Peter Parker x Male Reader

synopsis: You're tired of hearing Peter moan on and on about MJ (again.) Done and angry at her for stringing him along and at Peter for trying to excuse her behavior, you finally show him that there are other (and better) options than MJ. WARNING: 18+ Smut Ahead

The rain had followed you both to Aunt May’s small apartment. Peter sat slouched on the edge of his bed, his hands gripping the comforter like he was afraid he might float away if he let go.

“She said it’s over,” Peter muttered, staring at the floor. "That she needs someone who understood her and didn't place her below Spiderman. That she's tired of feeling like an afterthought."

You could feel your jaw clench, anger simmering beneath your skin. Nothing new. Nothing changed. It was always the same pattern. Her sharp words, her finality, her exits, and then, inevitably, her return. And every single time, Peter took her back.

“Peter, why do you let her keep doing this to you?”

His head shot up, confusion sparking in his wide eyes behind the glasses. “She, she doesn’t mean to—”

“Doesn’t mean to?” you cut in, rising from the bed. “She’s a grown woman, Peter. She isn’t some kindergartener who switches best friends over some dumb shit. She’s a woman who gets with your best friend, dumps him, goes back to you, then dumps you for the next guy who so much as looks her way. That’s not confusion. That’s not love. And it sure as hell isn’t someone you should want for yourself.”

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: What if Peter was jealous over you wearing another vigilante’s merch instead of his? Fluff & barely any flirting to conclude it.

Word count: 226

[FFH!Peter Parker x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After Peter swings in to save you from a plunge into the Venetian canal, the truth comes out; however, you learn in the quiet aftermath that a hug says more than words ever could. {GIF Creds: steve-rogers }

WC: 1069

Category: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Fluff, Identity Reveal, Friends to Lovers (if you squint) {TW: Post-Near Death Experience}.

Now I know this isn’t part of the series, but I had this random oneshot idea, and I had to write my thoughts out.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader Genre: Angst, romance, hurt/comfort Summary: You fell in love with your neighbor Peter without knowing why he looked at you like you were his entire world. It takes a sniper bullet, a hospital trauma room, and a stolen letter to realize that even with a wiped memory, you fell in love with the exact same boy twice. Note: My masterlist 1 & 2

--

My life as a hospital intern is a blur of fluorescent lights, long hours, and cold coffee. I leave my apartment before sunrise and return long after dark. My feet always ache, and my mind feels heavy from the endless quiet stress of the wards. But three months ago, Peter Parker moved into the tiny apartment right across the hallway from mine.

It started with small things. At first, it was just a quick nod in the dim corridor. Then, it turned into quiet conversations by the stairs. Slowly, Peter became a bright spot in my daily routine.

One night, I drag myself up the steps after a grueling sixteen-hour shift. I'm so tired that my hands shake as I try to fit my key into the lock.

"Let me help with that," a soft voice says.

I turn to see Peter stepping out of his door. He wears a faded grey sweater. His hair is messy, and his eyes are full of gentle concern. He gently takes the key from my fingers and unlocks the door for me.

"You look like you're about to collapse," he says with a light smile.

"I think my legs forgot how to work," I mutter, leaning against the doorframe.

"Wait here for a second," he tells me.

He vanishes into his room and comes back holding a warm plastic container. "I made extra rice and chicken. You need to eat something real, not just vending machine snacks."

"Peter, you don't have to do this," I say, though my mouth waters at the smell.

"I want to," he replies softly. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Actions like this become our normal. On days when I leave early, I find small sticky notes on my door with silly jokes or reminders to drink water. Whenever we sit on the fire escape together, we talk for hours. We bounce off each other's words easily, like we have known each other for years instead of months.

I don't understand why he treats me with such deep warmth and tenderness, as if I am something precious he is terrified of losing. But my heart does not care about the mystery. I fall for him completely and naturally. I find comfort in the gentle boy next door who always makes sure I never feel alone.

--

It's a quiet Sunday afternoon, and Peter is sitting on my couch while I brew tea in the tiny kitchen. The apartment is warm, filled with the soft light of the late afternoon sun. While I wait for the kettle to boil, Peter leans over the low coffee table. His eyes catch on my open sketchbook, where charcoal drawings of Spider-Man fill the pages.

He flips through the paper slowly, his fingers hovering just above the dark lines.

"I didn't know you drew him," Peter says quietly.

I bring two mugs over and sit down beside him. "It is just a habit. I draw when I need to clear my head."

He turns to look at me intensely and seriously. "Do you like him? Spider-Man, I mean."

"I admire him," I answer and look down at a detailed drawing of the hero perched on a ledge. "He's so selfless. He saves people every single day without asking for anything in return."

Peter stares at the page. His expression is unreadable. "Most people just think he is cool or crazy."

"I think about what is under the mask," I say softly and trace the outline of the suit on the paper. "I wonder if he endures his pain all by himself. I wonder if he's lonely, or if he's truly happy. I just hope he has someone to lean on when the day is done."

A heavy silence fills the room. When I look up, Peter is completely still. His throat works as he swallows hard, and his eyes glisten with sudden moisture. A single tear escapes and trails down his cheek, but he quickly raises his sleeve to wipe it away.

"Peter? What's wrong?" I ask and reach out to touch his arm.

He flinches slightly at my touch, then looks at me with a look so full of sorrow it takes my breath away.

"Maybe he loved someone," Peter whispers, his voice trembling. "Maybe he loved them more than life itself, but he had to let them go to keep them safe."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my heart sinking in my chest.

Instead of answering, Peter stands up abruptly. He moves toward the front door before I can even stand.

"I have to go," he says quietly, his hand already on the doorknob.

He steps out into the hallway and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. I was alone in the sudden, painful silence of my apartment.

--

Three days pass, and Peter completely disappears. I knock on his apartment door every morning before my shift and every night when I get back, but nobody answers. My texts stay unread. Worry sits like a heavy stone in my stomach, making it almost impossible to focus during my long hospital shifts.

The chaos starts on a rainy Thursday night. Alarm bells ring across the Emergency Department, and paramedics rush through the automatic doors pushing a blood-soaked stretcher.

"Gunshot wound to the torso!" a paramedic yells over the noise. "It's Spider-Man! I repeat, Spider-Man is down!"

Doctors and nurses swarm the trauma bay. They block my view. Panic surges through me. I don't know why, but a strange instinct drives me to move closer. I slide past the busy staff and squeeze into the back of the crowded treatment room.

Through the gaps between the medical team, I watch them cut away the red and blue fabric. Then, a doctor unlaces the fabric over his head and pulls off the mask to clear his airway.

My heart drops into my stomach. My breath catches in my throat.

The pale, bloodied face on the pillow belongs to Peter.

I take a step backward in pure shock. I nearly stumble into a tall, grim man who stands near the corner of the room. He wears dark military clothes and has a terrifying stare. He steps forward to block my path. His sharp eyes narrow as he looks down at my yellow intern badge.

"You do not belong in here, kid," the man says, his voice low and dangerous. "Who are you?"

I force my hands to stop shaking and stand up straight. I try to look like a real medical professional despite the terror screaming inside me.

"I'm Dr. (Y/L/N). I'm an intern here." I lie smoothly and keep my voice as steady as possible. "I was sent from the trauma team to check his vital signs and monitor his chest tube."

The imposing man stares at me for a long moment as he is assessing every detail of my face. Finally, he steps back just an inch, though his intense gaze never leaves me as I carefully approach Peter's bedside.

I step closer to the bed, pretending to adjust the vital monitors near Peter's pale form. My hand trembles against Peter’s chest as I pretend to listen to his heartbeat with my stethoscope. The quiet hum of the hospital hallway feels too loud.

That is when I see it. A small, carefully folded piece of paper slips out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket placed on the footboards. It rests right on the edge of the fabric, ready to fall.

Acting on pure instinct, I slide my hand over the paper and palm it tightly against my fingers before sliding it into my coat pocket.

"Everything looks completely fine," I say and step back to break the heavy silence between us. "His heart rate is just a bit fast. Give me a moment to check his paperwork, okay?"

The man just nodded. "Take your time. He isn't going anywhere."

I nod quickly and walk away before my composure breaks. I turn down the corridor and push open the heavy metal door to the deserted stairwell. The chill in the air hits me immediately. I lean my back against the wall, pull the folded paper from my pocket, and smooth it out with shaking hands.

I instantly recognize the precise handwriting. I take a deep breath and begin to read.

"Hi Y/N, my name is Peter Parker, and you don't remember me, but I have something to tell you that's going to sound crazy. But it's the truth, and I know you're going to believe me, because you're very good at telling when I'm lying.

We used to know each other. We were together.

But something bad was going to happen to the world. And the only way to stop it was to make everyone forget me, including you. Doctor Strange cast a spell, and suddenly I became a ghost to everyone I loved.

Because I'm not just Peter Parker. I'm Spider-Man.

And sometimes, Spider-Man has to do the hard thing. Even if it breaks Peter Parker's heart. I tried to stay away, Y/N. I really tried. But I loved you too much to remain a complete stranger forever.

Maybe I'll never give this to you. Maybe I'm just writing this for me. Maybe that's my responsibility, to live alone with the truth.

But the truth is I love you. And I hope that deep down, something inside you remembers you love me too."

The paper sways in my grip as tears fill my eyes. The letter is addressed to me. The words blur into soft spots of ink on the page. My chest feels painfully tight, like all the air in my lungs is suddenly gone.

Memories don't come rushing back. I don't see old dates or hear old conversations in my head. But my heart aches with a sudden, overwhelming truth.

Everything finally makes sense. The strange familiarity I felt the second he walked into the clinic, the way my pulse raced whenever he smiled, the quiet warmth in his eyes that felt like home. That's why he feels like a familiar stranger to me.

I press the letter against my chest and slide down the cold wall until I sit on the concrete step. Hot tears run down my face as a quiet sob escapes my throat.

Even with a clean slate, even with my mind wiped completely clean, my heart still fell in love with the exact same person all over again.

I fold the paper carefully, wipe the tears from my cheeks, and stand up. Peter's still waiting for me, and I'm not going to leave him alone anymore.

--

I wait until late at night, when the busy hospital corridors finally grow dark and quiet. I slip back into Peter's private recovery room. Ny heart is pounding against my ribs. The low hum of the heart monitor fills the room, and Peter lies asleep on the bed. He looks small and exhausted under the white blankets.

The tall man stands near the window. His expression is no longer harsh. As I step closer, he turns to look at me, his eyes soft with a deep, quiet understanding. He looks down at my hands and notices the paper folded neatly between my fingers.

"You read it," he says softly.

"I did," I whisper and swallow the lump in my throat.

The man takes a slow step toward me. "I'm sorry for acting like a jerk earlier. My name is Frank. I don't trust anyone in this place, especially with the kid in this condition."

"It's alright, Frank," I say and keep my voice low so I do not wake Peter. "You're just looking out for him."

Frank glances over at Peter's sleeping face and sighs. "Loving someone like him at such a young age is not an easy life. He carries the weight of the entire city on his shoulders, and he almost died tonight. But looking at you, I know he isn't alone. You're going to protect him, aren't you?"

"With everything I have," I reply without hesitation.

Frank nods approvingly. "You should head home now. You're an intern here, and you can't risk getting caught sneaking around this late. Peter would hate it if his mess ruined your career."

"I don't want to leave him," I admit and stared down at Peter's bruised face.

"Go home," Frank tells me gently. "I'll stay right here until he wakes up. I promise I'll tell him you were here. He's tough, and he'll find his way back to your doorstep as soon as he can walk."

"Thank you, Frank," I say and feel a wave of relief wash over me.

I step closer to the edge of the bed and lean down over Peter. His skin feels warm under my touch. I gently press a soft kiss against his cheek and let my lips linger for a moment.

"If you want the answer you craved so much," I whisper softly into his ear, "you have to come to my apartment. Come back to me, Pete..."

I put the letter back to his suit. I give Frank one last quiet nod and turn to walk out into the cool night air.

--

The next few days pass in a blur of restless, quiet agony. Since I am on my official days off from the hospital, I spend every waking hour pacing the small floor of my living room. I try to read, I try to cook, but my mind refuses to stay in the present. I keep thinking about the missing years of my life, the incredible sacrifice Peter made all by himself, and the terrifying realization that he almost bled out in a cold hospital bay without me ever knowing the truth.

Every slight noise in the hallway makes me jump. My phone sits on the table, completely silent, and the heavy uncertainty weighs on my chest until it feels hard to breathe.

Around three o'clock in the afternoon on the third day, a sharp, loud knock echoes through the quiet apartment.

I startle and nearly drop my mug of cold water. "It must be the delivery package I ordered," I mutter to myself. I try to calm my racing heart as I walk toward the entrance.

I unlock the deadbolt and pull the heavy wooden door open without thinking.

Standing on the welcome mat is Peter. He looks terrible and wonderful all at once. Dark purple bruises cover his jawline, a fresh bandage sits taped across his temple, and he leans slightly to the left to favor his injured side. But despite the pain clearly visible in his dark eyes, his lips curve into a tender, hopeful smile the moment he sees me.

"Peter," I gasp. My voice breaks on his name.

Before he can speak, I throw my arms around his shoulders and pull him close to me. I am careful not to squeeze his bandaged torso too hard, but I hold on with everything I have. I bury my face into the warm crook of his neck.

Peter lets out a shaky breath, wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me tight against his chest. He rests his cheek against my hair. He trembles slightly as he holds me back.

"I believe I owe you a letter," he whispers emotionally against my shoulder.

I pull back just enough to look at his face. Tears already sting my eyes as I open the door wider to let him inside.

--

Peter gently guides me inside and closes the apartment door behind us. His movements are slow and careful, but his hand feels warm and solid in mine. He leads me over to the small couch in the living room, and we sit down side by side in the quiet afternoon light.

He turns his body to face me. He searches my face with intense focus. 

"Frank told me you found it," Peter says softly. His voice is steady despite his pale appearance. "I know you already read the letter, but I need to say these words to you myself."

I nod, unable to speak through the tight knot in my throat. I place my hands over his and feel the faint trembling in his fingers.

Peter takes a deep breath, looking straight into my eyes. He doesn't reach into his pocket for a piece of paper. He doesn't look down for a single second. Instead, he begins to speak from memory and recites every word he wrote in the letter.

"Hi Y/N, my name is Peter Parker, and you don't remember me," he begins, his voice soft and full of emotion. "We used to know each other. We were together. But something bad was going to happen to the world. And the only way to stop it was to make everyone forget me, including you."

My eyes fill with tears as I listen to him speak. Every sentence flows smoothly from his lips, proven by the fact that he has rehearsed this in his head a thousand times during his loneliest nights.

"I am so sorry for taking those memories from you," he whispers, his eyes glistening with tears of his own. "Do you hate me for doing that? I just wanted to keep you safe, but living without you was breaking my heart. I love you so much, Y/N. I love you more than anything, and I just hope that somewhere deep down inside, you still feel the same way about me."

He stops speaking. The room falls completely silent once more. His chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as he waits. He is watching me with agonizing anxiety for my response.

The tears finally trace warm paths down my cheeks as I gaze at his nervous, bruised face. The silence between us stretches for a heartbeat. It is heavy with years of unspoken longing and painful isolation. I don't let him suffer through the silence for another second.

I reach up to cup his warm cheek with my palm, and lean in to press my lips softly against his.

The kiss is gentle at first, sweet and trembling with all the words I can't bring myself to voice right away. Peter gasps softly against my mouth. His entire body goes completely still in sheer disbelief before he relaxes under my touch. When I pull back just an inch, my eyes lock onto his with absolute certainty.

"You wiped my brain," I tell him softly. My voice trembles with raw emotion. "You wiped away every memory, every date, and every conversation we ever shared. You left my heart completely hollowed out for years, Peter. But do you want to know something funny?"

Peter swallows hard. His brown eyes search mine with a mixture of hope and fear. "What?"

"My heart still chose you," I say and press my hand over his chest where his pulse races wildly under my fingers. "It didn't care that my brain forgot your name. The very second you moved into the apartment across the hall, my heart fell in love with the exact same person all over again. It knows what it wants. It wants you. I want you...No...I need you, Peter Parker. "

A soft sob escapes Peter's throat.

"I'm never letting you make a choice like that alone again," I continue and tighten my grip on his shirt. "You don't get to protect me by pushing me away. From now on, if things get dangerous, you give me the choice to stand by your side. Do you understand me?"

"I promise," Peter whispers in tears. "I promise, Y/N."

Overcome with a wave of emotion, Peter leans forward and kisses me back deeply. He completely doesn't care about the sharp pain from his broken ribs and the gunshot wound in his side. He wraps both arms firmly around my waist to pull me flush against his body. The kiss grows intense, full of desperate love and years of buried grief finally melting away into pure joy.

My fingers weave through his soft brown hair and hold him close as the quiet living room fades into the background.

When we finally break apart for air, we don't move far. Peter presses his forehead against mine. Our warm breaths fan across our lips while happy tears spill down both of our faces. A small, genuine smile breaks across his mouth against mine as he speaks.

"Starting today," Peter murmurs softly against my lips. His hands rest gently on my hips, "we begin again. Just you and me, together in a brand new day."

Moving Day… Kinda?

One shot #59 - and a part 2 to Dirty Laundry

Summary: The strange boy next door becomes a boyfriend, and somehow even stranger too....

Pairing: Peter Parker x gender neutral! Reader

Warnings: this takes place during Spiderman: Brand New Day - while it doesn't contain any direct spoilers, it does hint at them. Just in case you don't want any at all! - also it’s a bit fluffy for the themes or BND - I just think Peter deserves some smiles sometimes too 🥺🥺

A/N: And the motivations just keeppppp flowing! there was a request for part 2 to Dirty Laundry, so here we are!!!! Enjoy!!!!

"Can you pass me my shirt baby? And don't put it on first this time." You tease your boyfriend with a wink over your shoulder. He stares at you blankly for a moment, a sign that he thinks the joke has gotten old.

Peter sighs, walks across the small space and hands the shirt over to you with a smile. "You know, it's funny that you still say that, even though I've only worn any of your clothes once." He points out, leaning down to peck your lips.

"Hmm, yes, but y'know there's always a chance." You smirk back, pecking his own again.

For the past 6 months, the strange boy upstairs had been turned into your boyfriend. You went on multiple dates around the city, including - as he promised - going out dancing.

"I mean, I do have more clothes of my own, but most of them are all downstairs, which is just sooooo far away." You pout playfully.

Peter laughs with a coy smile, nodding in agreement. "It's a good thing you have a key to there and can grab anything you need whenever you need." He teases back.

Most of your nights and days off were spent at his place, and his were starting to be spent at yours.

"Ah yes, but for whatever reason, your bed is so much more comfortable than mine. Sleep like a baby in it too, maybe I'll have to take it back downstairs with me one day when you're busy." You giggle, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's sturdy frame.

To you, it made total sense to just move in together. But it was clearly not that simple. Peter still acted strange. He didn't always answer your calls, he had to leave at random times, and sometimes when he came back he would have bruises, a bloody lip or some other inexplainable injury of sorts.

All reasons of the above made you too nervous to ever directly bring up the subject, though god you wanted to so bad.

"I have to go handsome. But I'll see you after work? Dinner at my place?" You suggest, pulling the shirt over your head and smoothing it down neatly.

"Absolutely. I will call you later." He promises, leaning down for a more full kiss. You smile against his lips, returning the gesture.

"See you then Parker. And wearing your own pants this time." You throw in one last dig, waggling your fingers at him as he scoffs and you run out the door.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

That night...

He did not, in fact, call. All day.

After a long day at work, you had returned home, dropped your stuff and taken a shower. Your ringer was on for all of it, just anticipating the familiar ringtone of your boyfriend.

And yet, in all of those hours, the phone remained quiet. You even rebooted your phone twice incase it was some kind of a fluke. Still, there were no notifications, no voicemails, no rings.

Now, you sat in the living room to your apartment, already changed into your comfies and checking the clock again.

"Hey, Pete... it's me, again. I just want to know where you're at. Call me back or get your butt over here. Love you." You sigh into the phone, leaving a 3rd voicemail in the last half hour.

This was not normal, even for his weird. You were starting to get worried.

Just as you're about to start pacing again, you hear a key enter the door and you jump to face it just as Peter comes through the frame.

"Y/N, I am so sorry. I was on the train and it got stalled and took so long and I am just so sorry." He insists, holding up a bouquet of flowers in his hands towards you.

You let out a sigh of relief, taking a seat on the couch and raking your hands through your hair.

"Peter you had me so insanely worried. I mean you didn't even pick up your phone at all the past few hours and all I could think was the worst and... I don't know I was just worried." You sigh.

"I know. I promise, I know. I just had no signal. And couldn't get a hold of you!" He says, his words coming out of his mouth a little too fast for you to believe them.

"Peter I'm not dumb... I know there's something going on with you. Are you... are you actually doing drugs now? Are you seeing someone else? Please just tell me whatever it is that you are doing because I need some kind of explanation..."

"No Y/N! I promise, it is absolutely none of that! I would never!" He swears, kneeling down to your level on the floor.

"Then what is it Peter? Because I can't keep pretending that I don't notice how strange you've been acting since the day we met. I love you Peter, but I am not going to play dumb." You swear, looking him in the eyes to show him how serious you are.

"Ok the truth is... honestly it might be better if I just show you." He says, sounding tired, but not hesitant. You silently nod your head in agreement.

He softly takes your hand in his, pulling you both up to a stand with him.

Together you walk upstairs and into his apartment, where he stops in front of his closet.

"Before I show you this babe, you need to just... not freak out... just stay calm... ok?" He stammers.

"Are you hiding the fact that you have a bunch of my clothes in here, or that you're Hannah Montana?" You ask dryly. Peter blinks at you, clearly unamused. "Ok I'm sorry... I'm just nervous." You admit.

"Me too." He says under his breath.

Without another word, he opens the closet doors and turns on the light, pulling out a hanger.

You stare with wide eyes at what sits on the hanger, flashes of blue and red in your vision.

"Sooooo.... your secret is you're a really big spiderman superfan?" You ask, reaching out to run your hands over the fabric. "Or a spiderman impersonator? Or you stole his suit too?" You continue to guess.

"I- no. I'm... I am spiderman Y/N." He admits, glancing up at you to see your reaction.

You stifle a giggle. "Wow you really get into character." You tease, clearly trying to deflect everything.

"Oh for gosh sake-" Peter mutters an before you know it he's pulling on the suit.

"What are you..." You start, stopping in your tracks as he pulls the mask over his face and walks over to the window, yanking it open.

Before you can say another word, he wraps a strong arm around your waist and pulls you towards the open window, pulling you both through it and onto the fire escape.

You hardly have a moment to think before you're letting out a loud scream as you start flying through the air, tightening your grip on Peter so much that you know he'll have markings on him.

He goes in a few different directions, clearly knowing the routes well.

You go over water, around buildings, everything for a few blocks until finally he lands back on solid ground on the fire escape steps.

"Oh my god- OH MY GOD! All of the marks, all of the late times... OH MY GOD... I'm dating the Spiderman-" You babble, slowly releasing your hold on him and stepping back onto your feet.

Peter pulls of the mask, his face one of guilt.

"I wanted to tell you sooner. God, I wanted to take you for a ride like that a week into meeting you. But I've told people... in the past, I've told people. And, they got hurt... And I got hurt. And I lost those people. So I was scared to show you." He admits, pulling you tightly into his chest.

You still there, stopping your chatter to look up at him. He looks hurt. He looks scared.

"Peter, I was so worried about you. That's what this was. I thought you were into bad stuff, I thought that you were hurt. I never imagined it would be this amazing, heroic, selfless thing going on. It must be so hard for you to deal with this on your own... and here I thought my big problem of asking you to move in together was tough, and yet you're dealing with this whole dual personalities thing." You chatter, not realizing what you just let slip.

"Hang on... you've been worrying about us moving in together?" He asks, a smile touching his lips.

"Well yeah silly, that's what I was trying to talk to you about this morning. And I was finally going to ask you tonight, but... welll..." You gesture towards his suited-up self, and he chuckles.

A big, full smile touches Peters lips, which is apparently contagious because one touches yours too.

"Since I stole your thunder, I think I owe you this... us this actually." He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Will you move in here y/n? I love you, and I would love nothing more. I've got nothing more to hide from you, I promise." He says, holding both of your hands in his.

You giggle happily, pulling into a very tight hug with him. "Of course I will you spider-dork. But only if you promise not to steal my wardrobe when I do." You tease, letting out a full belly laugh as he playfully scowls at you.

Tags: Secret sex, doggy position, fingering, canon compliant (sorry hobie), fucking on Miguel’s moving platform lmao

A/N: Hiiiii! This is my first smut ever! I’m sorry if this isn’t good and I served you a plate of corn. I’m always open to feedback! ^_^

Hobie is so many things.

Sweet, caring, funny, effortlessly cool.

Sympathetic and generous. Just so lovely…

Perceived as reckless and thoughtless when he’s always two steps ahead of everyone.

He always knows how to cheer you up and how to make you laugh…

And exactly how to make your eyes rolls back.

He fucks you so good on Miguel’s moving platform with you two in the doggy position, your back arched and him balls deep. Your pretty eyes rolls back as he covers your mouth with his hand, muffled moans escaping your pretty lips. His hips slaps against your ass as he squeezes your hip with one hand. Sweat glazes his beautiful skin. The warmth from your pussy engulfs his dick and your pussy is just so wet and tight. You take him so well and while he can’t see your face, he already knows the pleasured expression on your pretty face.

The door leading to Miguel’s office is locked but who knows when he’d come back from the mission he’s on or if LYLA would pop in or if someone will overhear.

You two shouldn’t be doing this… if you two were caught, your watches would definitely be revoked and you two would be sent back to your dimensions unable to see each other ever again.

His hand that was covering your mouth goes to squeeze your ass. His balls slaps against your skin as he thrusts into your tight pussy, your arousal covering them in your slick.

“Shhhh, love… people are going to hear you…” Hobie hushes, his tip kissing your sweet spot with each thrust. He gives your ass a light slap with his big hand, it didn’t hurt at all and it wasn’t even loud but you turn your head around to look over your shoulder at him. This fucking man… telling you to be quiet but then he slaps your ass?! Not that you minded. You glare at him but it lacks any heat. He smiles, biting down onto his lip to not chuckle. "Sorry, baby… that was hypocritical of me, huh?" He adds, giving your ass a rub before a gentle squeeze. You clench your walls around his dick on purpose and he gasps.

He buries his dick as deep as he can, making you gasp every time the tip of his dick rubs that sweet spot inside you. It makes you so fucking weak. He pulls himself out just to feel the suction from your walls before thrusting back in with a snap of his hips. The fullness again make your eyes rolls back.

“B-Babe… just like that…” You moan out before biting your bottom lip to try and keep quiet. You’re so close…

“Gonna cum for me, aren’t ya pretty girl?” Hobie hums, squeezing your hips.

“Hnngghhh…” It’s all you can respond with. You can feel your orgasm build up in your lower belly. He can feel the contractions of your walls. He can feel himself getting close too but your orgasm always comes first.

You close your eyes shut as your orgasm hits your entire body, leaving you crying and shaking as Hobie places his hand over your mouth to muffle the moans that would leave your lips. Hobie continues to fuck you, chasing after his own high now.

“Fuck, love…” Hobie pants out as he continues thrusting, sweat beading at his forehead and his grip on your hips tightening a bit.

“Fuuuuuckkkkk…” Hobie groans out as he throws his head back, his warm cum spurting into your pussy and filling you up to brim. Your walls clench from the withdrawal as he pulls his softening dick out. His thick cums leaks from you and he fingers his cum back into your pretty pussy before pulling his fingers out, making you whine. Really though, you two had to wrap it up. You turn over and He kisses your forehead as he wipes a stray tear from your eye.

Hobie wipes the sweat from his forehead and you two adjusts your suits before unlocking the door to Miguel’s office and leaving, Hobie stealing pieces of technology on the way out. Thankfully for you two, nobody was around. You’re hungry so you two head down to the cafeteria, acting casual. A skill you two had perfected after becoming your dimension’s spider. Like you two weren’t fucking on your boss’ moving platform. Your boss. Not his.

You eat a burger as Hobie finally tells you about what he’s been working on: A bootleg dimensional travel watch. One for him and one for you.

He gets a message from Gwen on his official dimensional watch and his eyebrows furrows as he reads it… she needs help but she doesn’t specify about what. There’s three other vitals there. Pav but two others that he didn’t recognize.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, setting your burger down.

“Gwendy needs backup…” Hobie mumbles and with that, you’re already up from your seat. You open up a portal and you two hurry off through it into Pav’s dimension.

When Miguel comes back from the mission and steps into his office, he’s unaware of what’s happening in Pav’s dimension.

But he is aware that Hobie and you were in his office. He can smell it . The smell of Hobie, you and sex.

You two are so fucking fired.

But it doesn’t really matter, you two will end up quitting before the day ends when a certain anomaly needs your help.