#peter parker smut drabble

[sugugori]

────୨ৎ────

I love very casual dominance. It’s always the smallest things, too. It’s one thing to be intentionally dominate in bed, but when they’re doing it out of pure instinct it’s almost sexier. They don’t even realize how attractive it is. Like today, for whatever reason you’re nervous and it’s obvious if not by the way your leg is shaking under the coffee table. And as always, he’s found his spot besides you- maybe his hair is messy because it’s early and you’ve slept in. He nurses a hot black coffee with one hand, and he may tell you twice to stop bouncing your leg but you won’t hear it a third time. He won’t even look away from whatever’s got his attention before you feel the pressure of his hand on your knee. Pressing down until your knee can no longer bounce back up, his grip almost bruising. But his thumb moves to rubs gentle circles on the area, a silent apology.

Other times, yeah, it does show up in bed. Like when he’s hitting that spot so good, too good, that you stop breathing for a few seconds. He’s literally taken your breath away, folded you in half and he’s nasty with it. You don’t even realize it’s happening but he’s so in tune with your body that he picks up on every little thing. He won’t stop his movements either, still feeding you deep strokes, hand behind your head to soften the blow of the headboard. And when he notices, he’ll place his hand on your cheek so gently - a stark contrast to how he’s fucking you- and say, “Breathe, baby.”

────୨ৎ────

[hanasnx]

“ BETTER FIND A MOP, IT’S GETTIN’ STICKY IN THIS BITCH ” — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: marvel rivals chad peter parker w yuri lowenthal’s legendary voice. a recipe for success. also this wouldn't be possible without this anon. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ dirty talk ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ finger sucking ノ biting ノ long cock peter agenda ノ suit + mask sex but mask comes off halfway thru so you can see his pretty face <3

“Yeah? Mmph—you like that—hm—baby?” PETER PARKER speaks between his sheathes, evidently getting lost in the feeling of you wrapped around him. So much so that dirty talk for this silver tongue is interrupted by his own unfocus. It blurs in and out from the overload of sensation between his legs. You can’t respond, brows furrowing as he wetly slithers in and out of you, the head of him brushing that spongy spot inside you every time he bottoms out.

You try your best, murmuring a weak yet eager, “Mhm, mhm,” Nodding your head even while his fingers are hooked on your lower jaw over your chin.

“Couldn’t wait, huh?” Peter asks rhetorically, a slight snicker sprinkled in as he watches you with as much awe as a mask can have. “Was like I was ambushed.” he muses, reminiscing over his entrance met with such welcoming open legs. His cock bucks in at the memory, and you cry out through your occupied mouth. The knuckles between your teeth get a squeeze, a nip, and he releases a burst of air. “Trying to bite me, honey?” The tone conveys a sense of disbelief but it’s pleasantly surprised, and his pace quickens. Choked moans shoot out of you as he fucks into you, his body weight pinning you down while your suspended legs bob from the movement. Your lips enclose apologetically over his gloved fingers, the wet felt fabric is foreign against your tongue when you circle around them. In a bout of curiosity, your tip traces the embossed texture of the web design around his knuckle, maintaining eye contact with his mask while you do it.

Your cheeks hollow out, sucking on his two fingers and he groans from low in his throat. It’s the kind of purr that sends a shudder down your spine, eyes rolling back as he slots in your lulling body. The sheer length of him causes an ache inside your core that arches your back, clutching onto the sheets for purchase as you brace the sharp pain for the brain-melting feeling of pulling out only to fuck back in. His other hand comes to hook under the hem of his mask, peeling it off of him, and his brown hair explodes out in an endearing mess. You can finally see that crooked grin.

He pivots your head for you by your mouth, resting his wrist on the mattress to hover over you properly. Faithfully, you keep those fingers in, and he rewards you by shoving them in deeper, the tips of them making you lurch with a gag. Once again, he reacts audibly in euphoric relief like he was waiting for you to do that. “Baby.” he says in that voice, and it’s like a prize. You erupt in full-body tingles, curling your toes as he openly mouths at your neck. The pad of his tongue flattens against your pulse point, and ends it in a hard bite, scraping his teeth against your skin. You keen, that coil in your belly going taut.

Drool seeps out of the corner of your mouth while you desperately suck his spit-soaked glove, pitiful whimperings spilling out of you while he fucks you into the mattress.

[alwaysmoncheri]

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

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

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

<3

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

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

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

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

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

“But–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh whatev—hmph!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

<3

masterlist . tasm!peter parker masterlist . taglist

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

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

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

[alexispunkkk]

stress remedy

୨ৎ ୨ৎ ୨ৎ

- pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

- summary: after some stressful times with school, peter surprises his pretty girlfriend with some flowers

- warnings: basically nothing, just pure fluffy! some kissing + mentions of stress

- word count: 1.7k

- author’s note: hiii! my first tumblr fanfic ever. requests are open, i’ll be doing mostly peter parker and andrew garfield.

—————————————୨ৎ

Your boyfriend has a busy life, and you truly have no clue how he even manages. Balancing you, schoolwork, his internship at Oscorp, and being a fucking superhero?

Obviously, that’s far too much for many people. But Peter Parker isn’t just anyone — he’s your sweet boy, the one that does it all. Even with all of his duties, the poor guy still is the most perfect boyfriend in the world.

Between the stress of school and work and whatnot, each day is beginning to feel longer and longer. Days were dragging on into colder winter nights, rather than the fun nights in the summer where you and Peter had as much time as you could ever possibly want.

You almost had no time. Coming home from school or work, you’d go right down for a nap, wake up for dinner and homework, then go straight to bed. The only thing keeping you awake for the few dull hours was your wonderful boyfriend.

Tonight was the same: half asleep in bed, your cat cuddled up to your side by force and threatening to escape the cuddles. A few sheets of homework on the desk, obviously undone, the TV on instead.

Peter knows you’ve been having a tough time at school, he’s the most adorably observant person you’ve ever met. And even with all of his own seemingly never-ending issues, he managed to put you above them all.

Your cat finally wriggled out of your arms and leaped out of the bed, scrambling under it at the sound of a knock on the window: Peter’s signature knock, to be exact. Before you can react, the tiny double-tap knock is accompanied by a gorgeous — maybe just slightly crumpled — bouquet of flowers.

They’re strung up by an all too familiar web, dangling down off of the upstairs neighbors’ Juliet balcony.

You felt like such a princess whenever Peter gave you such a dramatic arrival, dangling flowers and snacks or swinging in to surprise you. Only to be more princess-like, you scampered over in your dainty pajama set to the window, opening it and resting your arms delicately on the chilled windowsill.

Your chin soon joined, settling down on top of your forearms adorably, the stupidest grin plastering across your face when Peter finally swings down and takes the flowers off the web.

“Hi, spidey.” You giggled and stood up, opening it further to pull him inside with no effort to be careful.

“Hi, sweet girl.” He beamed back and stumbled into the bedroom with a chuckle, that all too familiar boyish grin crossing his own pretty face.

In seconds, the two of you became a tangled mess of limbs. The flowers were quickly discarded onto the desk, a quick web shooting from his wrist to shut the window and stop the chilly breeze that was slowly infiltrating the room.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you right up into your favorite spot. Your body was suspended up into the air, rested so perfectly flush against his own.

With the quiet giggles and kisses exchanged, your sour and tired mood was forgotten faster than anything.

The familiar feeling of his cold hands traveling under your shirt and across your back was intoxicating as usual, making you want to melt right into him and stay there forever, to forget about all of your worries and just be with him.

Your mind was just Peter. Peter, Peter, Peter.

“Got you a gift. Thought you might need a little pick-me-up with that midterm you’ve got coming up.” He backed up to carefully set you on the edge of the soft bed. The feeling of your head tucked so deep into the crook of his neck and his scent going straight to your heart was quickly missed, but he’ll be back soon enough.

Peter grabbed the flowers off the desk and jumped right onto the bed, earning a playful giggle from you.

“Yeah? When’d you have time to pick those up?” You scramble the second he’s laid down, crawling up the bed to accompany him.

His hands glided up your waist like silk, squeezing your sides under the pretty little lace tank top you’d chosen for pajamas tonight. It was an instinctive behavior for Peter, and you were settled in his lap in no time. No matter how often he touched you like this, it’s always as equally electrifying.

“May or may not have stolen them on the way home from Oscorp tonight.”

Once you were cuddled up in his lap, his hands moved toward your head without thought to card through the locks of your hair, pulling you closer with a quiet, domestic hum.

His words earned a snort from you, exhaling heavily while you settled on top of his body, head instinctively finding its favorite spot in his neck.

“Wow, how special am I? My boyfriend steals me flowers.” You joke, pressing the softest kiss to that sweet spot behind his ear.

In return, his hands moved up your shirt, the tip of his thumbs just barely ghosting the bottom cup of your breasts.

“Shut up, I just wanted an excuse to see you. You’ve been so holed up recently at home.”

Your eyes roll and your arms tighten around his neck, scoffing and feigning annoyance.

“I have not been holed up, thank you very much. Just … studying?” You laugh and shift in his lap, reaching across his now warm body to grab hold of said stolen flowers.

They were pretty, just maybe slightly crumpled up. But that’s the Peter Parker charm: everything had to be a bit messy when it was coming from him.

“Yeah, studying. How’s that going?” He snickers back, running one strong hand up through the top of your hair to expose your face that he was so enamored with.

The feeling of a gentle kiss to your forehead melted your heart like usual, making you both soften up and quit with the teasing.

“Not good,” you sighed, slumping back down and going all limp on top of him, your nose faintly brushing his jawline. “I haven’t done any of my homework. I’m so burnt out.”

Peter’s own face softened at that, looking down at you and brushing more of that hair out of your face to get a proper look. To his suspicion, your faint eyebags looked … well, a little less faint.

“You’ve gotta get some rest, then, baby.” He sighed and brushed his own nose into your hair, pulling your head under his chin to rest there while one hand stroked down the base of your neck.

You opened your mouth to protest, but you knew fighting over things like this with Peter never gave you a win. As much as you love him, he’s so damn insistent — he won’t let you do anything if it’s not all beneficial for your mental health or whatever he’s going on about.

“Fine. I’m not gonna fight you tonight.”

Your hands quickly work down his body, tugging at his belt in an attempt to get it off. He helps you work it off quickly, climbing out of bed for a moment to discard his jeans and coat to get comfier.

You only whined a little bit when he got up. To be fair, both of you were awfully clingy, not just you.

“Good, you’re not touching that laptop again. Not after that essay you spent all of our time on the other day.” Peter says, and the second the clothing hits the floor you pull him back down with a quiet giggle.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

He’s tugged nice and close quickly, so perfect against your body. The comfort of your bed has warmed his body up and he’s just in heaven with you wrapped up in his arms.

“No, don’t wanna go to bed.” Your face turns into a pout at his comment, stuffing right into his neck like always. “Let’s just talk. Get my mind off of school. Please?”

As convincing as you attempted to be, the yawn threatening to pull at your lips and the clingy nature you only fell into when you’re really tired gave you away.

“Baby, c’mon. Look at you. All pretty, but exhausted.” He cooed and chuckled, stroking the back of your hair to pull your head back under his chin the way he likes.

Quiet, protesting giggles escape your mouth, but when he keeps trying to pull you closer you’re on the verge of giving in.

At the sound of your constant stubborn whines at the simple thought of going to bed, Peter knows he’ll have to step it up.

“Come on. I’m not gonna be able to sleep myself if I know you’re stressed out. Let’s go to sleep, sweetheart.”

The gentle tone of his voice and slight puppy eyes urged you further and you truly can’t help it in that moment. A sigh escaped your mouth and you reluctantly moved closer, pulling the covers over the two of you.

“Fuck off. Fine.” You yawned once you finally allowed yourself to, letting your body go limp against him.

“There you go. Just close those pretty eyes, yeah? They look heavy.” He whispers, making sure the comforters are over you in every spot, not letting a sliver of skin exposed to the cold air when you could be snuggled with him.

Your protesting let up every time Peter whispered in your ear, the sweet words setting your mind right into a sleepy state. Little “love you’s” and “I’m right here’s” were so quick to ease your mind every time, even at your most stressed state.

“So easy to bribe.” He chuckles against your head once you’re asleep, pressing a last kiss to the top before shutting his own eyes. “G���night, baby. Love you. Always.”

[calebsanchor]

Him holding your pudgy stomach like a handle while fucking you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! can i request tasm!peter ’teaching’ reader how to touch herself maybe? i love how u write him <3

Thanks for requesting! And I got your other ask about them being in an established relationship, so I incorporated that too :)

cw: smut mdni

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Peter.” Despite your best efforts, your voice is teetering on the brink of a whine. “You’re being mean.” 

“I am not,” he laughs. You think that definitely seems a little mean, him laughing while you’re wet and squirming in front of him. “We’re doing this for you, remember?” 

“You’re not doing much of anything for me,” you mutter. It makes an appalled bark of laughter come out of your boyfriend, his fingertips digging into your thigh as he gives it a teasing squeeze. 

Peter’s lying on the bed in front of you. He looks like a pre-teen at a sleepover, chin propped on his hand, legs kicking behind him, the only difference your glistening cunt a foot from his face. 

“The point is for you to learn to do it yourself,” he reminds you jovially. “What if I’m not always here to get you off, sweetheart? What if I die a tragic death?”

You frown, fingers stilling on your clit. “Don’t say that, please.” 

“Sorry.” He kisses below your kneecap. “What I’m trying to say is, I feel like I should make sure you’re taken care of when I’m not around. Or that you can take care of yourself, so to speak.” 

That gets a short laugh out of you. Peter smiles like he’s won the lottery. 

“Make sure it’s good and wet, baby. You’re not getting a lot of friction there.” 

“It’s not working,” you complain. You bring more slick upwards to your clit, but it hardly helps. Your own fingers seem feeble when you can remember the feel of Peter’s so vividly. “I don’t have to think so hard when you’re doing it for me.” 

Peter gives you a knowing look, his lips tipped up on one side. “You don’t have to think now, either. You’ve gotta relax.” 

“I’m trying,” you huff. You worry your efforts are building up more frustration in you than anything else. 

He sits in front of you for a while longer while you plead with him with your eyes and heavy, despondent sighs. His pupils are dilated as he watches you try to work yourself, your sex so close he could put his lips to it with just the slightest movement forward. You swear your clit is going to go numb when Peter finally lets loose a sigh of his own. 

“So stubborn,” he murmurs, almost to himself. He starts to sit up. “Okay. You want help?” 

“Yes, please.” It’s an effort to keep your smile at bay. Peter’s expression makes you suspect he can tell, one part exasperation and two parts smugness. 

“Lay back for me.” 

You do so eagerly, but when your hand moves away from your cunt Peter catches your wrist. 

“Hey, what’re you doing?” he asks. You stare back at him bemusedly, and he looks like he could laugh again. He puts your hand back where it was. “We’re not done with this, sweetheart.” 

You frown. “I thought you were gonna help?” 

“I am gonna help.” He smiles, bestowing a kiss on your lips. “We’ll get you there, don’t worry.” 

He positions himself above you, kisses a slow, meandering path down your neck. His lean, muscular arm snakes between your bodies, his hand guiding yours between your legs. Thumb moving your own over your clit. 

“Slower, baby, like that.” Peter’s voice is a satisfied hum. “You weren’t really trying before, were you?” 

“I was,” you argue, but your voice is already growing weak from the suggestion of his touch and the realer, more tangible thing of his mouth on your throat. 

“You can do better than that, I know you can. You’re just not patient with yourself. You’re too in your own head.” 

His thumb pushes harder into yours, increasing the pressure on your clit. You choke out a moan. 

“See? That’s tons better already. You can do it, sweet girl. You’ve just gotta be nice about it.” 

“You’re nice to me.” 

“Yeah? Thanks.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “I try to be. I want you to be that nice when you’re touching yourself, okay? Or even nicer.” 

Peter alternates between chaste, soft kisses and delicate nips to your skin. Your own teeth are digging into your bottom lip, arousal pooling between your legs. Peter’s wearing his pajamas, plaid pants and a t-shirt, but when you try to slip your free hand underneath the hem he moves it to your own thigh. You frown. 

“Don’t touch me, touch yourself,” he says. He picks his face up to deliver a kiss to your lips, laughing when he sees your expression. “I mean, thanks, baby, I love it when you touch me, but this is about you, remember? Touch yourself wherever you wanna be touched.” 

You follow his instructions, bringing your hand up to your breast. When you squeeze, it makes your cunt throb.  

Peter’s eyes darken. “Attagirl.” 

You make a soft, stymied sound. 

“You ready for more? You can do it, sweetheart, just do what feels good. Wanna put your fingers inside?” 

You’d already been contemplating it, but the instruction helps. Your two fingers slip into you with little resistance. It’s not as much as you want, and your hips move seemingly of their own volition, searching for more. 

“Be nice,” Peter coaxes. His lips press gently to the soft underside of your jaw. “You’re okay, keep going.” 

His thumb nudges yours, and you pick your rhythm back up. The next roll of your hips finds more sensation. You let out a pent-up breath. 

You can feel Peter’s smile bloom against your throat. His hand closes over your wrist, urging you deeper until your pointer and pinkie come into contact with sticky skin. 

You get to a point where he’s doing most the work, your fingers moving on instinct inside of you while he works your thumb like a joystick over your clit until you’re sopping and no longer have the wherewithal to swallow down the needy sounds that want out of you. Peter likes those, always has, in a way that’s at once gratifying and embarrassing for you. His kisses grow heavier as his lips move close to your ear. 

“You gonna cum, sweetheart? You’re doing such a good job, so good for me, my pretty girl. Feel how nice and worked up you can get yourself? Hear how pretty you sound? I know you’re close, baby, you deserve this. Cum on your fingers for me.” 

You gasp almost wetly as you do, teary and overwrought. Peter kisses you all over your face and holds you through it. You breathe hard, and you must be off the hook, because when you find his hand with yours he coos and intertwines your fingers, squeezing lightly. 

“That’s my girl,” he says. “You did it. Didn’t I tell you?”

“I feel like I might’ve hurt my wrist,” you mutter. 

Peter laughs, the sound clear and bright. “You’ll get used to it, baby.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

you can’t put it in

kinktober, day thirty-one

a/n: happy hornyween halloween! to say goodbye to kinktober, I thought it was fitting to end in the same boat as we started in. enjoy sluts ♡ I love you all so so much ♡

warnings: stepbro!peter parker x reader, smut, stepcest, secret relationship, semipublic sex, bathroom sex, halloween party, pussyjob, dirty talk, corruption kink

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

You properly shouldn’t have had those last few drinks. Maybe if you hadn’t, then you wouldn’t have ended up in this position, on the bathroom counter at some Halloween party, with your stepbrother slotted between your wide-spread legs, length freed from his costume and teasing your weeping mess with the tip of it. 

“You can’t put it in,” your form needily shivered as he tapped his weight against your puff, “promise me that you won’t put it in.”  

Maybe if your costume hadn’t been so revealing and his hadn’t hugged his frame so perfectly, then you would have been able to stay away from one another, but something inside of you knew that even if you both wore potato sacks and didn’t indulge in a drop of anything, then you would have still ended up in this exact same predicament. 

“Come on, princess,” Peter tugged down the neckline of your skimpy costume and played with your tits, “you didn’t have a problem with me fucking your throat sore.”

“That’s different and you know it,” you pouted, legs rubbing up against his sides as he continued to tease. Realising his grip on your boob with a playful tap, his hand then drifted down to aid his movements, pinching your petals around him as he fucked your folds, the tip rhythmically nudging against your buzzing clit. 

“Just think about how good it will feel letting me stretch this little pussy all the way out.”

“Peter-”

Eyes glued to your cunt, he ignored your plea and smirked, “maybe you just need to learn a lesson about what happens when you run around being such a fucking tease all the time…”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[stowawaymuffin]

Naive Peter being brushed up against by Tony, each caress getting bolder than the other. Peter thinks that it’s all normal and Tony sees no reason to correct him.

It starts out relatively tame with a simple graze against his waist as he stands behind him at his work bench, and a hand at the back of his neck to redirect him to where Tony wants him to look.

This quickly turns into full on back hugs, and Tony resting a hand on Peter’s thigh on the couch during movie night.

Peter thinks nothing of it, convinced that this is just how the older man is, and Tony has no problem indulging in the boy’s oblivious willingness.

[snowluvvie]

Chocolate lava cake with Peter Parker!!!! Any letter (or all if ur feeling kind) I need this please please please thank you

You need to pick a letter next time but I love Peter so I picked three I wanted :)

₊˚⊹ ♡ . NSFW ALPHABET (D, S, Y) w/ PETER PARKER

₊˚⊹ ♡ . MDNI 18+. warnings — fem!reader, voyeurism, peter being a perv and a peeping tom, m. masturbation, overstimulation, crying, oral (m. and f. receiving), p in v

D is for DIRTY SECRET — pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of his

That little perv has swung by your window countless times, usually just under the guise of “checking in on you” or “making sure everything’s alright” because he is the neighborhood hero, of course—and you do live in the neighborhood, right? You were always going about your normal day-to-day when he saw you, brushing your teeth, typing on your laptop in the living room, rushing to put your shoes on because you were late to go somewhere. Those moments made him like you more and more, seeing you just be.

That is, until that one time he caught you changing. It seemed like he’d swung past the very moment your bra had fallen to the ground. He was a gentleman, averted his eyes and left… after a minute… or two. After you were fully dressed again. (Fine. Peter watched you change.) Poor guy (pervert) was rock hard the whole rest of his patrol, swinging around the city with a massive bulge in the front of his suit. Thank god he didn’t end up having to stop any crime—that would’ve been awkward (deserved.) The sight of your tits is the only thing that filled his head when he was strangling his own dick for the next… month? No, much longer. Until the next time he saw you like that.

S is for STAMINA — how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?

Super-stamina… self explanatory, no? (I’m gonna explain anyway.) Sometimes it seems like Peter can go forever, as long as you’ll let him—and sometimes he lasts too long, focuses too intensely how good you feel when he’s rutting into you, closes his eyes and just gets completely lost in it. He’ll go until you’re both dripping with sweat, the sheets soaked through, and you’re struggling to come down from your third orgasm, shaking and spasming and whining, but he just doesn’t let up. It takes you saying his name in a choked sob: “Peter,” for him to finally open his eyes and look down at you, all disheveled underneath him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes—for him to come back to reality and with a long, breathy moan, he finally cums at the sight of you. And if we’re being honest, he would’ve gone longer if you hadn’t been desperately exhausted and fucked out.

Y is for YEARNING — how high is his sex drive?

Quite literally wants you—needs you—all the time, but he can be reserved about it, especially in the beginning.

When he swings by your place after a patrol late at night, desperately wanting to let off some steam, he doesn’t want to say anything about it. You’ll have a perfectly nice night until you notice the way Peter’s jaw has been set all funny while you’ve been walking around in your cute little PJs, nipples perked up from the cold air. He doesn’t wanna “ruin a wholesome night,” but you saw the look on his face at least twenty minutes ago, and have been pushing your chest out ever since then. When he finally admits he’s tense, and you suck him off to help him relax, he insists on returning the favor. He feels bad receiving without giving back—so every time you swallow his cum, you find yourself halfway off the edge of the bed with his head buried between your legs.

The longer you’re together, the more confident he feels just snatching you up so the two of you can run away, giggling and making out, to your bedroom or some other private corner of whatever you are, so he can release tension by bouncing you on his cock. He’s so strong, you don’t find yourself having to do any of the work when you don’t want to. Peter will fuck you senseless, and then kiss you long and sweet and tell you: “Thanks :)” with that grin and glint in his eye, like you did him a favor. All you can do is nod numbly in response, still dazed.

[writtenbymoonflower]

smut requests, you say😏

well, how about fem reader with tasm!peter where he's feeling insecure about himself (we rarely get to see our boys insecure) and reader wants to make him feel good about himself and see how amazing he is in a more... physical way

sorry, i don't send in a lot of smut requests, though I love to read them!

-🔮

aww i love this! Thanks so much hunny! fem!reader x tasm!Peter Parker

cw: smut and suggestive material. mentions of insecurity, scars

673 words

You felt Peter tense under your fingertips as you trailed your hand up his torso. It wasn’t a pleasured shiver, but rather a pained wince, he had exhaled sharply and pulled away. You stopped kissing him, sitting back on his lap and inspecting him. 

“Did I do something?” You asked him, eyes wide and searching. Glossy at the thought of hurting him. 

“No, baby. You’re okay, just didn’t expect it. He stroked the back of your head, pulling you close to capture you in a long kiss. You let out a little gasp of surprise that he swallowed readily and braced your hands on his bare thigh, letting your fingers slip under the hem of his boxers. He tensed and shrunk again, pulling your hand up to wrap it around his arm. You stilled, pulling away again and curling your hands into yourself. 

“I did it again, you made that same sound.” 

“You didn’t do anything, I just-” He looked like he didn’t want to admit it. But it seemed like his want to reassure you and his flusteredness won out. “I just don’t like people touching me there.” He reached up to stroke your hair cajolingly again. 

“Why?” You asked, searching and sorrowful.

“I just don’t like people looking or feeling there. I got minced up pretty bad in some fights. Left some parts of me lookin’ kinda weird.” He explained, wincing. 

“It’s not weird, nothing on you is.” You looked so dejected it broke Peter’s heart. “You’re so pretty, Pete.” You muttered. 

“Baby,” He scoffed out a laugh. “It’s nothing, really. You don’t have to try and make me feel better.” 

“But I want to.” You said quickly, leaving no room for argument. “Can I see, please?” It was clear he was somewhat hesitant, but he unfurled himself enough for you to inspect his body. His lack of clothes from your planned activity made it easy to see the roughened and scarred skin covering his body in certain areas. It was varying colors and shapes, but they were all pretty in their own way. Knit skin reflected and shone, flashing and pulling. It was mesmerizing. 

“Pretty gnarly, I know.” He joked. 

“I like them,” You shuffled down his lap, leaning into his inner thigh to kiss the scars there. He inhaled sharply, shivering from the contact. You kept going, gently moving your lips over the healed skin, knowing it was probably extra-sensitive. “They’re pretty.” You looked up at him, all doe-eyed. He could feel himself stiffening, the love and contact and kissing all too much for his body as you gently trailed your fingers over the tent in his boxers, making him shudder. 

“Fuck, babe.” He groaned. “Get up here, I wanna kiss you.” He smoothed his palm over your hair and neck as you kissed up his torso, brushing your lips against the scars on his ribs, moving up his neck until you were facing him. 

“I love you, Peter. So, so much. I love every part of you.” You said earnestly. His eyes crinkled with fondness. Ne was no longer thinking about his scars or skin or whatever else. All he could focus on was how soft your touch was and how sweetly you were looking at him. It made his heart ache and his dick twitch. 

“Love you so much, sweet thing.” He said before grabbing your face and smashing your lips against his. You tried to kiss him sweetly, but he quickly roughened, hot tongue licking into your mouth greedily. A horrible sound was pulled from the back of your throat as he pulled you into his lap, your core dragging over his hard bulge. You pulled away and he whined, trying to grab at you. 

“Peter,” You pleaded. “Let me love on you, please.” He quickly caught your meaning as you slid off the bed onto your knees. He wasn’t about to deny, especially when you were looking at him like that. 

“Fuck, sweetness” He groaned as he tugged off his boxers. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

[withahappyrefrain]

oop for the drabble weekend… “When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit, is that clear?” + soft!dom tasm peter if you’re down 🩷 or any of your boys 🥺

Is this how we bring back soft dom mob AU Peter? Maybeeeeeeeeee.....yeah. It is.

"Mister.....Mister Parker-"

A low groan vibrated against your chest, his mouth still attached to your breast, your unbuttoned blouse framing his head.

"What did I say to call me, Shefele?"

Lamb. That's what you were and he was the wolf, ready to devour you whole.

He was also your boss. The ultimate forbidden fruit. He paid your bills and could lead you to financial ruin at the drop of a hat.

You did kiss him first.

"Peter," his beard brushed against your sensitive skin, sending a body shuddering shiver up your spine.

His hand slipped past your skirt's hemline, long fingers finding your clothed core, rubbing against the flimsy fabric of your panties.

"Already so wet for me," his lips trailed up your body, leaving a litter of kisses and love bites across your flesh.

Peter's lips found yours with ease, realization that all those times in meetings he was truly staring at your lips, like a train.

Your hands explored his deceivingly muscular body, able to feel through his cotton button up. Trailing down, down, down to his designer belt.

"N-need you," your confession came in the form of a barely audible whine.

"I know, but," his hands pushed yours away, his body moving down and off the couch, "Let me take care of ya first. Sit on my face."

"What?"

Peter moved his body so that his back was against the plush cushions of the sofa, head tilted back, the mess of curls and waves tickling your knees, "You heard me, Shefele."

"Mist- Peter, if I sit on your I'll cr-"

"Don't finish that sentence," he moved faster than lightning, body draping over yours once more, "Because that won't happen. I'll be fine."

His lips found your jawline, playfully nipping at it, "When I tell you to sit on my face, I want you to sit. Is that clear, Shefele?"

You nodded, panting as if you had just ran a marathon, "Y-yes sir."

The title elicited a low, nearly animalist groan, "Gonna make you feel s'good, Shefele."

[hanasnx]

“ DO YOU REMEMBER HOW IT FELT WHEN I TOUCHED YOU? ” — peter parker.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: nsfw link inspo. WARNINGS: fem reader | established relationship | oral (f receiving) | vaginal fingering | explicit sexual content.

PETER PARKER messes up a lot. He knows he does. He knows you’re constantly about to sit him down for a serious talk regarding your relationship with him. Maybe he’s not spending enough time with you, or when he does spend time with you he’s suspiciously absent-minded, or maybe he’s not dividing any of his priorities evenly—but he knows you’re sick of it. You try to be strong, he can see it in your eyes, but the sag in your shoulders and the sigh in your voice tells him everything else. However, even if he screws up constantly, he knows there’s one thing he can get right.

“Oh, Peter!” you gasp, fingers tangling in his hair in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His tongue swipes back and forth against your clit, the first stimulation the neglected thing has had in so long. It’s extra sensitive tonight, and he almost can’t believe his stroke of good luck—almost. It’s not like he’d blame you for saying no to this, letting him get you on your back and kneel at the foot of the bed to stick his head between your legs. From the sound of your feather-light voice, he can tell you need this. It takes up some brain space to scold himself for not doing this to you sooner. “Pete- Pete, keep going—please.” you plea, writhing languidly in the mess of sheets. He clears his cloudy mind.

“Right, sorry.” he speaks against you, and his soft slippery lips caress your excited bud in a way that has you arching your back. Hot breath fans you as he flattens his tongue, licking up a long stripe and leaving a wet trail in its wake. You cry out sharply when the tip of it flicks up your little clit, making it ache in asking for more. Obediently, he reintroduces his fingers to the mix, leaning to the side as he wetly makes out with your bud, and the rough pads of his two digits draw up your slit. It feels raw from sensitivity, and yet your hips chase more stimulation, mewling for a deeper penetration than what the length of his tongue can provide. He doesn’t speak again, he lets his actions do the talking, gaze flickering up at you in the low light every so often to gauge your reactions. You’ve since thrown up your arms, keeping them out of his way, laying your hands next to your head. The lighting compliments your every curve and dip, nipples perked up and pebbled, your lips molded into whatever shape they need to take to keep those pretty sounds spilling out of you.

You look like an angel. How do you even put up with him? he asks himself. Maybe whatever he’s doing now has something to do with it, you seem to like it. “Peter…” you sigh, and once he knows you’re loose enough, he pushes his two fingers in a knuckle without any friction.

“Baby, you’re so wet.” he tells you proudly, planting a sweet kiss onto your clit to which you loudly moan in reply. He keeps pushing, another knuckle, one more, two fingers seated inside you and you’re bucking your hips trying to get them in even deeper. Your legs suspended in air begin to tremble as he pulls out and goes in again, this time adding a curl at the end of his descent so his fingertips stroke at that spongy spot inside you. Incoherent babblings mixed with the sound of his name pour out of you, followed closely by the sodden symphony of your pussy getting finger-fucked. Gradually, he speeds up his pace, sucking on your clit as pistons his arm in very particular way, ensuring he hits that spot inside you every time.

A curious arm of his curls around one of your thighs, his free hand laying over your chest to cup your tit, pinching your nip between his thumb and index experimentally. You grow more pitchy, trying to move your body with his stimulations, unable to keep still. He’s not going to keep you waiting any longer than you already have, he’s fucking the cum out of you now. He adds another finger, this time he feels the stretch but you clearly don’t care about the sting—in fact you welcome it. You’re loud, howling throughout the room unapologetically while he screws your pretty pussy into raw and puffy oblivion. His tongue rolls around your clit, three fingers drilling your g-spot, that coil in your tummy impossibly taut. Don’t need to tell him you’re close, he’s able to tell just from your body movements getting more and more erratic. Your hole pulses around him, and the coil snaps. Spurting out creamy white to spatter the bed and his hand. It oozes as he slows down. You gasp, convulsing, and very gently he places another kiss on your raw clit, exiting his fingers from your constricted hole with caution. “You did so good, baby, you want another one?”

[l13]

Peter B getting baby fever 🥰

The man who pins you in a mating press so you're just completely at his mercy

You could be sobbing and He's still going. Cooing and telling you how he knows you can handle just one more load

It's spilling out onto the bed under you at this point and you can barely think as he fucks into your overstimulated pussy

Praising you and telling you how pretty you'd look as a mommy

omfg yes.

cw: nsfw mdni, breeding kink, mommy kink?

peter is panting against your mouth, babbling about how 'you're taking him so well," how he "can't wait to get you pregnant-", he's honestly not doing better himself- whimpering and moaning with drool running down the side of his mouth, eyes rolling back at the way your pussy squeezes him tightly- and he can smell the sex in the air after hours of fucking into you messily- his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Y'gonna cum for me, mommy?"

"Fuck- one more, jus' one more baby I swear-," but he's a big fat LIAR 'cause he just can't for the life of him stop thrusting his hips against you:(((, you feel so good that it brings tears to his eyes, chasing the same pleasure you give him over and over again, till you're both spent- his cum dripping out of your pussy cause it's just too much- and he's cursing quietly, fingering you to try and push it back in, his other hand holding you down as you thrash around- crying out to him that it's too much-

"Oh I know honey, gotta make sure though, right? Gotta make sure you get pregnant-" "How else will I make you a mommy, hm?"

his cock is painted white, nd he flushes pink when he notices how stained the bed sheets are- you're just gonna have to throw them out at this point.

[ikinremu]

KINKTOBER DAY 10 | VIBRATOR X PETER PARKER

Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Tags: Use of vibrator, Praise

"Baby, what's this?" Your boyfriend chuckled, bemused, raising a brow as his hand suddenly stopped rummaging through the contents of your bedside drawer.

Your gaze fell to Peter’s hand as he lifted it from the storage, fingers wrapped around an undoubtedly obvious item.

Your face grew warm at an instant as your eyes fell upon the sight of your vibrator in his hand, his eyes peering at you expectantly.

“It’s, well, it’s.. mine.” You saw no use in an explanation; it was painfully obvious what the device was.

"Mhm." He murmured, sitting himself back atop the bed beside you once more, the sleek, pink toy still surrounded by his palm.

You shrugged, silenced with nothing further to say, cheeks brewing with heat - similar to between your thighs. As you spoke, Peter’s warm, callous hand snaked slowly between your legs, parting them slightly.

“Show me where you like it.” He pressed the tip of the device against your cunt, the head of it meeting your dampening underwear. His thumb clicked the small, red button and suddenly the buzz of the toy sparked between your thighs.

“Fuck-“ You gasped, fingers seizing the sheets beneath your skin, wrapping through the material as a pleased smile spread across your boyfriend’s lips.

"Good girl, there you go." Peter breathed, his vacant hand finding your upper-thigh, pushing down against the mattress to steady your legs from their instincts.

He grinned, pressing the head of the toy against your cunt with a slight increase in force, the fabric of your underwear sodden with arousal.

Your legs quivered, trapping the toy tightly between them, vibrations pulsing through your sensitive clit as your chest heaved desperately.

Peter inhaled sharply as he took in the sight of you; squirming as you spilled out breathy moans atop his very own bed, features contorting with pleasure.

He leaned slowly forward, the heat of his breath brushing against your neck as he lowered his tone to a concentrated whisper, “Show me where it feels good on that pretty pussy, baby."

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Please note that in the process of kinktober works releasing, I’m also working through requests - if you’ve sent one in then thank you as always for your patience!!

[keisobe]

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐁 (𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 + 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚) ⋮ heavily suggestive. age difference. 18+ reader. cheating. ooc. ⎯ spiderdads love having you as their little intern.

recently receiving a spider watch after a year of your debut as spider-woman in your dimension, you made it your ultimate duty to live up to the expectations of your variant superiors. your forthcoming nature and free time was open to anyone, but you found yourself always being in the radar of peter and miguel.

it would start off with innocent requests.

“hey kid, is it fine if you could grab me some coffee?” peter would smile at your enthusiastic nod and hand you his ‘number one dad’ mug. by now you know peter’s order— steaming hot coffee with powdered creamer.

“kid, transfer these files to sector 3.” miguel wouldn’t even look at you, but you still flashed a grin and began to sprint through the bustling hallway. you also learned he liked the empanadas at the cafeteria.

and in exchange of completed requests, you’ve found yourself looped into their peculiar ways to regard your work.

“good girl.” peter’s voice was hushed and deep as he sweetly patted your head, taking a careful sip of his aromatic coffee with an attractive grin. he left you a little stunned after that, or more so a blushing mess. then you watched him go back into his usual ‘i’m a proud dad’ routine and attend to mayday back in his dimension.

“gracias cari– u-umm i mean thanks… kid.” miguel uncharacteristically fumbles his words as he finally darts his ruby eyes away from the glowing, holographic screens, looking into your eyes with actual acknowledgement of your presence. his gaze was intense, a sense of longing in them. then he abruptly dismisses you, leaving you with a sense of wonder as to what just happened as you exited his lab.

it was always a special occasion when the two of them would be together.

“kiddo, you free?” peter shouted as he waved you down in the midst of you finishing a small errand for jess.

you responded with a firm nod as you sent jess a brief message on your watch. the smile you wore slightly faltered at the sight of a weirdly unreadable miguel beside peter— eyes glittering with a shade of red that you’ve never seen before. it made you feel on edge. nonetheless, you approach the two with a determined glow on your face as you let them lead you with peter filling in the awkward silence with his little quips and sarcastic comments towards miguel.

at this point, you've been working for the spider society for three months now. the teasing remarks from the other spider-people toned down and you’re finally classified as a real agent, exclusively working alongside miguel, jessica, and peter. and even through the fantastic upbringings in your life, something has been eating at you— more correctly, two people have been making your life miserably complicated.

miguel was by far the most interesting person you’ve met. his past takes a toll on him every counting day and the integral goal he based his life around is to never repeat his one mistake. although he’s very calloused and irritable, you admired his ambition and the rare moments his cold demeanor would falter to reveal a huge dork (in no other dimension have you ever seen a grown man get bullied by his own ai). as much as miguel shared a huge part of himself to you, he seemed far more content with being completely alone and devoting his life to a vow he made that day his daughter and an entire universe was wiped from existence.

peter, sarcastic and careless in nature, recently became an attentive father. it was endearing to see, considering the various stories of his depressing upbringing would make your warm lunch turn ice cold and soggy within a minute into his sulky narration (you might’ve avoided spending your lunch breaks with him afterwards). and his rekindling love with mary-jane finally gave him a sense of comfort and relief of a normal, happy family life. peter gave you a sting of hope that things will somehow turn out okay in the end. it made you feel closer to him, until you remembered that he was just sharing some old, adult wisdom to you.

and that was fine with you. you can totally push aside your small crushes for peter and miguel. one was emotionally unavailable and one was in a stable relationship with a beautiful daughter. plus they were your bosses and twice your age. so why? why is that miguel would linger a little longer whenever you announced that you’ll be going back to your dimension? why is that peter’s brown eyes would brighten up whenever you held mayday lovingly in your arms?

it didn’t help when miguel would start to call you endearing pet names with a genuine smile on his face, or when peter would situate you on his lap as he nuzzle his nose into your neck just because ‘it felt comfortable’. this conundrum made you think that you were completely losing your damn mind, that somehow you were looking too deep into the lines. but you concluded it was just all a huge misunderstanding on your part.

yeah, that’s what it was.

“you have to be quiet, okay?”

peter mumbles in the shell of ear as he clumsily discards your tight spider suit in the corner of the room while miguel makes sure that all the doors are sealed shut and locked from prying eyes.

it was normal just a few minutes ago. peter ribbing miguel with his usual dry humor, and miguel ignoring his antics to tick him off while leading you both to what you presumed to be a private conference room to discuss the important matters of anomalies.

but when the three of you nearly approach the door, peter suddenly stops talking. cautiously looking around his surroundings, peter presses himself closer and subtly grinds his hips onto the softness of your ass while miguel’s lingering hand gropes the curve of your tits— his neutral expression completely taunting your shattering composure. this is where your actual conundrum begins.

the room continued to hiss as the electric engines faintly knocked on the metal walls. the dimmed lights that made your very inappropriate circumstances much more intimate than it should be.

the chiseled arch of miguel’s cheekbones brushed the plush skin of your spread thighs, his sharp canines eagerly leaving tender marks that were reserved for only the three of you to look at. each bite and suck left you weakly whimpering his name with growing anticipation.

it was lonely back in your dimension, your bed was cold without another body to warm it up. returning back to an empty apartment would elicit forbidden thoughts— ones that held you in a heated daze until you realize you’re dumbly standing in the middle of the room and shamelessly yearning to open another portal to be in the arms of peter and miguel.

god, this was so wrong.

“aw, do you want more kid?” peter teasingly asks as his stumble scrapes along your jawline, leaving marks of his own along the junction of your neck.

miguel gazed up at your troubled expression, an amused smirk dancing along the swell of your inner thighs.

morals, pay attention to your morals.

you nodded eagerly, a force of habit after attending to the various needs of your superiors, but miguel wouldn’t take that as an answer.

“you have to tell us cariño.” miguel grumbles in between his love bites— crimson eyes glowing under the dull light.

oh well.

“yes! please, i need more.”

peter and miguel muse at your neediness, swiftly changing their positions as they propped you comfortably on a table placed in the middle of the room. you flinched from the chilling contact, but you were immediately warmed up when both men knelt down— each hooking an arm around your quivering legs and indecently displaying you as they spread your limbs. they move like they were on the same wavelength, finally agreeing on one thing.

guilt pinged in your stomach once again when peter’s wedding band brushes against your skin and miguel’s spider watch brightly flashes with pilled voice memos urgently calling for his assistance.

obviously annoyed, miguel hastily pries off the pinging watch and puts it aside while peter eagerly tucks his wedding ring in the pocket of his discarded pink robe. weirdly, their visible desperation to have their attention focused on you filled you with pride.

finally, two pairs of eyes were trained on you, sparkling with a hypnotizing red and a drunken brown. their previous notions left no ounce of guilt, instead it made them hyper focused with lust.

“don’t worry querida,” miguel gruffly murmurs as he snags your underwear with a sharp finger. “peter and i will take good care of you.”

“but don’t tell anyone kiddo.” peter cuts in, a subtle grin on his face but through his playful tone, he was dead serious.

you compliantly nodded.

of course, you won’t tell a single soul.

KEISOBE © 2023. please do not copy, translate, or modify any of my work. all of my works are not permitted to be posted on any other sites.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

a little something based off this

had to make it fit techbro!peter tho 🤭

tw: fwb est relationship, no protection

"Fucking-god damn," Peter's breathless moans were fanning over you collarbone. "Feels- damn it, baby, you feel so good." His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping them tilted with your legs firmly wrapped around his waist to keep him from going anywhere, not that he was planning on it.

Not when it had been over a month since he's seen you, closer to 6-weeks since he's been buried between your thighs in any shape or form. He'd been constantly travelling for work, and even though you didn't believe him at first, his stuttering hips and inability to even try to keep his noises down was proving that he was right - there was no way he slept with anyone else while he was gone.

Something about that realization had your walls clenching down, core bearing down in raw desire. Peter wanted you so badly he waited, your beloved fuck boy waited for you.

"Shit-fuck, baby you- god I can't-" pure, utter desperation was dripping off of him, getting lost in the blinding pleasure only you could provide. His rhtymic thrusts were quickly turning to disorganized rutting, small whimpers leaving him.

Suddenly, without much more warning, with Peter's entire body stilling after burying to the hilt, the unmistakable warmth was flooding you. Your nails slowly raking down his back, drawing the smallest noises from his lips in between his incoherent mutters as he continued rutting out his high.

Peppering an array of wet kisses along your jaw and muttering "I'm sorry" in between each one, his embarrassment was evident. He pulled back, eyes meeting yours briefly before looking down to where you two were still connected, "Got me feeling like a god damn virgin," he mutters out, chest heaving and flushed a dark pink as he tries to regain his composure.

Peter slowly pulled out, gaze staying stuck on his cock leaving your weeping core, the mix of your arousal and his release stiring something inside him. His mesmerized look on his face making you lean up to see where he was tranfixed just in time to watch his once softening cock stir back to life, head still breaching you, and the oozing creaminess of his high coating the both of you.

Abruptly, successfully knocking the wind out of you with a high-pitched moan, Peter was slamming back into you with his own whimper from the overstimulation. His arms fell to either side of your head, caging your gaze and keeping your eyes fixed on his. The long lashes, the slight stubble, the faint scars from hundreds of patrols, and his scent - cinnamon sticks and pure musk - encapsulating you in every way your friend shouldn't.

"'m no where near done with you, baby, got lost time to make up for, yeah?" His tone pussy drunk, but mixed with someone else you couldn't quite place.