Unresolved Feelings

Summary: Peter can't stand that little black dress Characters/Pairing: Peter x Fem!Reader Word Count: 470 Warnings: 18+ mdni!! female anatomy mentioned a couple of times, smut, MJ and Peter have split up A/N: Idk if anyone else needs him, but i need him

You had been Mayday's babysitter for a year now. In this year Mayday had become quite close to you.

Unknowing to you, so had Peter B Parker.

Lingering glances and touches sent your way only became obvious at the Christmas party Peter invited you to (one that MJ was holding). You weren't the babysitter that night as they had hired a second person to do your job.

You thought it was weird, but oh well, you got paid enough for what you did anyway.

Your outfit consisted of a black shimmering dress, slimming and extenuating in all the right places. You wanted to make a good impression, especially since you were just a babysitter to everyone there

you noticed just how long Peter's hand seemed to linger against your hip when other people were around

The way his fingers dug into your flesh, sending shivers down your spine in the most pleasurable way

In a way that left you wanting more

The whisper and touch of his soft breath against your neck had your knees weak, buckling under the pressure of his presence

His hands grip your thighs as he pushes you against the kitchen counter, hiding from the curious eyes of the party

"Stay quiet.. don't want them to know about our fun, do you?"

His words have you shuddering again, head rolling back against his shoulder as soft lips press against your pulse

You feel the slight drag of teeth and whimper

Peter is enjoying each little whine and squirm he's gifted with. Unbeknownst to you, he's been eyeing you all night long, desperate to gain your attention so he can whisk you away from the sight of people who claim to be so close to him

He drags you up the stairs, exchanging dirty words over hushed whispers

"Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me, baby.."

He has you pinned against a wall before you know it, hands exploring the supple skin underneath your clothes

Peter seems to seamlessly peel your panties off from under the dress, leaving you somewhat exposed as the black fabric scrunches at your hips

His fingers leave bruises in your hips that last for days. The red handprint on your ass didn't seem to disappear for a while either

Your moans and whimpers are music to his ears. It's hard to stay quiet when he's so adamant on lapping at your pretty cunt until his mouth is covered in your slick.

He has you in every position imaginable.

On your knees, fucking your face like there is no tomorrow, legs spread on the bed while your hands fist the sheets. Knees thrown over his shoulders as his tongue flicks against your clit.

All he wants is to please you...

And he does just that.

Your knees are sore the next morning and knuckles are still somewhat white from how hard you clenched the sheets

Your dress seems to be ruined, and you can't seem to find your panties anywhere

Peter greets you with coffee and a smile as if nothing happened, but you take note of that longing look in his eyes that shows he wants more than just one night.

Touch starved! Hobie loves to have his hands on you. His hand might be on your hip, in your back pocket, fiddling with your ring finger, etc.

Touch Starved! Hobie who doesn't care who sees him kissing your neck, marking and biting just to get any taste of you.

Touch Starved! Hobie who leans in every time you pull away. Your touch lingers against his cheek, leaving soft sparks against the tinted skin.

Touch Starved! Hobie who lets you do his eyeliner because he loves the feeling of being close to you. Having you in his lap with his eyes closed and the most dazed look on his face. He's in heaven.

Touch Starved! Hobie who sprays his pillow with your perfume because he finds your scent so attractive.

Touch Starved! Hobie who's always got his arms wrapped around your waist from behind when standing around HQ. No one has ever seen you two apart, you're practically attached at the hip now.

Touch Starved! Hobie who is desperate for any touch you're willing to give him no matter if it hurts...

AP Chem

Summary: admiring Miles is your favourite way to pass time! Characters/Pairing: E42!Miles x reader Word Count: 325 Warnings: Mention of death, stress A/N: No authors note :))

There is something about watching Miles do his AP Chem homework that has your stomach fluttering. He's leaning over his desk, brows furrowed deep and tip for his tongue slightly peeking through his lips in concentration. He doesn't look as stressed as he usually does, despite what the crease in his forehead might say. He suddenly isn't the Prowler. He's just a 15-year-old boy, doing his chemistry homework that he left to the last minute.

You know he's the Prowler. You knew the minute he came home with a bruise on his face. He couldn't lie to you, not when you had been friends for so many years, and more than friends for over a year now. You tended to his wounds. You stood by him during his grieving, protecting him as he protected his family. You were that barrier that stopped him from growing up even faster; a reminder to him that he was still a teenager, one in need of love and care. Despite his stone-cold look, he was still that same kid that loves his mama and papa more than anything and wanted nothing more than to impress his uncle. The one that dreamt of freedom from his father yet longed for the safety of his hugs. The one that wouldn't let anyone, but his mama braid his hair, claiming that no one else did it the way he liked.

There was a soft call of your name. You realised you had been staring at him, blinking a few times as you came through from your thoughts. "Hm?" You hummed sweetly, that gentle smile on your face. Miles only managed to shake his head lightly, having stood from his chair and sat beside you on his bed. "Said, you could always take a photo. It'll last longer." He winked.

"You are such a shithead!" You laughed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it towards his chest. He caught it effortlessly, laughing with you.

this isnt an ask, but i just wanted to let you know i love your work SO MUCH like tis just SFOSHERIGURSIUGBESRILBGSLERI

Omg pls this is so sweet!! Making me motivated to finish the 35 drafts I have fr!!! You're actually so sweet anon <33 kicking my feet and squealing!!!

Mountain

Summary: You're sick of being Peter's therapist Characters/Pairing: Peter x Fem!Reader Word Count: 420 Warnings: light angst, use of the word mum once A/N: why are all my old fics so short :((

"I cannot keep doing this for you." Your words started soft. The conversation was inevitable. The lost sleep, stolen from the spider itself, the trauma and consequences that followed were catching up to the both of you. Peter knew it was coming sooner or later.

"I can not keep taking care of you every night. You can't expect this from me." You placed your bag down on the kitchen counter, the contents beginning to fall out.

"I never expected it from you-" He tried to say. Your hands gripped the counter, knuckles white in pure anger.

"But you did! Every single night you came through my fire escape, bleeding out and sobbing, delirious! And single every night I would fix you up. Even when I was sick, or in pain or hurt, I always patched you up. It isn't fair that you expect this from me." Your words came out rushed, heart hammering against your chest. Rough hands touched your shoulders, trying to calm you down but you pushed them away. Your words were finally caught in your throat, a sob bubbling in your chest like an unruly potion in a cauldron.

"I am not your fucking therapist!" You yelled, "I am not your own personal nurse, or your mum!"

Peter stood dumbfounded at your words. There was no going back from this argument, and he knew it. Besides, you were right. He had expected you to help him. He believed that since you were his forever loving and caring partner that you were willing to risk your own mental health over his physical health. Yet, you couldn't. There was no universe where this would end well.

Attempting to reach out once again, Peter exhaled shakily and gently touched your shoulder. "Please..." He spoke, squeezing your joint through the fleece jacket, "I can fix this. I promise, I can fix all of this. Just give me another chance." The brunettes' words were beginning to sound panicked, yet you couldn't care anymore. He was the cause of your emotional turmoil for the past year. You were no longer willing to be the one to bear the consequences of his actions, especially when you were on the brink of your own emotional demise outside of your relationship with the man.

"No," you shook your head, "I'm done."

The corners of your lips turned up in a hateful and tight-lipped smile. Seeing his distraught expression made you feel powerful, your decision to leave now set in stone. Peter felt you slip through his fingers, watching with nothing but helplessness now as you walked towards the front door. Reaching for your keys, you turned back once more.

"Goodbye, Peter."

Flirtatious! Hobie Brown who can't help but lean in close to your ear and whisper the sweetest of compliments just to witness the blush on your face.

Flirtatious! Hobie who knows just how much you love it when he calls you by pet names and will use it to his advantage. "You got a sec, sweet pea?"

Flirtatious! Hobie who enjoys the way you throw back the best comebacks to his pickup lines

Flirtatious! Hobie who shamelessly flirts with you as Spider-Punk to the point where news articles are written about spider-punks mystery s/o.

Flirtatious! Hobie who loves the feeling of your breath against his ear when you whisper back how stupid that pick up line was.

But most of all, Flirtatious! Hobie who can't help but smile every time he sees your blush because he knows he's the one who caused it <3

Update

I have recently started back in school, so my schedule will be a little wack!

At the moment, I'm working on four fics, you will find them in my master list with (coming soon) written next to them! This includes the next part of Unknowing and Unexpected.

The Devil Wears Yellow

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5???

Chloe could not stand you. Over the past month that you had been attending the same school as her, she had grown a rather distinct hatred for you, stemming from the relationship blooming between you and Adrien. She noticed the sweet smile on your face every time you spoke to him, the way your fingers seemed to brush when he would lean over to your side of the desk. She could distinctly remember the way you elbowed him in the side for trying to copy your answers, his bashful laugh as he searched for an excuse of his copying. It was infuriating and unfair. Her thoughts were suddenly cut off as an unexpected voice called out to her. 

"Madame Chloe, the car is waiting for you," Chloe's butler, or as she called him 'Jean-whatever-your-name-is', alerted the girl from behind her bedroom door, his knuckles wrapping against it with a gentle knock. 

The blonde girl let out an obnoxious groan, yanking her yellow jacket on over the top of her black and white striped shirt. As overly dramatic as usual, she shoved the door open, ultimately pushing the poor man down and storming to the front of the hotel. She got in the white limousine and left for school.

~~~

The next day started the same as all the others. You struggled pulling yourself out of bed, showered in cold water despite how much it made your joints ached and then returned to getting dress. Today you wore a knee brace on your right knee, favouring your left more than usual. You were yet to notice the effect that the miraculous had on you outside of your hero persona. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge you didn't bother waking your parents to say goodbye. Reaching for your bag as you stood just in front of the front door, you took one look back into the house before you simply left, not giving the house a second look. You were starting to grow tired of the same routine. Waking up, leaving the house with no goodbye, going to school and then returning to a battle against an akuma that you weren't even allowed to fight yet. Part of you wanted to get your hands dirty, aching and yearning for the adrenaline that would rush through your system whenever there was a slight mention of a supposed akumatization. 

While the walk itself wasn't long, it felt as if it took an hour. You were tired from the nights work. Akuma's had become rare, and you were still yet to properly face one without just lending the occasional hand of whisking away surrounding citizens so they wouldn't get hurt. With each day that had passed you had easily memorised the walk to school, rarely needing your own mind to take you there when your legs already knew the way. Letting your feet guide you, your mind started to wander a bit.

The truce you made a few weeks back flashed through your mind. You hadn't really interacted with Chat Noir since then, but you were sure something had changed between the two of you. You recognised his small glances towards you, instead of being greeted with sharp eyes, they were more curious. Although he was still jealous of you, envious of the attention you received from Ladybug, you were proud to say that you no longer thought that the feline heroine hated you. Your last patrol together was the night before. He didn't speak much, but when he did, it didn't seem to come out as harsh as usual. He was a strange boy, that was for sure. 

Not realising that you'd already made it to your class, you almost walked into the door. Shaking your head, you pushed open the door and stepped inside. What you were yet to notice was the blonde girl standing next to the doorway, her foot sticking out just enough to make contact with your ankle. The connection sent you tumbling to the ground with little to no witnesses other than Sabrina. Your water bottle rolled across the hardwood floor. The blonde smirked down at you. She found an empty joy in watching you crumple to the floor, falling to pieces from such a simple manoeuvre. 

"Whoops!" she feigned shock, "Maybe you should watch where you're going next time, foreigner." The smirk on her face made you feel sick. For the first time in years, you felt humiliated. You didn't have the time to process the hurt that you felt, both physically and somewhat mentally. Putting on a brave face, you pulled yourself to your feet, favouring your left side to the point your leg buckled slightly under your weight. "Listen, I don't understand what I have done to you that makes you believe tripping me over is the answer," you began, "I'm sure there's a good person inside that heart of yours." 

Your words made her crystal eyes widen momentarily. They seemed to hit a vulnerable spot within her, but as soon as it came to her it disappeared. "You don't know what you're talking about. You are ridiculous!" She huffed, easily hiding the slight pang of guilt she felt under a snobby mask. Sabrina looked at you, her eyes were the window to her soul. Guilt was plastered on her face, leaking from her pores with every second she stood near you. Yet, the girl did nothing to defend or help you. She simply pulled her head down and held Chloe's books tighter to her chest. You never liked being forgiving, but you would have forgiven the two with a simple apology or explanation even if it wasn't to your standards. You rolled your eyes, moving from the door to place your bag next to your desk in its usual spot. Gaining no reaction from you, Chloe left without sparing a second glance, practically dragging Sabrina out by the wrist. 

You regretted coming to school so early. Tears threatened to fall as you finally let the weight of the situation fall upon your shoulders. You truly couldn't think of what you had done to Chloe. In fact, it wasn't until today that you had properly spoken before. Taking in one last shaking breath, you wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. There was no point in letting her words or actions get the better of you. If you were to be akumatized, who knows what would happen. Rolling your right ankle under the desk you bit down on your bottom lip. She didn't sprain your ankle, but it definitely left you with a jolt of pain when you moved. You hoped it would go away on its own, not needing the extra pain when your knee was already burning. 

The opening of the door pulled you from your thoughts. Quicky wiping your eyes, you scrambled to pull your textbook from your bag. Your hands shook from the previous interactions, almost making you drop the pencil you held.

Curious eyes stared down at you as the young man made his way to his seat. He sat down next to you, flashing his usual friendly smile. He spoke your name, and you finally looked up. Graced by the solemn look on your face, Adrien frowned. The two of you had grown rather closer over this last month, exchanging numbers and often riding home together. He knew to an extent the struggles you faced each day, but he had never seen you look so disappointed and dejected. 

"Are you alright?" 

The words hit you like a harsh wave, stinging as it crashed against your warm skin. Instead of answering, you simply sighed. Although the desire to understand the situation, to ultimately make you feel better, burnt deep within the core of his chest, Adrien hesitated. He nodded. "I understand. I'm here." His warm palm brushed against your shoulder once again, however instead of pulling away like you typically did, you leaned into it. 

The blonde boy's eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat. He had never really had such a seamless interaction with the someone. The warmth of your shoulder spread throughout his palm, coursing through his veins as if it were his own blood, his lifeline. His reaction didn't go unnoticed to you, although you were much too busy sulking about the previous situation. A heavy distaste for the rich girl sat in the pit of your stomach. Not even Adrien could pull you out of that hatred.  

~~~

The day was over almost as soon as it begun. After your little interaction with Adrien earlier, he had promised to take you to the park after school. His simple excuse to his father, with the bribery of his bodyguard, was that fencing practice just so happened to be running late. It was the entire reason you were walking next to him, chortling at the jokingly snide comment he had made about the ladybug pin on your bag. You could only assume he was joking. 

"What? Do you really believe that Chat Noir is better?" You rose a brow, simply teasing the other. The look of pride that flashed through his eyes made your playful façade falter. You shook it off as nothing, the small upturn of his lips distracting you from your own scepticism. There was something about his little scoff that made your stomach flutter. It felt so familiar, yet at the same time so out of reach. You chalked it back to another time you had hung out, maybe you had heard him scoff that way when he drove you home? You shook your head and turned your attention towards the taller boy. 

He rolled his eyes slightly, a sight you didn't see often under the guise of his bodyguard. "Of course! He's so much cooler than Ladybug and Clementine," that made your eyes widen, "Plus, his cat puns are hilarious. I just don't get how you can't see that." The boy shrugged. Adrien had completely dissed your alter ego straight to your face. You kept your reaction hidden deep. Perhaps the next time Clementine had patrol, they might pay a visit to the blonde boy and teach him what true humour was. You nudged him with your elbow as you both walked along the cement path. You still limped from the earlier incident, but it luckily didn't hurt as much as it typically did. "Clementine is the coolest, thank you very much! And Ladybug can literally repair everything with some like, magical ass words. How is that not cool?" 

Adrien blushed, the tips of his ears flushing red as you nudged him. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt like this. He assumed it was because you were good friends. Yeah... that was the reason. 

~~~

Your debate lasted until you two found yourself in front of your home. It seemed cold, most likely due to your parents being in their own separate places. Ever since you began to manage your won diagnoses, they began to lay off of you a bit. What used to seem overbearing and protective had turned into minimal interactions and borderline neglect. 

Turning to face Adrien, you offered him a sweet smile. "Thank you... For today, I mean. This meant a lot." You weren't lying when you said that. The whole interaction with Chloe had left you rather down in the dumps and it seemed he was the only person to truly pull you out of it. He returned your sweet smile with a boyish grin of your own. The way you looked at him in that moment with nothing, but pure gratitude and care made his heart race dangerously fast. 

He shook his head quickly, golden locks flickering in front of his eyes before settling to frame his face. He was always picture perfect. "It's what friends are for." Those words stung, but once again you were dumbfounded as to why. Adrien held your bag out for you to grab, you couldn't remember when he had taken it, but you were grateful, nonetheless. Muttering another soft 'thank you', you let your fingers linger on his. The soft caress of his plush skin against you had your mouth running dry. Quickly pulling away, you finally spoke up.

"Call me when you get home." 

You left no room for an answer, gripping your bag so tight that your knuckles had shifted from their usual flushed colour to a pale white. The door shut and you retreated to your room. 

Adrien stood outside of your house; his mouth slightly open with unsaid words. That was uncharacteristically odd, but he simply assumed you didn't want your parents to meet him. He was understanding of the relationship you held with your parental figures, so he didn't plan on pressing anytime soon. Instead, he began his way home, the only though on his mind being the way your fingers left a lasting spark in his palm. 

Word Count: 2151

Tag List!!! - if you want to be added, just ask <3

@puppyminnnie

Runway Model

Summary: Hobie was surprised when you asked him to model some of your own designs, but he was not going to pass up on the occasion. Characters/Pairings: Hobie x GN!Reader Word Count: 276 Warnings: minor mention of blood, fluff

Both of you were half asleep. Hobie's arm was drapes across your stomach, head resting into the crook of your neck when the words slipped past your lips.

"You should try my designs.. I mean, they're not too different from your style and I think they should fit.." you rambled. God, he loved it when you rambled. He'd silence you with a soft kiss to the neck, the cool metal of his lip ring sending soft shudders down your spine. He could practically hear your racing heart beat.

"would luv to, babes." He'd reply, that knowing grin on his face at the slight flutter within your chest.

The next morning comes with the smell of coffee and bleeding fingers. Perhaps caffeine and sewing needles wasn't a good combination at 6am? The only reason you were up was because you couldn't sleep to begin with.

By the time it was 7am the outfit, still half done but at least fitted to Hobie's height, was showing progress. And by the time it was complete, Hobie was amazed.

There was something about the fact that your literal blood, sweat and tears having been put into this singular outfit impressed him. It was probably the dedication that came with it. He tried it on as soon as possible.

Although he was stoic, he also had a knack for jokes. He'd strut down your shared hallway, flashing poses and mischievous grins that would entice giggles from your throat. It had his own stomach fluttering.

Hobie Brown would do anything for you.

Accidents Happen

Summary: Hobbie's medusa piercing gets stuck on your septum ring after a more heated make out session Characters/Pairings: Hobie x GN!Reader Word Count: 447 Warnings: minor mention of claustrophobia, panicked reader, reader has a septum piercing A/N: no one can tell me Hobie wouldn't look hot af with a medusa

"Oh my god.. Hobie. Hobie it's stuck." You words came out rushed and almost slurred, lips swollen and bruised from the harsh kisses your boyfriend had given you just seconds before. The once passionate moment was beginning to fizzle into nothing more than a dying ember at the bottom of a fire pit. You knew you should have flipped up the jewelry embedded in your septum and now, here you were with Hobie Brown literally stuck to your face.

"When people joked about you being stuck to me, didn't think you'd take it seriously, luv." His words came out teasingly, hands still gripping your hips. With a gentle squeeze of his hands he leaned in the slightest bit to close the small gap between your lips. "No. Hobie- it's.. it's actually stuck." As much as you loved the intimate way in which he was so close, you were also beginning to feel claustrophobic.

Your face heated up, cheeks going red and breathing becoming the slightest bit more rapid than your previous panting. Hobie's thumb caressed your cheek. "Lovely, it's okay. Take a deep breath for me, yeah? I'll get you out of here." His words were comforting.

You took one deep breath in, held it for four seconds and slowly exhaled. He glanced at your eyes and then to your nose, seeing just how tangled you really were. The slightest movement would tug on the silver jewelry between his tip lip and nose.

"m just gonna bring my hand up to your face, 'kay?"

He knew it wasn't going to help your panicking, but now that you were slowing your breathing he was more confident in his decision. Long fingers came between your noses. He brushed against yours, smiling a little when he noticed that sweet look in your eyes. In a few swift movements he had unscrewed the ball of his medusa, catching it in his free hand. He pulled back slightly and was quick to put the ball back on, not wanting it to get lost.

"That's better, innit luv?" He grinned mischievously.

"Much better. Thank you, Hobie." You sighed softly, feeling a lot freer than a few seconds ago. His hands began to move back to your hips. You flipped your septum ring up into your nose and giggled quietly at the gentle strokes of his thumb against your waist. "Let's get back to what we started, hm?" Hobie suggested, leaning back into your lips.