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bambiswriting · 6 months

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Work, Then Play

--genre + trope: college!au, SMUT, fluff, nsfw, 18+ MDNI.

--pairing: college!peter x college!f!reader

--word count: 1.3k

--summary: you're just trying to power through your essay before the day ends, when needy and clingy peter decides to grace you with his presence.

--warnings: SMUT, grinding, unprotected PinV (pls for the love of god don't do this), creampie, aftercare, fluffy as hell, peter loves the reader so much.

The bright screen of your laptop is the only light illuminating the kitchen as you’re trying to finish your essay before the due date by the end of the week. The kitchen counter you’ve been working on is now buried underneath the sheets of notes, stacks of notebooks, and multiple novels you are using to create somehow the best end-of-semester essay you could come up with. You don’t know how many times you’ve run your hands across your exhausted eyes, pleading with yourself to keep going.

While your nose is buried in your notes from class, you don’t notice Peter quietly sneaking behind you and engulfing you in a hug from behind. Your body jumps a little, before recognizing the body behind you. “Hey bug, it’s getting pretty late,” he mutters in your neck, finding a new place to rest his head.

You lean your head to place yours on top of his, “I know, I know. I just need to finish this before the morning, or else I’ll never want to return to it.”

“And how much have you finished?” Peter’s peering onto your laptop to see how much progress you’ve made.

“About three-fourths of it,” you respond quickly before adding, “But I swear I’m almost done.”

“Sure, sure.”

You gasp dramatically, “Fine, doubt me, but I only have to finish the final body paragraph and-”. The familiar feeling of an open-mouthed kiss is felt on your neck, inciting a soft sigh to escape your lips. You know exactly what Peter’s doing, and it’s definitely not helping you finish your essay. “Peter…just wait till I’m done, please–fuck,” you plead before you’re cut off for the second time.

There’s still no verbal response from Peter, but he’s seemed to not get the hint. You feel his breath lingering farther up your neck till he places a small peck on your cheek. He finally responds back to you with an answer you can’t deny, “C’mon baby, take a break with me. You deserve it.” At this point, the entire essay was not your main priority anymore. All you wanted was Peter.

You quickly turn around to face him and give him a proper kiss, passionate and needy. You slowly rise from your chair, your legs a little wobbly from sitting, and start making your way to the couch a few feet away. You make Peter lay down on his back as you start to take off just your sleep shorts, Peter doing the same as he takes off both his sweatpants and boxers in one motion. Giggling, you climb back on top of him, just hovering over his cock as you kiss him again. He’s grabbing at your hips, trying so hard to get any type of friction.

“Please,” he whines, “just touch me, please?”

You love it when he gets all whiny and desperate like this, he just looks so pretty like this. As much as you adore him like this, you decide to give him something small. You lower your clothed core and begin to grind. The grip on your hips tightens deliciously. You smirk, knowing there’s going to be a mark to admire in the morning.

The feeling of his cock hardening under you stimulates your clit as you continue to grind, a wet spot forming on the crotch of your panties. The mix of your arousal and his precum combining together. The smallest moans and grunts are leaving your boyfriend as he writhes below you. The sight is too perfect as your sounds become louder.

You can tell he’s close by the way he has screwed his eyes shut and his hips are stuttering as he tries to buck into you. This is your sign to get off of him before he cums all over himself. Trying to escape his grip was harder than you thought, but still, you were successful. Another gorgeously pathetic whine escapes Peter as you lean back up, “Wha-What? Baby, why?”

He looks like he could cry, and that makes you regret your decision slightly, but knowing what you have in store for him subsides that guilt. “Shhhh, it’s alright,” you respond, “be patient, my love.” Pulling your now damp panties to the side with one hand, you lean down to envelop him in a deep kiss before sinking down on his cock. You both moan into the kiss as your core swallows him completely. Giving him one last kiss, you place your hands on his chest for stability as you bring your hips up and slam them back down.

There’s nothing polite about your motions as his cock starts to hit that spot inside you. Peter is completely euphoric at this point, he’s looking up at you as you’ve thrown your head back in pleasure. Reaching up to slide his hand under your sleep shirt, he squeezes the soft flesh of your breast. He loves it when you use him for your own pleasure like this, he wants to give himself up to you, entirely.

You’re close as the rhythm you’ve created grows sloppy, your legs are tired, but you’re right there. Peter senses your exhaustion as he leans you forward to completely collapse on top of him. Wrapping his arms around you, he plants his feet on the soft cushion of the couch and fucks his cock into you. The sudden urge to take care of you this way is so primal. He thinks you deserve a reward for your hours spent working on that stupid essay.

Peter is fucking you with such force and speed, that you don’t have time to announce that you’re cumming, but Peter already knew that. You fall limp in his hold as you’re orgasm pulses through your legs. The shock waves don’t stop as Peter keeps fucking you, almost reaching his peak as well. His beautiful eyes are screwed shut again as you look at his face. Taking both of your hands, you cup his face, causing his eyes to open and peer at you. Looking down at him with half-lidded eyes, you egg him on, “Are you gonna cum in me, Peter? Are you gonna fill me up, and stuff me full?”

He nods frantically, fuck, he’s so close.

“Oh, you’re right there baby,” you add, “you’re right there.”

One final thrust from Peter, and he was shooting his load inside you. Nothing beats this feeling, the feeling of his seed inside of you is what you dream about. His eyes are closed as he starts to come down from his orgasm. Pushing the sweaty hair off his forehead, his eyes flutter open. A grin appears on his face before he opens his mouth to speak, “Hi, bug.”

“Hi, my love,” a similar grin paints your features, “you feel alright?”

A blissful sigh leaves his face as he relishes the feeling, “Mhm, how about you?”

“So good,” a simple response was all that was needed.

Not much was said after that, in fact, you were just about to fall asleep when Peter’s voice woke you. “Sorry for pulling you away from your work, I can help you with it tomorrow,” a pang of guilt in his voice.

“It’s alright,” you respond, “I’d rather do this with you than write a stupid essay anyway.”

Looking up at him, he gives you a kiss on your forehead before slowly guiding you both off the couch. Peter picks you up and carries you to your bedroom, walking past the mess on the counter that you’ll deal with in the morning.

--author's note: i am so in my peter era (again, this is reoccurring) right now, so it might take a little bit before i post anything about the other characters on my masterlist...but tbh you guys eat peter fics up, so i hope you love this one. something sweet and smutty for you guys. don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging!! also, my asks/inbox is open and im in dire need of ideas, plus i'd love to hear from you guys:) ok, ily bye.

#HNNNNNNMNMNGH #*unintelligible noises*#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker #spider man

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bambiswriting · 7 months

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Always coming back to the same headspace - that I'm not worth a damn to anyone

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bambiswriting · 7 months

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excuse me, could i get a picture?

pairing: (tasm!) peter parker x gender neutral reader

summary: "hey, i'm a street photographer, could i take your picture?"

masterlist | requests are open!

warning i wrote 80% of this half-asleep

Saturdays were reserved for coffees and walks to get breakfast. They were reserved for earbuds in your ears, music blasting as your feet rushed through busy intersections. Although Saturdays were reserved for yourself, that didn't stop New York from moving around you.

"Excuse me!" You thought you heard, but the voice was barely audible over the music in your ears; plus, there was no reason for anyone to be talking to you.

The rush of footsteps behind you made your footfall slow in confusion, and a gentle tap on your shoulder made you spin.

"Sorry," a boy began, and you let him keep speaking as you looked at him.

He was tall, cozy in double jackets with a large camera hanging around his neck. He had brown hair and warm brown eyes to match, looking at you with a polite smile and his phone in his hand, pointing down towards the ground.

"Hi, uh, I'm sorry to bother you," he spoke awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot and doing his best to look at your face. "I'm uh, a photographer -" and the way he said it made you smile, like the word was too serious for an unserious person. "And I was wondering if I could... take photos of you?" He finished with a tilt of his head and a shy smile.

Oh, he was cute.

"Of me?" You ask, sure you'd misheard. Your hands went to pull your earbud out of your ear, only to find that it was already out. Your hand landed on your neck to save yourself from embarrassment.

"Yeah!" His expression brightened at your lack of immediate rejection, eyes more confidently settling on yours with the occasional flicker to the camera hanging around his neck. His head tilted down, expertly? picking up the camera and stepping closer to you while maintaining a respectful distance, showing you strangers on the small screen.

The photos were absolutely beautiful.

"I wanted to focus on natural beauty... the leaves are perfect right now - " His eyes looked up and around as the shades of autumn began to fall around you on the out-of-the-way street you were on, lined with apartments. There was a brightness in his eyes as they fell on you again and you realized he had been talking. " - and you, of course."

"Me?" You asked again, feeling stupidly like an owl, wide-eyed and unbelieving.

"Yeah!" He bit his lip through a smile, a pink blush appearing on his pale cheeks, a nervous shift in his demeanor revealing he was only a few seconds away from backpedaling.

You looked around at the empty street and stepped a little closer with a smile. "Well, since there's no one else, I guess I'll do you the favor," you grinned teasingly.

"Cool. Awesome," he looked down, shaking his head a little. "Is it okay if I film, too?" He motioned to his phone and you nodded with a smile.

You self-consciously tried to touch yourself up as the boy turned his back toward you, setting his his things up. God, you didn't even know his name.

"You never told me your name," you noted softly, not expecting him to perk up at the sound of your voice and turn towards you.

"Oh! It's Peter!" Peter gave you a dopey grin you couldn't help but mirror as you gave him your name in return.

Peter messed with his camera, flickering from the screen to you with his eyebrows furrowed and the tip of his tongue poking out of his lips in concentration.

You weren't sure if the nerves in your stomach were from the camera pointed at you or the boy behind it, but you bit your lip and tried to look anywhere but at Peter.

"I should warn you, I suck at posing," you managed to get out when the silence was almost too much. You weren't sure whether to feel bad about breaking Peter's concentration until he laughed and shook his head.

"You'll be fine."

You weren't certain about that, but Peter's tone and his soft smile made you believe it for a while.

"Okay, for the first one, I think you'd look great right against this door..."

Peter guided you gently with his voice and his motioning hands until the sun hit you perfectly through the thinning leaves, lighting you and the red door you stood against perfectly.

You tried to follow Peter's easygoing instructions of just "acting natural" but the half-smiled he offered and look in his eyes told you weren't getting very far.

"Sorry," you winced, embarrassed for yourself.

"No, no, you don't have to apologize," Peter assured, dropping his camera and approaching you. "Here, just... may I?" Peter looked at you with a gentleness that knocked the words out of your lips. You could only give a small nod and Peter put his hands on you, feather-light touch moving your arms like you were a porcelain doll Peter cared deeply about. His fingers found yours as he positioned your hands and you could only stand there and admire his attention to detail, his mind coming up with a bigger picture you couldn't see quite yet.

"You should model more often," Peter said, stepping back just enough to be out of your personal space - but just close enough for you to see all the beauty marks on his face.

You scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"I'm serious! It'd be a crime if you didn't."

"Maybe I'll just model for you, then," you said rather boldly, turning your head to the side in embarrassment, missing the small smile and twinge of red of Peter's ears at your comment.

"Perfect," Peter muttered and you turned back to see his face partially hidden by his camera - you weren't sure how long he'd been snapping photos for.

You laughed and Peter grinned, fingers pressing buttons rapidly as he held you in light conversation.

There was a permanent warmth in your face you hoped wasn't obvious through the camera, the feeling shielding you from the cool wind blowing around you.

Your focus was only on Peter, listening closely to every word and story he shared with you: his favorite coffee shop in the area, his photography, the people he'd met through it. None of the connections lasted longer than the session and you wondered if it'd be the same for you - if Peter was always this kind to the strangers he took photos of.

After a small shift to the stairs in front of the door you stood in front of and a lot of wondering how many photos of you were filling up Peter's camera, Peter took a seat next to you, his knee bumping yours as he leaned towards you, clicking through pictures.

"Woah..." you said softly, finally seeing the vision Peter had in his head. The scene was set up beautifully, with your fluid movement at its center.

"You like them?" Peter asked hopefully, wishing he could take another picture of the moment.

"I love them!" You exclaimed as Peter continued moving through the dozens of photos, shot after shot of you.

You felt that warm rush of embarrassment again and you placed a gentle hand on Peter's arm.

"Okay, okay," you laughed, looking at Peter's face. Realizing how closely huddled you were.

"You're a great photographer," you uttered softly with a smile to accompany the compliment.

"You're a perfect model," Peter returned just as quickly.

You laughed, shaking your head as Peter tried to argue. "I'm serious!" But the smile on your face was contagious and Peter couldn't help but smile around you.

There was a beep from Peter's phone, still off to the side and recording, and Peter jumped up at the noise.

"I'm so sorry, I have to go," Peter rushed out, grabbing his things and giving you a smile. "I'll text you... send you the photos."

"Yeah!" You nodded, barely able to give him a wave before he was off. Barely able to think about it before realizing he didn't have your number. "Peter!" You called, but he was gone.

「 … 」

Finding Peter on social media was a lot harder than you'd imagined, especially when both of you had stupidly excluded last names from your introductions. All you had was "peter photographer," which evidently didn't count for much.

You gave up that same day and it wasn't until two weeks later and the help of your friend that you found him again.

The video you were sent was it: Peter walking up to you for the first time, the two of you talking, you posing, the two of you reacting to the photos and finally, the photos themselves. They were just as beautiful as you remembered.

The clips themselves were short, only a few highlights of your conversation in the video; times where you made Peter laugh, or the other way around.

In retrospect, the words exchanged between you and Peter with charged with some other than just friendly, polite conversation and you really wondered now if it was all just in your head.

Although that worry diminished with a look at the caption of Peter's video.

watch me shamelessly flirt for a minute and a half

A stupid smile spread on your face at the handful of words and your first instinct was to check the comments.

"they're so into each other omfg" "they flirt so much and a majority of their convo was probably cut out........" "peter please tell us you got an @" Now this one had a reply from Peter himself.

"no i had to leave in a rush and didn't realize i had no method of contact until later :(" "PETER YOU FUMBLED" "NOOOOOO"

There were more cries of disbelief in response to Peter with even more calls of action to find you.

"Oh, my god," you whispered, fingers moving quickly and your heart beating just as fast as you swiped to Peter's profile and hopefully... yes! His Instagram was linked.

You followed him instantly, clicking on the Message button before hesitating. Would he recognize you? Would he even respond? What should you say?

You bit your lip and drafted a few messages, typing and deleting and pacing until you settled on a message.

"hey. it's me from kips bay! i saw ur tiktok :)"

Send.

You threw your phone across your bed immediately, nerves settling in now that you had nothing to do but wait. You didn't have to consider unsending the message for too long when you phone dinged.

"ppparker: Oh my god hi" "ppparker: Sorry i can't believe i actually found you" "ppparker: Hi :)"

#HNNNNNGHHHH #I'm currently hiding out in the Peter tags until I can watch an episode of a TV show cause there are spoilers EVERYWHERE on twitter #and I am so glad this silly little circumstance lead me to this fic #it's SO cute #you got me blushing #akdskmskd #love this format in fics with social media introduction #I would inhale a sequel to this jus' sayin' xoxoxox #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #the amazing spiderman #tasm #marvel #spiderman

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bambiswriting · 9 months

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2012-13 AO3 was a beautiful fever dream.

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bambiswriting · 11 months

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shoes (part one)

tasm!peter x fem!reader

summary:

“apparently dating your boss is a ‘conflict of interest.’“

"i can’t imagine why.”

warnings: haha, just lots of nothing, harry is there, peter is there, reader is there, rich people stuff, mentions of alcohol, secrets that only i know

a/n: two in one night???? yes. i’ve been sitting on this for like seven years. (cowboy like me).

Keep reading

#tasm!peter x reader #peter parker #tasm #tasm!peter

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bambiswriting · 11 months

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Now that you have created peace between your people and the Talz, remember one crucial thing. Make it last, Senator. Make it last. And be an example to others so not only this war, but every war waged may come to an end as well.

SENATOR (RIYO) CHUCHI in THE CLONE WARS | 1.15 Trespass

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bambiswriting · 11 months

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Gonna hurl myself down a well of self insert Rex and Peter Parker fics x

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bambiswriting · 1 year

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hey kids!! here's a little preview of part four of another world to hold ya over until i shake off this writers block. i promise it'll be soon lol

"Can I ask you a weird question?” Older Peter gave him a nod. Peter took in a deep breath, the feeling rising to his chest again. “Does she feel.. familiar to you?”

His brother quirked an eyebrow. “I mean, yeah. But I knew her.”

“Oh━ right. Forgot. Best friend and all that,” Peter laughed nervously. “Just forget I said anything.”

“Peter, talk to me, bud,” Older Peter’s gaze locked on him expectantly. “Don’t sit with whatever you're feeling. You know as well as I do that doing that never ends up going well for us.”

Peter exhaled, drawing out the breath for as long as he could. “I don’t know, man. It’s weird. I just had my second conversation with her, but it feels like.. it feels like I know her? There’s something inside of me that feels like it’s gonna burst every time I see her. She speaks and I catch myself grasping onto everything she says, even though I don’t know what I’m looking for. It’s like there’s a word I can’t place and it’s right on the tip of my tongue. And then when she looks at me.. God, I haven’t had someone look at me like that since I was 18. She looks at me like I’m the only thing she can see and it makes me… swoon. I get hit with this emotion that I can’t even name, but it’s so overwhelming I forget how to breathe for a few seconds. She makes me so confused, but at the same time I feel so....”

“Safe.” Older Peter finished for him.

“Yeah..." The word clicked something into place in his mind. His chest felt a little lighter. "She does. She makes me feel safe.”

#I think about this 46 times a day #I can't seem to access the fic anymore so I'm wondering if it was deleted #hoping you're well OP #thank you for providing us with the healing content #you rock <3

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bambiswriting · 2 years

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Venomed

Summary: What once was a beautiful relationship with Peter, turns quite venomous…

Warnings: Blood, violence, swearing, death.

Notes: We finally made it! The last part to Venomed! It's been along time coming and I'm just glad to finally have it out for you all. I'm really nervous about it as this has definitely been the most difficult part to write by far, but I want to thank each and every one of you who stuck by this story and give it all the love that you have. It means the whole world and I'm very grateful for every like, reblog, and kind comment. Thank you all and I hope you enjoy ♡

Part 5

Part 6

Your heart is hammering in your chest as you enter the swinging doors to Oscorp.

You can practically hear it beating in your ears, and you’re starting to think Peter can too, because he slips his hand into yours and gives you a small squeeze.

You look up at the face of the man you love and your heart falters for a moment at the clear adoration he has in his eyes for you.

“Whatever happens, we’ll do this together.”

You know in your heart that Peter means it, but you don’t think he truly understands the absolute hell that would come with staying with Venom permanently. Despite your conversation together, you’re not so sure you’re willing to subject Peter to a life of pure chaos.

“This is a bad idea,” Venom echoed in your head.

You try your best to keep your face stoic so Peter doesn’t notice that anything is off because the uneasiness you feel whenever Venom speaks to you, within you, is still very much prominent.

“Something isn’t right. Turn around. Now.”

“Shut up,” you whisper under your breath, head turned to face the escalator steps you were now on, and you feel Peter’s eyes on you.

Your eyes remain forward.

• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊°

“Thanks again Doc, for doing this,” Peter says as you both follow Octavius down the halls to his lab.

His hand is still wrapped tightly around yours.

“Of course, Peter. You know how much I appreciate all the work you’ve done for me. This is the least I can do.”’

Once he unlocks the door to the lab, you all step into the room and spot what looks like a large, glass box in the middle of it.

“What’s that?” you ask, walking along the sides of the box, looking in closely to see absolutely nothing inside of it.

“Ah, that, my dear, is where you’re going to step inside of in order to begin the process of extracting the symbiote out of you,” he explains simply, and it’s amusing how both yours and Peter’s brows furrowed at the same time, giving each other a silent look.

“So..you’re going to cage me in in order to get this parasite out? How is that going to work?”

Dr. Octavius chuckles at this. “It’s not as terrifying as it seems, I promise. After doing some research and taking our incident with the CT scan machine under consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that the symbiote is sensitive to high frequency sounds. So, if that’s the trick, then you’ll be isolated in there with nothing but the sound playing from speakers I have placed inside. The reason for the glass walls is so we can supervise you and ensure that the symbiote doesn’t escape. Don’t want it to get its claws on Peter here, do we?”

Your eyes go straight to Peter, the thought terrifying you.

Your fear isn’t important right now. Dr. Octavius could claim that jumping into a snake pit would be the solution and you’d jump. Whatever it took to get Venom out of you.

Whatever it took to keep Peter safe.

“Ok. Just let me know what you need me to do,” you say confidently, although Peter’s face looks unconvinced.

“Wait. Is this going to hurt her? Is this even safe?” he asks, choosing to examine the glass box more closely.

“I assure you that this process will have no lasting effects. Think of it as listening to music at full volume in your room. Or being at a concert. It’s the most painless process possible given the circumstances,” he reassures you both, but you can tell that Peter still isn’t convinced.

“Hey, it’s ok. I promise I’ll be fine. We have to do whatever it takes to get it out of me, ok? That’s what I want,” you say as you grip his arm, turning him towards you.

Peter stares down into your eyes and you can tell he’s searching for something to prove that his hesitance is warranted, but you muster up as much confidence as you can and he has no choice but to sigh and nod.

“Don’t do it. Don’t step inside.”

You ignore Venom, nails digging into your palm as you try to control your emotions as he continues.

“Leave. Now.”

You really hope this process works, because you don’t know if you can live your whole life with a voice that doesn't belong to you echoing in your head. As if sensing your anxiety, Peter takes your hand and lifts it up to his lips, giving it a gentle kiss.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re going to be ok. I'm right here,” he reassures you, voice like honey and it makes your chest feel heavy.

Please god, the universe, whatever being that is up there in control of everything, please let this work.

You can’t lose him. You can’t.

You discard your jacket on a nearby chair as Octavius leads you into the box, but just as you’re about to step inside, you’re no longer able to move your feet.

“I-I can’t move,” you state.

“Come on, sweetheart. There’s nothing to be scared of,” Otto reassures you with a light chuckle.

You shake your head, swallowing. “No, I mean I literally can’t move. I think…I think Venom’s not letting me.”

Peter is quickly at your side while Otto tilts his head slightly.

“Venom?”

“That’s what it calls itself. The symbiote,” Peter clarifies, lightly gripping your leg to drag it forward.

You groan in frustration, the ordeal of the past few days catching up to you. You hardly even notice the angry tears glistening in your eyes .

“Let. Me. Go,” you grunt between gritted teeth, closing your eyes as you put in all your strength and concentration on moving.

Just one step. One. You can do it.

“Do not go inside.”

You can feel the immense concern flooding Peter as he now holds your hand, choosing to be a source of emotional support instead of a physical one. It hurt him to see you so clearly frustrated. There’s nothing in the world he wanted to do more than to give you peace of mind once again.

If he could beat Venom up without any consequences to you, he would do so in a heartbeat.

With another grunt, you’re finally able to move your leg and use the momentum to fling yourself inside. You land on your knees, arms spread out to catch yourself and you hear the door to the glass box slam shut. You look up to see Peter on the other side, eyes wide. In a split second a sound blasts out of the speakers and you feel an excruciating pain travel throughout your body. Your insides feel like they're burning and you can’t help the screech that escapes you. You cradle your head in your hands, curling up into a ball on the ground. You don’t notice it but Peter is banging his fists on the glass, trying to call out to you, but to no avail.

“Doc, turn it off! It’s hurting her!!” he yells to him, but Otto remains still, watching you with zero expression on his face.

“Hello?? Are you not seeing what’s happening in there?!” Peter’s concern is turning into anger as he approaches Otto, fire in his eyes.

“Peter, this is simply part of the process. I believe that a little bit of pain is far better than the hell you two are enduring with that parasite consuming her from the inside,” he states, unfazed by Peter’s close proximity.

Peter’s throat bobs as he stares at Otto silently. He then turns his head and watches helplessly as you cry in pain. He hates that he has to turn his back to you, tears filling his eyes, the scene too much for him to bear.

….

A minute feels a lot like an hour when you’re in the worst pain you’ve ever been in.

You think maybe you passed out or dissociated, because you only come to when silence finally hits your ears. You weakly pull yourself up from the ground, sitting up.

You spot Peter still standing on the other side, eyes on you as his mouth moves rapidly, as if yelling something, but you can’t hear him. The grogginess you feel is all consuming and you almost lay back down again until you feel some kind of presence behind you.

You turn around slowly and, to your horror, a black, slime-like substance is moving erratically behind you.

You scream and scramble to get on your feet, the substance launching itself to your direction but you're quick enough to move out of the way, running towards the door of the glass room. Peter immediately opens it and you throw your whole body out of it, just mere seconds away from the substance grabbing at your ankles. You fall fully on the ground, Peter slamming the door shut, and you pant rapidly as you try to regain your breath.

“What the…what the fuck is that?!?” you say in between breaths, staring at the seemingly conscious black slime that was now once again moving erratically, almost angry like.

Peter rushes over to you, on his knees as he tries to help you up.

“That is your little symbiote friend that set up camp inside of you. What did you call him again? Venom?” Dr. Octavius asks.

You cling to Peter’s arms, watching with wide eyes at what you now knew was Venom itself. You try to regulate your breathing, seeking refuge in Peter’s chest as he holds you tightly.

“So that’s it then? It’s..it’s out of her, right? It won’t control her anymore?” he asks Otto, head lifted up to look at him.

Dr. Octavius nods. “Yes. That should be the end of their partnership. As for possible side effects, I don’t think there’s anything you should worry about,” he says, but you’re too relieved at the first part to even bother caring about what else he had to say.

You let out a shaky breath, a watery smile forming as you turn to look at Peter. He stares at you with the same happy, relieved expression, beautiful brown eyes lit up in joy. He immediately leans his head down to lay gentle kisses on your forehead, arms still wrapped tightly around you.

“You did it. You’re free. I’m so proud of you sweetheart,” he says, excitement still evident despite the low volume of his voice.

You giggle as tears slid down your face, nuzzling your head into his neck as you breathe him in deeply. You both stay like this on the ground, arms wrapped around one another, trying desperately to get as close to each other as possible.

You never want to leave him, and now you wouldn’t have to.

• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊°

You’re walking down the hall with Peter, his arms wrapped around you with your back to his chest, showering you with kisses as you giggle and try to not to trip.

“Peteee,” you whine, although you were enjoying the affection.

You missed this. You missed him.

Peter shakes his head, peppering kisses down your neck. “Nope, I’m not stopping. And you can’t make me,” he says as you manage to turn around in his arms to face him.

You leave a little kiss at the tip of his nose and smile up at him. “Good. ‘Cause I don't want you to stop. Ever.”

He’s looking at you with that light in his eyes that makes you feel like you're the most important thing in his world, and you instantly get butterflies. Just as you're both leaning into one another, a sudden realization pops into your mind.

“Oh, crap. I left my jacket at the lab,” you say, slightly embarrassed by your forgetfulness.

“No worries, we can just go back and get it real quick. And right after that we're going straight home because we definitely need to catch up on missed time,” he suggests with a wiggle of his brows and you laugh, slapping his shoulder lightly.

“Peter, we’ve only been broken up for like two days,” you state, and he kisses your forehead, smirk on his face.

“Two days too long,” he adds, unwrapping his arms from around you before taking your hand in his, walking back towards Dr. Octavius’ lab.

He knocks on the door but receives no answer after a moment. With slightly furrowed brows, he knocks again, you gripping his hand a little tighter, nervous about bothering Otto for a silly jacket after all he’s done for you.

The door finally opens, Otto only holding it halfway as he offers a smile. “Oh, you’re back! Please tell me there isn’t anything wrong?” he says and you shake your head, a sheepish look on your face.

“No, sorry Doc, I just forgot my jacket. I’m sorry if we….” you stop mid sentence, a sudden uneasy feeling over taking you.

You feel goosebumps in the back of your neck, your hand reaching to feel it.

“W-what's going on…” you say under your breath, and you feel Peter’s eyes on you while Dr. Octavius laughs.

“What are you talking about?”

But you ignore him, instead pushing the door to open more, allowing you to see inside the room.

“Hey hey hey, what are you…” you hear Peter start, but he stops when he notices the same thing you do.

There’s a man inside the glass room.

Right where the symbiote was left in.

Your eyes widen as you push past Otto, entering the room.

“No no no…what are you doing?! Get him out of there! It’s going to kill him!” you yell, bolting towards the glass.

Peter enters the room along with Dr. Octavius who just watches on silently as the man inside the glass voluntarily walks closer to the symbiote. It begins to become erratic once more, seemingly taking notice of the man behind it.

You bang your arms on the glass, screaming at the man to move, get out, anything for him to understand that what he was doing was a big mistake. But whether he can hear you or not, the man continues to inch towards the symbiote.

You can hear Peter yelling at Otto but you’re too focused on the man to even pay attention.

Just as you feared, the symbiote latches onto him, causing the man to scream as he is tackled to the ground. The symbiote forcefully enters through his mouth and you watch in horror as black veins pop out visibly throughout his skin. His body begins to shake and contort violently as his screams turn to gurgles and you let out a shriek when his neck snaps, killing the man instantly.

The symbiote escapes from his mouth, sliding its way towards you and latching itself on the wall.

You turn around, horrified and sick, and look towards Peter and Otto with teary eyes.

Peter exchanges the same disturbed look with you before you both turn your attention towards Otto.

“Hmm, interesting,” he states simply.

“W-what?” you ask, the fear still evident in your tone along with your new found annoyance with him.

Did he sacrifice that man’s life on purpose?

“It seems like the symbiote refuses to begin the process of symbioses because it still desires you as its host,” he explains, facing you.

There’s a chill that runs down your spine at his look.

Something’s not right.

“It looks like there’s only one solution to that,” he states and he gives you a smile that makes your stomach twist.

“I’m going to have to kill you, sweetheart.”

Before you can even process his words, you’re immediately pushed out of the way, Peter having shot a web at you to pull you into him. You gasp, taken aback by his action, but when you lift your head up, you notice a metallic looking arm coming from behind Dr. Octavius, shooting in the direction you were once in.

“Peter Parker? Incredible. I always knew there was something special about you,” Dr. Octavius states and you watch anxiously as three more metallic arms snake their way out of his lab coat.

“But being Spider-Man? I never would have guessed it,” he says, shooting another arm towards the two of you.

Peter shoots a web up at one of the pipes on the ceiling, using it to lift you two up as he swings out of the way. You gasp into his chest, his arms keeping you against him.

He lands back on the ground on the other side of the room, mouth on your ear as he frantically instructs “Run as fast as you can. Get out of here.”

You’re shaking as he pulls away, but manage to give him a nod as you make your way towards the exit.

You can hear Peter shooting webs towards Doc as you push open the doors of the lab and run into the hallway.

“Why are you doing this?” Peter questions as he shoots at a cart full of lab materials and flings it towards Otto, who catches it effortlessly with one of his claws.

“Because a species like that, an extraterrestrial parasite that can give its host enhanced senses and abilities, has the potential to change the world, Peter. And if I show the board of Oscorp this, they will continue to fund my research and give me the tools I need to make an impact. Can’t you see that’s what this is about? This is what it’s always been about. To make an actual difference,” he states, and Peter can tell that he truly believes every word he’s saying.

It scares him.

“Doc, I know you’ve only ever cared about changing the world, but this is not the way! That’s a dangerous symbiote that we know nothing about and you’re going to sacrifice so many innocent lives just to even try to understand it. You can’t possibly think that’s worth the risk,” Peter tries to explain, but Otto once again shoots a metal arm at him, succeeding in slicing his chest.

Peter screams and it echoes down the hall you’re in and makes you stop altogether.

What are you doing? Running away while Peter was left to handle that psycho alone?

You know if he was here, he would yell at you to keep running. He’d probably say turning around was incredibly stupid and he would have a better chance at defeating Octavius if he didn’t have to worry about you.

But, there’s only one thing you can truly think about.

“Whatever happens, we’ll do this together.”

Dr. Octavius flings Peter across the room and he lands on a desk, breaking it completely. He groans and gets up shakily, catching his breath before launching himself back in the air, feet out towards Octavius and wrapping themselves around his throat, choking him as he uses his upper body strength to keep himself up on Octavius’ shoulders.

Dr. Octavius struggles to get Peter off, metal arms trying to grab him, but he’s able to dodge each one, putting in all his strength into choking Octavius out as he manages to shoot webs at the claws at the same time.

Otto then rushes into a nearby wall, causing Peter to be slammed against it, hard, knocking him off of him.

He takes in a breath, ensuring oxygen enters his lungs once more, and then hovers over a clearly injured Peter, ready to strike.

Suddenly, something heavy hits the back of his head and he yelps in pain. He turns around and sees you back in the room, head throbbing as he looks down at the microscope you had just thrown at him.

“Really?” He asks, irritated as he rubs his hands on his head.

You try to reach for something else to throw but he shoots a metal arm and it immediately grabs hold of you.

You scream, legs kicking wildly in the air as you try to wiggle out of his grasp but he brings you closer to him, chuckling.

“Oh, I see why you like her so much, Parker. Loyal. Fiery. Beautiful. Wonder how beautiful she’s gonna be once I crush her,” Otto muses, eyes glaring at you as the claw begins to squeeze you tightly.

Peter immediately lands a kick from behind him, taking advantage of his distraction, which sends Otto flying towards the glass box in the middle of the room, but not before his claw releases you, causing you to fall on the ground with a grunt.

A large crack appears on the glass wall he lands on and he hisses in pain.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch her,” Peter warns, shooting web after web at him, sticking him and his arms to the wall.

After making sure Otto showed no signs of being able to escape, Peter runs over to you, helping you up before gripping your shoulders.

“Why did you come back?? I told you to run! He was after you, not me,” he says, the anger evident in his tone clashing with the relief in his eyes.

“That doesn’t mean he wasn’t willing to kill you to get to me. Besides, you’re in this mess because of me and you said it yourself, whatever happens, we’re doing this together. I’m just keeping my end of the bargain,” you state, ready for Peter to argue once again, but instead, he wraps his arms around you, head placing itself atop yours.

“You’re so infuriating, I swear,” he says as he lets out a breath and you can’t help but to laugh lightly, embracing him right back.

“It's what you deserve,” you sigh into him.

You both stand with your arms wrapped around one another, holding on tightly as if the other person were to slip away if you didn't.

“I love you,” he says and you can feel him smile.

“I lo-“ but your words drop automatically when a gasp escapes Peter and you feel him become rigid in your arms. He moves his head down from resting atop yours, and you notice his brown eyes are blown wide, something close to fear and pain swimming within them.

You take in his expression, scared and confused, while also feeling a weird case of lightheadedness.

You notice Peter’s eyes drop down and he lets out a heartbreaking whimper that makes you frantic. Your eyes follow his gaze and upon doing so, you realize the reasoning for Peter’s sudden change of being.

A closed metal claw has penetrated through the lower part of your chest.

Once it shoots out of you, you immediately fall to your knees, eyes remaining forward, overwhelmed with shock and excruciating pain.

Peter immediately turns to look back at Dr. Octavius and sends a nearby item flying to him with his webs, effectively knocking him out.

He then collapses with you, arms cradling you in his lap as his hands scramble to your wound, failing to keep the blood from flowing heavily out of you. There’s tears rushing out of his eyes and he’s shouting panicked phrases at you but you’re unable to make sense of his words, feeling heavy and distant.

You’re gasping for breath, struggling to get it through with the immense pain you were experiencing. You’re unable to keep the small whimpers from escaping you, which fills you with shame, because you can tell how much the sound is setting Peter off.

He’s a mess, crying and calling out for help, hoping someone that heard the commotion in the lab decided to check it out, but it’s no use. If there was anyone in the building, they certainly evacuated at the first sign of trouble.

He doesn’t want to risk leaving you alone and he also doesn’t want to carry you out, knowing any kind of movement could trigger you to lose more blood than you already had. He’s stuck watching you fade away in pain, and Peter’s losing his mind.

“Please, please, please, no…NO! Don’t leave me. You can’t leave me! Oh my god oh my god…”

Peter’s heaving, hands bloodied as he continues to apply as much pressure as he can, but it only makes you cry in pain louder.

This was his worst nightmare.

Tears well in your eyes, Peter’s handsome face becoming nothing but blurs of color.

“L-love…you..,” you’re able to finish and you can hear Peter sob, failing to keep them in check.

“I love you so much. So, so much. And you're gonna be alright, ok? It’s gonna be fine, you’re fine,” he tries to reassure you, hands moving to stroke your cheek, staining your skin with streaks of crimson red.

Your whimpers quiet down, nothing but ragged breaths leaving you as your eyes begin to feel a little too heavy to keep open.

“Yeah, you’re fine baby. You did so good, you’re so brave. It’s going to be ok.”

His words put you at ease.

And then there’s black nothingness.

Peter’s hysterical, sobbing into your neck as he shakes his head.

“No no no, please. Stay with me. I need you..”

He feels the worst pain he has ever felt, the same kind he felt that night at the clock tower with Gwen.

This couldn’t be happening to him. Not again. Not another person he loves.

He’s shaking uncontrollably, clutching your body tightly as he refuses to lift his head up from you.

It’s the reason why he doesn’t notice the symbiote escaping through the cracks of the glass wall and moving closer to you.

When Peter feels a presence near him, he lifts his head up slightly away from you and catches the black substance.

“Stay away from her!” Peter screams, face red and eyes watery as he holds you tighter in his arms, glaring daggers at the symbiote.

“Don’t even think about touching her, you did this! You killed her!” he states, voice cracking as he begins to sob again.

The symbiote is frozen in place, looking as if it was genuinely listening. Peter digs his head back in your neck and the symbiote takes the opportunity to move closer, slowly entering inside your ear.

Peter notices too late, but before he’s even able to say anything, he catches the blood in your chest stopping. Lifting your shirt up a little with shaky hands, he notices the wound beginning to close up, his breath catching in his throat.

His whole frame is a trembling mess, watching with wide, teary eyes as the skin slowly begins to repair itself. He looks down towards your face, breath heavy as his palm cups your cheek.

“Come on, come on,” he breathes out.

Peter never really believed in miracles. Or at least, if he did, he didn’t believe they would ever happen to him. With all the losses and hardships he’s gone through in his life, it was hard to think that anything good could truly happen to him. But, the moment your eyes fluttered open and he could sense the life in you once again, he realized he finally received one.

“P-peter?” you call to him softly, and Peter lets out a relieved sob.

He gently wraps you up in his arms, crying into your neck, words of love and relief pouring out of him.

“You’re ok. You’re ok. I’m here. I’m always going to be here.”

A true miracle.

• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊°

“Peter, you really don’t have to do this,” you state as he opens the door for you.

You enter the inside of an Italian restaurant, the same Italian restaurant Peter had left you crying in front of no less than a week ago.

It was almost unbelievable to you how a week had passed since the incident at the lab and your misadventures with the Alien symbiote.

Peter has barely left your side since, practically moving into your apartment despite the fact that he lived right across from you. He doted on you continuously, making sure you were fine and not experiencing any side effects. You knew at the end of the day that it was, in a way, more for him than for you, understanding that seeing you slip away like you did had triggered the fear of losing you. But you reassured him tirelessly that you were in fact, still very much here and always would be.

He closes the door of the restaurant behind you before intertwining his fingers in yours, leading you to the private table he had reserved at the back of the restaurant. He brings your hand up to his lips as he gives you a gentle kiss, to which your cheeks warm at.

The gentle intimacy with him was always something that made you feel butterflies.

“Oh, but I do. I know I can't take what happened back, but I can at least try to make it better,” he says, pulling out your chair for you to sit in.

You smile gratefully at him, taking a seat.

You spend the rest of the night talking, laughing, and stealing kisses from one another. After all you were put through, things were finally back to how you both wanted it; just you and Peter. Nothing and no one else mattered.

“Can I say something?” Peter asks, interrupting your thoughts.

You nod, putting down the glass of wine you had been sipping from. “Y-yeah. Of course. Go ahead.”

He grabs your hand from over the table, fingers stroking your knuckles gently. There was a nervous energy about him all of a sudden that confused you. You could even feel his leg bobbing up and down beneath the table so you squeeze his hand in reassurance, smiling up at him.

“What’s up, Pete?” you ask softly.

“It’s just…my life has never been easy. There was even a point in my life where I…I didn’t even want to live it anymore. I thought, what was the point, because all I ever felt was the pain and the burden and it felt like too much..darkness. But then, ever since that day you left brownies on my front door, I started to feel like life was livable for those moments. The moments where you bite into the best brownie you’ve ever had in your entire life. The moments where you find yourself genuinely smiling and laughing till your stomach hurts. The moments where you’re with someone who helps you, not forget, but accept and move on and helps you live again. I know that I’m seen as a hero to many people, but, to me, you’re my hero. You’ve saved me more than you can possibly know. I love you with all my heart and I never, ever want to lose you.”

Suddenly Peter stands up from his seat and approaches you, getting down on one knee as he pulls out a box from his back pocket.

You gasp, staring at the diamond ring now held in front of you.

“Will you marry me?” he asks, looking at you with a face so unmistakably full of love and sincerity.

You’re crying as you nod rapidly, a smile breaking out despite the tears. “Yes!”

He places the ring on your finger with shaky hands, a wide grin on his face and tears in his own eyes.

You can’t help the wide range of emotions you’re feeling and just throw yourself at him, unrestrained. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck and you rest your head on his shoulder.

When you’re finally walking out of the restaurant, you’re holding hands and smiling lovingly at each other, giddy and love struck. Peter’s proposal came as a surprise to you, but it was one you very much were ecstatic about. A forever with Peter was all you ever wanted.

Something seemingly makes your expression shift, eyes looking far away and troubled for a moment. Peter notices this and furrows his brows, looking at you in concern.

“You ok?” he asks softly.

Realizing he’s noticed, you quickly compose yourself once again, smile returning as you pause your steps, looking up at Peter.

“Y-yeah. Of course. It’s just..I love you, so much,” you say, as if reminding him, looking into his warm brown hues.

His expression softens, a dazed like smile shared with you.

“And I love you. Forever and always,” he states, leaning his head down to yours.

“No matter what?” you ask him quietly, right before his lips met yours.

“No matter what. I promise. It’s you and me forever, sweetheart,” he reassures you and kisses you sweetly.

.....

...

"Oh, you are in so much trouble," Venom's voice echos in your head with a chuckle.

• ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊° .☆.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊°

DUN DUN DUUUUUN

Possible sequel? :o

Thank you once again for reading this story, I'm very grateful and I hope this ending was ok enough. Till next time 🤧🤍

♡ Tag List ♡

@infp-t-rhi @xx-narcissa @kiki-ren @bambiswriting @edgycatx @supergasming @silverwindptv @bellaiscool @bella-vasquez216 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @marvel-mental-state @thegayseance @friendly-neighborhood-spideyman @train-wrecc

#this? this is fun #love this #recommend this #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #the amazing spiderman #self insert

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bambiswriting · 2 years

Text

headcanons for boba with a trans masc s/o!!

a/n: nobody requested this, I just really wanted to write something very self-indulgent 👉👈

warnings: masculine language used to describe reader, mentions of gender dysphoria, boba and reader are in an established relationship, implied age gap with dom!Boba and sub!Reader, implied n/s/f/w but nothing xplicit

He WILL correct other people if they get your pronouns wrong (if you’ve previously discussed that you’re comfortable with him doing so, of course).

And if someone purposely misgenders you even after being corrected??? Oh boy. Let’s just say Boba will give them a very stern warning.

“Very stern warning” meaning throwing them up against the nearest wall and growling that if they ever so much as LOOK at you again then his face will be the last one they’ll ever see.

If you’re particularly struggling with gender dysphoria, Boba will do absolutely everything in his power to try and help you.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable in all your clothes??? Boba will happily buy you an entirely new wardrobe if it means you’ll feel happier and more like yourself.

Has an array of gender-affirming, masculine nicknames that he loves to use on you. It usually makes you blush so hard your cheeks burn which really brings out his dominant side.

“How’s my little prince doing today, hm?” // “You’re looking particularly handsome today, ad’ika.” // “Attaboy...”

That last one is usually growled into your neck when the two of you are alone...

He’s just generally an incredibly supportive and understanding partner.

If there’s anything he’s unsure about - say he wants to check if you’d be comfortable with him using a particular nickname, for example - he will just straight up ask you. Your comfort and happiness is his #1 priority and he wants to make sure he’s always accommodating your needs and preferences.

#heeeeeeey go read my bestie's thing!#boba fett x reader #boba fett x masc!reader #boba fett #star wars

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bambiswriting · 2 years

Text

Across the Stars || Part Four

series ML | part one | part two | part three | part five

Summary: The symptoms from Rex’s treatment take an unexpected turn.

note: ty @rowansparrow for reading and for some much-needed help w this!

now with a mini-series-within-a-series banner :)

EXPLICIT | 18+ ONLY | angst, smut, needles mention. PLEASE READ THE FOLLOWING WARNINGS CAREFULLY. These apply to events occurring in the very last scene (written in italics): graphic description of corpses in a nightmare sequence, graphic scene of childbirth, blood and gore, character death in a nightmare sequence.

about 4.8k words

Rex’s eyes crack open to the distant sound of his name that’s soon followed by obscure knocking as he rubs the stickiness from his eyelashes. It takes him a moment to register where he is and what had happened earlier. With every small movement of the muscles of his face, there are flakes of dried tears cracking and splitting, ungluing from the skin on his cheeks. His body feels drained, as does his mind. Eyes adjusting, Rex notices that the room is not as bright as it was before he’d let sleep claim him – the sky painted in purples and oranges as the reflection of the sun’s descent bounces off the crystal lake below the balcony. It feels as if he’s been asleep for millennia – groggy and weighted – in another universe. The air is thick – his brain fuzzy. He fixes his gaze to the colors painted by the sunlight on the ceiling above him – the shadow of the blowing drapes. The feel of his child laying on top of him grounds him to this world.

More gentle knocks snap him out of it, urging him to blink the moisture back into his dry eyes. The dryness he now feels contrasts heavily from all the tears that had lulled him and his daughter to sleep – a heavy knockout after a draining breakdown.

Priya is glued to him, her little fingers curled into his shirt and rosy lips puckered from how her cheek squishes against his chest. Lula is tucked under her arm, the red ears poking out from between them. Rex carefully wraps his arms around his daughter to roll her to the side of the bed as non-disruptive as possible, minding the slight bend in the mattress as he sits upright to check the time.

Shit.

Three more light knocks. Words being spoken from the other side of the door. “Is everything okay? I have been informed that you were not present today for treatment.”

Rex stands and pads to the door, rolling his head side to side and quietly unlatching it. He steps outside, peeking at his sleeping baby before closing it carefully behind him.

“Ah,” Rex sighs – scrubbing a hand down his face. “Truthfully, it was a rough morning, though it was not my intention to sleep the day away.”

Bail doesn’t yet speak, but his words are ingrained within the concern in his features – the way his brown eyes scan the exhausted man before him.

“I suppose I should head over to the infirmary, that is, if I’m not too late.” Rex continues to fill the silence, “I’m sure missing a day of treatment isn’t something to take lightly.”

Hands folded behind his back, Bail raises his brows and tilts his chin upwards. Rex’s own brows pinch in confusion when the senator chuckles.

“You’ve got a little something in your hair, Captain.”

“Huh, wh– ”

Reaching to tap around where Bail’s eyes are looking, Rex feels the residue of dried jam, still stuck to the side of his head from this morning. Rex shakes his head and rubs at his temples, quickly remembering the events of this morning that left him feeling helpless and defeated as a father. Beaten. Drained. Rex isn’t sure how long the tears had fallen from their cheeks – unsure of what to do until it all fizzled into a shared slumber – his saving grace.

“It’s alright. This is a lot, for you and your daughter,” Bail says with sincerity, placing his hand on Rex’s shoulder. “Freshen up then head to the infirmary. I’ll inform Dr. Brar, and would be delighted to take little Priya to supper in your stead.”

Rex had been correct in a sense; skipping a dose of the serum would have thrown the entirety of the treatment off course, though there’s no telling what could have happened exactly, according to Dr. Brar. Luckily Rex hasn’t been very active all day, which helps with creating an easy passage for the serum to penetrate and work, and is able to receive the normal dosage, just far later than usual. Dr. Brar was just finishing up for the day when Rex entered, an apologetic smile on his face as the doctor’s eyes lifted from the ‘pad in his hands, gesturing with one hand for his patient to get ready.

“Good evening, is all well?”

“Apologies,” Rex sighs, stripping his shirt and kicking off his shoes. “This morning was, uh, it was rough, Doctor. Ended up sleeping the day away, which is something I… hadn’t done before.”

“I see. Your body is working to accept the chemicals rather than reject them, which means the serum is taking effect – that’s good.”

Rex hums, placing his clothing and shoes on a chair in a neat pile. “It must be, because I was unable to taste my caf this morning.”

The doctor cocks his head – considering.

“Your sudden loss of taste seems to fall under one of the unforeseen, temporary reactions I had mentioned before,” Dr. Brar says simply, inputting notes into his ‘pad as the machine and its parts whir into position.

“Yeah,” Rex chuckles humorlessly, wiggling his fingers against the cool metal as the braces secure themselves in place. “That was definitely… unforeseen.”

“I’ll do some research on your ageusia and its connection to the treatment. Your inability to taste may perhaps be the only reaction, or the first of many.”

“As you’ve said,” he sighs. “You also mentioned that any reactions should clear up by the end of treatment.”

“I did,” the doctor confirms. “They should.”

They should.

“They better,” Rex mumbles under his breath.

That familiar hum of machinery and computers marks the start of the dosage administration – the needles seeping into his skin. In the privacy of his mind and behind closed eyes, Rex flips through different distractions he has banked that could pull him from his current focus.

He sees his wife nearly asleep in the rocking chair he’d built long ago, Gelisa and Garran bundled in each arm as they feed from her – the little soft sounds they make as they drink – the fluttering of their long, delicate lashes. Priya sits on the floor just to the side, quietly playing with her toys and being her siblings’ guardian, as she so often does when it’s the twins' time to feed. Priya perks up when Rex approaches – his body weightless as he nears the ones he loves most in this universe. Gelisa has unlatched and is now fast asleep while Garran keeps going, suckling and staring at his Papa as he stands above, watching in admiration. Rex runs a hand over his wife’s head before reaching to grab little Lissy, holding her close to his chest and moving to sit on the couch with her. Her eyes flutter open but she remains otherwise unbothered; she isn’t a fussy baby. She blinks those gorgeous lashes at her Papa, poking her tongue out between her lips and wrinkling her tiny nose.

Rex feels the smile stretching on his lips and the words falling from them – mouthing them as hears it in the memory.

“My little golden-haired Lissy. Hi, little love.”

Her hand wraps around the tip of Rex’s finger.

“Just a few more minutes, Mr. Gayiyla.”

The doctor’s voice breaks his concentration for only a moment as the memory shifts into another – the scene before him bleeding into a different setting. He’s in their bedroom now, on the bed he and his wife share. It’s dark and quiet, though that quickly changes when his eyes adjust as everything in this memory takes its shape. The mattress softly creaks in a steady rhythm – the wood boards knocking against one another. Naked with a thin layer of sweat coating her skin, she’s right there – he can see her before him, but more specifically, under him.

He can’t help it – he misses her – feeling more anxious and uncertain than he ever has before and there’s a need residing deep inside of him that begs for attention. His eyelids remain shut as he concentrates on what images appear in the darkness behind them, giving in to what he knows this memory holds.

There’s no build-up – no crescendo. Rex finds himself thrown in the middle of it – panting and sticky and losing himself already.

“Rex– oh, fuck… Rex… just like that, baby. Keep going – don’t stop don’t stop don’t you dare stop– ”

He feels her – so warm – so fucking wet. The heat blankets his body – numbs the pressure of the needles – the weight of metal.

“I’ll never stop,” he promised. “You’re mine forever, cyare. You, your heart...” he paused, thrusting into her with more force, leaning forward to capture her lips in an open-mouthed kiss. “…your sweet cunt. Every part of you.”

He feels her arching beneath him – the press of her perfect, soft breasts against his chest. The bite of nails digs into his back. There's the squeeze of her thighs at his hips.

Rex’s fingers twitch – longing to touch her. They move on their own accord – strumming her clit.

“You hear that? Osik… the sounds your pussy makes as you take me has my head spinning– ”

The fucking sounds. Wet, slick, slippery noises that squelch, suck, and pop on repeat as he rocks into her – drills into the depths of her heat. His ears become engulfed with it all, drowning out the distant beeping of the vital monitors.

“Rex, baby, I’m gonna cum if you keep talking like that… oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck– ”

“Cum, mesh’la. I wanna feel you strangle my cock, then I’m gonna fill you up so fucking good, you’ll have me leaking out of you for hours– ”

It’s been far too long since he came inside of his wife – felt the swell of himself engulfed in pliable, pulsating walls. The sensation is impossible to describe in words, but he can imagine it perfectly – remembering it in utter clarity. Feeling it happen through strong, unbreakable memories. Her palms cupping his face. The breaths they shared. The entangled limbs and heaving chests. Seeing it as if he were braced over her now, looking deep into her eyes.

The muscles of his abdomen begin to flex – dancing beneath the firm restraints.

“Yes yes yes – oh my f-fuck – don’t stop don’t stop– ”

He can feel the groans and whines deep in his chest – the way they’d bubble and blow. Heat then travels to his face – the tips of his ears. His mouth is latched to her cunt – her thighs acting as earmuffs. He hears her heavy breaths, her mewls, her cries.

“Rex…”

“That's it. Say my name, cyare,” he hummed, tongue gliding through her sopping slit – dipping into her cunt. “Never stop saying my name.”

A series of loud, rapid beeping shakes Rex from the erotic memory – the heart monitor spiking.

Rex’s eyes fly open and his heart pounds in his chest. His mouth feels full of saliva and stuffed with cotton at the same time – the taste of her fading away. Eyes lowering, he easily spots the bulge straining under his briefs.

Fuck.

“Crazier things have happened, son,” Dr. Brar says plainly – unfazed – having noticed before Rex had. If Rex was able to shake his head out of pure embarrassment, he would, instead squeezing his eyes shut and steadying his breaths until the beeping of the monitor slows to a normal, unalarming rate. Tilting his head up once the restraints are lifted, he glares at the half-hard appendage between his legs, now less noticeable as the excitement fizzles.

Well, that’s one way to pass the time.

Rex isn’t sure what to say, rubbing at the back of his neck as he sits up and swings his legs over the edge, his hands folded in his lap in an attempt to shield what's left of his dignity. A wordless silence fills the air as the machines fasten themselves back into their terminals until he lands on: “The mind tends to, uh, wander when avoiding the present disturbance of tiny needles sticking into the skin.”

“No need to explain, Mr. Gayiyla. Here.” Dr. Brar approaches and hands Rex a smaller data pad, one that could fit into his pocket. “Use this to log any and all reactions and symptoms throughout the treatment. You’re the first patient to receive treatment like this, and the data would be extremely useful for us if we should treat any others who wish to pursue this course as you have.”

“I can do that,” Rex agrees – his ears still burning from embarrassment.

“Eat. Rest.” Dr. Brar raises a brow. “Come back in the morning next time, hm?”

Back in his suite, Rex lays on the bed after a quick shower and change of clothes. He’d braved a trip to the banquet hall for any leftover food that had yet to be cleared out, scoring some bread that would fill the pit in his gut, ignoring the tastelessness of it as it went down. It had done the trick, satiating the hollow rumbling that Rex was no longer used to after these past couple of years – years of not having to live off rations.

The moonlight shines through the room, illuminating the furniture and mosaic accents. Priya is with Leia, playing after supper as they have been – soaking up the time together. It's calm and quiet, the perfect setting to call his wife to recount the day's events.

Comfortable under the quilts with the comm sitting just below his chin, letting Lula snuggle up to him in his daughter’s absence, Rex goes on about his tasteless breakfast and extra long nap – forgoing to mention Priya’s breakdown. The last thing Rex wants is to detail his weakness – the defeat he felt as a father when the comm rang and rang in an attempt to contact his partner in this life. It’s not her fault; he feels that it’s his. Away from home, he’s solely in care of their baby girl and placing the weight of worry on his wife’s shoulders is not something he’ll do – not something she needs.

“So it’s just… gone? Nothing?”

Rex hums in confirmation. “Completely unexpected, too. Pri and I were eating breakfast, and it just… wasn’t there,” he recalls. “I know the taste of bland foods – had plenty of that to last me a lifetime – but this was different. It all felt almost fuzzy and too thick for my mouth going in, like my tongue was numb. Even the caf, cyare.”

“Sounds like the doctor didn’t know what you could or would experience,” she comments.

“That’s because he didn’t, and still doesn’t,” he sighs. “He’s working off speculation – data gathered from other similar treatments and my bloodwork. I’m to log any and every reaction experienced throughout the treatment.”

“You’re strong, Rex. Unbreakable.”

He doesn’t miss the way she speaks the words – the labored pauses between them.

“You… alright?”

“Yeah,” she answers with despondency. “Just tired is all.”

Rex considers her reason, deciding to lighten the mood – to put a smile on her gorgeous face, even if he’s unable to see it. Her smile is infectious, and it’s something he’d be able to feel through the comm, he’s sure of it.

“Well, you’ll get a kick out of what happened during treatment today.”

“Oh? Do tell.”

He’d been embarrassed at the time – and still a little bit even now, thinking about how he’d unintentionally let his walls collapse like that in front of somebody other than his wife – but he knows she’d enjoy the anecdote. Rex longs to see, to feel, her smile, even if at his expense.

“I may’ve had an, uh… an erection right there on the table,” he chuckles, running his palm across his forehead. “Strapped down and getting poked at and all.”

“Oh stars,” she tries to hold back laughter – snorting and pausing to collect herself. “What did the doctor say?”

“That he’s seen crazier things. Suppose that was meant to make me feel less like a di’kut,” he jokes.

“What were you even thinking about?”

“Well,” he starts – adjusting to press himself further into the pillows. “You. Us. In our bed, probably making the twins, if I recall.” Rex grins – the memory coming back to him. “It was like I was there again – hearing, seeing, feeling everything.”

“How in the universe would you know which time it was when you knocked me up?” she asks in amusement. Rex can practically see the incredulous smile and eye roll with every word – feels it in the growing strength in her voice.

Chewing his lip, he shuts his eyes and recalls how it had felt to have his youngest daughter close her tiny hand around his finger – the warmth and security – the unvocalized love and trust.

“Before that memory, I had one of the twins. Well, of all of us together. You were feeding them, exhausted and worn out. Pri was playing at your feet, then I came in and scooped Gelisa into my arms to sit on the couch with her. All of it – just as vivid.”

“Okay, Jedi,” she titters, and Rex laughs.

“Oh, my beloved, I’m no Jedi.”

Just as he says that, soft knocks sound at the door, followed by the enthusiastic and muffled voice of his kid. “Papa!”

“Pri just got here,” Rex says into the comm. “She’ll be so excited to talk to you. Hang on a sec.”

He sets down the comm and quickly heads over to the door. Priya’s arms wrap around his leg before he can open it all the way.

“Hey little love.” Rex takes a knee and grabs the toddler’s hands. “There’s someone on the comm who wants to talk to you.”

Her golden eyes light up as Rex scoops her up by her underarms then sits her on the bed – her legs swinging freely off the side.

He picks up the comm, and before passing it to Priya, hears the faint buzz of static.

What? She was just there.

Instead of making anything of the sudden and inexplicable disconnection, for his daughter’s sake, Rex holds back any concerned and distraught expressions, instead quickly switching off the comm, taking a seat at Priya’s side and grabbing her to sit on his lap. He tosses the comm away, and she shoots him an inquisitive look – head tilted up to analyze any thoughts or emotions displayed on his face. Rex knows her tactics – like father, like daughter. He wills the visage of a skilled Sabacc player, not risking a glance towards the discarded communication device. She has to have figured out who it was on the other end – a child too bright to have been part of this universe for only two and a half years. Anything he displays could give it away – trigger a sadness in his baby that he can’t bear to see.

“It was Uncle Echo,” he quietly tells the white lie, cautious of anything that could betray his tone. “He was just updating me on some things before the signal got interrupted.”

The signal had been operating just fine – the connection crystal clear. Nothing seemed out of sorts… except perhaps the fragility in his wife’s voice – the front of exhaustion and the mask of wellbeing. She’s been immobile and sleeping a lot lately, drained from providing and healing. Rex understands, except he’s not there as he should be and feels a shroud of guilt cocooning him because of it. He’s parsecs away and the realization hits him: he isn’t privy to what his wife is truly feeling. If not for his daughter sitting on his lap, watching for any twitch of his lips or pinch of his brows, Rex would be beside himself. Instead, the emotions sit stagnant within his chest, burrowing deeper every second he waits to speak.

But why did she disconnect?

Rex clears his throat, attempting to expel the discomfort building within. He decides it best to not continue on the course of the comm’s disconnection. He always has been a flimsy liar, and his chest aches at the thought of the lie he’d just told his baby girl. A change of subject is crucial.

“How was supper, sweetheart?”

It had been difficult to wake the next morning, bright and early in time for treatment, but Rex made it work. His joints groaned at him – his muscles tender and fragile. He’d left his suite a few minutes earlier than usual in order to accommodate for the agonizing walk to the infirmary.

The rest of day five had seemed to move in slow motion. He was in and out of treatment, which had been the easy part. Rex had operated everything afterwards submerged in a canister of molasses – boneless and weighed down by duracrete. The planet’s gravity felt a thousand times stronger, pulling him down into the earth as he trudged along – feet buried in coarse dirt.

Once he’d gotten back to the suite, Rex collapsed into bed, too weak and fatigued to find food or care that his stomach felt like it’d been caving in on itself. He willed enough energy only to strip off his shirt and tuck himself under the quilts.

Now, in the warm sunset light filtering through the drapes into the empty room, Rex is alone and wants nothing more than to let his body rest before the next day comes – before he has to do it all over again. Priya went with Leia to have another sleepover, a suggestion made by Bail so that Rex could have a night of uninterrupted recuperation.

Rex feels that it'll become the preferred arrangement for the rest of their stay on Alderaan – for both his and Priya's sakes.

Something inside of Rex is deteriorating. A chunk of him begins to rot as his body works with the serum in fighting to reverse his accelerated aging – he feels it. The change is there and he can only hope he sees the finish line as he'd been promised.

She can't see me like this.

His thoughts spiral to his wife. Something is off and gut-twisting guilt plagues him for not having the energy to even attempt to contact her today. Rex shakes his head, digging his palms into his eyes to keep the tears from forming.

Ahsoka would've called if something was wrong.

His wife and infants are under the best care – that he knows for sure. They're under constant watch. Ahsoka is part of the family – will protect them at all costs. She'd be privy to his wife's feelings and thoughts, though why she'd keep anything from Rex, he has no clue.

As his eyes start to grow too heavy to stay open, Rex promises himself that he'll call Ahsoka tomorrow.

He’s too hot – a furnace burning under his skin. There’s lava in his marrow – melting his bones. His head feels like it’s swollen and everything inside of it pulsates and throbs as he thrashes it side to side. The rise and fall of his sweat-glistened chest has become rampant and uncontrolled. His limbs twitch and tense.

Rex is fast asleep, unaware of his body's reactions and is none the wiser about how the terror he's submerged in drowns him – fills his head with fear and peril. Self-doubts and worst fears toe the same line in Rex's subconscious – fates changed and memories twisted.

“The first one is out - a girl, sir!”

She isn’t crying.

It’s loud. So much screaming – blood curdling screaming. Shouting. Crying – tears burning from exhaustion and strain. Rex holds her tight, looking over her shoulder at the delivery of his children. He sees her face – her head thrown back – jaw wide with excruciating pain and eyes rolled into her skull. His breathing picks up with anxiety, knowing there’s nothing more he can do for her. All he can do is wait.

Blood. So much blood. Fluids. The horrendous concoction paints her inner thighs and the ladies’ hands. It spurts onto Rex. His newborn is coated in it – glued in her hair. Towels and linens are ruined with it. He’s afraid. She’s withering away in his arms as her body musters all the exertion it can. They’re taking everything from her – draining her lifeforce. There’s one more then she can let go – heal.

“One more!” one of them calls.

“Push!” the other calls.

Rex’s bones are rattling but he’s otherwise frozen. He can’t speak – can’t open his mouth. Words are lost on him as he continues to watch her body contract and expel – eyes locked on the head slowly easing its way into the world. Every sound morphs into a faint, steady ringing as tiny limbs pop out from between her legs. Guided out of the canal, Rex’s son is born.

He isn’t crying.

“It’s a boy,” he hears a steady voice say - coming through the cotton in his ears. “We’ve a girl and a boy.” The voice fades again as she instructs another. “Get them breathing!”

The body in Rex’s arms has gone limp – her head lulled to the side against his shoulder. Air squeezes itself from his lungs as his chest constricts painfully tight. Ribs cracking – piercing his breaking heart. They’re trying to peel her from his grasp but he’s not willing to let go. He can’t breathe and the room is spinning and the roof is collapsing on them. The weight of the debris buries the two of them together, just as it should be.

“How are they?” a nearby voice asks with frantic urgency.

“I can’t get them breathing!” another voice cries.

In the pitch black from under the rubble, Rex sees his newborns, his babies, fixed with breathing apparatus – chests motionless and eyes closed. He reaches for them, but cannot make contact. Every inch he moves has them sliding further away. There’s no more oxygen. No escape from this hell. Rex can’t even cry for them – tears too sweet a luxury for a failed father such as himself.

The twins’ lifeforces ascend from their bodies in a brilliant gold light, infant hands balled into fists as they float in the direction of their mother’s body, beckoning to her. Still in Rex’s arms, her cold skin heats with warmth as that same golden light rises from her lifeless body, reaching to grab hold of her babies. Rex moves towards them, standing on his tiptoes and just inches away from making contact, when something grabs his ankle, pulling him into the earth. The offending arm is covered in white armor painted with a familiar blue and splattered with crimson, soon joined by at least a dozen more just like it, all reaching towards Rex to drag him under. Armored arms of his fallen brothers wrap around him, and Rex watches above as his wife and newborns’ golden lights fade away before his vision goes black.

He’s pulled under.

When his vision is restored, Rex is staring at the roof of something too close to his face – his nose nearly touching it. Laying on his back in a bed of earth, he reaches around but is blocked in by something on all sides – something that is not unlike a coffin. The faces haunt him in his eternal imprisonment – the screams and wails high-pitched in his ears.

Suddenly the one side of his coffin fades away and opens up to another. Turning his head, Rex sees a little girl, laying on her back just as he is, motionless and just out of arm’s reach. A tiny peephole above shines a thin, bright light in the dirt, just above her head. Blinking his eyes to focus, the little girl’s appearance and features become clear. The realization hits him and the unbridled scream of terror that rips from Rex’s chest makes her head turn.

Her normally warm, exuberant eyes are void. The dark curls on her head are caked with mud. Her once perfect, soft, youthful skin is cracked with spidering lines like she was never human – a broken, porcelain doll. Her clothes are tattered and singed, but Rex recognizes them as the last outfit he’d seen her in. No tears bless him as he stares at his eldest daughter, imprisoned just as he is. He reaches for her, but just like before, it’s fruitless.

Priya’s empty eyes stare in his direction. As she opens her mouth to speak, something small and slimy crawls past her pale lips and across her hollow cheek, disappearing into her ear.

The voice that comes from her is too innocent and lively – doesn't fit the scene. Rex recognizes his daughter's voice all the same.

“Papa?”

tags: @rowansparrow @thefact0rygirl @baba-fett @spaceydragons @bambiswriting @gotomarvelgal @paige6768 @masteracewindu @starwarschicken @kriffclone @fett-djarin @itsagrimm @space-b33 @moonstrider9904 @megafrost4 @salaminus @bad-stubers @literallydontlook @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @echos-secret-tattoo @damerondala @tsundere-cherry-girl @sageislostinspring @rain-on-kamino

#captain rex x reader #captain rex #the clone wars #the bad batch #star wars #self insert

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bambiswriting · 2 years

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Venomed

Summary: What once was a beautiful relationship with Peter, turns quite venomous…

Warnings: Mentions of blood, death, and violence.

Notes: Oh god has it been more than a month since my last update? I’m sorry for the extreme delay but I truly want to thank everyone for being so understanding and for continuously showing love to this fic. The next part will be the finale so I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read this story and for all your kind comments and messages. They really do encourage me, especially when I need it the most, & I appreciate it all immensely ♡

Part 4

Part 5

It’s morning and you wake up feeling groggy and exhausted. You turn over to look at Peter, remembering the events that transpired last night, but when you do, the scream that erupts from your throat shakes your entire body.

Peter is laying beside you, lifeless brown eyes staring up at the ceiling as blood pools all around him, coating you in it as well. Slashes and claw marks litter his body along with a severely deep gash on his throat, and you fall backwards out of the bed as you scramble to get away. You’re hysterical, tears blinding you as they cascade rapidly, you’re shrieks unrestrained and deafening.

“This is what happens when you let him get in my way,” Venom’s voice booms in your head.

You’re immediately woken up once again and you sit up instantly, panting and trembling as you look around the room wildly, eyes falling on Peter’s figure beside you.

Alive and in one piece.

He’s awake as well, eyes watching you in concern as he sits up, hands gripping your shoulders reassuringly.

“Hey, you’re ok, everything’s ok. It’s just a dream,” he says gently.

You try to steady your breath, eyes closing as you concentrate on erasing the horrific image of Peter’s body from your mind.

“I’m a monster,” you whisper after a moment.

“No, you’re not. Don’t say that,” he counters.

You frown, eyes on him.

“Are you forgetting what I did last night? I murdered those people. I literally bit their heads off! I-I can’t do this. I’m so scared of what I’m going to do next. Of what it’s going to make me do next,” you say, exasperated.

“I’m not going to let it-”

“How?!” you interrupt harshly, getting out of the bed as you begin to pace around the room.

“When will you stop kidding yourself, Peter? You can’t stop me. I could do that same thing I did last night to you and you know it. It’s like…I can tell that it’s toying with you for now. It’s not fully trying to hurt you because it knows how much I…” you pause, letting out a deep sigh, no longer pacing as you stop in place to look directly at him.

“I can’t risk hurting you, Pete. I could never live with myself if I did. I think…I think it’s best if I just go to Dr. Octavius and handle this alone. And if there’s no solution to this, then I need you to stay away from me. For good.”

For a moment, you’re both mute, and you start to think that maybe the best course of action would be for you to leave, but just as you’ve made up your mind about it, Peter speaks up.

“Wow,” he breathes out, running a hand through his messy strands.

“I never thought I would be on the receiving end of that decision. You know the ‘it’s too dangerous to be with me so I need to push you away’ one,” he says, and there’s a light humor to his tone.

Your brows instinctively furrow, curious as to where he was going to go with this.

“Guess you know what that feels like now. Loving someone so much that you couldn’t live with yourself if they got hurt because of you. You realize that, although it’ll kill you to do it, you need to push them away, because you know what the outcome will be if you don’t.”

His eyes avert from yours, the tension visible in his throat as he swallows.

That’s when you finally understood it all.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

You understood the hurt in his eyes that night when he had broken up with you.

“I’m not going to go through this again. I can’t go through this again.”

The reason why every word he said was laced with such sadness despite the fact that he had willingly chosen to do this to you both.

“You…you said you loved me,”

“That’s exactly why I’m doing this.”

It wasn’t because he was selfish; it was because he loved you more than he loved himself.

You begin to regret the words you had said to him, the way you had been acting these past few days. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any of it.

“But, you know, being in your place now, I understand why you got so angry with me. Because…who am I to make that decision for you?” His words bring you out of your thoughts, forcing you to concentrate solely on him.

“It’s like you said, I took away your choice, just like you’re doing to me now. And…yeah, I have to admit that sucks,” he says, and you can already see the apology written in his eyes.

“But, I want my choice. Hell, I’ll fight for it if I have to. Because I choose you. Everyday, any time, no matter what my ending will be if I do. I choose you because I love you, and I would rather die loving you than live without you.”

Your eyes are locked on one another’s; his honey colored hues putting you in a trance, his words echoing in your head.

As if with a snap of some metaphorical finger, all the deep anger you had for him completely vanishes; a new warmth fills your chest that makes your heart beat rapidly and your head feel hazy.

Without warning, you bolt towards the bed, tackling Peter in a tight embrace, forcing him to fall back into the mattress as your arms wrapped themselves around him.

He grunts, your strength catching him off guard before he quickly recovers, enveloping you fully.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, nuzzling your head into his neck.

He breathes you in deeply, hands digging themselves into your hair.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one that’s sorry for putting you through that, for making the same stupid mistakes and never learning. And I’m sorry that this happened to you. If I didn’t leave you alone that night, maybe this wouldn’t have been happening...”

You stiffen against him, immediately unwrapping yourself from his arms, straddling him as you sit up on your knees.

“Pete, you can’t blame yourself for this. There’s no way this is your fault. All the blame is on this monster, not you,” you say with a frown.

Just as Peter’s about to respond, however, you’re suddenly hit with lightheadedness. Your body begins to feel abnormally heavy, like you were being filled up with sand, and as you realize your unable to move, you feel your consciousness drift away.

Your eyes close for a moment, but once they reopen, your orbs are completely white.

Peter's frightened eyes are glued to you as a familiar deep voice begins to speak from out of your mouth.

“You know I can hear everything you’re saying about me, right?” Venom states, and when you blink, your eyes are back to their normal color.

You return with a gasp, body shuddering. Peter remains silently staring up at you, completely perplexed. You try to even out your breathing, running a hand through your hair as you attempt to ground yourself.

You will not let Venom get to you anymore. You will not be a helpless pawn it can use in this game it’s created. Not anymore.

Your fists clench at your sides, choosing to respond aloud.

“Good, cause I want you to hear. You’re vile and evil. A monster. You killed those innocent people!”

Once you finish, your eyes close once again and they’re back to being fully white once they reopen, expression morphing into one of annoyance.

“Why are you making me look like the bad guy? Innocent people? Do you really believe that?”

Another blink and your eyes are back to normal.

“Yes! What, are you going to justify slaughtering them?!”

Blink.

“They were the real monsters! Are you forgetting what they were planning on doing when we encountered them?”

Blink.

Your mind wanders back to last night and the scene plays out in your head.

Swinging around the city as Venom, you noticed a woman on the street walking into an alleyway with a group of men trailing behind her…

There was shuffling and screaming and when you swung in, you saw one of the men restraining her as another roughly grabbed at the bottom of her skirt.

You knew what they were going to do.

As you silently process it all, Peter is watching you in awe, fascinated and disturbed by the way Venom was communicating through you. He’s unsure whether he should cut in, not knowing if an interruption could cause some form of harm to you. He wasn’t sure how it all worked, but he didn’t want to risk causing you any more pain than it already had.

Your eyes are back to white once Venom is certain that you understood.

“The only innocent person there was that woman, and we saved her.”

You find yourself torn.

On one hand, Venom was right; Those men were criminals, getting ready to commit one of the most heinous of crimes.

They were the real monsters.

And maybe eliminating them for good was the only way to ensure no one else was met with that horrible fate. Certainly they didn’t deserve to continue polluting the world with their presence. Maybe Venom was justified in…

“No!” you say, and it’s honestly more to yourself than to Venom. “That doesn’t make it ok. Killing people is not the solution. It should never be the solution!”

“So what, you just want me to starve?”

“If it means not killing the citizens of New York, then yeah, that sounds like a much better option,” you state, clearly angered by Venom’s stubbornness.

“Is this the thanks I get for not eating your boyfriend?”

At this, there’s a shift that takes place within you. It's a look in your eyes that’s so subtle, anyone would have been able to miss it. Peter, however, catches it immediately, and he becomes extremely uneasy, knowing what that usually entails.

“Remind me. Whatever happens to you, I feel, and it works vice versa, right?” you ask.

“That is right,” Venom responds.

You nod slowly. “Good to know.”

Then, without any warning, a loud smack echoes in the room after your hand connects roughly with your right cheek.

You let out a pained yelp before your eyes switch back to fully white as Venom shrieks, Peter grabbing your hands immediately in concern as he sits up from below you.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” he says as he restrains you, worried you might further try to hurt yourself once again.

“How dare you!” Venom bellows, and before Peter can react, your hands rip themselves from out of his hold and instead grab at his neck.

You force him down on the bed again, pinning him on his back as you apply pressure on his throat, Peter sputtering as he desperately tries to get your hands off of him.

“You were nothing before I made use of you! You were a waste of flesh and bone, and if it wasn’t for me, you’d still be weak. Yet here you are, praising the very person who diminished your self worth. Well then, if I’m going to be painted as the villain, then so be it,” Venom growls.

Peter manages to tear your fingers away from his neck, using all his weight to launch himself forward, pushing you onto your back as he now towers over you.

Using his knees to lock you in place, his hands pin yours down, teeth clenching as he fights to keep you beneath him.

Venom, as you, is snarling and thrashing around wildly, trying to escape his hold

“Let me go!” Venom shrieks.

Peter notices that your eyes have not changed back to normal and assumes that Venom was keeping you completely subdued. This sets him off.

“No, not until you let her go! Get out of her. Now!” He yells, grunting as he musters up all his strength to keep you from escaping his grip, yet not enough to hurt you.

That was the real struggle with fighting Venom; His need to overthink every move he made because at the end of the day, you would be the one who would get hurt.

“When will you get it through your pathetic human brains? I will never let go! We are one! We are Venom!”

“You know, I’m getting real tired of hearing you say that. It’s almost like you’re trying to make it a thing. I hate to break it to you, but it’s never going to catch on,” Peter responds in between the struggle.

Before it even begins to ring, Peter knows he’s getting a call. He feels the vibrations in his back pocket and he curses out loud at the timing. With one hand he pins your arms down, putting in as much force as possible as he uses the other to grab his phone. He’s struggling to keep you down with just one hand but when he sees the name flash on his lockscreen, he knows it’s too important to ignore.

“Dr. Octavious! Hey! No, I’m not busy right now. You caught me at a great time,” he says between gritted teeth, your body under him now beginning to knee at him.

“Yeah, we can head over there in a few. Perfect, see you then,” he says and swiftly hangs up the phone, throwing it across the room.

His attention is now fully on you, both hands back to keeping your arms at bay.

“Enjoy it while it lasts. Just got confirmation that your days are numbered, Venom ” Peter states with a small smirk.

“Then you should start planning your goodbyes, Peter Parker,” and the tone in which it’s speaking makes the smirk fade from Peter’s lips.

“Because if I go down, I’m taking her with me.”

With that, your eyes fall shut, your body no longer fighting him off. Peter stares at your unmoving form, eyes blinking rapidly as he feels his chest tighten. It’s only because he can see your chest slowly rising and falling that he doesn’t go directly into panic mode, but Venom’s words ring in his head like a bell and it’s making it difficult for him to breathe.

Your eyes flutter open a few moments later, a small groan escaping you as he watches you anxiously.

“What happened?” you ask, eyes squinting.

“I-I don’t remember anything after I-...” you fall silent as your eyes adjust and drift to the angry red marks on Peter’s neck, widening once you understand what they were.

“Peter..” you breathe out, brow scrunching in sadness and shame as you sit up, hands hesitantly reaching out for his face.

Peter immediately shakes his head, leaning his face into your hands, allowing you to caress his cheeks. He rests his own hands over yours, doe eyes silently reassuring you.

“It’s ok. It’s not you, remember? I know that,” he says, but he notices that your gaze is still on his throat.

He pulls you in closer to him, kissing you with nothing but all the love and gentleness he can give. He then rests his forehead against yours, allowing both your breaths to fill the silence.

“Doctor Octavius called. He said that your results are ready and we should head over as soon as possible” he admits.

Your expression is heavy in concern, but he kisses away the worried lines on your forehead, thumbs rubbing soothing circles on your hands that remained resting on his cheeks.

“Hey, no matter what happens, we’re gonna do it together. I’m not going to leave you. Not again, not ever. We both made our choices this time, right?” He asks, and his brown eyes look at you with such softness that it makes butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Right,” you say and you softly nuzzle your nose against his, causing him to close his eyes with a blissful sigh.

He tries his best to enjoy this tender moment with you, to fully take in every loving exchange you shared, but Venom’s words remain a constant in his head.

Peter always worried that he would put you in danger due to his life as Spider-Man. He spent every day dreading the possibility of you being forced into a life threatening situation all because of him.

He just would have never guessed that the day you were, it wouldn't be because of him; but because of your own self.

—————————————————————-

♡ Tag List ♡

*I honestly don’t know why but some of tags don’t work & Im so sorry. If your name is on the list but it didn’t correctly tag you, please let me know if you prefer to be messaged instead for when I post the next part 🤧*

@infp-t-rhi @xx-narcissa @pr3ttyj3sus @kiki-ren @mscqstle @bambiswriting @edgycatx @supergasming @silverwindptv @bellaiscool @bella-vasquez216 @ginger-swag-rapunzel @marvel-mental-state @thegayseance @oswin05 @friendly-neighborhood-spideyman @train-wrecc

#*Drake and Josh meme* I love this fic more than I love myself #venom #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x reader #the amazing spider-man #self insert #spider-man #marvel

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