hi guys i decided to move blogs ( still keeping this one, it will be archived! ) + thanks to the anon that recommended a website but i was working day and nite to make a new blog, so yeah might as well not waste the effort T.T
my new blog is @aweina! please follow if you like my stuff. or don’t, whatever you want really. i’ll be more active there, but if you see it now, it’ll be very blank ( will be following back moots too ).
i really love this blog but i wasn’t really inconsistent when it came to post themes, dreadful aesthetic text post, and overall messiness behind the scenes. need a clean slate to make me not blow into millions of pieces.
and thank you for 2,000 followers! it’s tragic that i move blogs when i hit that amount but oh well, life’s a bitch ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
he's one silver fox ! ⎯ spiderverse : peter b. parker + miguel o’hara.
when they feel insecure about their age. ( inspo )
content ⋮ gn + spidey reader. fluff. hurt / comfort. insecurities. implied age difference. wc 1.5k
old age has gotten to peter in the worst ways possible. well, at least that’s what he thinks. persisting through a depressive episode because life sucked that badly wasn’t an easy feat, especially when they were shown through his physical appearance. a softer, bloated stomach, a permanent mark of exhaustion under his eyes, and greying roots that hair dye cannot even combat.
it’s especially worse when other people point out his aging. the first time miles called him ‘older’ and how his body was a ‘different shape’, peter didn’t really process it until he came back to his dimension and was welcomed with greasy pizza boxes and a broken bed frame.
and when it finally did, peter gazed down at the softness of his abdomen and poked it curiously. in the shower, he sheds off his mask as locks of grey and brown hair messily tickle his forehead. peter finally looked. softened wrinkles, a grey hue that showed his shaving efforts, sunken eyes — damn, he really was an old man.
but that was back then, and his darkened days became much more lighter. although his round eyes now gleamed with hope and the smile on his face was much more genuine, it wasn’t enough to make him feel confident in his own appearance. at least that’s how it was until he met you.
after encountering an aggressive anomaly, you hurriedly tended peter’s wounds at the recovery room located in the headquarters. that left peter under your care for the rest of the day, as well as your usual sweet nature.
“you know i like your hair, right?”
you petted the sides of peter’s head, the silky touch of grey hair making you smile.
peter shuffles a bit to the side, gently trying to pry your hands off his hair, only for you to scoot closer as you lightly brush off the stray strands off his face.
he sighs in defeat as he subtly gives into your touches, cursing at himself for enjoying this so much.
“kid, you know you don’t have to make me feel better.” peter mumbles shyly when you began to caress his scruffy cheeks with your thumbs.
“i’m telling the truth,” you whispered sweetly, inching closer until you straddled his thick torso. “i love everything about you.”
peter nervously gulps in response, cheeks dusted pink from your bluntness. he’s still a little shocked that someone much younger than him could even find him remotely attractive — considering the fact that he wasn’t at his prime. but you’ve always been quite different, ever since the day he met you when things were rough with his initial relationship.
starry eyed and obviously looking at him whenever peter came around. he remembered the subtle stares at his unshaven jawline, or that one time you furiously lectured the other spider-people that joked about his aging. peter couldn’t believe it, but he felt strangely confident in his own skin after so many years of believing he would never be lovable again.
“t-thanks kid,” peter nervously muttered into your ear, pulling your body closer into a warm hold. “for… liking me.”
you pouted at his response, your stomach fully pressed against his softer one.
“don’t ever be thankful for someone simply loving you.” you say with a comforting smile, nimbly fingers smoothing over his eye bags to the indented lines adorning his forehead.
the dangerous combination of your genuine affection and feathery touches made peter’s heart knock faster in his chest. how did he end up so lucky meeting you?
curiously, you tugged on the hem of his spider suit— skin clearly blotched with a flushed pink.
“wow, you’re blushing so much.” you teased with a huge grin.
peter timidly chuckled at his exposure, scratching the back of his head with one hand as the other one steadily grips your waist. for the first time, peter wasn’t equipped with his usual remarks and sarcasm — instead he was entirely unguarded and still dazed by your tenderness.
you giggled at his flustered expression until you squished his cheeks together — pink lips pursed out and slightly chapped.
“i’ll always love you peter,” you sweetly whispered against his lips. “always.”
before peter could properly work up the courage to respond to your confession, a surge of energy filled your heart as you peppered endless kisses on peter’s reddening face — the blend of your lighthearted giggles and his heartfelt chuckles filled the room.
peter never felt happier than he was with you around to make him feel loved again.
miguel could tell he was getting older. maybe it was the constant groggy feeling he would get from every waking moment of his life, or when he had to annoyingly dig around the messy drawers in his lab to get his reading glasses. aging wasn’t something he usually would think about, but these days it was getting to him.
the usual routine of looking through old pictures peaked his insecurities. it started when the orange hologram glowed against the deepened wrinkles around his mouth, playing the collage of memories. younger miguel was much more relaxed — hopeful glints in his eyes and his hair much more fuller with brown locks. there wasn’t his usual dullness on his skin or even the harsh lines that indicated skipping meals to focus on his new invention.
he would never admit it, but he was jealous of who he was before. much less exposed to the darkness of his mistakes and making the most of his ignorance. miguel would grimly stare into his younger self smiling until lyla would suddenly alert him of a loose anomaly causing a sudden disturbance — forcing him to turn off his screen and shake off the melancholic feelings.
the younger spider-people that roamed around the headquarters seemed to make his predicament worse. gwen, who he begrudgingly recruited, would tease him for not understanding how to use any other technology that’s not his own creation. hobie, the most unpredictable of them all, would quip about miguel’s horrible posture whilst he demonstrates his much more straighter stance.
usually, miguel would dryly laugh at their attempts to tick him off or scare them off with a lethal glare, but he felt troubled by his own age. was he that old? well, he took his physicality very seriously, so maybe it wasn’t enough? miguel heavily sighs from the throbbing pain around his temple, sulking back on his chair as he defensively dragged his calloused fingers along the silver strands of hair — reaching to the curve following his slouched neck.
“you seem stressed.”
the sudden sound of your voice immediately startled miguel, almost toppling off his desk chair. you smiled at his clumsiness while he quickly recovered with a feigned cough, a deep red settling on his cheeks.
you, you were far more different than gwen and hobie. much more reserved, never teasing him about his age like the other two. you were always there to compliment him and whenever you called his name, there was always something good out it. miguel had a soft spot for you, but he couldn’t quite understand why you had one for him.
“is it obvious?” there was no need to lie around you.
a worried look settled onto your face. immediately, you settled the aromatic coffee onto his work desk and shuffled beside his broad shoulders, peering down at the unusual tangled locks of miguel’s hair. with slight hesitance, you ran a quivering hand through his hair, combing the dark grey streak that complimented his red eyes.
miguel didn’t protest, instead he slowly leaned into your touch — the weight of his head pressed on your stomach.
“i’m not that old, am i?” miguel shamefully asked. he felt weirdly conscious about his sudden vulnerability, but especially more confused by your gentle hands nestled in his hair.
you sighed in annoyance, instantly thinking back on gwen’s and hobie’s snarky comments. “miguel, don’t listen to them. they’re just teasing you.”
miguel furrowed his brows a bit. no, there’s a lot more than just that.
“it’s not only that but…” it was his past, it was you. it was all eating him alive, these bitter thoughts — his envy towards his younger self, your bright presence that never wavered away from his darker one.
“don’t.” you cut off his conflicted silence, tracing over his hairline with a gentle hand. “i know you’ve been through a lot, and all that means that you’ve just changed overtime. it just happens, you know?”
he hummed at your words thoughtfully, a little flustered that someone much younger is lecturing him.
“and i like you just the way you are.” you delicately tilted his chin up, finally gazing down at his crimson eyes. “even when you’re always grumpy.”
miguel chuckles at your little quip with a rare smile. gawking at your cute grin and crinkled eyes, miguel couldn’t help but pull you into a soft kiss — in which you instantly melted into.
he finally understood you now — you were never afraid to love him unconditionally.
not one coherent thought goes through hobie’s head when he touches you.
contents ⋮ smut ( 17+ ). fem reader. clit rubbing. unintentional edging. cum eating ⎯ wc 425
hobie can never keep his hands to himself. you can say he’s somewhat restless, especially when he tenses up as he drags a hard look along your body. the ache of touch was hardwired into his brain that it somewhat became a routine.
during those voiceless hours, in the comfort of mutual silence, hobie becomes automatically distracted by whatever he currently has his hands on.
the usual rules to physical affection come with tender snuggles or tracing light, mindless brushes on the surfaces of soft skin. their cheeks, forearms, maybe even the swell of their thighs.
but hobie prefers to drag his hands past your waistband and nudge your clit with gentle taps with his fingers, before rubbing slow circles like he’s been sedated. this could go on for nearly an hour— his eyes heavy as he hums along the muffled music playing on the radio.
it’s only when your low whine and the sudden buck of your hips that sends him back to his senses. the white noise in his head fading away— he looked around the heated room with a confused blink, then he caught a glimpse at his hand. wait, you said you wanted to finish?
“finish? hmm… yea sure.” hobie didn’t realize that he’s been doing this for the past thirty minutes— especially with you quietly withering under his distracted touches.
with his senses fully back, the calluses on his fingertips suddenly felt soft with slick warmth. the lewd noises that spilled from your lips buzzed in his ears. your shaking palms were sweaty against his aching wrist. hobie circled your clit with a quicker cadence, eyeing your unraveling body through his dark lashes.
suddenly, you let out a loud cry as the nerves from your stimulated bud quickly bursts an overwhelming warmth throughout your body— whimpering his name repeatedly under your breath.
slowly retracting his hand, a clear string of arousal coated his fingers like a spider web. he lazily cleaned it off with his pierced tongue, drawing out a dramatic hum to tease you.
“mm… ‘re sweet.” he mumbled lowly with pursed lips, suckling on his fingertips before wiping off the remnants of stickiness on his distressed jeans.
hobie stood up and stretched the arm that was down your pants. he peered down at you with heavy eyes— expression completely neutral, like he wasn’t just tasting your arousal a moment ago.
suddenly there’s a playful grin on his face as he tilts his head towards the door.
Hullo again! It's okay about the pregnancy fic thing, I do not mind!! Thank you for answering tho instead of leaving me in the dark, am sorry I responded late aswell! I saw one of your recent posts about a Hobie cosplayer and:
https://tags.circumfluo.us/ the holy grail, a tag replacer that’ll help mass change/edit tags for tumblr!
thanks anon 😭😭 i saw this too late while i was up literally making a new blog LOLOL. i decided to move to that but this is helpful i’ll certainly keep it
i’m kind of frustrated with the theme + tags of this blog, idk if i should archive it and make a new one. but redoing ALL MY TAGS and fixing all my posts sounds absolutely miserable ( T - T )
+ feat ⋮ 1610 miles morales. miguel o’hara. hobie brown. peter b. parker. gwen stacy & pavitr prabhakar.
notes. this was just for fun so please don’t send some mean stuff, plus i hate sleeping and was bored lol. i honestly had more ideas for certain characters but that’ll just be rude to put you know. anyways enjoy ♥︎ !!
1610 miles morales :
asks too many questions in the middle of a quiet movie theater.
posts boomerang selfies on his ig story.
miguel o’hara :
mansplains all the time.
his ass crack shows whenever he bends down to pick up something.
hobie brown :
“can we talk about political economic state of the world right now.”
always trips in a goofy way because he refuses to tie his laces.
peter b. parker :
shamelessly clips his toe nails in public places.
believes 3-in-1 body wash is the holy grail.
gwen stacy :
doesn’t understand social cues in the most dire situations.
eats the most atrocious food combos.
pavitr prabhakar :
always cuts you off when you’re trying to explain something.
Imagine being Hobie's canon event. Everything is perfect and then WHAM . . .
Just like that, you're gone.
(I'm sorry I love hobie aND making myself suffer apparently-)
okay angsty i see i see and don’t worry, i love to suffer too shshsh ㅜㅜ ♡ ⋮ p.s. this was based heavily on gwen from tasm, so if it feels familiar, that’s why!
+ tw — angst. minor spoilers !! mentions of death. blood.
hobie would be in the amidst of trying to saving you. he never felt so much fear, anger, despair flooding throughout his tired body. if only he was an inch closer, his webbing was more quicker— you would’ve been alive.
he would remember the way you called out for his name, a desperate cry fading into dead silence. the glint in your eyes now completely lifeless and bleak, his webbing barely clung to your clothing as crimson pooled around the crown of your head.
that’s the first time he ever cried in a long time. quiet sobs muffled under his mask, hidden away from the ecstatic cheers from those he managed to save.
you were his reason he abandoned the mantle of spider-man, but you also became his newfound strength to put back on the mask. he knew you never wanted him to give up, at least that’s what he believed you’d say.
the bracelets you wore during your last moments were wrapped around his wrist. your writing and little doodles still decorated his guitar. all the pictures he could find of you were hung along the walls beside the bed you guys once shared.
then he would keep one stuffed in his pocket. the one you guys took in a beaten up photo booth. the smudged image of your smile and silly expressions comforted him during his hardest moments.
though you were now a memory, he kept you safe in his heart. it’s just how it’ll be for now, that’s what hobie told himself infinite amount of times.
the event of your untimely death played in one of the openings of the holographic web. he stared at it for a moment, thinking of ways that he could’ve prevented it. when your head grazes the cement for a split moment, he can’t help but turn away in shame.
yet, hobie would simply shrug his shoulders when miles sadly gazes at him.
“‘ey.. wha’ of it?”
it’s too late now, but if he could go back to that moment, he would rewrite your tragedy and have you right beside him.
“special one-of-a-kind affection”
“I wonder what that’s like. Is it the same as giving me those extra rice crackers? Or bringing me that banh mi from her neighborhood because she thought it was tasty? Is it the same as this crab?”
silk and leather ( smut ) summary : after a successful date with hobie, you show your gratitude by surprising him with the frills and bows you’ve been hiding throughout the night.
