#andrew garfield smut fic

[blooming-violets]

private #5 bent over a table while somethings baking in the oven. is it too much to ask for tasm peter parker bending reader over?

[location based smut prompts]

The To-Do List

[tasm peter x fem!reader]

(reader is described as having a ponytail that is long enough for Peter to wrap around his hand and use as leverage)

His birthday cake was nestled happily inside the heated oven. 

She got up early to make it for his special day. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail to keep out of her face while she had prepped and she was still in her pajamas from this morning. She had planned to have the cake in the oven, get her shower done, and place out his presents on the table all before he woke up. 

Peter, of course, had other ideas. 

He leaned against the kitchen doorway with a lopsided grin as he sleepily took in the sight of her. She paused when she saw him there, silent as ever, and crossed her arms. 

“You are not supposed to be awake for another hour,” she chastised. 

Thirty-five looked good on him. Every year he seemed to get more and more handsome. 

His eye wrinkles grew as his smile widened. A strand of dark hair fell down his forehead and he absentmindedly brushed it away. He was shirtless with nothing but a pair of dark boxers to keep him decent. 

She admired how defined his chest was. A hinting of his six pack was peeking out from just under the surface of his lean body. 

“I smelled cake.” His voice was thick and scratchy with lingering sleep. Peter’s morning voice was one the sexiest sounds she’d ever heard. 

She smiled as she rolled her eyes. It had hardly been in the oven for more than five minutes and it was already enough to get him out of bed. 

“The kitchen is a mess. I was going to clean it all up and have your presents out and I was going to be all dressed up and looking extra cute. You ruined it all with your stupid nose.” 

Peter laughed as he strode across the room to slip his arms around her waist. She looked up to admire him and wiped at a staining of toothpaste still clinging to the side of his lips. She caught it with her thumb and shoved it back into his mouth while he licked it off. 

“You already look extra cute,” he mumbled around her thumb. 

“I’m literally wearing your old, hole filled shirt and bright pink fluffy pants. This is not how I wanted you to see me this morning. It’s your birthday. I wanted it to be special.” She tugged her thumb back with a huff. 

Peter stepped back to appreciate her outfit in the morning light. She had already been in bed by the time he crawled through their window last night.

“I like it,” he stated. “It’s hipster.” 

She let out a laugh in response, “I don’t think you know what hipster means, babe.” 

Peter shrugged, “It means you dress like a bum, right?” 

“Oh my god, why don’t you go back to bed and try this again in an hour when everything is all set up, okay?” 

“No,” he whined. He latched himself onto her back, snaking his arms tightly around her stomach to press her against him. “I’m up. It’s my birthday. Say happy birthday to me and tell me you love me.” 

She grinned, snuggling back against his bare chest, “Happy birthday and I love you.” 

“That sounded insincere but I will take it.” His hand slipped up under her loose shirt to cup a warm hand over her breast, lazily palming it while he nibbled at the edge of her ear. He always liked the feeling of her nipple coming to life and growing harder against his hand. He held onto her chest like one might cling to the safety of a favorite stuffed animal. 

She groaned, “Your presents were supposed to be all set out nicely on the table. Instead you’re just greeted with a kitchen disaster of my cake baking. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep for another hour? I know you’re tired from last night. You were out late.” 

Peter began to slowly waddle them back and forth towards the kitchen table, refusing to release his grip from around her waist or remove his hand from her breast, “I know of a present I can unwrap right here…” 

She gasped under her breath, “Peter. This is no time. I’ve got a list of things to do.”

She felt him laugh quietly against her ear.

“Yeah and I’ve got a list of things to do, too. A whole list. Let’s see what the first thing to do is…” he pretended like he was reading off an imaginary piece of paper as he checked it over. “Ah, yes!” 

He slipped his hands out from her shirt and placed a gentle hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the kitchen table. With a quick swoop, he tugged down both her pants and underwear, leaving them hanging around her ankles. She let out a shocked cry.

“Unwrap presents…check!” He chuckled to himself, giving her bare ass a soft slap. “And what a beautiful present it is. Couldn’t have asked for anything better. Wow, you really know me, baby, I’m super impressed.” 

“Peter,” she whined, pushing herself back up. “Not fair. I haven’t showered. I’ve got to get ready. I’ve-”

He cut her off with a kiss. His lips crashed against her and his tongue forced its way into her mouth to stop her from trying to protest further. She could taste the mint from his toothpaste still clinging to his tongue and she moaned as he pressed his hips into hers. He was growing harder by the second. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled against her lips with a smile. “My birthday. My rules.” 

“Okay,” she said with a dreamy sigh. It wasn’t hard to convince her. Her complaints were more for show than anything else. If Peter wanted her, he had her. “I love you, Pete.” 

“If you love me so much then why don’t you take off that shirt so I can see my second present.”

She did as she was told, stripping it from her body, until she was standing naked before him. The bulge in his boxers twitched which made her smile. She loved the fact that she could make him so hard from sight alone. 

Peter’s hand reached out to brush a calloused thumb across her hardened nipple, “Beautiful.”

He lifted her up onto the table so she was sitting closer to him and he moved between her legs. They wrapped around him so she could feel the heat of him soaking through his boxers and against her pussy. His eyes traveled down to her chest, taking in the sight, and sighing happily. His head dipped down so he could capture the waiting bud between his wet lips. 

She let out a satisfied moan and ran her fingers through the back of his hair while suckled on her. His tongue bathed her breast, teeth nipping at her nipple, and soothing it over with quick kisses and light sucking motions. His mouth was magic. He didn’t even need to touch her pussy for her to already be soaking through his boxers as she ground against him. 

“Feel that?” He groaned, bucking his hips. “Feel how hard I am?” 

She whimpered.

“All for you,” he whispered, finding her lips once more to kiss her deeply. 

All for her. 

It was his birthday. She should probably be getting down on his knees for him and sucking him off or tending to him in some way but she was nothing but putty in his hands. Lost in the feeling of seduction he was casting over her. 

Peter dragged her down off the table, smirking at the wet spot she had left behind, and spun her around. He folded her back in half over the table, scraping his nails down the length of her spine and over the swell of her ass. 

“The next thing on my to-do list,” he breathed, his voice low and deep. “Is you.”

She heard him discarding his boxers and suddenly felt the wet, hot tip of cock slide up her open folds. She was more than ready for him. He never had to do much to have her begging for more. Her hips grinded against the air as if trying to draw him in closer but he only continued to tease her with the tip.

“Someone’s eager,” he commended, giving her ass another slap. 

“Peter, please,” she gasped. 

He kept up his tantalizing torture. Every time his cock bumped over her aching clit, her hips would jerk backwards, and she’d let out a quiet cry.

“Please what?” He asked with an air of innocence. 

She groaned at his teasing, “Please fuck me! I want you to fuck me.”

“Aww,” he cooed. “Does my poor baby need my cock?” 

She whined and nodded. 

“You got up so early, didn’t you?” His nails dragged along her hips, making her squirm, as she humped frantically in an attempt to get at his cock. “You got up early to make my birthday so special. You baked me a cake. It smells amazing, doesn’t it? Smell it, baby.”

Her eyes widened in frustration, “Peter! Fuck me! Please, stop it.”

He ignored her pleas, getting off of them, as his cock twitched between her thighs, “Did you slip that cake into the oven just for me?”

She was nearly sobbing from her own arousal, ready to attack him if he didn’t shut up and fuck her soon. She arched her back to better entice him, wagging her ass and rubbing it against his hips. She pushed herself up with her arms so he could get a peeking view of her tits swaying in wait for him. 

That seemed to do the trick because he had gone silent as he stared.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Happy birthday to me.” 

“I want it hard, Peter. Use me,” she whispered in an effort to finally push him over the edge. “I’m yours.”

He lined up his cock to her entrance and eased himself inside. She nearly doubled over against the table at the delicious feeling that flooded through her body. 

“Yes, yes, thank you, baby, thank you,” she cried. 

“You really love this cock, don’t you?” He breathed. “Do you love this cock more than me?” 

“No, baby, never. I could never-”

He pulled out and rammed the full, thick length back into her with a loud slap. 

She shrieked, falling forward into a flurry of mumbled moans, “I do, I do, I do. I love it more than you. I love it more than anything.” Tears pricked in her eyes from the overwhelming sensations taking over. 

Peter chuckled to himself, “That’s my girl.”

Her ass slapped against his body with each plunging drive of his cock as he took her. Fast and hard, just like she asked. Every thrust felt like it was reverberating through her, waking up all her senses, making her feel more alive than ever before. It was sheer bliss. Anticipation already began to build. He knew exactly how hard to take her. Peter could be rough but he never went past her limits. He knew her inside and out. He knew just where to push her before retreating back to safety. The sounds of her tumbling moans and each inhale of breath was all he needed to direct his path. 

He was filling her body, stretching her, taking her, building her up to that beautiful place of divinity. Her nails clawed at the table, scratching at the wood, trying to find some kind of purchase to steady herself with. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Peter!” She cried. 

“That’s it, baby,” he panted. “I got you. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

He wrapped her ponytail around his hand and jerked her head upwards. She arched her back to accommodate the move as he held her against him. She could feel his ragged breaths against her cheek and listened to his erotic panting in her ear. The sound was enough to almost send her flying straight into an orgasm. 

The hand not keeping a tight hold of her ponytail wrapped around her to grab at her chest. He molded her breast between strong hands. 

She loved taking his cock. Loved it so deep. Thrusting. Hard. Stretching her. Forcing her to take him. Peter was thick. Thickest man she had ever been with. He pushed her walls to their max. His beautiful body and the sounds he made when he fucked her where like heaven to her ears. 

That familiar, sensual pressure began to grow inside of her with shallow waves lapping at the edges of her mind. Soon they would turn into giant swells. Taking her over until it was all she could feel. 

His hand slipped from her ponytail to wrap around her neck. He gave a gentle squeeze. Nothing too forceful but enough to send her flying even faster towards that tsunami of pleasure. She was so close. So ready. 

“Harder, Peter,” she sobbed. “Hard. Please. I’m-I’m…close…need it hard. Take me.” 

Peter was never to deny a request like that. He shoved her back over the table and tumbled on top of her, humping frantically with long, heavy strokes into her cunt. He could feel her walls tightening. He could feel her body changing. 

“Come on, baby,” he urged her. “Cum on my cock. Cum for me. Let me feel you.”

The universe exploded into blinding light. 

She didn’t care how loud she was. Didn’t care if the neighbors would hear. In fact, she wanted them to. She wanted them to know exactly how well Peter Parker could fuck his woman. 

Her toes curled and her legs kicked up as the sensory overload rocketed through her with golden waves of pure dopamine. 

Peter took her straight to the edge and held her there, spasming and sobbing, as he continued to fuck her through the orgasm. Even as the waves slowly receded, they still lingered in tiny aftershocks, due to his relentless pounding. He had gotten her where she needed to be and now it was his turn. 

He reangled himself into her, getting a better grip as he held onto her hips, and switched up his rhythm to slow. Peter liked to feel everything. He wanted to drag it out and feel her body wrapped around him. From fast and hard to slow and steady. His change of pace caused a low, drawn out moan to escape from her throat. 

“You like that, baby?” He panted. “You like feeling every inch of me?”

All she could do was whimper in response as her sex spasmed again around him. This was a man who knew how to lengthen an orgasm. She was completely helpless to him. Her body was his play thing. 

“Let me hear how much you love me, baby,” he whispered down in her ear as his cock buried straight to the hilt inside of her. “Let me hear you.”

She struggled to make any noise besides sobbing whimpers and broken cries. 

He moaned in response, “That’s it. Those are those sounds that I love so much. My poor baby, all ravaged on my cock. Can’t even speak.” 

He gave a small shudder and she knew he was close. She did her best to work her hips to meet his thrusts, squeezing him with her walls, sucking him in, clenching down. 

“That’s good, baby, that’s good.” He moaned, his voice slowly losing itself as he got closer to the edge. “Ooh, fuck, keep that up. ‘M gon’na cum inside ya’kay?” 

She loved it when he filled her. She loved feeling him drip down her leg as she carried him around with her. She would bathe in his semen if he wished it. It was his birthday, after all. The birthday boy could come wherever he pleased. 

His long, slow strokes worked her up as another, tiny orgasm rippled through her. That seemed to be all he needed to follow. 

Peter let out a low groan, his thrusts become more unrestrained with each passing second, and she took him. All of him. 

With the sweetest of cries, he emptied himself inside of her. She could feel him swell and pulse until she was impossibly full. That tiny orgasm grew into something much bigger, taking over her body along with him, as she felt him collapse on top of her, both shaking, as he bit at her shoulders with soft, love bites until he finally calmed down. 

He stayed like that, laid against her back and squishing her into the table, until he cock began to soften and he sadly slid back out. She tumbled back into his arms as they both fell to the spooning position against the kitchen floor. Naked, wet, and breathing heavily. 

Peter’s hand found the comfort of her breast once more. 

“Mmm,” he hummed. “Best present I could ask for. Thank you, baby. You’re too good to me.” 

She grunted in response, still finding words to fail her. Instead, she rolled over in his arms, hooking her leg through his, and leaving a trail of kisses across his face to show much she adored him.  

His eyes closed as he smiled happily at the feeling. 

Eventually she would have to get up. Eventually she would have to shower and get dressed and clean the kitchen and set up his presents and frost the cake…but for now…

For now she was happy to just lay here on the floor in his arms.

[alwaysmoncheri]

hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣

hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3

cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k

<3

Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.

“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.

“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.

“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.

“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”

“But–”

“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”

Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.

You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.

“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.

“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.

“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.

“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.

The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.

“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”

With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.

“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.

“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”

You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.

“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”

“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”

May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.

The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.

“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face

<3

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!

tags: @googie-jeon, @Kevia1000, @annoyingmidgetwhowrites, @averyhotchner, @marauderswhxre, @vixparker

alwaysmoncheri © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

[fleuraimer]

hi girlies :)). i've got another breeding blurby to share, thank ms. bubbles @harrysonlylover.

wc: 1.6k

cw: talk of menstrual and ovulation cycle, smut, minors dni, 17+, breeding kink, and more. not proofread.

Some people might say that the extent of his knowledge and control over Y/N’s life is not healthy. They might even suggest that his possessive behavior is a red flag, too. The constant messaging, always knowing her location, who she’s with, when she’s with them, why, how…

They didn’t tend to think of it that way. Love comes in all forms and theirs is… different.

Y/N likes being controlled. She wants him to know everything about her. She fucking craves the comfort of being taken care of for the price of absolutely nothing.

Well, maybe a few things.

Her obedience, for one, was expected (required). Her honesty, and loyalty. Her submission, too (although, sometimes, he liked to submit to her).

They’d found a simple way of living on some inherit, basic principles.

One, Y/N loved to be taken care of.

Two, he loved to take care of her.

So that was that. He was controlling, and she reveled in the power imbalance, and they didn’t care if others didn’t understand it, or like it, or even respect it. It was theirs, and it was enough.

It was fucking perfect.

One of the many ways he kept a tight leash on Y/N’s life was by tracking her menstrual cycle. He liked being ahead of the game—warm bath with waterlily scented suds ready for when she arrived home after her courses, her favorite sweet treats scattered across the kitchen island, Gilmore Girls queued up on his laptop, candles lit and heating pad at attention. Keeping track of her period meant knowing other things, intuitively, too. Like knowing that her cramps were worst on the first few days ( they were horrendous the last days too, though), that she’s more cuddly and soft than irritable or grumpy, that if she was too— no, severely stressed, overworking herself mentally, emotionally, and physically, she’d more likely than not work herself into a dreadful tizzy and end up intensifying (or even sometimes missing) her cycle.

Like now.

The poor thing, she was curled up in a frail little ball by end of the night every day this past week, deadlines looming over her head like a dark, rainy cloud as midterms approach. And, stubborn angel girl she is, she doesn’t bleat and moan about it to him. She doesn’t weep into his chest about how difficult this time is the way he encourages her to. She holds her chin high until the sun falls from the sky, her perseverance going with it, the stars and moon left to keep her and her misery company. And him, of course.

So, before the height of her period—when the red devil actually rears her ugly little head instead of inspiring trepidation of the inevitable with sore tits, an achy spine, and mental anguish—he thinks he’ll treat her a bit. And perhaps himself, as well (what? periods meant ovulating, and ovulating meant a lot of things).

———

Y/N’s head is quiet for the first time in days, and it’s all because of him.

As if anyone else could do what he does for her.

“Pretty girl,” he whispers in the place he’s nuzzled into her neck, littered with love bites and bruises. His cock is stuffed in her drippy pussy, stretching her deliciously over his thick, lengthy girth; his strong, beefy arms trapping her body to his like a vice.

Cowgirl usually makes Y/N’s thighs sore, but he’d taken the liberty of doing all the work tonight. He was in no mood for teasing, nor mocking or degrading. She wasn’t his whore tonight, just his girl. His soft, gorgeous, sensitive girl that deserved a sweet fucking after all the tears she’d choked down this week.

She needed a good cry.

“My little pillow princess, Yeah?” He mumbles, peaking up at her sluggish form. She’s slumped into him, head lain on his shoulder uselessly, hands gripping the tight Henley he’d neglected to rid himself of in the rush of their lustrous dance. She manages a nod, however, lazy and slow, but, somehow, still urgent. Frantic. In the glow of her eye, he can see, she adores that idea. “Yeah,” He nods, gripping the soft curve of her jaw to move her head with him, “My girl.”

She whimpers, but doesn’t speak. Too exhausted, too sedated. His cum is addicting, and if it were a drug, she’d inject it right into her veins (up her cunt).

Her arms wind around his neck, fingers spreading through the curly, sweaty tendrils of hair at the nape. Her nails tickle him, in the best way, only adding to the allure of her being. Of her mere presence.

Her hips swivel, rocking against his to create a mind-numbing sensation that has them both mewling. His cock stretches her out and fills her up completely, felt in the deepness of her tummy. Her lashes flutter when she feels him twitch inside of her, a sign that he’s close (she’d realize that she’s much closer if she had the brain capacity to think of anything other than him).

The thought—of his cum filling her to the point of spilling around their joined parts, a filthy mess between their legs—makes her dizzy. Eager. She’d been good, so good, this week, hadn’t she?

Fed herself, cleaned herself, went to class on time, even though school made her unpleasantly weak in the knees. She studied every day for at least three hours at the library, before trudging home with bleary eyes and a foggy head, only to do more studying.

She deserved a treat, right? A reward for staying in line, for not being bratty or whiny when he was busy and all she wanted was for her brain to shut off.

Now, with the opportunity before her (to go totally brain-dead, that is), she refuses to not seize the moment.

“Come,” she says suddenly, catching him mildly off guard.

Oh? She wanted to order him around?

“Please.”

Oh. Guess not.

“Please, please, come, Sir, I want it, so fucking bad,” she whines, mouthing at the chain sitting delicately across his neck. It’s nearly out of place; something so frail and pretty looks almost comical gracing his large, stocky figure. Perhaps that’s how those judgy people saw them, out of place.

She didn’t care though, she thought it looked nice on him. He made it look nice. Made it better, just like he makes everything better.

“Wan’ me t’a stuff you up, Babydoll?” he grunts, thankful that she’d somehow picked up on his primitive, feral need. Or maybe she just wanted it just as bad. “Fill you with my come and make you m’messy girl?”

“Yes, please,” she cries faintly, her lips brushing the shell of his ear, hiding her face in his neck as the tears finally start to flow.

How precious.

“Okay,” he sighs, his hands trailing from her hips to the plush, full of her ass. “I’ll fill y’up, Sugar.” He lifts her up, letting his cock slip from her fluttering hole to the tip— less than the tip. He smears himself onto her clit, making her jolt, and spanks her in reprimand. “Stay still for Daddy,” he scolds softly. “Lemme do my job.”

She cries pitifully when her thrusts back inside, hard. And he doesn’t lighten up. Not in the slightest. He pounds his cock into her small pussy, chasing his orgasm, trying to claim hers, bullying his way through her tight snatch to find them.

“Play with your pouty clit, Doll,” he offers. “Wan’ y’to come with me; cream my fat cock, Baby.”

Y/N does not need to be told twice.

One hand drops from the back of his head to toy with her swollen button, and it takes three weak twirls of her delicate fingers to get her there. He’s not far behind, nuzzling into her neck once more, mirroring her own position on top of him, groaning out profanities as his orgasm washes over him, from his head to the tips of his toes. He continues to drill his cock into her until his legs give out, trembling beneath her own.

They pant heavily, in unison, into each others necks as they start to come down.

He feels good, accomplished. He can feel that satisfaction rolling off of his girl in waves—felt it throughout their soft session—and it was more than enough to keep him happy. His orgasm was just a much appreciated bonus.

And Y/N… she feels great. Cunt clenching over his half-hard cock, full of him, literally, in every way she could be. Thoughts silenced and replaced with rose hued daydreams, floaty, fuzzy sensations that tingle through her entire body and make her slightly sluggish, slow. She feels fucking amazing.

“Hope it takes…” she admits softly, absently. The phrase slips off of her tongue without thought (we’ve established that their are none left in that subby head of hers), and her tone suggests she’s not expecting a reaction.

He gives her one, anyway.

“Say that again,” he demands, grip on her ass tightening, his voice grumbly, deep, shooting a shiver up her spine.

“Huh?”

“Tell Daddy what the fuck you just said, Babydoll.”

Her eyes round out even more, if possible, lips parted, gazing owlishly. Stupidly.

“Said, ‘I hope it takes,’ Daddy,” She whimpers quietly, squeezing around his, once again, stiff prick.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes fluttering.

It’s like she wanted to stay locked on his cock all night.

…Oh well.

So be it.

“It’ll take, Sugar,” he says after a few moments of tense silence, shifting her up gently, manhandling her with a softness that makes her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. He presses a chaste kiss to her mouth, sweet. Contradictory.

“Daddy’ll make it take.”

[venus616]

Hi!! Requesting a spicy tasm!peter fic where he puts his photography skills to use if ya know what I mean 🔥🫶🏽

his muse; {p.p.}

Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)

Summary: peter puts his photography skills to use when you're naked

Warnings: established relationship, smut, vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex (blowjob), praise kink (if you squint), photos during sex, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: hi. i love this trope So Much… like more than you will ever know, but bc i love it and i’ve seen it done multiple times with peter i was very scared to even do anything with it sjnksks but here is my finished product, i hope you like it~

(Also- it is my gift to anyone who actually likes reading my content bc ive been gone for a While and will be gone for another 2-3 weeks bc finals are not fun! so i hope this is good, enjoy!)

You’re putting away your shared laundry when you hear a loud noise on your window sill. You don’t even flinch this far into your relationship and only shake your head, separating your clothes from his. The window opens letting in a cool breeze and Peter’s book bag hits the ground before he gets inside. 

It's only then you look and give his body, clad in his suit, a scan and smile. “You okay?” You ask. The sun already set and the crisp winter air started to fill the room. 

He scoffs before shutting the window. You turn your body around from the basket in front of you to see Peter shaking his head while taking his camera out of his bag.

The professional camera Peter spent a year saving up for when he was 18 was sat next to your much less efficient Polaroid camera. On it, there was a photo of you two celebrating your anniversary together recently. The flash showing you kissing Peter on the cheek, he’s blushing at the attention and eyes closed from the flash. 

Peter smiled at the memory before he continued speaking. 

“Why do people think it’s okay to commit crime when I’m just getting off my shift?” He sighed before setting down his bag next to your bed.

“They’re so inconsiderate,” You pout playfully while folding his clothes into his reserved drawer at your place.

Peter looks up from unpacking and focuses on your ass poking up from your position. You feel his eyes on you as your t-shirt hangs loosely on your body, and the hair on your legs prick up from the cold in the room.

Peter takes off his mask revealing his disheveled hair and takes in the sight of you like it’s his last.

Your lacy underwear decorating the plump flesh of your butt, reminding Peter of how quickly he had to leave this morning before getting to appreciate for bandaging him up last night.

His eyes continued to scan up, seeing the old t-shirt frame your shape, admiring it as if he had x-ray vision.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Peter is brought out of his thoughts hearing your soft voice, taunting him for his staring problem.

“Don’t tempt me,” Peter quips back. He shakes his head before tossing his mask in your empty hamper. Sitting on your bed and bending over to remove his boots, his ears don’t miss your footsteps as you saunter to him.

You place your feet in between his while he looks back up to you, removing the rest of his suit. 

“It’s never stopped you before,” You cross your arms while he slips out of his suit, leaving his web shooters on. The suit is strewn across the floor and your eyes focus on Peter’s body. 

No matter how beat up he was, Peter remains to be the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. You ran your hands over his, now, yellow ribs. Compared to the purple constellation he had yesterday, you were grateful for his superhuman healing. 

He had a nasty fall yesterday, left with some scars and bruising, but thankfully this time you didn’t have to stitch him up. 

You even notice the scratch on his arm is almost gone but Peter liked wearing your special bandaids. He likes giving you a reason to buy more cartoon ones for him. 

Peter watches your eyes carefully scan his body for anything else and adores you for it. Still, he hates making you worry.

“You weren’t naked before.”

A smile creeps up on your face, a giggle disguised as a scoff when you answer: “I’m not naked.”

You don’t realize you set yourself up for Peter’s response until he smirks. His hands snake up underneath your shirt to toy with your nipples, already hard because of the cold air lingering in the room. 

A hiss escapes your mouth at feeling his larger, colder hands grip your boobs. Peter slightly grins at his effect on you. He pulls at the bottom of your shirt before raising it up your body. You oblige, pulling it over your head to toss it across your room.

His face lit up at your frontal nudity, hands placed on either side of your hips tugging at your underwear. 

“Let’s change that.” 

You roll your eyes at his response, but not without a smile plastered on your face. You could feel the heat pooling in between your thighs and the excitement in your stomach. 

“What position should I be in?” You shudder under his callus fingers. Peter lightly furrows his eyebrows when you turn, gesturing to your polaroid camera from your bedside table. 

His face relaxes when he registers what you guys are doing, not realizing how serious you were being. 

Your eyes flicker up and down his body when you turn to face him, noticing his erection bulging out of his briefs. Leaning down you use your hand to palm him through the fabric, feeling his cock pulsate in your hand.

“On your knees,” You whip your head up when Peter says that, his hands still roaming around your body. 

You quirk your eyebrow up in response. Pressing your forehead and nose to his, you plant a kiss onto his lips. Your hands are now on either of his thighs, sinking lower onto the ground as the kiss deepens. 

Before you can fully get down, you hear a light thwip and break the kiss. 

You see Peter’s wrist is flicked out with his web shooters activated, latched on to your polaroid camera. There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes before he pulls it into his hands.

Resting on your knees, you’re before him with your fingers tracing the waistband of his boxers. You carefully watch for his reactions, but he’s refamiliarizing himself with your flimsy camera you got in your teenage years as a novelty.

You cross your arms on his legs and look up at him, the camera points at you and all you can focus on is his wide smile behind the camera. “Let’s see if I still know how this works,” Peter jokes.  

You repose with both your hands on your knees, pushing your breasts out in between your arms. You didn’t realize they were hardly the focus of the photo (but still included, Peter was only human after all). 

The photo snaps and you remember you have to get used to the flash again. Blinking a few times to get used to the discomfort, the photo prints out and Peter seems pleased with himself already. 

“It hasn’t even developed yet,” You taunt, you resume palming him as you assume that was the extent of his practice shots. 

Peter shrugs while shaking the photo as gently as possible. “Hey, who’s the photographer here? I know a good subject when I see it,” He nudges you. 

When the photo barely develops, he shows you and you see yourself: half naked on your knees with your face fully in the photo. You were surprised he included that much of your face, and managed to catch you looking as confident as you could. But it was easy when Peter was behind the camera, he never fails to make you feel like his only muse. 

You blush and look away from the photo as you continue to massage him. Peter’s breath hitches at the rate at which you go at, and you smirk to yourself. 

No matter how much control Peter took in bed, he wasn’t afraid to show you how quickly he’d fold for you. It was one of the many things you appreciated about him. Another one was just how vocal he was, his whimpers before you even got to touch him were making your underwear dampen. 

When his dick starts twitching, you pull his boxers down, his cock slaps up to his stomach while he watches your movements. Locking eyes with him, you wrap both your hands around his shaft before slowly jacking him off. 

You’re mesmerized by the way his body is flexed under your touch, you almost don’t hear what he says. 

“Your mouth,” He breathes out. 

You sit up higher on your knees and kiss up his happy trail, lingering when you get closer to his cock. You hear his groan and look up, meeting his eyes.

You raise your eyebrows. “My mouth, what?” 

Your lips quirk up again, teasing him. “Use your words.” 

He rolls his eyes in response but you shake your head.  “I can stop,” You remind him. 

His brown eyes almost bulge out his head when you say that, wrapping his own hand over yours to stop your movements from pausing. He leans over to get closer to your face, the scent of you surrounding him. Peter’s face softens at your smugness. 

“Baby,” He starts. You wait to listen to how he pleads for you to stay while he leads your hands.  

“I need that pretty mouth of yours to suck my cock,” He gasps out and removes his hand when you loosen your wrist in response. Your eyes soften at the praise and Peter mentally celebrates when he leans back to his original position. 

You reposition yourself as well, with your neck getting to work as you lick a stripe underneath the shaft of his cock. Peter sharply inhales at the feeling and brings his head back up. 

You lock eyes with him when you feel the jolt in his body and open your mouth in an ‘O’ shape around the head of his cock. 

Relaxing your throat, you lower your head on his length and feel the tip of his cock hitting your uvula before you begin bobbing your head. 

Caught off guard, you could taste the saltiness of his precum on your tongue now. You gagged a bit and popped off him to lick it off in the most obscene way you could think of. 

Peter mutters, “Just like that.” and you look up. 

Forgetting he had a camera, the shutter went off to capture your tongue on the underside of his wet tip. 

You collect more saliva in your mouth while you run your hand up and down his shaft. Feeling prepared enough, you go back down on him with the drool dripping on his cock on your hands. 

Peter went crazy at the heat of your mouth and the sight of your lips around him. The only thought he had was to get the camera out again to keep this moment forever.

Getting slack jawed at this, he tangles his hands in your hair but doesn’t change your pace. He only starts pushing it out of your face as it gets in the way. 

You look up at him and see Peter pointing the camera at you as you have half his cock in your mouth. The first shot is taken, and he tries to not move too much as the photo prints out immediately.  He releases a few breathy moans at the pace you're going at while he places the new photo on the side. 

Peter silently gestures to you to get him out your mouth so you release him with a pop, flipping your hair to the side as you continue to jack him off.

“That’s good,” He mutters, when he places the camera at his eye before snapping a new photo. 

“I probably look insane,” You grumble, already feeling self conscious at how messy your hair looks, coupled alongside the drool and precum at your mouth. 

Peter shakes his head and pulls you in closer by your waist and you yelp, finding yourself now pinned under him on the bed. 

“Never,” He shakes his head, attaching his mouth to your tit as he pulls your underwear off. You immediately moan at his aggression on your sensitive nipples and he chuckles against your skin when he feels you flinch. 

Peter’s calloused hands find your clit and start massaging it, and you throw your head back in pleasure when he finds his rhythm. 

You feel a twinge of disappointment when he removes his mouth from your tits but you look up to see the camera watching you, and a shutter going off before you are even ready.

“Pete,” You warn. Your sternness doesn’t last when he slips in a finger in your embarrassingly wet cunt. You almost mewl at how full he makes you with just one finger. 

“You looked so pretty moaning like that,” Peter explains while his finger curls into you. He knew what he was doing when he smiled again, leaning down to kiss you on the lips.

Your annoyance was no match for his desperation as you eventually gave in. One of his hands cupped your cheek while his lips were frantic on yours. He’s greedy for you, almost lapping up your tongue with his own before he pulls away. 

“Just let go, forget the camera is even there,” He mumbles in your neck when you gasp at the absence of his lips. 

He slips in another finger and thrusts faster, making you nod mindlessly as you surrender all control.You grip onto his bicep as he pumps in and out of you, begging him for more friction. You can hear how wet you were, and while you were embarrassed, Peter relished in it. 

“Can you take a third for me baby?” He asks in a low voice as he sits up on the bed in between your legs. You nod vigorously but he quickly removes both fingers.

You open your mouth to complain but instead yelp out when Peter pulls both your legs closer to his chest as he kneels on the mattress. He set aside the camera briefly. 

“Yeah?” He searches for an answer.

“Yes,” You grunt out, already desperate for much more than his fingers. 

He massages your heat with his fingers again before he inserts three fingers in, jolting your body to sit up. You let out an obscene moan and couldn’t help but to massage your clit while he fucks you with his fingers. 

One hand being in competition with Peter’s while the other massages your boobs, you’re almost too dazed to notice the shutter then went off while you were closer to an orgasm.

“Fucking incredible,” Peter breathes out before putting the camera with the new photo down, and leans down to kiss you. His pace never falters, making you whimper against his lips. 

“I’m about to cum,” You announce shakily. Peter swallows your pleas with a kiss and just curls his fingers against your g-spot faster. You feel that familiar build up in the pit of your stomach and the pace of your clenching pick up. 

“Cum all over my fingers baby,” He answers, and you immediately let go. You hold Peter closer as you cum, heaving underneath him like you’re in heat. Your body Peter continues to finger you but only because he loves the way you suction around him. 

He still lets you come down from your high, kissing you through it and massaging your breasts with his free hand during. When your breathing slows down, he sits back up and removes his fingers from you. 

“Need you inside of me,” You remind him as you reach over to palm his already hard cock against his stomach.

“Gonna let me cum inside of you?” He asks, holding his cock in his hand already glistening with your wetness. He readjusts to line himself up to your pussy awaiting your answer.

You cock your head with your arms supporting your body from the bed. “I’ll let you cum wherever you want,” You say. 

Peter grunts at your answer before inserting himself into your entrance, and immediately throws his head back at the feeling, your warmth and wetness engulfing him. 

“So fucking tight,” He comments, and you silently agree as you feel yourself stretching out on him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you clenched around him. 

“Fuck,” you moan out as he finds a comfortable pace for the both of you. 

Or that’s what you thought. 

You hear a shutter from your camera and realize he took a picture (or two) of you in this position beneath him, moaning out for him flat on the bed with his cock inside of you. 

You didn’t have time to care as when he got his shots he immediately started to rock into you, and you felt the strength of him against your thighs before he picked up the pace. 

You watch him thrust into you and slowly lose himself above you.

“I love the way you feel around me,” He pants out, closing in on your body with his forearms framing your face. You nod as the bed squeaks and your hands roam his body, stopping at his shoulders and the nape of his neck. 

Peter obliges to your physical demands and dips down to suck on your neck, causing you to whimper as your body continues to jolt from his thrusts. His soft brown hair tickles your skin as his teeth chew at the sensitive skin in your neck. You don’t know whether to giggle or moan, but you’re vocal regardless. 

“Go faster,” You whine, becoming impatient with him. 

“I’m not gonna last if I go faster,” He growls against your skin, sending vibrations down your spine. He thrusted slower, bringing his hand down to the back of your knee to bend it closer to your body. You felt him hitting your g-spot repeatedly that you knew you weren’t going to last any longer like that. 

“I don’t care,” You cry out. Peter scoffs in your neck as if to say a begrudging ‘Fine.’ and kisses you on the cheek before kneeling back up. He’s already twitching inside you before he begins thrusting again. You almost forget what you got yourself into until you feel his balls slap against your cunt repeatedly. 

A string of curses escape both your mouths, yours because he’s just so big and you can feel the tension build up in your stomach again. Peter’s cusses are because you just won’t stop clenching around him in response, he feels like he might burst the next time you tighten around him. 

“Fuck, fuck fuck,” He mutters before spilling into you. 

You go slack jawed at the feeling of him cumming inside of you. It feels hot between your thighs, in between the burning feeling of his hard thighs slapping against your softer ones, and feeling him twitch and coat your insides and the outside of your cunt with his load. 

You cry out as he almost slips out of you, but realize he’s gonna take another picture. You’re not sure what to do, or what exactly he’s capturing but you decide to listen to his earlier advice and let it happen. Peter places the camera on his eye while his cock almost goes soft half away inside of you, and you can feel him rubbing his cum around your thighs and up your hips. 

He mutters another curse, before snapping the picture. You close your eyes and your legs when you decide that that was the last photo and miss how Peter compiles all of them on your bedside table. 

Eventually, you look up and see him pulling back up his underwear and beckoning you to see the photos. When you get up and see 6 photos lined up from tonight. 

One of you on your knees, your breasts protruding and almost being the main focus of the photo if it wasn't for your face. You want to laugh at how excited your eyes looked but you know it was only because of who was behind the camera. 

Two more during and after the blowjob, one of you in the middle taking Peter in your mouth and giving the camera (but really, Peter) siren eyes. The other was you slightly disheveled, but Peter swore you were the prettiest girl in the world with drool around your mouth.

A third of you being fingered, your head is thrown back in unfiltered pleasure from his fingers, your breasts sitting high on your chest as you’re on your back and your nipples were glistening in the photo due to the suckling that happened off camera. While scanning this photo, you realize that being caught in the moment wasn’t such a bad thing and Peter is silently celebrating he caught your O face in action. 

The fourth was similar but you had more control over your pleasure as you’re on camera massaging your breasts and hand on your pussy. You feel like a vixen with the way you’re fondling yourself, Peter silently agrees as he knows you look like one. 

Fifth and sixth photo show the before and after of Peter fucking you senseless. Fifth with your body being still underneath his, and the photo displaying that exhilarating feeling you both get when your bodies meet in the first thrust. And the sixth photo when you’re both comfortable enough to come down from your high together. The sticky, white cum is slayed over your sopping, wet pussy and Peter’s fingers and cock in the frame to remind you who fucks you like this. 

“Do you like these? I can burn them away if you don’t,” Peter runs his hands through his hair nervously, not trying to make you uncomfortable if the bit had gone too far. 

You only shake your head with a laugh bubbling in your throat at his consideration and hug his much taller frame from behind. It felt good to rest your head on his back, while his arms engulf yours from the front. 

“I love them, I love you,” You speak low but loudly enough so he can hear, and feel, your words. 

“Which ones do you want to keep?” He asks. 

You know it’s out of courtesy, just one of those things you two got used to asking each other after taking pictures on this camera. You kept the silly anniversary photo while he kept the very nice one he took of you. 

“It’s all for you,” You answer. Peter sputters quickly, turning back around to see your face when you say it, you only nod in full seriousness. 

He leans down to kiss your cheek as a thank you and you only smile back. 

“I think you’d get more use out of it than me,” You add with a tinge of humor. Peter only plays it off with another suggestion while hugging you from the front. His arms wrap around your shoulders while you rest your head in the crook of his neck. 

“You know what though?” He asks, trailing his hands down to your naked hips, stopping to cup the round of your ass. 

“What?” You mutter in his hold, already feeling your body heat up at the thought of round 2. 

Peter smirks before snaking one of his hands to your pussy. Knowing that you’re about to start throbbing, at the thought of him. You gasp before he speaks and he chuckles while he proposes his new idea. 

“I think it’s only fair if we make a movie now.”

[literaila]

can you please write a Peter Parker x reader one shot where the reader gets injured and when Peter comes to visit her in the hospital her crush is exposed because her heart monitor keeps going insane 🙏🙏 she’ll get really embarrassed and he may tease her a bit but ultimately her feelings end up being reciprocated. There could be some angst when she gets hurt but I am the number one fan of teeth-rotting fluff that will make me giggle and kick my feet 😍🫶 could be a friends to lovers situation or an established relationship if you’d like!!! I love ur writing <3

he’s trying to kill me

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: it’s only proper for this to be a hurt reader comfort peter fic (and i mean that literally)

“what is wrong with you?”

you’re momentarily shocked when an accompanying voice bursts through the room. the words are loud and imposing, and completely distracting you away from the already rough rasp and egg smelling breath of the doctor trying to explain how reckless you were being.

but the new voice is angrier than the first; harder and louder.

there’s still uncertain goosebumps running up your skin when he walks through the doors with his chest heaving and eyes dark, pushing past the doctor like he doesn’t even realize that the woman is there, or just doesn’t care.

but his hands are gentle as they reach you, and his face is anything but shocking.

the doctor is glancing around his shoulder, a worried look in her eyes.

quickly, your muscles relax. you’re used to this imposition. your nerves settle, and you allow peter the chance to freak out for the both of you.

his hands run over your cheeks, his eyes darting over every possible inch of skin they can find. his frown is unburdened and furious. when he is satisfied with his scan of you—all limbs accounted for—peter’s shoulders lose a bit of their tension.

although you allow peter to pull you closer to him, his eyes are threatening, and not even your small greeting of a smile gets his face to settle.

he hugs you—crushing your head against his chest—and then quickly let’s you go, like he’s just realized that you’re made of lava.

but not too far, of course. peter is well within a foot distance.

“what is wrong with you?” he repeats, but a hiss this time. a punishment awaiting its victim. a demand of you. “are you crazy?”

your brows furrow back at him. “i’m fine, peter, now shush. let me listen to the doctor.” your voice is firm, but your chastising is ruined by the tip of a smile at your lips.

your hands wrap around peters arm, moving him away from blocking your view of the doctor.

you nod for her to continue.

“your x-rays came back fine, and there’s nothing unusual about your blood work. the only concern i have is about your head—“

“her head?” peter repeats, voice a bit high. you give him a look to shut up. pinching the skin of his arm, but he doesn’t flinch. just stares at you like you might disappear. or you gained four additional eyes.

she clears her throat. “it looks to be a minor concussion, but any more blunt force trauma might worsen your condition. so it’s important that you take extra precautions in the next couple of weeks, and avoid doing anything that might affect your head. no strenuous exercise, or harsh movement.”

“so no alleyway fist fights?”

she doesn’t laugh, and neither does peter. the tension within the room remains, swirling over you like a cumulonimbus cloud.

but he does interrupt once again. “could it get worse on its own?” he asks, eyes darting between you and her. “do i need to be watching for anything? checking her pupils every once in a while, or making sure she’s not excessively napping for the next couple of days—“

“it shouldn’t be necessary.” she looks back to you, and you can see the sarcasm in her eyes. “if you develop any unusual symptoms, schedule an appointment with your physician. but otherwise, you’re free to leave whenever they bring in your paperwork.”

you feel peter sigh next to you, and you shake your head. “thanks, doc.”

“i’ll have a nurse bring in a list of information about any reoccurring symptoms, and the healing process for your brain over the next month.”

you nod.

the doctor clears her throat once again, giving you a tight lipped smile and nodding at peter, and then she runs out of the room as fast as humanly possible.

you watch her go but peter is staring at you. eventually, when you’ve been dwelling on the pattern of the tile for a moment too long, you look back.

and what you see is expected; harsh lines and worried dimples, stormy eyes and a gash of a frown ruining his otherwise perfect face.

you sigh.

peter swallows. “are you going to explain yourself?”

you lean forward, small teasing smile on your lips as you rest your chin on a hand. “explain what? my headache?”

“c’mon, i’m serious,” his frown doesn’t budge, but he nudges your leg so he can sit down next to you. “what were you thinking?”

he sighs again, shoulders falling, and leans his head next to yours. when he’s this close, you can see the lines wearing under his eyes. you can smell smoke coming off of his skin.

“i was thinking that my doctor needs to improve her bedside manner, and that my boyfriend needs to learn how to wait his turn to speak.”

“i’m not kidding. you could’ve hurt yourself—you’ve already got a concussion.”

“a minor concussion.”

“does it matter?” peter mumbles, rubbing his eyes.

“i’m fine, baby, all bandaged up and everything.”

peter pushes himself up, meeting your eyes with an unfound passion. “this time,” he urges, getting closer, he glances at the door. “but what about next time when you decide to jump off a building just to prove you can fly?”

“i’m not icarus,” you shake your head. “you needed help, peter. i’m not going to let someone get hurt just so i don’t.”

“that’s my job.”

“that’s every good samaritans job,” you roll your eyes, hand brushing through his hair, feeling the dirt build up under your fingertips. “just because you have an advantage over everyone else doesn’t mean that you’re the only one who gets to be a hero.”

“dying isn’t heroic.”

you scoff. “that’s actually the most heroic thing a person can do, but i’m going to let you have this one so you don’t go and get any ideas.”

he bites his lip, swallowing. “you could’ve gotten hurt.”

“well so could you, but you don’t see me bursting into your room and interrupting—“

“that’s not the same thing.”

“how, peter?” you ask, shaking your head and giving him a small smile. “how is this any different?”

“because i can handle it!”

he moves away from you, and throws his head back, sighing out of frustration and looking at you with gentler, more pained eyes. “i can handle it,” he repeats.

“are you saying that if you were standing where i was you wouldn’t have pushed that woman out of the way?”

“i—“

“you cant expect me to watch you save everyone and not help when i can.”

peters eyes catch yours, and you watch him struggle to speak. but eventually he whispers, “you got hurt.”

“i’m okay, though. really.”

“i don’t…” peter shakes his head. “i don’t want, i can’t—ugh.”

you reach for his hand, running a finger over bruised knuckles. “i appreciate your concern,” you tell him, softly. “i know you’re just worried, but you have to let me make my own decisions. you cant rescue everyone all the time.”

“you would be enough.”

you snort. “peter, you have the worlds biggest savior complex. if you let a single person get hurt—even if they live in antarctica—you brood for days. i don’t expect you to watch other people suffer, but i need you to respect the same for me.”

your words are almost biting.

there’s a moment where peter looks at you, and then glances towards the wall. “are you mad?”

you frown. “no, of course not. annoyed or frustrated, maybe. but not mad.”

he gestures beside you with his head. “your hearts beating really fast.”

you look over to the screen next to your head, watching the lines rise and fall rapidly. and then down to your finger, with the cursed device making it apparent to everyone in the room.

“that’s just my resting heart rate,” you say, curled lip and waved hand.”

peter licks his lip. “oh, really?”

“yes, peter. you put on the finger thingy and let’s see how fast your hearts going.”

“i’m not the patient here. are you feeling alright? light headed? dizzy?”

“i’m feeling interrogated.”

peter moves closer to you, eyes darting towards the screen by your head, then to your eyes. he moves away, and his eyes squint. “hmm.”

you look with him, furrowed brows. “what?“

he leans forward again. “there seems to be a common factor.”

“i already told you—“

“every time i move closer to you your heart rate spikes.”

you roll your eyes. “that’s because i’m mad at you.”

“i thought you said you weren’t mad?”

“things have changed.”

peter laughs and leans down to kiss your hairline. when he moves back his eyes aren’t on you. a small smirk falls on his lips, and he moves to kiss your cheek. and then the other.

you don’t need to watch your heart rate to feel the heat rising in your chest.

he leaves a peck on your nose, and moves to kiss the side of your jaw. his kisses are gentle and ticklish, and when his nose runs along your cheekbone, you have to refrain from shivering.

he’s incredibly annoying.

peter moves back as little as possible so he can watch the screen. “maybe i should leave the room.”

“maybe you should get over yourself.”

peter moves forward again, kissing your cupids bow. and then his lips are at your ear and his fingertips are grazing your jaw.

“you first,” he whispers.

you groan and tilt your head, trying to shake him off of you. “this isn’t fair. get your own monitor.”

“let’s just focus on you right now.”

your hand locks around his neck, the other moving to his hair. peters eyes are almost shocked at the feeling, but his momentary surprise gives you the perfect opportunity to pull him closer.

to actually kiss him and avoid dying of any more teasing.

peters smile is evident against your lips, but he doesn’t move away, and his breath meets your own in gentle strokes.

his hand is smooth as he tilts your chin up.

you can feel your own heartbeat, but peter takes his other hand so he can rest two fingers against your neck, feeling for your pulse.

you want to die at the feeling.

“interesting,” he says, his lips brushing yours.

you roll your eyes while they’re still closed, and hope that he can feel it. “shut up.”

peter laughs again, and guides you in short but tense kisses, like he’s trying to make sure that you’re still breathing.

he doesn’t budge when you try to force him closer.

and before you can get him to kiss you properly again, there’s a clearing of a throat, and a different kind of spike in your heartbeat.

a nurse stands behind peter, looking a bit uncomfortable.

peter moves away, swallowing, and greeting the nurse with a shake of his hand. she’s holding a clipboard and a juice box, giving the two of you a brief smile. “sorry to interrupt,” she says.

peter laughs and looks back at you with wide eyes.

you smile, then point at peter. “he’s trying to kill me.”

*

[withahappyrefrain]

3 is the Magic Number

For @wicked-blathers' Kink or Treat event! Yes I'm several days late, shhh, it's fine..

Summary: you and Peter decide it's time to start trying to expand your family

Warnings: strong breeding kink, soft dom Peter, overstimulation, creampies, daddy kink, choking, did I mention breeding kink? Also Peter having baby fever.

It all started when your cousin brought over her infant at Thanksgiving. 

You couldn't help but coo over the baby, with his bright eyes and gummy smile and little fingers. When your cousin asked if you wanted to hold him, you immediately said yes and brought him over to Peter.

"Look at him! Isn't he cute?" You gushed to your husband. 

"Yeah, he's quite the charmer already," Peter commented. But his eyes weren't on the baby, they were on you. 

"You look like a natural holding him," He whispered as his arm wrapped around your waist. 

You didn't think much of his comment at the time. 

That night, your legs shook as he held them over his shoulders, thrusting into you deeply. 

"Gonna fill ya up," Peter whispered, his eyes never leaving the sight of his cock entering you, "Ya want that?" 

"P-please," you choked out. At the time, you were so focused on how he was hitting that sweet spot that you didn't realize this was the first time he talked about coming inside you. 

In hindsight, you couldn't blame yourself for not picking up on the signs. It was difficult when his calloused fingers were rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You did notice how the following month, when your family had gathered together, Peter couldn't take his eyes off of your cousin's baby. 

"I think Peter wants one too," Your cousin motioned over to the table. 

You looked to find Peter was kneeling down at the table, causing him to be at eye level with Reid, who was currently lying down in the baby lounger. 

It was a sweet sight, Peter offering one of his fingers to Reid, his honeyed eyes never leaving the baby. A soft smile stretched onto his face as Reid attempted to wrap his tiny fingers around Peter's. 

Other relatives mentioned their theories on Peter's desire to have children to you that night. You knew he wanted kids, it was one of the first things you two discussed on your first date. 

You had been married for several years, taking the steps towards having children: paying off student debt, finding stable jobs, buying a townhouse. 

It came to a head when you received a reminder from your OBGYN one night.

"Fuck, I gotta make an appointment," you said out loud. 

Peter looked up from the exams he had been grading, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, "For what?" 

"My IUD. It's been five years and I need to get it replaced," you explained as you pulled the app up on your phone to look at the availability of appointments.

"Or," Peter started, his fingers toying with the pen,  "you could…..not replace it." 

You nearly dropped your phone at the comment, "What do you mean not replace it?" 

The tips of Peter's ears were turning red, which was funny considering he was the one who brought it up. 

"You could just… have it taken out," He mumbled, his long fingers fidgeting with the pen he had been using to grade. 

"If you want to start trying for a kid, I need you to actually say it instead of beating around the-" 

"I want to start trying for a kid. I've wanted to start trying since I saw you holding Reid at Thanksgiving." 

There was silence after his statement as you processed your husband's words. 

"I….I've wanted to start trying since I saw you sitting with Reid when we went to my family's for Hanukkah." You admitted. 

His eyes widened. Peter knew you wanted kids just like him, but he honestly wasn't sure what to expect when he brought this up. He had prepared himself for "we're not ready" or "not yet". 

"So….we should start trying for a kid," He stated. 

You couldn't help but giggle, "Well, first I have to get my IUD taken out." 

Peter joined you in laughter, "That is kinda important." 

You wiggled your eyebrows, "Kinda?" 

"Yeah, just a little." Your giggles erupted into full on laughter, filling the bedroom. 

"So when can you get it taken out?" Peter asked as his laughter subsided. 

"Eager, are we?" You grinned. 

"I've been waiting for this since our first date, forgive me," Peter deadpanned. Despite his tone, the comment still brought heat to your face. 

Trying to play it off, you looked at your phone, pulling up the app your doctor's office used. 

"The soonest appointment is next Wednesday at two-thirty."

"Take it." 

—---------------------------------------

To say Peter was excited was an understatement. 

"Apparently taking prenatal vitamins before you get pregnant helps," He said as he held up the bottle. 

"Who told you that?" You asked before taking a bite of your apple. 

"May." 

You nearly choked on the piece of fruit, "Did you tell your aunt we're trying to conceive?!" 

Peter shrugged, "She outwardly expressed that she wanted to be a grandparent when I turned eighteen. I figured if anyone has any tips, it's the person who works in a hospital." 

"Who else have you told? The latest villain you've been fighting?" 

"We should also stop drinking now. And stop eating fish high in Mercury. Those things lower your fertility," Peter said as he read over the article on his laptop, ignoring your comment. 

"You do realize that this won't happen overnight, right?" You were excited but didn't want Peter to be disappointed. 

"I know. But you can also get pregnant as soon as you get your IUD taken out. So we might as well increase our chances." 

"I also can experience cramps and slight bleeding when I get my IUD taken out. So it's unlikely we'll be able to start on Wednesday," you explained. 

"Oh," Peter said, clearly having not thought about that, "Well, that gives us more time for the vitamins to take effect and to get all the alcohol and mercury out of ya."

—------------ 

The removal was far less painful than the insertion. 

As you entered your apartment, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. 

"How ya feeling?" Peter murmured into your hair. 

"Sore. I'm also bleeding." 

Peter squeezed the flesh of your waist, "I'm sorry bug." 

"I feel bad for you. You seemed pretty excited to start," you giggled. You couldn't help it; the slight pout on Peter's face was adorable. 

Peter shrugged, "I've waited six years. What's a few more days gonna do?" 

You couldn't help but lean your head into his chest, his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed against your forehead, his beard creating a soft friction. 

"I love you bug," he whispered against your skin. 

"I love you too Tiger," you looked up, your chin against his chest, "you've really waited six years for this?" 

Peter's cheeks became flushed, "Yeah." 

"Pete, we've been together for six years." 

Now the tips of Peter's ears were bright red, "I….I figured you were the one early." 

A giggle escapes your lips, the one that always brought a smile to Peter's face because it was sweeter than any love song he had ever heard, "How early Pete?" 

"First date," you heard your husband mumble. 

—----------------------

Usually on Saturdays, you and Peter were up and running errands. 

But today, you two opted to sleep in. It was nice to wake up and find that he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him. 

"Hi bug," He whispered into your shoulder, his voice deeper than usual. 

"Hi Tiger," you whispered back, your fingers brushing the hair away from his forehead. 

"How ya feeling?" His nose brushed against yours. You couldn't help but admire the way his eye crinkles had become more pronounced over the years, along with the smattering of gray hairs throughout his beard and hair. 

"Pretty good. Think my body has adjusted to not having something inserted up my vagina." 

Peter grimaced, "When you say it like that, it sounds like some form of torture." 

"Can't most of the things those with a uterus have to do, be classified as torture? Waxing, shaving our arms and legs, growing a human?" 

"Growing a human isn't torture if you want it," He countered. 

"I know, but it's not gonna be easy." 

"I know," he pressed his lips against your temple, "and I'll be there for you every step of the way." 

"Even if it's two in the morning and I'm craving pretzels and mint chocolate chip ice cream?" You asked. 

"The bodega is just a few swings away," Peter assured you, bringing a smile to your face. 

"What about when I cry over otters due to my emotions being heightened?" You asked, a light tease lacing your voice. 

Peter rolled his eyes, "you already cry at otters." 

"They're so cute! And they hold hands so-" 

"So they don't get separated when they sleep," Peter finished for you. 

"Have I cried over Otters before?" You asked, confused. 

Peter chuckled as he stroked your hair, "when you're quite drunk. So I'd say I'm pretty prepared." 

You rested your head on his chest, breathing to the rhyming of his heartbeat. 

"I've also helped deliver several babies in the back of a taxi," Peter added, "So I have you covered there." 

You shuddered at the thought, "I'd rather you swing me through the city than deliver our kid in the back of a taxi." 

"Perhaps we should get you pregnant first before we decide on delivery options," Peter suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't jump on me when I said I felt fine," you admitted. 

"I wanted to be polite and say good morning first," Peter said, sheepishly. It was hard not to jump on you, but you were his wife after all, not some animal. 

Your laughter was silenced by Peter's lips, his body now pressing against yours. 

A whimper escaped your lips as you felt Peter's hips roll against yours. His large hands snaked underneath your Tshirt, squeezing your breasts. 

Your hands tangled themselves into Peter's hair, tugging on the messy locks in an attempt to pull his lips away from your neck and back up to yours. 

The removal of your clothes wasn't sexy or smooth. At one point, Peter had to get off you to pull down his sweats, huffing as he did so. 

"Wanna be close to you," He mumbled as he got back on top of you. You continued to chuckle. 

"I'd say you're about to be very close to me," Your chuckle turned into a gasp as Peter pulled down your shorts, your core now exposed to the cool air. 

Peter's body shimmied down the bed, placing his head in between your thighs. 

"That's n-not- oh- h-how babies a-are made," you gasped as his tongue began lapping up and down your slit. 

"Gotta warm ya up," was all he explained before attaching his lips to your clit. In hindsight, it wasn't a bad idea. It had been close to a week since you two were last intimate. 

The gaze of his honey-clouded eyes burned into your bare skin. He watched your face as his fingers filled you. You were beautiful as always, with your slightly parted lips and knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets. 

But today was different. It wasn't that he didn't desire you all the time, wished to be consumed by you and make a home amists tangled bedsheets. 

He just didn't think it was possible to desire you any more than he already did. 

But then he saw you look at that baby, your big eyes filled with love, adoration, and care. And then you agreed to have his child. 

He wanted to bury himself in you. 

You were teetering over the edge when he pulled himself up and away from your thighs. A whine left your lips, your hips desperately bucking up as a desperate attempt to chase some friction, some type of relief. 

"I-I know but, but if I keep going…." He shook his head as he chuckled at himself. Ironic that he was now slightly embarrassed at how close he already was to coming, considering he originally didn't want to go on a blind date with you. 

Funny how things change. 

Moans trailed past your lips, down your chin at the sensation of his hard cock slipping through your wetness. Fuck, you could hear yourself, hear how wet you were. The tip of his cock repeatedly brushed over your throbbing clit. 

"I won't last much longer," Peter finished his sentence as he pushed himself into you. 

He didn't mind the sensation of your fingernails digging into his broad shoulders. Your touch always grounded him. It was what he craved at the end of a long day, at the end of a strenuous night of patrolling. 

Peter entered you slowly, bottoming out. For several moments, the bedroom was silent, apart from your panting. Your eyes couldn't leave his. It felt like your first time again, how neither one of you seemed to want to make the first move. But not out of hesitation, not out of fear of making a mistake. 

You wanted to savor the moment. But you also wanted him to consume you. 

So, you reached a hand up to push several strands of hair out his eyes, allowing him to see your reassuring nod. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in. 

The bedroom began to be filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, your moans blending with his heavy panting. 

Fuck you were gorgeous with your head thrown back against the pillow, back arched. It wasn't the first time he had seen such a sight. He had even taken a picture of it before, the polaroid tucked away in his wallet. 

It was the fact that Peter was going to come inside you, without anything to prevent himself from filling you up. Chances were low you'd get pregnant right away, unless there was something new he was about to learn regarding the effects of a radioactive spider bite. 

But it could happen, the fact that you two would continue trying to make it happen, drove him absolutely wild. 

"Gonna fill you up real good, 'kay?" You nodded, the corners of your vision beginning to blur from the intense pleasure. 

"Yeah? Is that what you want? To be full of me?" 

The edge was getting closer and closer, making it difficult for you to form a coherent response. 

"You wanna what?" Peter asked as one of his hands snaked down to where your two bodies met. 

"W-wanna….I wanna…." His thrusts were getting harder, more purposeful. The circles he was tracing on your clit added to the pleasure he was submerging you in. 

"Use your words pretty girl," He cooed, "C'mon, you can do it." 

"W-wanna make you a Daddy." It was now Peter's turn to widen his eyes at your words. For a brief moment, his hips stilled. 

Then they picked back up again, this time with a determined force. 

"Come. Now. Come right fucking now," He grunted. 

Peter was a lot of things, and sometimes that was dominant in the bedroom. But he had never ordered you like that. 

"You heard me. Want you to make a mess on my cock before I fill ya up." He lifted up your legs, pinning them to his hips. The new position allowed him to fuck you even deeper, pushing you over. 

You were incoherent as you came, only whines mixed with slurred chants of his name leaving your mouth. Peter followed quickly behind you; it had been tortured not having sex with you or masturbating for nearly a week, but he knew it would be worth it. 

When your eyes opened, your knees were now pressed to your chest, Peter thrusting into you. 

Fuck, had he not come yet? No, that was impossible. He had. You remember the feeling of warmth spreading through you, his hips stuttering, the raspy goans he let out- the telltale sign of him coming. 

He had come, and by how full you felt, quite a bit. 

Fuck.

Peter felt your eyes boring into his skin. Part of him felt guilty for not feeling guilty about continuing to fuck you. 

But you just felt so good coming around his cock. And even though it was far from the first time he came inside you, it felt so much better now, now that he knew you wanted him to fill you up, you wanted his cum to take. 

Peter needed it to take, it was an overwhelming desire he now had. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, stomach round and your tits full. Thoughts of you holding a baby that had his eyes and your hair. Thoughts of a little one running around the place. 

Your lips were engulfed in a sloppy kiss, jolts of pleasure lighting up your body with each thrust. His body pressed your hips further into the pillow he had placed underneath. 

"Gotta make sure n-nothin comes out," he explained in between kisses, his voice breathless. 

All you could do was nod and cling onto him. You were entirely at his mercy and it thrilled you. Maybe in hindsight you should be concerned about how your husband seemed downright feral for you. Maybe you should reflect upon how much you enjoyed it in your next therapy session. 

Lots of maybes. But for once, you weren't concerned about them. They weren't creeping into your brain, slowly but surely taking over your thoughts until it consumed you. 

You were in a good place. You had a steady job that you enjoyed at least half of the time, depending on the day. You had a roof over your head. You were with someone who loved you, all parts of you. 

This was what safety felt like. This was security. 

"I love you," you whispered so softly, you were surprised he was able to hear it. 

"Love you too," He pressed another kiss ro your lips, "You're gonna look s'pretty, full of me." 

That mouth of his was going to be the death of you. 

"Y'gonna be such a good mama too," the sweet words were a stark contrast to his sharp thrusts. 

You wanted to praise him, to give him words of encouragement. But all you could was just nod your head as he continued to thrust into you. The only sounds that came out of you were pathetic whines as he continued thrusting into you. 

Peter loved how your whines increased in pitch as his cock brushed against that sweet spot over and over. A near scowl formed as he saw you bury your head into the pillow. 

"What's the matter? Don't want the neighbors to hear how badly you want me to put a baby in ya?" 

You clenched at his words, eliciting a groan from Peter that was so guttural, your legs began to shake. 

Every little reaction your body had to him only pushed Peter forward. The coil in your stomach was tightening. Peter knew you were close, your teeth always dug into your bottom lip, your hands desperately clinging onto any part of him you could reach. 

"C'mon bug, n-need ya to make a mess on Daddy's cock," He said before sinking his teeth into your neck. 

His words, combined with the sudden pain of his teeth digging into your, drove you over that sweet edge. He was the ocean, pushing and pulling you under. Just when you thought you had reached the surface, you were pulled back in by his long fingers stroking your clit, prolonging your pleasure.

Peter only lasted a few more thrusts before he came inside you again. You felt spent, unable to move. 

He acted quickly, pulling out of you and quickly replacing his cock with his fingers. 

Peter's name came out as a strangled moan when you felt his fingers curl inside you. 

"I know, it's sensitive," He moved his body down until he was in-between your legs, "But I'd hate for any drop to go to waste." 

Your hands latched onto his hair as he closed his mouth around your clit. It was too much: your previous orgasms, Peter's current goal of keeping you full of him. 

Overstimulation was kicking in, causing you to throw your head back. Your thighs wrapped around his head, your body going against what your brain was saying. 

He fucked his cum back into you with his fingers, his tongue lapping at your swollen bundle of nerves. Peter grinded his hips into the mattress. He couldn't help it, you sounded so pretty when you chanted his name like that. 

"Just one more, give me one more, 'kay Bug?" He said in response to your desperate whines. 

Your next orgasm was intense, your walls squeezing Peter's fingers so tightly that you were surprised they were still able to move. 

Your head rested against the pillow, the room filled with nothing but heavy panting. The bed creaked as Peter's body moved. 

Suddenly, your back was no longer touching the mattress. Instead, you felt the cool air touching your skin, your head spinning from the sudden movement. 

Peter's hands gripped your hips, holding you above his. A gasp escaped your lips upon feeling his cock slip through your folds. 

The ache you felt as his cock entered you was familiar and warm. When you looked up, it was the first time you noticed that his eyes had darkened, almost black. 

He looked hungry. 

"I got ya, just hold onto me." Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as he thrusted into you. 

Pleasure quickly overtook the pain. Peter was memorizing with his head thrown back, kiss swollen lips parted. His hands gripped your hips, driving you down on his cock. 

God, you could stare at him for hours. 

"H-how do y-you still have anything left?" You asked, breathless. 

Peter let out a low chuckle, "Didn't jack off for a week. Been savin' up for ya." 

Fuck. He had been planning this, planning to fuck you until you were reduced to nothing but broken whines and grabby hands. 

And his plan was working. 

You slouched over, your head hovering above his broad chest. The room felt hazy. It took everything in you to focus on Peter's chest, the smattering of hairs, freckles, and moles. His skin grounded you, having physical proof that he was safe and here with you, that he wasn't still out on patrol and you were just imagining scenarios to calm yourself. 

You rocked your hips forward, grinding against his. The movement earned a lewd groan from your husband, one of his hands trailing up from your hips to clutch at your chest. 

Peter was trying to hold out, was trying to be respectful and a considerate husband. But when your lips attached themselves to his neck, your teeth sinking into his flesh, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

He bent his knees, allowing him to thrust into you while his other hand snaked up to your throat. 

"Touch yourself," he groaned, looking up at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world. Like he was looking up at a piece of artwork in The Louvre, and not you. 

But that was one of Peter's habits that you fell in love with. He made you feel special, made you feel worthy enough. Made all the self doubt you held wash away in moments like these. 

So you listened to him, a hand reaching down to where your two bodies met. 

The pleasure ebbed and flowed into and out of sensitivity. Your walls clenched around his cock, pushing him closer. 

Peter tried, he really did. But you felt so divine, so transcendent, he couldn't help it. He threw his head back as he came, slamming your hips down against his as he emptied inside of you. 

The sensation of feeling him come inside, combined with how full you felt, pushed you over. You slumped forward, your head resting on his chest. 

Peter's hands remained on your hips, pinning them to his. 

"Just stay there baby. Soak me up." You nodded your head weakly at his words. It wasn't like you could move, given the grip he had on your body. 

The two of you laid there in bed, your hearts racing. Once he realized you wouldn't move (you were far too spent), Peter's hands trailed up to your back, drawing comforting circles. 

After a while, he wrapped his arms around you and gently switched positions, your back now against the mattress. You hissed as he pulled out. 

"B-break," you mumbled. 

"I got ya," He whispered in between pressing feather-like kisses across your forehead and temple.

"You think it took?" Peter asked after a few moments of silence. 

You couldn't help but giggle, "Can't your Spidey sense tell?" 

Peter moved down, pressing his ear against your stomach as if it were a shell from the ocean. 

"Can't hear anything, guess we gotta try again," he smirked. 

"You seem really broken up about it," you deadpanned. Peter's face broke out onto a grin. 

"Darn," His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he even snapped his fingers for added effect. 

"What happened to wanting it to take the first time?" 

Peter shrugged, "I mean, I still want to put a baby in you sooner rather than later, but…figured it would be fun to try for a little bit." 

Your fingers ran through Peter's hair, trailing down to his bearded cheek, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you're insatiable." 

Peter's lips formed a mischievous smirk before they began nipping at your neck, making its way up to your jawline. 

"Maybe you can help me?" He asked, his breath hot on your ear. 

"I need a break, I don't have a super short recovery time due to a radioactive spider bite." You looked into his eyes, hoping your pout would be intimidating, or show your annoyance. 

Instead, Peter laughed at your adorable expression. His eyes looked over your features as his fingers brushed against your cheek. 

"I hope they get your nose," He said before placing a kiss to it. The comment brought warmth to your face and body. 

"I hope they get your hair. And eyes." 

Peter shook his head, "You have way better eyes."

"You have kind eyes. I want our kids to be kind," you admitted, your fingers gently threading through his hair. 

"They will be," Peter pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "Because you're their Mom, the kindest person I know." 

"They also have you as their dad." 

Peter didn't respond, focusing on tracing your features with his long fingers. 

"I still want them to have your eyes," He admitted, a sheepish smile overtaking his face.

You rolled your eyes, "Can you use your Spidey sense to tell them that?" 

Peter laughed, nuzzling his nose against yours, "Guess I'll have to wait until they can hear noises and recognize voices." 

And he did. When you showed him the positive pregnancy test six months later, he talked to your growing bump every night. Sometimes he told stories, sometimes he whispered dreams and hopes. But always, he managed to make a reference about how your child needed to ensure that they had your eyes. 

In true Parker fashion, Benjamin Richard Parker was born with honey-casted eyes, just like his father.

[berrieluv]

could u write a fic where peter and reader r having sex and he s rly rough but at some point he hurts her bc of his powers he got after the spider bite? and then he just takes care of her and its cute n soft <3333

Peter Parker x fem!Reader

cw. mentions of sex.

It didn't start as it usually did. Peter seemed eager, in a way he always is, but he's usually soft, gentle, your skin could burn for the way his body craved you.

Now it was burning because of his not so gentle touch. His fingers were now marked on your hips and his movements were faster, rougher.

You were enjoying yourself at the beginning, you really were. You liked this animalistic side of Peter, you liked the way he entered your through your room door, he tossed his backpack to the floor and got rid of his jacket, his glasses ended on your desk and now you were here.

Reaching what you thought was your third orgasm of the night? You couldn't keep track of it, not when your body was shaking and your pussy aching. Peter was usually good reading you, he knew when you wanted something and when you don't.

"Peter?"

You tried calling him, you wanted to tell you that the tears weren't from the pleasure, you wanted him to understand that the way that he called you a 'whore' made you so sad. You definitely weren't in the mood for any of this.

"Peter..."

You stay quiet for a few minutes until you felt him pulling out, you felt a weird relief, it was when he broke back that you felt you had enough.

You flinched at his touch, you pushed him away with your hands and pushed him further with your legs, he looked at you confused and he started to feel the guilt eating him alive when he saw your face.

"Baby..." You look at him, waiting for him to talk. You weren't mad at him, he may misread you but it wasn't like he purposely ignored your wishes. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You wanted to talk, to tell him what was wrong, that it was too much, he was too rough, he went too far.

"When did you get so strong?"

Of course the last thing you wanted was to make him feel bad, so you tried a subtly way. Peter froze, because he knew why he was rough, everything seemed to be too much, being Spider-Man, school, his only safe place in a whole city was you and he just wanted to forget.

He didn't address the question, instead he answered with another one;

"Did I hurt you?"

You nod slowly and watch as his face decomposes. He looks so sad and you feel so guilty, he just wanted to have a good time with you, with his girlfriend, and you were ruining everything.

"I'm sorry" you say first and he frowns.

"Sorry? Baby, no, I– I'm sorry, I'm the one who's sorry, I hurt you and I– God, I don't think I could ever forgive myself... I– " He opened his arms and you smiled lightly, finding your way to his chest "I'm usually so good at knowing when you want thing"

"It was one time"

"Never again, baby" He kisses your head "I'll be double checking on anything, and I swear... anything"

"S'alright, Pete"

"Kissie?"

[reverieblondie]

Neighbors

Chapter 4: Via the Window

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Eludes to voyeurism kink but nothing explicit.

Summary: It's time you thank Spider-Man properly...

A/N: I hope you enjoy the update! Hoping to get these out more frequently!

Word Count: 2,392

‘If I shut my blinds you won’t know where to come get your thank you.’

‘Thank me how’?

‘Come by Monday night and find out?’

‘I will swing by then’ 

Your Sunday has been spent in two ways. One you had taken the time to get ready for your first week of school. Write out your schedule and figure out what buildings your classes would be in. Best to prepare for your first day to eliminate any surprises that could occur. Two, and far more nerve-wracking; you kept talking with Spider-Man through notes via your window. At the time leaving notes and checking every few hours for a new message from your pen pal was an exciting experience. It was a thrill to get a new message when you weren't even able to catch a glimpse of him! How could he even be that sneaky? 

Well now it’s Monday and you're having to reflect on your messages…

You said you wanted to thank him, but now that it's Monday you find yourself playing with the last note he left you. You're still trying to wrack your brain for ideas, but you can’t sit and stir forever. You have a big day ahead! As you're getting ready to leave for school you're double, triple checking that you have your things and that you look decent. Going from the living room to your bedroom, back to the living room to the bathroom like a madman. Once you scramble into the kitchen to make a bottle of water, it clicks. Turning towards your admittedly out-of-date oven the brilliant idea hits, cookies! 

Who doesn’t like cookies? Maybe it's a bit old-fashioned or maybe he doesn’t like sweets, but it's the thought that counts right? Just a nice thankful gesture right? Well, there are other thankful gestures you could do for him…But you quickly shake away the thought, you don’t even really know him best not to cross any boundaries; not yet at least. 

Getting your mind off of…activities you check your phone and see that you need to leave, don’t want to risk being late on your first day. Doing one last run you check yourself and your things. Before you exit your apartment you find yourself going to your window on pure impose, checking it one last time before you leave. A part of you wishes you would see him swinging by like he's checking on you but you know you won’t catch him. 

Walking out of your apartment you look over to Peter's apartment. You haven’t seen him since your moment together in the laundry room. Admittedly you take your time locking your door for the off chance Peter would be leaving his apartment at the same time as you. Though you quickly come to find that your day is not going to start with seeing a brave hero or your annoyingly cute neighbor, that's not going to be a damper on your day. Walking to school making sure to stay out of the bike lane you open your phone and start looking up cookie recipes. 

As expected the first day of classes was nothing more than a lot of info dumping about the class and all the materials needed to be successful in the class. Yes, it is easy to just sit and listen but that doesn’t mean it's any less tiring to have to go through. Taking a stretch you feel your muscles stretch and hear your bones softly popping. Just have to go to the store then you can get your little thank you gift for spidy going. The thought of seeing him leaves a giddy feeling to swell in your stomach. But that is soon interrupted when you see a familiar face walking past. 

Well, well if it isn't your odd neighbor, of course he didn’t mention you two go to the same university, typical…

“Peter!”, you call out

In an instant, he's stopping and turning to meet your eyes with a somewhat surprised look on his face, though there is a slight hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. You quickly approach him making your way past the swarm of other exhausted college students. 

“You know this is starting to get a bit frequent, first the elevator, then the laundry room, now here. Are you following me?” He teases with an annoyingly adorable smile. 

“Yeah, if I’m going to stalk anyone it would be a celebrity, not my random neighbor.” 

“You would stalk someone? Bad girl…” 

The teasing nickname sends a rush over your spine but you must resist, he's insufferable…and adorable…dammit. 

Ignoring the comment you kept the conversation moving, “You know most people mention if they go to the same school as someone else they know.”

He shrugs, “True, but that kills the fun of you having to figure it out.”

“Oh, so fun Pete” 

“You're welcome. Are you done for the day?” 

“Yeah, I was heading home, well going to go to the store then home.” 

Peter smiles as he adjusts his backpack, “I was also heading home, you want some company for the trip?” - Well isn't this a friendly change? 

“Sure.”

Now you have eggs and sugar, but chocolate chips, flour, brown sugar, and vanilla extract you need to buy. Just to find them is the issue, this store Peter took you to is different from the one you have started to get accustomed to. Peters runs off to grab something, leaving you to wander down the aisles by yourself, so much for his company... 

As you browse down the aisle something catches your eye and it's staring in your direction. Two men seem to be whispering and glancing in your direction. You turn to see if they are looking behind you but nothing seems to be odd enough to catch any attention. Facing them again you see they have slid closer and you're starting to feel nervous that it may be you that is catching their attention, but why? 

Is there something on your face? Are they staring at your basket? Are you doing something wrong? You're starting to become uneasy as you do your best to just ignore them. They are whispering amongst themselves and you just keep your eyes forward, just ignore them, and let them walk past you. 

As the men start to walk in your direction a sudden warmth then wraps around you for a second you're frightened but as you look to see who has their arm wrapped around you you see Peter's striking profile. 

“There you are, did you find all the ingredients?” 

You look at him confused and he just winks before holding you tighter, sliding his hands to hold you in a hug as his chin rests on your shoulder. The feeling sends a rush down your spine. It's all so quick and confusing, why is he holding you? Did he see you were nervous? Turning you see Peter staring at the two men who had been approaching you up. But now seeing that Peter is with you they quickly scurry away. 

Once they are gone Peter's warmth leaves you and there is a zipping of your bag and things start to click.  

With a smirk, Peter ruffles your hair and you glare at him. 

“You need to pay attention before you get pickpocketed.”

Swatting away his hands he smiles before grabbing your basket and heading towards the register. You bite back a smile and take a second to fix your hair before following him. 

“You know I could have carried my bags” 

“No, no, it's fine. If my aunt May found out I walked home with someone without helping with the groceries I might just get disowned.” 

“Oh? Is that where you learned to be so chivalrous?” you say mockingly as you unlock your door. 

After a little effort with the old lock, you get the door open and gesture for Peter to step in. As he steps inside and you see him looking around you realize he's the first guest you have had in your apartment. Taking the groceries from him you start putting away things you don’t need and taking out the things you do. 

“You keep staring around at the place, are you not impressed by my decorating skills?” 

“Actually smarty pants, I am impressed, might need you to come over and help me with my place. You even managed to get the mildew smell out.” 

You smile then turn on your oven with a turn to the old dial, “I charge by the hour and am very bossy. I will warn you” 

Peter's eyes flash with mischief, “I wouldn't mind that…” 

Folding your arms over your chest you look at him confused, is he flirting? Peter's confidence starts to falter as he rubs the back of his neck trying to ignore the budding tension in the small kitchen. Looking at your counter he sees all the ingredients out. 

“Making something?” -smooth change the subject

“I am, just some cookies for a…Friend?” that is technically what you are doing…but can you call Spider-man a friend? You two are friendly but friends? Before you can get wrapped up in thought Peter is speaking up. 

“Friend? Judging from how you say it, I assume you two are very close.”

Start to take out your measuring cups and recipe. You roll your eyes at him, “He's a new friend, well acquaintance…”

Peter eyes your hands as you start to place everything down. His eyes on you are starting to make you slightly nervous…but in a good way…where it feels like a rush, “I'm an acquaintance and neighbor.”

“Well, he helped me with something.”

“Um, I carried your groceries and took care of a spider for you.”

“I thought you were carrying my groceries so you wouldn't be disowned, and if I recall you called me dramatic about the spider.” 

Peter thinks for a moment before snapping his fingers, “Playful banter between friends.” 

Wow, he wants cookies. Letting out a sigh you look at his smirking face trying not to smile. “Do you like chocolate chip?” 

“That's my favorite.” -of course it is…

Peter then gives you one more smile before grabbing his bag to leave. “Well, I will leave you to it. Thank you.” 

“Oh get cookies then leave?” 

“I have a deadline, unfortunately, those spider-man pictures won’t edit themselves” 

The mention of the hero's name causes you to perk up, as Peter is heading towards the door you muster up the courage to ask him about it. “Do you think maybe I could see some of your pictures sometime?” 

Peter adjusted his bag on his shoulder opening the door, “Bring the cookies and you can look through all my photos. Later.” 

Carefully you tie a neat blue bow on the bag to make sure it stays closed. Finally, you got the cookies done and to your credit, they are probably the best cookies you have ever made. Thank you internet for all the baking tips! 

Looking out the window you see it is very late and it's time to get ready for bed after all your hard work. Stepping into your room you go to shut the curtains so you can get changed, but as you go to shut the curtains you have a stray thought…what if he's watching out there…swallowing your dry throat you keep the curtain open and turn your back to your window. He said he would be by later… it's later… 

With trembling hands, you lift your shirt over your head dropping it to the floor as you shake your hair out. 

Is he out there…

Sliding your hands down your body you start undoing your pants slowly, your body feels hot and you can feel your face flushing to a bright red as you strip down to your underwear, closing your eyes you go to slide down your panties. 

The thought of his gloved hands roaming across your skin, the feeling of his weight and warmth pushed against you, stomach tying into knots and with a deep breath you open your eyes looking over your shoulder, and you see…

Nothing…

Whipping your hand down your face you quickly grab your pajamas and put them on. What were you doing stripping like he would be watching…Ugh, that is so embarrassing! You don’t know him and here you are getting horny like a fangirl, get a grip on yourself! You need to start meeting more people so you stop fantasizing about superheroes… maybe Peter has friends…or maybe Peter…

No! Not crossing that line, he's the only person you know in this city you can’t go mucking that up! No way! Off limits! 

Walking to the kitchen you look at the two bags of cookies, Peters you will drop off tomorrow. A smile stretches to your lips, you two have become something akin to friends. It's a relief to have him not hate your guts still snarky though…but funny. Maybe you will run into him at school again…

Turning to the other back you feel your heart race increase, Spidys cookies… You hope that he enjoys these. There is the chance he might find this as a lame gift, you can only imagine what kinds of gifts he receives after saving people. Have others made him treats? Giving him money? Presents? Something else…would he want that…You swallow your dry throat and quickly write a note attaching it to the bag to keep your mind busy. 

Do spiders enjoy sweets? - you include a doodle of a spider seemingly eating a cookie. 

Hopefully, he likes them and isn’t disappointed by the thank you. 

Walking over and opening the window there is a slight breeze that sends a chill through you. You wish you could leave the window open tonight to enjoy the breeze but you know better. Placing the bag of treats on the window seal you adjust the note and the bow so they look perfectly placed. Once set you look out into the glimmering lights of the city taking in the breeze, the sights, the noises, but that's when you hear a clearing of a throat. Looking up you see that iconic mask, body clinging to the wall as he looks down at you. 

“You have a thank you for me?” his voice coos

You forget all about your cookies…

Tags:

@huesdreamhouse @keiva1000 @spdrwdw @betizda @lunablackcosplay @juliluvhz @avareadsthings @xxrougefangxx @briviny @llpovi @beautyb1ade @lulawantmula @kikieatshomophobes

[lanadelreyscokewhor3]

boyfriend! peter thoughts bc i need to talk about it like now

-always sitting on his lap. always. whenever you’re in his room and he’s at his desk doing work he pats his knee and you trot over and sit on his knee and he bounces it slightly while he explains his work while you just listen and nod

- takes photos of you 24/7 and sticks them up all over his room. he also has a polaroid camera where he takes dirty photos of you and looks at them while he jerks off

-builds lego sets with you and keeps the extra pieces at the end of the build to make something else for you out of the spares

-whenever you get anxious or overwhelmed he shields you from the world, answering questions for you, calming you down, ordering for you etc

- he is always playing with your hair or jewelry or some part of you he can reach and admire. also a reason to smell your perfume 

-im getting a weird feeling about gummy worms. like he always has some? just on him to randomly pull out and munch on? his fav are the yellow and red

-you often stand on his toes to kiss him bc hes reallyyy tall

-he always guides you through sex. always. coaxing you through things, checking in on you. i have a feeling he cooes at you a lot, that faux pity voice that drives me wild. 

-when he drives you places he has a hand on your thigh, on your headrest when hes backing up and he always has an old radio station that no one cares about but he does for some reason

-really into bondage. or that whole helplessness thing. knowing youre so fragile and vulnerable with him drives him wild bc he feels like he can corrupt you

-so supportive. even if its kinda from a distance, like maybe hes not the loudest one clapping bc he is kinda introverted, he always shows up to your events and supports you/ gives you so many pep talks about how awesome you are

- likes head scratches and when you nibble on his fingers

- teaches you video games without mansplaining things and then lets you teach him your interests 

[reidslovely]

Frat! Peter who basically kicks you out after doing the due but things shift a little bit and he’s warming up to you right? So after sex they talk a little bit and that’s when reader gets up to put her clothes back on, and Peters like “🤨 the fuck are you doing? We were talking” and readers like “:0 oh” and gets back in bed for a cuddle (and maybe they fall asleep together)

Idk idk. I was the one who requested the Toxic! Peter ask a while back, so if you couldn’t tell this was another maladaptive daydream scenario :D. Have a good day

eeeeeee hehehe i love this *giggles and twirls hair* okay so..

instead of liking/hearting this post leave a comment or reblog!!

“Has the sun gone down already? Fuck Emma is gonna lose her mind.”

 You rushed out, your body moving just as fast as the words falling out of your mouth. Your clothes had been scattered around the floor: shirt tossed onto the footboard of Peter’s bed, your underwear even tossed onto the open windowsill. You were sure you would get all kind of comments from Peter’s brothers. 

Reality was Emma, your roommate, wouldn’t care where you were. She never expected you to come home after hanging out with Peter, but you always did. You just liked to use Emma as an excuse to end your hook up with Peter as easily as possible. You wanted to stay, trust you wanted to stay. However, Peter was clear his room was his space and you were not wanted in his space unless explicitly stated. It took you a couple weeks to catch on, after trying to cuddle with him multiple nights in a row failed you figured you’d save your ego from another bruising and leave before he could ask. 

“You don’t wanna hear the rest of my story?”

There was a fragility to his voice he looked up at you with his big doe eyes, and you swallowed your pride. “I didn’t even get to the good part, you didn’t even answer my question about how your day was. You can’t leave yet. I won’t allow it.”

His hand reached out and grabbed your hip, the skin where he grabbed going warm. You swallowed what was remaining of your pride and grabbed his wrist. 

“But your rule.” You whisper in return, thumb stroking the underside of his wrist. 

“Fuck the rule. I want you, in my bed, where it’s warm and you aren’t walking away from my conversation. Now get your ass back in here.” 

“Oh..” Was all that you could manage out, crawling back into the soft gray sheets. Your legs intertwining with his, head laying against his arm. 

“Now I’ll finish my story after you tell me how your psych test went.”

You smiled and started recounting your day following up to and after the psych test, even mentioning how you forgetting to turn your phone off during the test and Peter calling you almost costed you your grade. 

You listen to the rest of his story about how he, Miles, and Harry had been trying to get everything together for the party this weekend and Miles got his fake I.D. taken away. You smiled adding commentary here and there, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence besides the soft mumble of the sitcom on the TV. It wasn’t long before either of you were asleep.

The next morning you woke up to Peter turning off your alarm, his lips pressing to your forehead mumbling something. The weight of the mattress shifted as he got up and walked to the bathroom. You tucked your head under the pillow listening to the shower turn on. 

“Come on bashful, get up. Shower and we gotta get to class.” 

You smile as you peek out from under the pillow, maybe waking up in the Theta Tau house isn’t so bad after all.

___

taglist: @helloheyhihowdyheya @sincericida @moonyslove78 @a-lumos-in-the-nox @messymissy @adhdhufflepuff @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @ateliefloresdaprimavera @eevylynn

[blooming-violets]

For Inexperienced Smut Prompts

“I can’t believe you’re this innocent…”

With Andrew! Peter Parker x reader ❤️❤️❤️ !!!!!!

Not So Innocent || Inexperienced Smut Prompts

[tasm!Peter Parker x fem!virgin!reader]

Warnings: Alcohol use and depictions of being intoxicated, a lot of dry humping and fingering

A/N: I changed the quote just a tiny bit to “I didn’t know you were so innocent" because it fit better. Same vibes though.

You weren’t used to being dragged along to parties, especially one’s held in a large penthouse overlooking the city. The host of the party was a friend of a friend of a friend. At least, that’s what your roommate said. She desperately wanted to attend with her boyfriend but was too nervous to go without you. She promised to find you a date so you wouldn’t be third wheeling despite your claims that you’d rather not attend at all. Somehow she had managed to convince you to get dolled up in clothes that weren’t your own and make an appearance. You trailed behind her and her boyfriend as the three of you walked out onto the wrap around terrace. 

The night air was warm and the sounds of the heavy bass booming out of the speakers reverberated inside your heart. You couldn’t even make out what music was playing; it was too loud. You scrunched up your face in distaste, fidgeting with the bottom of the short skirt of your dress, and pushing your way next to your friend. 

“Is this really worth it?” You shouted over to her. 

She either couldn’t hear you over the noise or was choosing to ignore you, “Look! Over there!” 

She grabbed your hand and dragged you over to an elegant, glass table in the middle of the terrace. It was completely covered with different types of alcohol. You weren’t really educated well enough to be able to tell the difference between them all. She poured you something clear and shoved the cup into your hand. 

“Drink this!” She practically forced you to tilt the cup to your lips and held her hand under the bottom while you drained the contents. 

You were sputtering and gagging by the time it was finished, “That was horrible!”” 

“I know, it was pure vodka,” she laughed. “But it will get you loosened up.”

You felt like vomiting. She poured you something else. 

Her boyfriend leaned between the two of you to point over at someone. “Matty is over there. Why don’t you go talk to him?” 

You turned to see where he was pointing. Matt was the guy who was supposed to be your date tonight. He played college football with your roommate's boyfriend. You gave an unenthusiastic smile. That was supposed to be your cue to leave the two of them alone so they could enjoy their night as a couple. You weren’t sure what the point of your coming was. It wasn’t like your friend was planning on actually spending time with you. 

You reluctantly made your way over to Matt and gave him an awkward wave, “You’re Matt, right?” 

He nodded, “Yeah. My friend’s call me Matty, though.” 

“Great,” you replied. You weren’t a friend so you thought you’d stick with Matt. “Uhm, nice to meet you, I guess.” 

He looked you over, overtly eyeing up and down your body. You curled into yourself under his gaze and quickly started drinking whatever was in your cup. It tasted like bleach and lime. You did your very best not to make a face of disgust and keep drinking. 

“You’re supposed to be my date then?” He asked. 

“I guess,” you shuffled the toe of your foot against the ground. “Do you-”

He cut you off, “I was told you were really hot.” 

You laughed at that. It was a self deprecating, uncomfortable laugh. He was already heavily intoxicated, swaying on his feet. You wanted to go home. The forced smile faded from your face as you turned your sights to look out over the city. 

“Sorry to disappoint you,” you stated, feeling like shit. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him shrug, “Nah man. It’s cool. You’re still hot but, like, a prudish kind of hot. Like how the pastor’s daughter is always smokin’ hot but you know she’d never actually go down on you, so you don’t even try to bark up that tree, ‘cause it leads nowhere. Not really fuckable, ya feel me?” 

You didn’t feel him. You felt insulted for some reason. As if being called unfuckable by a drunk stranger was the worst thing you could ever be called. Matt was clearly looking for one thing tonight. He wanted someone easy. He took one look at you, uncomfortable in your roommates clothes, and could instantly tell you weren’t that kind of girl. She could dress you up but she couldn’t change your personality. You were self-conscious and fidgety. Even this dumb jock could see that. Before you could reply, Matt’s attention got pulled away by a group of giggling girls throwing heart eyes at him. He didn’t say a word as he stumbled away, already forgetting your entire existence. 

And, just like that, you were left alone at a party you didn’t want to be at. 

You finished the drink in your hand despite wanting to gag every time it touched your lips. You were already starting to feel the effects of the two drinks. You had never drank in your life so it didn’t take much to make you feel funny. Your skin sort of felt tingly and your thoughts were slow and lazy. Even though you were left on your own, you felt a sudden rush of happiness pushing away the shame. The music was starting to sound less terrible, too. It made you want to dance. You were beginning to feel invincible. Confident. Matty could go fuck himself. You were totally fuckable. You were hot. This dress was super sexy and slutty and short and you were an absolute babe with it on. You could do anything you wanted. You felt like if you stood up on these rooftop railings and jumped, you would simply sore away into the sky like a bird. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

A vaguely familiar voice popped up behind you before you had time to test your theory of flight. 

You turned around to come face to face with Peter Parker. He was your lab partner for biology. You two usually only ever spoke about class related topics but it was still nice to see a familiar face. You always found him to be very sweet. 

“I wouldn’t expect to see you here, either,” you responded with a big smile. 

Peter laughed, “I guess us nerds don’t usually get invited to rich people’s rooftop parties.” Once the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, afraid that he offended you. He quickly added, “Not that I think you don’t belong here! Or that you’re a nerd. You’re very pretty. Not that nerds can’t be attractive. That’s just a dumb stereotype. I think you’re really smart and you have a nice smile and you look really pretty tonight. Not that you don’t look pretty other days. And not that it matters what you look like. Or…well…I mean…I don’t remember what I was originally talking about…I think I’m drunk.”

The crimson blushing over his cheeks was incredibly endearing. You found yourself leaning in closer. You knew he was always handsome but, tonight, he looked beautiful. Radiant. Mesmerizing. 

You think you might be a little drunk, too. That first cup your friend made you chug was causing your thoughts to swim. The second cup only sealed the deal. 

“Thank you!” It was all that needed to be said. Also, because you sort of forgot what he was saying, too. You got distracted by the way his lips formed each word. They were lovely lips to look at. “I think…” 

His blush deepened and he hid behind the beer bottle in his hand as finished off the contents, “Do, uh, do you want to dance? With me, I mean. Or by yourself is fine too but I’d hope it was with me. That’s why I’m asking. For your hand. Not in marriage! To dance with.” 

You weren’t a dancer but you didn’t think Peter was either. That made you feel more confident in accepting his offer. 

“Okay,” you nodded, laughing at how he managed to out awkward you. 

He took the cup from your hands and put it onto the first table he saw along with his own empty beer. Then, he took your hand and pulled you inside, onto the dance floor that had been set up in the living room cleared of furniture. The feeling of your hand in his, the way he easily maneuvered you through the crowd, sent an excited, pulsating electricity shooting up your spine. Peter found a nice spot off to the edge of the crowd. There, you two could still enjoy the energy without being trampled on by all the sweaty bodies. 

An unspoken tension settled in the air between you and Peter. You were drawn to him. Captivated by him. You’d often spend the two hours of your lab huddled up close to his face while sharing a microscope but this felt different. Stronger. You couldn’t stop staring at the way his body moved. It might be the alcohol talking but he seemed to have a natural flow to his movements. You felt in sync with him. Your eyes shamelessly traveled down his body, much like Matt had done to you earlier. Only instead of feeling nervous like you had, Peter merely smirked, the smile flashing over his lips. Without his usual oversized sweatshirt, you could easily make out the strong muscles of his biceps as they pulled the sleeves of his t-shirt tight against his arms. You would have never guessed he was hiding those under there. 

You got lost in the music, loving it a million times more than when you first entered the party. You were moving, swaying, and bouncing along to the beat. Peter was right there with you like he was reading your mind, or reading your body, able to anticipate which way you were swaying and following your lead. The rest of the party faded around you as your eyes locked with Peter’s. It was just the two of you and the unfamiliar sensual tension clouding the air, growing thicker with each passing second. 

You were not a prude. You were not the preacher’s daughter. Matt could go fuck himself. He had no idea what you were like. All he did was take one look at you and thrust his own narrative on your shoulders. Yeah, maybe you were still a virgin, but you gave a guy a blow job. Once. In your senior year of high school. That qualifies you to be a part of a Non-Prude Club. Fucking Matty, that piece of shit. A big giant turd. That’s what he was. His brain had probably been hit one too many times during football anyway. You didn’t even think he was that attractive. Maybe he was the one who wasn’t fuckable? You bet he never thought of that!

Peter didn’t think you were a prude. He thought you were pretty and he wanted to dance with you. That means…well, it doesn’t mean much, but your vodka fueled brain was trying to connect some kind of dots together. Peter wanted to fuck you. That was probably it. Or maybe that was Matt who wanted to do that. Not Peter. You were getting them confused. 

No, no, Matt didn’t want to fuck you. Or he did but he didn’t think you would let him. 

And he was right. You wouldn’t have let him. He was kind of gross. 

But, Peter…

“Am I fuckable?”

His eyes widened, “Excuse me?”

“What?” Did you say that out loud? Shit. “I didn’t say anything!” 

His smile grew. He leaned down to speak directly into your ear, “Yes. You are.” 

Heat flooded your face. Holy shit. A nervous, intoxicated laugh tumbled from your lips. The song changed to a new track and your eyes lit up. 

“I know this one!” You excitedly bounced on the balls of your feet. 

“Everyone knows Britney Spears,” Peter laughed at your enthusiasm as I’m a Slave 4 U blasted out the speakers. 

Someone bumped into you from behind and sent you tumbling into Peter’s chest. He steadied you back onto your feet. Instead of moving away, you embraced the closeness, feeling bold, and wrapping your arms around his neck. His eyebrows raised, slightly taken off guard, but he quickly settled his hands comfortably around your waist. The electricity in the air heightened. You wanted Peter to touch you forever. There was not a single other person in this party except for him. You smiled up at him through hazy eyes. 

“I never drank alcohol before tonight,” you confessed. Something in his eyes felt safe, like you could tell him all your secrets and he wouldn’t tell another soul. He would keep you safe. A protector. “I don’t think I’m too drunk, though. I think I’m just happy. I could still totally drive a car.” 

That was a lie. You didn’t even have your license. It felt pointless when you grew up in the city. 

Peter chuckled. It was a nice sound. 

“I didn’t know you were so innocent,” he teased. “Never had a drop of anything before?”

You feigned a gasp at his comment, “I am not innocent! Why are people always assuming that about me tonight? What vibes am I giving off? My roommate told me these were some of her favorite slut clothes. Apparently they’re doing nothing to help my image.” 

“Oh, trust me, they are,” He nodded with appreciation for her tight fitting outfit. Then added, “You’re at a happy drunk level. Me too…but that might just be because you’re here with me.”

Your stomach tumbled with excited butterflies. With Britney Spears cheering you on, you pushed your body closer, brushing against his. As you swayed to her hypnotic beat, you purposely rubbed your hips into his. The moment you made contact, you felt his arousal. Solid and hard against you. 

You let out a tiny gasp, eyes widening in shock. You hadn’t been expecting that. That was because of you. You had given him that. You. Peter’s eyes had closed and his lips parted when you pushed against him. For a split second, it looked like he was going to let out a moan right there in front of everyone. His eyes shot open when he realized what was happening and a slew of slurred, bashful apologies tumbled out of him. Before he could get too embarrassed, you silenced him by repeating the movement. This time, locking eyes with him with a defiant stare, as you rubbed your pelvis over his erection as if you were daring him to stop you. 

You would show him you weren’t innocent. You would prove him wrong.

He licked his steadily drying lips and swallowed the lump in his throat. He was completely speechless, utterly in awe. This was a new side of you, one you hadn’t even known existed before tonight. A horny, needy side. It only took him until the chorus to snap out of his stunned daze. His hands traveled up your sides, curving around your waist, then traveling back down. He hovered over your butt, watching your reaction to see if you’d object. When all he got a quiet smirk urging him on, his large hands cupped your cheeks. You could feel your dress riding up your thighs as he squeezed you, bunching up the fabric. He pressed you closer, holding you tightly against his erection. You tightented your grip around his neck, smooshing your breasts against his chest, and feeling the flood of wetness rush to your core. 

I’m a slave for you. I cannot hold it, I cannot control it. I’m a slave for you. I won’t deny it, I’m not tryna hide it.

Britney was always right. You really were trying to have him dance up on you. You could not control it and you won’t deny it. Truer words had never been spoken. 

You felt weak. A good kind of weak. Like your knees might give out at any moment and your head was spinning but everything felt wonderful. A happy drunk. That’s what Peter had called it. Or a horny drunk. Maybe both. 

The more you held his gaze, the more attractive he became. You didn’t think that was possible but here you are. The flecks of sparkling light reflected off those beautiful hickory colored eyes. You were lost in them. Lost in his magnetic pull. His lips were centimeters from yours. He wanted to kiss you but he was letting you close the gap, giving you the choice. You took a shuddered breath and smashed your lips together. It might have been a little too eager and aggressive but Peter easily remedied your attack. He softened his lips and gently eased open your mouth with his tongue. The butterflies in your stomach turned to a frenzy at the feeling of his warm tongue gliding across yours. It reminded you of a dance. Much like your bodies were still pressed together and swaying to the music, your tongues were having their own party. 

When your breath became short, you carefully pulled yourself back with a dazed smile. 

Peter’s smile matched your own. The alcohol swam in vision, giving him adorable bleary eyes. He looked more relaxed than you had ever seen him. 

“Have you had your fill of dancing?” He asked once the song ended. 

You had forgotten you were even in a room full of people. You glanced around you, noticing Matt eyeing you from the other side of the room. He looked impressed, wondering if he had gotten the completely wrong impression of you. He raised his drink and winked in your direction as if to apologize for his own mistake. It made you giggle. You flipped him off with a smile. 

You turned back to Peter, the smile still lingering on your face. You were enjoying the tension between the two of you. You liked the dangerous excitement of rubbing up on Peter in the midst of a crowd. You were afraid of the moment ending if you left but your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air. 

“Let’s go back outside,” you offered. “The music is just as loud out there.”

Peter nodded in agreement. You had the feeling he would have gone anywhere you asked him to. He took your hand and tugged you towards the terrace. The entire glass wall opened up to make a seamless transition from the inside of the penthouse to the out. The night air felt cool in your throat. It helped soothe the pounding heartbeat in your chest. A coiled up excitement resided in the pit of your stomach from your adventures on the dancefloor. You wanted more. 

Peter pushed his way to the corner. It was the one place the lights failed to reach. It felt like a very purposeful spot to bring you. He turned around, leaning against the railing, and studying you with burning, passion filled eyes. His gazed forced your own downward, like he was a blazing fire, too bright and hot to stare at for too long. Except now you were now looking directly at what had been pressed against you. 

His dark, skinny jeans left little to the imagination. While the stiff material kept him from achieving his full potential, the bulging outline over his inner thigh was more than enough to get the idea of what he was working with. Truthfully, you had no idea what was considered large or small when it came to dicks. Like with alcohol, your knowledge was limited. But Peter looked quite big to you. He was clearly very excited to be in your presence. That was the nice thing about men. You could always tell when they were attracted to you. You were enjoying the power it made you feel. You felt sexy. Fuckable. 

You had been staring at it for too long. You needed to avert your eyes back to his face. 

When you finally forced your gaze back where it belonged, Peter was smirking at you. He had enjoyed watching you get lost in the sight. He liked knowing that his body was showing you how attractive he found you. He wanted you to know. It wasn’t a secret. Before you could allow yourself to be embarrassed, you twirled around, letting your skirt flare up around your thighs and started dancing again to the music. The perfect distraction. He caught you in his grasp, spinning you away from him, and then pulling you close. He was more suave than you gave him credit for. He might actually have some decent moves. 

You turned around in his hold, leaning your back against his chest. Peter’s arms naturally snaked around your waist to hold you to him. He tightened the hold so your bottom was rubbing once more against his bulge as you lazily swayed back and forth. Your dancing was more of a  gentle rubbing at this point but you didn’t mind. Whatever kept you locked to Peter was okay in your eyes. You wanted to keep him excited. 

His face leaned down, his cheek brushing against your hair, and you heard him inhale the scent of light, floral perfume. You could have sworn you felt his bulge twitch. You had to refrain from squeezing your own thighs together at the thought. Tingly, hot sensations were flooding your core. The need to thrust your hips or rub yourself on something was becoming stronger. 

You swore Peter could sense the subtle change in your breath because, as if he knew how aroused you were getting, his hands started to travel. They slid down your thighs until they reached the bottom of your dress, gliding the material through his fingers. 

“I’ve never seen you wear a dress like this before,” he breathed, voice ragged, in your ear. “I like it.” 

Your ears felt like they were burning, your chest was tight, your toes wanted to curl in your flats. All from the sound of his voice. Of course he had never seen you wear a dress like this. The only other time he saw you was in your early morning lab. He was used to your oversized cardigans, comfy leggings, and a permanent sleepy expression. 

His hand slipped under the loose hem of the dress. He hesitated, testing the waters to see if you’d say something, when no objects came he glided over your underwear to rest on your bare hips. The back of your skirt lifted with his wrists to expose the bottom cheeks of your butt. You could feel him lean back enough to get a quick look. He seemed to like what he saw because he almost immediately ground his hips against you. 

You couldn’t stop the gasping moan that fell from your lips. Your body felt alive. You could feel the jolt of electricity shoot from your nipples down to your clit. You pushed back, grinding your bottom into his erection. You had no idea what had gotten into you but you couldn’t stop. His obvious arousal only fueled your own spreading fire. 

Even your nipples were painfully erect. Your friend had assured you that this dress had a built in bra and you wouldn’t need to wear one. That was a load of bullshit because it was obvious how hard your nipples were poking out. Your breath was becoming labored. You were in the middle of a rooftop party, actively grinding on your lab partner, and drunk on whatever the hell energy Peter was giving off. It wasn’t even the alcohol that was making you act like this. It was all Peter Parker. 

You turned in his grasp, throwing your arms around his neck, and finding his lips. He fell back against the railing with your sudden enthusiasm. He managed to keep himself from falling and slid his leg between yours. Without even thinking about it, you rested your core against his thigh. The wetness seeping into your underwear was now blatantly evident to you. Give it a minute and Peter would surely become aware of it, too. 

His hands roved hungrily over your body without any more hesitation. You opened your mouth, letting in his tongue, as he fervently attacked your lips. You angled your hips downward and thrust them against his jeans. Your aching clit screamed in pleasure at the delicious friction. Peter was back under your skirt and cupping your bottom. He helped push you along, easing the aid of you grinding against his thigh. 

His mouth left yours to leave sloppy, wet kisses along your cheek and down your neck until he found a spot he liked. He suctioned his lips to a pulse point and began sucking and nipping at your soft skin. Your eyes rolled back, mouth parted, at how wonderful it felt. A mix of pain and pleasure. He was bruising your neck, claiming you as his own with a visible mark. You let him dominate you, manipulate you however he pleases. You were his. A slave for Peter Parker. 

When he slowly pulled back from your neck, a trail of saliva connected your skin to his bottom lip. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the corner of his lips tugging into a satisfied smile as he admired his work. It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your entire life. 

“Do you need a break?” He whispered, his voice hardly heard above the obnoxious techno music now playing. 

You swallowed. You probably should stop. You should probably slow down. You were getting too lost in your own feelings. But you shook your head “no”. You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to have to pull yourself away from him. 

“I told you,” you whispered back, resting your forehead against his. “I’m not innocent.” 

“Are you sure about that?” He asked, the amusement coating his voice. “If I dragged you into the nearest coat closet right now, what would you do?” 

You didn’t hesitate in your reply, lust dripping with every syllable, “I would let you touch me however you wanted.” 

That was it.

Peter shoved his way past any person who stood in his way. He lead you through the crowd, swerving and weaving between sweaty bodies. The penthouse was huge. The first door he opened was the bathroom but it left too much probability of someone potentially needing to use it. The next was a guest bedroom. That one was already taken. The three people inside of it weren’t too pleased to see two more show up unannounced. The third was nearest to the elevator. It was a narrow, walk-in closet filled with fancy coats and shoes. 

“Jackpot,” Peter muttered under his breath. 

He pushed you inside and shut the door behind him. It was decently sound proofed in here with all the jackets. The music instantly muffled into the distance. You tugged on a gold chain hanging from the ceiling to flick on a single bulb. It wasn’t much light but it was enough. You turned to face Peter, the spell from outside starting to crack as the nerves set in. You might not have been entirely truthful when you told him you’d let him touch you however he wanted. The thought of losing your virginity in a closet wasn’t exactly how you envisioned it. 

Peter’s smile softened when he caught the apprehensive glint in your eye. He reached out his hand and tugged you close to him as he leaned against the door, making sure no one could enter. He placed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Remember when I told you were fuckable earlier?” He asked. 

You nodded. 

“Well,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were nothing more than a quickie in a stranger’s closet. I hope it didn’t come off that way and that was the impression you got. This might have gotten a little out of hand. We might have gotten a bit carried away.” He took a step away from the door so you could leave if you wanted to. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you. I had enough fun tonight to last me a lifetime. Just being able to dance with you made my day.” 

You gave him a light shove, pushing him back in front of the door to act as a human lock, taking back control, “I never said anything about leaving.” You took a deep breath, being brave, and trying to advocate for exactly what you wanted from him. “What I said still stands. You can touch me however you want but just with your hands. Okay?” You trailed a finger down his forearm, grazing over his wrist, and locking fingers with him. “If you want to go, it’s okay, I won’t stop you.”  

His smile grew when you repeated his own sentiment back to him. To help build back up the same electric energy from outside, you pressed closer to him and grazed your breasts against his chest, letting him feel how erect your nipples were. He tenderly cupped your cheeks with his large hands and captured your lips with his.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time,” he mumbled against your lips. His kiss was slower than the other two like he was really savoring the moment. You felt special. Wanted. Beautiful and sexy all at the same time. The way he worshiped your lips made you feel like the only woman left in the world. Maybe you were. Maybe nothing existed outside of this closet. All that was left was you and Peter. 

“Mmph,” was all you could manage back. Very articulate. 

And, just like that, you were back under the Parker spell. 

His hands made a slow descent away from your cheeks. They traveled down your neck, pausing for his long fingers to gently wrap around it, making you feel small inside his grasp. They brushed over your shoulders, toying with the thin straps to your dress, inching them to the side until they fell down the slope of your arm. The back of his fingers traced over the swell of your breast, letting the hard nub of your nipple feel every bump as he dragged each of his four fingers slowly over it. He was taking his time, carefully watching your every move and listening for every hitch of your breath. He was treating you like a precious piece of art that was meant to be admired and painstakingly inspected under a magnifying glass so as not to miss any precious details. 

The pooling wetness between your thighs caused your soaked through underwear to cling uncomfortably to you. You wished you could remove them but still felt too nervous to make any moves and distract Peter from his work. You stood still as a statue, lids half closed, as he molded his hand to your breast. Your eyes gazed up at him, helpless under his touch, the sounds of your heavy breaths the only thing you were now able to hear. 

A quiet moan whined in your throat when he pinched your nipple through your dress, capturing it between the knuckles of his middle and pointer finger. He shuddered at the sound, giving a sharp inhale. He wanted to hear it again. His free hand wrapped around your thigh to close the miniscule gap between your hips. He thrust his hips forward, rubbing himself against you, as he molded your breast in his hand.

“Can-” he breathed. “Can I?” 

His fingers slipped into cups of your dress, starting to tug them down to imply what he was asking, and pausing to look to you for confirmation. You gave a silent nod. 

Peter nearly stopped breathing as he tugged the top half of your dress down to reveal your naked breasts. His eyes were alive with flames while he took in the new sights. He tenderly cupped under your breast, giving it a gentle squeeze, watching as your flesh melded to his touch. His mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was begging to capture your nipple between his lips, but he stuck to the “only hands” rule, using his thumb to flick over it instead. 

Your hardly audible moans hit his ear. The sound must have awoken something in him because he responded to it with a whimper of his own. You glanced down to his crotch. His erection was thicker than before. It looked painfully locked up behind the confines of his jeans. You wanted to unleash it, let it be free, but you were too scared to take that leap. 

Peter didn’t seem to care about what his cock was feeling. He was too focused on losing himself in your body. He was more of a giver and a taker, you could tell. His hand still gripping onto your hip started to get more daring. You felt him sliding closer to your core. His fingers traced over the elastic band of your underwear, circling around the tiny, ribbon bow adorning the top. If you had known this was how you would end up tonight, you would have bought something sexier. That concern immediately flew from your thoughts as his fingers slipped between your thighs. His palm rested over your mound while the pads of his finger tips traced along the drenched material. His ragged inhale was all you needed to know to understand how turned on that feeling made him. 

“You’re so wet,” he growled in your ear. 

“Mm,” you croaked out, eyes closed. Words were no longer something your brain had access to. 

You bit your bottom lip the harder he pressed your panties against your slit. The thin cotton material was the only thing holding him back from entering you. 

Peter lifted his other hand to brush under your chin. He lifted your head so you were forced to look up at him. You pried your eyes open, staring at him through heavy lids. Your mouth hung open to accommodate your panting breaths. He locked eyes with you, looking into your soul, as he slipped the wet fabric to the side. 

You gave a silent, wide eyed cry when his finger grazed over your bare slit. Your stomach seized, nearly doubling you over, in excitement. You felt your folds open to his touch. His leg resting between yours nudged your ankle, telling you to spread your legs open a little wider for him. You clutched onto the front of his shirt, grabbing a fistful of it into your grasp. Without it, you felt like you might collapse. The look of lust etched into his features caused you to nearly orgasm on the spot. Your body was trembling, craving more, nodding your head as if that would make Peter work faster instead of slowly dragging everything out at a crawling pace. 

He leaned down, whispering in your ear, “I’m going to make you cum for me.” 

That nearly did it. You whimpered, letting your eyes close again. Peter tugged your underwear down your legs. They stopped at your knees, the width at which you were standing not allowing them to go any further. It was enough. His hand cupped between your thighs, rubbing you, teasing you. You grind your hips, thrusting your clit against his palm. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying how desperate you had become. 

“Fuck, you’re pretty,” he mumbled to himself. 

His long fingers moved gently on you, caressing your wetness, feeling how easily they slid through the slickness you were creating for him. All for him. He continued to simply feel you until you gazed back up at him. He was waiting for your eye contact. Your heart was pounding, waiting for the inevitable, and surrendering yourself over to him. The moment you locked on, he eased his middle finger between your parted lips while his thumb brushed slow circles around your clit. It was the first time a man’s finger had ever touched your sex. You felt the pressure, felt the fear, felt the excitement and the slight searing of pain at how tight you were. You whined as the pain and pleasure mixed to create an intense, swirling storm deep in your sex. Your pussy felt like it was sucking him in, trying to eat him whole, the deeper he sank into you. 

You clung to the front of his shirt, balled up fists, and tears spiking in your eyes. It felt so good. More intense than anything you’d ever felt. You’d touched yourself before but Peter was different. Better. You were sharing the moment, giving up control, and letting someone else learn the intimate details of your body. Your legs were shaking. Your knees felt weak. 

You buried your head into Peter’s neck as he started a steady, slow rhythm of easing his finger half way in and out of you. He focused most of his attention on servicing your throbbing clit. He could tell you were a virgin, he could tell how tight you were squeezing him, and he wanted to go as slow as possible so as not to hurt you. Even a single finger felt like it was filling you up. You were moaning against his neck, whimpering, whining, beginning for more. Your hips worked with each small thrust of his finger, trying to push it deeper. You thrust your clit against his thumb. Your body was taking over as you tumbled towards a climax. 

Peter’s lips were pressed against your ear. He whispered quiet words of encouragement, urging you on, praising you, comforting you. The night was all starting to meld together. The slutty dress, vodka, the obnoxiously loud music, how easily Matt rejected you with nothing more than a few words, finding Peter, dancing together, Britney Spears, the passionate terrace make out, the closet and how sweet Peter had been to quell your obvious fears, the way his finger felt so big inside of you. The entire night was swirling around your thoughts. A tornado building inside your brain. Ready to wipe out anything it touched. 

“That’s it,” Peter whispered over your pathetic whines. “There you go. Cum for me. You’re right there. Let it go. Let it happen.” 

You gave a sharp cry as light exploded in your vision. The tornado tore straight through you, ripping your mind from your body. You were floating in the air. High above everything else. You had no control of the way your body jerked and spasmed, held tightly against Peter’s chest. You’d never experienced an orgasm this powerful. It would have brought you straight to your knees had Peter not been holding you upright. 

He wrapped his arms around you, tracing his fingers over your back and up your neck. He soothed you with a quiet humming until your mind came crashing back down to earth. You were shaking, shivering, eyes glued closed. Peter was your one tether to cling on to. He kept you grounded as you let the tornado fade off into the distance. 

When you finally managed to get your bearings once more, you took a shaky step back from him. He kept his arms outstretched in case he needed to suddenly catch you if you decided to crumble. You shrugged the straps of your dress back up and adjusted the chest so your breasts were back to being concealed. 

Peter had given you a gift you didn’t even know you were looking for. You wanted to repay the favor but you didn’t think your body could handle anything more tonight. Instead, you slipped the underwear still clinging around your knees down to your ankles. You carefully stepped out of them. He watched in a silent curiosity as you closed the gap between you two, stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. 

“To give you something to remember me by,” you stood on your tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. A sweet, innocent kiss. 

He looked at you with an awe, loved filled gaze as you pushed open the closet door and stumbled into the hallway. 

When he didn’t follow, you glanced over your shoulder with a sly smirk, “Well? Are you coming?” 

[3vergr3en]

Earn it.

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Author’s Note: I have the biggest, most fattest crush on Andrew Garfield. LIKE LOOK AT HIM. Also, if there are any mistakes, I did not proofread this 💀

Summary: Harry is hosting a birthday party for his best friend, Peter. Everything runs smoothly until Y/N’s best friend back in high school shows up and start flirting with the female. Oblivious Y/N doesn’t think much of it, being used to such playful manner. But Peter can see through the man’s facade, and he doesn’t like it one bit.

Paring: Fem!Reader x TASM!Peter Parker

Genre: Smut with little plot.

Word Count: 2.9K

Additional Info: Public sex, unprotected sex (PLEASE WRAP IT), nipple play, orgasm control, Peter has an obvious breeding kink, cream pie, choking, teasing, profanity, name-calling, humiliation, dirty talk, jealousy, established marriage.

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“Thank you for coming! Please grab some champagne and the appetizers are over towards the left.” You inform with a smile, using your hands to help direct the couple towards the section. You continued on saying the same phrase for the majority, apart from times where you had thrown in a couple different sentences such as, ‘You guys look amazing tonight”, ‘Oh my, I haven’t seen you in so long!’, and ‘Oh thank you, Peter helped me pick out this dress.’

But one familiar fellow caught your attention, “Oh my god, Mark is that you?” You question as your jaw hung low in shock, your eyes widening twice in size. “I’m surprised you still remember me.” The black-haired man laughs as he walks up to you, extending his arms out as an indication for a hug, “How could I not? We spent our entire high school years together!” You exclaim, embracing the latter into your arms. You received a nice, firm hug from the male in return. “God, I missed you.” Mark chuckles, using one of his hands to caress the bare skin on your back through your long, velvet black backless dress. “I missed you as well. I tried contacting you after graduation, but—“ You pulled away.

“I got a new phone, and all of my contacts didn’t save unfortunately.” Mark explains as he held your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing in circular motions on the back of your hands. “You look gorgeous, by the way. You’ve always have been, since high school to now.” Mark compliments, leaning down to kiss your hand. “Oh stop it, Mark. You’re too much. What happened to the Mark that would tease me 24/7?” You laugh, using one of your hands to playfully slap at the man’s shoulder.

You fail to notice a presence coming up behind you, growing concerned when there was an abrupt change in Marks demeanor. “Mark? What’s wrong?” You furrowed your eyebrows as your frowned before looking over your shoulder only to see Peter glaring at Mark with a tightly-clenched jaw. “Oh hon’! Have you seen what Harry has done for your birthday? The ballroom is absolutely stunning! Also, I want you to meet Mark, he was my best friend throughout high school,” You smiled, wrapping your arms around your husband’s arm, oblivious to the tension between the two men. “And Mark, meet my husband, Peter.” You inform, feeling one of Peter’s arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you even closer to him.

“Husband?” Mark questions, raising one of his eyebrows. “Yeah. Dated for 4 years, been married for 5.” Peter stated, holding the hand out that the wedding band around your ring finger. “Oh, well, congratulations. I’m really happy for you, Y/N. But I’m just saying, I would’ve gotten a better ring for a beautiful woman like you.” Mark examines the ring, then to look at Peter with a smug look.

“Pfft, I forgot how much of a jokester you are, Mark.” You grin. “Hey, love? Can you go grab me some water?“ Peter asks with a nonchalant tone, not breaking eye contact with the man that stood in front of him. “Hm? Oh yeah, of course.” You nod, excusing yourself before walking off.

“The fuck is your problem?” Peter mutters, stepping closer towards Mark. “Nothing. It’s just sad to hear that my girl’s married off to some other dude. She looks ravishing tonight. The way the dress perfectly hugs her waist and extenuate her curves. How is she? Is she tight? Does her tits feel soft?” Mark whispers, the corner of his lips curling up into a smirk. Peter balled up his fists, clenching tightly to the point where his knuckles were turning white. As he opened up his mouth to say something, a pair of heels clicking against the smooth, tiled floor pulled him out of his frenzy.

“Unfortunately, they didn’t have water at the moment. They only had champagne, if that’s okay, love?” You explained, each hand holding two glasses. “I got one for you, Peter, and one for Mark.” You smiled. “That won’t be necessary, hon’.” Peter chuckles, grabbing both glasses. Before you could get a word in to ask why, your hands flew to cover your mouth as you watched Peter pour the beverages straight onto Marks head. Peter then handed you the empty glasses, pecking your cheek before turning around to face Mark once more, only to land a hard blow right across the males face. “Oh my god, Peter!” You gawked, immediately placing the glasses on a nearby table prior to rushing over to pull the brunette away from the half insensible Mark. “What is wrong with you?” You question with wide eyes, you look around to see people judgmentally staring at you three.

“You didn’t hear the vile things he said about you.” Peter mutters, shaking the hand that is now starting to bruise up. “Security!” You call out, “Please escort this gentleman out.” As two able-bodied men in black suits walked over, you pointed your hand at Mark who could barely stand. “Thank you.” You say to the two men, smiling.

You then felt a hand gripping at your wrist, dragging you through the crowd of people and up the carpet staircase. “Peter, where are you taking me?” You whispered loud enough for only Peter to hear. “Shut up.” You heard Peter respond back in a churlishly manner. You were bewildered. You don’t even know what Mark could’ve said to have Peter all riled up. You didn’t know where Peter was taking you in all honestly, there was a lot of turns and all you knew was that your feet were starting to hurt. It’s not easy to walk relatively fast in 5 inch heels.

“Peter, can you please slow down? My feet are starting to hurt—“ You gasped as you were suddenly grabbed at your shoulders, turned around to have your back pushed up against a large glass window. “Peter-!” You slightly yelp, looking around frantically. You saw you two were in a short hallway, the lights were fairly dimmed. You look over your shoulder to look through the glass windows and see you were approximately 15 stories high. “Peter, what are you doing?” You whisper, looking up at the male with furrowed eyebrows.

“Are you really that fucking stupid, huh?” Peter spats out. He grabs both of your wrists with one of his hands, pinning it above your head. The other hand now clenched around your jaw. “I don’t understand—“ You whimper when you felt Peter’s thigh force your legs apart. “He was flirting with you. Maybe you’re just too fucking dumb to even notice.” Peter says through gritted teeth. “Touching you.. putting his lips on you,” He scoffs, his hand that held your jaw now making its way down to your neck. “He had the fucking nerve to ask such vulgar questions about my lovely wife,” Peter laughs, tightening his grip around your throat, “But he wont ever know. He’ll live out the rest of his life wondering how tight you feel.. how soft these wonderful tits are.. and how much of a slut you sound like when you’re getting fucked.” Peter whispers into your ear, his thigh inching closer to your aching cunt.

You felt your body becoming hotter. But you also felt yourself becoming wetter with each passing second. “I’m sorry, Peter. Please..” You gasp out, bucking your hips up, trying to grind against Peter’s thigh for some sort of friction. “Look at my pathetic little whore, trying to rub herself on me. Tell me, love, what do you want?” Peter asks, loosening his grip around your throat. “Please fuck me..” You whine, shortly gasping afterwards when Peter finally pressed his thigh up against your clothed pussy. “More. Beg for it.” Peter orders. You began moving your hips forward and backwards, grinding against the soft material of the suit. Small whimpers slipping out of your mouth as you finally gained the friction you’ve been wanting. But it wasn’t enough, you needed more. You itched for more.

“Need more..” You breathed out, shaking your head when Peter had pulled his thigh away, “I want you inside of me.” You moaned when you felt Peter’s hand cupping your sex. “Do you deserve to be fucked, love?” Peter asks as he grabbed a handful of the lace material before ripping it off of you. You gasped at the sudden chill waving at your soaked cunt. He balled it up in his fists before stuffing it into his pant pocket. “Did you fucking hear me?” Peter asks, using the hand that bonded your wrists together, to now wrap around your throat once again, pinning you against the clear, cold glass surface. You nod frantically, mouth a gape, “Yes! Yes! I deserved to be fucked, oh please.. please fuck me.” You pleaded desperately when Peter’s fingers glided a long stripe in between your folds, stopping when the pad of his fingers landed perfectly on top of the clit. “Gotta quiet down, hon’.“ Peter huffs out, rubbing the small bundle of nerves in a slow, agonizing pace. “Please! Peter, faster!” You cried out, unable to take any more teasing. “What the fuck did I just say?” Peter muttered, momentarily pinching the airways on your throat. His fingers now starting to pick up the pace, rubbing in circular motions against the small knob. You moan, your hips bucking up into Peter’s hand. “Oh shit, yes!” You whimper, biting down on your bottom lip in attempt to try to lower your voice.

You whine in protest when Peter pulls his hands away from your body. He then pinched at the straps of your dress, pulling it down your arms, allowing the upper part of the dress to slip off your chest. Your breasts now full out on display, your nipples hard. “Another thing Mark will never know..” Peter breathes out as he turns you around. The front of your body now exposed to the outside world. His hands snaking around your torso till it reached your tits. He cupped them into his hands, kneading the soft, warm flesh. You hold onto Peter’s wrists, tilting your head backwards to rest onto the male’s broad shoulder. He slightly grazed his index fingers against the tip of your erected nipples, chuckling when you twitched against him. “I love how sensitive they are,” Peter whispers into your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. He placed his finger pads onto your nipples, beginning to rub them circular motions. You moan out in delight, squeezing your thighs together. “P-peter,” You whimpered. “Yes, baby. Say my name.” He hums, pinching the buds in between his thumb and index fingers. Twisting it and tugging it very slightly. “Peter!” You moaned out, rubbing your ass against Peter lower half, giggling when you felt his bulge poking through his pants.

“I need to see your pretty face when I fuck my cock into you.” Peter groaned, “Would you like that, baby? Hm? You want my thick cock ramming inside of this pathetic little pussy of yours?” He smirks as he undoes his belt, pulling the pants down enough for him to pull out his erected cock, finding it entertaining watching you fold under him. “Yes! Oh god, yes please! Fuck me, Peter..” You trailed off at the end. Suddenly a wave of boldness came over you, “Unless if I just call Mark right now and have him fuck me instead—“

You cut yourself off with a cry of pure bliss when you felt Peter force himself into you with the help of your wetness as a lubricant. Your hands flew onto the glass, palms spread flat out on the surface as Peter gripped at your hips, pulling out till the tip was barely left in, only to slam himself into you with full force. “Fuck! Peter!” You moaned, your breasts pushed up against the glass window, your chest twitching due to the friction of your nipples rubbing against the surface. “Who can fuck you like this, hm? Who can fuck this pussy?” Peter grunts into your ear, repeatedly slamming his hips against your ass. “You, Peter! Oh fuck, it’s you!” You cry out, already feeling your legs buckling.

You couldn’t think of anything besides the feeling of Peter’s cock ramming into you. Filling you up perfectly. You were already on edge due to the teasing from earlier. You felt like a bucket being filled up, on the brim of tipping over. “Peter, slow down. I’m getting close.” You beg, using one of your hands to reach back and push against Peter’s pelvis. But rather than slowing down, Peter ignored the pleas from his wife and instead thrusted faster, his balls slapping against your cunt. “Oh god! P-please! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned out loud, shaking your head frantically.

Peter abruptly pulls out, catching you in his arms when you’re legs collapsed on themselves. “N-no..” You whined out pathetically when you felt your orgasm was ripped away from you. Peter picks you up in his arms, carrying you to a nearby table that was placed against the wall along the hallway. He sets you down on the marble table, placing himself in between your legs. “Look at me, beautiful. Who makes you this stupid when fucking you?” Peter asks, his tone sweet ironically compared to what he’s asking. “You, Peter.” You smile, wrapping your arms around the male’s neck. “Good girl.” He praises, pecking your mascara stained cheek.

He lines himself up to your gaping hole, pushing in once more, groaning. “Fuck, my baby’s pussy is so warm and tight. Look at it pulling my cock in.” He laughs. Once he fully bottomed out, his hip began snapping against yours. Squelching sounds fills the hallway along with the obscene noises that left your mouth. “I’m going to cum soon, baby.” Peter moaned out. You tightly wrapped your legs around Peter’s hips, locking him in a tight space. “I’m gonna cum in this little pussy of yours. Gon’ fill you up to the brim, fuck!‘M gonna fuck my babies into you.” Peter groans, laughing when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Oh yeah? You like the thought of me fucking my cum so deep inside of you? Getting you pregnant, hm? Your belly round and full of my kids?” He says, “Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!” You plead, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust Peter makes. “I’m.. gonna get you pregnant.” Peter breathes out, his thrusts beginning to get sloppy.

“I-I’m cumming!” You cried out, “Lets come together, love.” Peter moans, his thrusts quickening just for a few moments until it came to a full stop. “Fuck, Y/N!” He says as he came, his cock pulsating inside of you. Thick spurts of white, warm cum shot inside of you. Coating your insides with his seed.

“Peter!” You came straight after. Your eyes rolling back as one last moan that sounded like it came straight from a porno emitted from you. Your legs fully tightening around Peter hips, making sure to squeeze out every single drop of cum from the male. You felt yourself tipping over inside, a wave of pleasure coursing throughout your body, leaving you twitching.

Peter slowly pulls out once he felt himself go limp inside of you. He leaned over to embrace you into his arms, holding you close to him. “Happy birthday, Peter.” You giggle, pecking his cheek. “Thank you, love. Let’s get you fixed up before we go back downstairs, okay?” He suggests, moving a strand of hair away from your face. “But I’m pretty sure they’ve heard you. ‘Oh, fuck, yes! Please cum inside of me!’” Peter playfully mocks. You gasp and punched him in the arm, “Oh shut up!” You whine, hiding your face in Peter’s shoulder. “I hate you.” You mumble, “No you don’t. You love me.” Peter laughs, helping you wear your dress correctly.

[secretaccountlol]

KISS ME THRU THE PHONE

does anyone even remember that song???

Anyways…

Dom! Reader x Peter Parker

18+ no minors thank you!

Summary: you caught Pete masturbating to you and you decide to have a little fun with the moment.

CW TIME!!!: Phone sex, Non-con masturbating? (Obviously you caught him so you didn’t know), mutual masturbation, sex toys, body fluids~.

Oh and typos, probably.

Tag list omg!: @tiredbuthappy

Sparker 🕷🕸

Sparker: Hey!

You: Hey!!!

Sparker: Ready to eat popcorn and gossip on ft?

You: Hell yeah

Incoming from Sparker 🕷🕸

Your smile beams as Parker’s face illuminates yours, his face mirrors your expressions.

“Hellllooo nurse!” Peter’s eyes crinkle as you dramatically cringe, still smiling. “Excuse me, do not tarnish Yakko's household name, Peter Parker!” Your voice is filled with fake outrage earning a hearty laugh from Peter.

“If you used my middle name I'd definitely think I was in trouble.” Peter’s smile could make a crying baby smile aka it made your heart swell.

“Soooo, whatcha wanna gossip about?” you bite your lip as you check him out, his black fitted t-shirt clung to his muscles deliciously, his brown hair effortlessly styled, you could tell his room was a mess like always even though you couldn't see it. His back was against his bed frame, his phone was tilted to only show his torso.

You're laying down on your tummy, your legs kicked up, your phone propped up on a pillow in front of you as you hugged another pillow to rest your chin on, You were in your usual cozy jacket, no bra or no pants attire, of course, Peter couldn't see that.

“Mm whatever you wanna talk about, honestly, I just wanted to hear your voice” Peter’s laugh vibrated through your ears.

“Oh-! Uhm okay well.” your feet kicked as you gossiped about your day, what you ate, etc etc. You loved this weekly ritual you and Pete did, you never understood why he wanted to face time with you, considering he always seems so busy, and most of the time he didn't talk, just nodded along occasionally knitting his eyebrows in understanding or worked on homework as you rambled, you just chalked it up to him not knowing what to say most of the time.

“Mm, that’s about it!” You clapped, Peter had long ago turned off his cam, but you could hear a small groan and shuffle before Peter spoke, “H-hm? But you didn't even finish the part bout your neighbor, remember?” his voice was strained like he was holding back a yawn, you frown.

“Well, I wanted to give you a chance to speak for a chance, cus you never do” you hummed.

“That's cus I like hearing you speak..” his voice was low like a whisper, it made you shiver.

“Why?” you whispered back.

You hear a strangled groan, “P-please..j-just keep talking..!”

“Peter? Are you okay?” your voice raised a bit higher,

“I-i’m fine, just.. Keep talkin’ to me..” his voice falters as your concern rises.

“I'm not gonna talk anymore until you turn on your camera!” your voice cracked as shouted, well kinda shouted you didn't want your roommates to hear you.

“Fine! Okay, jeez!” you can make out him scrambling before seeing his face flush, eyes wide, so slightly panting, nevertheless he tried to appear normal, your eyebrow quirked.

“See? ‘Mm fine!” his voice masked something but you couldn't tell what, your face stayed skeptical. “Peter, what's going on? Tell me right now!” you slam your hands down on your bed, and Peter rolls his eyes.

“Nothin', you're being outlandish.” your nostrils flare at his comment, “Oh no, what we're not gonna do is gaslight me, Peter Benjamin Parker!” you see Peter wince, his puppy dog eyes flood your screen.

“Okay, you're right, that was mean..I'm sorry.” Peter scratched the back of his neck. “I-.. I was doing something but I'm fine, I promise.” Peter couldn't meet your eyes but his explanation still eased your worry.

“What were you doing?” your head cocked to the side, like a cat. “I-..I can't tell you.” Peter muttered, it was so soft you couldn't help but get hot.

“Peter, can you tell me anything you know that..” you tried to copy his tone, “You’d-... I feel like you'd despise me if I did ..” you smile gently, he can be so cute sometimes.

“Peter. I promise, just- just tell me, please?” You wish you could caress his soft face as you whisper comfort. Something about Peter made him feel so fragile sometimes.

“Ok- I-” he coughed. “I-i was..uhm.. Jerkin’..it?” his voice cracked as you tried to put the pieces together

“Jerkin? What? What's that-?”

“Y’know..!!”

“I do not know..”

“I-i was y’know..Jerkin the chicken!”

“Jerk chicken?”

“Oh my God, no- I was… I was masturbating!”

“Oh..” your face burns as your eyes widen, your face half buried in your pillow. “I- why..?”

“I- uhm...well, I was doing it, t-to you..” you bite your lip as your legs rubbed together, he was masturbating to you? God, you could explode right now.

“Why me?” you feigned innocence as your smirk grew under your pillow, you were starting to enjoy this.

“I..ilikeyourvoice!! Andidunnoivedoneitafewtimesnowandithoughtyoudwouldntnotice!! And-! And-! “ You could barely make out the words he spoke, were they even words? Your laugh stopped his rambling.

“You are.. So cute Pete.” Peter's eyes finally met your half-lidded ones.

“Peter.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Show me.”

“Show you-.. Show you what?”

“You know what, Pete.”

“I-.. Are you sure?”

“Mmhm, I think you owe it to me considering you were getting off with me without permission.”

Peter’s cheeks were dusted with pink, you could see his adam's apple move before he proceeded to do what he was told.

“Wanna see your face in the camera still, Pete.” you could see him freeze before nodding quietly as he continued his actions. His cock was fairly big, bigger than what you thought it would be,

You could see Peter’s face is bright red by now, his hand covering his mouth as he looks away. “Are you-.. done looking yet? This is embarrassing.”

“Why are you embarrassed?” Of course, you knew why, but Peter is just too cute not to tease.

“I- you know why! God. Don’t tease me right now!”

“Hey, Pete.” You finally lift up, your head now in a new position leaning on your hands.

“Y-yea?”

“Did you cum?” he blinks a few times before chewing on his lip.

“N-no..”

“Aww, well baby you shouldn't give yourself blue balls on my account.”

“I- wha-?”

“Finish what you started, Peter.”

Peter’s eyes practically pop out as his cock twitches, he brings his phone closer to his face again, looking around the room nervously before looking back at you.

“I- you..”

“You.. Me?” you mock him. “What? Do you need some more material? Greedy boy.”

“I- no I wasn..-!”

You raise yourself, you smirk as you see peters eyebrows raise before slowly unzipping your jacket, your bare tits on display, Peter’s eyes are glued on you as you twist one of your nipples giving him a teasing wink.

“Whatcha think? Hm? Enough for you?” you taunt him leaning your head as your hands trail down your stomach and back.

“Fuck.. You're-..sososo hot” you watch as he palms his cock, you chuckle at Pete’s loss for words. “Shirt off, now.” Peter nods, yanking his shirt at the speed of light, you laugh at his eariness.

“Mm, stroke yourself for me, Pete.” Peter obliges your order once more, his eyes never leaving your chest. You grope yourself, sticking your tongue out.

“Hey Petey, wanna see even more?” Peter nods rapidly, “Mmhn, if you do you gotta open that mouth and ask pretty boy.” you quickly zip up your jacket as you hear Peter whine.

“Pleasepleaseplease! I’ll do anything, please!”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

Your Cheshire grin grows as you unzip your jacket once more.

“Say you need me.”

“I need you, god. I need you sososo bad.”

“Good boy.”

You can see Peter get even harder as you shimmed your panties off, you feel hot, and a bit embarrassed as your smile fades. You spread yourself out with two fingers, looking away, slightly clearing your throat.

“Fuck, I wish I was there to eat you out, this is torture, y’know?”

Your eyes meet his as he gives you a genuine smile, you return the favor as you gain your confidence back.

“How bout I torture you some more?” Your hands slide down, you moan as you circle your clit, tilting your head up in pleasure. You'd masturbated before, but having someone watch you, having Peter watching you, turned you on even more.

“Peter-..mmhn, please I need more.” you flirt, could hear Peter’s breath hitch as you spoke, “If you keep talking like that I'll bust right now” you chuckle at his comment.

“Want me to see my ride my dildo and pretend it's your dick?”

“God yes.”

You lean down to kiss the phone screen, making Peter laugh before producing a dildo.

“Ta-da!” you laugh as you position the dildo below you,

“Ready?”

“Born ready.”

You bust out laughing, “Oh my god Peter we're having phone sex not saving the world!”

“A-ah right, pfft”

You smile, rubbing your pussy up and down the dildo, covering it with your slick. You hear Peter groan, “Please baby put it in, I can’t wait anymore-“

“Your wish is my command.” You moan as you lower yourself on your dildo until it disappears into, “Mm, you fill me so well, Pete.” You hear Peter whimper as you start bouncing up and down,

“Fuckfuckfuck you’re so hot.. I’m gonna cum already..!” you smirk seeing his eyebrows knit in pleasure, “Don't you dare, Peter. ``You moan as you speed up your strokes, Peter whines as you start rubbing your clit again. “I-I’m so close! Mm..” Peter’s voice cracks as you watch his eyes close, “Eyes on me, Parker” you pant as you watch him struggle to keep it together. “You’ll cum when I say you can!” You pinch your nipples as the tension builds up In your stomach.

“Please! Let me cum, I-I can’t hold it anymore.. F-feels ..Mm too good!” Peter’s voice falters as you watch his head tilt back.

“I’m close t-too, let’s cum together, okay?” Peter moans in response, “I w-wanna h-hear you say it, Pete!” You hiss out through clenched teeth, “I-I’ll c-cum with you!” Peter’s head tilted forward, jaw clenched his eyes low as he looked at you.

“I’m…!” You rubbed yourself furious as you grind down on the fake cock. You hear Peter gasp for air as white lines shoot from his cock all over his hands, you both stay silent catching your breath.

“T-that was…veryveryveryvery hot” Peter breathed out, you giggle, “You said that already, Pete!”

“Yeah but it’s true!” His voice cracked, making you laugh again, you watch his face turn red. “I-I guess I should clean up..?” You nod, slowly easing yourself off your dildo, whimpering.

“God.. You’re- don’t do that, I’ll pop a boner again.” Peter’s voice quivered, you smirk, bending now to lick your dildo. “Wanna go for round two, Parker?”

“You’re a demon”

“I think the correct term is succubus, you're like super smart shouldn't you know that?”

“You’re- fuckkk..“

“Plus, if you’re not busy..you can maybe..come over?” Your fingers traced circles in your bed sheets, “We can finish..in person?” You look back at your phone, to see Peter trying to hop into his spidey suit as quickly as possible, before grabbing the phone.

“I’ll be over in 10 mins.”

[venus616]

i'm just saying you can do better; {p.p.}

Pairing: peter parker x f!reader (gif is tasm but you can interpret this as any peter parker)

Summary:  tell me have you heard that lately? i'm just saying you can do better... and i'll start hating only if you make me. (lyrics by drake, marvin's room)

translation: you and peter have been best friends for years, you had a crush on him but eventually got over it and he noticed you're about to move on to some other guy. he just had to get something off his chest before you did that

Warnings: friends to lovers, smut, alcohol mentions (margarita, beer, shots), vaginal fingering/sex, oral sex, praise kink (if you squint), jealousy, language, unprotected sex, 18+, NSFW

Word Count: 5.6k (2.4k is smut LOL)

A/N: once i decided on a title for this fic i couldnt stop humming marvins room sjdjnfjnd but yeah this was fun to write it was a previously abandoned wip (my first one ever for peter actually) that i revised the plot for almost entirely and this came out way better than i expected shout out to my oomf / friend for reading both times

She usually kept to herself and her closest friends, Peter being her best one. And don’t get her wrong, she loved Peter. There were no words for how much adoration she had for him, but unfortunately, she wasn't the only one. 

Peter was their college’s most eligible bachelor, how could he not be? Top of his class, the freshmen’s favorite Physics TA and possibly the cutest guy at the school. Don’t get him wrong, he’s not necessarily a playboy but it was definitely a step up from his social standing from Midtown High. He enjoyed the attention, he’d be a fool not to. Especially because he’s being noticed as himself and not just when he’s in the suit. So yeah, he went on a few dates here and there. Hooked up with a couple people in the bathrooms of frat parties. Even flirted while he was helping students on their problem sets. 

Unfortunately for her, she had to hear all about it afterwards. 

Whether it’s from his end, a guy talking about the encounter in the dining hall or a girl talking about it before her organic chemistry lecture. She wasn’t the biggest fan of it, it hurt seeing someone she loved dearly, after realizing how deeply that love ran once he was single again, not manifest into a deeper relationship. Peter had been a core part of her life since high school, Aunt May adored her, her family adored him. She was even there for his break up with Gwen Stacy so she could study abroad. 

As they got older she understood those were the things that just came with being the best friend to someone who was as amazing as Peter which is why she didn’t risk changing it. She accepted her place in his life and eventually those feelings of consistent jealousy that would flare during the first few months of their freshman year subsided. Sometimes they would come back up but she pushed it aside as false hope as there were outside parties involved. For example, the few times when her friends (that weren’t also his) accused him of being flirty. Each time, nothing came of it. So she refused to read too much into it until he said it explicitly. 

She finally chose to actively move on from this high school crush, that she even started seeing someone from one of her classes and they were planning a third date for this weekend. This, because of course, came up during their hang out with their mutual friends in her and Felicia’s campus apartment. They were hanging out to take the edge off after midterms from last week and crowded in the kitchen counter playing bartender during. This was one of the rare times Peter could make it, so she appreciated the quality time with him. 

After Felicia made a small margarita for her, she started asking how it was going with Johnny from the Bioethics course. Everyone’s chatter dropped considerably because everyone was interested in the prospective relationship in bloom with the Johnny Storm. She stuttered before clearing her throat, clearly embarrassed. 

“It’s fine. I mean, he’s really sweet of course. And fun-” 

“So have you guys hooked up?” Felicia cuts off. Peter smirks before looking to her for her response.

She feels her stomach flipping at his sudden attention to her answer.  

She plays it off before responding, clearing her throat. “Yeah,” she shoots a grin meeting with the eyes across the room before the room erupts in a light cheer. 

“We’re actually gonna see eachother again this weekend and go to his place in the city.” She smiles to herself in excitement. She bites the bottom of her lip as her friends shoot quirked up eyebrow glances her way. 

“Well let’s celebrate! You're gonna get some from THE Johnny Storm! Bottoms up!” Felicia announces. The rest of her friends follow suit as she tries to laugh off the burning up of her cheeks and ears, not realizing the news of her sex life would be this exciting. 

Peter bitterly smirks before taking a swig of his beer. He didn’t understand why this was such a big deal that Felicia practically had to make a show of it. 

He also didn’t understand his annoyance and attempted to play it off. It increasingly became hard as the questions advanced and she continued blushing, describing the last few dates with him. Peter’s ears particularly perked up at the study date she had with him, finding out that she had canceled on him for Johnny through this. 

Peter felt a twinge of disappointment in his stomach at this, not knowing if it was friend jealousy or something more. He knows he can’t be exactly mad, since the hangout they had planned was usually offhand, and he more often than not skipped out on those due to Spider-Man activities, simultaneously lying. He couldn’t blame her for eventually reciprocating, but for a boy? He hadn’t felt that let down by her since she admitted to him she thought his Bugle coworker Eddie Brock was cute. 

Peter took another swig of his drink distractedly, causing Harry to ask if something was on his mind, but he shook his head quickly, lying to alleviate any worries from his friend. 

As the night progresses and everyone decides that they’re the perfect amount of buzzed for a game night. After a few rounds of the card game B.S., she decides Candyland would be perfect, remembering that she has the game in her room. Not wanting to get up, she asks Peter to get it for her underneath her bed while he’s up throwing away his drink. 

He obliges and turns to her room door, opening it. His eyes narrow at the picture of him and her next to her bed, accompanied by other pictures he’s taken for their group outings. His pace quickened up across the room and he reached for the frame. Peter quickly turned behind him to make sure no one was coming in to check and turned back to smile at it. He remembered this day fondly, the day they went to the state fair and won her a plushy of her favorite animal. In this photo he noticed how big she was smiling while he was only smiling at her posing happily. Peter used his spidey skills to his advantage and just played it off, to soak into her admiration when he won.

He put it back down as he sensed the footsteps coming behind the door to reveal her opening her room door confused. 

“Pete, what are you doing? Hurry up, Harry is suggesting body shots again.” She giggled before sauntering over his body standing in front of her nightstand. He chuckled at the comment before she crouched down to get the game underneath her bed. She rose back up on her feet to meet his eyes, following her. 

“You’re being a weirdo,” She said putting her hand on his broad shoulder, with a false concern in voice causing him to laugh. 

He inhaled a little before quipping. “Are you ditching me to hang out with this new guy?” His voice raised a pitch to ensure the friendliness of the inquiry, attempting to mask his genuine offense. 

She then shrugged, and face suggesting she didn’t know or care what he was talking about. It was that moment Peter officially identified his feelings as jealousy. 

“If you’re referring to the one time,” she emphasized ‘one’, making Peter feel guilty enough to hang his head low in response, “I canceled on you then yes.” She rubbed the hand she still had on him on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry and I’ll give you a heads up next time. Now can we go so you can stop acting like such a baby?” She playfully tapped his cheeks with her palm but he caught her hand, holding it a little longer than usual. 

Peter drank her gaze onto him as his hand engulfed hers, still remaining on her face. His fingers intertwined with hers as he leaned his face into her hand. Her breath hitched at the affection he was showing and slowly removed her hands from his, worried that one of their friends would see them with the door wide open. She broke eye contact, suddenly finding the boardgame in her other hand much more interesting. 

“C’mon, let’s go,” Peter’s voice interrupted her thoughts, and soon after so did his hand as it landed on the small of her back, caressing that area lightly until he found her hand again to quickly lead them way out the room. 

The rest of the night was odd to say the least. 

Peter’s hands were always grazing hers, or finding themself right on top of her thighs. Whether it was to flag her down from the competitive streak they were both showing from the game or laughing at her reaction to one of his bad jokes, his hands were just constantly on her body. 

Similar to other instances where she felt confused by Peter’s sudden affection, she attempted to play it off, but it got to a point where it was causing her heart to beat faster and a familiar heat to form within her stomach. 

She let out a silent breath of relief that her friends began to leave, expecting Peter to soon leave with Harry. She went to the kitchen to throw food away but found Felicia looking back at her with a mischievous but apologetic look on her face. 

“What?” She raised her eyebrow, ready to exclaim at her for leaving her with a mess when she agreed to set up if Felicia cleaned at the end.

“I have plans, sorry babe, but I will cook and clean tomorrow. I promise!” Felicia then dashed out after hugging her body quicker than she could think to respond, followed by the door closing behind her. 

She sighed, slightly annoyed that out of all times for Felicia to mysteriously disappear yet again, that she had to do it the night she would clean up. Quickly, she decided to get over it, said her goodbyes to mostly everyone and noticed Harry and Peter still talking. She decided to ignore it until they would eventually make their exit and started on the dishes while they had their conversation. 

“You’re not coming back tonight man?” Harry asked, confusion all over his face. 

“No I will. Something just came up, so I'll see you later, yeah?” Peter averted Harry’s eyes and Harry understood, or at least assumed he did. Just another one of Peter’s mysterious disappearances, so he left without any further questions. 

Harry quickly said bye to the hostess of the night causing her to look up from the sink when she saw Peter still in their apartment. 

“Are you still here, Parker?” She sounded in disbelief, causing Peter to scoff. 

“Am I not allowed to spend quality time with my best friend now?” She looked up from the sink to see him clutching his heart as if he had been stabbed, making her shake her head at his dramatics. 

“For your information, I wanted to stay,” He added on. She wiped down the sink and washed her hands before walking back into the main room where he had sat on the couch, landing on the spot in front of him. 

“I believe it’s called overstaying your welcome,” She bantered, causing him to playfully push her by her shoulder. 

“Whatever,” He rolled his eyes as the silence of the apartment filled the air. They both noticed it, realizing whatever was there in her room earlier was still in the atmosphere, especially prevalent now that they were officially alone. 

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him,” He puffed, muttering it a bit low compared to his usual volume. She furrowed her eyebrows, annoyed at the insuitation. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She laughed pushing his shoulder back, mimicking his movement from earlier. 

“No not like that, I just feel like you can do better than him,” Peter let the statement roll off his tongue and she froze in response, attempting to understand what he just said. Her eyes landed on the ground, avoiding him again before she could think of a proper reaction.

She quickly shook off what she thought it sounded like, which she thought was jealousy and just took the safe, protective best friend route. 

“Should I have gotten your approval first?” She smirked, looking back up at him, reaching over to hold his hand in the safe way they always have. 

Peter took it a step farther, just like how he did earlier, and intertwined his fingers with hers yet again. 

“I think you should be with someone who’s more your type you know? A little more thoughtful,” Peter started, rubbing his fingers along the pad of her thumb. 

“He’s cool I guess, but you shouldn’t be with someone who’s so cocky,” He stated, making her laugh, causing him to laugh as well. 

“See you’re enjoying this. You want me to talk about him and beg you not to see him again?” Peter joked, causing her to gasp out as his accusations.

“Peter, you started this,” She pointed out, making his cheeks turn a few shades brighter at her acknowledgment. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you but it also just sounds like you’re describing yourself.” She comments before she could think, embarrassed at her assertion, but she knew if she didn’t call him out he wouldn’t stop it. The last thing she needed was one of her friends not approving of a guy she was seeing. 

“I’m your type?” He clocked her. She didn’t know how to react so she watched his face for any hint of how to proceed. He only smirked with a smile playing on his lips, letting her know how much he was enjoying this. 

“Oh shut up,” She smiles playfully before hitting him with her nearest throw pillow, him yelling out a whine, knowing it didn’t hurt. 

“For your information,” She started, mocking his voice from earlier. “You’re being just as cocky as him right now.” She firmly stated as he placed the pillow back in lap. 

Peter shrugged before readjusting himself to sit closer in front of her, dangerously close. It went back to feeling like 30 minutes earlier when he was all over her body. 

“Yeah? But it’s okay when I do it.” Peter teased, leaning his head on the couch watching his presence words fluster her. He could feel her heart picking up its pace and it dizzied him, knowing the type of effect he had on her. 

“I didn’t say that,” She argued back, making him draw his breath back in before egging on her claim from earlier. 

“But I’m your type,” He stated, she sighed in defeat, knowing he wasn’t going to drop it and played into it due to this. 

“I guess you are Peter,” She states lightly. If Peter didn’t have his Spidey senses on overdrive right now, he would’ve been convinced by the nonchalant act she put on right now. Instead, he respected her commitment to not allowing him to win, even when she’s flirting back. 

“Then how come you’re not going out with me?” 

What he said stunned her, she faltered momentarily before shrugging again with a smile. 

“You never asked,” She stated, a smile bouncing off of her lips watching Peter form an answer. They decided to skip over the fact that they had been friends for almost 6 years, but she knew that her honest answer was that the mere idea of him going out with her was out of the question because of it.  

Until now. 

He remained still for a moment and she fixated on where their hands met instead, wondering if they had ever held hands like this before. While she was thinking, and while Peter used his free hand to tuck her hair behind her hair, she realized the answer was never, because it had always been much more innocent. However, tonight was anything but that. 

“Can I try something?” His voice finally registered in her ears. Confused at his sudden switch, she nods. 

Peter hesitates, going in to kiss her. Peter’s soft lips connect to hers as his hand cups her face. She instinctively deepened the kiss, silently asking for Peter’s permission to do so. Their breaths began to shake from the intensity of the kiss. 

She practically lost her bearings when Peter’s hands made their way to her waist, pulling her towards his chest. She held onto his bicep, now flexed, as he hooked his hand underneath her leg to pull her around his hips where he sat. 

They were an entangled mess, Peter placing her where he wanted and her obliging, but not coming up for air as she leaned even more into the kiss. Peter chuckled in between the kisses when he eventually grabbed her hips to hover above his own. She groaned at his strength, leaning back in to attack his neck and jaw in kisses. 

She eventually started to nibble on his neck, finding his sensitive spot. He pants out, attempting to slow down her movements before bringing her closer.  

“Fuck, you’re really going in on me there,” He muttered before he forcefully plopped her onto him causing her to grind on his forming erection, grinning at his acknowledgment. Peter placed his hand on her back and pushed her closer to his chest, nose and forehead pressed against one another with only the sounds of their breathing filling the room. 

She leaned into his ear whispering lowly, “You like it.” She readjusted herself on him slightly, to grab on the waistband of his pants, tugging it down before snaking her other hand on the print straining against the fabric of his jeans.

Peter groaned, dick twitching in his pants from simultaneous surprise and arousal. He didn’t realize how different it would be sleeping with a close friend, but also underestimating how she would be in a sexual context. 

He threw his head back as she unbuttoned his pants, in disbelief of what was happening right now. When he brought his head back up to watch her movements he saw her kneeled before him on the ground, rubbing his erection through his boxers.

“Fuck, slow down,” He breathed out while pulling his jeans off. Right after, Peter raised his t-shirt right above his abs while she pulled his boxers down, cock semi-hard. 

Her eyes glazed over his body, only semi familiar with it whenever their friends went to the beach or the pool. She tried to hide her shock at he’s become exponentially toned since high school and just seemed to be getting bigger despite never actively going to the gym. She chose to pay it no mind and focused on his cock.

Mainly because she hated how attractive Peter looked right now, hair messy, shirt halfway off and looking down at her, closely watching her movements. The attention he was giving her was enough to make her want to shut down immediately. Their eye contact remained intense, both blown out with lust, both because of the compromising position the other was in. 

She maintained eye contact and wrapped her hand around his length, slowly jerked her hand around him. When he was hard enough, she placed one hand at the base of his cock and another right on top, running her thumb over the slit a few times once the pre cum came out. She looked down at the wetness pooling out from him and focused on her movements, not wanting to lose this pace he had been receptive to. He was fully erect at this point, almost bucking his hips into her hands getting him off.  

Peter was choking back his moans before he finally spoke. “Don’t be a tease,” He muttered. 

She giggled and the noise went straight to his dick, causing him to buck once more in her hands. 

Without saying anything, she placed the hand that had been on the base of his erection on his thigh and opened her mouth in an obscene way that was unfamiliar to Peter. Before he could take a mental picture of it, she slowly licked the underside of his cock up to his tip and wrapped her lips around him, her eyes never leaving his. 

He whispered a curse under his breath from the scene in front of him, realizing this was just the beginning. 

Her tongue swirled around the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that was previously spurting out and she dipped her head lower, dropping the eye contact to which Peter had a brief sigh of relief, becoming intimidated by the intimacy of it all. She shifted her focus on taking him whole and started to bob her head on him, engulfing his length with her mouth. 

He started puffing out, mumbling praises that only encouraged her. “Fuck, you’re taking me so good,” She only nodded, attempting to take him deeper while swishing her mouth around him and continuing to bob.

Peter felt a tension forming in his stomach and wanted to tell her to stop but it escaped his head as quickly as it came because of how good her mouth felt. Peter fought the urge to instinctively thrust into her mouth and just cupped the back of her head, pushing the hair out of her face as she continued to gag around him, the wet noises mixing in with his moans. 

“Don’t hurt yourself babe,” He said before moving a hand that was around her head to her cheek, making her look up at him. She bobbed her head a few more times, this time more shallowly and popped off his dick, gasping for air. 

A trail of her saliva dripped from her lips to the head of his cock making his stomach burst with butterflies from the image of how flushed, and fucked out she looked from the immaculate head she just provided him with. His heart swelled from the action and all he could do was wipe the spit from her chin and cup her face. 

“C’mere here,” He mumbled, bringing her to stand on her feet and lean down to kiss him. He kissed her rougher than the first time, presumably from the desire he’s built up from the foreplay.  She was still trying to pace her breathing and he could tell so he slowed down, but snaked his hands down to the waistband of her jeans, reciprocating the unbuttoning of her pants like she had done for him. 

She broke the kiss to replace his hands with hers and slipped them off. Shortly after she removed her top, revealing herself clad in some lacy underwear and a bra, standing before him.

“No fair, Parker,” She commented. He was briefly confused until she grabbed the hem of his shirt to remove it off of him, admiring his toned, relaxed figure in full view now. She kneeled back down on the couch cushions, her warm core hovering above his dick, teasing him as he could feel the heat on him with her knees on either side of his legs. 

He brought his hand in between her thighs, attempting to move her underwear to the side but paused at the wetness of her through the fabric. 

“So wet,” He tsked, making her smirk when he looked back up to her studying his movements. He placed her fingers firmly against her nub through the fabric, to which she grinded against, needing to feel his large fingers against her now throbbing clit. 

“Impatient, too,” He added, finally moving her panties to the side to insert a finger, making her throw her head back. She unconsciously rocked her hip forward at the penetration to which he met by repeatedly thrusting into her before adding another.

Both his index and middle fingers were fucking her, long and slender but big enough to feel the pleasure of the stretch once she had relaxed around him. Peter eventually curled his fingers inside of her and flicked his wrists while inside of her, causing her to squirm on top of him. The sounds of her wetness coincided with her moans, progressively getting more sensitive and impatient. 

“I’m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” She hissed at him, unable to control the steady rocking of her hips on his hands. 

“Good,” He said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. He brought his other thumb to rub her clit, making her movements sputter and breathing erratic as he played with her to her finish. 

Peter felt her clenching around him more frequently and took advantage of it to thrust faster, curling his fingers back up to create more friction. She whined out at the change of pace and stimulation added onto her clit before eventually feeling the built up tightness in the lower pit of her stomach release, signifying her finish. 

She continued to clench around his fingers as he continued to finger her despite her orgasm. She sobbed at the sensitivity she began to help but couldn’t help but continue rocking her hips into his fingers, riding them once again. She resumed panting out his name, begging him for something but couldn’t form the words.

“What?” He said, barely slowing down the thrusts of his fingers. 

“Fuck me,” She responded, hardly audible from the groans surrounding the statement. 

He nods, removing his fingers from her core, making her gasp at the sudden absence of him. She made quick work of her underwear, slipping them off her legs while Peter wrapped his hand around his cock, attempting not to completely jerk off to the sight of her.

She returned to her previous position, covering her completely naked form over Peter’s, feeling the tip of him right under to her wetness. 

She sank down on him, both wincing at the feeling of each other. All Peter could focus on was the softness of being inside her, her skin, the flesh of her thighs being wrapped around him, the closeness of their chests being pressed up against each other and the brief vulnerability she was displaying by wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He felt faint at the presence of her scent while her head was tucked into his neck, combined by the steady sensation of her rocking her hips onto his cock. 

“Peter,” She moaned. 

“Yeah?” Peter was hardly taken out of his thoughts, answering automatically as he grabbed onto the flesh of her hips to control at the speed he thrusted into her from under. 

“You feel so,” She groaned before continuing “So fucking good Pete. You feel fucking amazing inside of me.” She finished before plunging down faster onto him, making him look at her mouth agape.  He could feel her clenching even harder and more frequently around him, combined with her wetness from the previous orgasm and just from sucking him off, it was almost too much. 

Peter looked down to see where they connected and saw his skin glistening just from her arousal, and felt even more turned on. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” He stated mindlessly, still in awe of how sexy she looked right now. In Peter’s point of view, he struggled with deciding what to focus on. 

The way her tits bounced in front of his face, the way her ass and thighs felt when they smacked on top of his thighs repeatedly, causing the the jiggle of her body to be even more apparent, or how fucking close she was holding him. She alternated from both her hands clenching into his shoulders, or one hand on the nape of his neck and another pulling on his brown curls. 

A bonus was how she sounded moaning his name and a string of praises for how he made her feel. 

Of course, she noticed this. 

“You like that don’t you?” Her voice caught his attention, barely realizing she was actually asking him a question

“What?” He breathed out, sounding just as fucked out as he looked, the sweat of each other making his hair stick to his forehead. 

“When I say nice things to you,” She obliged to Peter’s physical request of her to slow down, which was him just forcing her movements to stop by the way he grabbed her. 

“Mmm,” He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes and threw his head back on the couch, avoiding her quizzical stare. 

“C’mere,” She said, pulling herself forward by pushing her weight on his shoulders and rising from his, now aching, cock. 

Peter’s attention was caught, he shook his head in disbelief of her and opened his eyes, still hanging low to hide his irritation that her heat wasn’t surrounding him anymore.

“You’re so cute when you’re upset,” She fake pouted, then proceeded to giggle. Peter didn’t want to find it as cute as he did but he couldn’t help himself. 

“You really are a fucking tease, you know that?” He growled before grabbing her by her thighs to lower herself back onto him and raised his hips from the couch to fuck her on his own pace. The force from his strength caused her entire body to rock from each thrust, but she relished in it, moaning out praise for how good it made her feel. 

“Peter,” She yelped at a particularly hard thrust. “Just like that,” Peter’s head spun at this. 

“Yeah, keep doing that, please,” She begged, fucking begged, Peter to maintain the force he had brought upon her. It was then he knew he played right into what she wanted when she taunted him for his praise kink. (He was then making a mental note of how well she knows him and how he’s probably just a little predictable.)

Peter was practically drooling to see her come apart on top of him like this, he threw his head back in the pillows once again to enjoy the view and moved one of his hands to her clit, putting pressure on her, bringing her closer to her orgasm. 

He felt it building up by the way she clenched on his cock and couldn’t contain his moans any more. 

“Moan, please I wanna hear you when you cum inside me,” She commented once he let a particularly loud one escape his lips. He was both shocked and embarrassed at the effect she had on him, because he almost came apart immediately at the invitation to cum inside her. 

“You sure?” He whined, trying to bring her to finish before him.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there with you,” She said, finding his other hand on her waist and intertwining his fingers with her. 

“Please?” Once those words left her lips he was finished. He instantly came inside her, her following right after. 

Their orgasms swept them both away, sensitivity coming right after as she struggled to detach herself from him. Peter didn’t allow this and continued to fuck her through both their orgasms, relishing the pain and the pleasure this decision came with. 

Her head was back in the crook of his neck when their movements slowed down and they had to catch their breaths. 

Once their hearts reached a normal rate and they removed themselves off of each other, Peter broke the silence. 

“Are you still going to see him?” He asked rather timidly. She didn’t understand the sudden shyness but decided not to comment on it. She shrugged in response before answering honestly. 

“Probably,” She averted eye contact with him, looking at where their hands connected, ignoring their full frontal nudity because this was somehow more vulnerable. 

Peter’s heart dropped, he wasn’t expecting that response, nor his reaction to that response. Without thinking about the weight of what he was going to say next, because he hadn’t been doing much of that tonight, he continued. 

“What if you go out with me instead?”

She looked him in the eyes again before responding. She didn’t know what she saw in his eyes. It was a mixture of fear, desire and hope. 

Then, it was her turn not to think before she responded. 

“Like on a real date?” She realized how that sounded when she said it aloud. 

Peter nods, knowing what she meant. 

“I meant what I said about us,” He paused, watching for her reaction. She hung onto his words, encouraging him to continue. “I want to go out with you and if I’m your type then what’s stopping us?” He joked. In her head this was so unsurprising because it seemed right up his alley to joke about some offhand comment she made before they literally had sex and laughed, because of how predictable her best friend is. 

“Well why didn’t you say anything before?” She inquires, shaking her head at how ridiculous he sounded. She studied his features again before he answered, watching him turn a few shades of pink. 

“I didn’t want to mess anything up. I don’t fuck my friends you know.”

“Up until now,” Peter smirked at this comment, she was always so quick to rival his own quips. 

He let the silence simmer before responding because he wasn’t sure just how she felt about this, him, or what they just did. He was afraid he had permanently damaged the friendship and wasn’t sure how he was gonna come back from it if that were the case. 

So, he asked. 

“Is it weird now?” He spoke barely above a whisper. 

“What part?” She had to ask before she could answer. 

“That we did it backwards.” He exasperated, feeling unsure of himself now that he had to verbalize what he meant. 

She shrugged again, this time affectionately, not wanting Peter to get frustrated with her or himself. 

“Maybe it can be a good weird,” She affirmed his anxiety by clarifying. 

Peter’s stomach erupted in butterflies. “Yeah?” He raised his eyebrow in excitement. 

“Yeah.” She bit her lip before leaning in to kiss him once again. 

His hands dropped back down to her waist to bring her in closer as the certainty between them was solidified.

A/N: okay so when i was writing this i imagined comic book f4 johnny storm especially bc of the dynamic he has with peter in the comics (spideytorch my beloved) but when my friend reviewed this she asked if it was chris evans and while that wasn't the intention that made it so much better so just clarifying it wasnt on purpose but if you did that i hope it was fun

[literaila]

negotiating 

tasm!peter x reader 

summary: you wake up on peter’s chest. 

warnings: ‘tis just fluff

a/n: welcome to “verity is sick in bed so here comes an influx of blurbs” 

*

when you wake up, it's to peter's heart beating beneath your ear. 

a gentle lull in the dark; a trick he's playing on you. 

because you really shouldn't be asleep at three in the afternoon. and you'd promised him that you'd finish the movie. 

these are the thoughts you wake up to--head throbbing a bit more than it usually does. 

peter's heart laughs at you. it responds with a gentle call back to sleep, telling you that there's no need to be awake when you can fall back into the arms of not having to do a single thing. it sings to you, knowing how fragile your resolve is. 

and it would be nice. 

but you flinch awake, eyes opening all at once. 

you're right on top of peter, so he jolts with you, releasing a breath into the world. 

"woah," he says, hand around your back pulling you even tighter. "you okay?" 

his other hand is on your head, drawing a picture you'll never get to see. you almost keen into the touch. 

you blink away the sleep, looking up at him to find soft eyes on you, a smile, and a crinkle of concern. 

"how long was i asleep?" 

peter hums, rubbing a hand on your back. "about a half hour. not long." 

you frown. "is the movie over?" 

"i turned it off. we'll finish it some other time," he's smiling at you, just enough to ease that shame into your chest. 

you groan into his, tasting cotton. 

"i'm sorry, peter," you say, not that he can hear you, "we were going to finish it." 

peter laughs. his hand is still on your head, still tempting you with the idea of letting it drag you back down. he pulls you even closer, letting a kiss fall right beside his hand. "we were never going to finish it." 

"what'd you mean?" you mumble, into his shirt. 

"i just wanted you to lay down." 

you lift your head, only slightly. "this was a trap?" 

"yeah," peter purses his lips. "you weren't going to settle down any other way." 

"you tricked me with cuddles?" 

you can see it on his perfectly sculpted face--the effort not to laugh. 

"mutual benefits," peter says, simply. 

you push his hand off of your head and he scoffs. 

"i'm not cuddling with you anymore," you tell him, pouting. 

you both know that his hand is still wrapped around your waist in a makeshift hug. and you both know that you haven't moved an inch. 

still, peter's eyes soften. "i did it for you," he claims, with a face that is too sweet. 

you scowl. "you're a liar." 

he only smiles, brings his spare hand to trace your jaw. and he doesn't answer, because he has no excuse. 

"you wanted me to fall asleep so that you didn't have to spend time with me." 

peter laughs at the pure absurdity of that sentence. 

but you're still frowning, so he ruffles your hair. 

"on the contrary," peter says, close to your ear now. voice low enough that you know he's only saying it to you. "i wanted to cuddle with you on the couch for a little while." 

"you lured me in with a movie." 

his sweet words hold nothing to your stubbornness. especially when you've only just woken up. 

and you just completely ignore the hand on your back, rubbing tense places you'd forgotten existed. 

"you didn't want to watch a movie," peter claims. 

"maybe i did." 

"you fell asleep." 

"maybe i was listening to the movie." 

peter snorts. "you were snoring." 

"i do not snore, peter parker." 

the corners of his eyes crinkle, amused at you. at the angle you're at, you can see when he swallows. you can memorize the indents on his skin, sculpt him out of nothing. 

"you do snore," he says, softly. "it's adorable." 

"it's not adorable." 

peter looks up at the ceiling, and you watch his eyes as they move from place to place. "how would you know?" he asks, looking back at you. 

and you just about forget that you're arguing with him. 

you swallow. "i have an app." 

peter raises a brow. "an app?" 

"yes. it records me while i sleep." 

"does it?" 

"and i don't snore." 

at least peter's laugh is quiet. "you trust this app more than you trust me?" 

you pretend to think about it for a moment. 

to think about falling asleep at just the sound of his heart. 

"yes." 

peter mock drops his jaw, frowning. "and i thought you loved me." 

"what gave you that impression?" 

peter proceeds to stare at you for so long that you burst out giggling into his chest. 

and you can't see it, but he's smiling at you in a brand of adoration that is completely his own. he's completely entranced in every single beat of your heart. 

"i'm sorry for tricking you," peter says, to just your head. "but you were tired." 

"i thought you wanted to cuddle." 

"like i said: i got to cuddle and you got some more sleep. joint interest." 

"a breach of contract," you argue, looking back up at him. 

"how?" 

"you're supposed to bring me to bed when i fall asleep on the couch so that i'm not sore. paragraph seven." 

you feel peter's chest vibrate in a silent laugh. 

"i was acting as your bed. that's better than just throwing you on some mattress." 

"you are literally hard as stone." 

"...i'm going to take that as a compliment." 

"there is no fat here. just rock-hard abs," you poke his chest, laughing when he squirms just a little. 

"you know, you weren't complaining earlier when--" 

you groan into his chest and peter wraps you in his arms again, hugging you like he's not sure what else he can do. 

you lean into him, enjoying the warmth. 

enjoying the sound of his heart as it races below you. 

peter mumbles something that you can't hear, but you look up at him, questioning eyes. 

he shakes his head like he's changed his mind about something. "do you want to go to bed?" he whispers, thumb rubbing against your cheek, laughing when he feels you twitch beneath it. "you didn't sleep for very long." 

"can we just stay here?" 

you cuddle into his chest again, now allowing his heart to lure you. 

"sure, bug," peter says, softly. "whatever you want." 

and you fall asleep to the sound of his heart; clenched in your grasp. 

*

my masterlist here. 

tags:  @moonlarking-blog​ @v1ci0us​ @preciousbabypeter​ @alexxavicry​ @directioner5life​ @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​ @localrockstargf​

[lostalioth]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲

→ premise: it’s just so easy to overstimulate peter, especially with how sensitive he is when his spidey sense is on overload.

→ paring: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader – sub!peter

→ warnings: smut, overstimulation, praise [praising peter], oral [m & f receiving], hair pulling [reader pulling peters hair], nicknames [bug boy, baby, princess]

→ a/n: 01 kinktober

Peter loves being between your beautiful thighs. He can spend hours upon hours with his face buried in your cunt, pleasuring you. you had no issue with that in the beginning but it became an issue when even after he made you cum twice, he hasn’t stopped.

“Mhm! Pete, wait, slow down just a bit baby” you whimpered as Peter wouldn’t slow his mouth's assault on your abused and swollen clit. You were already very sensitive and overstimulated, you didn’t wanna cum again just yet so you needed him to be a bit gentler. In an attempt to steady your shaking body you grip onto the closest thing your hands could find, Pete's hair. Threading your fingers through his brown mess of hair and pulling a bit. With a small whine slipping past his lips he reluctantly lets go of your clit and looks up at you with glossed over eyes. “Easy bug boy” you grin, your voice coming out very seductive and hypothesizing to the now very pliable boy buried between your legs. “I just want to please you princess please” He groans and pushes forward trying to latch his mouth back on your throbbing clit. With the grip you still had on his hair you pull him back releasing a small moan from Peter's.

“Nuh uh, you've pleased me enough baby, made me cum like a good boy” He lets out a whimper at the praise and his face begins to redden. “Now let me please you baby boy okay, let me make you feel good” you smirk and let go of his hair to pull him up by arm.

“Yes please” he frantically nods with his eyes glued to you the whole time you pull him up. You slip your hand around the back of his neck and pull his face down to yours, resting your forehead against his. Peter's brain is very hazy and all he can focus on is your hands all over his body. Quickly you flip the two of you so you’re on top of him, you begin sliding down his body. You slip one hand up and under his shirt to rub his side and one down to tug the waistband of his boxers down. Peter whines and bucks his hips softly. “Be a good boy for me baby, can you do that?” You ask slightly mockingly as you finish tugging off his boxers and wrap your hand around his leaking pink cock.

With his face full of heat and redness he whines as an answer. “I need words sweet boy” you run your thumb over the slit in his cock causing him to twitch in your hands. “Please princess wanna be your good boy, wanna feel good” he groans as his eyes dart between your hand around him and your face. “There you go sweet baby, im gonna take such good care of you.” You smile up at your boy as he begins melting into your touch needing more. you begin licking strips from the base of his balls to the tip of his cock making him buck his hips. seeing the desperate look in peters eyes makes an evil smirk grow on your face, it still makes you give in to him in the end.

You slowly sink your mouth down onto him while running your tongue over the protruding vein on the underside of his cock. “Mhmm princess” Peter grunts and covers his mouth with the backside of his hand to suppress a wanton moan. Using the hand that’s still wrapped around Peter you begin jerking off the base of his cock sense you can't fit all of him in your mouth. Your free hand began rubbing his hip bone, you can feel the goosebumps beginning to rise on his skin. You notice Peter is a lot more reactive and sensitive to your touch as you're sucking him off. “Such a good boy for me, being so responsive and obedient baby boy” you continue to mumble praises around his cock sending vibrations through his body.

The praises filled Peter's ears and sounded like heaven and he was quickly becoming overstimulated from the warmth of your mouth around him, the praise going to his head and his cock, and everything around him felt like it was buzzing. His spidey sense was quickly overactive.

Peters hips kept bucking and was a squirming, whining, muttering mess in your hands the closer his release came.he sounded so angelic moaning and mumbling how sensitive he was and how overstimulated he was wanting you to stop but not stop. His senses were very confused and his brain was clouded so he couldn’t think straight. “I’m right here sweet boy, such a good boy baby. Just let go you’re okay. I know your sensitive but its okay baby” you rub circles on his hipbone attempting to clam him down but he only twitches from your touch.

With one last tug of his cock peter starts to fall to pieces. Incoherently mumbling, panting and whimpering as his hot cum shoots down your thorat. You swallow around him as his hip are twitching as his high slowly fades, your mouth not leaving him yet though. You attempt to slowly and gentle remove your mouth to not stimulate his swollen tip but fail. Peter lets out a loud whimper at the stimulation. “I’m sorry baby” your voice is laced with sympathy but you weren’t actually sorry, he was very cute and needy when overstimulated.

“You were such a good boy for me sweeties, my sweet boy did an amazing job” you pull your body up to give him a big kiss, making him whine cause his senses are still overloaded.

a/n: hope you all enjoyed the first day of my kinktober lovelies!