Okay yes. It's smut which never ever goes on this blog but it is w o r t h t h e c o r r u p t i o n
3 is the Magic Number
For @wicked-blathers' Kink or Treat event! Yes I'm several days late, shhh, it's fine..
Summary: you and Peter decide it's time to start trying to expand your family
Warnings: strong breeding kink, soft dom Peter, overstimulation, creampies, daddy kink, choking, did I mention breeding kink? Also Peter having baby fever.
It all started when your cousin brought over her infant at Thanksgiving.
You couldn't help but coo over the baby, with his bright eyes and gummy smile and little fingers. When your cousin asked if you wanted to hold him, you immediately said yes and brought him over to Peter.
"Look at him! Isn't he cute?" You gushed to your husband.
"Yeah, he's quite the charmer already," Peter commented. But his eyes weren't on the baby, they were on you.
"You look like a natural holding him," He whispered as his arm wrapped around your waist.
You didn't think much of his comment at the time.
That night, your legs shook as he held them over his shoulders, thrusting into you deeply.
"Gonna fill ya up," Peter whispered, his eyes never leaving the sight of his cock entering you, "Ya want that?"
"P-please," you choked out. At the time, you were so focused on how he was hitting that sweet spot that you didn't realize this was the first time he talked about coming inside you.
In hindsight, you couldn't blame yourself for not picking up on the signs. It was difficult when his calloused fingers were rubbing tight circles on your clit.
You did notice how the following month, when your family had gathered together, Peter couldn't take his eyes off of your cousin's baby.
"I think Peter wants one too," Your cousin motioned over to the table.
You looked to find Peter was kneeling down at the table, causing him to be at eye level with Reid, who was currently lying down in the baby lounger.
It was a sweet sight, Peter offering one of his fingers to Reid, his honeyed eyes never leaving the baby. A soft smile stretched onto his face as Reid attempted to wrap his tiny fingers around Peter's.
Other relatives mentioned their theories on Peter's desire to have children to you that night. You knew he wanted kids, it was one of the first things you two discussed on your first date.
You had been married for several years, taking the steps towards having children: paying off student debt, finding stable jobs, buying a townhouse.
It came to a head when you received a reminder from your OBGYN one night.
"Fuck, I gotta make an appointment," you said out loud.
Peter looked up from the exams he had been grading, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, "For what?"
"My IUD. It's been five years and I need to get it replaced," you explained as you pulled the app up on your phone to look at the availability of appointments.
"Or," Peter started, his fingers toying with the pen, "you could…..not replace it."
You nearly dropped your phone at the comment, "What do you mean not replace it?"
The tips of Peter's ears were turning red, which was funny considering he was the one who brought it up.
"You could just… have it taken out," He mumbled, his long fingers fidgeting with the pen he had been using to grade.
"If you want to start trying for a kid, I need you to actually say it instead of beating around the-"
"I want to start trying for a kid. I've wanted to start trying since I saw you holding Reid at Thanksgiving."
There was silence after his statement as you processed your husband's words.
"I….I've wanted to start trying since I saw you sitting with Reid when we went to my family's for Hanukkah." You admitted.
His eyes widened. Peter knew you wanted kids just like him, but he honestly wasn't sure what to expect when he brought this up. He had prepared himself for "we're not ready" or "not yet".
"So….we should start trying for a kid," He stated.
You couldn't help but giggle, "Well, first I have to get my IUD taken out."
Peter joined you in laughter, "That is kinda important."
You wiggled your eyebrows, "Kinda?"
"Yeah, just a little." Your giggles erupted into full on laughter, filling the bedroom.
"So when can you get it taken out?" Peter asked as his laughter subsided.
"Eager, are we?" You grinned.
"I've been waiting for this since our first date, forgive me," Peter deadpanned. Despite his tone, the comment still brought heat to your face.
Trying to play it off, you looked at your phone, pulling up the app your doctor's office used.
"The soonest appointment is next Wednesday at two-thirty."
"Take it."
—---------------------------------------
To say Peter was excited was an understatement.
"Apparently taking prenatal vitamins before you get pregnant helps," He said as he held up the bottle.
"Who told you that?" You asked before taking a bite of your apple.
"May."
You nearly choked on the piece of fruit, "Did you tell your aunt we're trying to conceive?!"
Peter shrugged, "She outwardly expressed that she wanted to be a grandparent when I turned eighteen. I figured if anyone has any tips, it's the person who works in a hospital."
"Who else have you told? The latest villain you've been fighting?"
"We should also stop drinking now. And stop eating fish high in Mercury. Those things lower your fertility," Peter said as he read over the article on his laptop, ignoring your comment.
"You do realize that this won't happen overnight, right?" You were excited but didn't want Peter to be disappointed.
"I know. But you can also get pregnant as soon as you get your IUD taken out. So we might as well increase our chances."
"I also can experience cramps and slight bleeding when I get my IUD taken out. So it's unlikely we'll be able to start on Wednesday," you explained.
"Oh," Peter said, clearly having not thought about that, "Well, that gives us more time for the vitamins to take effect and to get all the alcohol and mercury out of ya."
—------------
The removal was far less painful than the insertion.
As you entered your apartment, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest.
"How ya feeling?" Peter murmured into your hair.
"Sore. I'm also bleeding."
Peter squeezed the flesh of your waist, "I'm sorry bug."
"I feel bad for you. You seemed pretty excited to start," you giggled. You couldn't help it; the slight pout on Peter's face was adorable.
Peter shrugged, "I've waited six years. What's a few more days gonna do?"
You couldn't help but lean your head into his chest, his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed against your forehead, his beard creating a soft friction.
"I love you bug," he whispered against your skin.
"I love you too Tiger," you looked up, your chin against his chest, "you've really waited six years for this?"
Peter's cheeks became flushed, "Yeah."
"Pete, we've been together for six years."
Now the tips of Peter's ears were bright red, "I….I figured you were the one early."
A giggle escapes your lips, the one that always brought a smile to Peter's face because it was sweeter than any love song he had ever heard, "How early Pete?"
"First date," you heard your husband mumble.
—----------------------
Usually on Saturdays, you and Peter were up and running errands.
But today, you two opted to sleep in. It was nice to wake up and find that he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him.
"Hi bug," He whispered into your shoulder, his voice deeper than usual.
"Hi Tiger," you whispered back, your fingers brushing the hair away from his forehead.
"How ya feeling?" His nose brushed against yours. You couldn't help but admire the way his eye crinkles had become more pronounced over the years, along with the smattering of gray hairs throughout his beard and hair.
"Pretty good. Think my body has adjusted to not having something inserted up my vagina."
Peter grimaced, "When you say it like that, it sounds like some form of torture."
"Can't most of the things those with a uterus have to do, be classified as torture? Waxing, shaving our arms and legs, growing a human?"
"Growing a human isn't torture if you want it," He countered.
"I know, but it's not gonna be easy."
"I know," he pressed his lips against your temple, "and I'll be there for you every step of the way."
"Even if it's two in the morning and I'm craving pretzels and mint chocolate chip ice cream?" You asked.
"The bodega is just a few swings away," Peter assured you, bringing a smile to your face.
"What about when I cry over otters due to my emotions being heightened?" You asked, a light tease lacing your voice.
Peter rolled his eyes, "you already cry at otters."
"They're so cute! And they hold hands so-"
"So they don't get separated when they sleep," Peter finished for you.
"Have I cried over Otters before?" You asked, confused.
Peter chuckled as he stroked your hair, "when you're quite drunk. So I'd say I'm pretty prepared."
You rested your head on his chest, breathing to the rhyming of his heartbeat.
"I've also helped deliver several babies in the back of a taxi," Peter added, "So I have you covered there."
You shuddered at the thought, "I'd rather you swing me through the city than deliver our kid in the back of a taxi."
"Perhaps we should get you pregnant first before we decide on delivery options," Peter suggested, wiggling his eyebrows.
"I'm honestly surprised you didn't jump on me when I said I felt fine," you admitted.
"I wanted to be polite and say good morning first," Peter said, sheepishly. It was hard not to jump on you, but you were his wife after all, not some animal.
Your laughter was silenced by Peter's lips, his body now pressing against yours.
A whimper escaped your lips as you felt Peter's hips roll against yours. His large hands snaked underneath your Tshirt, squeezing your breasts.
Your hands tangled themselves into Peter's hair, tugging on the messy locks in an attempt to pull his lips away from your neck and back up to yours.
The removal of your clothes wasn't sexy or smooth. At one point, Peter had to get off you to pull down his sweats, huffing as he did so.
"Wanna be close to you," He mumbled as he got back on top of you. You continued to chuckle.
"I'd say you're about to be very close to me," Your chuckle turned into a gasp as Peter pulled down your shorts, your core now exposed to the cool air.
Peter's body shimmied down the bed, placing his head in between your thighs.
"That's n-not- oh- h-how babies a-are made," you gasped as his tongue began lapping up and down your slit.
"Gotta warm ya up," was all he explained before attaching his lips to your clit. In hindsight, it wasn't a bad idea. It had been close to a week since you two were last intimate.
The gaze of his honey-clouded eyes burned into your bare skin. He watched your face as his fingers filled you. You were beautiful as always, with your slightly parted lips and knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets.
But today was different. It wasn't that he didn't desire you all the time, wished to be consumed by you and make a home amists tangled bedsheets.
He just didn't think it was possible to desire you any more than he already did.
But then he saw you look at that baby, your big eyes filled with love, adoration, and care. And then you agreed to have his child.
He wanted to bury himself in you.
You were teetering over the edge when he pulled himself up and away from your thighs. A whine left your lips, your hips desperately bucking up as a desperate attempt to chase some friction, some type of relief.
"I-I know but, but if I keep going…." He shook his head as he chuckled at himself. Ironic that he was now slightly embarrassed at how close he already was to coming, considering he originally didn't want to go on a blind date with you.
Funny how things change.
Moans trailed past your lips, down your chin at the sensation of his hard cock slipping through your wetness. Fuck, you could hear yourself, hear how wet you were. The tip of his cock repeatedly brushed over your throbbing clit.
"I won't last much longer," Peter finished his sentence as he pushed himself into you.
He didn't mind the sensation of your fingernails digging into his broad shoulders. Your touch always grounded him. It was what he craved at the end of a long day, at the end of a strenuous night of patrolling.
Peter entered you slowly, bottoming out. For several moments, the bedroom was silent, apart from your panting. Your eyes couldn't leave his. It felt like your first time again, how neither one of you seemed to want to make the first move. But not out of hesitation, not out of fear of making a mistake.
You wanted to savor the moment. But you also wanted him to consume you.
So, you reached a hand up to push several strands of hair out his eyes, allowing him to see your reassuring nod. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in.
The bedroom began to be filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, your moans blending with his heavy panting.
Fuck you were gorgeous with your head thrown back against the pillow, back arched. It wasn't the first time he had seen such a sight. He had even taken a picture of it before, the polaroid tucked away in his wallet.
It was the fact that Peter was going to come inside you, without anything to prevent himself from filling you up. Chances were low you'd get pregnant right away, unless there was something new he was about to learn regarding the effects of a radioactive spider bite.
But it could happen, the fact that you two would continue trying to make it happen, drove him absolutely wild.
"Gonna fill you up real good, 'kay?" You nodded, the corners of your vision beginning to blur from the intense pleasure.
"Yeah? Is that what you want? To be full of me?"
The edge was getting closer and closer, making it difficult for you to form a coherent response.
"You wanna what?" Peter asked as one of his hands snaked down to where your two bodies met.
"W-wanna….I wanna…." His thrusts were getting harder, more purposeful. The circles he was tracing on your clit added to the pleasure he was submerging you in.
"Use your words pretty girl," He cooed, "C'mon, you can do it."
"W-wanna make you a Daddy." It was now Peter's turn to widen his eyes at your words. For a brief moment, his hips stilled.
Then they picked back up again, this time with a determined force.
"Come. Now. Come right fucking now," He grunted.
Peter was a lot of things, and sometimes that was dominant in the bedroom. But he had never ordered you like that.
"You heard me. Want you to make a mess on my cock before I fill ya up." He lifted up your legs, pinning them to his hips. The new position allowed him to fuck you even deeper, pushing you over.
You were incoherent as you came, only whines mixed with slurred chants of his name leaving your mouth. Peter followed quickly behind you; it had been tortured not having sex with you or masturbating for nearly a week, but he knew it would be worth it.
When your eyes opened, your knees were now pressed to your chest, Peter thrusting into you.
Fuck, had he not come yet? No, that was impossible. He had. You remember the feeling of warmth spreading through you, his hips stuttering, the raspy goans he let out- the telltale sign of him coming.
He had come, and by how full you felt, quite a bit.
Fuck.
Peter felt your eyes boring into his skin. Part of him felt guilty for not feeling guilty about continuing to fuck you.
But you just felt so good coming around his cock. And even though it was far from the first time he came inside you, it felt so much better now, now that he knew you wanted him to fill you up, you wanted his cum to take.
Peter needed it to take, it was an overwhelming desire he now had. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, stomach round and your tits full. Thoughts of you holding a baby that had his eyes and your hair. Thoughts of a little one running around the place.
Your lips were engulfed in a sloppy kiss, jolts of pleasure lighting up your body with each thrust. His body pressed your hips further into the pillow he had placed underneath.
"Gotta make sure n-nothin comes out," he explained in between kisses, his voice breathless.
All you could do was nod and cling onto him. You were entirely at his mercy and it thrilled you. Maybe in hindsight you should be concerned about how your husband seemed downright feral for you. Maybe you should reflect upon how much you enjoyed it in your next therapy session.
Lots of maybes. But for once, you weren't concerned about them. They weren't creeping into your brain, slowly but surely taking over your thoughts until it consumed you.
You were in a good place. You had a steady job that you enjoyed at least half of the time, depending on the day. You had a roof over your head. You were with someone who loved you, all parts of you.
This was what safety felt like. This was security.
"I love you," you whispered so softly, you were surprised he was able to hear it.
"Love you too," He pressed another kiss ro your lips, "You're gonna look s'pretty, full of me."
That mouth of his was going to be the death of you.
"Y'gonna be such a good mama too," the sweet words were a stark contrast to his sharp thrusts.
You wanted to praise him, to give him words of encouragement. But all you could was just nod your head as he continued to thrust into you. The only sounds that came out of you were pathetic whines as he continued thrusting into you.
Peter loved how your whines increased in pitch as his cock brushed against that sweet spot over and over. A near scowl formed as he saw you bury your head into the pillow.
"What's the matter? Don't want the neighbors to hear how badly you want me to put a baby in ya?"
You clenched at his words, eliciting a groan from Peter that was so guttural, your legs began to shake.
Every little reaction your body had to him only pushed Peter forward. The coil in your stomach was tightening. Peter knew you were close, your teeth always dug into your bottom lip, your hands desperately clinging onto any part of him you could reach.
"C'mon bug, n-need ya to make a mess on Daddy's cock," He said before sinking his teeth into your neck.
His words, combined with the sudden pain of his teeth digging into your, drove you over that sweet edge. He was the ocean, pushing and pulling you under. Just when you thought you had reached the surface, you were pulled back in by his long fingers stroking your clit, prolonging your pleasure.
Peter only lasted a few more thrusts before he came inside you again. You felt spent, unable to move.
He acted quickly, pulling out of you and quickly replacing his cock with his fingers.
Peter's name came out as a strangled moan when you felt his fingers curl inside you.
"I know, it's sensitive," He moved his body down until he was in-between your legs, "But I'd hate for any drop to go to waste."
Your hands latched onto his hair as he closed his mouth around your clit. It was too much: your previous orgasms, Peter's current goal of keeping you full of him.
Overstimulation was kicking in, causing you to throw your head back. Your thighs wrapped around his head, your body going against what your brain was saying.
He fucked his cum back into you with his fingers, his tongue lapping at your swollen bundle of nerves. Peter grinded his hips into the mattress. He couldn't help it, you sounded so pretty when you chanted his name like that.
"Just one more, give me one more, 'kay Bug?" He said in response to your desperate whines.
Your next orgasm was intense, your walls squeezing Peter's fingers so tightly that you were surprised they were still able to move.
Your head rested against the pillow, the room filled with nothing but heavy panting. The bed creaked as Peter's body moved.
Suddenly, your back was no longer touching the mattress. Instead, you felt the cool air touching your skin, your head spinning from the sudden movement.
Peter's hands gripped your hips, holding you above his. A gasp escaped your lips upon feeling his cock slip through your folds.
The ache you felt as his cock entered you was familiar and warm. When you looked up, it was the first time you noticed that his eyes had darkened, almost black.
He looked hungry.
"I got ya, just hold onto me." Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as he thrusted into you.
Pleasure quickly overtook the pain. Peter was memorizing with his head thrown back, kiss swollen lips parted. His hands gripped your hips, driving you down on his cock.
God, you could stare at him for hours.
"H-how do y-you still have anything left?" You asked, breathless.
Peter let out a low chuckle, "Didn't jack off for a week. Been savin' up for ya."
Fuck. He had been planning this, planning to fuck you until you were reduced to nothing but broken whines and grabby hands.
And his plan was working.
You slouched over, your head hovering above his broad chest. The room felt hazy. It took everything in you to focus on Peter's chest, the smattering of hairs, freckles, and moles. His skin grounded you, having physical proof that he was safe and here with you, that he wasn't still out on patrol and you were just imagining scenarios to calm yourself.
You rocked your hips forward, grinding against his. The movement earned a lewd groan from your husband, one of his hands trailing up from your hips to clutch at your chest.
Peter was trying to hold out, was trying to be respectful and a considerate husband. But when your lips attached themselves to his neck, your teeth sinking into his flesh, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.
He bent his knees, allowing him to thrust into you while his other hand snaked up to your throat.
"Touch yourself," he groaned, looking up at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world. Like he was looking up at a piece of artwork in The Louvre, and not you.
But that was one of Peter's habits that you fell in love with. He made you feel special, made you feel worthy enough. Made all the self doubt you held wash away in moments like these.
So you listened to him, a hand reaching down to where your two bodies met.
The pleasure ebbed and flowed into and out of sensitivity. Your walls clenched around his cock, pushing him closer.
Peter tried, he really did. But you felt so divine, so transcendent, he couldn't help it. He threw his head back as he came, slamming your hips down against his as he emptied inside of you.
The sensation of feeling him come inside, combined with how full you felt, pushed you over. You slumped forward, your head resting on his chest.
Peter's hands remained on your hips, pinning them to his.
"Just stay there baby. Soak me up." You nodded your head weakly at his words. It wasn't like you could move, given the grip he had on your body.
The two of you laid there in bed, your hearts racing. Once he realized you wouldn't move (you were far too spent), Peter's hands trailed up to your back, drawing comforting circles.
After a while, he wrapped his arms around you and gently switched positions, your back now against the mattress. You hissed as he pulled out.
"B-break," you mumbled.
"I got ya," He whispered in between pressing feather-like kisses across your forehead and temple.
"You think it took?" Peter asked after a few moments of silence.
You couldn't help but giggle, "Can't your Spidey sense tell?"
Peter moved down, pressing his ear against your stomach as if it were a shell from the ocean.
"Can't hear anything, guess we gotta try again," he smirked.
"You seem really broken up about it," you deadpanned. Peter's face broke out onto a grin.
"Darn," His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he even snapped his fingers for added effect.
"What happened to wanting it to take the first time?"
Peter shrugged, "I mean, I still want to put a baby in you sooner rather than later, but…figured it would be fun to try for a little bit."
Your fingers ran through Peter's hair, trailing down to his bearded cheek, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you're insatiable."
Peter's lips formed a mischievous smirk before they began nipping at your neck, making its way up to your jawline.
"Maybe you can help me?" He asked, his breath hot on your ear.
"I need a break, I don't have a super short recovery time due to a radioactive spider bite." You looked into his eyes, hoping your pout would be intimidating, or show your annoyance.
Instead, Peter laughed at your adorable expression. His eyes looked over your features as his fingers brushed against your cheek.
"I hope they get your nose," He said before placing a kiss to it. The comment brought warmth to your face and body.
"I hope they get your hair. And eyes."
Peter shook his head, "You have way better eyes."
"You have kind eyes. I want our kids to be kind," you admitted, your fingers gently threading through his hair.
"They will be," Peter pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "Because you're their Mom, the kindest person I know."
"They also have you as their dad."
Peter didn't respond, focusing on tracing your features with his long fingers.
"I still want them to have your eyes," He admitted, a sheepish smile overtaking his face.
You rolled your eyes, "Can you use your Spidey sense to tell them that?"
Peter laughed, nuzzling his nose against yours, "Guess I'll have to wait until they can hear noises and recognize voices."
And he did. When you showed him the positive pregnancy test six months later, he talked to your growing bump every night. Sometimes he told stories, sometimes he whispered dreams and hopes. But always, he managed to make a reference about how your child needed to ensure that they had your eyes.
In true Parker fashion, Benjamin Richard Parker was born with honey-casted eyes, just like his father.
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