spider noir fics

Request: Would you do Indiana Jones x reader where you’re one of his students at the university? Maybe he takes you on an adventure with him as extra credit bc he likes you

Author’s Note: It’s pretty long, but I freaking love Indy, so I don’t care. I also got to use a little bit of what I remember from German class in here, so that’s pretty cool :) Enjoy!

  You looked at the situation collapse even deeper in conflict with a strangled sigh lurching up your throat. Your heart pounded. Eyes locking with Dr. Jones, you wondered if this was even worth getting the extra credit.

  Heck yeah, it was.

Spider Noir X Reader

look- I- I just need this- I’m sure other people do, to– (This slowly developed into a lime like thing. Which wasn’t my intention. But it happened. So uh, Lime warning I guess?)]

You walked home, more tired than ever. Having the night shift wasn’t fun. You started at four, and didn’t get off until eleven at night. You were simply tired.

You opened your door and nearly screeched when you came face to face with your recent boyfriend, Noir. “God dang it, Noir… You scared the sh*t out of me!” You said, annoyed. He was hanging up side down from your ceiling, his face was probably a centimeter away from the door. “Sorry, Doll…” He mumbled, averting his now guilty eyes from you. “Noir,” He didn’t look at you, instead he was fixated on the floor. You sighed before doing the one thing that would get him to look at you.

You pulled down his mask so it was just under his nose and kissed his lips softly. You felt one of his hands begin to go through your hair before stopping behind your head. “You’re such a dork.” You chuckled after pulling away. “You’re rubbing off on me.” Noir lightly laughed. “How dare you.” You said in a joking manner before he flipped right side up. He was now holding you against his chest, the door shut. He put his head inbetween your shoulder and head, rubbing your neck with his head. “I missed you, Doll.” He whispered.

“You think I didn’t miss you, too?” You giggled as you felt his cold goggles rub against your neck. “I know, but still..” He mumbled, holding you closer. “How about we lay down or something? My legs feel like jelly.” You said. It wasn’t a lie, either. Your legs literally felt like they were jiggling. “Fine, fine.” Noir replied. Next thing you knew, he was holding you bridle-style, carrying you to your room. You both technically shared one, or two rather, but due to the different dimensions, your rooms were practically labeled. You wished so hard he could stay forever, you in his arms for the rest of eternity. Your safe haven.

You felt yourself get laid onto the bed, and the rustle of a bunch of fabrics. Probably Noir’s mask, goggles, trench coat, vest, and hat. God, he wears a lot of clothes. You felt the bed shift as he laid next to you. His arms wrapped around you, and you pressed yourself against him as close as you could. “I wish it could be like this forever.” You mumbled, rubbing your head against his chest. “You think I don’t?” Noir chuckled, kissing your forehead. You wanted more affection than that. You needed more affection than that. You hadn’t gotten this kind of affection in months, you needed it. You felt like you deserved it.

You wrapped your hands around Noir’s neck before kissing him softly… at least it started that way. You were flipped onto your stomach, now ontop of Noir, who was now laying on his back; his legs were imbetween yours, your legs were practically wrapped around his. The kiss became more intense before becoming a full make-out session. You both needed air, which was the only reason you had pulled away. “That was unexpected.” Noir chuckled. You laughed a bit before getting an idea. “Wish it could’ve lasted longer… Peter.” You whispered in his ear, and you could practically feel the heat illuminating from his face, which made you quietly giggle.

“Oh, that’s it.” Noir/Peter said mischievously. He flipped the both of you over so he was ontop of you. He began nibbling on your neck, which made you blush immensely. “N-Noir, don’t– Ah!” He continued to bite and lick your neck, which made you quietly moan. You tilted your head to give him more room, which he took to his advantage. A moment later, you could tell he had left more than one ‘mark’. You hoped they weren’t too obvious and you could hide them. Maybe you could borrow Noir’s turtleneck sweater. He’d probably enjoy seeing that.

Once he pulled away from your probably now hickey-covered neck, you immediately collided your lips with his again. This kiss was less rough than the last one, but had the same ammount of passion, if not more. Or maybe it was lust, because it was basically another make-out session. Hell if you knew. Once the both of you pulled away this time, a strand of saliva connected your tongues. “Was that the attention you were lookin’ for, Doll?” Noir chuckled, causing your face to heat up more. “Oh, shu-shush.” You mumbled, causing him to chuckle even more. “Can- Can we sleep?” You asked, now flustered that he could practic– no, probably literally sensed that you were seeking his attention and that’s how things got so heated. “Sure, Doll.” He responded, getting off of you. You were pressed against him, he was holding you, and then you both fell asleep.

[↓Bonus↓]

“I wonder what his reaction is going to be.” You giggled to yourself as you slipped on Noir’s grey-ish black, turtleneck sweater. You managed to slip out of his grip, and slip his sweater off without him waking up. Oh, this would be gold. The sweater was too big for you, and it covered your thighs, so you wore extremely short shorts, so it looked like you weren’t wearing anything besides the sweater. “Doll?” You heard him call.

You walked into the living room, where a topless Noir was standing. He turned around to see you, looking as if you were wearing only his sweater. His face went a dark grey color [y'know, because he’s black/white] as he saw your seemingly bare thighs. You walked up to him and whispered to him, “I’m all yours, Peter Parker.”

Eloped {SV! Spider-man Noir x Reader}

A/N: Here you go! Instead of engaged, I put they eloped and I’m not really sure if I made them like super protective, more like looking out for reader? idk. I hope that’s okay! Hope you like it ❤️(Also sorry this is late)

Word count: 1470

Warnings: None, uh some curse words but nothing crazy. 

*Gif not mine* (Also…hands…just look at em…LOOK!)

*******

You noticed Peter’s nervous demeanor as his fingers were tapping the steering wheel and he was bouncing up and down. 

“You good babe?” You ask not looking at him, but looking at your wedding ring with a small smile on your face, it was rare to see him nervous so this was kinda entertaining for you. 

With the two of you getting eloped and not telling either of your families, you both decided it was time to tell them. 

You both told Aunt May first, she was sad she couldn’t see the two of you on the altar, but she was happy for the two of you nonetheless. 

Peter did a double take looking at you, “Yeah, I’m fine!,” He turned his attention back to the road. 

“What makes you think I’m nervous?” Peter asks shrugging his shoulders. 

You finally turn to him with a smug smile, leaning your head against the headrest, “I didn’t say you were.” 

Peter sighed in defeat and muttered under his breath, “Shit.”

You put your hand on his leg. “You don’t have to be nervous… My family isn’t going to kill you,” 

You could tell Peter calmed down a bit. 

“I mean they could, they’re like a mini army but they wouldn’t do that” You added. 

Peter tensed up, “If you think you’re helping, you’re not doing much.” 

“Honey, calm down. Worrying more is going to make it worse.” You told him. 

“Y/N, I’ve met your family once, and that was when we first started dating. I haven’t seen them since, and now we got secretly married and they don’t know about it! They don’t even know if we’re still together!” Peter explained as he stopped at a red light. 

“First of all, they know we’re still together, and two you haven’t seen them for a while because they live too far and are always travelling. I’ve only seen them about twice last year.” You told him. 

“They are going to love you, because I love you.” You assured him, leaning over the console and pecking his cheek. 

“Thanks babe.” He gushes. 

******

Peter pulls onto the curb, parking the car. 

You unbuckle your seatbelts and both exit the car, he comes across the front of the car and stands next to you not taking his eyes off your family home. 

“Is it too late to back out?” He asks not turning to you. 

“Backing out is not an option, darling. Let’s go.” You pull him toward the house. 

“Please, Y/N! I can’t afford to embarrass myself today!” Peter tried pulling away. 

But he wasn’t pulling away strong enough because you were at the door. 

“You’re going to be okay. I promise.” You stand on your toes to kiss him softly. 

“I love you.” You caress his cheek. 

Peter grabs your hand and leans into your touch, “I love you too.” 

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds before the door opens up and at the door was your younger brother who’s face lit up when he saw you. 

“N/N!” He stepped up to you, hugging you and spinning you around. 

“Hi! Seems like someone missed me.” You giggle as he puts you down. 

“Mom’s gonna be so happy you’re here with,” Your brother looked behind you and saw Peter. 

“You…” Your brother trailed off looking Peter up and down.

“Hey, B/N…How’s the high school life treating ya? You’re a junior right?” Peter tried making the situation light. 

“I graduated. Four years ago. I was the class under yours.” B/N crosses his arms.

Peter clears his throat awkwardly, “Oh, wow well you look older!” 

“Okay! Where’s mom?” You clap your hands wanting to change the subject. 

“Come on, I can’t wait to hear what she says about this.”  B/N steps out of the way letting you and Peter walk through and closing it behind you. 

B/N leads you to the living room where half of your family was sitting. 

They were focused on whatever movie was on TV until you clear your throat and spoke up, “I hope you’re not watching (favorite movie/show) without me.” 

All the eyes in the living room turn to look at you and like a chorus, “Y/N!” 

It was like a stampede the amount of people coming toward you, that came to a group hug with your cousins, aunts and uncles. 

You were bombarded with so many questions at one time, it was hard to understand everyone.

Peter had stepped back to stand in a darker part of the room, with his hands in his pockets, and leaning against the wall, he didn’t communicate with anyone.

“Okay, Okay, everyone back up!” You heard the voice of your mother. 

The group hug quickly broke apart and your mom walked toward you. 

“Let me hug my favorite daughter!” She held her arms out and wrapped them around you. 

“I’m your only daughter.” You laughed. 

You could hear your mom’s quiet sniffles. 

“I missed you! You need to start coming around more! I can only take so much of your brothers.” Your mom said whispering the last part and the two of you giggling. 

You turned to Peter who was leaning against the wall. 

You grabbed him, pulling him closer to you, with one hand on his bicep and the other interlacing with his hand. 

“Mom, remember Peter-” 

“You..” Your mom narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Is he here?”

“With Y/N?” 

You hear the voices of your two aunts, your moms sisters, coming closer. 

“Mom, Aunties.” You said in a warning tone. 

“What Y/N? We just want what’s best for you.” Your Aunt Denise (idk) told you. 

“Yeah, we just want you to be happy.” Your other Aunt Elizabeth (once again idk) agreed. 

“All that matters is that they’re happy.” Your grandma spoke up from the armchair. 

You turned to her, giving her a smile, “Thanks grammy.” 

“You are happy, right Y/N?” Your grandma looked at you from above the rim of her glasses. 

You nodded, “Yes! I am. And I well we have to tell you-” 

Then your older brother came in, “Nerd!” He cheered. 

You turn around and smile at the nickname you haven’t heard in a while. 

“Loser!” You hug your brother and ruffle his hair. 

He laughs and huffs out looking at you, “You still look like shit.” He puts his hands on his hips. 

“Oh ha ha.” You rolled your eyes, playfully pushing him away. 

You turned back to your mom to speak again, “Mom before I say this I just want you to know that I love you-” 

“Did you kill someone?” Your mother asked in a non surprised tone. 

“No! Of course not…Okay me and Peter got-” 

“Oooh! Pretty ring!” One of your younger cousins walked up to you admiring  your wedding ring. 

All eyes in the room shot down to your hand, then back to you then Peter.

“Your class ring is on the wrong hand.” Your Uncle spoke up. 

“Not a class ring.” You sigh. 

“Is that my mother’s ring?” Your grandma asks trying to get a closer look. 

“No.” You shake your head. 

“…Promise ring?” Your favorite and closest cousin, Alex (*shrug*) winced not wanting to go any higher than a promise ring.

“Engagement? Please for the love of all things holy!” Your older brother begged. 

“One more.” You purse your lips. 

“A…wedding…ring?” Your mom eye twitched. 

“More like elope ring.” You chuckled trying to make someone laugh. But you failed horribly.

“You got married to him and didn’t tell me? I’m your mother! You tell me things! I don’t trust him! We don’t know anything about him or what he does! Y/N, Did you think about any of this?!” Your mother ranted. 

Before you could speak, Peter stepped up, “Now I know you all hate me and want to kick me to the curb, but for the years I’ve been with Y/N it has been the greatest years of my life, I haven’t met anyone as strong as her and she’s everything to me. Accept me or don’t. I don’t care. I’m here to stay whether you like it or not! I love Y/N and I plan on being married until the end of time.” 

What Peter said warmed your heart and brought tears to your eyes, “I love you too.” You wrapped your arms around him as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

“Please…I’m sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.” Peter looks up to your family. 

You pull apart looking at your family. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. 

Your mom took three long strides toward the two of you and hugs the both of you. 

“Welcome to the family, Peter.”

Peter’s dark eyes follow you around the room, and you can feel them like you feel the music. You step in time to the music, your body swaying to the beat. It’s one of your favorite songs, you let your eyes slip shut as you sing the words softly.

The detective’s fingers twitched, longing to wrap you in his arms and join you in a dance. He stays silent, and it’s like it’s just the two of you in the room, the rest of the spiders are background music to him. Peter sighs softly, before reaching up to pluck the dark mask from his face. When the others catch sight of this, they flash him a smile. He’d only recently started shedding the many layers he hides behind, the mask being the last one.

You miss a beat when you see his face out of the corner of your eye. Peter Benjamin Parker is beautiful, even more so with his monochrome appearance. His nose has been broken, not as many times as Peter B, but enough that it looks distinctive. Tiny scars litter his face, a small one touching his bottom lip. You wonder if you’d be able to tell it was there if you kissed him. Peter’s face is slim, his whole figure is. Living during the Great Depression has that effect on the body, and it pains you when he has to go back.

The whole spider team feeds him when he comes to visit, and you adore the dark grey blush that covers his face when he assures everyone he doesn’t need all this food. He does, and he knows it. Peter’s long fingers tap along to the music on the table where he’s seated next to Peter B. He recognizes this song, he realizes, it has a bit of a modern twist to it.

You had been gathering some snacks and handing them out to the different spider-people that were scattered around the room, before you stopped beside the broody detective.

“You want something, Peter?”

Grey eyes meet yours when you speak, and the last syllable of his name comes out almost like sigh, your fingers tighten their grip on your tray of snacks.

‘Yeah, you’ Peter wants to say, but he knows he can’t. He shouldn’t. You’ve been through so much, losing your best friend, the blond Peter.

But looking into your eyes, everything bad is far away. As long as he’s looking into your eyes, it’s just him and you. You’ve been incredibly kind and patient with him, and he’s eternally grateful. So of course he’s not going to put you in harms way, or put you through any heartbreak.

It seems his brain and his mouth didn’t agree, because he hears himself saying;

“I’d love a dance.”

The crime scene photos scattered on his desk are flashes of violence set in silver nitrate — they pour out of the manila folder, destined to mingle with detailed notes in scrawled handwriting. Peter’s not a meticulous man; he’s more of a hurricane, sweeping through a room. He claims a space — demands one, even — you’re genuinely surprised the first night he lets you into his apartment. You’d thought it would never happen and then, there you were, following him in and staying the night.

He very quickly establishes his own set of rules. If you’re to mingle with his life as an investigative journalist turned private investigator, you needed to mind the gap. Mind the hurricane, mind the pour over. Mind the violence, mind the things you don’t need to know.

(Tonight, it’s different.)

One, don’t ask questions.

You want to know why the crumpled figures of a young couple lay slumped in the booth of the bar down 6th street. You’ve been in there plenty of times. You’d know that velvet seating anywhere. You want to know why he’s got six other shots of the same gruesome violence composed in black and white. You don’t ask.

Two, don’t expect answers.

He keeps it from you — normally he’s better at hiding the documentation of midnight muzzle flashes. He tucks those photos away despite letting himself flood a space so quickly with his work. It’s meant to save you from the burden. His desk is usually empty. You don’t expect a case debrief.

Three, let him work.

It’s typically easy to adhere to this certain policy — you leave him to scrawl notes and work on his cases. You crawl into the rickety frame of the full bed across the studio apartment and wait. He comes to bed eventually, eyes tired from the gore and mapped out spray patterns. One kiss, a drag of fingers through his hair. He’s yours then, not his work’s.

Tonight it’s different.

“Peter…?”

He’s worn himself down these last few nights — between the bitter cold and the long hours, you can see the weathering of his posture and composure. The case files on his desk have his full attention and though — maybe — you’re a bit jealous, you understand the severity of the job. A family needs answers. Peter’s looking for them. Suddenly, he’s a bit like Atlas. He’s holding up the world.

He doesn’t respond, just leans back in his desk chair and pushes his glasses back up his nose.

It’s well into the night — you’d slipped asleep waiting for him to come to bed, book ignored. When you’d pulled your eyes open to find him still at his desk? Worry bubbled in your chest.

The floor is cold and you pad out of bed, nightgown pulled tight around your shoulders as you move across the apartment. You break rule three. You don’t let him work.

He jumps when your hands, warm and gentle, scale his shoulders.

“Peter,” you say again, voice soft and coaxing, “It’s late.”

You’re right. It is.

Your fingers move to dip along the base of his skull, curling into the thick tufts of hair there. The gesture alone has the shadow of a man before you melting backwards in his chair. His eyes slip shut behind circular glasses and you smile, your own lashes heavy with sleep.

“Come to bed, handsome.”

You steal your eyes from the case on his desk. You wonder if he dreams about the murders. It frightens you to think so. You break rule one.

“Tough case?”

A slow nod.

He breaks rule two.

“Young girl,” he grits out, letting his head lean back against your stomach. You continue to toy with his hair. He inhales, stretching a bit at his desk. His hands reach to curl around your wrists. The touch is loving, “She looks like you.”

His tone is somber. It’s anchored with a weight of a heavy heart and you feel it drag you to the bottom of the ocean. His eyes are tired. Peter feels responsible for this one. You see the drape a wrist, the contortion of a leg. A bloodied, stray curl falls limp in the corner of a photo.

Sometimes you wish he wasn’t such a good man.

You move, smothering the thought of him losing you with a kiss that’s upside down and lopsided and crooked. His nose bumps your chin. Your fingers splay against his cheeks. It’s getting easier, kissing like this — it’s so him, so Spider-man. But altogether Peter Parker.

“Bed,” you mutter against his mouth, “Come on.”

You break the rules and he does, too. Tonight is different. Tomorrow, you’ll try to forget the look of bloodied curls against a velvet sofa. He will, too.

Expecting {SV! Spider-Man Noir x reader}

A/N: This was great and I want to marry this man.

Word count: 742

Warnings: None

*******

Your leg bounced as you awaited for the results for the pregnancy test. You were in the bathroom with Peter both of you were anxious, you’ve just gotten married a year ago and you were both ready to start a family.

You sat on the counter, your legs dangling and Peter sat on the edge of the bathtub.

The test on the floor, you both stared at it in silence.

The hum from the bathroom fan can be heard.

“Whatever happens,” Peter broke the silence.

“I just want you to know that I love you no matter what. We are going to have so many kids it’s gonna be like an army.” Peter chuckles trying to lighten the mood.

You smile and chuckle, “Army? What about like a band.”

“How ever many we can make.” Peter reaches for your hand and the beep of the test scares you both.

Your eyes look at the test then you both turn to each other.

“If the test is positive then we’re gonna be parents.” You said your voice wavering.

You hopped off the counter and Peter stood up.

You bent over to grab the test.

And as clear as the day,

a plus sign.

Your eyes welled up with joy and Peter had a huge smile on his face.

“Oh my gosh! Honey! I’m so happy!” You throw your arms around Peter hugging him as tight as you could.

You could hear his sniffling while you were hugging.

You were both ready for the adventure of parenthood.

It was a dream come true.

*****

(I was gonna end it here but this was short and I wasn’t really feeling it so I added a little more! Enjoy!)

6 years later

“Ready or not here I come!” Peter’s voice could be heard from inside.

“Where are you kiddo?” He searches the backyard.

You watch from the kitchen through the glass sliding door.

A smile slowly forming on your face.

“Mama!” Your youngest child came waddling toward you from behind.

“Hello!” You pick up your baby and spin them around.

His giggle fills your ear.

“Wanna go outside with daddy and sissy?” You hold him on your hip.

Your son then leans forward a little placing his hand against the glass, “Dada!”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You said in baby talk and slid open the door stepping through.

“Are you…here?” Peter tries to catch your daughter from under the slide but she wasn’t there.

“Oh. Well. You’re good at this game.”

“Mommy!” Your daughter ran out from her hiding spot which was in a tent behind Peter.

“How did you-“

“Hey sweetie, having fun?” You asked pushing her hair back from her face.

“Yeah! Daddy couldn’t find me!” Your daughter jumps up and down.

“I could have found you. But you’ve gotten better, sweet pea.” Peter starts walking towards the three of you. (RIP Lee, you a real one!)

“Dada!” Your son reaches out for Peter.

“My boy!” Peter takes your son from your arms and starts flying him around like he’s a plane.

“Me too!” Your daughter reaches up for Peter to pick her up and he does with one arm throwing her over his shoulder spinning around with the kids in his arms.

The laughter brought tears to your eyes and Noir noticed it.

He set the kids down to let them go play and walked over to you.

“Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” He places his hands on your waist.

“I’m amazing honey. But there’s also another thing.”

“What?” He asked tilting his head.

“Soon those two might have another sibling or two. It’s still a little early to know but the doctor seemed pretty confident.”

Peters eyes got wide and kisses you.

“Baby, that’s amazing! I love you!” Peter hugs you.

“Twins. Can you imagine?” Peter rests his chin on the top of your head.

“Nope. But I know I’m gonna get my band.”

“Or army. You’re not too far.” Peter jokes.

Then the sunny day gets cloudy fast and an idea popped in your head.

“How about we grab the kids and have a movie night?” You pulled apart.

“An easy nap time. You’re one smart cookie.” Peter smirks.

You look at the kids who were trying to throw a ball back and forth to each other.

“Who wants a piggyback ride?” Peter asked getting the attention of the kids.

“Yaaay!” The kids cheer.

You smile and it was only going to get better from here.

*******

notes: this was little thing that came to mind. i really loves writing it, and so i hope you enjoy reading it. feedback is always appreciated. :)

taglist: @connorshero (you wanna be tagged in these right?)

—-

you scrub at the smudges decorating the drained glass, the distant hum of the jukebox prodding you into a gentle sway.

you sense his eyes trailing your every move, viewing from over the rim of his own glass, swirling the pale straw. yet you know him, his crooked nose and rounded glass unmistakable, so the usual discomfort is absent.

the other gazes that tend to fall on you are nothing in comparison to his. his means something, a wordless, unspoken thing. it sparks flames on your skin and bumps along your arms and knots tightening in your stomach. you feel it.  

slinging the dish cloth over your shoulder, you brace your hands on the bar countertop, peering at him beneath lowered lashes. “rough night?”

a bruise surrounds his left eye, darkening, a narrow cut on his temple. tiredness draws a sullen look to his features, cheekbones stark. his lips twitch, threatening to broaden into a smile, low tone ever present. “somethin’ like that.”

“you’re bleeding,” you notice, frowning, nodding towards the small wound.

he flinches as he touches it, cursing quietly.

“here.” you lightly dab at the cut, cloth soaking up the few crimson drops. the faintest shade of pink tints his cheeks, fading as soon as it arrives.

“that’s better.”

“thanks.”

you tilt your head, fingernails rapping against the pristine counter. “so? gonna’ tell me what’s going on?”

he scoffs, sipping his egg cream. “why would you care?”

you arch a brow, folding your arms. “is there a reason i shouldn’t?”

he blinks, slow, stirring his glass, stretching out the silence. he finally sighs, extending his hand, your fingers entwining in a way you would label destiny, an act of fate.

“i’m peter.”

“y/n.”

peter’s stare holds yours, glasses shining in the dim light. his hair is tousled, ruffled, drooping in a careless, messed manner, opposed to the neat mass that you generally witness.

“what happened?” you ask, soft. daring to lean closer, you add, “you can trust me.”

your words strike a cord within. trust is never easy, particularly with his late night activities. but there’s something that ghosts past your face, an untitled emotion that silently encourages him, a look of honesty, of vulnerability, of weakness.

he reaches into the pocket of his draping black coat to reveal an item beyond your imagination. a cube of pure colour, vivid as the stars on a clear night. you openly gape as he presents it, cradling it like a mystic piece of treasure, like a chunk of gold, valued higher than your existence.

he allows a true smile to appear and you find yourself mimicking it, unable to contain your childlike wonder.

“what is it?” you murmur.

he fiddles with the strange cube, twisting it, concentrated. “that’s precisely what i’m tryin’ to figure out.” peter glances up, gifting you the object. “here. you try.”

you’re tentative, the weight surprising, wary. a short laugh escapes as you alter the position of a row, immediately overwhelmed with a new sense of joy.

peter watches, yet not the cube that once belonged to miles. instead he observes you, your tiny jolts that the twisting cube brings, the bar lamplight exposing that glittering amusement in a unique manner.

you eventually return the cube, heart fluttering as your fingers brush his. “so, how’d you get that?”

“a… friend gave it to me.”

you chuckle. “not that thing.” you gesture vaguely to his injured eye. “that.”

he tenses. “it’s… a long story.”

“i’ve got time.”

he finishes his egg cream, sliding the glass across the countertop, easily switching the subject. “another day, then.”

peter wanders to the door, adjusting his glasses, nudging them up his nose with a brief farewell. “goodnight, y/n.”

“wait!”

you chase him outside, sprinting down the street. he stops, turning, a tad perplexed, as you halt before him.

you yank him closer, capturing his lips in a breathless kiss. you render peter speechless, incapable of motion. it’s rough, unexpected, a need, a craving. it’s a desire swelling within, a desire that quickly begins to flourish. it’s slow, teasingly slow, a simple taste of what may be to come. the kiss tastes of something forbidden, something that should never have been, a temptation sent by a demon, pushing you to give in to whatever evil lies on his tongue.

your whisper is more alike to a wheeze. his breath is abruptly loud, the whistle of the wind rustling his clothes far clearer.

#84. Show me what’s behind your back w/ Spidernoir

—

“Show me what’s behind your back, doll.”

“Do you promise not to be upset if I do?” You jest, quirking a brow in that devious way that had him stuck and in a daze.

From behind your back, you try to keep the present tightly secure in your hold. If you drop it, you’ll only feel like utter garbage.

Peter’s eyes dance softly over the square-rimmed glasses, his eyes shimmering with patience. The slight daring upturn of his lips sets your heart off, thundering like a jackhammer – uncontrolled and unwavering.

A rosy red touches his cheeks, chest constricting when you shift on your feet. You are picturesque of adorable innocence.

“I promise.” He knows that there is no way for him to get upset – with you there just wasn’t an angry bone in his body.

Smiling widely, you present to your boyfriend the present you’ve been hiding behind your back ever since he walked inside. At first, his eyes widen, his lips part in a silent question: why are you holding a Wiener dog?

But most importantly: how is it possible that you are glowing twice as much as you had on your first date? The scene before him makes his stomach churn, the butterflies daring to be set free, twisting and knotting with every bubbly giggle that slithers past your curving lips.

There’s no way in hell he has the guts to say no – to be able to tear that elation right off your face. It’s too overpowering.

“Can we keep him? I found him on the street.” And it’s in those childlike, doe eyes that he wishes he wasn’t so soft for you.

He walks over and nuzzles his noise against the wiggling puppy, emitting a garbled bark from it in return.

“Anything for you, sugar.”

#3. Traveling long distance just to see them. 

—

When he picks up the phone and hears you crying on the other line, he’s already concocting up a plan to flee his apartment to be by your side. It pains him to hear you so upset even despite the fact he can barely comprehend what you are saying in between your gasping sobs. 

He travels all night to come see you - not bothered by the fact that it’s a five hour trip or that he won’t get to do his nightly swinging around the city - no - that can definitely wait. 

You’re more important. 

You always will be. 

When he reaches your front door, he knocks as softly as he can. Seconds later, he can hear the quiet paddling of your feet and before he can determine your emotional state, you’re already throwing open the door. 

Right as you make eye contact, that’s all it takes for you to break down and cry once more. 

You’re the real mess here - your hair and face says it all. Your eyes are bloodshot, cheeks blotchy, lips dry and cracked. Your hair is - in all of the sense - untidy. 

You’re still beautiful though. A beautiful, beautiful mess. 

And you’re his. 

“You’re here.” 

“I’m here.” 

“I’ve missed you.” 

When Peter came to visit your universe, bruises cuts and broken bones decorated him. You’d made a habit of finding every new one and pressing a kiss to it.

He’d look at you with those big, sad eyes of his and smile, smile, smile. Seeing that gorgeous smile made everything worth it. Seeing it made your knees turn to jelly and made your heart flutter.

Of course, you still worried. You knew he’d go headfirst into danger to save everyone, Peter would give his life if he needed to. That made you feel proud of how selfless and heroic and brave your spider boy was. It also scared you. It kept you up at night, worry made you bite your thumb until it bled.

Peter loved you, of that you had no doubt. But he loved being Spider-Man more, and you couldn’t be upset about that. You couldn’t, or you’d sound like a villain. So if asked, you’d deny it, but deep down it hurt.

’but my life, my love, and my lady is the sea’

↓Smut Below↓

Patience;

He spreads your legs apart as if there is a surprise waiting for him, eyes dangerously dark. His tongue darts out and licks his lips before he practically dives in and devours you whole.

You’re not sure what to be focusing on; the way he holds your thighs open with calloused hands or the way his breath fans against your core with an agonizing patience. 

“Peter!” 

It’s too much – you’re too anxious. 

All he does is watch you squirm underneath his hunger filled gaze; his eyes even more darker than you’ve seen them. He smirks and laps the center of your core once and it’s enough to drive you wild. 

“Please.” 

As if that’s the magical response he was waiting for, he obliges instantly and eats you right up. He praises you, squeezes the curve of your ass with needy intentions. 

nsfw noir hc’s!

you mean king of emotional sex?

lots of face holding, lots of kissing, lots of watching you as he fucks you — he loves seeing you whine and gasp and squirm.

he honestly has a pretty low sex drive — but! when he’s in the mood? it’s hot and heavy and it goes for a while.

will, actually, occasionally say something so fucking dorky it leaves you in stitches. he’s proud that he’s able to make you laugh and come.

go ahead and sit yourself on that fucking jawline. noir absolutely loves feeling you squirm on his face.

some nights he comes home and — despite the bruises and blood and gunshot wounds? he drives you into the sheets and whispers your name and tries to show you how much he loves you. it’s raw and emotional and heartbreaking to see him like this, but he needs to get it all out.

you? dropping to your knees? undoing his belt? he’s a dead man. the second you give him head he’s absolute putty in your hands.

The proposal {SV! Spider-Man Noir x reader}

A/N: Omg this was so cute! Happy Valentine’s Day to you! Thank you and I love you sm ❤️❤️❤️ my Valentine’s Day ended terribly but this cheered me up.

Word count: 711

Warnings: none

******

You paced in circles nervously throwing the ring box between your hands. You stopped and opened the box for what seemed the hundredth time.

There it was, Noir’s engagement ring, it was a simple gold band with an engraving in the inside that says “I love you”.

“He’s on his way, You can stop pacing or you’ll get dizzy. I don’t get why you’re so nervous, He loves you,” Gwen chuckled.

“You guys are perfect for each other! He’s gonna say yes!” Miles hugs you.

“Thanks guys but it’s still nerve wracking.” You put the ring box in your jacket pocket and rubbed your sweaty palms against your pants.

“What is?” Noir’s voice was heard.

Your heart felt as if it leaped out your chest,“Noir!”

“Hey doll.” Noir walked up to you and kisses your forehead.

It felt as if the worries and stress melted away.

“I need to tell you something.” Noir says taking your hands in his.

“Oh! But I have to ask you something, it’s pretty important.” You said.

“Ah! We totally won’t be watching from the bushes. Okay bye!” Miles pushed the rest of the spider gang away.

“That’s weird.” Noir comments.

“Listen Noi,-Peter. We’ve been together for a long time and it’s even the best thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, and you are my everything. I’m thankful that I get to be with you and apart of your life. I’m so blessed to be yours…so I wanna ask you, Peter Parker, Will you marry me?” You pulled the ring from your pocket and knelt down.

Noir stared at you and you started to get nervous.

“Uh oh.” You heard a voice from one of your friends.

“Oh no.” Noir winced.

“What? What is it?” You asked standing up, your heart racing.

“Well, I was gonna ask you the same thing. Looks like you beat me to it.” Noir got down on one knee and revealed a sparkling golden ring.

“What?” You and the other spiders were in shock.

“So you were gonna propose too?” Your heart was full.

Here comes the tears.

“That’s so cool!” Miles cheered.

“I called it! I called it!” Parker jumped up and down causing a loud rustle from the bush.

You and Noir turned from your moment, both with unimpressed looks on your face.

“Are you done?” You asked.

“Don’t mind us.” Parker lowered down into the bush.

Noir turned to you and started to speak from his heart, “I love you with my entire heart. I never regret hitting you with that door that fateful day and you getting so mad until I got you food then from there it was history. I want to spend the rest of my life being with you. I want to wake up next to you and go to sleep next to you every night. I want to raise a family with you. You’re perfect and I love you. Y/N L/N, will you make me the happiest man and marry me?” Noirs eyes were getting misty and he was holding back tears.

You nodded, “Yes. Of course I will,” you fell to your knees throwing your arms around his neck.

“I love you so much.” You kissed him.

This made your heart full. You finally found someone who loves you for who you are, someone who was so excited to spend the rest of their life with you. (I’m making myself cry. I. Can’t.)

“I love you too.” Noir hugs you back.

You’re both sitting on the floor and Noir sides the ring on your finger.

“It’s perfect.” You smile.

“His ring!” You hear Gwen shout.

“Oh right! Peter, what do you say?” You held the box in front of him.

“Is Joe DiMaggio the greatest ball player of all time?” (I don’t play or know anything about baseball DO NOT attack me) Noir smiled.

“I don’t- That’s debatable, I’m sure.” You shrugged.

“Fine, Yes. I forget you’re not from the 1930s.”

You smile as you took the ring out of the box and slid the ring on his finger.

You exhaled, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulders and kiss you him again.

The both of you,ready for life, together.

*****

Taglist:

“Heya, honey bee.”

You’re not expecting to see him after a long night at the Blind Pig. He’d been gone — his usual seat vacant all through the love ballads you sing, waning into the evening air. You’re half thankful for the heavy haze of cigar smoke clouding the room. It separates you from that empty seat and the pang in your chest at the thought of Peter Parker out suckin’ down an eggcreme with some other girl.

It was Valentine’s Day, after all.

You’re in your dressing room, gathering your things of the evening trek back to the small apartment down the street a way, when he interrupts your self pitying thoughts. You’d wondered if he would even bother to show — and he does. Boy, he does.

The bouquet in his arms is sweet and plain and simple; the roses are beautiful and the heart shaped box in his other hand has you cracking into a lovestruck smile.

“Peter…”

“Couldn’t leave my best girl hanging.”

You ignore the bouquet, the chocolates. You kiss him so silly his glasses fog up. Peter’s whole face goes cherry red and it’s the cutest damn thing you’ve ever seen.

He lets out a short “Well, I’ll be damned” as you pull away.

“What?” you chirp.