liz-allyn

[liz-allyn]

do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone. 

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit. 

But. 

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app. 

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do. 

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play. 

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones. 

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena. 

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you. 

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy. 

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer. 

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter. 

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering. 

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.  

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip. 

Why did guys in real life never moan? 

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure. 

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low. 

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only. 

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you. 

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste? 

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy,  acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin. 

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.” 

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his. 

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?” 

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper. 

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you. 

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper. 

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him. 

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?” 

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds. 

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you. 

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you. 

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly. 

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl. 

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy. 

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?” 

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against. 

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded. 

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.” 

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect. 

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there. 

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow. 

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.  

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to. 

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear. 

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set. 

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you. 

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door. 

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time. 

Some might even say, with a pep in your step. 

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed. 

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat. 

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly. 

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on. 

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing). 

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person. 

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets. 

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration. 

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze. 

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too. 

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise. 

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips. 

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago. 

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.” 

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock. 

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms. 

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it). 

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal. 

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before?? 

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot. 

A knock on your door startled you. 

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically. 

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door. 

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused. 

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it. 

He looked the same. 

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you. 

Tonight, he���d clearly showered after drills. 

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them. 

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral. 

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away. 

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse. 

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room. 

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced. 

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t. 

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room. 

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again. 

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it. 

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep. 

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react. 

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation. 

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again. 

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you. 

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly. 

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him. 

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob. 

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway. 

Of course he did. 

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately. 

Objectively, Bob was the best. 

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you. 

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you. 

He pushed himself off the bed. 

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either. 

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay. 

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it. 

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question. 

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break. 

You kissed him. 

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer. 

He was so soft. 

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him. 

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention. 

“Can I show you?” you asked. 

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry. 

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely. 

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous. 

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him. 

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard. 

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.  

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on. 

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze. 

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently. 

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you. 

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually. 

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked. 

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob. 

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered. 

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them. 

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett. 

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard. 

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him. 

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need. 

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch. 

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission. 

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations. 

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing. 

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing. 

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it. 

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric. 

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob. 

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again. 

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob. 

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering. 

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob. 

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking. 

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did. 

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled. 

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him. 

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.” 

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him. 

It was better with him. 

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing. 

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good. 

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there. 

You felt like you were floating. 

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him. 

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he? 

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life. 

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right. 

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips. 

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you. 

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself. 

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner. 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin. 

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin. 

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned. 

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.” 

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had. 

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless. 

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered. 

He wasn’t done, either. 

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…” 

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses. 

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man. 

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace. 

You loved the feeling of his skin. 

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you. 

Fuck. 

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders. 

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric. 

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself. 

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him. 

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick. 

Holy. Shit. 

He looked like a work of art. 

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big. 

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl. 

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky. 

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat. 

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again. 

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it. 

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact. 

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you. 

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him. 

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them. 

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking. 

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster. 

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much. 

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly. 

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot. 

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you. 

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more. 

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn. 

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect. 

Fuck, he felt so good. 

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon. 

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked. 

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.  

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.  

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything. 

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop. 

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.  

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying. 

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core. 

He knew, somehow. 

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising. 

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…” 

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him. 

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back. 

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop. 

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant. 

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him. 

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips. 

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you. 

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you. 

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips. 

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher. 

And then. 

And then he got close. 

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you. 

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it. 

When you came back, you were on your side. 

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.  

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction. 

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. 

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

//

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

[liz-allyn]

the stages of us

peter parker x fem!reader

summary: peter parker starts an internship at oscorp, matched into a robotics team led by you — you, who has peter believing in love at first sight. and despite every instinct in his body, peter can't help but fall further and more helplessly in love with you... even if you happen to have a boyfriend.

wc: ~8.8k

cw: discussions around the concept of cheating, an insane amount of pining, mentions of m!masturbation, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (f!receiving), no seriously like a lot of munch!peter, fingering, praise kink, squirting

an: this is for anyone who would rather read my series as one long fic! thank you for all the love on this, i had so much fun writing it

masterlist and taglist

on peter parker's first day at his junior year internship for oscorp, he knew his life would change forever — he was just wrong about how.

he'd dreamed of this opportunity since high school, being able to work in an actual lab and have access to world-class equipment and the one-of-a-kind minds that came with it.

the one-of-a-kind mind that came with it.

peter met you thirty minutes into the onboarding presentation, and he suddenly didn't understand how he'd gone twenty-one years without you in his life. from the first time he was graced with your contagious smile, he was determined to have it as a guiding light through the rest of his days.

he'd never admit it, but that was the day peter started to believe in love at first sight.

you were leading the group on a tour through the facility, going over the expectations and rules, covering everything the internship would entail. he might have imagined it, wished a bit to hard for it, but he swore your eyes caught his more than anyone else's in the group. his jaw ached from the hour-long straight smile he couldn't seem to knock as your melodic voice blessed his ears. fire safety had never sounded so sweet.

an hour and a half in, you broke the large bunch off into their designated teams for the semester, and peter felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest as he saw you approaching his group.

"hey guys! i know you just heard me drone on for a lifetime, but i wanted to reintroduce myself. i'm (y/f/n) (y/l/n), but please, just call me (y/n). i'll be leading you guys as we work on the robotics portion of the project. i look forward to getting to know everyone on my team." you greeted everyone with your heart-stopping smile once again.

my team. not only was peter lucky enough to be graced with your presence on day one, but he'd get to see you five days a week. he was pretty sure this made up for every horrible thing that'd ever happened to him.

"let's take a quick break before starting, yeah? i need a snack before your first impression of me is while hangry." everyone gave a polite laugh, breaking off in separate directions.

you immediately turned to peter, walking his way. "hey,"

okay, he was definitely sure this made up for everything that'd happened to him.

"you're peter parker, right?"

maybe everything that ever will happen to him, too.

"yeah! yeah, that's me. how'd you know?" he gave you a shy smile, trying to not get too lost in your eyes. they were vibrant and speckled, something he was close enough to know now.

your returned smile was filled with much more confidence than his. "i remember your application. you're pretty impressive, parker."

peter was a blushing mess in seconds at your compliment. "oh yeah?"

"oh yeah. i had to make sure you were on my team as soon as i reviewed it." the smirk on your lips was unmistakable.

there was only a nervous laugh in response, a hand scratching at the back of his neck as peter's gaze dipped to the floor. he hoped it passed as humility, rather than giving away just how flustered he was.

"i'm headed to the cafeteria to grab a smoothie quick, wanna grab a bite with me?"

peter's eyes shot back up to meet yours, wide and pupils blown. there's no way you were talking to him right now, no way you remembered him from his impressive application, and no way you'd invited him to hang out (albeit for ten minutes) within two hours of meeting.

your confidence faded a bit as you read into peter's hesitance. "it's totally cool if not! if you'd rather settle in, get to know the lab—"

"no!" peter interjected far too loudly. "sorry, i-i mean, no! i'd love to join. how's the food here?"

your lips curled into a smirk, and once again, peter was in a puddle at your feet.

"not nearly as good as it could be for a multi-billion dollar company."

it may have only been ten minutes, but peter memorized everything he could about you in those ten minutes.

you liked starwberries, he noted from your smoothie choice, and you'd been at oscorp for a little over a year now. you'd started in his spot your sophomore year, an impressive feat to genius peter parker. that was the first thing he learned about you: just how wickedly smart you were. it wasn't often he felt like he'd met his match, someone he was excited to bounce his ideas off of, and it being you made him far more into this internship than he'd previously been.

but honestly, he'd be lying calling it the first. the first thing he learned from his ten minutes walking at your side was how incredibly gorgeous you were. not that it mattered; your intellect and ability to command a room already had him entranced, but holy shit. he didn't know someone could make a lab coat look so irresistible.

everything about you had peter smitten, damn near having to catch drool from his lips. the way your hair framed your face and bounced as you walked, the way your perfume danced inside his nose and filled him with memories yet to come. your downright essence was beautiful, and peter was starting to understand the sheer power aphrodite had over others.

he didn't get much time with you the rest of the evening as you led the introduction to the team, outlining the robotics project for the semester, but being in your presence was enough.

and as he packed his bag to leave and you slipped him your number 'for research purposes', he was already counting the minutes down till 4pm tomorrow.

your smile tormented his dreams the entire night.

actually, your smile tormented him the rest of the week, and he presumed it would for the next few months. truthfully, he hoped it would forever.

peter didn't get to talk to you much as your project started, but he savored the exchanged smirks and glances that came his way. he tried not to work himself up, begging his mind to not read into things too early. but every time he looked up from his paper to catch you already meeting his gaze, every time you came out of your way to say hi to him and check in on his work, peter felt himself getting further and further lost in you.

he started to come up with any excuse he could think of to talk to you, to earn a smile from you that could cure any ailment he had that day.

peter began to surprise you with a smoothie before each shift, strawberry tart, just like the first time. not only was it a reason to be in early, to talk to you until the last second before getting to work, but it freed up your breaks. the breaks you gave more often than any of the other team leads, he'd learned, your care for your team shining through in the way you taught and in the ways you didn't.

that was the next thing peter learned about you: your altruistic sense of others. you put everyone around you first, caring for people you'd known for less than two weeks as though you'd been best friends for years. couldn't make a shift because of work? you understood, new york was an expensive place to live. make a mistake on a task? no worries, you'd help error-correct and walk them through hands-on the right way to carry it out. everything you did was laced in honey, a sweetness oozing from you that nearly made peter sick to his stomach.

nearly.

peter's infatuation with you was on an exponential course, and the closer you grew, the more he couldn't help but fall for you. and the more times he caught your lingering glances, the way you started to return his smoothie favors with his favorite coffee order he'd mentioned in passing, the more his confidence in his affection grew.

it was 9pm on a tuesday night in the third week of peter's internship as the robotics team filtered out of the lab around him for the evening. they'd been wrapping up a busy and overwhelming shift as you prepared a prototype that would be reviewed by norman osborne himself. peter packed slowly as he always did, hoping to be last out and catch even a few more minutes with you.

he approached your desk at the front of the room, both hands tugging at his backpack straps as he closed in. you looked up from your work, a tired smile hanging from your lips.

"hey parker, good work today. as always," you added quickly. a blush crept to peter's cheeks just as fast.

"yeah, you too. are you almost done? i'm happy to walk you out."

you let out a frustrated groan, red eyes drifting back to your computer screen. "no, honestly. amadeus hasn't been in at all this week, so i'm trying to cover his portion before we turn everything in."

before you could even think to protest, peter had his backpack off and a chair pulled up to your desk. "here, let me help."

"peter, it's okay. it's already really late, and i know you have an early lecture in the morning. i can't ask that of you."

you remembering his class schedule had him dizzy, but he shook it off and gave you a soft smirk. "good thing you didn't ask, then."

that night set a different tone for peter. it was the first time he'd spent more than fifteen minutes alone with you, and despite being there to do someone else's work, he relished every single second of it.

he was nervous at first, his chair pulled so close he could feel your knee brush against his every now and then, your hands touching as you reached for the same tool. despite his anxiety, as the hours passed (unbeknownst to either of you), peter felt nothing but relaxed in your presence. he grew to know you more, the you that wasn't presenting to a room full of people, and he didn't know it was possible to fall even more in love than he already was. everything about you was so genuine, and when he talked to you, it felt like he'd known you for years.

it was nearly midnight as you put the finishing touches to the project, shoulders slumping in relief as you let out a breathy laugh.

"holy shit, i can't believe we did it."

peter smiled at you, leaning back in his chair to stretch out. "told you it wouldn't be that bad, (y/l/n). teamwork makes the dream work, right?"

you met his gaze with grateful eyes. "peter, i owe you my life. or at bare minimum the last three hours of your life back. you really didn't have to stay, i can't tell you how much it meant to me that you did."

he sat up, leaning towards you slightly. "nah, don't worry about it. anything to be teacher's pet," he nudged your elbow, earning a laugh that sent an ache through his chest.

"trust me, i'll do anything for you. i'll write you a reference so profound it'll be damn near biblical text."

it was peter's turn to laugh, standing to gather his belongings and pack his bag for the second time that evening. "come on, now i really gotta walk you out of here. i don't trust you alone in a parking garage at nine, let alone goddamn midnight."

you followed suit and grabbed your stuff, logging off of your desktop with a groan. "god midnight, i'm so sorry. you have to be at an analytical chemistry lecture in six hours. i did not deserve your help tonight."

he responded with a scoff. "come on, like i was gonna go to that anyway."

peter held the door for you as the two of you made your way through the empty and dark oscorp tower, tired conversations illuminated only by the faint red glow of the security lights. as you finally made your way into the parking garage and approached your car, you turned to peter with a smile that had him awake again instantly.

"thank you again. i really couldn't have done it without you."

"trust me, i'll do anything for you." he echoed your words from earlier, and had he blinked, peter would've missed the blush on your cheeks.

you unlocked your car to set your bags in the backseat, shutting the door to face him once more.

"well regardless, thank you. not many people would," you reached out while talking to grab his arm and give it a soft squeeze, so quick he almost didn't catch it. he did, though, and his entire body went up in flames at your touch.

"i'll catch you tomorrow, okay?" you gave a soft chuckle as you reached for your door handle. "that's if my boyfriend doesn't kill me for getting home this late. sleep well, pete."

you got into your car, and peter waved you off as though his entire world wasn't crumbling down around him.

holy shit. did she just say boyfriend?

peter didn't get a lick of sleep that night.

he racked his brain for any possible sign he could've missed, any possible indication that you were in a relationship. but he couldn't come up with anything. you hadn't mentioned him before this, and peter was beating himself up for falling this hard for someone he'd known for barely a month.

he replayed all of his memories with you, every time he thought you were flirting or going out of your way to think of him. he felt defeated, and though it wasn't like he was actively trying to pursue you, knowing the avenue was closed and he'd gotten this attached was crushing. god he was embarrassing. how was he supposed to look at you without it tearing him to shreds?

but something hurt worse than the thought of not having you in that way: not having you at all.

whether he meant for it to or not, your presence had become a healing force in his life, your smile a beacon he turned to after a hard day, shitty patrol, anything. facing you was the last thing he wanted, but the one thing he needed.

so he pretended like nothing was wrong — because nothing was. his feelings were unrequited, and that was absolutely fine! you hadn't done anything to wrong him, unknowing you'd even hurt him. so why did he still have to pretend?

peter was in love with you, and he had to push it down. keep things civil, keep things above the belt. and it wasn't hard — he wanted to. he loved spending time with you. so as the weeks passed, he did.

peter kept bringing you smoothies, walking you to your car each night. he even asked about your boyfriend, occasionally, though any story you mentioned physically hurt his chest. and you kept being you. unabashedly considerate of him and an ever-present source of light.

it grew even more tumultuous in peter's brain each time you brought up your boyfriend, more specifically, what you talked about. sometimes they were nice stories, a date you'd gone on recently, or the explanation of an inside joke you couldn't get out of your head. but as time passed, it grew bittersweet. you told stories of fights you'd had, asking peter's opinion. times you thought you'd deserved better, how you wished you weren't scolded for being so passionate about your work. he tried to stay neutral about it, tried to respond how any other friend would.

but he wasn't any other friend, and he was definitely biased. peter didn't understand how anyone could treat you less than a princess, less than the angel on earth you were. how they didn't see all the hard work and late nights you'd put into literally inventing something and building it by hand. but he played it cool, staying inconspicuously on your side and keeping you happy. because that's all he ever wanted to do: make you happy.

he needed to stop, to slow down his time with you; he knew that. but you were gravitational, and peter couldn't help it. he knew the consequences of getting to know you more, of spending more time with you, but the benefits outweighed every. single. time. he started staying late to help you more often, spending more time shamelessly up front with you while working on the project as people broke off into their own groups. you were only a year older than him, but something about the whole "teacher's pet" of it all made it... exciting, to say the least.

that was another thing peter had noticed as time passed: not being able to like you made him incredibly turned on by you.

he felt entirely guilty about it, fantasizing about his coworker, let alone his team lead, who actively vouched for his application. he felt guilty as he watched you lean over others' desks during lab, shifting his stool closer to his own to cover his growing problem as he stared at you. he felt guilty each time you laughed and leaned a little too close to him, the scent of your perfuming driving him crazy and flooding his mind with downright sinful images of the two of you. he felt guily for how hungry he was for you.

peter felt guilty as he lay on his bed each night, hand down his boxers as he palmed himself to the thought of you. how he pictured you on top of him, your hands all over his chest as you rode him so perfectly, your name a prayer on his lips. he felt guilty as he moaned your name, an echo around his bedroom as he came undone night after night.

peter was absolutely fucked.

everything was fine and managable until a friday night, seven weeks into the program. peter had stayed late to help wrap everything up again before a deadline, the clock showing a wide-awake eleven pm as your voice flooded through the room.

"i'm serious! my tongue was bleeding. how do you mess up a kiss that badly?"

peter nearly doubled over, holding his side stitch as he harmoized with your laugh. "that's fucking insane."

"i know right?" you wiped away a tear, a sigh falling from your lips as you leaned back in your chair. "what about you peter? truth or dare?"

he thought about it for a second and then gave a shrug, "truth."

you pondered with an exaggerated thinking face. then a smirk. "what about you? tell me something wacky about your sex life."

peter felt all the blood rush from his face. "w-what?"

"come on, parker. i think you're hiding a lot from me. tell me something crazy you've done. and don't skimp on me here."

he sat for a moment, knee bouncing as he fought through the wave of his own thoughts. you bringing up sex in general was one thing, but flat out asking him about it was another. he had no idea how to look you in the eye while talking to you, or how to do it without getting painfully hard. your patient doe eyes were so not helping him.

"uhh... i-i guess..." peter nervously looked back at you, darting between your gaze and your lips. fuck, why did he do that?

"i don't know. my freshman year of college, the girl i was dating was... a little too into cats. i won't get too into it, but let's just say when i say i'll try anything once, unfortunately, i have a history of meaning it."

peter stared into your wide eyes and cursed himself, cringing and regretful that he'd taken it too far. but then he heard your laugh, the way you hiccupped when you couldn't break any longer, and everything felt safe again. you made everything feel safe, even as he said the most embarrassing thing he could have. fuck, he was so screwed.

"honestly, peter? that's kind of endearing. most men complain about eating you out, let alone going as far as indulging in your kinks."

peter's mouth went dry. "m- wait, what?"

you said it again, as though it were common sense. "i haven't been with a single man that didn't at bare minimum throw a fit about going down on me, some even flat out said no. called it disgusting. as if i can't tell they haven't showered in far too long while i'm down there."

he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "i'm sorry, you're saying men don't want to go down on you? but your boyfriend obvi—"

you gave a pained laugh. "you'd think, right? tried it once and told me he thought it was gross. happy birthday to me."

peter didn't know if the ringing in his ears was from how hard he was at the thought of eating you out, or from the sheer rage that was coursing through his veins. "i'm sorry to overstep, but that's bullshit."

you laughed at him, nodding in agreement. "yeah, you're telling me. don't get me started, that is not a fight i want to relive."

peter gave you a frown before you continued, "speaking of, it's getting pretty late. gonna hear a mouth-full when i get home, sheesh. thank you, again. for staying, i mean. you're always so helpful, peter."

he gave you an unconvinced look, speaking up before he could stop himself. "why do you keep saying that? that he's going to yell at you for being out late. i mean, he knows your working, right? we're working on some pretty cool shit here, i guess i thought he'd be proud."

there was a look on your face peter hadn't seen before. it was solemn, one he couldn't quite decipher. you matched it with a soft chuckle. "you can't say things like that, peter. make me think that i deserve better."

"you do, you know."

you gave him a faint smile. "come on, walk me out, will you? i have more questions — i need to live vicariously through you on this whole 'going down on a woman' topic."

holy shit, peter was so irrevocably, unimaginably fucked.

peter spent the rest of his night imagining what it would be like to taste you. to feel you under his tongue, writhing around for him. he couldn't imagine anyone denying you such a pleasure; it was a disservice to you, honestly. to themselves. because if there was anything peter would bet on, it would be that you tasted as sweet as your honey-laced personality.

after a grueling two months under your spell, peter had to outsource some opinions on the situation, and whether or not he should quit the program and remove himself from you entirely. he reached out to mj first, not expecting her response.

"peter, i think you should be a homewrecker."

"w-what?! that is not what i was getting at!"

"i know, i'm getting there for you. i say, this relationship sucks and you should make a move and win her over."

"mj, this isn't twilight, i can't just start a fucking love triangle in my oscorp internship. i wanted to know if i should quit or not."

"oh? yeah, i don't care about that. quit, don't quit, whatever. but you should definitely be a homewrecker."

"mj, i-i can't... i can't do that."

"can't you, though? don't you want to? just a little?"

she had him there. it wasn't like peter hadn't thought about it, completely blowing past all boundaries and making a move on you. but he wasn't crazy, and he wasn't an asshole. he wasn't going to be like all the shitty men you'd brought up.

but damn if he didn't want to.

no, peter parker was not a homewrecker.

right?

fuck, he needed some more opinions.

peter's conversation with mj hadn't gone as well as he wanted it to.

"peter, i think you should be a homewrecker."

that wasn't the reason he called, and it definitely wasn't a notion he was trying to entertain. after two months of torturing himself in your presence, peter thought it might be best to drop the internship. he didn't need it to graduate; it was more of a hobby for him. truthfully, he hoped he'd be able to sneak away unnoticed every day, able to work on his own inventions and mass-produce some web fluid.

but then you happened, and his entire life flipped upside down. you'd consumed his every waking and unwaking thought, and being around you was becoming unbearable. he didn't want to leave you, to never get the chance to see you again. actually, that was the last thing he wanted, but it seemed to be his only option.

peter, i think you should be a homewrecker.

no! what?! why was he even thinking about it this much? he was better than that; he knew better than that. but every day he saw you, every time he thought about seeing you... he kind of didn't want to be better than that.

fuck, he needed to call ned.

"yeah, that's really tough, buddy. i don't think you should quit, i mean, this seems like a really good opportunity for you!"

peter sighed at ned's response, aimlessly nodding against the phone.

"on the other hand, i would've dropped off the face of the earth two weeks in. i think you're kind of screwed either way, dude."

"right?" his voice was laced with frustration. "fuck, i don't know what to do..." peter trailed off, hesitant to ask his next question.

"uh... mj, she... she made a stupid joke, told me i should be... a homewrecker. that's completely stupid, right?"

the silence on the other line was deafening.

"holy shit ned, say something. anything, please."

"sorry, sorry! i'm thinking."

"so heavily? is it not completely stupid??"

ned made gave a thoughtful hum into the receiver. "i don't know. her boyfriend sounds really shitty from what i've gathered."

"that does not justify me being a homewrecker."

"it doesn't not justify it. you're always such a goodie two-shoes, dude. maybe it could be fun to do something stupid."

maybe it could be fun to do something stupid.

no, fuck!

"ned! you were supposed to be the voice of reason!"

"maybe i am being the voice of reason."

peter gave a frustrated groan, even more lost than he was five minutes ago. "fuck you guys, i'm calling nico."

he didn't even bother with his initial question this time around. as soon as nico picked up, he immediately answered with the question he really wanted to ask: should i be a homewrecker?

"parker, what the fuck? is this about (y/n)?"

needless to say, nico was not as supportive as the other two. she was against it immediately, going on a long rant about infidelity and it's correlation to the women's rights movement. he tried to listen, he really did, but he couldn't stop his mind from all the racing thoughts, all the possibilities with the new option he'd been presented with.

"peter, are you even listening?"

"y-yeah, sorry nico. i mean, honestly, i'm sorry, women. i-i just... i don't know what to do. i can't stand being around her much longer, it just... hurts."

peter heard her soft sigh on the other end, matching his own. "i know, i get it. but that's not how you want a relationship to start."

she was right, and he knew it. that isn't how he wanted things to play out with you. you deserved better. that was peter's entire point in all of this: that you deserve better.

but he could give you better. everything he did would be better than the jerk you were dating. and the more peter thought about it, the more he started to rework his thoughts. entirely accidentally. yeah, ambushing you with his feelings was not what you deserved. but the passion of it? the raw, unfiltered emotion? that's what you deserved. to know just how wanted you are.

fuck, he was so screwed.

peter gave it a few days, doing his best to distance himself from you and take a step back. he felt good, at first, as the project was rapidly approaching a major checkpoint, and he was able to dive in fully on his work. but his resolve faded by the end of the second day as you approached him after the shift was up, bag in hand and confidence-melting smile on your lips.

"hey, pete. i missed you yesterday, you ran out pretty quick. everything okay?"

fuck, did she have to be so nice and caring about his wellbeing?

he willed his eyes to stay focused on the bag he was packing, knowing he'd lose it the second he met your gaze. "uh, yeah. fine. just had to get home."

peter hated how short he was being with you. he could see it on your face as he flickered his gaze up, features contorted into confusion and a glimmer of hurt flashing across your face at his half-assed response. what the fuck was he doing, anyway? this definitely isn't what you deserved, to be brushed off when you did nothing wrong.

he looked up to reach your eyes, to actually hold eye contact this time, a soft sigh escaping his lips. "i'm sorry. i just had something to deal with, that's all. i'm okay, thank you for checking in."

peter saw your shoulder visibly relax, and a smirk return to your lips once again. oh, fuck.

"good, i'm glad. i've gotten quite used to my nightly escorts, you know." you tossed him a wink.

fuck. he's so fucking fucked.

"do you have the time to walk me out tonight?"

fuck it. he had to do something. he had to say something, to tell you how he felt, and it was either going to be really awesome and the best thing that'd ever happened to him, or he was going to have to drop the internship and move cities. peter weighed the two outcomes heavily, chewing at the inside of his cheek.

"pete?" you noticed.

fuck, you can't call him that when he's trying to be good.

you reached forward, your fingers gently grazing his jaw in hopes of catching his attention, drawing his wandering gaze back to you. peter took a sharp inhale, his body rigid with restraint. his mind played tricks on him as he watched your eyes ghost over his lips, a shy smirk dancing on your own.

he tried to form the words, he really did. but there was only one thought on his mind.

fuck it. they have crime in the bronx, too. right?

peter grabbed the collar of your lab coat with possibly too much aggression, pulling you stumbling into him as he locked his lips on yours. he held his breath as he kissed you, though the action itself was nothing shy of breathtaking. he kissed you with such fervor, taking his (likely) only chance at this opportunity and not wasting a moment of it.

peter moaned against your lips the second he felt you kiss back.

the kiss was hungry, two months of pent-up emotion he'd fought to suppress bubbling over the surface and into you. he tangled his hands in your hair, his knees buckling at the soft sounds escaping your throat as he pulled you further into him, wanting to be as close to you as physically possible.

after he'd lost all the air from his lungs, peter reluctantly pulled back, panting and eyes blown wide. he stared at you, taking in your disheveled state as he noticed how pink and plump your lips had grown from the kiss, your entire face flushed as you fought for your own air.

peter took a step back, trying to catch any semblance of humility he had left.

"(y/n), i know i probably just fucked so much up. i know that, and i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, and i'll leave you alone from now on. i promise. i know you're in a relationship, and i've only known you for a few months, and i know i'm being insane, and now i'm rambling," peter gave a nervous chuckle, his hand scratching at the back of his neck as his gaze hit the ground.

"i'm not going to go on a rant about how you should pick me instead, about how much better i would be for you. but when you're mad at me for this — and rightfully so,

"don't forget that you kissed me back."

peter grabbed his bag quickly, giving you an awkward wave goodbye as he nearly sprinted out of the room, leaving you alone and utterly dumbfounded.

holy fucking shit.

peter didn't break his sprint until his feet hit the steps of his apartment building.

he ran inside, slamming his door shut behind him and dropping his backpack to the ground. peter's back hit the couch with a heavy thud, his arms splayed out to the sides.

he wanted to be upset with himself, he really did. and he should be. he shouldn't have put you in that position; it was unfair to you. he tried to ridicule himself, to feel any ounce of shame for his actions.

but all peter could think about was the lingering feeling of your lips on his.

his fingers traced where they once laid, a tingling sensation still heavy on his lips since he'd left oscorp over fifteen minutes ago. all peter could think about was how you tasted — your sharp, minty breath against his. he thought about your perfume, how good you smelled that close to him. everything about the kiss was intoxicating, and now he knew he definitely needed to quit the internship, because there was no way in hell he could see you without experiencing that kind of temptation again.

god, he should've listened to nico. sorry, women.

a sharp, rapid knock on his apartment door jolted him out of his thoughts, and peter shot up instantly.

either you were about to bitch slap him, or your boyfriend was. and either way, he deserved it.

he made his way to the door, steps heavy as he dragged his feet underneath him, not ready to face the consequences of his actions. really, peter didn't need to open the door. he could stay in here and hide forever, block your number, and move cities. yeah, that could be good. maybe if he just moved slow enough, he could make it back to the couch without—

"peter?" your voice called through the wooden door.

fuck.

"peter?"

fuck.

he's so fucked.

peter let out a pained sigh, shaky hand making its way to the door handle despite everything in his body screaming to run the other direction. he pushed it down, opening the door and ready to be told off, ready to face the consequences of his actions.

there you stood, cheeks flushed from the cool new york night, and slightly damp from the drizzle outside. you stared back at him with those big doe eyes that he could no longer meet without a pang of guilt in his chest.

peter gave you a crooked smile, the normal sparkle in his eyes now clouded with anxiety, "hey."

"hey."

the two of you stood in silence as your hearts each raced, still in the doorway as peter stared at you, anticipating your wrath.

"sorry, do you want to come in? y-you seem a bit wet, can i get you a new shirt?" he asked quietly, stepping to the side to let you into his apartment.

because that was peter. even though he knew you were here to cuss him out, he wanted to make sure you were comfortable first.

you turned to face him, and there was something about your expression he couldn't quite read. between that and your unexpected silence, peter was driving himself crazy.

"please, you have to say someth—"

"i broke up with him." you let out in a rushed exhale at the same time. your chest was heaving, the confession alone making you out of breath. peter flooded with a mixture of emotions, ranging from confusion, to pure guilt, to a glimmer of hope. he stared back at you, wide-eyed.

"what?"

you nodded. "two weeks ago."

"oh," peter blinked, eyebrows tight in confusion.

"you told me i deserved better," your eyes flickered down to his lips, just for a moment. "you were right." the words were hushed and shaky, like you still didn't quite believe yourself.

"oh," peter whispered back.

you nodded at him, taking a step towards peter and watching as warmth spread throughout his face. he cleared his throat and stood a little taller as you met toe to toe with him, his eyes heavy on your own.

"i did," you began softly, your voice dripping in honey as always. peter was already beginning to lose himself in your presence again. "kiss you back, i mean."

the unspoken staring contest was adding to the pulling tension in the room, a weight peter could feel growing on his chest.

"yeah," was all he could muster in response, dizzy at the thought of your sweet lips against his.

you moved even closer to him, close enough to hear his breath hitch as you ghosted your hand over his chest and trailed your way up to his collarbones peaking out of his oversized sweater.

"did you mean it?" your fingers were teasingly slow as they padded across his delicate skin. "that you could give me better?"

peter nodded fervently, not trusting the pitch of his own voice right now. you smirked at him, finally breaking eye contact to watch the way his lips parted as you looped your finger around his collar and pulled him into you, giggling as his nose bumped into yours.

"will you?"

that was peter's breaking point, a low and desperate moan escaping from his throat as he grabbed the sides of your face and crashed into you. his lips were hot on yours as they were quick to devour you, breaking only to trail their way down your neck. peter found a sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at your soft skin and earning a gasp from you.

"every day."

you pulled back with a moan, locking eyes with him again. they were clouded with lust, but they were sincere. peter always meant every word he said, and it made your knees weak to hear such pretty ones come your way.

peter gave you a soft smirk before pulling you back in, kissing you harder than before. he was quick to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring with his own as his hands began to make their way around your waist. they traveled lower, giving a firm squeeze to your hips before sliding them down the back of your jeans. he palmed your ass as he continued to swallow your every breath.

peter massaged what he could through your pants, making his way down to your lower thighs as he broke free from your lips and trailed his way back to behind your ear.

you gave a soft gasp as he nipped at your lobe. "jump."

you obeyed immediately, wrapping your legs around his hips as you took advantage of the new position and attacked the pale skin on his neck. he groaned and squeezed your ass again before heading down the hallway towards his bedroom. you couldn't keep still in his hold, his hands burning through your clothing. you writhed against him, moaning as your core made contact with his growing hard-on.

he set you down on his bed gently, letting you go to stand straight and pull off his sweater. he leaned down to kiss you, hard, as peter's fingers snaked their way under the hem of your shirt, fingertips dancing delicately on your stomach.

you got the message, tugging your shirt off and leaving you bare in the prettiest lace bra peter had ever seen.

"every part of you is so gorgeous," he moaned. "it's not fair."

he climbed over you and helped you lay back fully on his bed, his lips finding yours after a painful minute away from them. the way peter kissed you was hot and needy, but it was also so tender. you couldn't remember the last time you'd been kissed with so much emotion and passion.

you smiled into the kiss, infecting peter with the same dopey grin. he broke the kiss, making his way down your neck and trailing your collarbones with sloppy, wet kisses. he watched the goosebumps form under his touch as he made his way lower, kissing his way down the valley of your breasts. he moved one of his hands to tug at the lace cup, exposing your soft flesh to the cool air. it didn't take him long to have your hard nipple in his mouth, his tongue teasing you with every passing movement.

peter got lost in the noises you were making, only remembering himself as you tugged on his curls with an exceptionally loud moan. he let your nipple go with a sharp pop! and traveled his tongue down your stomach, chuckling at the way you writhed underneath him and your muscles tensed against his mouth.

"we don't have to do anything you don't want to do," peter said breathlessly as he looked up at you, lips swollen and pink. "but i'm dying to get my mouth on you. m'not above getting on my knees, right here and now, and beggin' to get a taste of you."

his words alone had you more turned on than you're sure you'd ever been.

but you maintained yourself, remembering what he was even asking for. "oh, peter. you don't have to do that."

peter let out a loud laugh, one seemingly at you. "have to? baby, i don't know how to tell you i need to."

you bucked your hips in response and gave him a bashful nod, giving him permission as he hooked his hands around your belt loops and slid the jeans and panties off your body in one swift motion. the cold air on your cunt sent a chill through your body, but it wasn't long until you were hot against peter's touch.

he spread his tongue flat and made his way through your messy folds as a string of profanities fell from your lips.

"fuck, peter," you breathed.

he looked up at you with a dopey smile hanging from his loose jaw. "yeah, baby? feel good?"

peter chuckled as you nodded frantically, leaning down to leave a light peck against your throbbing bundle of nerves. "good. god, you taste like fucking heaven, sweetheart. just like i knew you would."

you bucked your hips up with a whine, hitting him in the chin and earning a deep laugh from somewhere sinful in peter's chest. he ducked his head back down, getting to work as he attached his lips to your swollen clit.

you gave a sharp gasp as he sucked, pleasure blooming throughout your stomach and tunneling your vision. he brought his fingers up to tease your entrance, spreading you open as he increased his bruising pace on your clit. he groaned against you as you tugged at his hair, his name spilling from your lips as the vibration swelled the knot inside of you.

"that's it, baby," he groaned against you. "i want you to feel so fucking good. i want you to cum for me, please. i need you to cum on my face."

you let out a downright desperate whine at his words, grinding your hips up to match the movement of his mouth. his fingers found their way to your entrance again, and you were done for, the anticipation of him inside of you enough to send you over the edge.

the face you made when you came was the prettiest peter had seen you yet, and the noises you made didn't follow far behind. he was rutting himself against the bed as he rode you through your orgasm, lapping up every last drop of your arousal. he was a moaning mess against you, pulling back only once you gave his curls two sharp tugs.

peter sat up and stared at you in awe, taking in the sight of your flushed, bare figure on his bed. this was something he'd only ever dreamed about, and seeing you laid out before him, still panting his name as you came down from your high, sent a rush to his cock that made him twitch and groan. he climbed his way up you, trailing soft, wet kisses against your damp skin as he found your lips.

the kiss he gave you was the softest yet, and you melted under his touch as you tasted yourself on his lips. he didn't break contact as he tugged at his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down together.

peter laughed as he struggled to shake them off, only to be cut off with a deep groan as you reached down and grabbed him at the base. he was hot and heavy in your hand, the room echoing with a series of curse words falling from his lips. you tug at him slightly, gasping at how strained he was in your palm as he twitched against you. peter dipped his head down, panting in your ear as you pumped him a few times.

peter was in a dream; he was sure of it. there was no way you had your pretty little hand wrapped around him like this, begging for him to be inside of you. it was overwhelming, the sheer relief in the reality of it all. twenty minutes ago, he had apartments and jobs in the bronx pulled up, planning his new life in shame. and now, he was so high that he didn't even process your words as you told him that you were on birth control. he jerked his hips forward into your hand, swearing like a sailor as you began to line him up to your dripping entrance.

he canted forward slightly to catch you, moaning loudly as he sank slowly into you. it took everything in him to not finish on the spot as your walls fluttered around him, taking his time as he opened you up to him. you were so warm and wet.

"f-fuck, baby. baby, you're s'fucking tight," peter moaned in your ear. "you're taking me s'well. you're so perfect, fuck—"

you groaned at his praise, digging your nails into his shoulder. "pete, please move."

he chuckled, pulling almost all the way out of you. "anything you want, sweetheart."

peter began to fuck you, building speed until he found the exact pace that made you tremble underneath him. your string of moans was music to his ears, and the way you clenched tightly around him brought peter to what he could only assume was heaven. he leaned down to catch you in a kiss, reaching further down your body to hoist your legs higher, pounding deeper into you than before.

"god peter, don't stop. please," you moaned in his ear, voice cracking from the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. "y-you feel even better than i imagined."

with that, peter was done for. he was so fucking done for hearing you admit you'd imagined how his cock would feel inside of you.

he pulled out, much to your dismay, taking his aching cock in his hand and pumping quickly, your name pleading on his tongue. he let out a grunt and a shaky exhale as he came all over, painting your clit and stomach with hot, thick ropes of his cum.

the feeling was dizzying — the pleasure you were getting from watching him finish over you knocked the wind out of your lungs. you panted as you watched peter scoot his way back down the bed.

"sorry, baby, promise m'not always so fast," he sat in between your legs, palming his way up your plush thighs. "i just can't tell you how much of a dream come true this is."

he positioned himself back down to eat you out with a smirk on his lips, and you were snapped out of your haze. "oh, peter! that's o-okay, you don't have— oh, fuck!"

you were cut off by your own gasp as peter began to lap up the mess he made between your legs. his tongue was everywhere, inside and out, cleaning up his own release off of you and moaning at the salty taste on his tongue.

the entire thing made you way too hot.

he groaned and pulled back to circle your clit with his index finger, looking up at you with a sloppy smirk on his wet lips.

"didn't want you thinkin' i forgot 'bout you," you threw your head back as he easily slid his middle finger inside of you.

"promised i could give you better," peter growled. "that's exactly what you're gonna to get, baby. come on, i want you to feel so good."

you moaned loudly as his lewd words only tightened the building knot inside of you. he added a second finger, and you were immediately on the edge, breathless as his pace was relentless.

"that's it, honey. fuck, you feel so perfect on my fingers. you're so perfect."

peter moved his head back down to attach his lips to your clit, fingers still pumping inside you at a bruising pace. his teeth nipped at your sensitive bud, and you were pushed over the edge, splashing out around his fingers and all over his face. you gasped as you felt the sensation, looking down at peter. he groaned against your cunt, only making your orgasm stronger and making you squirt harder on him. he lapped it up with a hunger, groaning into you one more time as he thrust into the mattress below him and came again against his stomach at your sweet taste on his tongue.

you pulled him up by his hair when you'd come down, out of breath and vision blurry. peter swung his head back, flicking his damp hair out of his eyes and looking up to see your exhausted figure above him.

"holy shit," you both whispered at the same time, earning tired laughs to fill the now quiet room.

you felt peter shift beside you, and suddenly he was gone. though, somehow, he was back just as fast with a wet, warm towel and an apple juice box. he handed the drink to you with a sloppy smile as he leaned down to clean you up, rough hands now gentle as ever with you. he was delicate on your skin as he cleaned the mixed arousal from you, tuned in to how sensitive you were now. he admired the bruises blooming around your thighs from where he gripped you.

peter moved to clean himself up, throwing the soiled towel in his laundry bin and grabbing two pairs of boxers and two of his sweatshirts. he tossed you one of each, a dopey smile on his lips the entire time.

he sat down on the bed with you again, clothes in hand as he stroked your messy hair, gazing at you with the same feeling he had in his chest the first time he ever saw you.

"listen, i know you just got out of a relationship," he started with a sheepish blush painting his cheeks. quite the stark difference to the peter in front of you five minutes ago.

"a-and if this was all you wanted, i can live with that. but i-i meant what i said. i'd really love the chance to show you better, every day."

you gave him a lopsided smile and shifted to climb onto his lap. even though you were both still naked, nothing about it was sexual. you gave him a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and holding him close. in that moment, you swore it was the safest you'd ever felt. peter was thinking just the same thing.

"there's no way you're real, peter parker."

he smirked into your neck. "funny, i was thinking the same thing about you."

[liz-allyn]

THE AMAZING SPIDER-MAN (2012-2014) / SPIDER-MAN: NO WAY HOME (2021)

[liz-allyn]

LIZ ALLYN I LOVE YOU

“How— you don’t even know me???”

It’s from a Daniel Tosh comedy special

[liz-allyn]

Ur writing is so amazing !!!!!

Thank you!

[liz-allyn]

Have you thought about what part four of s+v would be about? I’m really interested to see what’s going to happen next!!!!!!!!

I think about it all the time. Putting fingers to keyboard and typing it out is so much more complicated.

1) Honey refuses to live with Peter. She keeps living in a shitty apartment while Peter begs her to live in his new giant hotel. We explore why.

2) Honey has a therapist, Dr. V. Who actually appeared in one of my earlier fics, Inner Demons.

3) Peter and Frank are working together behind the scenes, but it’s made things so much more complicated for him. More secrets. More lies. No killing. Higher stakes.

4) Honey’s relationship with her family is explored further, including some family members we haven’t met.

5) Gwen Stacy didn’t kill herself. That’s all I’ll say.

[liz-allyn]

Pin

[liz-allyn]

“Over yonder” but you read “over yandere”

[liz-allyn]

THANK YOU FOR EXISTING. YOUR WRITING IS REALLY GOOD. Hoping to see more works. All the best wishes for your life too ♥️♥️♥️♥️ (sorry if sounds weird or sm, this is my first fan mail 😭)

Thank you 🙏 I’ll get back to them one day!

[liz-allyn]

The equivalent of walking into a candy store.

im so bored w/ all my wips rn. if u have a silly lil smut request u can put in my inbox and if it tickles my fancy ill write it

[liz-allyn]

Yes hello, I read your Peter stupidly imprints on the reader by accident post and I came to ask if you were interested in turning that into a full fic.

Obviously no pressure!! I really don't mean for it to come off that way. I just...gosh I love that idea :)

yes i am!!

i got a lot of ideas in my brain and my main issue is focusing on one at a time lmao. it really depends on what my brain latches onto at any given moment! i very likely have undiagnosed ADHD so i pingpong A Lot. ya boy is always writing but consistency is not his friend.

this ask accidentally made me spew out some potential plot points for this fic

PUTTING THIS UNDER A READMORE BC OH IM YAPPING!!!

i love the idea too; reader has no idea about werewolf mating habits. she was only there for blood and good dick

peter should know better! he knows about mating habits! intimately! he’s had a mate before, assumes he never will again. but he figured since reader is an entirely different species, it wouldn’t take even if he felt the pull toward her initially when they met. his ruts have been getting worse since gwen died. its started bleeding into his role as the pack’s alpha. hes way more aggressive, quick to anger, and hes pissing off the council that regulates the paranormal/preternatural creatures in the area.

he knows reader is nearly constantly hungry bc he can smell it on her. she doesnt want to hurt humans. reader is a hybrid-her dad is a human and mother is a vampire. shes already under scrutiny and surveillance by the council. she’s also screwed. when she was younger, she could eat human food and supplement with blood her mother brought her. but mommy dearest left for almost no reason, reader turns 16 and her body just…ceases to be human. she stops aging, her period gets weaker, the sun is making her sleepy, and her bloodlust becomes more apparent. she cant eat human food anymore without getting violently ill. animal blood is easier to get but it barely sustain her and she needs more of it.

then her very mortal, very human father gets sick. shes the only one left to care for him. she basically barely keeps herself alive for 4 years and tries to lives as humanly as possible while her father loses his mind to dementia. once she moves to nyc, she suddenly cant get the blood she needs. per council rules, she cannot drink human blood. (vampires historically Do Not Fuck With The Council, and reader really would just like to pretend she isnt one, so shes willing to play along) the forests /all belong/ to the wolf packs. she cannot make herself noticeable to humans/tourists. blood is way harder to legally obtain. would be WAY easier if she were getting her masters in biology! but she is a fine arts major :) nobody in the stem courses will even /look/ in her direction.

and there’s peter, who doesn’t like this girl. but she’s in obvious pain. and shes hot. like. /really fucking hot./ and she smells good. she’s extremely awkward around humans and if he doesn’t do /something/ the poor girl’s gonna starve to death.

peter and reader aren’t even friends. they dislike each other immensely but that doesn’t mean they cant have a mutually beneficial relationship.

so he approaches her with the idea and at first shes like ‘ew gross no.’ but then-after she tries and fails to mess around with a human only to go almost Jasper Hale when he nicks his tongue on her fangs-she actually considers it. peter wont die if she gets a lil too rough with him. and she hasn’t had any sort of satisfying sex in…ever.

so she agrees to it but lays down some ground rules. no kissing on the lips, its too intimate. no feelings, shes an independent woman, okay? cannot be tied down right now. and noone on the council can find out, bc shes already an anomaly. they are pissed that shes alive bc shes proof of an immortal child tht skipped their all seeing eyes 🤷🏻they are worried about her getting pregnant, even though it would be extremely difficult its not impossible. they would be up her ass even further if they knew.

peter agrees! thinks it’ll be a breeze. all alphas hate the council, so keeping them from sniffing near his pack is already a priority. he can just kiss her everywhere else, so his oral fixation is quenched. and his desire for a mate died w/ gwen so this should be fine! besides, it’s only a week. really, itll be fine.

reader is even prettier naked, she keeps making him laugh, and maybe he’s enjoying getting scritches behind his ears with her manicured nails. he is only a man! okay, a crush. whatever. he’s putting his cock in her, eating her out, and watching her cum. maybe he does like her a /little bit./ she probably just put some kinda vampy thrall over him, anyway. whatever. no feelings, right? he can keep it to himself and once this rut is over, he can purge them. remind himself that shes a leech, keep his distance till shes hungry again.

then she’s riding him, his lips pressed against his pulse point. shes inhaling the scent of his blood through his skin. She kisses along his jugular, rubbing her nose along it.

“hungry?”

“mhm,” her cold tongue follows his vein, “smells so good. strong. alive. better than anything ive ever smelled…”

that should not fill him with the amount of pride it does.

“go ahead.”

“don’t wanna hurt you,” but she sounds almost drunk and it makes his cock throb inside her. her fingers move through his hair. it’s embarrassing but all he wants now is to please her.

“you’re not gonna hurt me with those itty bitty fangs. take your part of the deal.”

she does. she sinks those itty bitty sharp af fangs into his neck almost instantly. it hurts but only just for a moment. the entire world stills, shifts into something hyper real. his heart feels like its gonna beat out of his chest. his nervous system lights up, his skin is suddenly thrumming with life. he feels high, only its more intense. he feels like he’s floating, with only reader anchoring him to earth.

only reader. she’s invading all of his senses. the pleased little noises she makes while she drinks. the smell of her hair, the scent of his own blood. the feeling of her skin going from ice cold to lukewarm to deliciously fevered. because of /him./ he’s giving her something no one else can. his blood is in her body now. his blood. His.

her body, in this moment, belongs to him in a way. it’s pulling his conscious mind further out and the wolf inside him is forcing its way out.

he grabs her hips to the point of bruising and pushes his knot inside.

her nails dig into his shoulders to keep him in place, her body quivering in overstimulation. his cum is trapped inside her pussy and his blood is filling her cells and she smells even more like him. like she belongs to him. like she always had. like it was just this moment he was waiting on…

he bites her back. something inside him feels like it’s reaching into her, connecting them more than his knot. Her blood tastes like iron, like rust but he still wants it covering his teeth. she doesn’t have a scent gland like other shifters do but that doesn’t fucking matter. her pheromones are still coating the back of his throat. now he has her taste, too.

now they belong to each other.

she doesn’t even get angry, just kinda halfheartedly, softly, smacks his chest when she drinks her fill. then she falls asleep in his arms, stuck on his knot, his blood drying on her chin.

immediately, he knows hes screwed.

his rut ends and she disappears the next morning. his alpha is immediately on high alert and he has to calm himself down bc /she is not his mate./ but his alpha keeps trying to track her scent, whimpering inside him. making him restless. why did she leave? /because the rut is over./ she could be pregnant. /she is not pregnant./ but she could be. and this world is cruel. /she is an apex predator./ but she’s really bad at being one!

he breaks down at the 12 hour mark after he cant sleep in the bed that smells like her. he follows her to work and basically has to keep himself from wolfing out in front of her and her coworkers in this nice ass art gallery. he has to make up an excuse to be close to her 😭

this is all ive got so far, plotwise. minus readers mommy issues subplot and peters found family. plus just the world building elements.

thank u nonnie for givin me an excuse to yap. …this ask took three days to answer lol i was so excited.

[liz-allyn]

The consequences of being Spiderman

Summary: "I don't think I've ever heard you lie" + You and Peter have been dating for a while but what happens when he keeps making excuses and pushes away from you? aka he forgets your anniversary because he was too busy being spiderman angst

A/N: I've never written angst without a happy ending before so this was very interesting! Please let me know your thoughts. < 3!

It started small. Leaving earlier from movie nights and just saying “Hi” as he ran past you on campus instead of giving you a hug before his next class. You brushed it off mostly, it was understandable. Finals week was coming up and you knew some of Peter’s teachers were notorious for being difficult.

Then it got bigger. Suddenly he was canceling dates at the last minute and it seemed as if he was actively avoiding you on campus. Anytime you tried to reach out or ask what was wrong Peter just brushed you off. “Everything is fine,” he’d tell you before racing off to deal with what he’ll later tell you was the umpteenth time he forgot his pencil case in the science building. Funny considering you can always see it in his backpack—the heart charm you gave to him when you first started still dangling from the zipper—as it hangs from where Peter always forgets to zipper up his bag. 

It was fine, you would tell yourself. As couples got more comfortable it makes sense that things would change. Honeymoon phase and all am I right?

The straw that broke the camel's back was your six month anniversary dinner. 

You had gotten all dolled up excited at the prospect of finally being able to spend some time with Peter. You had on your cutest heels and a pretty red dress. The one that you saw made Peter’s gaze linger a little longer whenever you wore it out. 

The reservation was for 7:30 but you wanted to be a little early and got there at 7:15. You checked yourself in and waited for Peter to show up. 

At 7:30 you reapplied your lipstick and they called your name. 

You check your phone after ordering some water. The numbers 7:45 glaring at you from your screen. 

The waitress gave you a pitying smile as she refilled your lone glass of water. Your phone now reads eight o’clock and you can feel pinpricks of tears at the corner of your eyes.

At 8:30 you're asked to leave the table and leave. By nine you're sitting on the subway with smudged mascara and a broken heart. 

You slam your apartment door and slide onto the floor finally letting yourself cry. After a while you make your way into the bedroom. Without enough energy to change you flop yourself onto the bed seeking the comfort of your blanket and pillows. The cute heels you’d been wearing all night have left red marks on your heels and you fall asleep feeling like an idiot. 

Peter walks into your apartment after a pretty successful patrol. Saved a cat from a tree, helped an old lady with groceries, the works.

He grimaces at the time lightly dropping his bag near the door. 11pm you were probably asleep already but he hopes he can get some cuddles in. Being Spiderman was always very tiring no matter how good it made him feel to protect the people of New York City.

Finally relaxing into the comfort of home he turns to grab some water right next to the calendar. The calendar where today’s date was circled in red, bold words of 6 months!! Covering the square. . He remembers smiling as you drew the little hearts around it while he made a reservation at the nicest restaurant he could afford. 

Shit.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He rushes to check his phone hoping somehow the calendar was wrong. But no, it flashed the date back to him. Taunting him with his own notification and the texts from you. 

Creeping into your shared bedroom he peers in and sees you sleeping. Shit you were so gorgeous. In his favorite dress with your hair clearly having been done up before. As he walks closer he sees the red on your heels and the smudged make up on your face. Delicately he moves the hair out of your face and takes your shoes off the bed. 

You shift at the movement and open your eyes.

“...Peter?” 

“Hey love it’s me. I’m sorry I missed our date”

“I waited” You sniffle “for so long”

“I know. I know. I’m so sorry, love.” He pleads, reaching out to your face. “I just… I had something to do.”

You scooch backwards fully up now.

“That’s it though isn’t it. Always something to do Peter. Somewhere to be that isn't near me.” You start to stand up and head out into the hallway. “I can’t do this anymore Peter. I can’t keep trying and trying to connect with you when you obviously don’t want me here”

You make it all the way to the door and slip on your shoes before Peter catches up. He nearly trips on his own feet to get to you after processing what you said.

“Babe, wait!” He tries to reach out to you but you take a step back. “Please! Baby, I love you.”

You laugh and choke back a sob.

“You know I don’t think I’ve ever heard you lie” 

You storm out the door leaving Peter with a backpack filled with his spiderman suit and a small pencil case with heart on the zipper behind. 

Shit. He really messed up this time didn’t he. 

A/N: Thank you so much for reading!!! Comments and reblogs are appreciated! < 33

[liz-allyn]

Part 2 Excerpts from “Don’t Be a Sucker” (1947)

Divide and conquer is in their playbook.

[liz-allyn]

THUNDERBOLTS*

[liz-allyn]

Part 2 Excerpts from “Don’t Be a Sucker” (1947)

Divide and conquer is in their playbook.

[liz-allyn]