoy yourself. show me how much you want it."

as the intensity between you and miguel grows, the room becomes filled with the shared sounds of desire. your bodies move in synchrony, pleasure building with each stroke, touch, and kiss. miguel’s grip on your hips tightens, his groans mixing with yours. he breaks away from the kiss, his voice husky and demanding, "my love, let me taste you. i want to feel your sweet nectar on my tongue." with a hungry expression, miguel guides you to straddle his face, his skilled tongue eagerly delving into your wet folds. he expertly works his mouth, teasing and sucking on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

the sensations coursing through your body become overwhelming as miguel’s tongue flicks and circles, sending waves of pleasure through you. the room is filled with the sounds of your moans and his satisfied growls, a symphony of pleasure. miguel’s moans become more urgent as he feels his climax approaching. he tightens his grip on himself, stroking faster and harder, desperate to reach his peak.

just as you reach your own climax, your body quivering with pleasure, miguel gives in to the overwhelming sensation. with a primal groan, he spills his load into his hand, his hot cum coating his fingers. as he gasps for breath, his face covered in your essence, he looks up at you with a mix of satisfaction and desire. "mmm, baby, you taste so incredible," he murmurs, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "such a good girl, giving me such pleasure." he wipes his cum-covered hand on his suit, messy but satisfied. "that was a reward well deserved, sweetie," he says, his words laced with affection. "i enjoyed every moment of pleasing you."

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @obi-mom-kenobi @astro1bloom @sabcandoit @meeom

[hanjisunglover]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓

content: rom-com, heroes and vigilant, love triangle into a poly relationship, delicate topics (su!cide), bad jokes (yo mama jokes).

pairing: 𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗻 han jisung x 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗹 lee minho x f!reader

summary: You never forgot the antihero, deadpool, for taking your father away from you. You never forgot the hero, spiderman, to save your life from an attempt suicide. You forgive, but never forget.

author notes! ta-da! new mini series with my minsung ^^ can't wait to share with y'all the amazing result of this, some infos before y'all start. Deadpool doesn't have cancer, his face is not ruined due the experiments.

001. MUST BE FUNNY IN THE RICH MEN'S WORLD

002. 9 MM - CASSETTE EDITION

003. PRISON FOR LIFE

TAGLIST: CLOSED. @binnies-binna @ihrtlix @yeahsspider @p0eticjust1c3 @manuosorioh @hanjsquokka @boi-bi-ahaha @im-sinking-in-mud @weareapackofstrays @dprkbyn @cupidcures @i2nsstuff @xtegannoelx @lyramundana @catiuskaa @felinows @5starluvr @kpopsstuffs @xxstrayland @tiapatito202278ok

STARTED: 01.11.24

FINISHED: 04.07.24

#forgive but never forget series

© hanjisunglover, jan 2024. all rights reserved.

[lvsunz]

𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓭𝓮𝓻-𝓹𝓾𝓷𝓴(𝓗𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓮) 𝔁 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴 𝓜! 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

𝙒𝙖𝙨𝙝 𝙙𝙖𝙮

A/N:I’ve came over my hiatus and recently watched the new spider verse movie and I really liked Hobie and putting him with a Black M reader makes me so happy

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

You knew that Hobie was spider-punk so him coming home late or bruised up wasn’t no surprised.Each time he’d come home you’d take care of his wounds or fix up his suit if it had any rips in it.During the day Hobie would stop by you two shared apartment rather it was to tell you silly little jokes or grab a snack to eat.He really didn’t care, he would sometimes even ditch fights because ‘he got hungry and needed a snack’.As a normal boyfriend reaction you did sometimes worry for him that was basically your job.No villain out there was going to be nice to a spider-man no matter who it was.It didn’t help that Hobie sometimes liked to pick with his enemies when fighting them.

The time was approaching 10 o’clock and you were on the couch falling asleep to a movie before you heard the window open.Why didn’t he just use the door? You instantly woke up as your boyfriend entered taking off his mask,”What a pain! Another rip and it’s right on my arse!” he exclaimed turning around as you saw the rip and covered your mouth.You didn’t want to burst out laughing but the little guitars on his underwear made it a bit hard,”I’ll fix that for you.” you said as you removed your hand clearing your throat.Hobie obviously sensed your laughter and hummed as he walked to your room to change.

He had returned 15 minutes later with shampoo and conditioner in his hand,”Alright Y/N you know what time it is.” you looked over and groaned moving from your position on the couch.Every twice a month Hobie would help you wash and style your hair as you would do it him.You say the remote down as you walked over to him where the two of you walked into the bathroom and he turned the shower on.You crouched down as you put your head under the water and Hobie grabbed the shower head wetting your hair,”The day I had at work was utterly unbelievable!” he said as he moved the hand through your hair, the water helped define your 4() hair.As he was talking it seemed he lost focus water sliding into your eyes,”Hobie!” you yelled out wiping the water from your eyes and he only paused wearing a cheeky smile,”Sorry luv.”

He finished without getting any shampoo and conditioner in your eyes and you were now sitting in between his legs as he sat in the couch.He put your hair into four sections before turning on the blow dryer.You watched the tv as Hobie combed through your hair and you winced a bit each time a knot stopped the comb from going through completely.Many ow’s and that hurt later Hobie finally put your hair into cornrows before covering it with a durag,”There you go luv!” he said as the two of you looked in the mirror and he pressed a kiss against your temple,”I still have a mild headache…” you laughed.

[sarcasm-and-stiles]

Peter: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much.

Y/N: Oh, you’ve been?

Peter: Once. In Monopoly.

[preciouslandmermaid]

🕸🕷 my heart is a hornet's nest 🕸🕷

Pairing: Insomniac Peter Parker/Spider-Man x Fem!Reader (code name: “Huntress” + she is Kraven’s daughter)

Rating: T

Summary:  It's been thirteen months since Kraven was killed by Venom. Despite everything, you're still in the city and helping a nerd - named Peter - in his garage try and save the world. It's hard to ascertain where your old life as a hunter ends and your new life begins. Somedays you can't even tell if you're moving forward or not. But, the pull you feel towards Peter is magnetic. And it's bound to end in catastrophe if you pursue him.

Even as part-time Spider-Man, Peter knows his relationships with others puts them at risk. He doesn’t want to throw you back into the carnage, into the fray, to the wolves you claim to be so comfortable around. He can't risk it. He can't risk you. And the long nights in his garage are really, really starting to wear at him.

Prompt: "Are you afraid of me?" / "Do I look afraid?"

tags: enemies to Lovers/enemies to friends to lovers, no use of y/n, secret identity, unresolved romantic tension, first kiss, light angst, slow burn, mutual pining !!

🕷🕷 ( read on ao3 ) 🕷🕷

Kraven snaps your name like a whip.

“You’ll oversee this one, huntress.” he says without looking away from the screen.

A mixture of pride and trepidation curdles beneath your skin. Kraven is trusting you, but he trusts plenty of his hunters. You lick your lips. The transfer of Martin Li. You promise Kraven that you’ll put the team together and leave before the hour.

No one questions Kraven’s decision. You don’t get special treatment purely because you’re his blood. In fact, if you look closely (which you won’t), you’d say that Kraven treats you worse than his other hunters. He expects—he demands – more of you.

There will be a target on your back when Kraven completes his hunt and finds a worthy enough predator to kill him. But that’s nothing new. You’ve had a target on your back since you were young enough to understand the way of the world; predator and prey, hunter and hunted, kill or be killed.

You lift your arm-- THUNK!—the throwing knife hits its bullseye.

“Huntress,” a hunter named Erik approached you, “you want five VTOLs?”

THUNK! This one is a little off-center and you blame Erik for distracting you. You exhale, balancing your weight, and lining up your shot. Erik is bold. Kraven named you the leader of Li’s abduction. He shouldn’t be asking questions. Your eyes narrow.

You pivot on your heel, fast as a viper’s strike, and flashing silver spins through the air. It’s beautiful.

Erik makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat.

Your throwing knife wobbles from where its pinned Erik’s hood to the wall. His eyes flick to the blade. He’s lucky you didn’t miss. Otherwise the blade would’ve sank into his throat or he would lack an ear for the mission ahead.

“That’s what I said,” you yank the knife from the wood, freeing him, “wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Erik says, voice tight and clipped, and his eyes darken. You know he is loyal to Kraven, not you. If he managed to kill you – Kraven would be disappointed, but he wouldn’t mourn you. Nature is cruel and so is your father. You sheath your throwing knives while keeping one eye on the hunter.

Erik hasn’t left which means he could be planning his next move. You tense and wait for the inevitable blow. Come on, you think, try it. You’d be happy to fight off your frazzled, nervous energy. You should probably conserve your strength in case things with Martin Li go bad.

Erik nods, “huntress,” and leaves.

You roll your shoulders and return to the weapons cache. I’ll bring Martin Li to Kraven and he’ll have his wonderful fight. He’ll achieve his dream.

Nothing will go wrong. Nothing could. You’ve been planning this for months.

******

Peter wobbles to his feet, his head ringing. Whoever these guys are—they’re serious. The tech they’re using is insane. Invisible drones. Laser swords. What’s next? A few giant mecha-robots intent on crushing Harlem? He shouldn’t think about it – he doesn’t want to jinx it.

He stares into the face of the capable, dangerous stranger with smoke burning his nostrils and scalding his throat.

Dark soot clings to your clothes, your expression venomous and focused, furrowed and tight. The light frames you, bouncing off the east river in sparks, and refracting over the small throwing knives clutched between your knuckles. She’s fast, like really fast. Fast enough that he’s concerned you have a spider-sense of your own. Who the hell are these guys? Miles kicks a drone in mid-air and metal-on-metal crunches together like a compacted soda can.

Peter jumps before the blade can slice through him. It whistles through the air, hits and – literally bounces! -- off a metal pole. His lenses widen. He twists his body. His nerves ignite with impending danger, but he’s in the already dodging the first blade.

He’s Spider-Man.

He can’t stop physics.

Your second blade cuts through the air and burns when it cuts his shoulder. He lands on his feet, a sharp inhale drawn through his teeth, and resists the urge to check the injury. She can’t have that many knives on her!

Your lips quirk, “are you afraid of me?”

“Do I look afraid?”

“Hard to say,” you make a gesture around your face, “with the mask and all.”

“Where’s yours?” he propels through the air with his webs slung behind him, “I thought--” you deflect his punch, “most bad guys—” you stumble backward when he kicks your chest, but recover quickly, “want to keep their identities a secret.”

“I have no shame in who I am,” your leg swings over his head.

“So uhhh...who are you?” he quips. His palms land flat on the cold, metal surface and his spine curves, his body moving like a question mark, and avoiding the onslaught of your assault.

“Serious question!” he says a little louder this time while your silver knife dances through the light as it carves his webs into flimsy pieces.

A burst of green flares flash against the gray smoke. His heart flips. The raft jolts to the side. They’re going to drag the ship underwater! The heavy-duty spears punch through the metal as if it was made of tissue paper.

“We gotta get this ship free!”

Peter spares a final glance over his shoulder and you leap from the other side. Are you landing on another boat? A life raft? Are you going to swim away? He has no clue. He can’t spare any further brain cells on it though. He slides down the tilted raft toward the giant spears that function like fish-hooks into the industrial, military transport raft.

***

It’s been approximately thirteen months since Kraven met his end.

You’ve found that keeping count provides some strange, twisted comfort. You wake up, check your calendar, and strike another tally mark into the wall. It feels good to carve the line into the sheet-rock, little flecks of white catching on your thumb and falling like cremated remains onto the hardwood floor and clinging to your socks.

Sometimes you run into old hunters, vying for territory, and hoping to claim some scraps that Kraven left behind. Many, however, fled to Kraven’s homeland to play out the tragedy of a power vacuum and continue Kraven’s legacy.

None of them have impressed you. Not the ones that have sought you out, hoping to kill Kraven’s kin, and earn glory. And definitely not the ones who you’ve run into accidentally. Those are the worst. They’re cowards. They’re mice. You stumble upon them, trying to eat the crumbs off Kraven’s table, and your retribution is swift and bloody and a pain in the ass to clean up.

You wonder what Peter Parker would say if he knew. You pull your sweater over your head. Peter, the nerd running a research foundation out of his garage, happens to be your only...well, friend is the wrong word...but he’s your only something in this city.

You aren’t supposed to have ‘somethings’. Attachments, as Kraven would call them. Attachments made you weak. You thought it was hypocritical for your father preach this advice when he had a wife and multiple children. Not anymore though, you finish lacing up your boots, everyone’s dead now except for me.

The cassette clicks with a satisfying ‘CLUNK’ into the player and you slide your headphones over your ears. The player was a gift from Peter. No. Gift is the wrong word. It’s on a loan.

“What’s this?” You cradled the cassette player, “it looks ancient.” You twisted the sharp-grooved circles. They remind you of strange teeth. You click the play and pause button. It’s clunky. It’s right-angles and lackluster chrome and the buttons make noise.

It’s the antithesis of the technology you grew up with around Kraven.

You love it.

Peter rolls his chair over to you, “it’s not ancient. Maybe vintage. God, do we call it vintage?” he sounds so baffled that you almost smile, “you know, record players and vinyl are making a big comeback so it’s only a matter of time before Walkman do too.”

He doesn’t wait for you to respond, “do you want it?”

“Huh?”

“I’m not using it obviously.” He smiles, “I think I have a few cassettes lying around and there’s no shortage of music shops in Brooklyn.”

Your fingers tighten around the device. The wild part of you, the part that Kraven nurtured through violence and toxic loyalty, wants to throw the device on the ground. See how sturdy it is and compare it to the tactical, military-grade equipment you grew up with. How many pieces will it break into? A dozen?

You gaze into Peter’s earnest face. His eyes are warm, light mahogany. There are soft lines that kiss the corners of his eyes. You think when he is old, he will have many wrinkles around his eyes, and it takes a second longer than normal for your lungs to refill.

“I’ll borrow it,” you say, unable to accept his random kindness, “and return it before our work is done.”

“Great!” Peter coughs, rubbing the back of his neck, “I mean, that sounds good.”

The cassette clicks, whirring warm in your palm, and switching the song. The subway rushes past in a gust of tepid, moist air that smells both stale and greasy. You scan the crowd. The citizens range from individuals wearing jean jackets with sewn patches, to baggy street wear, to plastic bags on shoes, to gym athletics and smart watches.

Someone gets on the train wearing a camouflage parka. Your spine stiffens. Your fingers twitch to the weapons hidden inside your coat. Do I know your face? You shift your body and peer at the subway windows, allowing the ghostly transparent reflection to reveal the stranger’s face.

As you wait for the right angle, the right lighting, you consider your options. Tail them out of the train—could be a trap, but their numbers are never that high. Get close, press the blade to the artery in their thigh, let them see your face before you sink the blade in and leave on the next stop. The timing would be tricky, but not impossible. Not for you. Bail on Pete and spend the next several days tracking the stranger until you’ve found and confirmed their hideout. An ambush. Quick and silent.

The stranger coughs into their sleeve and your fingers fall away from your knife.

You’re glad Pete isn’t here. You’ve never traveled together and you likely never will. It’s safer that way. It keeps him out of your personal life.

“That’s the problem with attachments,” you mumble to yourself, “you start wondering what they might say if they knew you.”

*****

Pete rubs his eyes with his fists, “do you hear birds or is that just in my head?”

You don’t lift your head from the microscope, “it’s birds.”

He yawns. There have been plenty of late nights in his garage shared with you, but this one feels different.

Maybe it’s because of the mercurial light flickering along the planes of your face.

Maybe it’s the notes by your hands, the edges of your fingers smeared black from ink.

Maybe it’s the unplugged headphone wire dangling from your throat and brushing ever-so-often against your exposed collarbones.

Shit. He blinks, looking away. He can’t get mixed up. He’s grateful to you. You donated the notes first, but then pieces of Kraven’s equipment, and then...you came around more and more. You wanted to see what he was doing, wanted to see his progress, or ‘see how helpful your notes are.’ He likes it. He likes having you around.

But, even as part-time Spider-Man, Peter knows his relationships with others puts them at risk. He doesn’t want to risk you too. And it’s not because you can’t fight. To him, you’re finding your place outside of Kraven’s shadow and he doesn’t want to mess that up. He doesn’t want to throw you back into the carnage, into the fray, to the wolves you claim to be so comfortable around.

The sequences before him blur into gibberish. He peeks up through his hair back to you.

Your name is the first word out of his mouth, followed shortly by “you’re bleeding!”

“I tried to catch the sample,” your voice is laced with frustration, “I can’t believe I dropped it.”

“It’s fine,” he opens the first-aid kit that’s stowed beneath the desk, “let me see.”

***

You blink at Peter. Earnest, helpful, kind Peter. You cradle your hand to your chest. It stings, but you’ve faced hornets stronger than this. The tiny shards of glass bounce colorful reflections from the holiday lights strung around Peter’s garage. The wild voice tells you to dig the shards out with your nails.

The blood is starting to stain the hem of your sweater.

Peter doesn’t blink. He doesn’t flinch away. His offered hand holding the gauze doesn’t shake.

You swallow. Why isn’t he shying away from the woman made of shrapnel? Doesn’t he know you’re lethal?

“What?” his eyebrows lift, “are you afraid of me? Or is it medical care in general?” soft humor folds into his brown eyes, “I promise my co-pays are reasonable.”

His words shatter the stiffness of your muscles.

You say, “do I look afraid?” you extend your bloody hand to him.

His fingers curl lightly and gently around your wrist. He flushes the wounds with water before plucking the glass out with a pair of tweezers. His brow furrows in concentration. Your neck prickles and a tingling sensation travels down your spine.

You’ve seen his furrowed brow a hundred times. However, you’ve never experienced it as the subject. Peter holds an antiseptic wipe between his long fingers. His touch is unbearably gentle and you wish you had something to compare it to.

“This might hurt a bit,” the soft, low rumble of his voice is strangely intimate.

The words fall out of your mouth, “I’m used to it.”

“Are we going to unpack that?” He slides the wipe across your angry, throbbing skin.

“No,” your lips twitch, “unless you have a psychology degree I’m unaware of.”

You’re fascinated by the way his fingers move along yours, light and precise, carefully wiping away the blood and wrapping your hand in gauze.

He says, “maybe it’s time for a career change.”

You smile. “What career?”

Peter chuckles, “okay, I walked into that one.”

His eyes lift to yours and his jaw slackens, like he’s finally caught the creature stalking him in the woods, and his fingers twitch on your wrist. The charged moment hangs undisturbed in the air, sending signals through the ether and rearranging the flow of blood in your veins.

His cheeks flush rosy and sweet. The pink hue reminds you of that pivotal morning a few months ago when Spider-Man gave you a sunrise and Pete’s number and a hope for a different future. Your fingers curl into his. And the carefully wrapped gauze prevents you from feeling the warmth of his palm. The wild voice tells you to rip the bandages off and run home. Your knees bump into his.

There’s always so little distance between you.

It’s a small garage, after all.

You tilt forward and hear Pete’s sharp inhale. There isn’t a moment of hesitation. Not for you. You know when to strike, when to move, and when to hide. It’s been drilled into you since birth. Hesitation is a lack of courage, in confidence, and you’ve never lacked either of those.

Peter’s mouth collides with yours.

Your ever-present and paranoid guard slips and you close your eyes to savor it—savor him.

The pliant softness of his lips melds into yours and your exhale shudders between your lips. His hand slides from your throat and holds your cheek, his thumb pressed into your cheekbone, and your hip bumps into the side of his workbench when you stand.

Peter remains on the stool, his neck arched, and his lithe legs part for you to enter the space between them. The thrill illuminates your chest like a red flare against a black sky. His lips play against yours, eager and a little clumsy, and you clutch the front of his wrinkled cotton shirt.

He mumbles your name.

“Shh,” you nose skims along his, recapturing his lips, because you think words might ruin it. The hanging lights flash their merry little dance. There’s fragments of glass under your boots. Ink stains your fingers, blood stains your sweater, and Peter’s tongue stains your lips.

You’ve experienced blood lust. You’ve felt it pounding through your ears and sharpening your focus into razor-thin virulence. You’re familiar with the excitement of a good hunt, a worthy opponent, a well-matched fight. Spider-Man, you think, I’ve felt this with him. But those were mixed with violence, and blood, and bruises.

This – this moment with Peter – is wholly different. Your heart pumps the same blood, pushing it through arteries and valves, but your hands move to caress, to clutch, and stroke through the fine strands of his hair. Your lungs tremble, not in pain, but in elation. The passion rolls through you in waves of syrup and brushes your skin like branches of fir.

Peter’s phone buzzes – loud and incessant – and he groans before tearing his mouth from yours. His cheeks are ruddy, eyes bright, and his chest heaves with hungry gulps of air. You’re glad to know you aren’t the only one affected by the strong pull of – whatever this is – between you.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta--” he lifts the phone from the table, “hello?”

You watch Peter’s face while he talks on the phone. He’s too expressive. He’d make a terrible hunter. And probably a bad poker player, too. You want to kiss him again just for the hell of it. And feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath your palms, feel his breath mingling with yours, his tongue and the blunt force of his teeth.

“I have to go out, um, do you want to come with?” he tilts his chin toward the garage door, “we could – uh – get something to eat along the way?”

You hands twitch at your sides. Your coat, draped on the desk chair, is laden with hidden pockets for knives and darts and small vials of poison. An arsenal for protection, an arsenal for vengeance, the truth of your soul. A soul that Peter cannot – should not – bear witness to.

“Can’t.”

His expression deflates, but he recovers with an easy-going smile.

He shakes his head, “that’s cool,” and says, “another time then.”

You make a noncommittal sound.

***

You finish setting up the tripwire at your apartment door and wipe your palms on your sweatpants. The windowpanes glisten with raindrops, painting the empty corners dark blue, and blurring the myriad of ever-changing traffic lights.

You scratch beneath your ear, upsetting your headphones, and flop onto the couch. The cassette whirs like a little hamster running through its wheel as the song fills your head and blocks out the honking below. You’ve grown to like the city of noise, the city that never sleeps. It’s a concrete jungle. A unique hunting ground.

Tap, tap, tap --

You jerk upright and your head whirls to the noise. Spider-Man perches on the ledge of your window, his red and blue suit shiny and dripping. You cautiously close the distance and begin to disarm the trap before unlatching it. It creaks noisily as it slides open and old paint chips cling to the windowsill.

The cool wet air is tinged with the scent of exhaust fumes.

“Weird time to visit,” you say.

“I was in the neighborhood.” He slips through the window like a salmon and lands soundlessly on the hardwood floor.

You’re going to have to move. You don’t want Spider-Man keeping tabs on you.

“But this isn’t a social call,” he continues, “I need your help with something.”

You lift one eyebrow, “I’m not a mercenary,” then you add, “and even if I was, I doubt you could afford me.”

Spider-Man laughs. “It’s nothing like that!”

You fold your arms across your chest. Spider-Man gives you the vague details of a criminal that he’s had trouble tracking down, could use your expertise, and fighting skills, and so and so forth. It’s a good pitch, you’ll give him partial credit for effort, but you’re not interested in becoming a vigilante – or a hero.

“So, what do you say? We’ve teamed up before.”

Against the symbiote. But, your motivations were selfish. You weren’t helping Spider-Man or trying to save the city. You were weakening Venom.

“No thanks.”

“What?” His lenses widen, “seriously? After my whole speech and everything?”

“Try a power point next time.” You shrug, “I’m retired. No more fighting for me.”

Spider-Man glances around your apartment and there’s evidence of your hypocrisy across every surface. A case of black, tactical arrowheads sits on your coffee table. There’s several target posters hanging on the wall across from your couch with pockmarks embedded into the paper. There’s unfinished gadgets and an open toolbox on the floor near the kitchen where you like to eat breakfast and tinker.

“You’re a bad liar,” there’s a smile in his voice, “just this once, huntress, that’s all. For old times sake.”

You muster the energy to glare at him, but it lacks true heat. “You mean the old times when I was actively trying to kill you?”

Spider-Man shrugs languidly, “we all have bad days.”

That wildness, the hunter that lives inside you, under your skin and in the marrow of your bones is grinding its teeth and trashing into your ribs. It’s hard to determine where you begin and the hunter ends or if they’re destined to forever be intertwined.

You’re a wildcat, unable to be truly domesticated and all your attempts have been in vain.

But, then you remember the warmth of Peter’s lips, his gentle hands, and genuine laughter. You tell yourself, there is room for softness inside of me, for even tigers can purr.

You tell Spider-Man to wait while you get dressed.

“One time,” you hold up a finger, “that’s it.”

“One time.” he agrees with a nod.

Together, you rush into the monotone rain-soaked evening for your first hunt since Kraven’s death.

[bi-disaster-yn]

About You

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Reader can’t help but feel they are missing someone and also feels a real connection to Spider Man but can’t explain why. (Inspired by About You by The 1975).

Set after the events in No Way Home! As always, Peter is aged up to be in his early-mid twenties.

A/N: SO basically all of my fave artists; The 1975, Taylor Swift and PVRIS brought out new music within days of each other so expect a few fics inspired by their songs! P.S this is my petition to be your favourite Peter writer.

Reader has no gender specifications and so can be read as any gender with any pronouns. I typically hate the usage of ‘Y/N’ and try to avoid it but it kinda had to be done here.

There’s something about you

That now I can’t remember

It’s the same damn thing 

That made my heart surrender

And I miss you on the train

I miss you in the morning

I never know what to think about 

I think about you

The strain on your eyes was getting more unbearable as blinking felt like razor cuts on your eyelids, yet you couldn’t pull away. An evening spent in the compound computer lab typing up mission reports became a full on research mission into the elusive Spider Man. 

It had gotten dark outside hours ago but you hadn’t been able to peel yourself away to turn the light on. Instead, you sat in the darkness, being illuminated by the various Daily Bugle videos tearing down the subject of your research. 

Your fascination with Spider Man was odd. In recent times, you had felt like something or someone was missing. There was a void in your chest which only seemed to heal at the mere mention of the vigilante with the ability to shoot webs from his wrists.

It vexed you that no one in the compound had asked him to join the avengers at the battle with Thanos - nor did they think to get his information or even run a simple background check on him. He had specific skills and was invaluable in that fight, they would definitely need him again someday.

Likewise, he had leant before Tony as he died, clearly torn apart by it. Yet no one seemed to know who he was. Clearly, he was important so none of this made sense. 

Although, being fixated on Spider Man went deeper than you considering he’d be an asset to the Avengers. Watching his movements always put fuzzy flashbacks in your brain of a sweet brunette man. All you could make out was brown curls and a smile on a distorted face but it brought you immense comfort. The blurred visions included his laugh and holding his hand. Sometimes they were a bit more detailed and he’d be laying on your chest as you rubbed his back. Yet, despite giving yourself headaches by try to force yourself to remember, the face was never quite decipherable.

You couldn’t recall ever seeing this man but still these images felt like memories and the feelings they inspired in you were real. The mystery of him and his supposed importance plagued your mind as you felt you were running endlessly in circles for answers. Whenever your focus wasn’t on a particular mission or other Avengers business, it would always find a way to go back to him.

Biting your thumbnail, you rolled your eyes as the presenter on the Daily Bugle reprimanded Spider Man again. You would have preferred a more complimentary source for your research but this seemed to be the only resource that took anything to do with him.

All of a sudden, the lights switched on in the lab, startling you and leaving you disorientated. Adjusting your eyes, you looked up to see Sam with folded arms and giving you a stern look.

“Crushing on Spider Man again?” He asked with a playful smirk which put you on defence mode.

“Sam, there’s something there! I know there is.” You snapped back grumpily, tired of everyone underestimating Spider Man’s importance and putting down your ideas as obsessive ramblings.

Sam nodded, seemingly different than before. “Oh, I know. That’s why I’m putting you on a mission to recruit him.”

You raised your eyebrow in surprise, so used to having this subject brushed off when you broached it that this all seemed a little too good to be true. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t want to be the kind of captain that puts my team down when they genuinely think something is a lead. You’ve been focussed on this for weeks now. So, go and do it. Go find Spider Man and at least try and bring him in for a conversation. I wanna meet him.”

With this you were leaping out of your chair and throwing your arms - rather unprofessionally - around Sam’s neck. He chuckled in response, lightly patting your back.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” You exclaimed in a rush to get the words out, grateful for your Captain to show some faith in you. “You won’t regret this!”

“I hope not.” He warned. “Now get planning, I want an update in a week.”

***

Finding Spider Man was relatively easy. From your research you managed to work out that he must have some connection with the police department as every time they were alerted to a crime, he seemed to appear. Getting a police radio was also easy, the NYPD couldn’t exactly object to approval from Captain America himself. 

A signed warrant from Sam was exchanged for a radio and you waited it out to pick up something so you could intercept your target.

You had selected a late Tuesday night for your recruitment mission and had invited Joaquin Torres along as back-up. All geared up in your mission suit, you sat atop a building waiting for an update on your radio while linked up to Torres on the ground.

“I mean, how do you go from fighting Thanos to waiting for petty crimes to happen?” Joaquin asked you over comms.

“Maybe he had an existential crisis.” You laughed back.

It was bitingly cold and there was a soft crunch in the snow beneath your boots. The wind seemed to howl aggressively around you. Honestly, only idiots would leave the warmth of home on a night like this. Or people on a mission.

Although, the cold seemed to bring with it more hazy visions of the brunette man. You swore you could smell cheap coffee and doughnuts as you thought about the man taking off his scarf to wrap it round you, revealing the ugly Christmas jumper he’d had on underneath which was forest green and emblazoned with a snowman. Suddenly, it didn’t feel so cold anymore.

The radio murmured as a report came through of a robbery a few blocks from where you were. Whilst crime wasn’t actually something an avenger should root for; you couldn’t contain your excitement at the possibility of meeting your favourite superhero.

“Ready to get some robbers, Torres?” You smiled a bit too happily as you launched a zipwire to transport yourself from building to building.

 “Well, it’s not what I trained for in the army but I’m up for anything these days.” He responded before stepping on the gas in one of the Compound’s most discreet jeeps.

In the distance, you spied a figure in a red and blue suit making their way towards the bank. You swallowed thickly, feeling as though your heart was threatening to propel itself up into your mouth. After the months of research and the unexplained mystery, this was it.

You managed to land on the roof of the building where he was standing, ready to make his next move. Sensing you immediately, the vigilante turned round to face you and his eye details on his mask comically widened. He stood frozen in front of you, looking down at the webshooters on his wrists before back at you with caution, as though he was reluctant to use them on you.

He recognised you.

“Don’t worry about the robbery, my associate will deal with that. I just want to talk.” You announced and made a step towards him with your hand reached out to shake.

His recoil was automatic as he edged backwards to avoid your touch. A frown painted your features, shocked by his standoffish nature. The intensity of feeling he had given you was so great that you hadn’t considered that he would not automatically reciprocate it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bombard your patrol.” You started, trying to compose yourself and conceal any hint of embarrassment. “I’m an Avenger, and Captain America wants to meet you.”

“Sam Wilson?” He asked in a peculiarly sweet voice; the sound of which triggered the tightening in your chest and produced ringing in your ears. Suddenly, the void in you started to deepen, which only furthered your earlier frustrations. Why was he so important?

“Exactly.” It was the only answer you were capable of producing.

“He’ll be a good Captain America.” Spider Man responded. “But I can’t go back there.”

“Why?” You demanded, becoming impatient with his enigmatic nature. Every single instinct in your body told you to push this, to not let him away without the answers to questions you weren’t quite sure of yet.

In that moment, nothing else mattered except getting to know this masked man.

“I am not gonna be an Avenger again.” He stated with certainty and he continued to edge back, reaching his arm out and you knew what he was planning to do.

The web that was shot from his wrist didn’t make it very far as you lunged forward and brought him to the ground. The wind was clearly knocked out of him but he put his hands on your shoulders to try and push you off and escape. He struggled against you with groans but not with very much force. It was like he was determined not to harm you. All he wanted was to get away from you.

Evidently, he knew you well enough to not want to hurt you. Worryingly, despite how hard you tried, you couldn’t remember him.

“Who are you?!” You yelled at him. Professionalism had fallen by the wayside at this point. No longer on an Avengers mission, you were on a quest for answers about the gap in your soul only he could answer.

His hands were still on your shoulders, keeping you at arm’s length from him as he squirmed beneath you without hurting you. He was entirely capable of it. One shot from his wrist and he could have launched you off of him and have gotten away in seconds. When he didn’t answer your question, you reached up for his mask to pull it off.

Then he said it.

“Y/N, STOP!” He yelled at you. The sound of your name falling from his lips made you wince. Once careful hands became shaky and your tightened chest now felt as though it had been ripped open and left to bleed out in front of him. It was so familiar and intimate but at the same time, felt a million miles away because you couldn’t understand why this would be so significant.

You stared at each other in a stale mate, ready to see who would make the first move. He visibly softened when he saw the tears form in your eyes, ready to fall.

“You know me.” You said eventually, leaning back to sit on your knees next to him. “How do you know my name?"

Spider Man sat up, leaning back on his palms. No longer was he looking round for an escape option. Instead, he appeared conflicted and stuck. His only response was an attempt to start answering your question but eventually giving up and sighing, turning his face to look away from you.

Even though his spidey senses alerted him to your next move, he seemed resigned to his position when you successfully reached over and pulled the mask off. It revealed the brunette man from your memories, except now his face was clear as day. It was him though, and the images of him lying on your chest expanded where he’d look up at you and you’d laugh together over something silly. The sweet man who’d scrunched his face up with laughter in your memory was now reduced to the forlorn one before you.

He was so handsome, but at the same time had a dullness behind his eyes that signified how he carried the weight of the world. The friendly neighbourhood Spider Man with extraordinary abilities was simultaneously so defenceless in your presence.

Tear filled and regretful eyes met yours in a stare that was impossible to break. The man offered a sympathetic but pained smile. There was an overwhelming need deep inside you to reach forward and comfort him. Something told you that he might need it.

“I know you.” You whispered. “I know you but I don’t know where from.”

Immediately, the tears that had been kept back from the brim started to cascade down his face. His face grimaced in unimaginable pain and he hauled his legs to his chest, dipping his head in his knees. Racked with sobs, his whole body shuddered and you contemplated if you had ever seen someone so vulnerable before.

“I think about you all the time, I don’t know why.” You offered but it didn’t seem to help matters. “How do you know me? How do we know each other?”

“I can’t tell you.” He said with a broken voice, still hiding his face from you. “It’s too dangerous.”

“But we clearly mean a lot to each other!” You retaliated. “You could have easily beaten me in that fight and have gotten away by now, but you didn’t. You recognised me as soon as you saw me. Please! I’m so tired of people thinking I’m crazy over this. There’s something about you and I just can’t let it go.”

“You have to.” He replied gruffly, mustering the strength to raise to his feet and retrieving his mask from you. Powerless, you remained rooted to the floor, seemingly unable to stop him as he brushed past your arm and made his way to swing off the building.

“Goodbye, Y/N.”

There was something about the way he touched your arm and said your name that sent an electric shock through you. It was as though a part of your brain had been unplugged but now there was power again; switching on the memories that gradually seeped through. It inspired the straightening of your posture and the rolling of your shoulders. You turned round to him, uncertain why but with a desperation in your stomach to say the next thing that came from your lips.

“P-Peter?”

If the world had stopped at that moment, neither of you would have noticed it. The man spun round to meet your eyes again but this time, despite the tears still streaming from his eyes, he had a face full of hope. For too long he had been sitting in the darkness, suffocated by the weight of his own loneliness. But you came along and with you brought a flickering candle, ready to pull him into the light again.

“What did you say?” He whispered, praying and pleading internally that he hadn’t made that up, that his mind wasn’t playing a cruel trick on him. If you’d remembered him, he’d allow himself to come back to you.

“Peter.” You said again with a deep exhale, pointing to your head. “That’s all I keep hearing in my head. Peter Parker… that’s you, isn’t it? You’re my Peter.”

Without warning, Peter lunged towards you and pulled you into a tight embrace. He buried his face in your neck, brushing his lashes along your skin as he squeezed his eyes shut, letting the tears fall against your skin and suit. It felt natural when you put your arms round him and held him close.

His scent, his breathing, the definable features of his face pressed against your neck all pieced together the remaining shards of information that you had been inexplicably robbed of.

“You were mine before. Weren’t you? I lost my memory.” You mumbled to him as you held him close, getting the sense that this was the first time in a long time that he’d been hugged. "You gave me your scarf when I was cold once, and you had that ridiculous Christmas sweater. Remember?"

He winced at the memory you shared, affording himself the opportunity to let you in again. Truthfully, he'd been so terrified about putting you in danger and losing you that he hadn't accustomed himself to the fact that he already had lost you. He was fighting against that which was his current reality.

“I was yours. And you were mine.” He confirmed, letting his hands roam your back as if getting used to your body again. "And I like that sweater!"

“Why has everyone tried to keep us apart?”

“No one remembers me, that was the deal I made with Doctor Strange. No one would remember Peter Parker, it saved the world.” He explained sadly and gave you a squeeze. Although, it wasn’t the full story, you accepted it at face value. Eventually, he’d tell you everything but you had all the time in the world for that. You had just gotten him back and you weren’t going to let him go again.

“That was a stupid deal.” You laughed through a choked sob, running your fingers through his soft brown curls. His contented hum told you that this was something you had done before.

“Yeah, it was.” He laughed, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek which made your stomach flip. “I was really hoping you’d figure it out. I missed you.”

The feeling of his lips on you was something you craved again. You leaned back, letting your fingers tangle in his hair and pulled him in for a deep kiss. His hands planted on your waist and pulled you intently, as though he was trying to mould you both into one person. Lord knows, you might as well be with the connection that you undoubtedly shared.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the way the beating of your heart went into overdrive and how it thumped in your chest so hard he would no doubt feel it where he had pulled your body close to his. You had no idea just how much you had been missing up until now. Earlier theories and memories now contextualised and validated, you began to feel the void in your chest heal and feel full again.

Foreheads met and Peter pressed several pecks to your lips making you both laugh just as you had done in your memory. Your arms wrapped round his neck to achieve as much contact with him as possible, having missed him touching you for so long.

“I knew I was right about you.” You beamed as you pulled back from the kiss, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone lovingly. “I remember it now, Peter.”

Both of you exchanged a sad look in acknowledgement of the time together you’d been robbed of. Whilst the greater good demanded it, there was a particular cruelty in ripping apart two souls so intertwined with each other. Perhaps, the overlap would explain that which kept you so connected to him. Or maybe fate was just on your side.

Either way, you had endured the preview of what existence without each other entailed and neither of you were prepared to go through that again.

“How did you figure it out? I mean, what was it that made you just keep thinking of me?” He asked in a comfortable whisper, having no intention of pulling back from the embrace any time soon. You smiled in response, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“There was just something about you.”

[yns-world]

3:31 am.

"i'm sorry, baby."

y/n ran her black claws across peter's masked face, caressing his cheeks.

he was powerless against her touch, and he went still as he burned each second into his mind. that was all he could do in this game of cat and mouse— she would give him a taste and then run away.

and like actors reciting a scene by heart, y/n pulled up peter's mask to reveal his lips. but before she could plant her final remark, peter pulled off his entire mask and took her face into his hands, pouring all of his soul's love and affection into that kiss.

if you enjoyed this, please reblog. we all know that likes don't do anything to help a creator.

read my pinned post for request and comission rules :)

[yourimagines]

Sub!Peter ParkerxTopMaleReader (Tom Holland)

[After events of NWH]

Peter Parker got a job at the Daily Bugle selling photos of "Spider-Man" and quickly became the company's top photographer. Now Peter travels in a van with his companion M/n, exploring New York City for story ideas. However, Peter experiences a creative block. M/n tries to help by making dinner at his apartment and buying some wine. As the wine takes effect, a sexual tension builds between them, and they eventually give in to their desires for each other.

This one gave me to be honest anxiety, I really needed my time to write for this one, I really hope you like it, I tried my ultimate best to make this a good one.

Wine and Dine

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: 18+, smut! fluff

Peter POV

We were driving through New York. “I’m out off ideas.” I said with a big sighed. “What about we go to my place and relax a bit?” I shrugged my shoulders. “Come on Parker, you need some time to think and relax, you haven’t had the time to do that, you’re always working.” I looked at him. “Okay, only this time.” He smiled at me. “Good now let’s go to my place then.” He told me where I could park the van and went to his place.

“Just relax, I’ve got you.” He was standing in the kitchen, making some dinner. “You don’t have…” he shot me a glare before I even finished my sentence. I held my hands up. “Okay okay. I’m just going to take some glasses for the wine.” I moved away to grab two glasses and walked out of the kitchen.

We both were sitting in the living room. He sat down on the ground by the fireplace, I sat down in a lounge chair, relaxing while drinking some wine. Feeling already a bit drunk. “I always thought you and Gwen would end up as a couple.” I coughed and he started to laugh. “Easy there Parker, is not that bad.” I shook my head. “Me and Gwen?” “Yeah, why not she’s cool right?” “No way, she’s kind but I don’t see her like that.” “You don’t?” “No..” he was looking at me, his eyes traveling down. “I bet she likes you.” He looked back into my eyes. “You think?” He nodded. “Why not, you’re spider man.” I laughed. “Yeah right, nobody wants to date me, I fight against the bad guys but I’m not like Bucky and Thor.” I pointed at my arms. “You are so insecure Parker, why don’t you just for once let people close to you.” He moved carefully to my seat, sitting I front of me. The fire was reflecting on his skin, making him glow, looking like a god. I felt my heart started to beat faster.

His hands carefully tracing down my legs. I started to feel a bit dizzy as my breathing began to slow down down and got deeper. “Are you okay?” He looked up at me, I nodded. “You sure? We don’t have to you know.” “ I know, I just don’t like the teasing part.” He smirks at me. “Okay, just use your words yeah.” “Okay.” His hands move up to my knees and slightly pulled me off the chair right on top of him. I grabbed his shoulders Incase I would fall. His hands travel up to my face, tracing with his thumb over my lips. His other hand travels to the back of my head, tangling his fingers into my hair. I looked at his lips. ‘God, he’s hot.’ Before my brain could even progress what he was doing he crashed his lips on mine. I kissed him back, my hands going through his hair as his hands go down to my waist, slightly pushing me down on him. I moaned and he slipped his tong in my mouth. I felt his hands roaming around as I slightly pulled his hair. He leans us to the side and lays on top of me. He places his thigh between my legs. He breaks the kiss and starts to kiss along my jaw to my neck. His hands are going under by shirt as mine rest on his broad shoulders.

“Let me take this off.” He unbuttoned my shirt and throws it on the chair. His hands roam over my chest. “You are so fucking beautiful Parker.” I blushed at him. “Don’t get nervous now.” He placed a trail of kisses behind. Sucking my neck, as his hand went down to my pants. “Okay, I do need to tell you I never done this before.” He smiled at me. “That’s okay, just talk to me yeah?” I nodded. “Yeah, just be careful.” He unbuckled my belt and pulled my jeans down. “I’ll be careful.” He slowly pulled my boxers down. Revealing me completely. “Already hard i see.” He carefully strokes my boner. I softly moaned his name. “You like that?” I hummed at him. “Words Peter.” “Yes.” I started to move my hips, causing more friction against my boner. “Not so fast.” He stopped and moved his hand away, I whined out. I looked at him as he takes off his sweater. Revealing his muscular body. Broad shoulders, abs and muscular arms. Looking like a god, looking down at me. “We are just getting started Parker.”

We were both naked as I lay down on my stomach. “You sure.” He asked while tracing his fingers along my back. “I’m sure” I felt him grabbing my waist and pulling me closer. I was getting tired and the alcohol in my blood made it even worse. “I’ll stop if it hurst to much.” Then I felt a sharp pain. I grabbed a random pillow and hissed. “I know, it does get better.” I felt him slowly moving. “Why are you so big.” He chuckled. I felt him grabbing my hand and guided it to my boner. “Pump yourself, makes it way more good when you cum.” I did what he told me and started to move my hand. He placed a trail of kisses behind along my shoulders while moving in and out. I started to moan his name as he started the dirty talk.

I was a total mess. I lay down on the floor, covered In sweat and sperm. “Are you okay?” I nodded, way to tired to talk. “Let me clean you up.” He picked me up and brought me to the bathroom. “I’ve made a bath for you.” He carefully placed me in the bathtub. Warm water hits my sensitive skin. I hissed At the contact. He joined also, sitting behind me. “Let me help you.” His hands moved to my shoulders and massages them, placing kisses on my neck. “Relax, I’ve got you.” I closed my eyes again and leaned a bit back against him.

I woke up in bed, laying against his chest. I rolled away to look at the clock on his nightstand. 04:00. Way to early. I rolled back to him and closed my eyes. The alcohol was almost out of my system and I still felt the same. Maybe it is time to let people close. I snuggled a bit closer and fell slowly back to sleep.

[yona049]

𝕄𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕖𝕝 𝕆'𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕩 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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Disclaimer!!!

>This part contains some violence that might be too intense for some readers. Reader discretion is very much advised.

>violence and emotional distress

>depiction of graphic violence

>ptsd

>stabbing (chest wound)

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𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩𓆩🕸️𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪𓆪

~1 year ago ~

Y/n was slumped on the couch in the apartment. Gabrion comfortably laying on her chest with his head in her Neck. He was now barely 3 months old.

A tired single mom took Y/n by surprise, she wasn't expecting it to be as hard as it was. With her and Miguel's stable income over the years, Y/n had enough funds to stay afloat for a while without work.

She hadn't told Miguel she was pregnant before he died, which meant that she gave birth only a few months after his death.

She delicately traces small circles on her sleeping babies cheek.

"Miguel, if only you could've seen our squishy babies face, you'd practically never leave his side." the thought of watching Miguel as a dad made her smile.

Quietly she stood up and walked back to the crib and sat little Gabrion down. Leaving him with a delicate kiss on his head she walked back down the hallway.

Walking through the holographic wall, she found herself in the room with all Miguel's suits and her self made red suit.

She looked down at her fist then clenched it tightly.

"I know I shouldn't have taken the serum when I was pregnant, but there's no excuse now."

She walks to the desk, crouches down to a drawer in the desk.

An eye scanner makes quick work of Y/n's eye and the drawer opens. A small burst of smoke leaks from the drawer onto the ground as Y/n takes hold of a green liquid tube.

She brings it up to her arm with her sleeve pulled off her shoulder. A small hesitation stops her for a split second before she places the cold metal onto her skin.

Getting it over quickly she hits the button making the syringe blast spider serum into her veins. Steadying herself with a hand on the desk she yells in pain.

Her pupils dilate suddenly and her mouth opens to two fangs growing from her canines.

Breathing heavily she drops the syringe and looks down at her hand on the table. Claws had punctured the surface of the desk.

"Well that's new?"

As if on cue, Lyla appeared to explain.

"The first time you took the Serum it didn't have much effect, mostly because at the time there were two bodies to share the serum, yours and Gabrion. Another reason being Miguel didn't just use the serum."

Y/n Sighs.

"I know, he had the entirety of Alchemax's chemicals and machinery to try and fry himself half to death!"

"Exactly! But since then he's refined it, Miguel didn't need to take it as frequently as you do. His situation was more permanent, while you've only taken it twice. And it can wear off!"

Y/n takes the vile from the ground and rolls it back and forth in her palm.

If she wanted to keep protecting the city and Gabrion, she'd need to take the serum constantly.

~back to present ~

The next month slipped by fast. Y/n would go home to check up on Gabrion every so often but often had a baby sitter to watch him while she was in the spider society base.

Throughout the entire month, she tried to be near Miguel as much as she could, slowly getting addicted to the feeling of warmth she felt with him.

She watched missions, studying techniques the other Spiders used. Also watching other anomalys get captured and brought back to headquarters.

"For this one I'll take chica roja. (Red girl)" Miguel said watching the anomaly alert on the headquarters monitor .

Hobie nudges Y/n's arm pulling her from her thoughts.

"I think thats you, mate."

Y/n is immediately stiff and quickly protests.

"Wait! I'm not experienced! I literally just got used to being in this dimension!"

Miguel looks her right in the eyes though the mask and she swallows heavily.

In a second he shoots a web in her direction, she's quick to jump to the side out of the way, followed by continues back flips knowing Miguel's webs can turn corners.

Once the web hits a crate she jumped behind she does a perfect summersault and lands on her feet.

"See." Miguel's deep voice makes her jump.

She looks back to see she'd landed inches in front of Miguel, his folded arms almost touching her back.

"You'll be fine." he turns away giving the blush a moment to crawl up Y/n's cheeks. His voice still tickling her ears.

"Here, this will be your official enlisting." Y/n looks down at the official Dimension Travel watch in Miguel's hands.

'A Mission with me and Miguel alone.' she thought.

Looking back at Gwen and Jess, they give her a thumbs up letting Y/n feel a little bit of relief.

"Will this mission be a long one?" she questioned while swapping out the day pass watch out for the permanent one.

"No, They usually aren't."

He walks to the side and opens a portal to the earth with the anomaly on it.

"You coming?"

An excitement bubbles though Y/n's body for her first mission causing her to skip a little when she jumps head first into the portal.

A very small giggle comes from Miguel as he watches her goofy excitement. He follows right behind her closing the portal.

After they'd left Hobie stood dumbfounded before blinking a few times. "Did that old bloke just have a chuckle, or am I imagining things?"

Gwen and Jess knowingly, fall into a Laughing fit leaving Hobie with more questions.

On the other earth, Y/n lands on a typical Spider-man pose and Miguel appeared behind her.

They landed in a foggy rocky plains with small huts built on the sides of the cliffs. They seemed to be quite high up on a mountain top.

"According to Lyla, this is an Indigenous universe. Our anomaly is close. Be Careful!"

Y/n nods before the mask retracts its from around her ears.

Miguel lifts his eyebrow.

"What are you-"

"Shh!!" Y/n puts her hand over his mouth.

"Spider-bat taught me this."

Miguel pinches her tiny wrist compared to his and pulls it off her mouth. Y/n was too deeply focused she didn't notice Miguel's thumb rubbing over her hand before letting go.

Using Spider-bat's advice, Y/n listens closely to the echoing sounds of rocks falling and overall cool atmosphere trying to hear something. She gasps and her mask covers her ears back up.

"There! I might be wrong but, I hear electricity?"

Miguel nods and the sound gets closer. From the foggy plain a few bright zaps of electricity, coming off a large black goop.

"¡Mierda!" Miguel swears

"It's a venom."

Y/n bites her lip and nods. "An electric venom. Looks like this venom's body is made from a electric conductor."

Miguel jumps to action quickly, shooting a web in Venom's direction.

Venom is quick to stretch his body to the side avoiding the web then sending his arms stretched out to grab Miguel. Miguel jumps high enough to avoid Venom's grasp.

Running up to Venom, Y/n delivers a elegant side kick into venom's jaw, which he dodges then quickly grabs Y/n's leg with his tongue.

Y/n shudders at the gross slimy feeling and she's slammed into the rocky ground.

Making use of his speed, Miguel uses his talons and cuts right through Venom's extended tongue.

Y/n waits till he passes between them, then kicks Venom in the face.

Flying back Venom screeches in pain when his tongue drips with black blood. Seconds after tho, his tongue grows back earning a small chuckle from Venom.

Y/n growls looking around for another plan.

'We need to tie down the host, then, we could immobilize Venom!'

"Miguel! Catch!"

She shoots her web toward him which he catches like a rope.

He tries to figure out what she's trying to do, only to realize after she ran around Venom on the far side of Miguel.

He smirks and does the same, running around Venom and jumping over Y/n's crossed lines.

Venom let's out one last dramatic yell before it fades into Eddie Brock's voice. This Eddie had glowing robot like eyes and glowing electric veins.

Dusting off her hands she laughs at their victory until Miguel clears his throat.

He lifts his hands that are unfortunately still stuck to the spiderweb causing Y/n to laugh and use her claws to free him.

They both look at Eddie who has fallen to his knees. Miguel's mask dissappears and a happy smirk appeares.

"Well, for a first mission, that was pretty good, Mariposa."

Y/n's body freezes with her head looking down.

"What did you call me?"

Miguel looked down confused at his own words. Turning to the front Y/n with Eddie behind him.

He looks at her once again with very unsure eyes, like he was working it out, or maybe he was finally confirming the suspicions he didn't realize he'd been avoiding.

Looking down at Y/n he lifts his hand to her cheek guiding her face to look at him.

"You can't be-"

A sudden splatter of blood hit Y/n's face when Miguel's eyes widen to look down at the spike formed from Venom's goop sticking out of his chest.

Y/n suddenly saw that night in their living room again, Miguel's eyes loosing life and his mouth leaking blood, a hole in his chest she wasn't able to keep pressure on because her strength left her arms.

Miguel fell to the side when venom forms back around Eddie, the webbing slipping off the slippery body.

Y/n felt her heartbeat in her throat and ears, this couldn't happen, not again!

Y/n's claws appeared on her fingertips and she lunged forward toward her enemy. Black goop flying through the air in tiny bits as Y/n clawed her enemy into bits.

Shrieking from Venom mixed with Eddie's screams when her claws hooked onto his ribcage and ripped it from his body.

Miguel lay on the ground watching with blurry vision. Lyla talking to him was barely audible.

A storm was brewing on the mountain top and rain started falling and then pouring.

Finally Y/n stood over a mutilated body with bloody claws and a heaving body.

A blurry orange portal appeared before Miguel loses his consciousness completely.

"Y/n! Y/N!"

Jess Yells finally getting Y/n's attention.

She watches a few Spiders carry Miguel off on a stretcher and tries to run to him.

Jess stops her immediately with a hand on her chest.

"Y/n, we... We need to get that off you first."

Y/n looks down at her hands, not only blood, but bits of symbiote that could easily infect another host, Miguel just because he's vulnerable!

She stumbles back a bit, not looking away from her hands before starting to tear up, realizing what she'd done.

"Jess, I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!"

Jess quickly cups her face stopping her ramble then gives her a reassuring smile. Y/n drops her hands to her sides and Jess brings her into a comforting hug.

[sleepycreamcola]

Okay but when Miguel got on all fours for a hot second in that close up shot I was visibly shaken. I probably shouldn’t be admitting this but my ass fucking shivered. I was- oof, I am- oh boy, I’m sweatin y’all.

[writers-ex]

tangled in your web: a spider-itzy tale

hey guys hannie here ^^ after hearing and seeing about one edit someone sent me @monkeyryunnie I debated and made the rough draft to make a choose your story featuring two special ladies in itzy 🤭 this will be uploaded soon but enjoy the introduction post for our story~

fem reporter!reader x spider!itzy

warnings: g!p itzy, degrading, praise, breeding, exhibition kink, blood and fighting mentioned, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talking and teasing, one night stand (?), some cursing, spelling errors

Blowing on a sheet of paper you stare blankly at the wall with your head resting on the desk. It’s been four days and still no word or sightings of the exclusive hero that swung around your city. As the main photographer of the daily bugle you couldn’t help but shutter at the fact that if the week finished with no photos to print you were out of a job. Closing your eyes you silently wish for something to happen when the phone across from your desk starts to ring. About to unplug it from the wall you hear the caller go to voicemail and stop in your tracks.

“Um hi…I’m calling the spidey hotline? Wow this is my first time doing something like this- anyways I think I saw a mysterious new ‘black’ spider-girl rush into the sewer after some bad guy? It’s here downtown near Midzy Street. I hope this helps? Do you think i-“ the call hangs up and your mind races. Pinpointing the area in your mind you grab your camera and are about to head out the door when your boss stops you. You’re about to open your mouth to tell him the news when he holds his hand up to stop you.

“Smiley our twitter feed just blew up with a sighting upstate of the red freak fighting some flying bozo on the JYP skyscraper. If you take the company scooter you can be there in no less than half an hour. Now get to it!” Pushing you out of the office you bite your tongue from giving him sass for that horrible nickname he always called you as you stepped into the elevator. Going down your mind debates on what to do- you can either follow that tip you heard on your colleague’s voicemail with the black spider-woman or listen to your boss and rush upstate to the sighting of the red spider-woman. Exiting the elevator you head out the door and-

head upstate to find the red spidey

rush downtown to meet the black spidey

[miguelswifey04]

miguel o’hara x shy! wife hcs

-very cute/fluffy/suggestive!!

minimal words spoken, you give short curt phrases but you are literally a woman of a few words <3 your actions speak louder than words

always writing him love letter or leaving cute love notes scattered all over the apartment to let miguel know how much you dearly love him since you find yourself struggling to be more verbal about it (you try and it works with time)

miguel writes back on the cute love notes you leave around the house such as “thank you mi hermosa preciosa” “eres mi mundo y mi reina” “yo te amo mucho!” just sweet affirmations

sometimes you stumble on your words or stutter a bit when you tell miguel how much you love him & he finds it cute when you do that, he’ll slightly squish your cheeks or cup your face to plant a kiss on your lips which turns you into a blushing mess 🧞‍♀️

you LOVEEE writing so you always write him poems or haikus, and you either read them out loud to him or have him read them while you’re both cuddling in bed together

every time the you’re around other spider people (you’re a non-spider person) they always asks how you fell for miguel since he seems like a totally different person at work but you tell them he’s actually a sweetheart he just needs to warm up to others & he’ll eventually open up slowly

cute little picnic dates whether it is at the park or the rooftop of a building miguel had taken you too

when he isn’t busy he’ll suit up and hold you by the waist as he swings through the city !! your guys favorite pastime together and you get to stargaze together 🔭

very outspoken when you’re excited about something and miguel cherishes that side of you even though you’re very much a quiet/reserved person :3

nsfw: miguel cages your head while he fucks you because you tend to be a blabbing/whimpering mess while you avoid eye contact so he does that because he loves seeing your face contort in pleasure. “please, i need to see you when i’m in you, mi vida..”

he will hold your chin in place so you don’t look away because he needs to see you and he loves seeing your face, so don’t be shy!!

spooning, missionary, mating press, or riding him are very intimate positions that you and miguel enjoy very much <33

he actually praises and worships you a lot, he will rarely degrade you but when he does it’s just soft dirty talking—he’s never said anything vulgar to you because you’re not that into it & that’s okay!

miguel’s safe space is you 🧘🏽‍♀️🫶🏽

tags 🏷️!! @kairiscorner @emiemiemiii @meeom @sabcandoit @obi-mom-kenobi

[hanjisunglover]

003. 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

002. <- 003.

author note: sorry y'all! I needed a big break and the only thing that I was able to think about for finishing this mini series was this, I'm sorry! also, there's a time skip - about five months after y/n talked with jisung, also it doesn't have a specific theme; it's more like randoms tweets

TAGLIST -@binnies-binna @ihrtlix @yeahsspider @p0eticjust1c3 @manuosorioh @hanjsquokka @boi-bi-ahaha @im-sinking-in-mud @weareapackofstrays @dprkbyn @cupidcures @i2nsstuff @xtegannoelx @lyramundana @catiuskaa @kpopsstuffs @xxstrayland @tiapatito202278ok

[annieoncrack]

spider-man kiss with akaashi keiji

akaashi x gnreader, just a cute lil idea ;)

“okay I’m getting off,” you said, carefully jumping off the monkey bars that were meant for toddlers.

you both often spent time after practise at the park near the school. usually you both would sit on the park bench but today you decided to take the monkey bars since none of the kids were hanging around there.

“the sun just started setting,” the boy lightly chuckled. “come on it’s not even that uncomfortable.”

“my butt disagrees,” you shook your head, turning to look at the boy who just rolled his eyes playfully.

gosh. he’s so beautiful.

a year into your relationship and a single action could still make the butterflies go feral. 

golden hour was slowly ending and parents started calling out to their children, telling them that it was time to go home. but right now it felt like the day had started all over again.

“you’re so pretty,” you tell him and a faint blush appeared at the tip of his ears. 

“thank you,” he shyly smiled down at you. “so are you.”

just as you were about to say something silly you realised the elevation and an idea popped into your head.

“you don’t get dizzy when you hang upside down right?” you questioned him and he shrugged.

“ive never really thought about it but i dont think so.”

“ok. hang upside down.”

he wanted to ask a follow up question but decided to trust you based on the look on your face. when he was hanging from the bars in such a way that perfectly aligned his face to yours you smiled widely.

“ok close your eyes,” you said excitedly and akaashi just obliged.

you take a second to stare at his features from this angle. his soft ruffled hair gravitated to the ground and his pink lips looked kinda funny but so kissable.

finally, you placed your cold hands on his cheeks and brushed your lips against his. it didnt take him long to follow and deepen the kiss and instinctively he brought his hands upwards to cup your cheeks but was met with nothing due to his position.

you both let out a soft laugh, your heads resting on the others chin. “for someone so smart you can be silly at times.”

“oh really,” he challenged. “you try hanging upside down and then we’ll see.”

the playful glint in his eyes and hot breath fanning over your face made you grin.

“you’re on.”

[nubimera]

Idk, I guess I need to share my headcanons on Miguel x MJ-variant Reader with someone, because they are precious to me

•Miguel and MJ/Reader have been in school together since elementary school, but they didn't start talking until their second year of high school

•Because: Lab partners!

•Miguel as a teenager was a concentrate of constant embarrassment and inability to talk to people. The kind of boy who has always been puny and who at puberty becomes practically a mountain with legs and a voice lower than a basement but who has yet to get used to the change

•The fact is that he and MJ/Reader become friends during chemistry class

•If you sucked at chemistry like me, imagine this: Miguel proposing to help MJ/Reader study, and therefore they start spending time even outside school hours

•Bonus point if during high school MJ/Readers were interested in theatre/musical/music/art in general, because Miguel went to see every single exhibition/show. FOR SURE

•Akward teen-Miguel in the audience watching his crush perform just became my reason for living

•To be honest also Mj/Reader who goes to prom with Miguel as friends, but they are both so crushed on each other that they practically look like a couple

•However as he grew up and started college Miguel began to gain much more self-confidence. Still a dork, but less awkward

•He and MJ/Reader keep in touch even during college time, and it's probably when they start dating as well

•There is no great declaration of love, just the relationship between them that evolves in such a natural way that it slowly turns into a romantic relationship. Soft, soft babies

•Btw MJ/Reader was the first canon event of Miguel's Spider-Man life