petrparkrslut

[petrparkrslut]

amoeba

you and peter still act like highschool sweathearts after years of being together. both of you have no intentions of ever changing.

amoeba by clairo

pairings: tasm!peterparker x fem!reader

warnings: fluff fluff fluff overload, happy couple, a writer who hasn’t written in two months

wc: 1k (quick write)

Your body glistens in the natural glow of being loved as you season the pasta in your pot. Every shake of salt you add into the sauce is done with overflowing love for the person its being made for. You love cooking for Peter, and he loves how excited you get each time he tells you how amazing it is.

Your skin is covered by an ivory cami that sits tightly across your torso. The small top is paired with an innocent pair of cotton panties, the baby pink material complimented by its small line of lace sewn in around the outsides.

Your throat softly hums the tune coming from your dad's old record player, hips gently moving to the sound. Clairos voice harmonizes around the space of you and Peter's apartment, volume cranked so high up you worry the old speakers will crash out. 

“Aren't you glad that you reside, in a hell and in disguise? Nobody yet everything, a pool to shed your memory,” you sing along softly as your painted toes dance around the kitchen tile. A section of hair falls loose from your claw clip at the movement, and lays delicately against your sun kissed shoulder. 

One of Peter's favorite things about you was the way you always seemed to look sunkissed. Even in the winter, when you come home with a ruby red nose and frozen fingers. You are walking sunshine to that boy, and he couldn't get enough of it.

“Could you say you even tried? You haven't called your family twice,” you reach for the strainer as you continue to sing along, “i can hope tonight goes differently. But I show up to the party just to leave.”

You carefully pour the hot pasta through the strainer. You know if that water even so much as pecked that perfect skin of yours Peter would be all over trying to make sure you feel better. Part of you wanted to spill a little bit of the hot water on your hands so that his lips would kiss the skin over and over again until you felt good as new.

Peters keys work to open the door, the muffled sounds of your favorite song muffled through the wood. He grins to himself at your antics; knowing that the speakers are cranked up to their highest volume. 

He walks in equipped with his favorite bag (the one you made him for your second anniversary) and a beautiful bouquet of flowers. He kicks his lanky shoes off by the door, and lines them up perfectly next to yours because he knows how much you hate a mess.

He walks further into the apartment, locking his eyes on his girl. Your hair was clipped messily into your favorite clip, a bright white tank hugging your figure and an adorable pair of pink undies to go with it. He can't help but smile at the woman in front of him, admiring your features. Your back is faced to him as you mix your homemade blush sauce into the pasta, the freckle on your butt peeking out. 

Your voice, angelic to him, sings out the rest of the lyrics as your hips sway back and forth unknowingly. The stretch marks on your back peek out from underneath the camisole, another one of Peter's favorites. You've had them for ages, and god did you hate them before you met him. He adores them. He thinks theyre perfectly you, and some of the most unique stretch marks he's ever seen.

He loves the way they show your growth into the beautiful woman you are today. He sees them as a mark of your maturity, an artifact of your creation. Maybe that's just one man's opinion, but boy did he love you for all you had.

He sneaks up behind you as you continue to mix with your favorite wooden spoons. His chest flutters once he notices the two bowls set out beside you, obsessing over the fact that one of those bowls was for him. 

His arms snake around your waste lovingly, along with a gentle kiss on the cheek as your back presses against his chest. 

You jump at the sudden touch, yet immediately melt into the familiar hold once you realize who it is. 

“Peter!” you rest the spoon against the pot the moment you feel him around you. Your arms wrap around his neck into a blissful hug at his unexpected presence. You love when he's home early.

“Hi ladybug,” he hugs you back immediately as the scent of your food catches his attention. “It smells amazing.”

“I know! It turned out so good this time Peter. Wait til you see the color of the blush sauce. It's perfect. You'll love it. Why are you home early?” you turn the volume down as you pour the pasta into the two separate bowls.

“I missed you bug, it's friday and i feel like i haven't seen you all week. And I know the flowers from a couple of weeks ago are starting to die out, so I got some new ones for you,” you turn back around to come face to face with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Different colored carnations and pops of babys breath flowers were held tight in his hands, a small bow holding the bunch together. Your heart melts at the sight of them.

“They're beautiful, I love them. Thank you so much. They're perfect,” you smile as he hands them to you. His small gestures make your stomach flip. They've never stopped, no matter how long you've stayed together. He still treats you how he did when you first started dating.

“Lets eat, yeah? You can tell me all about this new and improved blush sauce,” he gives you a cheeky smile as he wraps his arms around your lower back. Your foreheads pressed together once your own arms hurried back around his neck. No matter how close you are to him you always seem to miss his touch. His lips are pressed to yours in an instant, the sound of your favorite song and the smell of fresh flowers and homemade meals surrounding your home.

/

submission box ↠ here

[petrparkrslut]

bug boy

you and peter have been enemies since you could remember, and staying late in class alone together proves that. this was requested but i lost it in my inbox

pairings: tasm!peterparker x reader (college ages)

warnings: smut, oral sex (fem recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), petnames, half edited work

wc: 5.1k

18+, NSFW

You internally groan as your professor tells you your new lab partner, but force yourself to walk over to your new seat nonetheless. Your feet trudge along the worn out flooring, preparing yourself for the next semester with Peter Parker.

You and Peter have known eachother since junior high, and it seems like you can never get away from each other. His academic plan has followed you through highschool, and now through college as well. The moment you heard Peter Parker’s name called at graduation you figured you would never have to see him again. But the moment he announced he would be attending the same school as you, you realized there was no way he could ever leave your life. That thought made you angrier than you thought anything could.

And as you sat next to him in your Friday morning chem class, the fact that he looked even better up close really made you angrier than anything could. He grew out his hair since graduation, his brunette strands toppling over each other effortlessly. You hated his super short hair, the way it made his forehead look bigger and how it all disappeared the moment he put a hat on. Now, his hair long and stuck up straight made your jaw clench in frustration. It’s harder to hate someone when they look lovable.

“Morning, y/n,” he speaks to you, voice deeper than the last time you’ve heard it. You turn to him to meet his brown eyes, his dark lashes resting on top of them.

“Morning, bug boy,” you whisper the last two words at him with a knowing smile. His hand slaps over your mouth quickly, a panicked look settling in.

“Quiet down about that maybe?” He released his grip off of your face, revealing your coy smile underneath it. You think back to junior year of highschool when your class went on a trip to Los Angeles.

His door was cracked open as you and the rest of the class were running down the hall in bathing suits, about to take a quick swim before you left the next day. You paused in front of his door, telling your friends you’ll catch up with them as your hand reached for the door handle and pushed it open.

He stood there in his suit, mask off and hair ruffled.

“What the fuck?” You stared at him with a towel in your hands, and listened to his shitty explanation for the next half hour. Since then you’ve been one of the only people in the world who knew who he was, and you loved it.

“Alright, damn,” you raise your hands in defense, a small smile spreading across your face. His teeth bite the inside of his mouth, hollowing out his right cheek in annoyance. You watch closely as his fingers tap his purple pen against the table repeatedly at an alarmingly quick rate.

The rest of the class went by in silence between the two of you. You would peer over to his notes occasionally once the professor was speaking too quickly, his hands always gently tilting the paper towards you so you could read it. You could tell how much he hated doing it, how much your lack of speed frustrated him. Yet he felt too guilty not helping you out.

“I’ll see everyone on Tuesday, my office hours are taped to the door. This room will be open until 10, work on anything you want as long as you clean it up,” the professor throws on her jacket and picks up her bags, heading towards the door as your classmates pack up.

You begin to close your notebooks and stow away your pens when you realize the stillness to your side. You roll your eyes at the man next to you; notebooks out and pen writing. Of course he’s staying after class. Your eyes drift towards the double doors of the classroom, and just as you expected, everyone is leaving. Not a single person staying expect for Peter Parker.

You hated how much effort he put in. How much he consistently proved to be better than you without even trying.

“You’re staying?” You shove your books into your bag lazily.

“Hm?” He raises his head from his writing to look at you, “Oh, yeah. Just have some extra thoughts, ‘bout the lesson.”

You refrain from rolling your eyes once more, worried they might stick so far back in your brain you’ll never be able to see again.

“Bullshit,” you mumble under your breath, an annoyed smile on your face. You store your pencils away neatly, complete silence filling the room around you.

“What?” He breathes out, head shaking as he tries to focus on the paper in front of him.

“Extra thoughts from the lesson? You have every word she spoke and your own side comments all over that hideous orange notebook.”

“Yeah, and I have more,” he shrugs, forearms covering the writing in front of him.

You stand behind him silently, the only noise bouncing around the wide room being the scribbling noises of his mechanical pencil. You roll your eyes at the red and blue colors that stain the cheap plastic of the pencil, forgetting how narcissistic he is.

You stand behind him silently for a couple seconds longer as he continues to ignore your presence. The veins on his arms flex every few moments as he writes stuff down hastily.

Quickly, you grasp the paper he’s writing on and snag it out from in front of him in one breath. His pencil drags across the sheet and onto the table in front of you two, the silence in the room being replaced by the screeching sound of graphite.

“What the fuck y/n!” his eyebrows turn inward as he glares at you. He rises from his chair to become almost level with you, still managing to tower over you by a couple of inches. A smile spreads across your face in satisfaction as Peter tries to steal the paper back out of your hands.

“Whats with the stress, Parker? ‘You writing porn about me on here?” you taunt him with a cocky smile, your bright teeth peeking through. The paper gets transferred from hand to hand, eaving above your head and behind your back as Peter tries to grasp it from you.

You watch as his jaw clenches at your words, the vein in his forehead popping through as spite floods through his bloodline. Its easy; making him mad. The way you could hear his teeth grit together and his jaw pop if you listened hard enough.

“Jus’ give me the fucking paper,” he nods his head towards it as he growls towards you. You feel like laughing in his face at his loss, but you know his ego is too fragile for that.

You hold out the paper in front of you, and finally look at it for the first time since you got it. You stare at the writing with a blank stare, cocking one eyebrow up and looking at him. The paper is filled with diagrams and formulas for his webs and web shooter, not a single white space on the entire page. A large drawing of his idea is printed right in the middle, each and every part labeled in detail in precise hand writing. Youd be lying to yourself if you said you werent impressed, but youd never tell him that.

“Yeah this is fucking porn to you either way,” you toss his paper back at him, poking at him for never being able to quit the nerd persona but hiding the fact that you have so many questions about the writing.

He catches it quickly, having quicker reflexes because of his bite. You wanna roll your eyes at his ability to do everything perfect, but cant help yourself get distracted at the thought of what else that bite made him capable of doing. His hand runs through his dark hair in stress as he straightens out his paper, his jawline flexing and his bicep releasing tension.

He sits back down in his seat with a huff, erasing the pencil line that was formed when you pulled the paper from underneath him. He goes back to writing in a second, finding room on the jam packed sheet to add tiny notes and ideas.

“Can you come here for a second?” he asks for you without looking up, eyes still buried in his writing. You walk over to him reluctantly as he finishes writing his last sentence.

You hoist your body on top of the lab table he's working on, sitting cross legged atop of the black material. He looks at you and studies your body, leaving you to assume its because of something to do with the paper in front of him. You wait patiently as he figures out exactly where to fact check with you.

Suddenly, his hands grasp your wrist, pulling it closer to him gently with focused eyes. A chill is sent down your spine at the feeling of his cold touch, thumbs stroking the skin that leads to the palm of your hands. Every move he makes is done with purpose, eyes flickering back and forth in calculated movements and fingers toying with your skin geniusly.

“I need you to do this with your hands, okay?” his voice is low as he looks at you, dead focused on the task in front of him. You watch in awe as he takes his middle and ring finger and curls them inward, connecting them to his wrist in a slow movement. Your stomach aches at his demonstration, his textured fingers curving together as one skillfully.

You take a hard gulp, mirroring his movement as his thumb presses softly against the vein on your wrist. You're guessing its so he can figure out when theyll flex upwards the most, but what do you know.

“Good,” he mumbles with a nod of approval as he writes down any new observations. Your thighs clench at the word of praise, and you pray he doesnt notice.

“Youre gonna do the same thing for me, just quicker this time. Like this,” he demonstrates again, curling his two fingers up but this time in a quick and forceful movement. Your throat runs dry in desperation at the speed, shaking it off as you realize who youre talking about here.

You obey his request again, his thumb pressing a little harder into your wrist this time.

“Good girl,” he lets out almost inaudibly as he writes down his final thoughts. You swear you almost choke at his words, your stomach tensing and your core dripping.

Your body shimmies to the end of the table, legs uncrossing and now dangling off the side. He pretends to continue writing on his paper, even when all he can think about is the girl sitting on top of his table.

He lifts his head up slowly so that hes able to subtly take all of you in. Youre sat on top of it with your hands on your thighs as his eyes reach your own. All the small noises in the empty room come to a complete halt as he stares at you, desperately trying to figure you out.

“‘You waiting for me to leave?” he says to you, and your cheeks flush red when you realize you couldve left a long time ago.

“Do you want me to be waiting for you to leave?” you raise an eyebrow at him, an unamused look on your face as he shoves his papers into his bag. He shakes his head with a quiet huff, lean fingers zippering his boring black bag.

You snicker, beginning to hop off of the table to leave before being stopped. Two hands are held firmly against your waist, stopping you from getting off the table. You look at him with a confused glance, wondering why he wont allow you to leave and also wondering how the hell he’s so fast.

“What are you-”

“Do you even realize the effect my words have on you?” his nervous face is replaced with a grin, “you fucking live for my mouth. Every decision you make is based on what I say.”

“What?” you stammer on your words as his hands grip deeper and deeper into your skin. His feet move in between your legs, now standing in between your thighs as he speaks to you.

“What were you just about to do, tell me,” he nods his head to you.

“I was trying to leave before you fucking seduced me,” you spit.

“You were leaving because I pointed out that you were still here. You stayed in the first place after I told you that I'm staying. Are you always this submissive with all those guys you fuck from Flash’s parties?” he gives you a knowing smirk, like he knows he hit a weak spot. Your face creases in complete anger as you glare down at him.

You want to be mad at him, you want to curse him out until there's no words left, but all you can think about is the feeling of his hands sliding further down and onto your thighs. Your jaw clenches and the vein at the side of your forehead pops out in annoyance.

“You dont even know me,” you grit through a quiet voice. He shoots you a look that screams ‘of course i do because i know everything and will always be better than you’ and it makes you want to slap him silly.

“I know enough,” he shrugs.

“Go ahead and tell me one thing that you know about me.”

“I know your name, i know you fall under pressure, i know youre an A+ student with an F lifestyle, i know that this is making that genius brain of yours run wild,” he presses his thumb into the inside of your thigh, dangerously close to your heat. You refrain from squirming from his touch.

Your eyes are locked on his, watching his pupils move back and forth in small movements as they decide which of your wide eyes to land on. His hands slides further up your leg as both of his thumbs add pressure to your desperate skin. His face moves to the side of your head, lips perched a small distance away from your earlobe.

“And I know that youre too much of a fucking slut to admit that you dont want this,” he whispers in your ear with a low voice. Youre not sure if you should scream at him or whimper in defeat.

You feel his breath on the skin of your neck. Suddenly, his teeth tug on your ear, adding light pressure that makes your head spin. He releases the pressure as he moves down to underneath your ear, pausing for a minute before laying a delicate kiss on the nape of your neck. Your eyes flutter shut at the foreign feeling, and you roll your head back to give him more space.

He takes this as an opportunity, treating your long neck like a blank canvas with his mouth as the brush. His lips and tongue work flawlessly together as they leave their mark up and down your neck. His hands are still placed skillfully on your thighs, thumbs rubbing small circles onto the inside of them.

“Just tell me when to stop,” he whispers into your skin, the words exciting you as you assume that means hes going further. You nod, allowing him to have all of you.

Youre not sure how you got here; his hands up your legs and his lips on your neck. A few moments ago you hated his guts, you hated the way he spoke to you and the way he could never admit that he was wrong. But that usual gut wrenching pit of anger in your stomach has been quickly replaced with a gut wrenching pit of pure arousal.

It all happened so quick, yet for some reason you wish it had happened even sooner.

His lips trail up the shadow of your jaw line and kiss the inner corner of your lips, your heart skips a beat at the touch, everything feeling very real in this moment.

He takes a moment for you to loosen up before placing his lips on yours, the feeling being so new and so bizarre. Something about your history with him excited you, making you feel wanted even by the person who is supposed to hate you the most.

Your back straightens and you legs wrap around his waist at the kiss, unconsciously pulling his body closer to yours. Your cores hit eachother as he stands in between your legs, sending waves down your thighs.

His hands roam over your body as the kiss heats up, his tongue slipping through your cherry lips and playing with your own. Your tongues dance together effortlessly, as if youve done this a thousand times over. Parts of your body are squeezed and tugged at as his rough fingers move over every inch of you.

His hands reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head quickly. Your lips break apart for a small second as the fabric of your shirt comes between you two, only for the connection to be met again quickly as he pulls you closer.

His lips trail down to your chest and kiss in between your perfect breasts. He could drool at the side of them, the way they fill your bra perfectly and perk through the material subtly. He fantasized about this very moment an embarrassing amount of times.

Your fingers tangle throughout his dark hair as he does his magic, kissing in every spot he can find as you let out heavy breaths above him. His hands find their original place on your inner thighs, and you underestimated how much you missed the feeling of them there.

You can't relish in the feeling for long before they move right back up to your waist, toying with the elastic on your leggings. His textures fingers slide into the spandex with ease, running around your waist land and snapping the material against your skin.

His lips continue to mesh with your own as his hands work by your hips. Once he feels your body begin to grind into his waist mindlessly, a surge of confidence runs through him. Within no time your leggings are pulled down your legs and onto the floor, leaving you in only your black undergarments on top of the lab table.

He takes a step back, running his eyes over your entire body in awe. His swollen lips are slightly parted as he eyes your curved and smooth curves. Hes never looked at you like this; in such an angelic light. Youve always been the opposite to him.

Once you both got to college, he always saw you as the campus slut whos too afraid of commitment to ever settle. He hated how your beauty always let you get away with it, and he hated that he saw the beauty in the first place.

But now, all he can focus on is you. The way youre innocently perched on top of the classroom lab tables, hair sprawled across your shoulders and body almost completely exposed. Your cheeks are flushed red from the heat of the kiss a few moments ago, chest heaving up and down bringing your small gold necklace along with it.

He moves back in between your legs, pulling his own shirt off before you even get the chance. You cant help yourself as your eyes trail down to his toned chest and thick arms, the sight alone making your throat run dry.

“Can i touch you?” he whispers close to your ear. He feels as if he needs to clearly know whether or not you want this, considering you hate his guts. Even now, the fact that he’s able to get you riled up in ways you never thought possible is making your head spin.

“Please,” you nod. The minute he hears the okay his lips are back on yours and his fingers are on your heat. You gasp at the feeling of his hand over top of the thin material of your thong. His middle and ring finger add light pressure onto the damp spot off the fabric, making your thighs clench once again.

“Fucking soaked,” he breathes into your lips, circling his fingers around your clit in planned motions. Even through your panties the effect he has on you is indescribable and completely out of character.

His hands eagerly yank the panties down your legs until it's puddled by your ankles carelessly. Youre sat completely exposed in front of him, giving him free range of your body.

He doesnt touch you for a few moments, indulging in the kiss and nothing else. You start to squirm with anticipation, holding back from begging for his touch so that you dont over boost his ego.

He looks at you with desperation, incredibly lucky to have you all to himself.

“Are you gonna touch me or cream your pants by the sight of me,” you bark at him quietly, your cunt pulsing uncomfortably.

“Jus’ deciding where to start,” he says while glaring at your exposed lower half, a flash of hunger glistening on his brown eyes.

He begins to drop to his knees slowly in front of you, your eyes widening in pleasant surprise. He holds eye contact with you the whole time, causing a flushed shade of pink to paint across your cheeks.

“Open,” he cocks his head to your knees, asking you to spread your thighs open for him and give him everything. You're hesitant to do so, and so you remain stubborn and keep your goods covered.

“Such an attitude until something actually happens,” he tuts as he does the job for you, taking your knees in his hands and prying open your legs until his head sits in between them.

He looks so pretty like this, strong cheekbones shoved between your thighs in nothing but a pair of loose gray sweats. He licks his bottom lip once he gets the sight of the meal in front of him, and you smirk at his reaction.

Suddenly, you feel his tongue press flat upon you, and you gasp at the unexpected feeling. The slight upward turn of his lips once he hears your reaction makes you furious, but theres nothing in you that wants to make him stop.

His tongue rides up your slit until it reaches the throbbing bud at the top, wanting nothing more than to be touched. Peter's mouth swells at the taste of you, your sweet juices dripping on his tongue in the best way possible.

Your thighs clench around his head the moment he sucks on your clit, along with your fingers tangling in his messy hair. Your hand guides his head unconsciously as his tongue toys with your most sensitive area, careless moans slipping through your lips in rhythm.

“Fuck, Peter,” you spit out as he hums against you, the noise sending a vibration through your tense legs. His lips have been on you for a few seconds and you can already feel your toes curling behind his back in pure pleasure.

His tongue slides down to your opening, pushing itself inside of you and thrusting in and out of you. The way you feel around his tongue is nothing but euphoric to him.

Your back arches inward as he finds your most sensitive spots, exploring more of your body in a few minutes than most men do in month-long relationships. His hands grasp your hips as he brings his attention back to your clit.

Silk sounding moans echo around the empty classroom as he tires his tongue out to make you feel good. You watch as his arms flex every once in a while when he hears you breath falter and your words stumble over each other.

“Im-” your words are interrupted by a wave of pleasure, causing your mouth to fall open and his mouth to pick up the pace. Youre dangerously close dangerously fast, and he knows it.

“Youre what? You gonna cum for me?” he mutters against you, his hot breath making your legs twitch around his head.

You nod frantically, forcing out struggled words as you near your peak. Just as youre about to take the final step before finishing, his tongue pulls back from your whimpering cunt, leaving you high and dry.

You stare at him with a face full of rage, in shock over his cruelness even when he has you at his most vulnerable state. You keep eye contact with him as you bring your own hand down to your clit. If wont finish you off, you will yourself. And get yourself there quicker than he ever could.

He grabs your wrist before you can even make contact with yourself, causing your teeth to grit and your jaw to tighten.

“You can't cum yet,” he coos, and you force yourself to hold back an eye roll.

“I could if you would let go of me,” you try to wiggle yourself out of his grip, but it's too strong for you to get anywhere close to being free.

You let your eyes fall down to the shadowed bulge in his sweats, tilting your head at him with a grin on your face.

“Eager, bug boy?” you whisper to him, trying to ignore the agonizing feeling below you.

“Shut the fuck up,” he retaliates, satisfying your desire to get him as mad as possible. His hands tug on his sweats until you can see his boxers, leaving only a few seconds before his hard erection hits his lower abdomen. You swallow hard at the sight of it, not expecting such an insufferable person to carry something more than sufferable.

His thumb rubs the precum on his tip in slow circles, and now reality sets in. Peter Parker’s gonna fuck you on this lab table and you dont wanna do anything to stop it.

“Dont go nervous on me now, ladybug,” he pulls out the last nickname in an attempt to mock your own for him, but it somehow feels endearing to hear. You dont show that though, keeping on your unamused face as you wait for him to let you cum for christ's sake.

You say nothing, only sitting there looking breathtakingly beautiful waiting for him. Youre half fucked already, a flustered shade of ruby red on your cheeks and your lips swollen from his own. You test him with your silence, waiting for him to take the hint and stop the throbbing on your clit.

He steps closer to you, your body still on the edge of the table as he stands between your legs. You feel his hard cock graze over your entrance as he moves, and the feeling forces you to hold back a gasp.

He runs his tip up and down your folds teasingly, only making your squirming get worse. Eventually, hes lined up with you and pushing the head of his dick in painfully slow. Your jaw drops open at the way he fills you up, hitting every inch of you. You feel his veins rub against your pulsing walls, and you feel right back at the place you were a few moments ago in no time.

“Wait,” you put your hand on his chest, and he stops immediately with a softened look on his face. “Im not on the pill.”

He laughs at your words, making your brows crease in confusion.

“I cant get you pregnant darling,” he shakes his head as he speaks to you lowly, and you just nod along. Its probably something to do with the spider thing, but you dont have the energy for asking him right now.

He starts moving again, slowly filling all of you up and rolling his head back the deeper he pushes in. His adams apple peaks through, moving up and down as he swallows hard at the feeling.

“You feel so good,” he breathes out, and his words make your walls clench around him.

“Stop talking and fuck me please,” you blurt out in impatience. Youve been on edge for what feels like forever, and his dick lingering around inside of you isnt what you need right now.

You notice his veins stand out at your words, obviously triggering something in him. His hips are suddenly slamming into your own at a scarily fast pace, a pace youve never gone to before. His cock pounds ruthlessly into your sweet spot every single time, the room echoing with the sound of your slapping skin and strangled moans from your throat.

You feel his blood run through the veins of his cock as he fucks you, sending wave after wave of pleasure. You can feel tears begin to brim in your eyes at the feeling, so overwhelmed with euphoria that youre not sure you ever wanna leave.

His throat grumbles out low groans as he fucks into your sopping wet cunt, harmonizing with your own effortlessly.

“Peter Im gonna c-” his hand slaps over your mouth before you can even finish your sentence.

“Stop fucking talking for two seconds,” his voice comes out lower than usual, a small rasp in it as his thrusts become sloppier. His hips run into your own a small number of times before his hand is released off of your mouth, giving you the okay to cum so he can follow suit.

Your body pulses around him as you finally reach your orgasm, hands crumpling papers underneath you that youre sure youll need for a future class. Your legs shake around him as your back arches, the smooth sound of your final moan sounding like music to Peter's ears.

Yet its nothing compared to the way his moans sound to you. His pornagraphic groan as he cums inside of you is straight ear candy. You swear you could cum again just from the sound of it.

You cock is still inside of you as you sit on top of the table lifelessly, so beyond words exhausted and so beyond late for your next class.

“Come to my dorm, theres nothing to clean you up with here,” he suggests, lifting your loose hair off from your neck to cool you down.

“I hate you so fucking much,” you say with your eyes shut and your throat dry.

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, followed by a nod from Peter and a, “Me too.”

submission box ↠ here

[petrparkrslut]

spider-woman

(AU) peter finds out your secret identity, and enjoys it a little more than you would’ve thought. 

pairings: non-hero!peterparker x hero!reader. BOTH OVER 18

w: kissing, thigh riding, praise, hand job, oral (male recieiving), nicknames, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, overstimulation, half edited work, straight filth 

wc: 4.5k

18+, NSFW.

You release the grasp on your foot, standing on both feet and shaking out the rest of the eye gouging feeling. Your spandex covered wrist aims to the nearest brick structure, shooting out your perfectly formulated webs in an instant. 

You’re back and swinging in the air immediately, the New York breeze flooding through the small holes of your suit effortlessly. You've made this exact route numerous times, swinging and flipping through red brick buildings at every corner. 

You can see your glowing room from a short distance away, and you dont think youve ever been happier to be home. As soon as you can rest your heel the better. You curse at yourself for forgetting to turn off your light, knowing just how much your older sister hates it. 

You stick to your window just as you do every night, slowly sliding open the glass and pulling yourself through the white curtains that hang on the inside. You close the window just as softly, letting out a sigh of relief once you're finally inside the comfort of your own bedroom. 

Your padded feet step further into your room, eyes squinted shut as you crack your neck. Your hair runs freely as you tug off your mask, draping over the embroidered webs that scatter routinely across the suit. 

“I’m home, Lex!” you call to your sister while rubbing your head to try and release some of the built up pressure from having your hair suctioned to inside your suit all day. Its like having your hair up in a high ponytail every day of your life. 

Youre incredibly grateful for Lexi. Shes a good ten years older than you, and after your parents bailed on you at the ripe age of 8, shes been considered your legal guardian. Without her, youd be no where.

You turn and face your bed, freezing in your footsteps as your blood runs cold. 

Peter stares at you as he sits innocently on your mattress, mouth slightly parted and eyes blinking slowly. You drop your mask in your hands, letting it fall to the floor as you hold your breath. His eyes follow down to wear your mask hit the floor, and then back up at his suited up girlfriend in shock.

“Are you- Spiderwoman?” he points to you as he speaks at a nearly inaudible level, not believing the words coming out of his own mouth.

“No! No no no, I’m um, I’m in a play,” you give him a nervous laugh, picking your mask up from the floor and tossing it into your closet hastily. 

“You? Youre in a play?” his lips turn upward into a cheeky smile, and you cant help but smile at his tanned face. His hair is ruffled as it usually is, styled by nothing but the wind of the city. 

“Ok but you cant tell anyone Peter im serious, its bad enough that you know. You cant let anyone know that you know, okay? You have to promise me that,” you ramble quickly, hating that he knows because of the danger hes put into. Although, selfishly, a sense of relief washes through your body like a medicine you never knew you needed. Him knowing is a breath of fresh air. Not having to lie to him every day is three tons lifted off of your shoulders. 

“So you are? Youre actually spiderwoman?” he looks confused, almost as if he didnt expect it to be true. His eyes frantically roam up and down your body, trying to prove to himself that it has actually been his girlfriend behind the mask all this time. 

As his eyes scan your figure up and down, he finds his cheeks growing hot, noticing how absolutely delicious you look in that suit. The way the red contrasts with your eyes so perfectly, or how that spandex hugs your curves so tight. The outline of your firm breasts and your strong thighs make Peter's throat run dry.

“Peter?” you snap his attention, making him lift his head back up to look into your eyes instead of your silhouette. 

“Hm?” he hums cluelessly, the look on his eyes holding the power to make you drop to your knees at the sight of him. That is, if Peter doesnt beat you to it. 

“I was talking,” you smile, giving him a confused look at his ignorance towards your words earlier. 

“Oh, im sorry. Go on, im listening,” he shakes his head twice, trying to get back in the appropriate mind set so he could take in what youre saying.

But that suit. Your hair lying on the fabric so flawlessly. His hands running up and down your enhanced curves, grasping that hair and fucking you as hard as he can. The things he would do to rip every thread of that suit until you're forced to sit bare and vulnerable in front of him, completely at his mercy. 

You come and sit next to him on the bed as you continue explaining everything to Peter, rambling on and on but not knowing he wasnt listening to a single word you were saying. Your thighs spread out after coming in contact with the mattress below you, leaving Peter a desperate mess in front of you. 

The dark shadow under your breasts is straight eye candy, and he wonders how that chest would look with his cum dripping down it, he wonders if its bare underneath. His eyes follow the slim of your waist slowly, wanting to squeeze your covered sides until you're begging for him to finally take the suit off. 

His brown eyes glaze over your pink lips, watching them move as you talk so passionately. Your tongue slips through a number of times, the sight making him pulse under the confines of his blue jeans. 

Suddenly, his lips crash into yours, cutting off your words with hunger. You inhale quickly at the sudden contact, still kissing him back nonetheless.

“Peter!” you start, before being shut up by the mint taste of his tongue on your lips. 

“Shut up,” he whispers lowly as his hand reaches up to cup just underneath your ear. Your lower stomach raves at the words, a sudden heat rising in your body.

Peters hands finally roam all around your suited body, groaning into your lips at the touch. It was better than he couldve ever expected.. It was a feeling he didnt know he could grow so addicted to so quickly.

He pushes your stomach, forcing you to lay your back over your pink and white comforter. The soft colors adding innocence to the sins above. His body hovers over yours as his arms rest near your head. You catch sight of the veins running down his skin, feeling your core squirm at the sight of it. 

“Dont know if i can ever forgive you,” he whispers, kissing down your neck, “keeping such a wonderful secret from me.” he swirls his tongue and sucks hard at every spot he could possibly find, his only goal to litter you with his marks until theres no more room. 

Your back arches up from the mattress, stomach colliding with his in pleasure. Peter knows he can't fulfill every one of his fantasies of you in this suit tonight, but god, youre not making it easy. 

His teeth tug back on your skin, returning to your lips to feel your magic tongue once more. His lips devour you with so much passion and need, hands grasping any inch of your body in reach. His large hand lays flat on your stomach, slowly inching further and further down until his palm is just above where you need it most. 

His palm presses softly onto the area, making you squirm in impatience. Your face wearing the expression that he just loves to see you in so much. Hes convinced nothing is better than teasing you.

You cant wait any longer, taking control of the situation yourself by flipping you over so that youre on top. Peters tip throbs underneath your straddle as he takes in the sight in front of him, holding himself back from fucking just like this; your tits in his face and his hands on your perfect hips. 

Your lips find his again just as soon as they left, not giving Peter a second to breathe.

“Why were you in my room, Pete?” you mumble against his swollen lips, pressing your forehead to his as you speak before reconnecting your lips again. 

“Lex let me in,” he spits out quickly, not having any space in his racing mind for chatting. All he knows is the way you sit so perfectly perched on top of him makes him weak. He's not sure if he’d rather have you naked on top of him or if he prefers you just like this, covered head to toe in thin spandex with your hair riled so flawlessly. 

You bring your gloved fingers down to the button of his jeans, popping it open with one hand quickly and unzipping it at the same time. He lets out a quiet groan at the slight relief, desperate to feel you ache around him like you always do. No matter how much of a hero people say you are, youll always be putty around him.

As Peter goes to help shimmy his pants off, you beat him to it, shooting a web to the top of the jeans and pulling them off of you without looking. Your lips stay with his the whole time, too indulged to detach.

Your hips start to mindlessly grind against his bare thigh, his boxers riding further up his thigh the more you roll onto him. His hands grasp your sides needily, never knowing when to stop. He never wanted to stop, if he could keep himself in this moment of time for the rest of his life, he would. 

You hips start rolling against his strong thighs quicker, sudden pleasure rushing through your veins with no sign of stopping soon. Your lips break from the kiss, entirely focusing on the newfound pleasure beneath you. Youre a puddle in your suit,legs clenching around his thigh as you grind into him helplessly.

“That feel good? Fucking my thigh?” he whispers to you, spurring you on as he watches what hes only dreamed of before. You nod frantically, not being able to push any words out over top of your moans and breaths. Your head rolls back as you ride him quicker, legs shaking at the way his muscled thighs feel against you.

He shoves his lips into the new space you made for him, kissing up and down your neck once again. The two sensations blend perfectly with each other, strangling your words as you try to speak.

Your hands reach behind his head, tugging at his brunette hair harshly. He groans into your neck at the feeling, craving the power you hold over him. 

“Doing so good for me,” he lays sloppy kisses to your jawline, “Always my good girl.”

His words pulse through your veins like firecrackers that never stop going off, sending electricity to every vein in your body. 

“Im gonna,” you you barely push out, being interrupted by a loud moan, “Fuck Im-” your body loses it, its only focus the heat under your waist. He begins bouncing his thigh underneath you, and you can feel the flex of his muscles with every movement.

“C'mon pretty girl, you gonna cum all over that suit for me?” your hands tug harder at his hair than they ever have before, back arching into him as you hit what feels like an earth shattering orgasm. 

He sucks on your jawline as you ride out the feeling for as long as possible, slowing down as you start to feel more sensitive. Your suit is covered in your juices, soaking through the thin material and dampening Peter's thigh.

Hot breaths fill the air around you as you come down from your orgasm with a smile. You lean into his lips lazily, pulling at his bottom lip seductively. Lucky for him, its rare to ever get you completely exhausted. Your hand trails down his stomach until it reaches his swollen cock, earning a low moan from him at the contact. You can feel how bad he needs you, how bad hes been waiting to feel your pretty lips around him since the moment he saw you in that suit. 

You slide off of his legs and onto the floor in front of him, giving him an innocent glance as you sit on your knees. You radiate pure sex, every inch of you always looking inviting. His body shimmies towards the end of the bed, sitting at the edge in front of your hungry face. You love the taste of his needy cock, the way it twitches on your tongue like untouched territory every time you take him. 

“You look so pretty like that,” he admires you as he brings a hand down to grasp your hair, “on your knees for me.”

You hum, fingertips reaching for the waistband of your boxers delicately. He watches as your gloved fingers tug on the material, looking flawlessly feminine as you continue to completely expose his lower half.

He lifts his shirt over his head at the same time, suddenly feeling too hot at the sight of his girlfriend on her knees for him. You dont think youve ever been fully clothed for this long, but god, he thinks this sight is just as good to your bare body. The power it gives you, the way it makes him fold to your feet. 

He sits completely naked in front of you, his toned chest making your mouth water. Your nipples go hard as you look at him, never having seen him so submissive before. He’ll do anything you want him to do when he sees you in that suit, and you know it.

Your teeth bite down on the tip of your gloved middle finger, sliding it off in slow movement. He watches you carefully, completely enthralled in the way you move. The skin of your hand makes an appearance, and its angelic look holds Peter in a chokehold. 

You spit onto your hand, holding eye contact with Peter the entire time. You can tell hes getting nervous under your scare, and you love it. You love seeing him a mess for you. Watching him break down his walls and become completely enticed in you is better than anything you've ever accomplished. 

You grab his length with your wet hand, noticing his thighs flexing at the needed contact. Your hand pumps him slowly, thumb pressing into the side of his tip teasingly. Heavy breaths run through your ear drums, the noise alone enough to send you into another orgasm.

“Y/n, please,” his eyes squint shut as your hand moves quicker, and you cock your head innocently. 

“What, Peter?” your angelic voice sends shivers down his spine. 

“I need it, so bad,” his voice pushes out lower than usual, antsy breaths forcing their way in between his words. You smile at his state, seeing him fall apart in front of you after being touched for only a few seconds.

“You need what? Use your words,” you spur him on, moving along him faster as you thumb works at his tip. His head rolls back at the new speed, mouth open as his adams apple peels through. His jaw clenches, being too overwhelmed to spit it out.

“Your- fuck, mouth, please baby, so badly,” he whimpers to you blindly as a grin creeps upon your face. 

“Good boy,” you whisper softly, nearly inaudible as your lips now hover over his reddening tip. You spit over his slit, watching his hand grasp the bed sheets at the feeling. Your pink tongue runs up every inch of him, stopping once it reaches your thumbs spot. 

You kiss the top gently before wrapping your lips around only the tip. Your eyes glance up to his body, his abs flexing at the feeling he's been waiting for forever.  You press your tongue flat against the most sensitive part, being rewarded by groans coming from above you. 

His cock throbs under the feeling of that tongue of yours, desiring it more than anything in the world. You take in more of him, pushing yourself farther down until his tip hits the back of your throat. You easily refrain from gagging, not ever having a problem with it. Youre not sure if its genetics or just something to do with your spiderbite, but either way, Peter cant get enough of it.

He lets out a loud moan at the depth, not afraid to be loud. His strong hands get a tight grip on your messy hair, holding your loose strands back. His fingernails dig into your scalp, causing a moan to slip through your throat and onto his dick. The beautiful noise sends vibrations into him, and now he cant hold back.

The sounds of sweet moans and desperate breaths tant the space around you. His mouth is open and gasping for air as he forces his eyes to stay open and look at the view in front of him. His woman kneeling before him in such a dating yet naive nature, taking him in no matter how deep he goes. Your suit hugs your figure so gracefully as you sit, hips enlarging as you sit. He stares at your breasts, noticing the hard bud that peeks through the skin tight fabric.

“So close,” he manages to fumble out, staring at you bobbing your head against him. The sweetest eye candy he's ever tasted. 

You go even quicker, never getting tired for him. He loses it as you hum against his dip, cock so deep in your throat hes shocked youre still breathing for him. You pull his dick out of your mouth as you feel him seconds away from finishing. Your hand slides up and down him quickly as his tip aims for your chest, and a gleam of excitement goes through his brown eyes.

A loud moan erupts from deep in his chest, muscles flexing as he releases all over your chest. He peers down at you with heavy breathing, still convinced all of this is some dream. His cum drips down your suit, covering the tiny black spider and slipping down the shape of your breasts slowly.

“Shit,” he breathes out, lying down on his back over top of your sheets. His defined chest heaves up and down slowly, catching his breath. 

After a few moments had passed and he still didn't feel you lay next to him, he sat up, holding himself up on his forearms. His eyes widen as they land on you, standing up straight in the center of your bedroom. He watches closely as you slip off the spandex suit slowly, exposing your chest first before removing it completely. His lips part at the sight of your naked body, and suddenly his dick is already begging for more of you.

Peter sits on the edge of your bed, hot and bothered, as you undress. A thin layer of sweat glistens on top of your skin. You look absolutely delicious standing there, moonlight bouncing off your pretty breasts as your hair drapes over the surface of them.

“Please let me fuck you, angel,” he begs softly atop your sheets, staring at you. He’s utterly dazed as his eyes run across every inch of you, not knowing where to settle. Your eyes glance down at his already hard cock, his tip growing red once again.

“You cant finish,” you say to him as you walk over, straddling his naked body with your own. The skin to skin contact makes your heart jump, needing to feel him inside of you.

“Yeah, yeah I can. You remember? Sex ed senior year? I can finish twice, it's just that on my second time nothing will actually, you know, relea-” you shut him up with a kiss, smiling into his lips. Fucking nerd.

He kisses you back quickly, his hard dick rubbing against your clit as you push him back onto the bed. Your breasts brush against his bare chest as his hands pull at the skin on your waist. 

He cups one of your breasts in his hand, toying with it and pinching the nipple and a small moan slips out of your lips. He disconnects his lips from yours and replaces your lips with your tit, sucking on it as his hand works with the other. Your head lolls back at the feeling, you body feeling so free after being trapped in that suit for what felt like forever. 

His tongue circles around your hard nipple before nagging on it with his teeth using the perfect amount of pressure that makes your head spin. 

“Need to feel you,” he groans into your hot skin, too impatient for any more games. You need him inside of you just as bad as he needs you around him. 

He backs up from your chest kissing you one quick time before you sit up and grab his cock in your hand. You line his throbbing length up to your entrance, running it along your slits in a teasing motion before pushing his tip in. You dont go any further at first, loving the way Peter squirms beneath you in desperation.

You lower yourself fully now, his cock buried deep inside of you as you wrap tight around him. Your hips grind slowly on top of him, both of you knowing you wont last long after already experiencing orgasms a few moments prior. 

“Faster,” he says as his hands grasp onto your waist, attempting to help you move. Yet being on top of him is light work for a woman with strengths like you.

“Hm?” you question, and he knows how much you hate him being vague. He lets out a loud moan as you continue grinding your hips as you straddle him, his cock hitting your favorite spot everytime.

“Faster, please fuck me faster,” he pleas out, holding the slim of your waist tightly. 

At the mercy of his words, you bounce on top of him quickly, your tits moving up and down on your chest, making Peters mouth water. You look like pure sex on top of him, as if riding him was what you were born to do.

You radiate sublime erotica as you sit perfectly perched atop him. The shape of your breasts curving your body along with the sound of you and Peters slapping skin is enough to make his brain go haywire. 

His dick pins into you harshly with every move, slamming into your sweet spot that he's mapped out for months. He knows your body like he knows the back of his hand, using it to his advantage every time he gets the pleasure of your bare skin in front of him. He loves watching you squirm as he pushes your limits, making you find out things about yourself that you never thought you would.

A small noise of ecstasy slips through those sacred lips of yours with every hit, and suddenly, youre becoming weak under his touch. Your body starts to lose its perfect rhythm, staggering breaths taking over your strength. Peters hands grasp onto your hips more firm than they were before, taking matters into his own hands as he lifts you upwards and begins pounding into you at the same speed that you were. 

His waist bucks into your skin aggressively, harsh noises echoing around the room as you both tear apart your vocal cords with pleasure. 

“Ah- gonna cum Peter,” you slur out, head spinning as your clit rubs against his skin with every movement. 

“Let it out for me, angel,” your legs shake at his words and your thighs clutch together as your orgasm rips through you. Your head is hung back loosely, showing your marked up neck from earlier. He slows down his thrusts as he hits his orgasm too, eyes squeezing shut with furrowed brows as his chest releases a low groan at the feeling. 

He quickly flips you over so youre on the bottom, your tits shaking in front of him at every little movement. Youre still catching your breath from your high as he pulls out, the sudden emptiness not lasting for long before his fingers shove inside of you.

Your mouth falls open in shock, not expecting to feel his irresistible finger curl inside of you seconds after fucking you senseless. The two digits curl against the spot he knows all too well, making your back arch upwards and your toes curl behind him. 

His thumb begins to rub circles on your clit, leaving you absolutely speechless as his fingers work you to a third ograsm. Your nerves are overstimulated with the perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, and you feel yourself close to your third of the night within a short amount of seconds. 

“I-” you struggle to let any words out, body completely overwhelmed with the feeling of his veined fingers pumping inside of you quickly.

“Shhh,” he shushes you, working harder on your clit with his thumb. Hes never seen you like this; such a slutty mess underneath him. Your legs spread wide for him as he works for your high, watching you fall completely silent underneath his sinister touch. 

You finish loudly, your whole body freezing as a wave of pleasure floods through your bloodstream. Your eyes close as white flashes across your eyes, mouth hung open and hands gripping the sheets helplessly. 

His fingers stop moving inside of you, giving you the break that you both know your body needs. He pulls them out of you, drenched with you all over them. He brings his fingers up to your lips, gesturing for you to open up before shoving his fingers on your tongue and letting you clean yourself off his fingers with that pretty mouth of yours. He wears a grin while watching you, fascinated by everything you do. 

You lay on top of the bed lifeless, completely giving your soul over to him for the last handful of minutes. And you would give it to him over and over again if you could. 

“Stay here, I’ll clean you up,” he kisses your forehead, putting on his boxers before going to grab a towel. You nod with a smile, and you swear you could fall asleep right then and there.

submission box ↠ here

[petrparkrslut]

secrets

summary: you and peter are still in your honeymoon phase, and can’t get enough of eachother. although, having to keep it a secret from your dad and the rest of the avengers makes that nearly impossible. 

requests always open

pairings: peter parker x stark!reader

w: some fluff

wc: 3.2k

Three taps on your window snap you out of your trance. You smile immediately at the familiar silhouette outside the glass, and run over to let him in. It's become a routine over the past few months for Peter to sneak into your room after leaving your house not long before. He’s in your home an awful lot, but not with you. Usually, when hes here during the day, hes training with the other avengers or your dad. Night time is when you two can finally be alone. 

“Hi,” you flash a wide smile towards the red and blue figure in front of you. It doesnt surprise you to see him still in his suit, every night hes on city duty. He pulled his last limb through the tight space before you quietly shut it, now completely alone with him inside the comfort of your dimly lit bedroom.

He tugs his mask off of his face, his brunette hair bouncing in friction once it’s off. “Hi,” he plants a wet kiss on your cheek and tosses his mask to the side. Your bed creaks as he flops on it, obviously exhausted.

“Long night?” you lay down next to him, running your fingers down his defined arms delicately.

He turns his face to look at you, taking in the beauty of the woman he has in front of him. His head shakes with tired eyes, “no, just missed you a lot.”

Your cheeks flush pink with a smile, looking back and forth between his brown eyes. You can never put into words how lucky you are to have him, and he cant do the same for you either. He can list at least ten people from his classes that would kill to be with y/n Stark, but hes gotten lucky enough to be laying on your bed. 

When hes with you, he doesnt see you as the public figure you are. You have that quality of making everything disappear when hes with you, and its a feeling utterly addicted to.

“Are you coming to the meeting tomorrow?” you ask him softly. Tomorrow morning the avengers are getting together for one of their monthly rounds. You’re not completely sure why they really need it considering they’re always plotting every day, but you've learned not to question it. You can’t remember the last time you walked down the stairs and didn’t see every avenger in your kitchen.

“Will you be there?” he questions with a hopeful glance.

“You know i can’t be in there, but i’ll be around the house,” you smile at him. Anyone could tell that Peter isn’t a huge fan of these meetings, and it kills you to see him so nervous. You get it, being a teenager in a room full of the world's greatest heroes can be overwhelming. You just wish he would realize he falls under that category too, and he's not just some intern who's trying to score a couple extra bucks for party supplies.

“Then I'll be there,” he nods, “you look beautiful.” His words surprise you, and suddenly you’re greeted with that fluttering feeling in your chest.

“Shut up,” you lean into him and meet his lips, his own intertwining with yours delicately. You take your time with the tired boy to your side, slowly pressing yourself closer into the warmth of his body.

Your tongues dance with one another, nothing but the quiet sounds of your breaths echoing around the room. His hand holds your side softly, the webbing on his suit causing more friction than usual. Even so, you’ve never felt anything as beautiful as his touch.

Seconds after you started, you stopped. The familiar sound of footsteps echo down the hall that leads to your door. Every day you're more and more grateful that you're fortunate enough to have high ceilings and wide walkways to echo off noise, because without it, you and Peter wouldbe been done for a long time ago. Peter opened his mouth to ask if everything was okay before being shushed by your finger. You listen intently, heart beating out of your chest. Shit.

“My dad,” you whisper urgently.

“What?” his eyes widened, not really having much of a plan. Usually when this happens, you have an easy excuse or a great hiding spot for when he walks through your door. But when Peter crawled through your window tonight looking more tired than ever, you didn't want to bombard the man with which excuse youre gonna use just in case you get caught. Your dad’s footsteps are a few small feet from your door, and you’re still tangled within each other on your bed.

“Shit,” you stand up from your bed, fixing your smeared lip gloss and straightening out your clothes. Peter stands up next to your bed, a panicked look on his face as he hears your dad knock on the door. At this point, youve accepted your fate.

You give him a blank face, not knowing how to get out of this one. He has no time to go anywhere.

“Yeah?” I answered the knock on my door, looking frantically for a spot he could hide.

“It's me, I'm coming in,” the doorknob starts to turn and Peter quickly shoots a web to your closet door. He slams it open in a hurry, slinging himself inside and shutting it just as fast. 

You hide a smile at the last minute decision, and Peter thanks himself for keeping on his suit so he had his webs on him. 

Your dad closes the door behind him, walking further into your large room and leaning on the wall. You take a seat on the edge of your bed, waiting for him to start talking.

“For tomorrow's meeting, I just need you to do a favor for me. Im expecting this one to be a long one, considering the recent events involving the multiverse and such,” you can practically hear Peters internal groaning inside the closet from your dad’s words, “so how would you feel about cooking for everyone? You dont have to, but i know you love it and im sure everyone would appreciate it.”

“Sure! Yeah of course I will. Im happy to,” you smile at him, relieved this wasn't about something more serious. 

“Thank you sweetheart. Alright, im gonna head to my room for the night. If you need anything ill be up.. Just try and get to bed at a-” he pauses, eyebrows furrowing as his finger points to your desk chair. “Is that Peter’s mask?” 

You freeze, looking at your desk chair and seeing just that. Peters mask hung over the top of your chair carelessly.

“Oh, yeah it is. He left it in the training room this morning so i figured i’d wash it for him before tomorrow. I was actually just about to soak it in my sink before you came in,” you spit out, hoping that peter was even in the training room this morning. 

He looks at you for a second, and you could tell he doesnt completely believe you. You catch his eyes doing a quick scan of the room, running over the roof as well to make sure theres not a 17 year old boy stuck to the top of it. He nods, not asking any more questions and turning around to go to his room. 

“Love you,” he says before shutting your door, and allowing you to let out the biggest breath of relief you've ever taken.

You walk over to your closet, opening the doors and watching him drop from the ceiling above you. 

“Were you really gonna wash that for me?” he smiles, stepping out from your closet and taking a seat on your bed.

“It was a fake story peter, you didn't leave it in the training room you've been wearing it all night,” you lay on the bed next to him, looking at his tired eyes with nothing other than admiration.

“I think it still needs some cleaning,” he shoves himself back until his head hits your pillow. He quickly presses the spider on the front of his suit, releasing the seal on his suit as it becomes loose around him. Its slipped off carelessly and thrown onto the floor, him being too exhausted to properly store it away. 

He lays on your bed in nothing but a pair of plaid boxers, and brings your comforter up and over his body. You join him under the covers, snuggling up next to him and getting comfortable. Its moments like these where you really take in just how lucky you are to have him. 

You turn your body so that your back is pressed to his chest, curling into him like its what you were designed to do. His arm falls over your side, pulling you in even closer with a deep breath. His hand rests on top of your stomach, and you find yourself never wanting to wake up. 

                                               -

“Hows the breakfast coming y/n/n?” your dad calls out to you from inside the meeting room, and you roll your eyes at his constant asking.

You and Peter may have overslept, and you may definitely be behind schedule when it comes to the breakfast you promised you'd get made. Youre lucky you have so many of Peters clothes in your room, because he didnt even have enough time to go home and change this morning.

“Almost finished gimme 10!” you shout back, adding a side of jam to Peters plate because you know how much he loves it.

Once you both woke up, tangled within each other, you decided to be a little late. You both talked for over an hour, an hour that was supposed to be taken up with Peter going home and you making breakfast. He ended up changing in your room quickly before climbing back out your window and knocking on the front door as if he’d just gotten here. 

All of the avengers had made their way into the meeting room, chatting amongst themselves at the glass oval table. You could see Peter from your spot in the kitchen, thankful the walls are made of glass so you can watch your boyfriend fiddle nervously at the table of heroes. 

Around 15 plates sit on top of your large marble counter tops, and you take a step back to make sure everyone has a meal. Every plate is accompanied by a cup of black coffee, and you'll bring out the cream and sugar for everyone to adjust to their liking. 

Before you start bringing the plates in, you stare at Peter’s coffee mug, knowing exactly how he likes his coffee. You debate putting it together for him, but you already put the extra jam beside his food. You dont wanna seem obvious.

You ignore the idea to put together Peter’s coffee, grabbing a serving tray your dad had from when he hosted a party some time ago and beginning to place the meals on it. After fitting every plate with no room to spare, you bring it in to the meeting room, setting it down on the table quickly as it was way to heavy for you to be holding.

“Alright, Nat?” you start passing out the plates one by one. Considering some of them had to be customized because based on the person, each one had a label and was assigned to a specific person. It wasnt needed, but you figured maybe it took the attention off of Peters special plate. 

“Okoye this one's yours, and Peter,” you look up at him, smiling with your same dimpled smile that you gave everyone else. But when Peter looked back up at you with a small close mouthed smile, you had to hide the fact that your cheeks faded 30 shades redder. “This one's yours.”

“Thanks,” he takes the plate from your hands, setting it in front of him carefully. You could feel Wanda’s eyes from behind you, but you ignore them as you head back for the door. 

“I'll be back in with coffees,” you walk back into the kitchen, hearing thanks roam around the room and your dads voice as he starts the meeting.

As you stand in front of the line of black coffees, you feel like you need to make Peters. He would do it for you. Your eyes scan the transparent walls of the meeting room, making sure everyones focused on your dad's words and not looking at you. After you feel you're all clear, you quickly grab the cream and sugar, placing Peters mug in front of you.

You add a solid amount of both in the cup, knowing he likes it as sweet as can be. 

The mugs sit still on the same tray you used to bring in the breakfast, and you slowly pick it up and walk it over. If you drop this tray and all of them spill in front of the most important people in the world, you'll never forgive yourself.

Thankfully, you bring it into the room successfully and place it at the end of the table just as you did before. Not a single pair of eyes looked at you or even noticed your presence, too enticed in your Dad’s words. 

Your eyes drift over towards Peter, smiling to yourself as you watch him jot down notes with a concentrated look displayed on his face. The little crease between his brows and the clench of his jaw that you love to stare at so much. 

You bring your attention back towards the mugs, placing one in front of every member of the table easily. No one says anything as you give it to them, too enticed in the conversation to notice your gesture. 

You finally get to Peter, giving him his already made coffee as he continues to jot frantically on the notepad in front of him. He stops writing once its put in front of him, looking up at you with a small smile of appreciation. 

“Thank you,” he says to you, grabbing the attention of every person sitting at the table, including your dad. Just then he realizes maybe he wasn't supposed to thank you, considering no one else did, and mentally curses himself out.

You bite your lip to keep from smiling, but you know its failing miserably. “Youre welcome,” you grab the empty tray at the end of the table and walk out of the meeting room without saying another word. The room was still silent when you left, and you know Peter wants more than anything to sprint out of this room and just go to a foreign land with you and never come back.

“Uh, sorry Mr. Stark, you can keep going,” he mumbles quietly, clearing his throat before bringing his mug up to his lips in an attempt to cover his flushed face. You can see him sink further into his chair from the kitchen, laughing to yourself at how embarrassed he is.

He looks at him with a confused expression, not sure how to feel about the whole interaction.

“Alright,” he continued his presentation anyway, moving on from the situation with a quick shake of the head. Nat and Wanda look at eachother with a sly smirk, only making Peter turn more and more red by the second. 

                                                  -

After a long two hours, the meeting was finally let free. After thanking you dad Peter immediately made his way to the kitchen, knowing he would find you sitting at the countertop.

Right when he saw your silhouette sitting by the white marble, his body instantly lost tension. The way your hair sat half in front of your shoulder and half behind it,  and the way the backing of your necklace ran down the center of your neck so effortlessly made him weak in the knees. 

“Hey,” he sat in the chair next to you, grabbing your attention immediately. You smile, happy to see him so calm after being stressed in that room for so long. 

It wasnt abnormal to see you and Peter with eachother after meetings, none of the avengers really think anything of it. They all know youve been great friends for two years now. They just dont know that for a year of that great friendship you've been secretly dating. 

“Hey, how was the meeting,” you shift in your chair to look at him, your knees touching Peter’s as you both face each other on the high top chairs.

“Stressful, but good. I missed you,” his eyes look into yours with that puppy dog glance that you adore more than anything in the whole world.

“I missed you too,” you give him a smile, rubbing small circles into his knee with your thumb. 

“I should probably go home. I havent been home since yesterday and i dont wanna leave May alone for too long. I'll call you, yeah?” the two of you talk quiet enough for only eachother to hear, not wanting anyone to hear that he hasnt been home since yesterday. He stands up from his chair, you following close behind.

“Yeah,” you give him a reassuring smile, knowing how guilty he feels every time he leaves you.

“Ill see you later,” he gives you a peck on the cheek, you pecking his at the same time. You both freeze, forgetting youre not alone. 

“What was-” Nat starts, looking back and forth between you two as Peter backs up from you with a nervous smile, cutting off her words as he kisses her cheek too. You cover your mouth to hide your laugh, not expecting him to get out of that one this way. 

“Wanda,” he nods in her direction, giving her a peck on the cheek as well. “Carol,” he does the same to her, leaving everyone in the room confused as he makes his rounds. 

Your dad looks at him with a shocked face, confusion littering his features as Peter walks up to him. 

“A handshake will do, Peter,” he stops him before he can begin, and now you really have to try hard to hold in your laugh. 

“Oh yeah yeah of course, i was going for that anyway,” he laughs off nervously, and you know that if he was faced towards you he would be sending you daggers as you laughed.

“Ok uh, im gonna go, thanks Mr. Stark for the meeting, and um, y/n for the food. Ill see everyone tomorrow, maybe, if i can. You know, tight schedule, lots to do lots of homework,” he rambles on and on as he slowly walks out the door, shutting it behind him as quick as he could possibly manage.

Its now just you and the rest of the Avengers in the room, all of their eyes on you. 

“y/n what was that about,” your dad gestures towards the door that Peter just left through, looking at you with an unamused face. 

“Peter? I dont know, maybe the meeting just went really well,” you shrug, walking past the line of people and up to your room. 

You speedwalk down the hallway quickly, desperate to get to your phone. 

And, just as you’d anticipated,

36 texts from peter parker

5 missed calls from peter parker

submission box ↠ here

[petrparkrslut]

stay with me

maybe breaking up isn’t the right idea.

requests always open

pairings: tasm!peter x reader

warnings: sad.

wc: 2.2k

His feet stand frozen in your bedroom, mouth hung slightly ajar as he searches his brain for something to say. his hands feel numb, his legs like a jenga tower about to collapse. His eyes frantically run over your face. The face hes loved since the moment he met you. 

“Say something Peter, please,” you whisper.

Your beautiful eyes, the way they dilate when you see him. Your cheeks, and the rose tint that paints over them when he compliments you. Your perfect smile, always complimented by that jawline that he just loves to kiss so much. Your lips, the subtle shine thats always glossed over them. Not from a lip gloss or a lip balm, but from the mini vaseline container you bring with you everywhere because of how your lips chap in the winter. 

His breath falters as he takes in everything he loves about you for what he can only hope won't be the last time. Your words picked at his wounds, cutting off his vocal cords as he stood there helpless. The five words he hoped to never hear fall out of your angelic lips slipping out with hesitance. 

“I can't do this anymore, Peter.” 

He can't stop replaying it. The way you wouldnt look at him when you said it, the way his heart pulsed in a way it never has before. 

“I can't do this anymore, Peter.” 

He brings his eyes up to come in contact with your own after moments of silence. They move back and forth between your eyes helplessly as he tries to find the right words to say.

“I can't do this anymore, Peter.” 

His throat has gone dry, and his breathing picks up even quicker. This isn't a dream. He hasn't woken up yet. This is real. The love of his life is breaking up with him and he knows there's nothing he can say to change her mind.

Within the year and a half that you've dated, he’s figured out every part of you. He knows how stubborn you are, and he knows how well you hold your ground. It's always been one of his favorite things about you. Seeing your enemy always be speechless at your relentlessness, and loving every second of it. 

It was usually followed with an “atta girl,” and a quick peck on the cheek. Never has it ever been followed with a broken peter standing still as a board on the carpet of your bedroom. 

“Peter,” you look at him, “please.”

He nearly falls apart at the sound of your lushess voice. The way it falls out of your lips like silk and soothes his soul like hot tea. 

“What happened, y/n?” he shakes his head slowly, looking at you with eyes full of so much sadness you almost consider giving in and kissing him all over his smooth skin.

“I can't keep doing this. I can't keep falling more and more in love with you knowing that every night I risk losing you. I can't sleep until I hear your knock on the window. If I lost you, I don't think I'd ever recover,” you watch his expression stoop even lower at his words. Of course it's because of his job. The job that he fears will take you away every second.

“y/n,” he walks towards you, grabbing your hands with his own shaking ones. You can't look at him, and so you turn your head to the side as tears well in your eyes. 

“Look at me baby, please,” he pleas softly, desperate for just a little more of the love that he's gotten so addicted to. 

You turn and face him, the gleam in his wet eyes giving you a stabbing pain of guilt.

“You're losing me this way too. Let me love you while we have the time, let yourself be loved. Don't throw this away out of fear y/n please. I can't lose you like this, I need you,” his hands squeeze your own, and you force yourself not to melt under his eye contact. 

“I'd rather you be alive on your own than dead with me,” you shake your head.

“Don't say that,” his voice breaks, “you can't do this y/n, you just can't. I can’t live without you i-”

“Please don't say it Peter,” you cut him off. You don't have the emotional space to hear it right now. The three words you adore so much. Those three words that you’re worried will make you drop every wall you have up right now. 

“I love you,” he ignores your words, whispering his favorite phrase to say to you. He loves the way you get shy when he says them, or the way he earns a spontaneous kiss.

But not this time. His broken words are followed with nothing but painful silence. Your bottom lip quivers as you look at his own tear drenched face. No nervous blushing, no spontaneous kiss, only tension and unsureness.

It hurts you more than anything else to not be able to reciprocate the words back to him. The words he has to hear before falling asleep every night. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to be said. You love him more than you ever thought was possible, and because of that, ending things was harder than you ever could have imagined. 

“I'll stop being spiderman. I'll give it all up, ill donate the suit i'll throw out the web shooters if it means I can stay with you,” he starts throwing out irrationalities mindlessly, desperate for your love.

“I can't make you do that Peter, you love being spiderman.”

“But I love you more,” he counters your response quickly, face close to yours as he whispers into the cold air. 

You stare at his big brown eyes and his blushed lips, looking irresistible.  

“Your hair, your beautiful hair,” he twirls the end in his fingers, “this nose,” his lips gently kiss the tip of your nose with his eyes squeezed shut as if it's the last sliver of a taste he’ll ever get from you. 

“Your cheeks, your neck,” he trails kisses down your face and your neck, his lips soft against your hot skin. “These freckled shoulders, your beautiful arms,” his lips plant kisses on every inch of your body, leaving you with nothing to say as he falls to his knees in front of you. You start to whimper out tears as he falls apart, his actions ripping you apart and leaving you a broken mess.

“These hips, these thighs,” he never looks at your eyes once as he kneels in front of you, instead just continuing to kiss every part of you he possibly can. Every part of you that he loves so dearly, that he would do anything for. If a scratch ever harmed your flawless skin, he would do everything in his power to make sure it never happens again. 

He makes his way back up to your face, still kissing everything in sight. His kisses are filled with nothing but love and pain, and you can feel his salty tear drops run down your skin with the more kisses he leaves for you, 

“Your stomach, your perfect stomach,” he gives your stomach three kisses, remembering how many times he’s accidentally fallen asleep on it while studying with you. How many times he rested on it while laughing harder than he's ever laughed before with you.

“Your chest,” he stands up again, he lays gentle kisses around your collarbones, being more delicate with you than he's ever been. You're in quiet tears now, letting the poison tears slip down your face without anything you can do to stop it. 

His lips go up your neck once more until they reach the corner of your lips, stopping himself for a moment. He presses his forehead to yours, breaking into more tears. His arms suddenly wrap around your limp body, squeezing you with so much love pouring out of him you're worried he's gonna run out. But he knows he’ll never run out of room in his heart for you. Only you, it'll always only be you.

“These lips,” he forces his words out with tears streaming down both of your faces. “These beautiful, beautiful lips,” he releases his embrace around you, pressing his forehead against yours once more as your lips sit a dangerously close distance from his.

Peter doesn't think he's ever loved anything as much as he loves your lips. The way they curve upwards when you kiss him while laughing, or the way they fold so perfectly around his own. The way they always taste sweet, like the best fruit he's ever eaten and he can't ever get enough.

He presses his lips against yours slowly, relishing in the feeling. His stomach does backflips as you kiss him back, molding into his as if that's what theyve been made to do. 

You press yourself closer into him, never getting close enough. Peter freezes into the kiss, allowing a teardrop to fall onto your arm that was just recently covered with his lips. His lips stay pressed against yours in comfortable silence, and you stand together in the moon lit bedroom, you feel safe with him.

You crave his touch, and you crave his love for you even more. 

And just as soon as it starts, it stops. The lovely feeling in your stomach is replaced with a feeling of emptiness, and your body shifts back into reality. 

It's like when you're with him, you're taken into an alternate reality where nothing matters other than you and him. The way his lips feel on yours, the way he makes you feel, it's all hyper exaggerated in this make believe land of y/n and peter. It's an effect no one but him has had on you, the ability to take away all of your problems with just his presence. Your world with Peter is magical, but as much as you hate to admit it, that world you desire so desperately is unattainable in reality.

Your lips back away from his, shaking your head in a half-assed attempt to convince yourself to do what you know is the right thing. 

“Peter…” you whisper, your forehead still pressed against him as his hands rise up to cup your face. His thumbs rub soothing circles onto your head, bringing you back to that paradise world for just a moment.

“Don't say anything, please,” he coos, wanting nothing more than for you to open your eyes and think about this clearly. He can't live without you, and you can't live without him. 

“We have to-”

“Hey, hey,” he backs up, staring at his loves eyes that are filled with uncertainty. “Who's making this decision? You, or fear?”

You freeze at his question, knowing the answer but being too afraid to say it out loud. It scares you to be wrong, and you know that if you've thought that this plan was right, it has to be right. It can't be wrong, it can't. There has to be some rational reason for why you knew this would be the right idea. 

But you get so easily lost in his eyes, and part of you knew you would the moment he slipped through your window. The way he makes you feel is better than anyones ever made you feel. Every old partner, every celebrity crush who you were convinced you were madly in love with, nothing has ever made you feel the way you do around peter.

You used to be scared as a young teen that you would never love anyone the way you loved your celebrity crush. That he was too good to be true, and no one will ever be able to reach those standards. A small amount of years in the future and now you're scared you'll never be able to love again after Peter Parker. 

“What if it is fear making the decision peter? Does that make any difference? Does it make the fact that i can't lose you that way any less real?” 

“I would rather die loving you than die alone. Fear is a terrifying feeling, and I get that. Every day I get more and more scared of losing you because of my job. I would never be able to live with myself if that happened. So believe me, I get where you're coming from. But you can't let that fear break something that can distract you from it. I feel safe around you y/n,” he reasons with you desperately, refusing to leave this room until you've settled on some sort of agreement. 

You look at him, not knowing how to respond. It feels as if your world has collapsed as you take in the man in front of you, and you curse yourself for ever thinking you could leave him. You're a fool if you think you can survive without him. Imagining a life without him is like imagining a life without lungs.

Your walls break down as you start uncontrollably crying, sitting on the bed next to you and bringing your knees up to your face as you let it all out. You feel the mattress shift in weight as he sits next to you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace. You can feel his crying as well, the slight shake of his body moving against you. 

“Stay with me y/n, please.”

submission box ↠ here

[petrparkrslut]

hazy - tasm!peterparker

summary: your hookup with peter has been going well, until he realizes he’s slept with your roommate. this is entirely based off of that one scene in friends but i just had to rewrite it as peter.

requests always open

pairings: slut!peterparker x college!reader

warnings: making out, heavy grabbing, dry humping, implied oral sex, nsfw, that’s it rlly ?

wc: 1.6k

his legs walk you farther into your dorm room, legs wrapped around his waist. you could feel him through the thin material of your mini dress, and you were more than excited to see if the rumors were true.

peter was a playboy, and everyone on campus knew it. it’s not like he tried to be, he didn’t enjoy breaking girls hearts. on the other hand, it was hard for him to find a girl who was interested in him, and he would never settle for someone below his standards. if that meant sleeping with nearly every girl on campus until he gets lucky, so be it. how could he complain.

he has a good reputation too. who doesn’t wanna go for a ride with the most highly appreciated hook up on campus?

your lips are smashing into eachother desperately, feeling like your first kiss. your veins were coursing with adrenaline, and no matter how hard peter could try and hide it, you both know he’s feeling the same way.

he keeps walking until his knees hit the back of your bed, and lays you down on your back in front of him. you’re sprawled across your sheets, watching as he takes the woman beneath him in with heavy breathing. his doe eyes trail up your porcelain skin, admiring every curve and perfection you own. they watch your chest heap up and down, the thin strap of your tight black dress getting dangerously close to slipping off your shoulder. his eyes flash in hunger as he looks at you, before making his way down into your untouched neck.

“so beautiful,” pink lips melt into your skin, “always so beautiful.”

his body is hovered over your own, dug so far deep into your hot neck you’re worried he’ll never come out. the brown hair on his neck begins to tangle between your fingertips, tugging at anything you can as his teeth nip all over you.

“off,” you pull at the hem of his shirt. he comes out of his spot on your neck, looking back and forth between your eyes with excitement.

“what’re you waiting for pretty girl?” he whispers as he nuzzles back underneath your ear, “take it off.”

his quiet words send shivers down your spine, and you stop yourself from letting out a quiet moan at the words. you grab his shirt, slowly bringing it up and over his face. the clothing puts a stop to the marking on your neck as it passes in between you and his lips. the feeling quickly returns, your head rolling away from him to give him more access.

you need to see him, his body. as much as you love the attention he’s giving you, you have to take control at some point.

your legs, already wrapped around his waist, flip the two of you over in one quick movement. he’s left underneath you, his bare chest on display for you as you straddle his hips. he’s a mess beneath you, lips parted and puffy. his hair is perfectly imperfect, and you think he’s never looked better.

“so good for me,” you smile, watching him become enthralled by your every word. you have this man at the palm of your hands.

he opens his lips farther to speak, but you place a finger on the pink pillows to shut him up. he doesn’t argue with your move. if anything, he’s excited to see what’s gonna happen next.

“shhh,” you run your thumb across his bottom lip, “don’t talk.” you lower yourself into his lips, catching him in another deep kiss. he inhales at the contact, melting into you immediately. his hands grasp your hips as the kiss makes a heavy incline, already heating up within seconds.

your hips mindlessly grind on his waist, his low hanging pants leaving little material in between you and his cock. his hands squeeze your sides harder the more you rock on top of him, and he swears he could cum right there.

you kiss down his jaw and into his neck, your tongue lapsing around his gorgeous skin. you rub your clit against his throbbing dick at just the right angle, a quiet moan vibrating onto his neck.

your plump lips kiss right under his ear, hitting his sweet spot instantly. a struggled groan escapes his throat, the perfect noise making you yearn for more.

he tilts his head towards you as you bruise his neck, his lips right next to your hot ear. “you wanna get on your knees for me, princess?”

you smirk into his skin, tugging back on it with your teeth one last time before lifting your head up to look at him. you lean back into his lips, never getting enough of his taste.

“only if you know this is a two way street,” you give him the snarky reminder, his soft laugh ringing through your ear drums.

“always.”

you shimmy off his waist, standing near the end of the bed before dropping to your knees. the sight alone makes peter weak in the knees.

he sits up straight on your comforter, leaving you completely at his mercy in front of him.

his eyes take a quick scan of the room as you palm him through his pants. his brows furrow immediately, and he’s suddenly filled with a twisting feeling in his stomach. and not because of the angelic touches under him.

“hold on hold on hold on,” he shakes his head and gestures for you to stop, and you immediately obey.

“is something wrong?”

he looks at you long and hard, searching his memory left and right. he’s been in this dorm before. he’s seen these posters before. he’s already slept with you, he’s sure of it.

“nothing, nothing, sorry keep goin’,” he squints his eyes closed with a shake of the head, trying to focus on the pure good he’s got. he’d be a fool to waste a night with someone as wonderful as you.

just as you reach for his waist band, he stops you again. he looks completely distraught, as if he can’t believe what’s happening.

“peter, are you okay?” your forehead creases at the man in front of you, genuinely concerned for his well-being based on his reaction to you gently palming him through a pair of pants.

“how can you not remember we’ve slept together!” he pops the question at you, a panicked look in his eyes. fuck, why did he say that. he doesn’t even know if it’s true. but maybe, just maybe, if this sparks a memory in your mind he’ll know if you two really did sleep together already.

“what?” you glare at him, voice cold and bitter. is he really that much of a slut, that he doesn’t even remember when he hasn’t slept with someone yet? and to think this was going just perfectly.

he’s really panicked now, anyone with two eyes and a brain could figure that out.

“yes! we- we hooked up like five months ago! we had sex here, and here, and then one more time over there,” he recalls the memory like it was yesterday. he knows he fucked in this dorm.

“we did not have sex together, peter,” you shake your head, standing up from your position on the floor and peering down at him as he sits on your bed.

“jesus woman how many people do you gotta sleep with to not remember we fucked!” he throws his hands up in the air, and now you know he’s gone absolutely bat shit crazy.

just as you open your mouth to speak, your door opens, and in comes your roommate. a shirtless peter stares at her, mouth hung slightly open with a frozen face.

“hey, y/n, we gotta get my key fixed. i had to use jazzy’s spare,” her face is shoved in her phone, not realizing the man on your bed.

peter still stares at her dumbfounded, as if he’s trying to solve the worlds hardest math problem in his head. and even then, he could probably do that math problem a lot easier than whatever puzzle he’s solving in his head right now.

she finally looks up to lock eyes with the bare chested peter on your sheets, and her eyes narrow. “peter?”

he snaps his fingers in realization and points at her. “ohhhh! i had sex with you in this dorm!“ he gives himself a satisfied smile, over the moon happy that he solved his little problem.

“yeah, and then you never talked to me again,” she talks to him bitterly, and you watch in complete shock as he stays calm and collected the whole time.

“fuck, yeah, dropped my phone in the lake the day after we met. you know, shit happens,” he explains casually as he picks up his shirt on the ground.

he throws it over his head and straightens it out, looking at the both of you with a small smile. both you and your roommate glare at him, in shock over the entire interaction.

“alright!” he breaks the silence, “well, i’m gonna go. it was lovely meeting you y/n and i hope to see you again soon, truly i do,” he nods his head while speaking to her. and though it sounded like he was being sarcastic, he really did wanna finish where they left off with her.

“and you!” he forgot her name, “such a pleasure to reconnect, yeah?” he scratched the back of his neck while looking at us.

“i’ll let myself out.”

submission box ↠ here