#peter parker dirty imagine

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 3- Feral! Miguel x reader

       Was it weird to want to have sex with a version of Spiderman while you were a Spider-woman? The thought had popped itself several times as you stared at Miguel O'Hara. The leader of the Spider Society; the Spiderman of the future; and the man of your dreams. It was no lie that Miguel was good looking. He was no Peter Parker. Hell, he barely even seemed human at times. His fangs, his strength, his everything was just so...amazing.

        You on the other hand were just another Spider here. You had been working at the Spider Society for almost a year now. From time to time you have bumped into Miguel, but were given the cold shoulder. It was sad, but you had to admire the man from a distance. It seemed like no matter how close to tried to get to him, Miguel would push you away. What were you to do?

        A soft sigh escaped you lips as you sat upside down in the cafeteria. Not many people were at the Spider Society today. Apparently, it was the anniversary for Uncle Ben's death. Only a few Spiders were keeping themselves preoccupied while others went to console their Aunt May. You had your own story. Your own lost ones. You were not a Peter Parker variant of any kind. You were different and special, but apparently not special enough for Miguel to even pay you mind.

"Ugh, what do I have to do?" You whined softly before remembering something, "Ah, since almost everyone is out, maybe he needs help!"

        That lightbulb that appeared above your head was a blessing. You decided to grab an extra empanada from the cafeteria and made you way over to Miguel's large office. Hopefully he would be in a mood to talk today. You were even bringing him a peace offering!

-------------

        Miguel hovered above his desk, trying to catch his breathe. He was rutting bad. Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Miguel tried to ease his pain by masturbating's, but it was of little help. He needed to be in someone. In you. A soft growl escaped his lips as he tried to picture you under him. How could he ever get close to you when all you ever did was smell so sweet. Miguel had to hold himself back from ravishing you every time you got near him.

        He wanted to fuck your brains out and plant a baby in you. Stroking his dick faster, Miguel tried to imagine your cries of pleasure. Your desperate moans for him to fill you. How dirty these thoughts were when he barely said a full sentence to you most days. The scent of your arousals every time he spoke to you was so tempting. 

"Hello? Miguel?" 

        Miguel halted immediately as something new drifted in the air. He sniffed towards your direction, eyes widening. Now was a horrible time for you to show up. You were ovulating and Miguel could smell it. 

"Is this a bad time?" The drop of your voice was cute.

"Mierda. (Fuck)" Miguel hissed before swinging before you, "You shouldn't have come here," He groaned, his large hands on your shoulders. Your heart skipped a beat,

"Sorry, I just wanted to see if you needed help," You admitted.

        You ignored the twisting feeling of your gut. Your spider senses were tingling, but you had an idea as to why. That look Miguel was giving you was making you wet. His hands moved up to your neck, tossing aside the container in your hand. Oh. You knew where this was going.

"I do need help," His voice was low and needy, "Te voy a follar tanto que no querrás volver a tu mundo. (I'm going to fuck you so much that you won't want to go back to your world.)"

        You inhaled deeply as your body turned to jelly. You understood that. Ohhhhhh, you understood that. Miguel inhaled deeply once more before crash his lips against yours. You did not have time to do anything before his talons ripped your suit. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, causing you to lose air. Miguel was making you dizzy from just his kisses.

        Miguel grabbed your hands as you tried to push his chest. You needed air. He webbed your hands to your back before ripping your panties off. Finally, you gasped. Miguel let you catch your breath as he grinded his hard erection against your cunt. Your heart rate had picked up as you listened to him groan and moan. This man whom you admired and dreamed of fucking, was making such sexy noises. To be fair, moans were coming out of your mouth from the friction he was giving you.

"Ya estás tan mojado para mí. Voy a llenarte. llenarte con mi semilla. (You're so wet for me already. I'm going to fill you up. Fill you up with my seed.)" He panted softly.

        You tried to get a word in, but Miguel had shoved his cock inside your folds. A loud gut wrenching moan escaped your lips as you tried to adjust to the sudden intrusion. He was so large. This was so sudden. Once more, you tried to say something, but Miguel pulled back and slammed himself inside you once more. Then again and again. His cock was bullying your pussy and you were loving every minute of it. He was making you wetter by the second.

        The gushing sounds your pussy made whenever he slammed his hips into yours were delicious. Miguel took your breast in his mouth, finally enjoying those moans he so desperately wanted to hear. Your tight walls sucking him more and more. Each orgasm he gave you, leaving him to want more. He was not going to stop. He needed to feel more.

"Di mi nombre. (Say my name.)" He demanded.

"Miguel! M-Miguel~" You repeated as he hit just the right spot.

        Miguel gripped your waist harshly, his talons threatening to pierce your skin. He brought his fangs to your neck, giving you a small bite. Yes, it would paralyze you, but that was what he wanted. Watching as your body arched for another orgasm, Miguel licked his lips. Your walls gushed around his cock, sucking him in for more. Complying, Miguel groaned as he filled you with his cum. A dark chuckle escaped his lips as he watched you pant for air.

        He laid you on your stomach, entering your throbbing hole once more. Your soft cries were music to his ears. You were begging him to give you a chance to relax, but why would he? Miguel was in heat and he finally got his cure. Pounding you harder than before, Miguel moaned softly as he felt himself twitch inside you. This was what he needed. What he wanted. To fill your womb with his seed. To impregnate you with his child.

"Ah~ Miguel~" You cried out. Miguel brought his fangs to your shoulder,

"No voy a parar pronto. No con lo bueno que estás siendo con mi polla. Tu dulce coño chupándome para obtener más semen. (I'm not stopping anytime soon. Not with how good you're being to my cock. Your sweet pussy sucking me for more of my cum.)" He whispered in your ear. You body shivered in delight,

"T-That's n-"

"I could smell how soaked your panties were every time you spoke to me. Do you know how hard it was to not fuck you each time?" Miguel threaten with a growl, shoving his cock deeper inside to fill you once more.

"Y-You could smell me?!" You squeaked in embarrassment.

        Miguel changed positions once more, placing you on his lap. He freed your hands, allowing you to wrap them around his neck. Miguel noticed that your legs were starting to grow numb. He wasn't sure if it was from his rough sex or the venom from his fangs.

"Si, mi amor. (Yes, my love) And right now, you came to me in heat while ovulating." 

You're burned up once you registered what he said. Realizing that he was determined to get you pregnant, you begged him to wait. Miguel ignored your adorable cries as he thrusted his hips upward. Despite your complaints, you obedienly bounced on his cock. You couldn't help but want to fuck him more. He was too good to stop.

Miguel licked his lips as he took your breasts in his mouth again. You tasted so sweet. Next time he was going to have to taste every part of your body. He had wanted to do it nice and slow, but you came onto him with your scent. Either way, Miguel was enjoying your body melting under his mouth. He watched as he brought out another orgasm from you. Your body laying against his from exhaustion.

"I never said we were done." Miguel smirked.

He laid your back against his desk once more, earning more cries and moans from you. Your body was being overstimulated. Miguel watched as you bit your lower lip, shaking in pleasure from him cumming inside you again. It was cute how you begged him to stop, but made such lewd faces when he filled you.

You on the other hand were so cock drunk to even think anymore. The only thing you can think about anymore was the feeling of Miguel's cock stuffing you full. You could feel your womb full of his cum, yet it still wasn' enough for him. You were seeing stars at this point as he kept bullying his cock into you.

"Hah, perfect fit. Your pussy was made for my cock," Miguel panted heavily, riding out another high. He brought you in for sloppy kiss, "Fuck, I can't wait to finally take you home. Fuck you everyday...hah, finally getting to taste you."

Miguel kept blabbering as he kept fucking you. He was enjoying this after months of denial. You were finally his and his alone.

------------

A soft groan escaped your lips as you finally started to come to. Your eyes fluttered opened. It took you a minute to adjust, but once you did, you noticed that you were in a bedroom. It wasn't yours. You attempted to get up, but your body was weak and sore.

"Morning, mi amor." Miguel said as he entered the room with a wet rag. You cooed softly as he placed the rag against your forehead,

"So it wasn't a wet dream," You muffle. Miguel resisted a chuckle, stroking your cheek,

"No."

"How long was I out?"

"..." Miguel furrowed his brows, "Two days," He told you, earning a shocked look.

"Two-Miguel!" Words were caught on your throat. Miguel stole a kiss from you, stroking your cheek,

"I had a small window. I made sure not a single second was wasted during your time." His smirk only grew, "But when you recover, I'm going to properly taste you."

"M-Miguel!"

The stamina this man had was going to make you lose your mind, but you loved it. Trying to hide your embarassment, you covered your face in the blanket.

"F-Fine, but go easy on me." You muttered. Miguel was taken back for a moment before hovering over you the next second,

"Guess I can't wait afterall. Thanks for the meal,"

[nouearth]

12 Months

peter parker x male reader.

series: 12 Months. part i.

summary: where you couldn't possibly imagine to find love and sanctuary anywhere else, you somehow find it in the presence of a boy named peter.

wc: 4.3k. genre: angst. warnings: loner!reader, sad!reader, implied abuse, implied bullying, high school senior year, slow-burn.

a/n: i'm trying something new with my writing! mostly not using all lowercase because it became a pain to type on my phone, LOL. but i welcome you guys to my fully planned series! it's exciting, but especially kind of scary since school is coming up. i might put off requests to focus on this, if it does well, but if not, i'll slowly update. i guess the reader kind of hits close to home, a little too close, since i've been feeling some type of way recently. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy the first part!

SEPTEMBER.

The big hand of the clock flicked closer to the end of the day, the small hand circling around the circumference to pass time. 

Conversations of peers were usually drowned out with the help of your earbuds. The gentle strum of acoustics would counter the excitement of the students’ well-being; friends opinionated in after-school activities, athletes talked about the upcoming game with your rival school, artists boasted over the amount of commissions they’ve received overnight.

For the first time, you heard it all, and took it all in with an inhale, then silence as you stared at Peter Parker. The earbuds were slotted into your ear canals, but today, the wired nubs were worn to merely dull your surroundings as you awaited the intercom to bid the occupants of the building farewell for the day. Your leg shook, bouncing your book bag atop of it, and you held it steady when you hugged it close to your chest, chin resting at the strap. It appeased the throttle in your chest, but every time the classmate opened his mouth for a laugh, it swelled painfully larger. A pump to the husk of a balloon, a breath to the bubble of blue raspberry bubblegum, a vapor to the particles of billowed smoke, it continued swelling and roped your anxiety along for the journey. A part of you needed to talk to him, but the other part begged for reconsideration. 

At some point, you forgot to breathe. Feeling blue in the cheeks, you finally exhaled the caught nerves. They drew out of you in shivers, spaghetti boiling in bubbling water if the warmth of your breath could change matter. While the man listened, then talked within his small group of friends, chairs and desks were gathered around to form a circle, you examined him cautiously. If Peter was to turn his head and meet the affection in your gaze, you were lucky to have the window by your side to turn back to, feigning interest in the clouds, the sky, the breeze in the trees. Until then, his smile unmasked pearly whites that rivaled the lights that illuminated the classroom. His russet hair was pushed back, wavy locks that were brushed simply so people could easily follow the pattern with one glance. 

“Gooooood Afternoon, Midtown!” The intercom blared, and a warning from your teacher hushed your classmates into a sea of scatters. “Before we send you kiddos off, we would like to remind all of you that the Midtown Tigers will be playing against Weston’s Sea Hawks tonight! Show your support by attending the game and cheering for our team. Let’s show those dirty hawks that tonight will be the night that we can bounce back from our 18th consecutive loss!” It continued with its usual announcements of bus delays and afternoon activities before finally blaring that cathartic bell.

Footsteps crowded the halls, and your classmates joined its symphony in heavy to light strides. While you watched, your pace slowed deliberately as Peter’s friends bid him farewell. You overheard them asking him if he was going to join them in the mall, but he declined, blaming his absence on his aunt. They left one by one, until the only occupants were you, your teacher, and Peter.

“Peter?” You were up on your feet, approaching him from the back of the classroom as you slung the bag over your shoulder. Your voice cracked from the parched of your throat, mousy in performance, and you were unsure if Peter heard you. Your mouth opened again to call to him again, but he turned with a friendly smile, raising his brows in interest, and they closed.

“Oh, hey!” His face lit up when he saw you, or maybe you were convincing yourself. Not even your reflection looked at you the way Peter did. You were even surprised he recognized you. Cared to remember you. He hurriedly threw his books into his backpack before swinging it over his shoulder, meeting you in the middle of the row of desks. “What’s up?”

“I…” You’ve only spoken to him twice. The first was a mere greeting, and the second was a painful answer to his worry. 

Are you okay? Yes.

The beating in your chest hiked in rhythms, compelled gravity to rob your voice, but you were conscious enough to steal it back, softly speaking. “I just want to thank you for… last year. I never got to… properly thank you. So, thank you…” You were intoxicated by the amount of times you said those appreciative words, but gratitude sobered you up, offering the latter a small, grateful smile. 

“Oh…” The smile on Peter’s face simmered into a relieved line. He then nodded towards the door for you to follow him, and you did, silently by his side. “You don’t have to thank me, (M/N). I did what anyone would do.”

Everyone let it happened, except for you.

The hallway was quick to clear as students rushed to spend the remaining hours of their Friday without any regrets. The silence was deafening except for the squeak of your shoes and the whispered gossip between faculty members, and for a place you often labeled as your personal hell, it wasn’t so bad when it was purged of those that spawned that definition in your life.

Maybe you were walking slower, or you were keeping with Peter’s pace, or the hallways had undergone construction to stretch the floors, or the awkward silence between the both of you that blurred your perception, but the travel from your classroom to the exit of the building was a journey.

“Is he still bothering you? I don’t know if he’s in your other classes, but he’s not in mine, so…” Peter spoke up, alluding to the classmate who called you disgusting names, shoved your books to the floor, stole the change of your clothes during gym. And you wished it would stop there, at the actions of the cliché bully trope, but it never did. He pushed the door open, politely letting you out first, and you stepped into the warmth with a small thank you,’ and continued walking with him. Summer cicadas harmonized in their greeting.

“No, not anymore.” You lied, dropping that hand that once held onto the padded straps of your backpack to your side. The dark color of your pants masked the bruise on your wrist when you shoved it deep into your pocket. “I have him in a few of my classes, but luckily he’s preoccupied with his friends.”

“Geez, you got his friends too? That’s… gotta be a loud classroom.” He laughed, and you joined in to delude yourself, and Peter, into thinking everything was okay.  

The sound of multiple engines running within the yellow busses reminded you how incredibly enamored you were with Peter. By now, motors would’ve been buried by earbuds, and the walk wouldn’t have been so deafening to your ear canals. But hearing Peter’s voice soothed the damage, and you wished you had a playlist of him saying your favorite words, reading your favorite novels, rescuing you with worried comfort. You wanted to continue the conversation, change the subject, but you never knew how, so it fell to silence. Again.

“I’ll see you around, Peter.” You spoke softly again, paused when you and Peter reached the end of the sidewalk. You were familiar with Peter’s route. He lived in the opposite side of your street, and the curved path to the right practically led him back to his apartment. All he had to do was follow the beige pavement. “…and thank you, again. It means a lot.” A genuine smile, one that you haven’t been able to sprout for weeks, months you could argue, and Peter’s breath hiked.

“Of course…” It took his breath away. The cloudy day was drawing in the last of its colors, but the rare hint of your teeth, the curve of your lips, made the sky above him, behind you, bloom in the softest blues, yellows, and whites. Selfishly, he wished you smiled more, because the release that was pulled from him evened the astonishment of a child seeing stars for the very first time. 

“I’ll see you around, (M/N).”

OCTOBER.

The workload in your classes had picked up, and with the part-time job at the local bookstore, you were envious of customers who had finished their backlog of novels. Mainly working adults. Still, there was never enough hours in the day to immerse yourself in the world of a brave protagonist, slaying off demons and dragons in the pursuit of love. You never got to finish the fantasy novel you were reading, but you’d imagine it ended with the hero beheading the fire-breathing behemoth, and its head would be pridefully worn on a stick like cotton candy. Cheers erupted when the character returned, then roared when their love blessed them with one thankful kiss.

The ladder was anchored to the wooden, though creaky, floors as you held your breath from inhaling dust. When the door was pushed open by curious passersby, particles of dust sailed with the draft that was invited in, and you coughed into the crook of your arm whenever one floated into your throat. Though, you couldn’t be too annoyed. It also provided a test to see if the Halloween decorations could withstand the wind as they sat on hooks that were nailed into the ceilings. Spirals of orange and black ribbons roped cartoonish gravestones, black cats, pumpkins, skulls, ghouls, all the mascots of the holiday, from above. The draft animated them in gentle swings, delicate arcs that cooled the confined space of the bookstore, but as far as you could tell, none of them had landed on the ground.

“Looks great, (M/N)! I think we’re good on the hanging decorations!” Your manager, Anna, gave the metal ladder a strong pat before tending to the fallen dust. It shook in fear, and you did too, immediately clutching to the fly to stabilize it.

“Any else? We still haven’t decorated the windows.” You climbed down cautiously, making sure she was in your line of sight because for all you could know, she could be an omen.

“The stick on the ones I got suck, so I was thinking that we’ll decorate it on Halloween? Before opening?” She said, opening the door after to sweep out the culprits of your coughing fits. 

“Sounds good.” You collapsed the extension of the ladder once you stepped off, folding it into a thicker shape, and nodded before returning the ladder to its rightful place in the storage room.

“Doing anything fun for Halloween?! Parties?!” Anna’s voice boomed despite the door muffling it. The natural luminous of her voice was something you usually cowered away from, especially when she called for you in front of customers. Luckily, the store was closed, vacant of any witnesses to the flare of your cheeks. Cardboard boxes stacked atop of one another, and for some reason, you were suddenly determined to face your procrastination head-on. “Horror movies?!”

“Uh…” The volume of your voice was still muted despite forcing yourself to make it sonorous. It came out in staggered breaths as you flattened the boxes with your weight, stepping on them at the crease and fold, until you were able to fold them into neat, flat shapes. “Not really! I usually don’t do anything for celebrations.”

“Seriously?” The sound of sweeps came closer to you. They sounded like laughs, almost as if they were mocking you. When you looked up, it was Anna’s fretted expression that reminded you that they were just sounds. No one was here to hurt you. Laugh at you. 

It was just you and Anna. And sounds.

“Mm-hmm.” You simply answered, packing the flattened boxes into a trash bag before storing it back to where the stack previously harbored. The room felt bigger now. You exited after switching off the lights, and took Anna’s broom to sweep up the fuzzy stray materials of cardboard. 

“How come?” Her shoulder supported her leaning stance as she pressed to the wall, watching you diligently work with crossed arms. She gasped out of realization. “Oh no—did something horrible happen on Halloween? Is that why you don’t celebrate?!”

“No, nothing like that!” You laughed. It was always genuine with her. Anna was at least twenty years older than you, but she still kept the youthfulness of a child. You were envious of it. 

“I just…” Big sweeps to walnut flooring kept your mind at ease. The thick hairs brushed evenly, catching lint in the hay. They clung protectively onto the strands the more you brushed, the harder as well. It reminded you of nights, lonesome in your bed. No matter how hard you tried to remove those pesky lints, they always stayed. Always found a way to intrude. “—don’t have parties to go to.”

Nor did you have friends to watch movies with, or a willing family to celebrate with if all plans fell through. It’s been you since you can remember, and you’ve gotten used to it. Though, you’d never admit that to her.

The trail of your voice and the mindless polishing of walnut immediately foiled your discreet speech, but Anna knew better than to prod. From the day you came in for the interview, she remembered the timidness of your slouch, your pattern of speech, your orbs. One could argue that they were nerves, universal tremors one every eighteen year old got when applying for their first job. Then, she trained you. It was just you and her, and the shelves of delicate books. Over the next few weeks, Anna learned that you were as frail as the old spine of donated hardbacks. 

Her knowledge of you only sank surface-deep, barely a scratch or a wound. At one point, she thought it was because of her personality: chipper as a mourning dove, loud as her neighbor’s lawnmower on Sundays, but compared to how she met you five months ago, it delighted her to see progress. Slowly but surely, you opened up to her. She knew your favorite color, your favorite meal, your favorite novel, and she was no longer insecure. There will be a time when she’d meet the root of your soul, and if it took a month, a year, or another, she’d wait.

“Everything okay at school?” She’s been meaning to ask. It was an exciting time for a new business, but incredibly stressful as well. Most never made it after six months, especially within an industry where independent bookstores have become increasingly difficult to sustain with the presence of technology. Anna was just fortunate enough to have seen such quick growth.

Anna took the broom from your hand, stashed it back in the storage room, then guided you to a table for two near the entrance of the store. It was her favorite spot because she loved seeing the wonderment of her customers when they left with the book they couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Yeah,” You quickly answered and offered her a simple smile, devoid of any purpose but to pacify her worries. It worked on your parents, and you liked to think that it worked on Anna as well. “Well, they’re doing some construction in the school gym. I heard that they’re planning to add a room for—“

“That’s great, (M/N), but…” Her arms remained crossed, below her chest, and she nodded to the bruise on your cheek. Purple bloomed high on your cheekbone. Occasionally, it throbbed whenever a draft hit your frail skin. You assumed it was its way to kiss it better, and so you would let it in seek of sating the empty feeling in your stomach. “That. I meant the bruise…”

“Oh—“ Out of instinct, your hand reached up to dab at the purpling skin. Numbed at the first layer, but you pressed deeper, and you hid a jolt with a sudden clear of your throat. “Uh… cat— got me. My mom always said to never play with strays.”

It was a lame excuse and you knew it. Anna did too. Before you could see her face scrunch into a stew of concern, you turned the bruised cheek away and looked to the heights of the sky, out the window, and wished you could fly into the night.

On Halloween, the promotion regarding a sale on donated books, though only paperbacks, if you wore a costume propelled the place to a considerable height. The small size of the store felt even smaller, even more so as Anna’s playlist Halloween music blared in the wall stereo. The sound waves and chatters of excited customers confined you, and you shrunk yourself in corners where it would be coldest. Anna took care of the crowd of patrons, while you assembled the paperbacks in a neatly order within the shelves. 

Anna didn’t expect you to comply in participating in the event of Halloween, so the elation in her face was immediately framed in your mind when she hugged you tight, bruising enough to beckon the former bruise on your cheek to reappear, in your Where’s Waldo outfit. Simple, but you were a simple man.

“Excuse me?” An inquisitive voice tore your focus from arranging the novels in alphabetical order. You were kneeling to fill the lower shelf that was too low for anyone to comfortable browse through, but maintained the position as the crowd seemed to have closed in on you. “Do you know if this book qualifies for the sale, or is it paperback only?”

You looked up through your artificial glasses, and the size of your eyes matched the roundness of your frames when it embarrassingly didn’t take you very long to uncover who was under the layer of green face paint. “Peter?”

“O-oh! (M/N), you work here?” His eyes also widened, but he was sober enough to reach his hand out for you to grab onto. “That’s fitting, I guess. You always went to the library during lunch—I-I mean, not that I watch you or anything. I just— happened to notice…” The heat from your palm jumped onto Peter’s when you held on and pulled yourself to your feet. You weren’t sure what to respond to first, but the closed distance between you and Peter was distracting. A fleeting feeling in your chest, and it still overstays it welcome when you backed a step away. 

Peter’s never been so close to you. He could smell the scent of ocean mist that he likened to previous shopping trips ago. His aunt may would drag him to the nearest retail store and he’d spend every second of the agonizing trip smelling laundry scent boosters while she stocked up on the pantry. He laughed to himself. You seemed like the type to use those.

“Thanks, uh…” You carefully took the hardback in your hand, examining it with several cycles of flips. It was in mint condition. Usually, a poorer state allowed an extra discount. “The sale is only for paperbacks, but…” Your eyes scanned the room. Fewer people now. Anna was still busy entertaining those that came to participate in the costume contest, a sudden endeavor to drive engagement.

“I can make an exception.” There was a swell in Peter’s heart when you gave him a smile, an uncertain small one, but nonetheless, a smile that warmed his insides. He wouldn’t have minded if he had paid full price anyhow, but he also wouldn’t reject the opportunity to save money. 

He followed your steps to the back, away from the engaged crowd, and stilled as you began checking him out. “Just one book?” You looked up, and his lips were already parted as if he was about to say something, but he nodded instead.

Another moment of silence as you took his card after applying the sale to his book, and your fingers drummed to the beat of the music to fill it out, awaiting the receipt to print out. Whenever you had the courage to look at him, he was immersed in the ambiance of the bookstore. Smiling to himself, to Anna, to the laughter of the crowd, and you couldn’t help but hide one yourself, to the ground. When Peter faced you again, you quickly looked away in time, and the receipt rolled out in one smooth motion.

“How are you? Is it always this busy? I’ve never heard of this place.” Peter had a habit of stacking multiple questions with his own observations, with statements, with more questions. Rambles, people would call it. He was attentive, curious, and it all made him the more endearing.

“I’ve been doing okay. Tired, mostly. Miss Wilson’s been keeping me up though.” It was your attempt at a joke, and luckily, it landed when Peter laughed in agreement, elated as if he’d been waiting for the culprit of all-nighters to be of subject.

“Right?!” Peter shook his head when you asked if he wanted a bag, and continued, tucking the book in his armpit when you returned it to him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love her—she’s awesome. But chill out on the essays! An essay about our essays is a task sent from the devil himself.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, and a wider smile brimmed your face in support. For the first time, you felt compelled to talk, to engage into conversation.  “Yeah, I missed a few deadlines, but she’s pretty lenient with late work, thankfully.”

“Really? I have a feeling it’s because it’s you! You’re probably her favorite student since you always get the right answers when she calls on you.” He laughed again to escape the awkwardness of his compliment. Subtle, but he hoped you took it pridefully.

Peter looked to the side to see if anyone was coming to conclude their purchase for the night, and was delighted to see the hardwood floor left unattended. “Are you doing anything after this? It’s Halloween, so I imagine people are probably out partying or something.”

“I’m not really a party person.” You nodded to assure yourself, mindlessly rearranging the supplies around the desk to avoid the gaze of his eyes. It sucked you in once, couldn’t look back even if you tried. It was only when Peter turned himself away that you were no longer staring into warm chestnuts. “I only dressed like this since I’d probably look a little out of place if I showed up in my usual uniform, haha.”

“You look cu—“ Peter hurriedly cut himself off, frantic before smiling again. “Nice. You look nice.”

“Thank you,” You returned his smile, soft in form. “What about you? Are you doing anything?”

“Well, I’m not a party person either—oh! There’s this new horror movie that came out a week ago! I’ve been dying to see it,” Peter sparked, gently bouncing on his toes as hope frayed within his words. “If you’re free, would you want to watch it with me?”

“Oh—“ For the first time, you had the option to say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and for some reason, Peter was always at the crime of your firsts. “W-what time? I’ll have to see if it’s okay with Anna if—“

“Let me see…” Light reflected off of Peter’s faced as he searched on his phone, but a buoyant smile that revealed his teeth shined brighter. “One showing at eight, another at ten, and one final one at midnight!”

“Is… midnight okay?” You hesitantly asked, and Peter brightened.

“Midnight is perfect.”

When you left from work, you didn’t bother to call for your parents. It would’ve gone to voicemail anyhow. Instead, Anna took the excited initiative to drive you to the theater despite your assurance that walking would’ve sufficed.

Nonsense! I’m getting my coat. Hold on! Stay right there!

The mystery of what held the rest of the night for you frightened you to the core. What if everything went downhill from here? What if Peter never showed up? What if this had been a prank all along? During the car ride, you breathed, and breathed, and breathed.

And then, breathed. 

Inhaled.

Blew in one continuous breath.

Inhaled.

Your chest ran steady again.

That night, Peter made you feel normal. As normal as someone like you could be. 

You didn’t plan on getting your fingers buttery, but Peter assured you that his  popcorn wasn’t going to finish itself. You shared your sour gummies in return. Peter jumped when a ghost flew to the screen, and you did the same from his own erratic movements. You watched the film through half-closed eyes, peeking between the cracks of your greasy fingers, prepared to be startled by the sound of a door closing, and you laughed silently to yourself because it was silly when you flinched to a cat scurrying away.

While you focused, the structure of your nose and lips, your entire side profile, were handsomely illuminated by the flickers of the screen and Peter took in the animation of your presence, a behemoth contrast of the you he’d known silently for years; the you that kept to himself, ate at lunch by himself, did group projects by himself, studied in the library by himself, walked home by himself. It was pathetic, many would heckle to their circle of friends. Peter overheard the tease and taunts, and he wanted to defend you in those moments. But he couldn’t, not until he knew you.

When you felt the air thicken, you turned to Peter and his gaze unfurled the heavy cloud between the two of you until it vanished into smoke. It sucked you in; his eyes. And you stared wide-eyed, bewildered and lost in the sea of broken stars the screen illustrated in Peter’s orbs. They twinkled with every cut of the scene, sparkling under the terror of the performer’s haunting, until they no longer didn’t when he turned away. 

Crimson blanched and wilted into his face, radiated even in the dark when you followed and turned back to the screen. You felt your cheeks rivaling in swatch.

For the first time, you weren’t scared. 

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[mandyvsfx]

Puberty.

Tom!Peter Parker X F!Reader

warnings: smut, masturbation, that's all for today.

it is currently 1AM, I have to wake up at 5 and here I am writing smut.

We all went through puberty, it SUCKS. But just imagine going through puberty with heightened senses... Let's see what it's like to be Peter Parker for a day.

"The shy ones are the the worst" People would say, but you just couldn't even imagine Peter or Ned having dirty thoughts. In your silly little head, they were completely pure, you were sure of it. That being said, it wasn't a surprise that you never noticed the way Peter would check you out ALL the time, especially when you wore that cute little red dress, he would compliment you NONSTOP and you would never have second thoughts about it, you just thought he was being really nice.

However, your girl friends wouldn't fail to notice each time he would stare you up and down, or how he tried SO hard not to stare right into your boobs when you wore anything that had a cleavage to it.

"Parker was checking you out AGAIN. I mean, he's kinda cute, you should do him." One of them whispered.

"If I were you, I'd have already..." The other one said.

"Could you guys just shut the fuck up? We've known each other since we were kids! He is not like that." You looked at both of them, clearly annoyed by the comments.

"You mean he isn't like my ex? The type that cums and goes?- She laughed- Well, then you better be quick or else I might just need to steal him from you."

Why were you even friends with them anyways? All they cared about was what was trending and which boys they should hook up with. It was fun at first, but it got repetitive and suffocating over time.

Time passed, school day was finally over. You didn't had the chance to talk to Peter much, just a quick 'hi' and that was it for the day. But you were happy since May had invited you for dinner, so you guys would have all the time in the world to talk about mind controlling villains, all kinds of aliens from alterspace. -Yes, you knew he was Spiderman.- Or just about homework, like normal teenagers.

You got there, chatted with May for a while and sat at the table.

"What is taking him so long? PETER!- She shout, no answers.- Can you go tell him dinner's ready? I made pizza for us!" May said, licking her lips and giggling.

And so you did, walking fast towards his room, until you heard something. That something made you slow your pace a little.

"Oh- oh fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck... shit."

It was Peter, was he injured? Maybe he just got back from fighting a robber or something. What if he needs help? What kind of friend would you be if you just turned around and left him there, possibly hurt? And then you heard it. Your name coming out of the boy's mouth. Only then you realized those noises weren't because he was in pain, Peter was rubbing one out at the thought of you.

You still doubted yourself, thinking your mind was only tricking you. You walked in closer to his door, that was parcially open, you could see his back and... You just stood there, frozen in place. He was actually touching himself. You could tell he was close by how fast his hand moved, almost like he was running out of time.

"Can't... hmm... can't do this... anymore... fuck." Your name kept falling from his lips, moans followed by moans, he sounded so needy, so desperate.

The one thing you didn't knew about Peter's heightened senses was that it affected other parts too... There would be times that he would keep masturbating over and over again and couldn't seem to be satisfied, like nothing was enough. He had never felt so much desire for someone the way he felt for you. Seeing you all cutey in that little skirt you wore to school that day, he had to hold himself the whole period so that he wouldn't just fuck you raw in the middle of the class for everyone to see. You were such a tease.

"Gonna... fuck- gonna cum..." Peter threw his head back, your name flowing from his lips. He looked so cute, you couldn't look away, it was like you were hypnotized.

You watched as he laid down on his bed, breathing heavily, one hand on his forehead cleaning the sweat.

"KIDS? What is taking you two so long?" You finally "woke up" and realized what you just witnessed, taking a few steps back before rushing to the kitchen.

"Sorry, he's... coming. Yes, that's it, he's coming." You said, stuttering a bit.

Peter quickly got dressed and joined you and May at the dinner table.

"I fell asleep, sorry. -He looked at May, then glanced over at you.- I... didn't know you were having dinner with us. We could've walked home together." He continued, looking down, never meeting your eyes.

Did he knew? He saw you? What was going to happen to your friendship? Was it ruined?

A million thoughts were running through your mind, but it suddenly went blank when you felt a warm hand slide to your inner thigh.

You looked up at him, visibly confused.

He would never do anything with May in the house tho, but at least now you knew his true intentions.

[bitchyycapricorn]

Warm Shower and Soft Kisses

Peter Parker x Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.3k

Synopsis: Peter takes care of you after you after you disappear for a week.

Warnings: Fluff!!, hurt/comfort, Peter taking care of his girl, Shower with Peter, technical nudity but no smut or descriptions.

AN: Can be imagined as any Peter, gif is just tasm. Lightly edited. Also I’m currently working on two requests so stay tuned <3

A chilly breeze rushes through your room, waking you from your slumber. Your eyes flutter open and lock on your open window that’s letting in the cold November breeze. “Fuck,” you mumble as you bury yourself deeper into your duvet, far too lazy to get up and actually shut the window. You’ve been like this for almost a week now, a lethargic shell of your former self hiding in your room away from the problems of the word.

You haven’t been up more than 10 times since it all started. You refuse to move unless you have to go to the bathroom, and even then you do that begrudgingly. On top of your refusal to move unless absolutely necessary, you find yourself calling out of work most days, unable to handle the thought of dealing with people. You’re also skipping classes and ignoring everyone’s attempts to contact you.

Your biggest issue at the current moment is Peter Parker, your boyfriend. He stops by your place at least twice a day since you disappearance. Your parents always sending him away per your request. You felt horrible for pushing Peter away, but you felt so sick and the thought of being with another person exhausts you. Your whole body was aching just from you laying silently below your covers after all.

Your quiet day comes to an end just as quickly as it starts when you hear Peter slipping through your window. “Y/N?” He whispers, approaching your shaking body that’s huddled under a pile of blankets. “Baby, what’s going on? Are you sick?” You feel him peeling the blankets off you, revealing just how horrible you look. Your eyes have heavy eye bag’s despite you sleeping most of your days, and it’s clear you haven’t showered since your disappearance.

When you look up you’re met with a face of concern. “Hi,” you say meekly. Your voice feels scratchy in your throat as you speak for the first time in a few days.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Peter presses the back of his hand to your forehead. “Sweetheart…”

You give Peter a small smile before feeling suddenly embarrassed, you can’t even remember at this point the last time you brushed your teeth. A frown settles on your face as you look up at Peter once more. “I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.” You whisper.

Peter frowns, stroking your cheek. “I can help you get a shower if you’d like baby?” You nod slowly, grateful for your boyfriends offer. You place your hand in his and allow him to lift you up and out of bed. You latch onto Peters arm the moment you stand up. It’s abundantly clear just how shaky your legs feel due to the lack of use.

Peter guides your wobbling body into your bathroom, turning on the lights and fan in the process. The bright lights are overwhelming as you sit on the bathroom sink, watching as Peter starts the shower for you. “Come on pretty girl, let’s get you cleaned up.” Peter smiles as he gently kisses your cheek.

You watch as Peter strips out of his clothes before helping you out of your own. The cool air sends a shiver down your spine. You take a moment to enjoy being out of your dirty cloths as Peter leads you under the warm water.

“Better?” He asks as he gently massages your scalp while placing kisses all over your face.

“Much,” you sigh, allowing your body to relax under his touch. You wait patiently as Peter lathers up his hands with Shampoo, just wanting to feel his hands in your hair again.

“Shall we get your hair washed m’lady?” Peters asks, not really waiting for a response since his fingers are already tangling in your hair before he finishes his sentence. You let out a small moan at the sensation of his fingers giving your scalp a deep massage. Every muscle in your body seems to let go in that moment, putting you into a state of calm.

Peter pulls away from your hair momentarily, lathering conditioner onto his hands before returning to your hair. “Thank you Peter,” you whisper softly, getting on your tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Anything for my girl,” he smiles.

You allow yourself to soak up the sensation of being clean along with Peters gentle hands slowly rubbing the soap bar all over your body.

“You look so pretty right now, I hope you know that.” Peter coos, also enjoying the feeling of his hands gently lathering soap into your plush skin. He’s been worrying sick about you for essentially the last week. Since you didn’t return a single phone call and when he knocks on the door your mom always tells him you aren’t feeling well.

You’ve been on Peters mind since the day of your mini disappearance, making him feel sick and lonely without you at night. He was missing the sound of your voice, the way you giggle and laugh, your bright smile and witty jokes. He was missing every inch of you, and now that you’re finally back in his arms he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle having to go home again.

You were both so caught up in one another’s presence you only notice how long it’s been when the water starts to get cold. You both let out a small laugh, rinsing off before hopping out of the shower.

Peter helps to dry your shivering body, hoping to warm you up as quick as possible. You aid Peter in drying off as well, wanting to help him like he’s been helping you.

Peter ruffles your hair in the towel before wrapping it around you once again and making his way to your sink to grab a toothbrush. He quickly gets some toothpaste and wets the brush, helping to ease it in your mouth.

He didn’t question why you haven’t showered it brushed your teeth, rather he just silently helps you do so, sprinkling words of encouragement along the way. “You’re doing great sweetheart, you have such a pretty smile you know.” Peter says as he continues to help you brush your teeth.

Despite your exhaustion you find the energy to throw your arms around Peter, toothbrush still sticking out of your mouth. He lets out a small laugh, hugging you back and kissing all over your face.

“Come on, let’s finish brushing your teeth so I can kiss your pretty lips,” Peter urges, as he helps you finish up. Once your teeth are clean Peter makes sure to press five kisses to your lips immediately, savoring the feeling of your lips on his.

“I should probably get dressed before we keep kissing,” you tease, starting to feel like yourself again.

“Mhm, how about some warm fuzzy pajamas?” Peter offers as he leads you over to the closet. He shuffle through some options before setting on your red t-shirt and short pajama set. “This one’s my favorite on you, and I know you’ve said it’s the most comfortable.” Peter smiles as he helps you into your cloths. He shuffles through some of the cloths he left at your place, throwing on a pair of boxers before leading you over to your bed.

“Peter?” You whisper, looking up at your boyfriend as you sit on your bed.

“Yes baby?” He hums, placing a kiss to your forehead.

“Can you cuddle me? Please?” You beg, craving Peters soft touch once again.

“Anything for you love, come on, crawl under the covers.” He replies as he helps you situate. He slowly pulls the covers up and around you both, holding you in his arms tightly.

“I love you Peter,” you say softly, feeling your eyes grow heavy once more.

“I love you too Y/N,” Peter hums, kissing your forehead one last time before you fall into a deep slumber.

+++

TAGLIST

[backtothefanfiction]

The Dishwasher | tasm!peter imagine

Summery: sure he dresses up in a costume and goes and fights crime in the city, but god forbid your boyfriend actually loads the dishwasher.

A/N: there has been a lot of rage in our house over dishwashers and clean dishes lately.

“PETER PARKER!!! I SWEAR TO GOD, I AM GOING TO PUNCH YOU IN THE FUCKING FACE!”

“What have I done now.” He innocently says as he comes to stand in the kitchen doorway. He’s already in his suit, his mask scrunched up in his hand.

“Uh uh. No.” You say, stepping forward to meet him, a face like thunder. “You have one job,” you say holding your finger up to him, “ONE JOB! In this house. I cook you dinner. I do your laundry for you. I clean the bathroom. Hoover the -entire- apartment. And all I ask in return is for you to do THE FUCKING DISHES BEFORE YOU GO OUT- IN YOUR STUPID SUIT-“

“It’s not stupid-“ he throws out but you cut him off and continue to talk over him.

“It’s one job Peter. ONE JOB. We even got you a fucking dishwasher so you wouldn’t have to spend ages washing up by hand and could go out on patrol sooner. I mean- COME ON!”

“Fine. FINE! I’ll do it!” He says, hands up placating you, just wishing you’d stop shouting at him.

You barely move as he gingerly steps around you, placing his mask on the kitchen side as he begins to reach for the days worth of dirty dishes stacked in the sink.

“Oh my god.” You sigh, your hands flying into your hair exasperatedly. “What are you doing?!”

“I’m loading the dishwasher.” He groans, annoyed at your micro managing.

“Peter, glasses do not go on the bottom!” He grumbles as he begins to move the glass onto the top rack instead. “When you put the glasses on the bottom, all the left over little bits of food on the plates end up sticking to the glasses and they don’t actually get clean.”

“Alright.” He huffs.

You watch as he then reaches for a small saucepan, also placing it onto the top tray. “Woah woah woah! What are you doing?!? Pans go on the bottom. Fuck Pete, no wonder half the glasses and bowls in the cupboard have crap dried to them. Did no one ever teach you how to load a dishwasher properly?”

“No, Aunt May always did the-“

“Nope. Nah uh. Don’t tell me you actually let that saint of a woman do everything for you when you have been more than capable to help out since you were 12 years old.”

He shied away from you guiltily. “She insisted.” He shrugged.

“No. No. That poor woman. Come here. Let me show you how to load a dishwasher properly so that you can do it every time we have dinner at her house for the rest of her life.”

You wish you could say that that was the very last time you nagged Peter about the dishwasher or how he loaded it. But unfortunately things with that man were never that simple. But no matter how hard he struggled with the simple task in his own home, he at least did do it at Aunt May’s house whenever you ate there, for the rest of her life.

[spider-stark]

Shutter

PETER PARKER X READER

Summary - You barely even remember Peter's name, but that hasn't stopped him from forming a dangerous obsession with you.

Warnings - 18+, mature themes, stalking, some non-con acts (taking pictures), -peter being a creep

a/n - this is literally just peter being a total stalker. i didn't proof-read this and i wrote it in like thirty minutes, but i just wanted it to stop living in my brain. get a restraining order against this man please

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

THE LOWER half of his body laid flat against the icy rooftop, the upper half having been propped up by his elbows. Shaky hands lifted the camera a few inches, carefully bringing it to his eye so he could peer through the viewfinder. 

He forced himself to take a deep breath, the sudden influx of frosty winter air stinging his lungs. With each moment that passed, his anxiety grew larger, gaze constantly flicking between his camera and his watch. 

It was already a quarter past nine, which meant that tonight you were approximately twenty minutes late getting home from your shift at the coffee shop. Nights like these were rare considering you were a creature of habit, but when they did occur, Peter often cursed you for having an apartment opposite of the entrance. 

He could never see when you were approaching the building, when you were entering the lobby; which meant his only signal that you made it in safe was when he’d finally see you through your bedroom window. 

Another glance to his watch, the thinnest hand ticking relentlessly with each passing second. He was becoming worried, beginning to consider abandoning his spot on the roof to come looking for you. This is why you need me, he thought to himself, teeth digging into his bottom lip, someone needs to look out for you. 

Yet, before his muscles could even shift the slightest bit, the sight of a light flicking on across the street caught his eye, the camera immediately rising back into his line of sight. “Welcome home,” he muttered to himself, a wave of relief washing over him as the corners of his lips twitched into a smile, watching you throw your bag onto your bed. 

A thin finger hovered above the shutter button, another deep breath as he worked to steady himself, ensuring the shot wouldn’t come out blurry. You were moving quick—too quick for him to get a good picture—kicking your dirty converse to the side of your nightstand. 

Poor thing– Peter cooed over you, snapping another few subpar shots as you pulled your top over your head–they must’ve made you work late tonight. You’re probably exhausted. 

Your boss was always overworking you, taking advantage of your good nature. A few times now Peter had considered paying him a visit, tired of sitting idly by as he ran you into the ground. Perhaps tonight would be what pushed him over the edge, having to wait impatiently for you to get home. 

New York’s a dangerous place for a woman—he would reason with himself—your boss should know that, too. He shouldn’t make you stay late, not when walking home at night is already unsafe for you. 

Peter hated that you walked home alone every night. Oftentimes, he considered asking you if he could walk you back, but always found himself stumbling over his words and deciding against it. Still, he often let himself imagine what it would be like to walk alongside you at night. 

He wanted a chance to get to know you better, a chance to hear you talk more. Peter loved talking to you, even if your conversations had been limited to nothing more than polite coffeehouse banter as he waited for his drink. 

Eventually, he figured, the two of you would get to know each other better. 

Eventually he wouldn’t have to go and threaten your boss for putting you in danger, perhaps he’d even begin to thank him for it, using it as another opportunity to be close to you. 

Eventually, he told himself, he wouldn’t need his camera and an abandoned rooftop to ensure that you were safe. 

And that’s all this was, wasn’t it? He was a hero, and that’s what heroes do. They protect the vulnerable, defend the innocent—and god, you were as innocent as it could get. You were too pure for this world, too kind to be subjected to the horrors that he witnessed on these streets everyday. 

But that’s why I’m here—he’d speak to you, as if you could actually hear him from where he hid—I’m gonna keep you safe. 

His intentions were pure, or at least that’s what he would tell himself. He didn’t often think about the more nefarious images that were stored in his memory card, not letting himself question the morality of his actions. After all, it wasn’t his fault that you never drew the curtains before getting undressed, as if beckoning him to admire your bare body. 

If anything, it served as another example of how innocent you were! You were so unsuspecting, so oblivious to the wicked nature of man. You were lucky that he watched over you, you were lucky that it was him snapping scandalous photos of you. Someone with ill-will might try to use them against you, maybe even blackmail you with them, but Peter? He would never. If anything, he would try to rationalize to himself, the pictures were your way of repaying him for protecting you. 

Nimble hands moved from the shutter to the zoom, adjusting the focal length to move closer in. “What’re you doing, silly girl?” he questioned, brown knitting together as he noticed the hasty way you shimmied out of your jeans. 

Most nights you took your time undressing, too tired from your long day to be bothered with moving quickly. Tonight, though, you seemed to be in an unusual hurry to shed the fabric covering your body. No need to rush, he mused, I’m not going anywhere. 

He snapped another picture, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of red lingerie. He had never seen this particular set before, nor had he ever known you to wear such tempting negligee under your work clothes. 

“Putting on a show tonight, are we?” 

Peter had a nasty habit of forgetting that you weren’t aware of his presence, that your actions weren’t for him. You had become such a big part of his life, such an integral component, that he often forgot that to you he was just another customer in a coffee shop. To him, his feelings were mutual, a shared sense of adoration that grew with each day. You just didn’t know it, yet—he’d try to remind himself—you just hadn’t realized much you needed him. 

His tongue darted across his lips, the sensitive skin becoming chapped by the frigid temperatures. “Where are you going?” He muttered aloud, carefully observing as you inched out of view, drifting towards your bedroom door again. 

A moment passed, then another, before you began traipsing backwards towards your bed. Your ass came into view first, just barely covered by the thin red fabric you adorned yourself with today (another click, another shot he’d put to use later), and then came the rest of you; hands reaching out in front of you, Peter’s heart lurching in his chest as he took in the sight unfolding before him.

You weren’t alone tonight, it seemed. 

Peter bit his tongue, choking back the expletives threatening to spill out and letting the sickening taste of copper overwhelm his senses. He averted his eyes, letting them fall a couple hundred feet to the street below him. The sight of you with another man was already bound to leave a mark on him, but the sight of you with him was worse. 

Harry’s a good guy—he thought to himself, roughly swallowing as he forced himself to look through the viewfinder once again. You were laid out against the mattress, gripping the duvet as his best friend's lips brushed against the crease of your thigh—but he’s not good enough for you. 

It was a problem, a simple kink in his plans to grow closer to you, but for every problem exists a solution; his mind already drifting off to the ways in which he’d deal with Harry. “It’s not your fault,” he breathed out, accepting an apology you hadn’t given, “you don’t know any better—but that’s okay. I’ll fix it for you, okay? I’ll get rid of him.” 

Not tonight, of course. He’d let you have tonight, let Harry borrow what he was so sure was rightfully his. For now, though, he’d stick around.

 Just in case—he snapped another picture, zooming a bit further as Harry’s fingers hooked around the red lace, pulling the fabric down and revealing you to not only himself, but also Peter— just to make sure you’re safe. 

a/n - GOD this was just living in my head today and i needed to get it out so i could stop thinking about it. and in case anyone was wondering, i am still 100% in my harry osborn/dane dehaan kick, and the fact that the tags are so dead will be the reason i fall into a depressive episode. so pls, for the love of all things holy, you guys need to go fall in love with dane ok cause i dont wanna be alone in this

[angstylittleb1tch]

Rain, Rain go away

Tasm!Peter Parker Imagine

Am I magically respawning after so long of being dead? No.......absolutely yes. Anyways here's a random Tasm!Peter Parker Imagine I had cooked up in my notes for a while, hope you guys like it, byeeee.

Peter parker hates the way rain ruins everything.

He hates how cold and sticky he feels when it rains. How the benches in his favorite park get wet and dirty. How he accidentally steps in multiple puddles of water while rushing to college. How his clothes get drenched running home when he forgets to bring an umbrella to the lab on unfortunate rainy days. How he has to wash his hair 3 times to get rid of the icky feeling rain leaves behind.

He hates how crimes rates always start to spike up in his neighborhood during the rainy days. He loathes having to sit in his bathroom and wash his now dirty AND wet spider suit. He hates how his heater magically breaks down everytime its raining leaving him freezing and irritated.

He absolutely despises the cold he catches everytime it rains because all the bad guys in town have made a pact to gang up on him in the middle of an intense rain shower when all he wants is to go home and sleep until he dies. He hates how cold his hands and feet become by the time he gets home and how it doesn't seem to go away.

Peter groans on and on about hating getting sick, sneezing everywhere and having a slight fever barely a day before huge projects that somehow always make up 60% of his grade. Even though he completely aces them dispite having a terrible fever the next day.

He hates the melancholy atmosphere and the patter of raindrops on his window keeping him awake most nights. He hates the smell of the earth mixing in with his morning coffee. It leaves a bitter taste on his tongue.

All in all, Peter parker hates the rain, yes. But he can't help the grin on his face when he finds you pulling him in to dance in the middle of the raining street with pure and un- adulterated love in your eyes. He absolutely loves the way you laugh and smile at him, your hands wrapped tight behind his neck and his on your waist, gently pulling you in. He adores the little blush you sport when he leans down to smother your face in light kisses as the rain falls coloring you both in its various shades. He loves watching your heart melt at the small 'I love you's' that spill out of his mouth as he spins you around blissfully unaware of the rain.

Because Peter loves the rain if it means he gets to hold you through it all and kiss you breathless till he forgets he ever hated it in the first place.

[tenaciousduckpoetry]

Temptation

Peter B Parker x Fem! Reader

Warning: nsfw, reader is younger than Peter (but is 18+), Peter and MJ have split up in this but they do co-parent, make out, slight exhibitionism ??, Peter's a man whore is what I'm getting at

You had been Mayday's babysitter for a year now. In this year Mayday had become quite close to you.

Unknowing to you, so had Peter B Parker.

Lingering glances and touches your way only became obvious at the Christmas party Peter invited you to (one that MJ was holding). You weren't the babysitter that night as they had hired a second person to do your job.

You thought it was weird, but oh well, you got payed enough for what you did anyway.

Your outfit consisted of a black shimmering dress, slimming and extenuating in all the right places. You wanted to make a good impression, especially since you were just a babysitter to everyone there

you noticed just how long Peter's hand seemed to linger against your hip when other people were around

The way his fingers dug into your flesh, sending shivers down your spine in the most pleasurable way

In a way that left you wanting more

The whisper and touch of his soft breath against your neck had your knees weak, buckling under the pressure of his presence

His hands grip your thighs as he pushes you against the kitchen counter, hiding from the curious eyes of the party

"Stay quiet.. don't want them to know about our fun, do you?"

His words have you shuddering again, head rolling back against his shoulder as soft lips press against your pulse

You feel the slight drag of teeth and whimper

Peter is enjoying each little whine and squirm he's gifted with

He drags you up the stairs, exchanging dirty words over hushed whispers

"Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me, baby.."

He has you pinned against a wall before you know it, hands exploring the supple skin underneath your clothes

Peter seems to seamlessly peel your panties off from under the dress, leaving you somewhat exposed as the black fabric scrunches at your hips

His fingers leave bruises in your hips that last for days. The red hand print on your ass didn't seem to disappear for a while eithor

Your moans and whimpers are music to his ears

That attempt to keep quite doesn't seem to work

He has you in every position imaginable

On your knees, fucking your face like there is no tomorrow, legs spread on the bed while your hands fist the sheets. Knees thrown over his shoulders as his tongue flicks against your clit.

All he wants is to please you

And he does just that.

Your knees are sore the next morning and knuckles are still somewhat white from how hard you clenched the sheets

Your dress seems to be ruined and you can't seem to find your panties anywhere

Peter greets you with coffee and a smile as if nothing happened, but you take note of that longing look in his eyes that shows he wants more than just one night.

[lyrasdrawer]

No juegues conmigo // Don't play with me.

Pairing: Spidy!Miguel O'hara x SpidyFem!Reader.

Miguel calls you to his office to tell you he's been hearing you playing with yourself at night. It doesn't go as planned.

Warnings: Dom Miguel. Masturbation. Toy usage. F receiving oral. Fingering. Language. Spanish speaker reader. Degradation. Choking. Biting/Clawing. Praise kink. Angst. Bondage. Please lmk if i gotta add any more warnings. MINORS DNI.

Part 1. / Part 2.

You arrived at your room after an exhausting day at HQ. Lyla woke you up at 7AM claiming that you were required at Miguel's head office. After a cold shower to wake you up you ran, already in a bad mood (since Lyla had insisted it was urgent and you couldn't stop for a coffee, souring your mood). Your arrival was indifferent to your overworked boss.

You knew better than to interrupt him while focused... But after a couple of long minutes had passed you climbed your way next to him on the platform.

"I know you sensed me, Miguel." You said, exasperation tinting your tone.

He barely acknowledged you, only gestured your way with his right hand an holographic screen with the anomaly's details. Opening a portal, you looked at him over your shoulder.

"Siempre un placer." Rolling your eyes, you jumped through.

Trsl: Always a pleasure.

You were so mad you couldn't even notice the blood drippling from his left hand, small crescend cuts opening his palm from where his talons were pressed.

You got back to HQ when everyone was leaving the cafeteria already. You plopped your ass on a bench without bothering to go get some food. Your stomach growled in protest, but you just laid your front against the table. The anomaly had given you some trouble, and you were too sore, AND too mad to get up.

"There you are!" Gwen's voice singed, sitting at your side. She looked at you. "Are you... Okay?"

You groaned in response.

"She's definitely in a mood." Peter B. Parker sat in front of you, with a tray full of pizza that made your had snap.

You snapped the tray out of his hands and starting devouring, trying not to laugh at the face of betrayal staring back at where his tray was a second before. He went back for more food and Gwen looked back at you, a smirk on her face.

"So you were hangry-"

"I am not hangry! I am - was hungry, yeah, but that doesn't have anything to do with my mood." You said and threw another slice of pizza on your mouth.

"Let me guess..." Peter was back with four hamburgers on a new tray "Your mood has to do with a 7 feet tall, thick, tan man who-"

Your death stare made him close his mouth shut.

"He has sent me to fight this HUGE bug, at 7AM, without letting me have a coffee..." You almost yelled. "And the worst is he didn't even SAID anything. He just-" You make the swiping hand gesture. "He's an asshole, I swear to god, le odio. " Your rant switched to your mother tongue without even realizing. Gwen put a comforting hand on your back. "Os juro que, if he dares to speak to me today I'm punching esa cara bonita."

Trsl: I hate him. I swear that. That pretty face.

Peter looked at Gwen wide-eyed. You rarely uppered your voice.

"She is definitely mad."

Miguel, luckily, didn't send you to another mission but, refusing to stay at HQ to avoid any chance of crossing by him, you went back to you own New York to go on patrol.

Back on your room, you slid off your suit and checked your bruised ribs in the mirror. "That fucking bug did me dirty". You scanned the rest of your body, poking on some light bruises on your legs making your mind think of two big hands who could probably bruise you better. You groaned. Not again. Putting on a loose shirt over, you dropped on the bed.

"I hate him" You tried to remember yourself but you couldn't stop your head from imagining his red stare looking at you, fangs out and hand on your throat, pressing oh so firmly. Tracing your palm down your abdomen, you thought of his talons grazing your skin. You almost growl in frustration, free hand reaching for the hem on your shirt and lifting above your breasts. You licked your fingertips before gracing on top of your nipple, liking things wet and sloppy. You reached for the drawer on the nightstand, rummaging inside until you found the hard, cold surface of your new play toy: a big glass dildo.

Miguel left the office back to his dorm, his mind reenacting the conversation (or lack of one) from a few hours ago. You were mad and he knew it. He deserved it. He hadn't called you to send you on that stupid mission. "Mierda, she could have hurted herself, it wasnt a solo mission". In fact, he had prepared a team already to go for that anomaly. Four people. But you managed it. Alone.

Miguel replayed on his head how that bug pushed you against a wall... He waited for you in the nursery but you didn't appear.

"Cabezona..." He muttered, fondly.

Trsl: stubborn.

He didn't want to send you on a mission. He wanted to talk to you... But then you reached his office, your scent filling his office making his head to spin... You were intoxicating, smelled so sweet to him. And he couldn't let you see him, haven't slept little to nothing, big bags under his eyes, and now almost drooling. He was paralized. An suddenly, you were next to him and he had to force himself not to look. God, he could almost taste you. So he clenched his fist, talons sharp against his skin just to be able to show you the screen (any screen that appeared, he couldn't concentrate in picking one) and you thought he was clear: an anomaly, fix it. But, no. No. He wanted to tell you he hadn't slept. Not today and not the days before.

His train of thought was interrupted by a sound. A whine. And he cursed. Your smell invaded his room as if you were there. And how you moaned. It send a shiver down his spine. A tightening pain direct to his crotch. That's what he wanted to tell you. That he heard. That he smelled.

"Mierda" He growled when a high pitched moan filled his room. His spider suit tight against his hardening cock.

Trsl: Shit.

He wanted to tell you that he could help. Fuck. He wanted to help. His head was full of images of you taking his length, your bratty comments long forgotten when you were so cock-drunk.

"Miguel" You mewled, and that was it. He was infront of your bedroom door, just the one below him, and knocked.

You froze. Panic driven, you hid the glass toy under your blankets and let your shirt cover your soaked thong. Your hand unlocked the door and you were looking straight to the suit covered chest of the man you were just fantasizing about.

"Hey... " Looking up, half a smile drawing on your face, you tried to play it cool. "W.what brings you here, O'Hara?"

"Stuttering and all, desastrosa" You thought.

Trsl: Messy/Disastrous.

Miguel was scanning you, red eyes fixated on your body almost hungry, looking your clearly hard nipples under your oversized t-shirt, where the hem touched your thights, barely covering your underwear.

"Miguel?" You asked, faked innocence covering your voice. You felt small, like his prey. A mouse under the deathly stare of a cat. But you couldn't lie to yourself. Not with how your tummy gave a twist, tickling your right between your legs. You loved it.

He took one step forward, towering you. You looked so small infront of him. Big doe eyes looking up at him and that hint of a smirk painting your puffy lips. He wanted to bite them.

"Such a whore" He mumbled. You bit your lip. "You do it on purpose, don't you, princesa?" He caressed your cheek, putting a wild strand of hair behind your ear. You yield to his touch, eyes closed, heart running on your chest. "You left your window open so I could hear all that pretty moans while you fucked yourself to me, hm?" He grabbed your neck. "Such a naughty girl you are..."

Trsl: Princess.

Your eyes flipped open, breath stucked on your throat and he chuckled at that sight. His big hand on your small neck, eyes wide, breathing caught. You looked so cute like that. Almost scared. And he made sure to record that image right on his head. He leaned for a kiss, licking your lower lip temptingly, and your hands jumped to his neck to bring him closer, kissing him eagerly, small whimpers escaping your lips.

"So needy" He cooed, fangs pressing against your lip and tugging, forcing a small whine from you.

You both tumbled to your bed, lips crashing against each other, bodies pressed impossibly close and he sat you on top of his thights, hands on your hips to push your throbbing cunt against his crotch.

"M.Miguel" You moaned, and he moved your hips again, making him growl.

"Stand up." He ordered, and you obliged, legs trembling from your make out session. "How am I gonna punish you, hm?" He looked around your room thoughtfully, until his gaze locked in something. He looked back at you, pouting from the lack of attention. He suppressed a smile. Adorable. "Strip."

You tucked the hem of your shirt, taking it slowly, teasing. Shirt off, you turned around to remove your thong, legs straight and bending from the waist down, your hands making a show in removing them off.

"Dios... No sabes lo que me haces" Big hand slapped your ass, leaving a bright red print that made you squeal.

Trsl: God... You don't know what you do to me.

You turned around, smirk showing while you bit you lower lip.

"You could show me" Your voice defying with a bratty attitude.

He stood up, grabbing you by the neck. He pushed you against your open kitchen counter top. "Hands up" He growled in your ear, making you shiver. Confused as you were, you obeyed as he webbed your hands up on the ceiling, making you stand against the counter tiptoing. He let you go and observed you from a distance, his hand palming his hard length through his suit. Your lips parted and nearly salivated at the sight, making him laugh at the need plastered all over your face. "So desperate to be used, aren't you princesa?" You were nodding before he was done talking, inner thighs pressed and rubbed, trying to make as much friction as they could and relief your burning heat...

Trsl: Princess.

He bent on his knees, forcing your thights to part and placing them on your shoulders. Your smell made him dizzy, god, so sweet he could eat you out for hours. He gave a small lick, flat tongue against your dripping pussy. You sighted in relief, your pussy receiving that much needed attention.

"So wet for me, aren't you, arañita?" He looked up at you, cockily. You looked gorgeous, head tilted back, arched on top of him letting him see your soft breasts. "Mírame" He ordered, talons clawing on your thights.

Trsl: Little spider. Look at me.

You lowered your head, half-lidded eyes looking at him.

"Good girl."

You clenched your walls on nothing at the praising, and squeezed his head with your legs, urging him to continue. He laughed at the action and lapped against your cunt again. He worked wonders with his tongue, switching from sucking and circling his tongue against your clit to lapping his tongue flat agains your lips, making you a moaning mess within minutes. You noticed the pressure building up in your lower half, making your breath shaky and your body to shiver, trying to move your hips to get to your orgasm. And just like that, he stopped.

"Fuuck!" You groaned. Opening your eyes and looking at him in disbelief "Why? I was-" Whinning, you tried to get an answer but were cut by Miguel getting up and kneeling yourself on the counter. He slapped your cunt, a cry getting past your lips.

"Because..." He answered, putting your glass dildo on top of the counter, between your legs. "You gotta win it, princesa." A mischievous smile showed across his face. It was a punishment, after all, and you thought he had forgotten it. "Go ahead, fuck yourself for papi."

Trsl: Princess. Daddy.

You swallowed, hard, and lined your hips with the tip of your toy.

"M.Miguel" You looked at him, desperate, but his gaze was fixed on the glass tip, waiting. "Please..."

"I'm not gonna say it again."

That made you lower your hips slowly, bitting your lip. The dildo was big, you couldn't manage to fit more than half of it before, on your own, but looking at the bulge that was marked on Miguel's suit, you knew you'd have way more trouble with him. You started a steady pace, whinning softly while fucking yourself with the toy.

Miguel suit vanished, his length freed and hard aginst his chest. You couldn't stop staring, drooling thinking about having him fucking your throat raw. You fucked yourself harder on the toy, trying to fit more of your toy in.

"You like what you see?" He raised his eyebrow, amused.

"I w.want you t.to-" You moaned, knowing you were almost there again.

"What do you want, princesa?" Hi said, stroking himself at the sight: you struggling to fit the dildo in, drooling over the image of his cock. God you were gorgeous and he was holding himself to not fuck you dumb right there. He wanted to make you beg.

Trsl: Princess.

"To... Fuck my throat" You whispered, cheeks red.

"What was that? Hm?" He got closer, grapping your hip and forcing yourself lower on the toy with every movement of your hips.

"T.too much" You cried. "I- No puedo, Miguel, too much!"

Trsl: I can't.

"Yes, you can" He guided your hips, noticing how your legs were too shaky to keep yourself moving. "Just a bit more..." He released his cock to start circling his thum around your clit. Your brows furrowed, trying to focus on your movement but the pleasure was too much. You were moaning Miguel's name over and over, like a mantra.

"C.can I?" You asked, sending a rush of heat straight to Miguel's crotch. You had asked for permission, so submissive his sweet princesa, that he couldn't deny you.

Trsl: Princess.

"Go ahead, cum form papi." He ordered, and with that you were done. Your back arched, head falling back and moaning nonsenses while Miguel helped you ride your high.

Trsl: Daddy.

Notes: Sooo there you go! My first fic. I want to give a big THANKYOU to @tarjapearce for the help and I'm definitely doing a part two of this ^-^. If you want to be tagged please lmk!

[fcknstar]

hi babe! yup i do actually! i just havent really thought of any ideas, so itd be a pleasure for me to work on your imagine request! but yes, if youd like, i can think of some soon! /// I'm glad you write dark stuff... could you write about harry being a stalker, obsessive, needy, possessive and jealous of the reader? (female reader)

hihi!! thank you for the request, the ending has mentions of bj and if you dont like it you can skip that! im not entirely sure if youll like this but here you go! i might do a redo to this, not entirely sure tho.

,, our own needs "

harryosborn x reader x peterparker

a.n : when i got the request, i was quite excited. its abit challenging but it was fun to work on nonetheless! this is my very very first time writing smut btw!

warnings : possession/obsession/stalker-like-behaviour/needy/jealous harry osborn (thats a mouthful, literally) , MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! , oral sex (m receiving) , masturbation , slight peter parker x reader , lmk if i missed some.

**lowercase intended**

harry seemed like a normal ceo, one that looks strict with a constant expression on which was hardly ever readable. you, being his assistant hardly ever got to know harry. you were just carrying out your job and wanted to get it over quick. harry has 'thrown' himself onto you multiple times, but you were quick to dismiss it thinking that he was probably joking around wanting to keep things professional with him. 

what you didnt know was that harry liked you, a lot. probably too much that he knows every detail in your life, what you liked, what you hated, who dated you and so on. what didnt help was the his penthouse was opposite your apartment. he basically saw everything that happened as your apartment was a level lower from his.

" f-fuck, (y/n) " harrys hips buckled into his fist. he tried his hardest to contain his moans, but the images of you changing clouded his mind edged further into his climax. it wasnt his first time masturbating at the thought of you naked, on top of him and tearing him apart or pictures of you that he took without your acknowledgement. he knew hed be damned if you were to find out about his dirty little secrets. as much as he wants to destroy you, he cant help but find himself crumble under your touch. 

he didnt know whether it was his hormones changing or the way you knew how to get him weak on his knees. what really did it for him was when you came to work in those filthy black dress that hugged your figure perfectly. the way he had to hold himself back and learn self control before he could even rip your dress apart to fuck you deep and slow, show you who you belong to. but again, it was only his imagination of you that kept him going. as much as he wanted to keep things professional between you both, he couldnt help but imagine the drama and mess that could happen if you found him moaning your name while touching his needy self or worse, someone walking into the whimpering mess you are while harrys in you. 

while harry felt a knot deep in his stomach, he saw a cctv camera from his desk, you and someone walking towards the entrance of his office. cursing under his breathe, he had to quickly clean and zip himself up knowing how embarrassed he would be if you and someone foreign were to see him fucking his fist. he felt deeply uncomfortable not being able to release such pain and pleasure he was currently feeling. and there you walked in, with peter parker. right, he was deep in thought of you that he had forgotten his appointment with peter. 

" sir, peter parker. " you had missed the way his gaze faltered when you addressed him so highly. the way your voice intoxicated him that he knew he was about to cum on the spot. swallowing harshly and walking towards you and peter not realizing how wobbly he was, knocked down a vase of his desk. 

" m sorry, just abit clumsy right now " harry let out a breathy laugh when he saw you walking towards him with such concern in your eyes. 

" you okay? " again, it wasnt like he didnt get enough attention from everyone, but the way you showed such sweet concern towards him made him want more. when he saw you kneeling down to help clean the shattered glass, he felt his heart beat faster and vision beginning to blur out. 'so this is how she looks like..' he thought. 

but once you picked up a piece of glass, harry stopped you. insisting that he was able to call a cleaner up to clear the mess. nodding, you left the two boys alone. 

" bye peter " you gave a little wave towards peter. peters gaze softened, seemingly pleased that you acknowledged him. harry didnt like the way peters gaze followed you out of the door. for a man who got everything in his life, he seemed very jealous of peter. you had never seen peter in your life, and now you are all over peter? waving goodbye to him?

turning around to face harry, peter was quick to notice harrys hard look. 

" my assistant, shes very.. " as harry was about to compliment every part of you, wanting to make it clear that you are his and his only, peter cuts him off. 

" very beautiful. " harry merely let out a nod, feeling abit too tense. harry and peter had a long conversation about harrys new military body armor that he was going to work on. 

when peter walked out of the door after talking to harry, he bumped into you. 

" hi. " peter breathed out. he didnt know your name, remembering that you were only referred to as harrys assistant. the only reason why harry didnt want to mention your name was because he felt the need to protect such an angelic name, and wanted to be the only one to moan it while thinking about you. 

" hi peter. " you greeted back. it felt as if peter was in a trance when he didnt say anything. laughing quietly, you went around peter to get into harrys office. but before you could even get to it, peter stopped you. you felt your whole body tense up when you felt peters hand touch your stomach. you knew how attractive peter was upon meeting him, how slim and built he was. how gentle his hand touched you. looking up at him, you quirked an eyebrow. 

" your name? " 

" oh, (y/n). " peter voiced your name out repeatedly in his mind. when peter placed his hand down, you were about to walk past him when he stopped you again. 

" heres my number, i want to get to know you more. " it sounded more like a question than an actual statement. when he placed the crumpled paper with his number in your palm, he smiled when you didnt reject it. 

" will do. " you whispered, waving him goodbye.

walking into harrys office, you notice him drinking down a shot of alcohol. it was barely five and hes already drinking. 

when harry felt a presence behind him, he turned. 

" oh, its you " he didnt mean to come off as rude but the images of you and peter interacting outside his office infuriated him. he was always watching you. 

" uhm, yea its me? anyways, i was about to inform you that you have nothing else planned for the day. " you looked up from your tablet, making sure you got it right. harry caught on to your first sentence, he heard how hurt you were but it was probably just his imagination. 

nodding in acknowledgment he walked towards you. when he was close enough, he cant help but smell the cherry scent you had on. grabbing the tablet off your hand and placing it on the nearby desk, he let his hand fondle with your arms, rubbing it slowly. harrys love eyes for you had turned to something more than that and was jealousy-drunk despite drinking. harry needed a few shots to make the alcohol take effect, so he was moderately sober. 

he let his mind wild free and began holding you close to him and began swaying from side to side to the nonexistent music. being confused, you pulled away, your action angering harry. 

" sir, i don't think itd be- " 

" shh. all i need is you, so please " harry had barely rasped out. he didnt care about anything as his only focus was on you. 

" you can tell me to stop if you dont want it, okay? " harry began to hold you, resting his right arm on your head, playing with your hair, with his other hand on your waist, thumb gently rubbing circles.

and there you were, letting your guard down. you didn't realize how much you liked harry, to blinded in the duties of work. when he felt you lean into his touch, he couldnt help but smile, planting kisses on the crown of your head. 

harrys lips then moved towards your cheek, planting a peck. you didnt know what you wanted at the moment, too unsure about the consequences if you let this continue, but you were also dazed to care as the man you wanted dearly was finally giving you what you wanted. 

harry then held your face with his hands. your expression was unreadable. you could tell that harry was very hesitant to kiss you. i mean, harry did say that you could ask him to stop if you didn't want any of it, but he was still unsure. helping harry understand you better, your arms snacked around his neck making his arms move to your waist, smashing your lips onto his. the moment felt so unreal, it wasnt like his imagination, it was better. as much as he wanted to fight for dominance, he moaned into your mouth when you bit his bottom lip. allowing entrance quickly he leaned you against the desk, trying to stabilize you better. he let you take control quickly and it was so out of his character because one would think that he is very dominant, but with a single touch he was soon crumbling under your touch. he tried to deepen the kiss, as if you are the last thing on earth that can make him survive. as if you are the oxygen he needs. when he heard you moan when he placed his knee in between your legs, he swore he felt his whole body heat up. 

pulling away to catch your breath, harry leaned towards your neck, hands gripping your hair to grant him more excess to your neck. it was as if he was a vampire and dearly needed blood. the way he sucked your neck, leaving tender kisses and bruises on it, marking you immediately. you have slept with a few people, but they didn't feel like this. you felt like you were in heaven with the way harry touched you. you have neglected your feelings way too well to not realize the way your heart yearned for harry. pushing harry of off you confused him. why did you want to stop now? noticing an office chair near you, you pushed harry down. climbing onto his lap, you began attacking his neck.

" f-fuck (y/n) " placing his hand onto your waist to try and pull your body closer to his. he cant help remind himself of his own whereabouts, his office. part of him is slightly eager to find out what were to happen if you both gets found out, but part of him wants this moment to be uninterrupted. but he couldnt contain himself when you knew how to push him over the edge. he felt you grind against his growing erection, you played with him like you knew how to please him. climbing off his lap and kneeling down in front of him, harry tried to keep eye contact. your expression questioning him for consent and without a doubt he whimpered a 'please'

without wasting time, you unzip his pants which showed you off a better outline of his dick. pulling his pants down enough, you take his erection in your hand. 

" oh god, fuck " it felt even better than he imagined. his body shivered when your thumb glide over his tip, thats already sticky with precum. 

" please (y/n), fucking please " harry begged to be destroyed. 

" just one gentle touch and youre already a whimpering mess.. " you whispered to no one at all, but harry heard it and replied with another strangled moan. " i wonder howd you react if i put you in my mouth " you continued, he loved the way you teased him. pumping him slowly, you began placing soft kisses onto his tip. 

" fuck, better than i have imagined " he saw how dark you gaze became. 

" imagined? why imagine when you have the real thing in front of you? " harry felt his body go limp and the immense amount of pleasure was throwing him off the boat. with every hard and fast pump, he felt a familiar knot in his stomach that he felt earlier in the day. that was when you finally put his whole into your mouth. you couldnt lie to yourself, you were enjoying it. the guys that ever slept with you only wanted to dominate you and not vice versa. although you did enjoy it, this experience was new to you. hollowing your cheeks out and began sucking harshly, harry tried to contain himself and stop himself from cumming, which from his end was tough considering the way you toyed around with him. due to his loud moans, you stopped. pulling away, you saw needy harry was. harry felt lonely and empty without any contact with you. 

" shh, if you want me to continue, you have to be a good boy and shut it " 

" please i want you " untying his tie that he had on, you rolled it small enough to put into harry mouth. 

going back to your previous actions, you began sucking hard and pumping what your mouth couldn't take. that was when you felt harry grip onto your hair. you enjoyed it, the hair pulling. it did turn you on, making you moan against his dick. harry, feeling the vibrations of your moan on his dick, moaned loudly into his tie. feeling his dick twitch multiple times, you released. 

" cum for me sir. " was what did it for him. webs of cum began painting your mouth, and you didnt waste anytime tasting it. the sight of you on your knees, with his cum all over you made harry feel different. it was all real, he reminded himself. he finally had you, after seeing you go out on dates with multiple guys. 

[selfcarecap]

Hotel [p.p]

pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!reader

summary: You and Peter spend the night at a hotel after a mission. When you can’t sleep, you decide to tire yourself out, not knowing that Peter’s wide awake too, listening, and he wants nothing more than to join in.

warnings: smut (masturbation (f + m), oral (f + m), reader masturbates w peter in the room without his consent but he likes it so (but don’t be like her irl), don’t think there is anything else??

word count: 3.4k (omg i just spontaneously added 1k in the last hour lmfao)

had to write this before i could write anything else, my brain just wouldn’t let me lol

Peter watches you drop to the bed with a sigh, cuddling into the sheets as soon as you land on the mattress. 

You’re exhausted from the mission you two just completed.

Peter was thrilled when you were told it was just the two of you, and doing the mission together brought you even closer than he was hoping.

He's had a crush on you since he’s known you but he’s always been hesitant in talking to you; in his eyes you’re too cool for him so he never thought you’d be interested in being friends with him. But now, after inevitably spending weeks together while working on the mission, he would say, without a doubt, that you two are friends.

He can still get shy around you, but that is more his own insecurity than how you treat him. Yes, he still thinks you’re too cool for him. But as long as you haven’t realised that, he loves being with you. But while being your friend is more than he could have ever asked for, he still wishes that one day you’re going to be more than that.

He also secretly hoped that there was only going to be one bed in your hotel room. You’d end up sharing it, wake up in each other’s arms and you’d realise you’re in love with Peter.

And indeed, there is only one bed. 

Only one single bed. And a sofa. 

So of course, out of politeness, Peter took the sofa without hesitation. 

And now he’s lying on it, and he wants nothing more than to sleep, but he just can’t keep his eyes shut. No matter how hard he fought on that mission only a few hours ago, his mind is racing with thoughts of you and your relationship to Peter so his physical exhaustion means nothing.

He’s wide awake.

No matter what he does, no matter what position he lies in and no matter how tired he is, he can’t fall asleep. 

“Peter?”

He furrows his eyebrows when he hears you whisper his name. Maybe he’s dreaming after all. 

You don’t say his name again, so maybe he really did imagine it. 

But then he hears you shifting on the bed. Maybe you can’t sleep either. Were you about to invite him to a late-night cuddle session—okay, Peter be realistic—a late-night talking session that he’s been hoping for? Those late-night talks always strengthen a bond between two people and so far Peter hasn’t really had many conversations like that with y—

His heart skips a beat when he hears something wet. Something in your mouth. 

Are you— no, he’s too dirty-minded. It can’t be. 

Maybe you’re drinking something or eating a snack. 

But why does Peter feel like he can’t move? You think he’s asleep right now and it would be better if it stayed like that, otherwise you might stop whatever you’re doing. If you’re even doing what he thinks you are. 

He tries to get his mind out of the gutter, but everything he hears points to you doing one thing.

All he hears is wetness. More and more wetness. The clicking of your wrist from doing the same movement over and over again. Your breaths becoming more shallow, your heartbeat speeding up. 

He keeps hearing more and more wet as your breathing becomes louder.

In the last minute, Peter has managed to turn towards you a few inches without making a sound and he can see how your legs are propped up.

He’s not imagining it; you’re masturbating. And you’re in the same room as Peter.

Peter is so hard that it hurts and he wants nothing more than to relieve that ache, but he’s not sure if he can do that noiselessly and the last thing he wants you to do is stop.

So he listens, painfully but happily, to you fucking your wet pussy. At some point you whimper and slap your hand over your mouth when you realise how loud it was. You don’t check if Peter heard though, too distracted by your orgasm that Peter can practically hear.

Your bed creaks and you slowly calm down, your underwear snapping against your skin, probably when you pull your hand out of it. The next thing Peter hears is more wet; you’re tasting yourself.

That’s it. Peter can’t take it anymore.

He sits up, “You need help cleaning up?” It’s weaker and quieter than he wanted it to sound, but he’s proud that he managed to say anything to you at all in this situation.

You don’t answer for a while and then you sit up too, whispering through the dark, “What?” 

You probably thought he was asleep, he did make sure to seem like he was sleeping for the last five minutes.

“I asked if you need help cleaning up.” Now that he’s saying it a second time, it sounds less sexy than he thought but again, he’s glad he has the confidence to say anything remotely sexual to you.

“W-with what?” 

“I couldn’t sleep either,” he tells you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to uh.. I thought you were sleeping.”

Peter knows you like confident men. You dated Steve at some point and you dated Sam for a while. You dated Captain America—both of them. They’re the fucking epitome of confidence and virility. Peter can’t fuck this up now because he’s too shy. 

“No, no. It’s okay. I’m asking if I can uh eat you out.” Apart from the little stutter, that sounded okay. 

You turn on your bedside lamp, possibly seeing the insecurity in Peter’s eyes now. He braces himself for the rejection, or maybe even a laugh from you at the thought that you’d actually go for Peter.

“You sure?” You ask simply, a smirk on your face. Peter nods and gets up, heart racing, watching you as you pull your panties down your legs and throw them across the room somewhere.

“Are you sure?” He asks absentmindedly, mesmerised by the sight of your glistening pussy.

You press your thighs together, obstructing Peter’s view of what’s between them, “Yeah. Are you sleepwalking right now or something?”

“No, I’ve just uh. Never done this before?” He’s unsure if he should tell you that.

“Never?”

He shakes his head and your smile widens, “This is going to be fun. Come here.” You pull him onto the bed and spread your thighs to make room for Peter.

He leans in and is met with the smell of your arousal. He breathes you in, already weak in the knees as he leans his forehead against the hair above your pussy, burying his face in you.

You smell like heaven. 

You let him enjoy you for a few moments, watching him as he tastes you for the first time. He hums as soon as his tongue is on your pussy, overwhelmed by how wet you already are and at the same time wanting to drown in you. 

Peter looks up at you and sees you distractedly biting your fingertip between your teeth. You sit up and push your finger into his mouth instead, then two, and he eagerly sucks them.

You bite your lip while you watch him for a while, and he takes your fingers as deep into his mouth as he can. “Mhmm, so good for me. C’mere,” you retract your hand and put it behind his neck to pull him close to you. You push your tongue into his mouth and it’s overpowering in the best way possible. 

Peter waits a second to kiss you back, trying to properly make himself realise that he’s actually kissing you. He takes your face between his hands and you two kiss for what feels like hours, and they’re the best hours of Peter’s life. 

When you pull away, Peter realises you were only kissing for a few seconds. You wipe the spit away from the side of your mouth and scoot back a bit, smiling before you lie down on your propped up pillows. 

He has to take in your beautiful, grinning face - grinning because you kissed Peter, before he can focus on your pussy again. 

You put a hand in Peter’s hair as you lazily smile down at him. You’re getting tired — Peter is too, it's late and the exhaustion seems to be finally getting to you two — so he can’t bore you now. He doesn’t want you falling asleep while he‘s supposed to be making a good first impression eating you out. 

He swallows as he lies down between your legs, spreading your lips with his thumbs to see you clenching around nothing. “Fuck, that’s so hot,” he whispers, slowly licking your pussy from the bottom to the top a few times. 

He flattens his tongue against your skin as he hums at your taste, “You’re so fucking pretty.” He closes his eyes to further revel in the heaven that he’s currently in until he feels a slight tug at his hair. 

He looks up to find your gaze on him, and you’re smiling. 

“What?” He asks, “Am I- am I doing something wrong?”

You shake your head, lightly scratching Peter’s scalp — that’s all you could do for the rest of Peter’s life and he’d be happy. “Not at all, I just don’t think anyone I’ve ever been with has been that in love with my pussy.”

He looks down as he strokes your inner thigh with his thumb, “Is uh… is that a bad thing?”

“No,” you say, “It’s the best thing. Stop worrying and make me cum now.” It sounds like an order at first but Peter sees your soft smile as you close your eyes and lie your head back, trusting Peter to make you feel good. And you know he wants this just as much as you. 

He smiles, getting another look at your pussy before he starts; he’s imagined this so many times.

Peter starts by kissing you right on your clit a few times, he sees it as foreplay before he dives in with his tongue but somehow he just keeps doing it. 

It’s like he’s making out with your pussy, adding his tongue and sucking your clit a few times, your tiny moans turning him on as he starts grinding against the mattress. You’ve pulled your shirt up over your chest, cupping one of your tits and rubbing your nipple with a wet fingertip.

Peter enjoys every second as he drinks from your pussy, making out with it. Your juices and Peter’s spit are everywhere and he instinctively starts to move faster when he notices your body tensing up more and more.

“Fuck Peter I’m gonna–”

It’s addicting how you cum on Peter’s face, one of your hands in his hair, pulling his head to wherever you need it most as you push his face between your thighs, rubbing his tongue against your clit until you’re finished and the wet sound it creates is obscene. 

You let go of his hair and your body goes slack as your breathing evens out again. “No way you haven’t done that before,” you lift your head to smile at him and pull your shirt back down your torso.

He smiles at you, not commenting but taking the compliment.

You keep eye contact for a few seconds and sit up. He thinks you’re about to kiss him again but you look away at the last second, “Peter, I’m way too tired to return the favour but that felt really good.”

“Oh, no it’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“Okay.. Goodnight,” you kiss his cheek after all, lying back down and two seconds later you seem to be out like a light.

He’s kind of glad that you don’t return the favour. He’s so close to an orgasm already after eating you out that he’d cum really fast and he doesn’t want you thinking he can only last two seconds. And, if there is anything after tonight, he wants his first time with you where he gets involved too to be more special – not with you two half asleep. Not that he‘s complaining about what just happened, he never would, not in a million years. 

He goes to the bathroom to take care of himself, pulling his pants down just enough to free his cock as soon he closes the door and leans his back against it. He closes his eyes and thinks back to the image of your pussy that he memorised perfectly; he jerks off to the mental picture of how your face looked when Peter made you cum.

He clenches his jaw to stop himself from moaning when he gets close, precum all over his fingers. He cums into the palm of his hand and cleans up quickly, tired by now.

You’re lying on the edge of your bed and he wonders if you left room for him on purpose. He couldn’t take you rejecting him now but something tells him to try; you’re not breathing deeply enough to be completely gone yet.

Peter slowly lowers himself onto your mattress as not to scare you, ready to get off if you push him away or show no reaction because you’re too fast asleep to notice him.

You reach for Peter’s wrist immediately, pulling his arm over yourself, scooting over so his chest is flush against your back. You make a little noise of contentment once you’ve completely snuggled up to Peter.

He falls asleep with a big smile on his face.

You both sleep in until you get up to go shower and Peter gets a call that you’ll both be picked up to go home soon. He nearly forgot about this trip and that him going down on you wasn’t the most important part of it – well, at least objectively it wasn‘t.

He stretches after he sits up and begins packing the few items he had with him on the mission. He freezes when he sees your panties on the sofa; you must have thrown them there last night.

He picks them up and brings them to his face out of instinct, trying to relive last night. The smell of your arousal is still on your underwear and he greedily inhales it, cock already stirring in his pants. He shoves the material into his pocket when he hears you coming out of the bathroom.

You just have a towel around you that drop without second thought when you stand in front of the bed, gathering your clothes. Peter gulps; your bedside lamp wasn’t the brightest last night and you’ve certainly never changed in front of him before. 

Does that mean it’s not a one time thing? You didn’t say much to him in the morning but you didn’t ask him to get off of you either - he held you in his arms the entire night.

You lean over the bed, touching all over it as you look for something. “Have you seen my underwear? I don’t know where I threw it last night.”

Peter shakes his head with his lips pressed together.

“It’s not like I could have worn it again anyway, but I didn’t bring another pair,” you pick your towel up again, loosely wrapping it around yourself.

You check your phone and turn towards Peter, “Actually.. we still have twenty minutes,” you let go of your towel again and Peter watches it pool at your feet. He takes in your whole body, and hears you say “So, about last night.. Can I return the favour now?”

You say it with a smile plastered on your face that lets Peter know he’s not the only one who feels the sexual attraction. By the time you walk over to him, Peter watching your tits bounce with every step, he’s completely hard and he hasn‘t stopped nodding at your question, squeaking out a yes. 

You pull down his shorts and get on your knees between Peter’s legs.

“Then sit back and relax.”

You lick your lips as your eyes go over Peter’s hard dick. Your eyes are excited as you look up at him, making Peter’s heart skip a beat.

“Here,” you order as you hold your opened palm in front of Peter’s mouth and he leans forward, not sure what you want from him.

“Spit?” He asks, and you nod with a smile so he spits into your hand. You use it to coat his entire dick, and you start to jerk him off, slowly. You smirk at him, watching him squirm as you tease him.

You lower your head, tongue sticking out, only an inch or two away from Peter’s dick, “Wait,” you stop. Peter nearly whines but manages to stop himself. Your facial expression has changed into something indecipherable.

“Peter, I.. I really like you. After spending so much time together, you really mean a lot to me and I don’t want to do this if it’s just a one time thing to you.”

Peter can’t believe what he’s hearing. He’s distracted at first because your hand is still wrapped around him but you drop your hand to rest on your thigh when you see his eyes going down to his lap.

He doesn’t know how he even manages to talk with so much joy filling up his entire body, but somehow it works, “I don’t want it to be a one time thing either. I’ve liked you since I’ve known you,” he tells you, a smile taking over his whole face.

Your grin is as wide as his as you sit up and pull him closer to you by his shirt, kissing him as he lifts you onto his lap. You kiss until you’re out of breath, not wanting to let go of each other.

“We need to make you cum before they pick us up, but we can make out all you want after,” you climb off his lap and sit back between his legs. “Okay,” he breathes, not sure if having your mouth on his lips or on his dick is going to feel better. He probably loves both.

Neither of you has stopped smiling and Peter can’t look at you for too long, the happiness is too intense to believe, it’s making his cheeks hurt.

He holds one of your hands, both of you smiling like crazy, and you take him into your mouth, warm and wet pleasure enveloping him. He licks your palm this time as you hold it in front of his mouth, using your hand to focus on his balls.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” Peter whispers as you maintain eye contact while his cock disappears in your mouth, your tongue on his sensitive vein, and it makes Peter moan louder than he expected.

You hum against his skin, lips wrapped around the head of his cock, wet and sensitive. Your hand speeds up around the length of him as your lips stay spread around the tip, taking only a bit of him, but it’s more than enough to make pleasure bubble up in his whole body.

“Oh my god, I need to, fuck I’m gonna–” he tries to warn you but you want him to cum in your mouth, jerking him off so his cum lands on your tongue, white splatters of him coating it and he moans at the mere sight of it as his orgasm pulses through him.

You swallow and take him into your mouth once more to make sure you get every last drop of him, and he can’t believe the’s going to be experiencing this regularly from now on, not to mention how he can repeat what he did last night, over and over and over. 

But what he’s even more excited about is that he gets to kiss you, hold you close, and know that you like him the same way he likes you. You pull his shorts back up and he lifts you immediately, peppering your face with kisses, your wonderful laugh blessing his ears.

When he tries to put his feelings into words though, it’s not as easy as he feels it in his heart, “I’m so… I…” he sighs; he was able to tell you how much he likes you only a few minutes ago and he doesn’t intend to leave it at that.

“It’s okay,” you put a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes as if he’s the only thing that matters, “Me too.”

Peter’s phone rings with a call telling him that you can go outside now to be taken back home. 

Before you get up, you share a look that says more than words can. You can’t wait to see what the future holds for you two, simply happy that you get to be with each other.

[mtayl0rr]

The Anomaly: 3

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f!Original Character Rating: Mature Length: 2.1K Summary: Nobody gets the upper hand on Spider-Man 2099. Nobody, until a strange anomaly slipped from his grasp. Now, he’ll stop at nothing until he finds her. Warnings: enemies to lovers, eventual smut, cannon typical violence, graphic depictions of violence, Miguel is a bitch but so is she, cursing, angst, etc. trauma Note: TBH not happy with this but I wrote myself into a wall and this chapter gets me out of it lol. BUT it serves a big purpose so stick with me on this.

Madelynn was sick and tired of running for her life. The winding halls of the League’s HQ helped her to disappear into the swarms of spider-people, but she knew that the tranquilizer would only buy her a few precious minutes. She had to be out of there before 2099 even opened his eyes. 

Miguel.

That was his name. 

The memory of it falling from her lips tainted her mouth like a poison. It felt wrong to call him that; the name that belonged to her best friend back on her home Earth. Before the incident, they were each other's rock. The dark and dank city streets were their canvases, and they painted them with adventures in the night. Her Miguel was different; scrawny and blonde, more adjacent to a Peter Parker than anything else. A sad Irish boy became Spider-Man to protect those in need. He had the biggest heart imaginable. He died that way too.

No, 2099 would never be “Miguel” to her. He was the opposite of her best friend; dark and cruel. He didn’t deserve to share his name. The only thing that linked them together was the emblem painted on their chests, the red spider. Exactly the same. A part of her had hoped that saying his name wouldn’t work; that she was wrong about the connection. But no, they were somehow variants, and it ripped her heart out. 

Pushing the thoughts aside, Madelynn rounded another corner, losing her footing as she dodged a sea of league members. Her red hair was slick with sweat and blood, the bite on her neck throbbing. She had to find somewhere to hide and fix the dressing quickly before the tranquilizer was expelled from 2099’s system and he was on the hunt again. The skin around where he bit her felt tainted; a white hot memory of his lips on her skin, or the way her blood dripped from his mouth, mixing with the venom from his fangs. It was sickening. 

Even still, knowing that he was facing the same thing she had; powerless to a drug administered by the enemy, made her heart swell. A smile cracked at her worried face at the thought of 2099’s massive body sprawled across the floor like a rag doll, his face buried in dirty concrete. She managed to beat him at his own poorly executed game. He knew nothing about her, or where she came from. He was at a complete disadvantage when it came to what she could do, or what secret trick was up her sleeve. All he knows now is that like most other spider-people, she knew her way around a lab. 

Bursting through a door into a dark room, Madelynn took a minute to catch her breath. Light leaked in through the thin windows that lined the walls, illuminating the fact that the room was absolutely barren, save a few pieces of broken equipment. Backing into a corner that wasn’t visible, Madelynn sank to the floor, pressing her palm to the burning mark on her neck. Blood coated her fingers, the gauze completely soaked through.

Alone, with nothing but the frenzy of her own thoughts to keep her company, Madelynn ripped off part of her sleeve, pressing it to the wound. Rapid healing was not one of her powers, a sick twist of fate that she cursed after every battle. That spider only bit her a few months ago, and she had only the faintest idea what she was truly capable of. 

A tingle shot up her spine as the door creaked open, and Madelynn saw a figure pop her head in, the glowing orange hue of her watch illuminating her face in the darkness. She then entered the room, spotting Madelynn crouched in the corner grasping at her belt for another syringe. 

“Woah there,” the woman laughed gently. “I swear that I’m not here to hurt you, Madelynn.”

“How the hell do you know my name,” she snapped, standing quickly and ignoring the way her head spun. 

“Diagnostic check on your mask. Loose strands of hair and whatnot. Look, hun, I’m trying to vouch for you here, but when Miguel wakes up, he won’t be very keen on listening,” she quickly said, moving towards Madelynn with a glimmer of hope in her eyes that seemed misplaced. 

Her heart dropped at the mention of his name, eyes aflame with fury. “Listen lady, I’m not here to join your little book club. I have much better things to do with my time.”

“Like running?” the woman deadpanned, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“I think it’s great exercise.”

“Listen, Madelynn. My name is Jessica Drew,” the woman began, one hand resting on her stomach. “I’m really trying to help you here. I know what you’re running from; what you’re hunting down. We have the resources here to aid you. I know Miguel can be-”

“No,” Madelynn interjected. “2099 clearly will stop at nothing to catch me. I’m not parking myself here until he wakes up. I have things to attend to.”

“What happened to your universe’s Miguel was horrible,” Jess sighed, growing more desperate as the conversation stretched on. “But, you can’t change the canon. His addiction was always going to happen.”

It took Madelynn a minute to process. “What do you mean,” she asked hesitantly, unsure if she even wanted the answer.

“Your Miguel’s addiction to Rapture was an absolute point in the canon of the universe. It was always going to happen, no matter what measures you took to try and change it.”

“I’m not trying to change the past,” Madelynn snapped, swallowing her pain. “I’m looking for the one who gave it to him. They left through a portal that looks just like yours.”

“Then let us help you.”

“Why? Why do you care so much?”

“Because you remind me of someone I know who was on the same path. I couldn’t save them from destroying everything they knew. Madelynn, we have the materials to help you find whoever you’re looking for, and if they’re moving through dimensions like you said, then it’s our problem too.”

The room was spinning as Madelynn tightened the fabric from her sleeve around her neck, holding the makeshift gauze in place. She was beaten down, desperate, and alone in her battle. The only lead she had led her here. Now, she was stranded alone without a lifeboat, her mind sinking in the sea of failure. Jess was throwing her a ring. 

“What about 2099?” she asked, the mention of him sending a shockwave of pain through the marks he left on her body. 

“Let me handle him.”

“I don’t trust that,” Madelynn bit, moving closer to Jess. “I need a solid answer now, or I walk. That tranq will wear off any minute now.”

“Your problem is your unrealistic expectations of how life works. You can’t trust everything, but you can trust me. I’ll handle it.” Jess held her stare for a beat, letting her first lesson sink in. 

“How’d you track me here?” Madelynn asked, testing how much Jess was willing to reveal.

“Lucky guess,” she deadpanned, fixing her hair in the dim light reflecting off a glass frame on the wall. “So are you in or out?” 

*~*

Miguel’s office was a complete mess, with papers and equipment covering the once clean floors. The desk on the platform was nearly empty now, all of its usual content becoming a victim of his rage. The anomaly had bested him again. She slipped away again. This was no longer a chance for the greater good of the multiverse. No, this was about pride. That and something smaller that simmered in the depths of his soul, locked away behind a wall of unspoken emotions.

“Lyla,” he barked, impatiently waiting for her form to hover above his watch. “Where’s that mask I took from the anomaly earlier? Run tests on it.”

“Jess already beat you to it.”

“I beg your pardon?” He seethed, sharp claws scratching the metal of his desk. 

“She grabbed it while you were knocked out. Sent it down to Spider-Byte for an analysis.”

“And you did nothing to stop this?”

“Hey, I figured it would save you some time,” the AI shrugged, lounging in the air.

“Then at least tell me what we found out,” Miguel snapped, slamming his other palm on the table. 

“Only if you ask me nicely”

“LYLA-“ he screamed, the skin of his face turning the same shade of his eyes. 

“Okay fine. Jeez, someone’s man-strating. Her name is Madelynn. No last name on file, but her canon event seems to be the death of her parents when she was younger. Robbery gone wrong. She’s from Earth-W245Q, bit by a spider 4 months ago.” 

Great. Not only was he outsmarted by someone, but it also happened to be someone who’s only been a Spider-Man for 4 months. Her image was burned behind his eyelids; the way her red wine hair fell down her back like blood against her makeshift black suit. His tongue was still haunted with the phantom grace of her blood, his shoulder still warm with the weight of her body as he carried her through the portal. He had her trapped. After chasing her universe to universe, he finally won. Until he hadn't. 

“Track the day pass,” he ordered, running his fingers through his hair. “She has no means of getting out of Nueva York; there's no way she’s gotten far.” 

“Yeah, about that…” Lyla began, shrinking back into herself, bracing for another outburst. “Jess beat you to that too.”

“What the hell do you mean?” 

“She’s already tracked and found the anomaly.”

“Coordinates,” he demanded. 

“Miguel, maybe this-“

“Coordinates, now.”

“Floor 400, room 378B,” Lyla sighed, clearly nervous about what Miguel had planned. She hadn’t even finished speaking before Miguel launched himself into a mad dash towards the room, using webs to catapult himself up through the levels. His rage was animalistic, his claws leaving deep scratches on any surface they grasped. In no time at all, he was at the door, breaking it down with one swift kick. There, he saw the anomaly and Jess shaking hands as if they were becoming business partners. 

He rushed towards Madelynn, but she slipped out of the way, giving her enough time to tie Miguel’s wrists and legs together with her webbing. 

“Okay maybe that wasn’t the best choice,” Jess commented, stepping in front of the anomaly. “Miguel, I need you to listen to me.”

“After you went behind my back?” He snapped, venom dripping from his fangs. 

“She’s chasing another anomaly, Miguel. It’s technically our problem too!”

“So we send her home and do it ourselves.”

“Going off what information? She has the knowledge to catch this guy.” Miguel locked eyes with Madelynn, a fire raging in his chest. She looked calm and collected but he could smell the fear in her body. “Clearly she’s more than capable of fighting and thinking on her feet, too,” Jess suggested, glancing at Miguel’s bound wrists and syringe wound. 

He took a second to consider. There were some fair points. “I’ll cut you a deal. Assist us in finding the anomaly you’ve been searching for. Then, I send you home. If I even catch a glimpse of you using this facility for anything other than what I tell you to do, I’ll kill you. Your job is to find this fugitive, and find the fugitive only. You are not part of the society, or my team. Understand?”

Madelynn exchanged a glance with Jess for reassurance, unsure whether this was a fair deal. 

“This is the best you’re gonna get from him, Madelynn,” Jess whispered, out of Miguel’s earshot. 

“Sure,” Madelynn sighed, extending her hand to Miguel for him to shake. “I’d say shake on it, but you’re kinda tied up right now,” she smirked. “Sucks to suck, I suppose.”

As she walked out of the room, Jess went over to untie Miguel from the webbing. “If this goes wrong, you’re the one to blame, Jessica,” he seethed, clenching his fists.  

“It’ll be fine,” she sighed. “Not everything is the end of the world.”

“Well if this doesn’t work, it could be.”

Chapter 4

Comment to be added to the taglist <3

@pink-or-red-roses @mitskistannn @keepingitlokiii @miatjie @cupidastas @strxngegirl @lemoncliffbreezzy @cicithemess2000 @acceptedbyace @sunshiines-stuff @obamnas-soda @keenzinemugstudent @tojisrightnut @forwardvoid @astridyoo15 @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @erensbbg @tsukishimawhore @discoseal @peicksgf @blep24 @1-800-no-users-left @kittekat420 @timotheesrealgf @boo8008 @ang3lf4c3 @artfulthoughtswp @redhoodedtoad @greyscreensposts

[writing-for-marvel]

For the Stardust Reblog Challenge: Summer Edition hosted by @liraketo

These are all the fics I've read in September. Please go show all these amazing writers some much deserved love! Also please remember to read the warnings for each individual fic

🔥 - smut | 💗 - fluff I 💧- angst | 😈 - dark

Dividers by @saradika

Bucky Barnes

💧 Time After Time (series) by @intrepidacious

🔥😈 Devour (series) by @buckets-and-trees

💧💗🔥 Secret Door (series) by @buckyownsmylife

😈🔥 A Stranger Arrives by @witchywithwhiskey

💗 Rained Out by @mindingmyownbusiness

💧💗 Blood Sweat and Tears by @treatbuckywkisses

🔥 Dirty Little Secret by @vellicore

💗 Don’t Tell Bucky by @lives-in-midgard

💗 Hypothetically Speaking by @littleseasiren

🔥 Distracted by @sunshinebuckybarnes

💗 Screen Lesson by @vilentia

💗 Post apocalyptic Bucky by @fluffyprettykitty

💧💗🔥 Replace Me by @fandoms-writings

💗🔥 Hold Me Down by @flordeamatista

🔥 Impure Thoughts Part One | Part Two by @samodivaa

💗 Imagine calling Bucky while he’s at work by @imamotherfuckingstar-lord

Steve Rogers

💗 Tall and Two Sugars by @sarahghetti

💗 The Moment He Knew by @/sunshinebuckybarnes

💧 imagine Steve’s anger when you go off book during a mission by @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

💧💗 He Comes Back by @imtryingbuck

💧💗 Handsome Stranger by @/lives-in-midgard

🔥 Can’t Wait That Long by @worksby-d

Sam Wilson

🔥 Touch Me by @galatially

💗 Contentment by @/fluffyprettykitty

💧💗 Don’t Tell My Boyfriend, It’s Not What He’s Made For by @wwilsonbarness

🔥💗 Dancing’s When I Think of You by @targaryenvampireslayer

💗 You and I Were Fireworks by @feelmyskinonyourskin

💧💗 Desperately Seeking Sam by @onceuponastory

Joaquin Torres

🔥 Inexperienced Joaquin by @/fluffyprettykitty

💗 Mixup by @blackbat05

Peter Parker

💧💗 Shaken (Not Stirred) by @cocoamoonmalfoy

Joel Miller

💗 Dancin’ in the Dark by @jobean12-blog

💗 Fall In Love by @/jobean12-blog

💗 Late Night Movie by @holacia3

💗 Date Night by @/holacia3

Multiple Characters

💧💗 Sleep Deprivation by @brandycranby [Steve Rogers, Andy Barber, Curtis Everett, Ari Levinson, Jake Jensen & Ransom Drysdale]

💧💗 Romance Tropes with Marvel Characters by @angelltheninth [Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson, Tony Stark, Kate Bishop, Peter Parker]

[lazyjellyfish300]

Down Bad pt 2

Peter B. Parker x AFAB Stripper!Reader

Synopsis: Peter B. just has to win you over somehow, having caught feelings after your one night stand. Word count 1.1k

Part 1

A/N: sooo I had this thought and decided to continue this from part 1. In the meantime trying sooo hard to find motivation to write DBF!Peter part 2. Sorry it's taking me forever. 💀 I'm just dragging my feet bc I know it's gonna be a long one.

CW: MINORS DNI, SMUT (PROTECTED P IN V, EDGING AND DOM BEHAVIOR MENTIONED,CUM EATING, ORAL M RECEIVING BUT NOT TOO DETAILED), SEXUAL HARASSMENT, MILD VIOLENCE(FIST FIGHT), LITTLE BIT OF STALKERISH BEHAVIOR, fantasizing, PETER B. IS KIND OF A LOSER IN THIS ONE

-----

Peter B. can't stop thinking about you. He did this to himself yes, found a beautiful dancer, spent practically his life savings for one night, but you snatched his soul in the process. He had to have more of you. 

He even made a fake profile on Instagram to stalk you.

Fuuuck you look so good in your pictures, imagining that cute pout you're making in your selfies looking up at him from on your knees instead, the videos of you dancing and grinding, shaking your ass, drive him absolutely bonkers. Sure wishing he was the lucky guy underneath you instead of the floor. 

And now he's a lovesick puppy watching you pitifully from across the club alone on a Saturday like a loser, no cash to spare and nothing of value to offer you, just endless orgasms and a lifetime of happiness and love.

If you'd just give him the chance. 

You know damn well he's here, loving every minute of the sad attention he's paying you. Making sure to bend over at every opportunity and shoot him a glance from the stage during your routine, making that face like you're cumming with your pretty lips wide open and then biting your lip while looking at him directly in the eyes from the pole. 

Fffuck baby...don't look at me like that...

You liked toying with him like this, loved dominating him and hearing his little whimpers as you sucked his cock, edging him all night long, only for him to be practically crying when you did finally let him cum.

It was the most earth shattering orgasm he's ever had in his life, and you even swallowed it. 

Jesus, nobody has ever done that before, his exes would turn him down from a bj completely or spit in the sink, but watching you coo softly up at him and slowly slurp up his cum from your lips with a pretty little smile and a wink. 

Oh God that changed something in him. 

He knew you'd never look his way, pretty young thing like you would probably end up with one of those hunky college guys, much like the ones that are badgering you right now, yelling at you to take off your skimpy dancer's outfit. 

"Let's see some more baby, come on don't be shy." 

"Sorry boys...club rules says I can't." You try to let them down easy with a little pout of your lips. 

Peter puts down his beer, sitting up slowly when he realizes these guys just don't know when to quit. It's four against one, but he'll be damned if he sits here and lets these assholes harass his beautiful little dancer and make you cry. 

Your eyes are frantic as you try and escape the scene, gasping when you see Peter come up, grab the tall one that's got his dirty hands on you by the shoulder, punching him square in the jaw. 

It's not long before all of them are beating his ass, he grunts and eats blow after blow as they kick and punch him, wheezing on the ground. You scream for help and run towards security. 

Peter lets out a loud groan with relief when security arrives and swiftly kicks out his attackers, sighing dreamily and looking at you with a little smile between his purple bruised eyes and busted lip. You gently blot a tissue against a bleeding scratch above his eyebrows, patching him up. 

--

It's the second best feeling of his night, compared to right now as he watches you ride his cock.

Getting beat up by four guys was totally worth it to have his angel back in his bed again. And honestly, you're completely fine getting fucked by this handsome divorced DILF.

He groans loudly, your heavenly pussy gripping him like a vice, and fuck you know just how to move your hips, hitting all those sweet spots inside you that feel equally as good to him. 

"Jesus, baby....riding me like you missed me...." 

He jokes but lets out another groan when he feels his cock stroke another nice spot against your soft walls. 

"F-feels amazing...."

You smirk, watching him get all fucked out below you, wielding the power you have over him with just a move of your hips. 

"Had to reward my knight in shining armor for being so brave..." You croon at him in a honeyed voice. 

"Heh, ahah....k-knight in shining armor. I like that....Aah!" He closed his eyes, whimpering as he gets closer and closer to coming. 

"Shit....aah... baby, you...fffuck...."

He cums inside the condom, chest heaving and panting, letting out a huge sigh and a chuckle, shaking his head as he gazes at the ceiling in utter bliss. 

"That...was....*pant*...fantastic...thanks, baby..." 

But, you don't answer. He sits up quickly in a worry, only to find you struggling to zip up one of your thigh high boots, hopping in one place and using your hand to steady against the doorframe. 

"Where are you going....?" He asks, disappointment in his voice. 

You turn, painting on a fake smile. 

"Ahh, I gotta get going, sweetheart. Got another shift tomorrow. You know how it is." You try to let him down easy with that cute, sexy little pout of yours. 

"Please!" Peter stands up, pulling on his boxers, hastily darting over to you, hand outstretched. 

"D-don't leave..." He whispers, his fingers reaching out to touch your arm, then clenching into a fist at his side. His eyes sad and lonely, face still battered and bruised. 

You turn, raising an eyebrow to him, trying to hide your slight embarrassment at seeing him standing over you, feeling your thighs get warm at this man who was older yet seemed so weak in your presence alone like nobody else could do it to him. 

"I can make you breakfast in the morning..." 

"Peter..." 

"I-I'll give you whatever you want. W-whatever you need. I'll make you cum again, or we can just sit and talk. You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the couch. I'll get you coffee in the morning. You can use my shower, wear my T-shirts...." He pleads.

"I'd be so good to you if you just gave me a chance...just please stay one more night with me please..." 

Your mouth falls open a little as he gets on his knees, his chin resting on your lower stomach, those sad brown eyes too cute to say no to. His hands resting so lightly on the back of your thighs. 

You sigh, "Just one more night..." 

He beams and pulls you into a hug, getting you a fresh t shirt of his and a clean pair of his boxers to wear, eventually falling asleep on his chest while the TV plays a rerun of some 90's sitcom he's seen a million times while softly stroking your cheek, unaware that your so called compromise of just one more night is going to quickly crumble here shortly. 

He can't believe how lucky he is that he won an angel like you, already knowing just what he's gonna cook you tomorrow for breakfast and run to the store to buy you some flowers when you wake up, before he falls asleep holding you.

----

@spider-mon-de-parker @1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer

[f10werfae]

Written on Polaroids

Pairing: Husband! Chris Evans x Plus size! Latina! Reader

Disclaimer: This story is fiction and should not be taken literally, the behaviour is simply imaginative and the content may be inappropriate

Word count: 1,380

Summary: Request with a filthy smut 😍 (no for real i need to now go say the rosary and pray)

Warnings: Unprotected sex, spit play, dirty talk, breeding kink, n idk what else 🤞

—————-

Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

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(Chris' P.O.V)

I greeted the likes of Downey and Mackie as I got onto set, the loud shouts of production filling my ears

Heading into my trailer, pictures of me and my lovely wife were littered everywhere, pictures from our wedding day or when she brought me home to (Insert country)

I was blessed with such an amazing woman, don’t even get me started on her body.

Sitting by my desk, I took off my backpack, reaching in for my script notebook

“Ah shit” Instead of my usual green book, I was instead holding a fluffy pink book in my hands, how the hell did I make that mistake.

“Musta taken Y/n's by mistake” Throwing it onto the desk, something fell by my feet, my eyes instantly widening when I picked it up.

“That minx” Twirling the polaroid in my hand, a picture of us immediately after sex stared back at me, both our bodies covered but our faces still in that post-sex haze.

The back of the photo was dated “14/2/22 Valentines day with Chris <3”

Let’s just say my curiosity got the better of me and I wanted to have a snoop through her book, she wouldn’t mind right?

Ignoring the warnings on the front page, partly because they were in Spanish that was wayyy still too advanced for me. The first few pages were just her detailing what went on during the day, chuckles leaving me every time she complained about how i’d leave a dirty plate out.

Then came the pages where the dates showed I was away filming, these pages broke my heart. Details of her day without me, consisted of caring for Dodger, going to work and as she said “moping around”

“Woahohoho” Turning to the next few pages, my eyes jumped to random words such as ‘dick’ on the page sticking out. The dates saying the times I had come home after weeks away, multiple pictures of us post sex all over the double page spread.

“So this is what she does with the pictures she takes” I said out to myself, remembering the times she’d jump out of bed and ask to take a photo of us, more often than not, ending up with me asking for a separate copy to bring with me in my wallet.

Starting to read the first paragraph

“Within seconds of him getting through the front door, his eyes instantly bore into mine, a primal growl leaving him as he picked me up and dragged me upstairs to our bedroom.

His paws clawing away at my clothes, his face smothered into the crook of my neck placing kisses everywhere, leaving me breathless.

With both of us now naked, he placed a wet open mouthed kiss on my lips, all teeth and spit.

Dragging himself down my body to face my wet centre, he dragged a finger down my folds, instantly making me shudder.

He made a comment about wanting to be smothered between my thighs, always wanting to be between my legs, because that’s where he belonged…”

Deciding not to read further, I felt my cock start to ache in my pants, the thought of her filling my mind.

Stuffing her book back into my backpack, I rushed out of my trailer, shouting excuses of major migraines before bolting for my car.

All through the ride home all I could think about were her fleshy tits and kissing them as I pummelled my cock into her pussy.

Parking into the driveway, I rushed inside the house throwing the bag to the side, not announcing my arrival yet.

The sound of her playlist filled the house along with the smell of her famous Empanadas. Smiling to myself at the thought of it all, I sauntered into the kitchen, any pure thoughts I had flying out the window.

There she was, the love of my life, standing in nothing but an oversized shirt, swaying her hips to the music, is she seriously trying to kill me?

Turning around shocked her eyes widened before she greeted me, “Hola Papi? I thought you wouldn’t be home until late”

Dropping her makeshift microphone, her voice like music to my ears.

She walked over, her hands going around my waist as she looked up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers, my home.

“You are in trouble” I whispered, crooking my neck down to meet her lips in a passionate kiss, my hands holding onto her love handles.

“Eh? what’d I do my love?”

“This” I said grabbing her book out of my bag, in seconds she had snatched the book back and clutched it to her chest.

“It’s too late baby, I’ve already seen it” I pushed further, setting the book down away from the both of us, intertwining our hands as I lead her up the stairs.

“Now get on the bed, naked”

(Y/n's P.O.V)

Following his orders, I felt myself getting wetter as time went on, watching as he undid his belt and it all fell to the floor.

Reaching over to stroke him, he caught my hand, “Tonight, i’m taking care of you”

Laying back down he crawled over me, beckoning for me to open my mouth before spitting into it, then bringing me in for a sloppy kiss.

“You are so gorgeous” He beamed looking down at me, his hand caressing my cheeks before his attention went to my chest.

“God should I just knock you up? Make 'em even fuller? Make you a momma?” He whispered, groping one of my breasts in his hands.

A whimper leaving my mouth both from his words and touch.

“Please” I breathed out

“I haven’t even started yet and you’re already begging baby” He laughed, crawling further down, leaving kisses on my tits which were now glimmering in his saliva.

“I love this pussy of yours, fits me so well” He whispered out, placing a kiss right onto my clit making my legs shiver.

“Don’t even get me started on this thighs of yours, fuck I could just love on them forever” Hickies now littering my thighs as he teased closer and closer to my now aching pussy.

“F-fuck Chris” I moaned out, his tongue licking a stripe up my pussy, not letting down and just continuing to ravish it.

Wet filthy sounds filled the room along with our groans, and the occasional spank to my ass.

“Baby, i’m gonna cum” Holding onto his head, I started to grind against his face, groaning when he pulled away.

“You’re only cumming on my cock sweetheart, we both know that”

“Well fucking put it in then, coño”

“Patience or you get nothing” Running the tip up and down my slit, my hips bucked, a deep chuckle radiating through him.

“F-fuck sweets, I can feel your walls tightening around me, fits like a glove” He groaned out as he sank into me, his hands caressing my sides lovingly as he bent down to hover over me again.

Kisses placed all over my neck as he started to drive his cock into me, tears starting to brim as he shushed me gently, his forehead against mine while he placed kisses on my lips every now and again.

“J-just relax baby” He whispered out, one of his hands toying with my nipple before reaching down to circle my bundle of nerves, causing my legs to close in around his waist.

“Gonna fuck you so hard bub, make your pussy all puffy and swollen yeah?” He moaned out, bitting down on my shoulder as his thrusts became more frantic.

“Yeah baby, knock me up, wan’ have your baby Chrissy” Pulling his face up to meet mine, I swallowed his moans as our lips and tongues met in desperation for each otherwise touch.

“I’m cumming hun” I moaned out louder, his thumb now rapidly playing with my clit sending me into overdrive, “go on sweet girl, let it all out for me”

That was all that was needed to send me over the edge, his cum filling me up as we just lay there embracing each other, sensual kisses being placed everywhere.

“Hold on where are you going” I asked watching him get up and slowly moan as he pulled out, heading towards my bedside drawer.

“Polaroid”

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yeah idk I tried my best 🫡 Hope yall like it

[backtothefanfiction]

In Your Boss’s Office | Peter Parker Imagine

Summary: When your boyfriend comes to take you home after a late night at the office, he sees an opportunity to send your boss mad.

Warnings: smut, P in V, semi public sex, office sex, cum swallowing, oral (female receiving), dirty talk

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: Okay so I have been trying to get this one finished for a while. This was supposed to be day 5 of Kinktober but we all know that went off the rails. I was gonna turn it into kink til Christmas but that isn’t gonna work out either. So this is me saying that the kink list is getting thrown out the window completely, but I will still write some of the stories as prompts and short imagines as there were a couple I was looking forward to but no idea when they’ll go up. Anyway, this was one of the ideas I was really looking forward to writing so I hope you enjoy!

You had been the only one in the office for at least an hour and a half, despite your boss leaving nearly 3 hours prior. It was dark outside, you were tired, you were missing your man but you knew that if you didn’t get this list for Jameson completed now, you’d all be really behind tomorrow.

There was a sudden ding as the elevator stopped on your floor. Given the time you fully expected it to be the janitor, coming by to give things a clean and empty the waste paper baskets, but you were surprised at the sight of your boyfriend walking towards your desk.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?” he asked, “I think the real question is what are you still doing here?”

You had met Peter around 6 months ago now, when you had first taken on the job as J. Jonah Jameson’s assistant after the last one quit on him. He had expected you to also follow suit, he wasn’t exactly known for being the nicest boss after all; but you gave as good as you got and the head of the Daily Bugle admired that. Peter was a freelance photographer, stopping by every now and again with a new batch of photos of Spider-man that always made your boss both froth at the mouth and get literal dollar signs in his eyes.

“What time is it?” you asked, but you already knew.

“It’s time to log off.” he softly chastised and encouraged you.

“Uhh, Pete, I really need to get this done.”

“Fine. You have until I finish putting these photos on his lordship’s desk.” He said, pulling out a manilla envelope full of new pictures of Spiderman.

“Peter, you can’t go in there.” you tried to interject as he began to reach for the door handle to the office.

“Just watch me.” He said, turning the knob, pushing the door open and going in.

“Peter.” you chastise as you get up to follow him and make sure he wasn’t going to touch anything he shouldn’t.

When you got in the room he was already sat behind the desk, lounging back in the large leather swivel chair, swaying side to side. “You know, I see why he likes this office so much now.” he says as his eyes glance over pieces of paper on the desk.

“Come on.” you try to encourage him, “We shouldn’t be in here.”

“Make me.” he challenges with a smirk on his face. You really don’t want to find out what that smirk means, you just want to finish your list of tasks and go home but he does look good sitting behind the desk. His eyes are watching your legs closely as you hesitate in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other in tiny motions. He leans forward placing both of his hands on the desk. “Close the door.” He instructs and you do. “Now come over here.” Your brain knows it’s a bad idea but you do.

He moves the chair back slightly as his hand reaches out to guide you round the back of the desk with him. When you are close enough he turns you and backs you into the desk. You hesitate at first but with further encouragement by his hands and the wicked look in his eye, you sit yourself on top of the desk. He hums slightly as his hands rest on your knees, pulling them open, then using his grip on them, pulls the wheelie chair closer to the desk, leaving you nowhere else to go.

“Peter, what are you doing?” You ask with a shaky breath as he starts to run his hands up your thighs and under your skirt.

“You work too hard for little reward.” He says as his fingertips reach to hook beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Peter!” You interject, trying to push him away but he holds you still.

“Come on, don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.” He teases. “He’ll never know.”

“Yes he will.” You try to hold strong, but his fingers are drawing lazy circles on your thighs that are relaxing you and wearing you down.

“But isn’t that more fun. He won’t know it was us, he’ll just come in tomorrow and he’ll know something is off but he won’t be able to put his finger on it.”

“Pete… Pete.” You try to say but your resolve is fading with his touch and when he tries again to pull your underwear down, you don’t stop him.

“Just relax okay. I’ve got you.” He said as he pulled you closer to the end of the desk. “So pretty.” He cooed as he looked up at you.

He pushed your legs up, your feet resting on the arms of the large swivel chair he sat in, as he leant forward, his tongue teasing at your clit, making you squirm. His hands held tighter to your hips, holding you in place as he began to lick through your folds.

“For someone who was putting up a lot of protest, you seem to be awfully wet for me.” He teased with raised eyebrows as his fingers moved to circle at your entrance before slipping inside, his fingers working you open.

“Uhhh, Peter.” You began to pant, as the movement of his fingers pulls tiny whimpers from between your lips.

You watch as his other hand begins to fumble with his belt, the sound of the metal clinking sending another wave of arousal through you. He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans, palming his length through his boxers.

Normally Peter would spend ages going down on you, making you cum and soaking his fingers with your slick before he even thought about fucking you, but you didn’t have time. Although it was late and no one else was in the office, the janitor could come up to this floor and walk in at any minute and Peter knew it was taking a lot for you to go through with this without pushing his luck.

“Come here baby.” He said, pulling his length out of his boxers and sliding the chair back slightly.

You happily moved to straddle his thighs. You slowly lowered yourself down on his length. You were so close and he was so deep in this position. It didn’t leave much room for movement, just subtle gyrating, your clit rubbing against the small patch of exposed skin between his jeans and shirt.

It made you so sensitive, your head nuzzling into his neck as you quietly whined and moaned.

“You naughty little thing. See I knew this was what you needed.” Peter said as he slowly thrusted his hips up inside you. It wasn’t his preferred pace but he knew you loved it. To be close to him. To have his cock rubbing against the most sensitive parts of you. To feel every little twitch you made around him. It was intimate. “You gonna come for me?” He asked. He could read your body like a book and knew from just the pitch of your moans alone you were close. “Come on baby. Cum for me.” He encouraged as he guided your hips up and down on his length harder and harder. “Cum for me baby and then I can turn you around and fuck you right over his desk. How does that sound?” You could only moan in response. His words always brought you closer to the edge. “Yeah?” He cooed. “Does that sound good for you? Come on baby. Come on… there it is.” He said as you began to shudder around him, your body collapsing against his chest. “That’s my girl.” He said, but he didn’t give you a moment of rest.

Just as promised he picked you up as he stood, before dropping your feet to the floor. He turned you around, his hand pushing firmly against your back, getting you to bend over your boss’s desk in front of you.

Your face and chest were pushed onto the desk top as Peter took your arms, folding them behind your back and holding them firmly in place with a single hand as he lined himself back up to your entrance with his other.

You let out a loud gasp as he slammed his hips into your ass as he bottomed out inside you. “Oh baby, you look so pretty like this.” He said as he began to snap his hips faster.

You almost completely forgot where you were as the feeling of his cock spearing you open sent shockwaves of pleasure to your core. Your gasps and moans grew louder and louder as you felt yet another climax quickly building inside you. “Fuck, FUCK! Oh my god! Peter.”

“Mmm baby, I love it when you say my name like that.” You could feel his thrusts growing sloppier. You knew he was close, only holding himself together so he could make you cum one last time.

He shifted you both back slightly between thrusts so he could reach his hand around between your legs and started rubbing quick circles around your clit, bringing you to your climax faster. He watched as you screwed up your eyes, your mouth hanging open in a silent oh for just a moment before your orgasm hit and you began to shudder around him once more, your voice finally ringing out into the air of the office.

“That’s it baby.” He said as he removed his hand from between your legs.

You felt him pump one, two, three more times before the removed himself from you, pulling you up off the desk with one arm and encouraging you to turn around and get on your knees in front of him, his other hand pumping his length.

You knelt before him, opening your mouth wide, sticking your tongue out waiting for him to cum. You closed your eyes in anticipation just in case as you listened to him grunt. Then you felt the tip of his cock on the flat of your tongue and his cum burst into your mouth. You shaped your tongue around his length trying to contain as much of it in your mouth as you could.

As you felt him still you opened your eyes to look up at him, giving his length and slit a lick for good measure and he twitched away from you at the sensitivity, You didn’t look away from his eyes as you swallowed his salty cum with a closed lipped smile.

“Fuck, your gorgeous.” He said as he took your face in his hands and bent over to kiss your lips. “Now come on. Pick your panties up off the floor, it’s time to go home.”

You didn’t argue with him. You both put yourselves back together before you left the office. You quickly closed down your computer and you left hand in hand.

When you went back to work the next day your boss’s face was a picture. You watched him closely when he came in. Stepping into his office, you hot on his heels with his morning coffee and a notepad ready to take down his orders for the morning, you saw him pause. His brow furrowed as he looked around the room.

“Everything okay sir?” You dutifully asked.

“Huh?! Yeah!” He suddenly barked not wanting to seem vulnerable. “Yeah.” He looked down at the papers on his desk confused again until he saw the Manila envelope. “When did these get here?” He asked as he sat himself down in his chair and began opening up the photos and scanning through them.

“Uh I think Mr Parker dropped them off last night.” You feigned innocence.

“Really?” Your boss pondered. He suddenly looked up at you as if finally remembering who you were and where he was. “Right. I want Anderson up here stat. I need him in here brainstorming headlines with me to get these out on the front page first thing!” He shouted at you, his hand slamming the photos on the desk as he leaned back and kicked his feet up.

“Yes, sir.”

“And make sure you get finance to send Parker over his money.” He commanded as he picked the photos back up and started looking through them again.

“Is that everything sir?”

“What!? Yes! Of course! Now get out of here!” He barked and you quickly hurried from the room.

As you sat back at your desk you smiled to yourself. Peter had been right, although he knew something was up, your boss didn’t have a clue what had really taken place in his office the night before.