#writing peter fics makes me soft

[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.

[monserelates]

Rainy Days and Warm hands; James Potter

James Potter x F!Reader - Fluff - Oblivious Best Friends In love

summary: when reader is attacked by period cramps and the marauders comfort her—especially James.

a/n: So I’m writing this as a heating pad lays on my stomach and I try not to off-myself because of these cramps. This fic was heavily inspired by how I’m feeling right now and I hope it can bring you guys some comfort! Enjoy!! <3

cw: no use of y/n, no lily (sorry:( ), dynamics between the marauders and reader, “hurt”!reader, protective!james , fluff, period cramps, I don’t know if i’m missing anything but if I am let me know in the commenta! This is my first fic and english is not my first language, sorry

word count: 1.2k

it was raining.

not the thunderstorm kind—just the soft, sleepy drizzle that tapped at the windows of the gryffindor common room like it was asking to be let in. the fire was low, crackling gently. the tower was nearly empty, and everything, portraits, curtains, the hush of air, felt slower, softer.

you were curled up tight on the red velvet couch with your red and gold blanket that read “Gryffindor”.

arms wrapped hard around your stomach.

you hadn’t said anything all day, just that you were tired. but james had noticed. the way your face twitched every so often. how your breaths came short, like each one had to tiptoe past the pain. how you held your stomach as if you were afraid you were going fall apart.

he walked in from the boys’ dorm, hair damp from the showers, and spotted you instantly.

“hey—” he started, but his voice was softer than usual. “you’re curled up like a cat.”

you didn’t answer.

just a small, miserable shake of your head.

he was at your side in seconds. kneeling on the rug. brushing the hair out of your face like it was instinct.

“is it bad?”

you gave the smallest nod.

“cramps?” he whispered.

another nod.

james frowned—and stood up fast.

“don’t move,” he said.

as if you could.

—

sirius stumbled in next, hair wet and wild, dripping onto the rug.

“you look like you just got hexed.”

you lifted your gaze from the crackling fire place to his eyes.

“gee, thanks.”

“Prongs! what happened to her?”

“cramps,” james called from upstairs. “the bad kind.”

“there is no good kind.” marlene exclaimed before giving sirius a peck on his cheek.

“oh,” sirius said, and crouched down next to you. “stupid uterus.”

you made a small noise—almost a laugh.

“i could hex it?” he offered. “i’ll be gentle.”

you shook your head, a tired smile twitching at your mouth.

“how are you feeling, love?” marlene asked, sitting on the armchair next to the couch you were laying in.

you sat up but winced, so went back to your resting position.

“i’ve been better”.

“well,” sirius said, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders, “when my stomach hurt this bad, it was because i ate ten cauldron cakes in a row. i do not recommend. but this? this is worse.”

he sat next to marlene, rubbing circles on your back. humming something off-key under his breath.

—

remus came in quietly. hair damp. book under one arm. tea in the other.

he spotted you right away.

“oh, love.”

he didn’t touch you—just set the mug on the table and placed a slim book on the armrest.

“All The Young Dudes, your favorite” he murmured. “thought it might make you feel better”

then he sat by the fire and began to read aloud, slow and soft. his voice was like the rain—gentle, rhythmic.

the words flowed like magic, and everything in the room seemed to breathe with him.

—

peter appeared next, eyes wide with concern.

“do you want a biscuit?”

you didn’t answer.

so he disappeared and came back two minutes later with a napkin full of biscuits.

“i brought four,” he said, awkwardly. “and nibbled the weird one. just in case.”

you let out a shaky little laugh.

the kind that cracked the ache for a second.

“thanks, pete.”

peter lit up like he’d cured you entirely. “you’re welcome,” he said, with a proud thumbs-up.

—

james came back.

his hair was even messier now, and he was holding his wand in one hand and a steaming hot water bottle in the other.

“alright,” he said. “move over.”

“mate,” sirius warned, “she’s literally dying.”

“i’ll be gentle.”

he sat beside you and pulled you carefully into his lap.

your head found his chest like it had done it a hundred times before.

his arms wrapped around you, warm and protective, and he pressed the bottle gently against your belly.

you let out a shaky breath. your fingers curled in his jumper.

he held you like he’d been waiting to. like if he just kept you warm enough, steady enough, it wouldn’t hurt anymore.

“you always take care of us,” he whispered against your hair. “let us take care of you, yeah?”

you didn’t speak. you didn’t need to.

—

you heard remus reading. felt sirius humming. saw peter offering another biscuit with wide eyes. and james…

james held you like a secret.

—

the rain tapped softly on the windows. the fire cracked.

your eyes fluttered shut. it still hurt—of course it did.

but the ache wasn’t alone anymore.

now it lived inside this circle of warmth and love and stupid boys who knew exactly what to do when you didn’t have the words.

and somewhere, between rain and breath and james potter’s steady heartbeat,

you started to feel just a little bit better.

just enough.

—————

you were asleep.

for real this time—slow breathing, limp arms, lashes fluttering against the curve of your cheek.

james didn’t dare move.

you were still curled in his lap, face tucked into his chest like you belonged there, like you’d always been his. the hot water bottle had gone lukewarm, but you didn’t seem to notice. one of your hands had found the hem of his sweater and curled around it in your sleep, like even unconscious, you needed him close.

sirius had migrated to the floor by the fire, flipping through remus’s poetry book and adding questionable commentary every few lines.

“‘in the stillness of pain, love makes itself known,’” sirius read dramatically. “he should’ve added, ‘through cramps, chocolate, and holding her like a stuffed animal.’”

“he isn’t a stuffed animal,” remus muttered, not looking up from his parchment.

“tell that to her,” sirius said, jerking his chin toward james.

james gave him the finger.

he hadn’t stopped watching you.

you looked so small, for once. so quiet. like a soft, exhausted version of the girl who always made faces in class and stole the last treacle tart from his plate.

his hand was resting against your back, thumb brushing slow circles. he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“you’re staring again,” peter said helpfully, popping half a biscuit in his mouth.

“i am not,” james whispered.

“mate,” sirius said, “you’ve been staring like she’s the bloody moon for ten minutes.”

“more like fifteen,” remus added. “i was timing it.”

james opened his mouth to argue—then froze.

click.

the portrait swung open.

“mr. potter.”

everyone froze.

mcgonagall stood at the entrance, umbrella in hand, her expression unreadable.

she took in the scene:

you, fast asleep in james’s lap.

james, frozen in place like a deer caught in the wandlight.

sirius with one biscuit stuffed in each cheek like a squirrel.

marlene standing up so fast she had to grab onto a chair for support.

remus mouthing abort mission.

peter waving, for some reason.

“please do try,” mcgonagall said, dry as toast, “not to drool on her head.”

sirius howled.

james flushed red. “i wasn’t—i—she’s sleeping!”

“and you seem quite pleased about it,” she said, arching a brow.

“i’m just—helping!”

“of course you are,” mcgonagall said, already turning back toward the door. “five points to gryffindor for emotional support.”

and she was gone.

the room burst into laughter.

you shifted slightly in his arms, nestling closer.

james looked down at you and sighed, the corners of his mouth softening.

“you’re so doomed,” sirius whispered gleefully.

james smiled.

maybe he was.

but holding you like this—warm and safe, even just for a while?

he wouldn’t change a thing.

[writtenbymoonflower]

hii! this is my first time requesting ever so i hope im doing this right 😫

could i request a tasm!peter smut fic where the reader has never had an orgasm? they’ve tried before, so they’re not necessarily innocent, but it’s just never happened. peter then helps reader orgasm for the first time and it’s just overall very fluffy :) fem reader please!

thank you!! i love your writing!!!!

thank you for requesting hunny! you did it exactly right. tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader

cw: detailed smut, fingering, trope of experienced guy, inexperienced girl, swearing

1k words

The turn the afternoon had taken was definitely unexpected, but certainly more than welcome. Peter had initially invited you over to study, but you had gotten distracted. Now your books had been clumsily flung off the bed long forgotten and abandoned for better things. You laid upon rumpled covers, Peter tugging impatiently at the neckline of your top as he kissed you. You arched up into him, pulling him as close as physically possible. His mouth met the fingers of one hand at your collarbone, the other gripped your waist, nudging the fabric away to touch your skin. 

“This okay, baby?” Peter held himself above you, scanning your face for any traces of what you were feeling. 

“Yes please.” You said, a little too enthusiastically for your tastes. You checked his face for any evidence of discomfort. “Are you okay with this?” 

He was grinning at you now, eyes full of affection. “Yes, I am okay with this.” His tone implied that it was far more than just “okay”. That was further confirmed when his hips slotted into yours and you felt the full evidence of his desire. Your shirt and pants were soon discarded and his your boyfriend’s hands were eagerly exploring every inch of newly-exposed warm skin. He pulled away briefly to remove his own shirt, but the second the material was gone he was on you again, greedy and excited. As he mouthed at your neck his fingers were trailing down your torso, leaving the nerves hypersensitive in his wake. They slipped into the waistband on your panties, lighting your skin on fire.

“Can I touch you here, sweet girl?” He whispered into your neck, his thumb pressing over the damp center of your underwear. You nodded fervently, mumbling affirmatives. You felt him smile against your collarbone as he tugged your panties off, not caring where they landed. You relaxed your legs as he opened them slightly, trailing his long fingers teasingly up your thighs as he got closer and closer to the apex. Just before giving into your wants, he moved them away, chuckling mischievously at your frustration. 

“Please, Pete.” You grabbed his wrist moving him closer to your core. He grinned against your neck as he obliged you, fingers trailing up and down your slit a few times before settling at your clit. You let out a shaky sigh as he rubbed you in light circles, slowly winding you up. 

“Yeah, baby? That feel good?” He questioned. 

“Yes.” You answered, even though you knew it was rhetorical. You gently pulled his head up to be level with yours. “Kiss me please?” 

He did so without any teasing or games. His mouth was sweet and gentle on your lips, even as he moved them down to your jaw and ear, letting your soft moans slip freely from your lips. As you got more worked up his fingers became more determined, letting two slide to your opening as your clit pulsed beneath his thumb. Peter circled your entrance, awaiting your pleased reaction before they slipped inside of you, searching for the spot on your front wall he hoped would make you fall apart. He quickly found it.

“Oh shit.” You choked, letting your head fall back further against the pillows. It only took a few more seconds of his fingers and thumb working you for your hips to start bucking. There was an unfamiliar heat building in your belly. Usually by now, sex would be almost over. Or, if you were on your own you would’ve given up before even starting. 

Peter sat up a little as his other hand held you in place. He looked too pleased with himself at your reactions. Your whole body started building up and you panicked. 

“Oh my god. What’s happening?” You were squirming even as he held you down. He immediately slowed his movements.

“Are you alright?” He asked, looking you over. 

“It feels weird, like in my- my stomach. I don’t know what’s happening.” You scrambled breathlessly. He looked in realization, immediately doubling his actions. He cooed at your jolting. 

“It’s okay, baby. Just relax, let it out. I’ve got you, you’re alright.” You loosened, deciding to let the feeling take hold. And take hold it did, you would’ve lept off the bed if his free hand wasn’t pressing firmly into your pelvis. Your body wound tighter and tighter until it all fell apart, pleasurable spasms flowing through your jelly limbs as you gasped and squeezed Peter's arms and shoulders. Electric warmth fizzled through you as your eyes grew heavy. Peter slowed his movements, muttering praises and affirmatives as you came down from your high. 

“Thank you.” You said as you caught your breath. You sat up and pulled him closer, desperately wanting closeness and feeling like you would go crazy if you didn’t get it. He chuckled at your rare display of neediness. 

“You’re fucking adorable.” He kissed your cheek, holding you close. He waited a few seconds before rolling onto his side, looking at your face. “You feeling okay?” 

“I feel really good.” You sighed, melting into the sheets. You reached your his hand, stroking your thumb over the prominent veins in his wrist. You laid there in silence for a short while before he spoke up, skepticism lilting his voice.

“So like, you said that you’ve had sex before, right?” His tone was curious as he was still pawing at your hair and chest affectionately. 

“Yeah? Why?” 

“Have you never, like, cum before?” He seemed confused. You choked out a surprised laugh. 

“I thought I had.” You said, winded. "Is it supposed to be like that every time?"

He laughed, smoothing your hair away from your face. "I don't know, babe. I’m pretty sure it is." He looked equal parts smug and affectionate.

"Well it's never been like that before.” You said, wistfully. A smile soon returned. “That felt really good, Pete.”

He laughed, clearly endeared by your longing tone. “Well I would hope so.” He eyed you, scheming. “I bet it could be better though.”

You looked at him wide eyed, nervousness and anticipation building in your core again. “Really?”

He loomed over you again, lips finding your ear. “There’s only one way to find out.”

[ginevrapng]

I saw that you were accepting requests and I was wondering if you could write something about best friends’ dads!marauders x reader or something like that?

If not, I completely understand! <3

i've never written bestfriends!dads before so i hope you enjoy it! i didn't know if you wanted me to include peter but the majority of marauders fics leave out peter and i think this concept works better without him. <3

there was a lot of great things about being harry potter's best friend, one of those things happens to be getting to spend time with his hot dad james, completely off limits dad. that doesn't stop you from thinking about how charming he is though.

you've seen photos of james when he were younger and harry is a spitting image of him. now with age he's changed in all the best ways, his hair less messy, neater with slightly having the appearance of being slicked back and with thicker frame glasses. a distinction between him and harry, both younger and older is his build, james being more built with broader shoulders and more muscular.

he's kind and considerate and always calls you 'sweetheart' making you flush and every time leaves you wide eyed. you've never heard him call anyone else sweetheart so it's always leaving you feeling bashful.

james tells you that you can come and visit and stay whenever you want and you're always welcome so whenever you spend time at harry's you also end up seeing his two godfathers who also spend a lot of time there. whenever that happens you are rather reluctant to leave the house, not just enjoying all the company that they deliver but also how attractive they are, just like james.

remus somehow always memorising you. like when he rolls his sleeves up so you can see his arms or how you swear you sometimes see in the corner of your eye glimpses of him looking at your lips while you're talking. his jumpers and cardigans always looking so comfortable and soft, you wonder what they'd look like on you. you think about his sandy hair that covers his eyes and his beautiful hazel eyes that crinkle when he smiles and how he always looks tired and how you'd happily let him rest and sleep on you. he never talks about his work but it must be pretty rough for him to constantly look so tired.

sirius is ruggedly handsome always leaning against walls instead of sitting down, even when a seat is available. leaving you watching longer than you should as you watch his pose and see him stretching causing his tshirt to rise, exposing a bit of his torso. he has his long jet black hair which now has streaks of grey that he constantly runs his hands through.

you're going back into the living room, where everyone is, after you went to the kitchen to get a glass of cold water due to the heat and see sirius moving in a way that momentarily makes you freeze.

"you alright doll?" sirius smirks at you after spotting you. you nod but are unable to stop shifting side to side nervously after being caught, causing him to raise his eyebrow, looking amused as he chuckles at you.

this is the first time any of them has addressed your behaviour towards them but they have all noticed your longing looks and shy glances.

they've all been waiting for the moment to make a move and they're starting to lose their patience. you were none the wiser with their intentions, trying to get you alone, away from your friends and away from harry, asking you personal questions and give you special attention.

"you got a boyfriend or girlfriend doll? sirius asked you out of the blue one day, catching you completely off guard.

you splutter and try to answer while james starts speaking. "you're not dating my harry are you sweetheart?"

"what! of course i'm not! we're just friends." you say probably louder than you should, wanting to defend yourself.

you hear someone coming up behind you, "good." remus clasps your shoulders with his hands, slowly rubbing them and making patterns with his thumbs before he moves away and goes to help sirius with the washing up.

fiddling with your fingers you watch them all clear the table and sort out things that needed to be doing in the house with a small dreamy smile on your face.

[fear-is-truth]

slow down ── dilf! peter maximoff x f! reader

⟡ NSFW || MINORS DNI 18+

⟡ TAGS: sexual content ・ fem!reader ・dilf!peter ・ unprotected p in v・ english is not my first language so bear with me・not proofread ・word count: 1,831

⟡ SYNOPSIS: domestic life with peter

a/n: i just finished my assignment for criminal law & wrote this fic with the aid of monster energy. kindly ignore the atrocious writing lol

“Hey kiddo! Bedtime!” Peter called down the hallway. He waited, silence.

“You’re not in bed yet! I’m gonna have to tickle ya to sleep if ya don’t get moving!”

Still nothing—except the faint sound of a stifled giggle. Peter’s lips twitched into a smile.

Game on.

He leisurely made his way down the hall, towards the living room, passing Luna’s bedroom door without sparing a glance.

“Huh, that’s weird,” he wondered out loud, playing it up.

“Where’s my kid? I swear I had one, like, five minutes ago.”

Peter exaggerated his search, peeking behind the curtains and glancing under the furniture. More giggles, and he nearly broke character with his own grin. He then made a big show of scratching his head in faux puzzlement.

“Nope, no kid here. Oh well,” he sighed dramatically. “Hmm, could’ve sworn I heard something. Maybe it’s a mouse. Or a cookie thief…”

At that, Luna couldn’t hold it in any longer. She popped out from behind the armchair.

“Noooo! Daddy, I’m here!” she squealed, bursting into laughter. Peter spun around, feigning surprise. “There you are! Thought I’d have to call the FBI or somethin’!”

Squealing with delight, the five-year-old bolted down the hallway as fast as her little legs could carry her. Peter was on her in an instant, zooming past you with a playful wink before scooping her up into his arms, spinning her through the air.

“You’re getting too fast for me, kiddo,” he grunted, as he carried her towards her bedroom, the little girl squirming in his grasp and laughing hysterically.

You leaned against the doorway, amused by the back-and-forth that had become so routine.

“Peter, you’re supposed to be calming her down, not winding her up.”

“I’m working on it,” he called back, depositing his daughter onto her bed and tucking the blanket around her.

“Fine, but when she’s bouncing off the walls at midnight, you’re the one getting up with her.”

Peter shot you a smirk, showing that he knew exactly what he was doing. He reached down and ruffled Luna’s hair, earning another giggle from her,

“Alright, peanut. Let’s make a deal. One more story—only one—Deal?”

Luna’s eyes lit up, and she bounced in her bed. “Deal!”

“Peter,” you reminded him, stepping into the room with a raised eyebrow, “you said ‘one more story’ three stories ago. She’s going to be up all night at this rate.”

Your husband grinned innocently.

“C’mon, what’s one more story? Just gotta make sure she’s really tired.”

He turned toward the bookshelf, fingers dancing over the colorful spines.

“Which one are we reading tonight? Something super long, I bet.”

She giggled, pointing at a well-worn book. “That one, Daddy!”

He picked it up, settling onto the edge of the bed as Luna snuggled under the blankets. “Alright, one loooong story, but then it’s off to dreamland. Yeah?”

•••

After Luna was sound asleep in her bed, and you’ve done your playful striptease, it was time for you to free Peter from his jeans. In the process of removing his belt, your fingers accidentally brushed the strain in his crotch.

“Mghmm… careful there babe.”

He inhaled sharply, and you indulged in the temptation, gently rubbing him through the denim with your left hand while unbuckling his belt and pulling down the zipper with your right.

His body pressed against yours, and you felt the soft push as the back of your legs met the edge of the mattress. With a smirk, Peter wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You let out a delighted squeal, soft giggles filling the space between kisses as your fingers clung to his shoulders for support. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to the bed, feeling the heat of his cock press against your abdomen.

“Please, Peter. I want you, so bad.”

And that was all your husband needed to hear. He laid you gently on the mattress before crawling forward, positioning himself to settle between your legs. Breathlessly, you gripped his shoulders and lifted your hips slightly, moving in sync with him as he lined himself up. Peter began to slowly ease himself into you, groaning into your shoulder, warm puffs of his breath tickling your skin.

He paused for a moment for you to adjust, before pushing further until he was fully sheathed inside you. The delicious stretch of your pussy was nothing short of glorious.

“Oh god… Nghmm — Peter,”

You whined, tightening your grip and leaving crescent-shaped marks on his skin as he started moving. He slowed down mid-thrust to mumble against your cheek,

“Love you too baby,”

Peter rested his chin on your shoulder, placing hot kisses along the column of your throat as he moved, He shifted his hips to find a better angle, and you gasped when you felt his tip nudge against your cervix. Your spine arched and your heels dug into his back as he thrust into with such force that your body slid a few inches towards the headboard, the sheets creasing around you.

“A-ahhh— fuck–”

A strained moan tumbled from his lips when he sheathed himself to the hilt. You can tell by the vein popping on Peter’s neck that he wanted to lower his head, but he was fighting every instinct to keep his eyes focused on you, chocolate irises fixated as you both begin to ascend towards the precipice.

The sight of him, biting his lips and brows furrowed in such concentration made the hot coil in your belly tighten. Supporting his weight on one elbow, Peter slipped his other hand down between your legs, and his fingers—those magical fingers started working your clit almost frantically.

“Please— ohmygod, Peter,”

you babbled, clenching your quivering thighs and throwing your head back when he bottomed out once again. His tip was pressed snugly against your cervix, and you swore you could feel him poke into your stomach, but that did nothing but stir your body into overdrive. You heels dug into his backside, anchoring him as the familiar warmth of his come spurted into your womb. Instinctively, the walls of your pussy clamped tightly around his cock, milking him dry.

“C’mon, baby,” Peter mumbled as he leaned down to give you a quick peck on the mouth, “wan’ you to cum for me, yeah? Cum all over my cock.”

The few seconds between you seemed to stretch into eternity before the coil finally snapped, waves of intense, white-hot pleasure alight your bloodstream as your pussy convulsed around his cock. You placed your palms to either side of his face, his eyes trying desperately to find a part of you to focus on.

•••

Moonlight streamed in through the window, bathing a silvery glow over your bedroom as you lay tangled up in each other, legs intertwined beneath the sheets. Peter smirked lazily as he traced a finger along your arm.

“Y’know, I think ‘m finally starting to get the hang of this whole ‘normal life’ thing. Not as fast-paced as I’m used to, but it’s not so bad,”

You laughed softly, nestling your head against his bare chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

“You? Normal life? That’s a stretch.”

“Hey, I can be normal,” he defended with a grin, though the glint in his eyes said he didn’t really mind being anything but. “I did the dishes tonight. That counts, right?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, letting your hand rest on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin. “You stuffed them into the dishwasher in like a nanosecond. Doesn’t really count when you’re cheating with super speed.”

Peter chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “Alright, alright. But I still nailed bedtime. Got Luna to bed without any major disasters—except maybe that story where I gave the dragon a Brooklyn accent. She seemed into it.”

“She loved it,” you agreed, smiling at the memory of their earlier antics.

“You’re good with her, Peter. You’re her hero.”

“Yeah, well, she’s pretty awesome,” he shifted slightly, turning to look down at you, his silver hair tousled against the pillow.

“She’s got you to thank for that.”

You met his gaze, fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest.

“Pretty sure she gets most of that from you. The attitude, the energy. The ‘never staying still for more than a second’ thing.”

He smirked, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Gotta keep things interesting, right?”

You let out a soft hum of agreement, your lips brushing against his collarbone as you spoke. “Interesting is one way to put it.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence between you, and Peter’s arm wrapped more firmly around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space between your bodies, just the warmth of his skin against yours. He broke the silence with a quieter, more thoughtful tone. “You ever think about how we got here?”

“Where? In bed?”

“No, seriously,” Peter said, fingers brushing through your hair absentmindedly. “Like, the whole thing. You, me, Luna. I used to think I’d never have something like this. Y’know, slow life, family stuff. Thought I’d always be the guy on the outside, just speedin’ through life.”

You shifted slightly to look up at him, your chin resting on his chest. “What changed?”

He shrugged, his smile softening. “You. You changed everything. Made me realise I didn’t have to run away from it all the time. That maybe I could actually slow down long enough to be a part of something.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned up to kiss him softly, the gesture full of the affection you felt for him. He kissed you back with the same tenderness, his hand cupping your face gently as he deepened it, the kiss slow and sweet like molasses. When you finally pulled back, Peter’s thumb brushed across your cheek, eyes locked on yours in that concentrated, yet familiar way. “I don’t say it enough, but I’m lucky to have you. You and Luna. You guys are my world.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through you at the sincerity. “We’re lucky to have you too, Peter. Even if you’re still kind of a goof.”

He grinned, silver hair falling into his eyes as he tilted his head. “Gotta keep you guys on your toes somehow.”

You laughed softly, settling back against his chest, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a peaceful quiet. His arms wrapped around you protectively, his thumb continuing to brush absentmindedly against your skin. For a while, neither of you spoke, just content to be together. But as you felt your eyes growing heavier, Peter’s voice broke the silence one last time, soft and almost sleepy. “Hey, babe,” he mumbled, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Thanks for making me slow down.”

You smiled against his chest, “Thanks for sticking around.”

He chuckled, his grip tightening around you. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[emeraldserenade]

omg im obsessed with ur writing????

would u be down to write a joaquin torres x gotg!reader?? i think it’d be really cute if reader doesnt know what to make of him since theyve only known the guardians their whole life and arent keen on new people..so joaquin, being joaquin, makes it his mission to break down their walls and show them that they can trust him??

( giggling bc im thinking of the scene in gotg 1 where peter attempts to dance with gamora and she tries to fight him because she didn’t know what he was trying to do )

does that make sense? i am v bad at writing reqs i apologize oh my goodness😭😭😭

Who Doesn't Love Me ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín is used to everyone loving him from the moment they meet

tw: fem!reader, gotg!reader, reader has a small self deprecation moment, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I'm obsessed with this idea! A little disappointed I didn't even think of it!! And yes this makes PERFECT sense, I am the queen of nonsensical rambling when I get an idea stuck in my head (my best friend can attest to that). Are you all sick of me writing yet? Probably not, I'm taking hours between posts 💀

➽──────────────❥

Joaquín Torres truly believed everyone was going to love him as soon as they meet him. Not in a cocky way, but in the way that everyone in his life has loved him pretty much as soon as they met him.

Then you came along, you were smart, pretty, capable of getting anything done, and you didn't like him. Ok, you didn't not like him, you just weren't sure about him.

You grew up on Yondu's ship with only the people on it as your social points, you weren't the greatest when it came to new people. You were polite, you smiled at Joaquín and gave him a small wave, but nothing more. You didn't necessarily go out of your away avoid him, you just tried to stay out of his way. You would slink off when he entered a room, you would keep your interactions short, and you would be polite yet short with him in unavoidable conversations.

It drove Joaquín crazy, he couldn't stand the thought of someone, especially you, not liking him. He tried his hardest, he would keep talking to you and seeking you out until you liked him. But it never worked, you kept running from him like he was diseased.

"I just don't get it Sam," Joaquín fell onto the couch of the little lake house everyone was staying in. Your crew's ship outside and broken and unusable until someone came with a replacement piece. "Why won't she talk to me?"

"Have you tried letting her come to you? She's been in space her whole life, she's probably not used to all of this," Sam gestured to around them vaguely.

"You're probably right," Joaquín mumbled and shifted to look at the TV.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín did what Sam said, he let you come to him. And you did, after the third day of Joaquín not coming to you, you started to miss him. You missed his stupid jokes, his attempts to include you, and his voice. You missed his goddamn voice and face, and you hated it.

"And then boom!" Peter was telling a dramatized version of some events.

"That's not what happened, he was too busy staring at Gamora," you muttered under your breath, not thinking anyone was listening to you. But you were wrong, Joaquín was and he let out a quiet laugh at your words.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Your relationship with Joaquín changed from that moment, you would spent more time with him and got more comfortable with being around him. You were in the room he was staying in as he was putting his laundry away, his music was playing. In a language he said was Spanish, one of the many spoken on Earth. Joaquín extended his hand out to you and you gently took it, confused.

"Dance with me," Joaquín told you and you tilted your head.

"Dance?" You questioned.

"You do now how to dance?"

"I don't know what dance is," you muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

"I'll teach you," he told you, his voice soft. He moved one of his hands to your waist and you took a step back ready to fight him. "You need to trust me," his voice was quieter but you nodded, letting him grab your waist gently and pull you closer to him again. You may not know how to dance, but you could tell that you were moving too slow for the song. Joaquín guided you to sway side to side with him, both of his hands on your waist while yours were locked behind his neck.

"This is how you dance?" You made eye contact with Joaquín, uncertainty dancing in your eyes.

"With someone you like, yeah," Joaquín felt the wave of confidence he had wash away when your eyebrows furrowed and you stopped moving for a moment.

"You like me?" It came out more self deprecating than you wanted it to, but you couldn't take it back now.

"Of course I do, why wouldn't I?"

"I'm from space, I know I'm a little weird," you said it like it was an end all be all.

"I'm from Florida, I'm used to weird," you scrunched your eyebrows again.

"Florida?"

"I've got a lot to teach you, mi vida," Joaquín gently laughed as he pressed his forehead to yours.

"Does that mean you actually like me?" Joaquín could see the hopefulness dance across your face.

"Yeah, it does," Joaquín affirmed and you smiled at him.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

"Ready to go?" Nebula grabbed your arm but you just stood there, your expression neutral as you stared at Joaquín standing there waving at you.

"I," you looked away from Joaquín and towards your friends, your family. "I think I want to stay," you muttered, looking down at the ground beneath your feet.

"We know," Peter gave you a small smile and you whipped your head up to look at him.

"What?" You all but shrieked.

"We see the way you look at the bird boy," Mantis informed you. "I can feel the love radiating from the two of you," she continued.

"You're not mad?" You questioned and they all shook their head.

"Stay safe, kid. We'll come visit," Rocket gave your leg a hug and you smile down at him. You said your goodbyes to your family before stepping back to stand with Joaquín, his arm wrapping around your waist as soon as he could.

"Think you're ready to learn some more?" Joaquín asked, trying to ease the tension in your shoulders.

"Can I pick what I learn first?" You questioned, fighting off the smirk threatening to take over your face.

"Sure, go ahead," Joaquín smiled at you. You said nothing as you kissed him, it was a quick peck on his lips but it lingered long enough for him to process it.

"Think you can teach me how to improve my skills?" You tilted your head as you spoke, your smirk finally breaking free. Joaquín had a smirk of his own before pulling you to him by the waist, your lips meeting in the middle.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[httpvomitello]

hey stunner

I’m the anon who requested Peter x insomniac reader and it was so cute, actually had me giggling and kicking my feet reading it🥹

I don’t know if you do part twos but if you do could I please request a part 2 fic for when Peter and reader wake up and it’s a slow morning and they make tea and coffee together and reader teases him about his horrific bedhead, bonus points if you could include Tony’s reaction to the whole ordeal

thank you and have an amazing rest of your week💕

aah, reading these comments puts a huge smile on my face, no joke ☺️☺️☺️ I usually don't do a part 2 (unless I'm really inspired), but since I enjoyed writing this Peter fic and since I thought their relationship was super cute, and of course, your request too, I decided to do part 2. I hope you like it ~ ♡♡

Mornings Like This .｡*･ﾟﾟ

Summary: After Peter Parker walked across the compound half-asleep to cuddle you back to sleep, the next morning is all slow smiles.

peter parker x f!reader

(Part 1)

You woke up to the feeling of warm breath against your shoulder.

And then—movement.

A small shift, a lazy groan, and suddenly Peter’s arm tightened around your waist like his body remembered your warmth before his brain even turned on.

You smiled to yourself, letting your eyes flutter open.

Sunlight leaked in through the crack in the curtains. Peter was curled up behind you, his face half-buried in your pillow, lips barely parted, his curls going in every possible direction like he’d been dragged through a tornado in his sleep.

“Good morning,” you whispered, turning slightly.

Peter groaned again.

“Not yet,” he mumbled, eyes still shut. “Still sleepin’. Come back in five to seven business days.”

You laughed, soft and quiet. “You snuck into my room like a sleep-deprived ninja. You don’t get to complain now.”

“I didn’t sneak,” he yawned, cracking one eye open. “I was summoned. By the voice of your AI overlord.”

“Oh please...”

Peter shifted, stretching his long limbs in all directions before flopping back against the pillow dramatically. “What time is it?”

You squinted at the clock. “Almost 9.”

Peter blinked. “In the morning?!”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Parker. 9 in the morning, don't tell me you're scared because you slept with me. Come on... You’ve seen worse.”

“I haven’t seen anything worse than your dad at 9AM before caffeine.”

That made you laugh harder. “Fair.”

Peter finally sat up, rubbing his face, hair sticking up like he’d just electrocuted himself. He yawned so wide it made you yawn. And then—

“Damn.” You grinned, fully sitting up now. “What happened to your hair?”

Peter frowned. “What?”

You grabbed your phone and flipped the camera to selfie mode, holding it up. “See for yourself.”

Peter blinked at the screen, then let out a very genuine, very tragic sound. “Is it… worse than usual?”

“Worse? Peter, I think your bedhead achieved sentience.”

He ran a hand through it, only making it worse somehow. “Great. That’s exactly what I wanted to hear from my girlfriend.”

“Want me to help tame the beast?” you teased, crawling closer.

“Only if you promise not to post pictures.”

“No promises.”

He gave you a fake glare that melted as soon as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You grinned. “You love me.”

“…Yeah,” he admitted, voice softer now. “I really do.”

Your stomach fluttered, and before things could get any more sappy, you tugged him up by the hand. “Come on. It’s coffee time.”

The kitchen was warm with morning light by the time you shuffled in, still in your sleep clothes. Peter headed straight for the mugs while you filled the kettle, the two of you moving in practiced rhythm despite the fact you were still barely awake.

“Cream or sugar?” Peter asked, already pulling out the honey for your tea.

“Hot chocolate. And... judgment for your hair.”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, but kissed the side of your head anyway.

You were just settling onto the barstools when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You turned.

Tony Stark stood at the entrance of the kitchen, holding a cup of espresso, dressed like he’d been awake for hours — even though the look on his face screamed 'I’ve seen things I wish I could unsee.'

Specifically, his daughter cuddling Peter Parker like they were married and retired and had just discussed matching pajamas.

Tony took a long sip of his coffee. Then:

“So… Parker.”

Peter froze mid-sip of his coffee. “Yes, sir?”

“You doing the walk of shame through my compound at two a.m. last night—was that a plan or more of an impulse?”

Peter turned bright red. “I—uh—it was strictly comfort-based, sir. No funny business.”

Tony raised one brow. “Define ‘funny business.’”

“Dad,” you groaned. “Nothing happened.”

Tony sipped again. “Oh, I know. I had FRIDAY watching the whole time.”

Peter looked like he might pass out. “You were watching?!”

Tony smirked. “Had to make sure my daughter’s honor was preserved, also to make sure that you wouldn't let me become a grandfather so soon. And wanted to see how long you’d last before drooling in your sleep. For the record — eight minutes.”

You slapped your forehead. “I hate you.”

“No, you love me. I’m adorable.” He turned to Peter. “You? Still on thin ice. But I suppose the fact that you didn’t try anything earns you a few brownie points.”

Peter looked ready to combust. “Thank you…?”

Tony started walking off, waving his mug. “I’m not saying I approve… but I’ll hold off on the disintegration rays. For now.”

Once he was gone, Peter slumped against the counter, eyes wide. “I think I aged three years just now.”

You sipped your hot chocolate, smirking. “Still think you’re my ‘certified cuddle provider?’”

Peter gave you a sideways look. “Only if I live long enough to see next week.”

You leaned in, kissed his cheek again. “I’ll protect you.”

Peter blinked. “From your dad?”

You grinned. “Yes, and any enemy who tries to hurt this beautiful face of my boyfriend.”

[gingerteafairy]

a peter maximoff fic where he can't sleep so reader helps tire him out by making out w him.. they're probably like besties w a lot of tension ! aaa thank you in advance if this is possible to write.

hehehe it's possible. trust me, im living for besties making out. and im so sorry for taking so long </3

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

peter maximoff x fem!reader

tags n warnings: SMUT/MDNI, language, dry humping, mutual masturbation. word count: 1.1k

You only realized how late it was getting when your eyes started losing focus, unable to keep up with the movie’s plot. The dialogue blurred together, the scenes passed without meaning—your brain had already given up on following along. A quick glance at the clock confirmed what you already knew: you really should take better care of yourself, beyond just eating properly.

But still, it was the perfect time for a midnight snack.

With sluggish steps, you got up from the couch and made your way to the kitchen, rubbing your eyes as you searched for something to eat. Your body felt heavy with sleep, your movements slow, and you barely noticed another presence in the room—until you heard the quiet creak of the couch.

Your eyes blinked, waking up a little more when they landed on Peter lying there, legs stretched out, the glow of his phone illuminating his face.

“What are you doing here, Peter?” you murmured, stifling a yawn against the sleeve of your sweater.

“Can’t sleep,” he responded without looking up from the screen, shifting slightly to make space beside him. You didn’t think twice before flopping down, settling onto the couch next to him. “Wanna use matching pfp?” he offered sleepily, lifting one side of it.

“Why? We’re not even dating,” you teased with a small smile, feeling the warmth of the fabric calling to your tired body.

Peter carelessly tossed his phone onto the armrest and, without hesitation, wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Wanna be my girlfriend?” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep, his touch lazy but full of intent.

“I do,” you played along, feeling the comfort of the moment settle pleasantly into your muscles.

He smiled back, a small, satisfied grin, before burying his face into the curve of your neck. Peter’s embrace was warm, comfortable, as if it was shaped just to hold you there.

“Rough day?” you inquired, running your fingers through his silver hair.

“Not really… just stressful,” he exhaled, his big eyes flicking up to meet yours for a moment. “Had to rescue a bunch of people, and no one even said ‘thanks.’”

“That’s tough. You’re always helping everyone…” You sighed, understanding the weight in his voice.

To soothe him, you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. He closed his eyes at the gesture, relaxing a little more.

“It’s… boring.” He sighed deeply before snuggling even closer, burying his face in your neck. His warm breath shivered your skin, causing a small shiver that you tried to ignore. “Is it bad?”

“No…” your voice came out weak, all your effort being used to keep your thoughts away from the heat between your legs as you felt Peter’s nose nuzzling against your neck as he comforted himself on the upholstery.

Peter inhaled against your skin, planting a feather-light kiss on your throat. Your body flinched, pulling him closer as a result.

“Is this bad?”

“No… It’s good…” You mumbled, your nails digging into his back, feeling him press his lips harder, large hands pulling your waist.

“And this?” He asked before sliding his lips over your skin, parting his lips to suck the pressure point, fingers marking your waist.

“Peter…” his name came out slurred, your legs wrapping around his waist, and that was when you felt him pulse on your thigh.

“I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want to do.” He whispered, placing another kiss even more intense than the last.

Your hips thrust towards his pelvis, the wetness now impossible to ignore as it pressed against his hard cock. Peter groaned at the contact, sliding his hands inside your shirt to roll up your back, running his nails lightly on your skin.

Peter thrust his pelvis back against your core, the shorts on your body causing even more friction on your clit, your hips moving in reflex.

You were responding with your body and Peter didn’t want to make you wait. He lifted his head and your lips crashed together hungrily in a desperate kiss. Peter’s hands slipped into your shorts, squeezing the flesh of your bum in his hands, guiding you over your sweatpants.

Your hands pulled his shirt up, scratching his back. You were dripping and he could feel it through the clothing, but he wanted more. Still inside your shorts, he moved one of his hands to your cunt, ghosting one of his fingers into your entrance.

“You’re so wet. So good.” He whispered, inserting a finger and curling it, applying pressure to your spot, watching you tremble and bite your bottom lip. “Do you want me to stop?” He teased, circling his fingertip.

“No—” You moaned, curling your toes as he massaged your nerve point with his thumb. He pulled his finger out, bringing it to his mouth.

“Hmmm…” he hummed, rolling his eyes in delight. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me. You’re even sweeter on the inside.”

Your stomach flipped at his dirty words and Peter brought his fingers back in, thrusting faster. You pulled his pants down with one hand, his rock-hard cock springing out, hanging slightly to the left. Your hand wrapped around it, fist moving to pleasure him too.

“Hmmm, you’re so turned on I didn’t even have to say anything.” He teased, biting the corner of his mouth as you pressed your fingers harder and moved your fist faster. “That’s it. That’s it, really good. You’re talented. You’re gonna make me finish fast in your pretty hands.”

“Yeah?” You smiled proudly, picking up the pace a little more, watching him close his eyes tightly and put another finger inside you, closing the space between the two of you with another clumsy kiss.

“Shit. I’m close, so close.” He warned, grunting with his eyes closed, his body shaking, thrusting his pelvis to fuck your hand.

“Me too, don’t stop.” You begged and he pulled you closer by the hips, penetrating you faster with his fingers.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum m on your belly, okay?” He stammered, his breath hitched, smiling as he saw you nod without being able to speak. “Yeah, that’s it. Oh, fuck. It’s coming.”

Peter opened his mouth, trembling in your hand as the jets came steadily on your belly, staining your shirt. You stopped your hand, but he put it back, helping with ultra-fast movements, the other vibrating inside you, making you come undone faster than expected.

When he stopped throbbing, he removed your hand from his cock and took his fingers out of you, giving your clit a little tap that made you shiver.

“Peter, you—” He shut you with a kiss, putting both hands around your waist, mixing your fluids without realizing it.

“Sorry, I was so fucking hard. Didn't realize I was so desperate, but I’m better now. I promise.” He beamed, pulling up his pants with one of his hands and returning to your waist. With an instinctive caress, your fingers slid through his soft hair again, while the warmth of Peter's embrace slowly guided the two of you to sleep.

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not. 

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents. 

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside. 

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days. 

**

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit. 

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily. 

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

**

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that. 

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page. 

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up? 

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable. 

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it. 

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure. 

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

**

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left. 

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling. 

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything. 

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil. 

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food." 

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?" 

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect." 

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.  

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

**

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get. 

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky. 

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there." 

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes." 

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier. 

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter. 

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done." 

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you. 

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize. 

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up. 

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you. 

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself. 

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom. 

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into. 

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him. 

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him. 

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes. 

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different." 

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now. 

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body? 

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it. 

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words." 

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal." 

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost. 

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing. 

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his. 

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting. 

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last. 

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that." 

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist. 

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core. 

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again. 

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair. 

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye. 

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out. 

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice. 

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this." 

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up. 

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?" 

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded. 

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core. 

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste. 

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud. 

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved. 

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day." 

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him. 

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination. 

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath. 

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that." 

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?" 

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly. 

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this. 

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely. 

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you. 

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you. 

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?" 

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name. 

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you. 

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

[irl-w0lverine]

October 14th - quicksilver (smut)

Pairing : peter maximoff x reader

Warnings : MDNI!! DO NOT READ IF YOUR BELOW THE AGE OF 18!!

P in v, unprotected sex, peter talking you through it, no aftercare, human vibrator

A/n: im actually really struggling to write the rest of the fics, this is literally meant to be out tomorrow at the time of writing

DO NOT BLAME ME FOR WHAT YOU CHOSE TO CONSUME, ITS YOUR FAULT IF YOU READ FURTHER

Peters room was the go to hangout area for the two of you. It was usually the right temperature, he'd have a stash of snacks (of which were mainly twinkies), a few warm blankets for those cold nights you stayed over. It was always perfect.

That leads you to this night. Peters head was resting on your lower stomach as both of you were watching some crappy movie, mindlessly playing with the hem of your shorts.

You could feel his shoulder pressing against the one spot that had been aching for him all day. Every shuffle from him, you have to stop yourself from squirming, trying to get more pleasure from it. Surely he doesn't feel the same way.. Right?

"hey, you ok?" you hear peter ask you, your head giving a small nod, adjusting your position. Thats all you needed for a small whine to slip past your lips.

That stupid damn smirk. Of course he has that stupid damn smirk after hearing that.

"what was that noise?" he scoots up, his elbows proping him up so now his face is mere inches away from yours. His stomach putting pressure on the area you needed him to, causing you to squirm slightly.

"..nothing..?" you knew he wouldn't let it slide. His warm breath was hitting your face, his lips oh so close to touching yours.

"bullshit" before you even registered it, his lips were on yours. You couldn't help but kiss back, your hands going to his hair and pulling him closer.

✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭

After a few minuets of making out, he begins to slip your shorts down your legs, kissing your thighs as he did so.

"god... Your gorgeous.." he groans, not waiting a second to rip his sweatpants off. He was so hard it looked painful, it looked like he would rip open his boxers.

With a blur, he's alright inside of you, his lips against your forehead.

"someones excited huh?"

"cant help it that ive waited this long" he chuckles, pressing his lips against yours once more but this time hes slower, beginning to thrust.

He starts of by being gentle, not wanting to use his mutation to its fullest extent just yet. He was pepering you with kisses anywhere he could reach, nuzzling his face between your breasts.

"you dont have to go soft on me, y'know? I can take it" you huff, getting a bit frustrated at the lack of speed from the guy that is literally known for speed.

"sorry princess" he chuckles "just dont wanna hurt ya'"

With that, he begins to speed up, his hands massaging your hips and thighs.

Not even a few minutes later, hes going x10 faster, his face burried in the crook of your neck. You had never thought he'd be the typa guy to whimper but he is definitely disproving you now.

His hips move in a blur, bringing you to the edge way faster than you'd thought.

"... Ugh... Keep doin' that... Please.." you whine, hands pulling his hair and your lips leaving sloppy kisses on his shoulder.

"wasnt plannin' on stoppin'.. M' pretty girl" his nails dig into your hips, his cock twitching against your walls as they begin to close in on him.

"AHG! Fuck... Shit" he grunts, his seed painting your walls white. His thumb sneaks down and rubs your clit, sending you over the edge and cumming around him.

"... Holy shit..." he huffs, his sweaty body collapsing onto yours.

"... That was amazing.." you tell him, only to realise hes fallen asleep cuding you.

A/n : sorry for how rushed and poorly written this is! Jaytober is kinda making me loose motivation especially since i dont have much free time to do it anymore and my mental health just loves to take a head first dive into depression

Thank you so much for reading! <3

[reverieblondie]

Scary Movie Night

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Full nelson, Oral, Cum eating, Reverse cowgirl.

Summary: Halloween Night and horror movies what could go wrong?

A/N: I can not do kinktober because I write to slow, so this is my Halloween fic instead. Also if you have sent me a request I am working on it so please be patient! If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Peter B Parker here.

Word Count: 6,582

“Oh no please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface I want to be in the sequel!” 

Halloween night, alone with no plans but to watch the horror movie marathon on TV, pass out candy to trick-or-treaters, and gorge yourself on candy and popcorn.  

The movie marathon was going strong. You had started with Nightmare on Elm Street, and now you have moved on to Scream. The marathon was the perfect way to get into the Halloween spirit. Halloween was the perfect night to get your spook on, everyone is entitled to one good scare on the spookiest night of the year. However, you didn't foresee yourself getting scared from the movies with having to constantly get up to pass out candy to eager trick-or-treaters. 

The doorbell rang out causing you to heave yourself from the couch dusting popcorn derby from your chest you flip on your interior lights and answer the door. 

“Trick or Treat!” 

The little Bundle of kids cheered. Ranging in ages you surveyed the group with a smile. A sweet little princess, an impressive robot, and an oddly adorable zombie, with them a tepid teenager with his scary werewolf mask on top of his head. You assume the babysitter for the night.  Quickly complementing their costumes you gave them each a handful of the sugary treats they were so desperate for. Chirping a thank you they all run off to the next house over. 

Smiling as they run off you scan the crisp autumn night watching the masses of excited children cheering and laughing as they run from house to house. As you are greeting some more treaters running to your door, something catches your eye. 

A dark figure seems to be slowly walking in the shadows of the sidewalks carefully avoiding running children and lights as it walks carefully by, surveying the rows of houses. Watching intently you quickly pass out the candy while trying to get a good look at the figure. Then one of the kids chirps a thank you causing you to smile down at them, once the kids run off your porch you look for the figure in the night and it seems to have disappeared. Okay, that was creepy. Maybe it was just a harmless kid, don't work yourself up. 

And you didn’t the whole weird sighting had completely left your mind. You had finished Scream and moved on to Halloween, is it even truly Halloween if you haven't watched this movie at least once? Enthralled in the movie your lights are turned dim to get you into the atmosphere of the film. Then something makes you jump, and it wasn’t the shape on the screen.  

Whipping your head towards the sound, it's like a soft tapping and it's coming from your window. This caused only one thought to rush through your brain- did I lock the window…

Slowly approaching the window you hear the tapping continue and you swear as you inch closer it becomes more rampant. Then as you reach for the curtain it seems to stop. It's probably just nothing, but the thought of that shadowy figure made all your confidence waver. If this is something you are screwed…maybe if you had some company you would be calmer. 

Not wanting to be a horror movie cliche you start looking through your phone's contacts. You need someone dependable, scary, and someone you wouldn't mind hanging out with, like…

You stop scrolling and stare at the contact name: Miguel O’Hara…

Dependable- yes, he can be kinda a hardass but at work, he is always ready to give a helping hand to you every time you ask, even though he would not shy away from giving you shit when given the chance. Though you have grown to enjoy the teasing.  

Scary- Uh, the dude is 6 '9' and built like a brick wall. It was one of the first things you noticed about him, The dude was huge! He could probably crush you if he needed to, though would that be so bad? It has become an office joke that when he's not at work he's living at the gym working out like crazy. How else could he be so big? 

Now Miguel is your friend, you two had gotten close through your jobs at Alchemax, So it's only natural for a friend to let another friend come over right? Even if this said friend is quite attractive, with a gorgeous face, broad back, slender waist, and the best ass you have ever seen. Yeah, hanging out alone in your house shouldn't be a problem…Right?

Taking a deep breath you press the call button. 

-Bring…-

-Brriinnngg…-

“Hello?” 

“Um, Hey Miguel, are you busy?” 

You hear Miguel shuffling around before he answers “What's wrong?” 

Wow, he's pretty perceptive, you didn't realize how shaken up you sounded for him to ask you that so quickly. “Uh, I was wondering if you could…come over?”

There is a long moment of silence then what sounds like an exasperated sigh on Miguel's end. He busy…Maybe you should tell him never mind, you're the one who decided to watch horror movies alone and-

“Okay, I will be there shortly.” 

Well that took zero convincing, “O-okay, see you then”

-click-

——-

Making sure to pick up your living room a bit you anxiously await for Miguel to arrive. The random tapping has stopped but you're still walking apprehensively through your home. Turning back on your lights you continue to watch the movie trying to distract yourself but you feel your hands getting clammy and anxiety rising. Were these movies just getting to you? Or Is there stuff happening? Worse than that, Is Miguel going to think you're crazy? 

Checking your phone every couple of minutes waiting for a call or text from Miguel. He said he would be here shortly but it feels like forever, where is he? Having nervously eaten all your popcorn you go to make another bowl. Throwing the bag in the microwave you start the time and think about how you just saw this same situation in Scream. Waiting patiently you're starting to think you're overreacting a bit. That tapping could be anything, maybe when Miguel gets here you two can laugh at this. He has the most amazing laugh…

Then a sudden thumping breaks your daydream. Frozen, you don't move a muscle, you don't even dare to breathe as you slowly move your gaze to the window where the tapping had been. But, the thumping noise is fainter, and it's almost like something hitting something on your windows. For a second you think, is someone egging me? You thought you could avoid that because you got the good candy. Is someone messing with you? Maybe this is all in your head? 

The thumping then turns into a window-rattling, like it's being pried open, your blood runs cold…

Eyes flicking around the room, your gaze gets glued towards the bathroom, and you clutch your cell phone tightly, is this happening…do I look? Absolutely not! Frantically you look at your phone. Where the hell is Miguel? 

Then the sound of your doorbell chime sounds like a saving grace. Quickly you rush to open the door, but it doesn't budge. Danm-

Fumbling with the lock you quickly swing the door open and there he is. Miguel O’Hara, in all his beautifully intimidating glory. God, you could just kiss him. You didn't even care that he was looking at you like you were insane. Without a second thought, you're pulling him by his shirt inside, slamming your door shut. Turning to him with wild eyes the hysteric words flying from your mouth.  

“Canyougocheckthebathroom, Iheardanoise and I’M Freaking out!” 

Miguel just looks at you baffled before he swivels his head around responding with a casual sigh. “Where's the bathroom?” 

Timidly you point down your dark hallway and Miguel instantly starts walking that way. Following close behind it takes everything in you not to cling to his jacket. Now you are usually a lot braver, but the oddness of the whole situation has you in a tissy.  

Miguel stops at the closed bathroom door, turning his head over his shoulder he points his index finger to the door in a silent question. Nodding with a yes he opens the door with a confident swing walking through. You're more apprehensive as you peer through the doorway holding your hands tightly to your chest. Looking through your bathroom it's completely normal, apart from the mountain of a man looking around at it. 

Turning to face you his chiseled face in a quizzical glare of ‘okay?’ 

Pointing to the window you meekly say “I thought I heard the window being opened..” 

Nodding Miguel parts the curtains to reveal a shut window, going the extra mile he even tries to open it but it's locked. Closing the curtains back he turns to you placing his hands on his hips.

“Anything else?”

Looking at the shower you nudge your head at it. Seeming to roll his eyes slightly he opens the curtain to reveal an empty shower, murderer free. Sighing, your tension starts to ease up, everything seems fine, other than you acting like a damn spaz.

“You okay scaredy-cat?” he says with a smirk. 

Rolling your eyes you're not amused by the nickname, “Yes I am fine, now can you give me a minute?”

Miguel shrugs with a smile and walks out of the bathroom, he turns like he's about to say something but you quickly slam the door closed, locking it.  Pressing your back to the door you run your hands through your hair and down your face feeling ridiculous. Nothing is here to get you…plus Miguel is here you need to get a grip.

After regaining your composure, doing your business, washing your hands, and maybe putting on some mascara and fixing your hair a bit, you finally exit the bathroom. Walking into your living room you are met with the sight of Miguel walking out of the kitchen, jacket removed, revealing a black tee shirt that does everything for his muscular physique; the cherry on top, he has taken your popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. -well just make yourself at home the O’Hara

Feeling a bit awkward you decide it's the polite thing to thank him, “Thank you for coming over and checking my bathroom…” 

Miguel nods plopping down on your couch and placing the popcorn on your coffee table, “you know, Maybe you shouldn’t be watching horror movies by yourself if you're just going to get scared by them” 

Touché-

“Well…That's why I have you, you get to be my bodyguard”  You say with a chuckle as you turn off your lights and slide down onto the couch next to him. 

“I don’t know, I was working before you called…” 

“Working?” This shouldn't be a surprise, of course, he was….”Well that's not a very fun Halloween” 

“And getting scared by cheesy horror movies is?” 

“Hey, At least it's festive, plus it’s not the movies that spooked me, some weird person was lurking around and this odd tapping, then the window…” 

As you speak you look up and see that Miguel is listening intently, hanging on to each word that leaves your lips, you can't help but feel your cheeks blush from his fervid stare. 

“I don’t know…maybe it was the movies…”

“I’ll stay”

“Huh?” You look at him confused 

Miguel casually grabs a handful of popcorn “I said I’ll stay, I don't have to finish that work right now and you seem genuinely scared, though I think you have just been watching too many movies niña” he playfully nudges you with his elbow and you nudge him back making him laugh causing you to blush again. 

“Plus…” he adds while dragging his eyes over your face, then down your body, studying your form for a moment “It will be..festive..” he looks back into your eyes and quickly averts his gaze to the movie, eating his popcorn casually. 

-------

This is not how you saw your evening headed, alone in a dark room with Miguel. Sure you have had the odd fantasy of this moment before but there was no TV playing, and there were also no clothes…the popcorn was still present though…

Trying to be engrossed in the film you can’t help but take your eyes away to look over at Miguel. Fidgeting around on the couch, Danm, you need to relax. Miguel is being a good friend and just trying to watch a movie he doesn't need to be ogled by you!  

As you continue to be at war with yourself your fidgeting and sighing must have gotten Miguel's attention. Because he’s then carefully wrapping an arm around your shoulder and bringing you in close. Feeling your face turn through three variations of blush you allow yourself to be pushed closer till your head is on his shoulder. Before you can even fumble with a response Miguel is speaking up. “You seem like you're scared…”

Not scared, just burning in desire for you, but I will take what I can get. “Thanks, Miguel.”

Completely ignoring the movie now, you don't even know what's on, you are just enjoying the closeness of Miguel's warm body. He might be the world's most cuddly man despite appearances. The best part was when a  jumpscare would suddenly happen, he would hold you tighter like he was trying to protect you. His calm rhythmic breathing and how his fingers subtly rubbed loose strains of your hair it was so calming. Calling him over was the perfect move, everything was going great. 

But there was something that just didn't make sense to you, “How come you're not at some kind of Halloween party or something?” you inquire looking up at his sculpted jaw. 

Miguel shrugs, moving his eyes away from the screen to look at you  “How come you're not at a Halloween party?” How come he can’t ever just give a straight answer-

Rolling your eyes you scoff “I’m not a fan of parties they tend to be overwhelming and usually kinda a letdown. Like I’m not going to go there and meet some sexy masked man to sweep me off my feet by fulfilling my every desire…” 

Miguel looks at you confused and you just giggle “Heh, I read a story about it once…Anyways I like staying home to pass out the candy, it’s fun getting to make the kid's night.” 

“You like kids?” he quickly asks. 

“Sure, I mean I want some of my own one day.” As you answer you look over at Miguel and you think you see a slight smile on his lips as you speak. 

“Seriously though, how come you weren't doing anything on Halloween?” you ask, trying to get the truth. “Didn't you get invited to go out?”

Miguel sighs, “Well yeah but, I’m like you, I don't like parties, horror movies are not my favorite, and kids don't trick or treat in my building, Plus…I was kinda waiting”

“Waiting? For what?” you say furrowing your brow at him.

“Well, I was waiting to see if you were going to invite me out” His sudden confession has your heart warming, and before you can get too mushy you slip out a laugh elbowing Miguel in the abs. “If you wanted to hang out you could have just called, you know?”

“I know, I guess I’m lucky you freaked yourself out so much you needed my company, scaredy-cat.” he teases leaning further into you and making your body warm.

“Hey! I was hearing and seeing things, Mister.” you poke his chest, almost hurting your finger in the process.

“Sure you were…” You and Miguel are both leaning pretty close by now, still laughing with each other. Then you two seem to notice the sudden proximity that has you both turning your heads quickly. 

Miguel and you continue your playful banter as you watch the movie. He complains how everything is predictable, proving his theories by telling you who will die and in what order, you call him a buzz kill and playfully pinch his sides as he continues to ruin the movie. Miguel meets your pinching by doing it to you, this quickly escalates to a pinching war on the couch.

Lost in the playful fight you and Miguel feel the tension building around you until the ring of the doorbell cuts through the laughing. Sounds of excited laughter following the ring, you look to the door and smile at Miguel “Well, duty calls,” Miguel moves so you can slip past him, and you head towards the door. To your surprise, however, you notice that Miguel is following you. Looking at him confused he averts his eyes and places his hand on the back of his neck, “Thought I could help….” -what a cutie

Smiling wide you place the bowl of candy in his large hands. Swinging the door open you see a group of giggly kids eagerly holding out their baskets. They all go to sing out their Halloween phrase but suddenly stop with wide eyes and gasped expressions. 

Looking at them confused you wonder what has them looking so shocked till you turn your head and look at Miguel. With the lights dimmed down in your house and the porch light only hitting parts of his face he looks terrifying, also are his eyes glowing red? What?

The youngest kid dressed like a fairy starts to cry, turning to hug her mom's leg. The others are too scared to even move. Miguel, in his infinite wisdom in social cues, leans over slightly and lets out a simple question “What will it be? Trick or Treat?” 

Noticing the kids getting upset and equally the parents, you are quick to soothe things over. Flipping the door light on you makes it easier to see Miguel, making his faceless obscured, this seems to make the kids relax a bit and the moms and dad blush to see his strong physique and chiseled features. 

“Wow! Miguel, don't all these kids look great? Don’t you love the costumes?” You nudge Miguel with a smile trying to get him to smile back. 

Miguel, confused at first, doesn't understand, then lighting up he seemingly catches on “Oh yeah definitely all good, I like the Spider-Man” Miguel points to a kid who is dressed in the Blue and red vigilante outfit (A popular costume since the masked hero started saving Nueva York) the kid gives a thumbs up that makes Miguel smile that has everyone’s heart squeezing.

Finally with the kids more relaxed and the parents thoroughly flushed you crouch down, pulling Miguel with you to drop candy in the kid's bags. You take the time to ask each kid what they are and compliment the outfit. Miguel keeps his smile placed as he watches you with the kids. He seems to enjoy this. Finally, with all the kids giving their sweet rewards you and Miguel wave bye.

Nudging him in the side you get his attention “Try not to scare the kids huh?” 

Miguel rolls his eyes “I didn't do it on purpose.”

Miguel walks back inside towards the movie and you go to reach for the light, but some sudden movement catches your attention. It looks like someone or something running down the side of the neighbor's house. Stepping out into the night air you look and see if you can see it. Inching closer and closer you're trying to catch a glimpse but then the sound of a playful scream down the road makes you jump. Looking back you see a father lifting his daughter and tossing her into the air making her scream and giggle. Taking a breath to calm yourself, you head back inside. Not seeing that the bushes have been rustling…

———-

Settling back onto the couch you are happily eating away at your candy. Trick-or-treaters are heading home for the night leaving the rest of the treats for you to enjoy. Miguel's eyes are focused on you as the candy slips past your lips. 

“I can’t believe you actually can sit here and eat all that sugar” 

You side-eye Miguel “Oh let me guess you don’t eat candy?” Probably not have you felt his abs in that shirt, completely solid-

“I just, haven’t had any that I like” 

“Well, do you not like sweet things?” 

Miguel looks at you for a moment like he wants to say something but quickly changes his mind “It depends…” 

“Well here try this, it’s one of my favorites” 

Quickly unwrapping the candy you hold it up for Miguel to take, but instead of grabbing it from you he leans down and takes it with his mouth. 

Staring at him your thoughts seem to evaporate.- 

Wait, did I just…did he really…did I feed him chocolate?

Staring at Miguel you meet his gaze with wide eyes, is he…no! He probably just took it because he just really wanted the chocolate…

While you're consumed by your thoughts your eyes stay locked with Miguel, he looks nervous. Like he's also surprised that you fed him chocolate, but he was the one who leaned in and ate from your hand! He fed himself! 

Moving his eyes away for a moment he turns away and quickly swallows the candy, as he turns he seems like he wants to say something but instead his intense stare stays on your eyes. Feeling his arm on your shoulders move slowly to your hips curling tighter around you, a crashing wave of excitement washes over you. He slightly leans forward keeping his eyes on yours, it feels like you can’t breathe. 

Heart is beating a mile a minute, all your nerves are on high alert, brain feels like it's frying. His scent, his touch, his intense stare! Wait, are his eyes red again, must be the lighting. 

All of it is overwhelming. With ease, his large hand gently grabs your neck, bringing you closer to touch his plush lips to yours. Eyes shutting instantly you lean into the kiss, pressing yourself closer to his warmth. Seemingly groaning in surprise he leans more, parting his lips slightly to guide you through, mouth moving in tandem with him. Feeling the kiss deepen to a more intense passion you feel Your arousal ruining your panties and body heat reaching a fever pitch. 

Breaking from the kiss to get air you stare at Miguel's face as he catches his breath, he looks downright majestic huffing for air it drives you wild, tightening your thighs together. Taking everything not to pounce him you back up brain scrambling from the hot man panting at you.  

“I-is it Hot maybe I should o-open up my….Window! Yeah, open up my window!” Quickly you scramble to your window pushing past the curtains and lifting the window. The sudden cool breeze does nothing to cool your heated body. Standing there you take deep breaths to calm yourself, then large hands grabbing your hips make your attempts to calm down fail. Feeling Miguel nuzzle into your hair, then his breath fan against your neck has you almost moaning, you just can't help melting at his touch. 

“I’m sorry if that was too sudden, I just…I’ve been wanting to do that..” His arms wrap around you in a hug making you fall into pure bliss

“For how long?” you say breathlessly leaning into his hold. 

Humming Miguel thinks for a moment “About….five months now”

Your eyes shoot open and you turn around and swat his shoulder “You have liked me for five months and you haven't done anything about it!” 

Miguel takes your playful hits for a few more moments before catching your wrist and pulling you in close, “you know if you wanted to kiss me you could have?”

“What? No way, I have been leaving hints this whole time you needed to meet me halfway!” 

Miguel leans in closer, silencing your nagging with a kiss that you quickly fall into, playing with his hair as his hands roam over your body. Breaking away Miguel smiles down at you, “Is this meeting you halfway?” 

Giving a slight pout you look at him with doe eyes “All I'm saying is that we could have been doing stuff sooner if you would have done something.” 

Miguel quickly lifts you kissing you passionately carrying you blindly to the bedroom, when you feel your back hit your bedroom door you break the kiss looking down at his smirking face. “Well let's make up for lost time, shall we?” 

Fumbling with your doorknob trying to open your door, but he swiftly moves your hand, opening the door in a fluid motion. Unable to contain your desires, you feverishly pull on his shirt while his hands fumble with your leggings. Once his shirt is off you take a second to admire his body he just chuckles at you before he's undoing his pants, while taking your top off you watch as his cock springs out from its confines slapping against his abdomen. 

Now fully exposed to one another he can't help but lick his bottom lip taking in all your soft curves. You're equally hypnotized by his monstrous phasic and the massive length that causes your legs to shake. Seeing your nervousness he's quick to relax you. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll make you feel good.” Running his hands all over he gets behind you and walks you to your bed. Pushing you against the bed you're falling on the plush mattress on your hands and knees. 

Miguel's large digits can be felt spreading open your wet folds, you can only whimper as he runs his other finger up and down teasing you. 

“Danm, you're so wet…” 

Before you can give a rebuttal you feel him lick a long strip up your cunt. All you can do is let out a squeak as he ravenously eats your pussy, licking at your slick walls. All you can do is drop to your elbows moaning his name, as he hums and prods his tongue in your quivering slit. 

Finally needing to break for air he moves away, his warm breath fanning over your wet cunt making you squeeze your legs together. Turning your head over your shoulder to look at Miguel and you almost cum right there. He's panting like a damn animal as a mixture of your arousal and his spit coat his chin in a shining sheen. The most alarming thing is that his eyes are blown out in hungry lust “Miguel…” you whimper his name breathlessly. 

“Sorry hermosa, you're just so sweet..” with that he's spreading you open and back to eating your pussy like a starved man making you approach your high. Feeling your body reaching its peak you grind your hips into his face making him latch onto your swollen clit, sucking and twirling his tongue on it. 

“Oh my god! Miguel! Ah!” 

Knowing exactly what he's doing he leans in, humming onto your clit more, sliding two fingers into your slick cunt. moving his fingers in slowly he's spreading you open to accommodate every enticing inch. Once he's knuckle deep he starts pumping his large fingers in and out. Practically drooling now from his pumping plus the hungry licking and sucking of your clit you feel in bliss. It's not until Miguel is letting out a low groan into your cunt that you start seeing stars. 

Trying to squirm away you try to prevent what's about to happen but Miguel grabs a hold of your hips not allowing you to move, continuing his low groans and deep pumping. The white-hot rush washes over you and all you can do is scream his name as you cum, Miguel not wanting to waste a drop of your sweet essence quickly licks and sucks every drop from you, helping you ride your high on his face. 

Coming down from your high you feel Miguel's large hands squeezing your waist, “So good for me baby, so fucking sweet..” 

Before you can even fully get back to your senses Miguel is Pulling you up to press your back to his chest, “now keep being my good girl and ride me..” he growls into your ear. 

Laying down on the bed he steadies your hips as you grab his massive length angling it to tease your slit. His hot tip feels so good teasingly poking at your slit. Looking over your shoulder your eyes fall to Miguel, he looks like he can't take any more of your teasing. Grabbing your hair he roughly pulls making your back arch suddenly “Fucking ride it,” 

Slowly lowering yourself on his cock you feel the stretch making your toes curl, Miguel's large hands rub soft circles on your hips as you stretch yourself full. You're unable to help your mewing of his name as you fully press down to take him all. Not even moving yet your eyes are rolling at the way his tip is already nudging your cervix. Miguel continues to rub his hands up and down your back cooing sweet nothings about how you're such a good girl, his good girl. 

Feeling him throb in you, you're ready for more so you slowly start raising your hips and bringing yourself down, with each motion your cunt clenches down on him savoring the stretch. Once you're accommodated to his size you pick up your pace moving faster and pushing him in deeper, his hot tip has you losing your mind. Grabbing onto your breast pinching and twisting your buds, you're losing it moaning and crying out his name. 

Egged on by your enthusiasm Miguel grips your hips and thrusts deeper, “That's my girl, take it, baby, ah fuck, my cock is yours” 

“Its mine..ah fucking mine” you cry out bouncing faster 

You start to feel the coil in your stomach tightening, feeling your body heating up to a fever pitch. Miguel is right with you approaching as high as he thrust harder cock throbbing and heating to a mouth-watering burn. Grunts falling on deaf ears you're too lost in the chase or your second orgasm, your only focus is to milk him dry, to feel his thick seed fill you. 

The chase gets halted when suddenly Miguel is leaning forward kissing the back of your neck, hooking his arms under your knees. Locking his hands behind your head, the contorting has him fucking your pussy impossibly deeper, his breath is ragged as he moans, “I'm going to ruin this fucking pussy!”

“Fuck! Ruin me miggy!” You didn’t need to ask him twice he's fucking you hard, his in your stomach at this point. The arousal from your cunt is dripping down to your ass as he just takes full control over you. Chest feels on fire as you gasp from his pace which shows no sign of relenting till his cumming deep inside you.   

Practically there you feel your coil about to give, and then Miguel slows his strong thrust to a stop, his breath getting quiet. Turning back to whine at the sudden loss of friction you hear it too…the sound of your living room window sliding up. Still caged in his grip from the Full Nelson you can only look up in horror, your house is being broken into! You weren’t paranoid! 

Miguel slowly releases you from his hold and gently slides out of you moving you to the side of the bed. You can’t help the slight moan you give from not being full of him anymore. Miguel stands up and looks at you placing a finger to his lip reminding you to be silent, his intense eyes looking like they shine red. Quickly following his silence demands you cover your mouth with your hands. 

Slow footsteps can be heard walking through the house and your eyes widen. Who was in here? What is happening? 

Miguel slowly and steadily puts his pants on (disregarding his underwear) and you wrap yourself in a robe. Miguel goes to open the door of the bedroom but you quickly grab his hand to hold him back. Looking up at him with pleading eyes you try and urge him not to go out there, it’s dangerous he could get hurt. 

Without words, Miguel places his hand on your cheek and gives a soft kiss to your lips, a reassurance that everything will be okay. You hate how much it calms you at the moment but can’t help how you surrender to it. 

Miguel goes to open the door but it’s too late, the door flies open and you see a masked intruder dressed in all black. Screaming in terror you hide behind Miguel’s tall stature. To your surprise the intruder also screams when you are, jumping backwards they pin themselves to the wall. Wait? What kind of intruder jumps in surprise? As you shake in fear and confusion Miguel just stares daggers at the person. 

Before you know it the intruder is cussing and running towards the door but Miguel is not having it, he pursues the intruder in a quick sprint. It was honestly a pathetic sight, the intruder scrambling to unlock your front door while the monster of a man Miguel goes to grab him. 

After successfully slipping through the door the masked person starts running down your driveway. However, they were not quick enough, with an incredible force Miguel grabbed the masked person’s shoulder and slammed them to the ground in one swift motion. With the way he swiftly maneuvered it was like Miguel has done it thousands of times. 

Thoroughly pissed off Miguel lifts the now limp figure in the air. Now seeing the comparison between the two you see how the guy didn’t even stand a chance to Miguel, in fact, the figure now seems to be quite slender. Carefully you approach Miguel and the figure. 

 in an animalistic growl, Miguel finally speaks. “What are you doing breaking into y/ns house…” 

The figure lets out a whimper of “Who?” the continues in a pathetic plea,  

“Please sir don’t kill me,” Sir? What? That’s not how intruders sound. Miguel lifts the mask off the person's face to reveal a young man probably a freshman in high school looking like he’s about to pee himself. The young man turns to you with desperate eyes. 

“Ma’am, can you tell your husband to put me down?” Okay, not my husband but I’m not going to correct them. 

“Um, first you need to explain why you were breaking in before I call the police “ 

The kid lets out a whine  “Please don’t! it was just a stupid prank, I was supposed to scare Kenny Crain.” The kid's face flushes and starts to cry

Looking at them confused, you ask, “Kenny Crain?” 

The kid sadly nods and Miguel’s grip tightens, You continue “No Kenny Crain lives here?” Gesturing to your house. 

The kid's tears stop and he looks at you in shock “wait this isn't 945?”

You shake your head “This is 925” 

The kid stops crying and looks to a nearby bush “TYLER YOU FUCKING IDIOT! You scoped the wrong house!” 

A bush rustles before letting out a pathetic “sorry-“ 

Miguel drops the teenager from his grasp to the ground, he makes a sit-down motion with his hand and the teen eagerly obeys. 

With long strides, Miguel goes to the bush and plucks the other teenager out lifting him by the collar and placing him next to his friend. 

Watching as Miguel scolds the teenager you feel a smile creep across your face and that same tingly feeling in your stomach, Miguel O’Hara your hero. 

Walking over you grab Miguel’s arm causing him to fall silent from his reprimanding of the two teens. 

“Miguel, I think they learned their lesson.” You look at the two pathetic-looking teens and they nod urgently. 

Miguel stares at the two young men again, not over what they did “You two, go home and don’t ever do anything like this again. Or else….” 

With that the teens start scrambling and apologizing, running off into the late Halloween night. Your eyes fall to Miguel, his bare chest heaving as he watches the boys run off in irritation, he looks gorgeous. Miguel had come to protect you again, it’s only right you repay him. Sliding your arms around his waist you press soft kisses to his warm body. 

Tease muscles begin to relax with each passing kiss from your soft lips. Swiftly he turns around and looks down at you. You thought he looked fantastic during the day right now he looks damn ethereal. A soft kiss is pressed to your lips, it's caring and full of passion. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips you suddenly feel the night air grazing across your ass as Miguel lifts your robe before his warm hands come to grip you rear, making you whimper. 

Breaking the kiss in one fluid motion Miguel scoops you from your feet and carries you into your home. The kiss becomes hungrier with each passing moment, and before you know it you're crashing onto your sofa with Miguel over you caging you beneath his hard body. Moans escape your lips as he gropes your body, his hands quickly undo your robe, then quickly grab a hold of your breast to play with your sensitive buds, his tongue drags over them coating them in his saliva.  

Pulling away you look at him with blown-out eyes buckling your hips uncontrollably toward him, it's like your in heat. Chuckling softly he bites his lip and he starts to undo his pants, you're still shuddering with anticipation when his cock springs out. 

“You didn't want to go back to the bedroom?” you ask in a shaky breath, holding your hands out to him. Did you want to go back to the room, no you just want to tease him. 

Grabbing a hold of your hands he leans in placing kisses on your fingers and your knuckles before he pins them over your head. 

“I thought you wanted to finish your silly horror movie marathon,” he coos

Grabbing his length with the free hand he slaps it against your aching cunt causing you to jolt your hips up with a quick moan. Proud of himself for the reaction he gets from you he continues as he rubs his cock through your wet folds to gather your arousal, 

“figured we could multitask.”  

With that he slowly seathes himself into your wet heat, your moaning and clawing in back relishing in that fullness you're sure to get addicted to. Miguel can't help but throw his head back at how your pussy sucks him in tightening around him instantly and he's not even fully in yet. Miguel just keeps pumping his hard cock through your velvety tight walls, watching your brain get hazier with each thrust that kisses your cervix, keeping at this you're sure to forget to even breathe let alone watch a movie. 

The Tv seems like a faint buzz between the sounds of Miguel's thrusts and grunts married with your whimpering pants and squelching pussy. The TV catches your attention for a single moment -” Don’t go away, we are playing all Your horror favorites till the witching hour!” 

Miguel grabs your chin and brushes his thumb across your wet lips, a mischievous smirk on his lips makes your sex tighten on him, “Looks like we’re in for a long night baby.”

[fardwader]

you’re too good to me (and you know it, too) pt. 4

pairing: peter parker x fem reader

summary: For some unknown reason, Peter Parker cannot stop finding new, inventive ways to humiliate himself in front of you.

And for some reason, you keep helping him up anyway.

Or, the 5 times you save Peter— and the 1 time he saves you.

pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6

a/n: im alive!!!!! oh my god i have been in the worst writing slump ever, this chapter actually took everything out of me to write (also i am so sick helpme), anyways URGHHH im so sorry for the late upload i hope u guys like this i lowkey hate it but its whatever...

wordcount: 3k

taglist: @ladylokilaufeyson5 @wlnut @lonenymphaea, @moon-shampoo, @elfypineapple

tags: 5+1 fic, slow burn, friends to lovers, reader is annoyingly oblivious, peter is a sad dork, no use of y/n, sarcastic peter and an even more sarcastic reader, multi part, past gwen and peter, not canon compliant, gwen stacy is so beautiful...., crazu overuse of italics, reader is terrified and in denial, reader highkey lowkey doesnt like her boyf...

(four)

Jonah had impeccable timing.

He bumped into you— quite literally— at your cousin's birthday party, sending a huge chunk of chocolate fudge cake off of his plate and onto the only decent evening dress you owned. 

You looked up, ready to physically tear him a new one, and there he was: tall, sharp-jawed, and already offering you a napkin with a sheepish grin plastered on his face.

“I promise you that was not the first impression I was going for.” 

All the insults you had mentally prepared died on your tongue as he smiled, warm and disarming— like sunlight breaking through the sky.

Normally, you’d roll your eyes and mutter something snarky under your breath while you walked away, but instead, a quiet burst of laughter escaped you— a surprised, breathy huff that honestly surprised the both of you.

You quirked a brow. “Do you usually throw dessert at girls you like, or am I just special?”

“Nope,” he said, smile widening, “just you.”

That made you laugh again, fuller and realer this time. Maybe it was the soft haze of the champagne that was making you more agreeable, or the ridiculousness of the entire situation— but suddenly the night didn't seem all that bad.

“Alright, cake boy,” you sighed, dabbing at your ruined dress. “You owe me a drink.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said, shooting his hand out, “It’s uh– Jonah, by the way.”

One drink turned into two, then a shared plate of fries, then lazy conversation about seemingly everything and nothing at the same time. 

Jonah was quick-witted and so very easy on the eyes— muscle in all the right places and dimples that punctuated every warm smile.

He was the kind of guy who, for some reason, knew how to make you laugh without trying too hard. He didn't ask too many questions or try to dig deep. 

He just let things happen. Light, casual, and uncomplicated.

And that was the part you found most appealing.

Because after weeks of quiet, suffocating tension— of tiptoeing around feelings you weren’t ready to name and fearing what might happen if you did— “uncomplicated” felt like exactly what you needed.

So when he asked for your number at the end of the night, you gave it to him without even thinking.

It didn’t feel like a big deal.

Just… nice.

You honestly weren't looking for anything serious, and to Jonah's credit, he never made it feel like you had to be.

Your dates were simple, nothing to write home about. Tacos at a food truck on a Wednesday night, or a walk through Central Park with his hand brushing yours like he wasn’t sure how to hold it just yet, or a movie you barely remembered because the seats were too comfortable and the company too easy.

Jonah never pushed or prodded.

You liked that about him.

You weren’t exactly sure when it shifted— when an easy distraction started to feel like something real.

Maybe it was the night he waited with you at the subway station in the rain, holding his jacket over you both— though it did little to stop you from getting soaked. Still, it was the thought that counted. 

Or maybe it was the morning he showed up at your door with bagels and that dumb, dimpled grin, just because he “had a feeling you forgot to eat breakfast again.”

There wasn’t a single grand gesture. No fireworks. No earth-shattering kiss that rewrote the entirety of your being.

Just a slow, steady bloom of something tender inside of you.

You found yourself texting him when something stupid happened at work, reaching for his hand when the sidewalk got too crowded.

And he was always there.

It didn’t make your heart race, didn’t make you feel like you were flying. But it was there.

Steady. Predictable. Safe. 

And honestly, that felt like enough.

That’s why it stung a little more when he canceled on you for the third time that week. 

It wasn't a huge deal. Just a trip to the movies to catch some shitty slasher movie that came out recently. Something as chill as all the other dates that came before it.

But it was supposed to be your thing, a tiny pocket of time carved out of a week all for you.

'hey, work ran late. raincheck? promise i'll make it up to u?"

You typed out a quick response, yeah no worries its good :), before sighing and chucking your phone face down onto your bed— digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets— because that felt easier than telling the truth.

Because the truth was, you actually tried. Like, really tried.

You'd put on that soft brown sweater he said he liked— that skirt he bought you. You even tried to do something with your hair— for once.

All in a stupid attempt to actually impress him. To matter.

And now, here you were, dressed up for no one. Your chest tight in a way that always came after expectations were left unmet.

You stayed like that for a while— palms pressed against your face, trying to push back whatever ugly emotion that was clawing its way up to the surface. 

Disappointment, maybe. Or just that crushing feeling of someone not showing up for you the way you'd hoped they would.

Eventually, you peeled yourself off the bed and padded into your kitchen. 

Might as well go out or something, go get food while you're actually put together, so the night wasn't as unsalvageable.

But that’s when you saw him.

Peter, looking like death incarnate, slumped against your kitchen counter— practically bracing against it like it’s the only thing holding him up, a hoodie about two sizes too big draped over his form.

His skin is alarmingly pale, contrasted by the flush of his nose. His eyes are glassy, and his hair— usually messy in an endearing way— now just looks sad, flopped against his damp forehead.

“You look like hell.”

“Aw, thanks,” he rasps. “You always know how to make a guy feel special.”

You cross your arms against your chest, leaning against the doorframe, “You’re sick.”

“I’m fine,” he says, voice all muffled and nasally.

“You’re absolutely not fine, you sound like a congested lawnmower,” you say, shooting him an unimpressed look.

“I gotta–I gotta go,” he sniffs, grabbing for his backpack and missing by at least six inches. “Dr. Connors is waitin’ on those tissue samples and I—achoo!—can't just not show up—”

“Come on, Patient Zero,” you grab him by the shoulders, dragging him to the couch, “sit down before you pass out.”

Peter opens his mouth to argue before being interrupted by a violent cough that practically doubles him over.

You arch a brow.

“...That could’ve happened to anyone,” he manages to rasp out when it’s over.

“Sure. Anyone who’s extremely, definitely sick.”

“I heal fast,” he says, still fighting. “I’ll be fine in like, twenty minutes— just need some Dayquil and maybe one of those throat lozenges that taste like May’s purse.”

You place a hand on his forehead.

He leans into your touch before he can stop himself— he’s burning up.

“Pete,” you say, softer now, “please don’t make me tie you to the couch. Because I will.”

His eyes flutter half-closed at your touch. 

“You don’t have rope.”

“Not the point.”

He hesitates— wobbles a little, then lets out the world’s most dramatic sigh and finally sinks down onto the couch.

“You shouldn’t have even left your bed in this condition,” you say, digging through your junk drawer for a thermometer.

He groans, muffled through the throw pillow. “I had things to do.”

“You have a fever,” you call back, “I doubt you could be useful in the lab right now, Parker.”

When you return, he’s slumped sideways, eyes half-lidded. You nudge his shoulder and hold up the thermometer.

“Open.”

“Wow, at least buy a man dinner first.”

“Peter.”

He opens his mouth. The thermometer beeps after a few seconds, and you frown at the number that flashes on the screen. 

“39.4°C”

He shrugs weakly. “That’s not that bad.”

“Parker.”

He blinks up at you, sluggish and glassy-eyed, the fever clearly fogging up whatever filter he has left. His gaze drifts, moving from your outfit and lingering somewhere around your face— though it’s hard to tell exactly where he’s looking.

Then, inexplicably, he smiles.

"You look nice today."

You blink, momentarily stunned. Not because of the words themselves— you've heard compliments before, of course— but because of the way he said it. 

Soft. Offhanded, like it had slipped out before he could catch it.

You glanced down at yourself— the version of yourself you had put on all in an attempt to get your boyfriend to notice you. 

And now here was Peter Parker, feverish and flushed and somehow still managing to see you better than Jonah had in weeks.

“Don’t try and change the subject, Peter–” 

“No seriously,” he hummed, already halfway unconscious, blinking up at you like he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. “You always look nice and stuff. Just… extra nice tonight. Fancy.” 

"Mhm," you muttered, heading back into the kitchen under some flimsy excuse to get some medicine to try and hide the flush that climbed its way onto your cheeks, "I had plans. They got canceled."

Peter doesn't say anything, not right away. 

Then: 

"Cake Boy?" 

You snort, "Jonah. Yes." 

Earlier, you hadn't really told Peter about Jonah and how far your relationship had actually progressed. Only the faint mention of some guy who spilled cake down your dress.

It wasn't like you were hiding it or anything. It just felt weird to tell him.

You weren't sure why. 

Maybe because saying it out loud made it feel more real. Maybe because the second you told Peter about Jonah, it would become something that mattered— and you weren’t ready to admit that it did.

Or maybe it was because Peter has always been the person you told everything to. 

The one who stayed up with you on the fire escape at 3 a.m. eating greasy pizza, the one who binged watched cheesy horror movies with you— the one who somehow always knew what you were feeling, even when you couldn’t find the words for it.

So yeah, maybe bringing Jonah into the conversation felt like inviting a stranger into something private.

You rummaged around your cupboards for some Ibuprofen and a mug, more for something to do with your hands than any real purpose.

“We were supposed to catch that new slasher movie tonight,” you said, trying to keep your tone light, like it didn’t bother you. “Third time he’s bailed this week. But you know. Work."

There’s a grumbled noise that comes from the couch that sounds suspiciously like a judgmental hmmph.

You raise your brows as you return to the living room, bottle of water in one hand, two pills in the other. “What was that?”

"Nothin'," Peter says, barely lifting his head.

“Seriously, he works a busy job,” you defend as you sit beside him, handing him the pills, “he works in finance, he’s in line for a promotion, I think.”

“Sure,” he croaks, sniffling into the collar of his hoodie.

You shoot him a look as he takes the pills from your hand, dry-swallowing them without blinking. You hold the water bottle out anyway, but he just shakes his head.

You cross your arms. “Okay. Dude, what’s your problem with him?”

Peter shrugs one shoulder weakly. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like your type.”

You scoff, settling back against the couch. “What is my type, then?”

He opens his mouth, then hesitates. His eyes flick toward you— like he might actually say it. Like he wants to.

You feel it hang in the space between you– another one of those moments that’s all potential and no follow-through.

But instead, he coughs— long, wheezy, miserable.

You hand him a tissue and let it go.

He blows his nose dramatically. “Thanks, Nurse Ratched.”

“I should’ve let you suffer.”

“You kind of are,” he says, voice muffled through the tissue. “You just keep talkin’ about your perfect, rich finance boyfriend while I’m dying.”

“Oh my god,” you mutter, fighting a smile. “You are so dramatic.”

Before you can roll your eyes, he shifts— slowly, like it’s second nature— and lets his head drop into your lap with a quiet, exhausted sigh, cheek pressing against your thigh.

You freeze. Just for a second.

Then your hand hovers awkwardly in the air like it isn’t quite sure what to do with itself. Peter’s curls are tickling your arm. His breath is warm against your leg. 

He’s got the smallest, softest smile on his lips. 

"So, finance guy. Huh?" You can feel him smirk against your thigh.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real bite behind it– there’s never any bite behind it.

Your fingers twitch, finally settling in his hair— gently carding through the curls that are still damp from his earlier fever-sweat.

“Yes, finance guy,” you reply, your voice dry but fond. “He wears loafers and talks about stocks unironically."

Peter lets out a hoarse chuckle. "Sexy."

“Oh, incredibly,” you deadpan, scratching lightly at his scalp. “Every woman’s dream.”

His eyes were barely open now, lids even heavier with your hand carding through his hair. “I’m sorry your plans got canceled,” he mumbled into your thigh, voice rough. “But I’m kinda glad you’re here.”

Your hand stills for a beat in his hair.

It’s subtle, barely a hitch, but Peter notices.

Because, of course, he notices.

He seems to notice everything when it comes to you— every shift in your voice, every change in your routines, every text you type a little too quickly, and every laugh that was a bit too warm.

So when you started dressing a little nicer, started canceling on him last minute, started smiling down at your phone in a way that wasn’t meant for him— he knew.

And he let it happen.

He didn’t ask. Didn’t pry. Didn’t say a word, even when it stung more than he cared to admit. Because he knew he didn’t have the right, you weren’t his— and he knew that.

But here you were. His head in your lap, your hand tangled in his hair, and something about it feels dangerously close to hope.

You gently tap his shoulder, “C’mon, up, Parker. You’ve gotta get up.”

He groans, low and muffled, pressing his face further into your thigh like that might somehow make you take it back. “Five more minutes,” he mutters, voice thick with sleep and congestion.

You bite back a smile, trying— and failing— not to sound as fond as you feel. “Get up, I’ve gotta get you some soup.”

He groans again.

You huff, amused, and your fingers brush over his scalp again before you catch yourself. “Peter…”

He finally looks up, just barely. His eyes are glassy with exhaustion but still achingly soft, locked on yours. “I like it here,” he admits, quieter now. “Don’t make me move yet.”

But, to his disappointment, you gently shove him off. 

He lands back against the cushions with a dramatic oof, flopping onto his side like his bones were made out of jelly.

"Rude," he mumbled, squinting up at you through red eyes. "I bare my soul and you throw me to the wolves."

"You were melting into my thigh," you say, standing and stretching with a small smile. "I need circulation, and you need soup, Peter."

"Who needs sustenance when you’re comfortable?" he counters, eyes fluttering shut again as he dramatically clutches at the throw pillow you hand him like it’s a poor substitute for you. "You’re cruel. Heartless. 0 stars, no bedside manner."

You shake your head, laughing softly as you drape the blanket over him— walking over to the kitchen.

Peter watches you move around the room, your silhouette softened by the dim glow of the kitchen light. 

You’re humming— quietly, absentmindedly— and it makes his chest ache in a way that has nothing to do with the fever. 

He pulls the blanket tighter around himself, coating himself in its warmth. But it's not as warm as your lap, or your fingers in his hair, or the sweet sound of your voice up close and soft just for him.

For a second, you were there, and you let him have it. That intimate and easy quiet, and then it was gone.

Because you’re not his, never was, never will be. 

He needs to start reminding himself of that.

He hears the clink of a spoon, the cupboard shutting, the soft pad of your feet returning— and he plasters on a grin like it doesn't matter at all.

“Any chance my nurse also makes toast?” he rasps, winking.

Because if he keeps it light, maybe it won’t feel so heavy.

You arch a brow, setting down a small bowl beside him on the coffee table. "Your nurse made soup. Homemade, by the way. Well, semi-homemade. I just added some garlic and salt to the canned stuff. But whatever."

Peter grins up at you— it’s lazy, foggy at the edges, but it still carries that boyish charm that seems to emanate from him. "Gourmet."

You flash him a smile. “Don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Peter takes a slow, careful sip of the soup, wincing a little at the temperature but grateful for the warmth.

You settle beside him again, brushing a stray curl from his damp forehead and tucking it behind his ear with a tenderness that catches you both off guard.

“You just focus on getting better,” you say softly, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest. “I’ll handle the rest. Soup, tea, maybe some actual toast if you're good.”

He tries to protest, but his voice is too weak, so he just lets out a tired chuckle. His eyes close briefly, his breathing evening out.

You stay there, watching over him, fussing— let’s be real, when do you not fuss over him?

And slowly, imperceptibly–  he starts to look a little less like the sick, feverish mess from earlier and more like the Peter you know and love. 

And for a moment, you forget about Jonah, him canceling, and the way he made you feel.

And, honestly— for now, that’s enough.

previous chapter !! or next chapter !!

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

Hey I don't normally make asks but I swear there is so little content on your boyfriend. I was wondering if I could request a fluff fic for Peter where him and y/n discuss marriage early on in the relationship. During the conversation y/n asks if he can take their last name, unsure of if Peter would like to or not but Peter is ecstatic to let go of the name that weighed on his life so much. And y/n is like "your cool with it? Aight then let's get married."

A/N: You’re so right I wish I had more YBF content, like just peter and not cross overs, so i’ll try to write more for him in the future! But as always thank you so much for your request!!!

Warnings: None!

Navigation!!

What’s my name?

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting warm amber streaks across the small park where Peter and Y/N sat on a bench near the edge of the woods. The park was a quiet, almost forgotten place—just the way Peter liked it. He always gravitated to the hidden corners of the world, away from prying eyes and the busy rush of others. Y/N had picked up on this early in their relationship and started seeking out secluded spots to spend time together. It wasn’t just a favor for Peter; they found themselves enjoying the peace just as much as he did.

Peter sat close, his hand resting over Y/N’s, his thumb brushing soft circles into their skin. They’d been dating for a few months now, but in those short months, Y/N had come to understand just how much Peter valued these quiet, intimate moments. His love language wasn’t grand gestures or loud proclamations; it was in the small things—the way he looked at them like they were his entire world, the way he never seemed to let go of their hand when they were near.

Y/N broke the silence first, leaning into Peter with a teasing smile. “You know, it’s a little funny,” they started, their voice soft but lighthearted. “We’ve only been dating for a bit, and I already catch myself daydreaming about the future. Like… you know, the big stuff.”

Peter’s head turned sharply, his piercing eyes locking onto theirs. The intensity of his gaze was both thrilling and a little overwhelming, like always. “Big stuff?” he echoed, his tone equal parts curious and eager. “What kind of big stuff?”

Y/N chuckled nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind their ear. “You know… marriage. Family. Stuff like that.”

Peter’s grip on their hand tightened ever so slightly. His gaze softened, but his expression turned thoughtful. Marriage wasn’t a topic he had ever seriously considered before. His past—the weight of it, the way it loomed over him like a dark cloud—had always made him feel unworthy of something as pure and hopeful as a future with someone. But Y/N… Y/N had a way of making the impossible seem within reach.

“Marriage, huh?” he said quietly, more to himself than to Y/N. There was a hint of wonder in his voice, as if the idea was foreign but not unwelcome. “With you?” His lips curved into a soft, almost shy smile. “I… I like the sound of that.”

Y/N felt their heart flutter at his words, their cheeks warming. “Yeah? You’d want to marry me someday?”

Peter turned to face them fully, his other hand coming up to cup their cheek. His touch was gentle, but there was a fervent sincerity in his expression. “Of course I would. I don’t think I could ever want anyone else, Y/N. You… you make me feel like I’m worth something. Like I’m not just… broken.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as they leaned into his touch. “You’re not broken, Peter. You’re human. And you’re so much more than you think you are. I see that, and I hope one day you’ll see it too.”

Peter didn’t respond right away, but the faint glimmer of emotion in his eyes said more than words ever could. After a moment, Y/N pulled back slightly, their smile turning playful in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well, if we’re gonna get married, we have to figure out some important details first,” they said, raising an eyebrow.

“Details?” Peter tilted his head, intrigued.

“Yeah, like… whose last name we’d take,” Y/N said with a small laugh. “I mean, I know traditionally people take the guy’s last name, but… I don’t know, I kind of like the idea of you taking mine. If that’s something you’d even want to do, of course.”

Peter froze. For a moment, Y/N worried they’d said something wrong. But then his expression shifted—his eyes widened, his lips parted slightly, and an almost childlike wonder replaced the usual guardedness in his features.

“You’d… you’d want me to take your last name?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded slowly, watching his reaction carefully. “Yeah. I mean, I wasn’t sure if you’d like the idea or not, but… I thought I’d throw it out there.”

Peter’s hand tightened around theirs, and he shook his head quickly, almost frantically. “No, I— I love the idea. I… I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

Y/N blinked, taken aback by the intensity of his response. “Really? You’re cool with it?”

Peter let out a breathless laugh, his free hand raking through his messy hair. “Y/N, you don’t understand. My name… it’s a reminder of everything I’ve tried to leave behind. Every mistake, every… horrible thing that’s ever happened in my life—it’s all tied to that name. But your name… it’s like a fresh start. A chance to leave all of that behind and build something new. Something better. With you.”

Y/N felt their chest tighten at his words, their eyes stinging with unshed tears. They hadn’t realized just how much weight Peter carried with something as simple as his name. But hearing him talk about it now, it made perfect sense.

“Well then,” they said softly, squeezing his hand. “If you’re that sure about it… let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

Peter’s eyes widened, his breath hitching. “W-What? Like… right now?”

Y/N laughed, the sound light and full of affection. “Not right this second, silly. But soon. Why wait, you know? If we both want it, let’s just go for it.”

Peter stared at them, his heart pounding in his chest. The idea of marrying Y/N—of becoming a permanent part of their life, of building a future with them—was almost too good to be true. But as he looked into their eyes, he realized that for once, he didn’t feel the crushing weight of doubt or fear. All he felt was hope.

“Okay,” he said finally, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married.”

Y/N grinned, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips. “It’s a deal, then.”

Peter smiled against their lips, his hands coming up to frame their face as he kissed them back. In that moment, all of the darkness that had once consumed him seemed to fade away, replaced by the warmth and light that Y/N had brought into his life.

As they pulled away, Peter rested his forehead against theirs, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything. For giving me a chance to be happy.”

Y/N smiled, their fingers threading through his hair. “You don’t have to thank me, Peter. You deserve this. You deserve to be happy.”

And for the first time in a long time, Peter truly believed it.

[thollandsgirl2013]

Hi there Q, I was wondering if its ok if you could write a MCU Peter Parker x fem reader who has a fainting condition? As I have one and I don't see any around. I have one based on this prompt if you want to do it. LOVE YOUR WORK!

Peter had seen you faint enough times to recognize the signs immediately, and today, he noticed you growing paler with each passing minute. He stepped closer, his voice gentle yet filled with concern, “Y/N, please sit down.” But before he could reach you, your knees buckled, and you collapsed into his arms. “Not again,” he muttered under his breath, carefully lowering you to the couch as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. "I know you can't help it, but it still scares me every time," Peter confessed quietly, his fingers lingering on your hand as he watched over you, waiting for you to wake.

Thank you so much for requesting. I hope this fic brings you comfort and joy. Sending you lots of love! ♡

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𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

Parings → Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings → Fainting, lightheadedness, mild angst, comfort, fluff, worried! Peter, protective! Peter.

Summary → Peter catches you when you faint, comforting you despite his worries. He hates seeing you like this but always stays by your side.      

(gif not mine)

Peter had seen you faint enough times to recognize the signs immediately.

At first, it used to send him into a full-blown panic, his heart racing faster than it did during patrols. But over time, he had learned your tells—how your breathing would get uneven, how your skin would lose color, how you’d start swaying just the tiniest bit as if gravity had a stronger hold on you than anyone else.

And today? Today was one of those days.

Peter was perched on a kitchen stool, tapping away at his laptop while you moved around the kitchen, making lunch. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clatter of utensils filled the air, a peaceful kind of background noise.

His focus was mostly on his assignment—until his enhanced hearing picked up something else.

Your heartbeat.

It wasn’t right. The rhythm stuttered, then picked up too fast before slowing again. His brows furrowed, and he looked up just in time to see you swaying slightly, your movements sluggish.

His stomach twisted.

“Babe,” he called, his voice gentle but urgent. “Please sit down.”

You turned toward him, blinking like you were trying to clear the fog in your mind, but before you could take a step, your knees buckled.

Peter moved instantly.

One second, you were standing, and the next, you were falling—but his arms were there before you even hit the ground.

“Not again,” he muttered under his breath, adjusting his grip as he carefully scooped you up. His heart was racing—probably faster than yours at this point—but he forced himself to stay calm. Panicking wouldn’t help.

He carried you to the couch and gently lowered you down, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I know you can't help it," Peter murmured, his voice soft but thick with concern, "but it still scares me every time."

His fingers lingered on yours, thumb rubbing slow, absentminded circles over your skin as he watched over you, waiting for you to wake up.

He hated this. Hated how helpless he felt in moments like these. He could fight villains, swing through the city, lift cars if he had to—but he couldn’t stop this from happening to you.

Minutes passed, and finally, a small groan left your lips. Your eyelids fluttered open, and the first thing you saw was Peter’s worried face hovering over you.

“There you are,” he exhaled, relief washing over his features.

You blinked a few times, gathering your bearings before offering a small, sheepish smile. “Hey.”

Peter huffed. “You really love scaring me, huh?”

You sighed, shifting slightly to sit up. “It’s fine, Pete. You know this happens.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he grumbled, still not letting go of your hand.

You chuckled weakly. “You know it’s normal for me. I’ll be fine.”

“Normal?” Peter shot you an incredulous look. “Yeah, totally normal to just drop like a fainting goat at any given moment.”

You rolled your eyes. “Nice comparison.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, voice laced with exasperation. “One of these days, I’m gonna start carrying around a mattress just in case. Or, better yet—bubble wrap. Yeah, I’ll wrap you up like a burrito so when you fall, you’ll just bounce.”

You snorted. “That’s dramatic, even for you.”

Peter crossed his arms, unimpressed. “Oh, I’m dramatic? Who’s the one constantly passing out like an old-timey damsel in distress?”

You smirked. “Are you gonna start calling me princess now?”

Peter groaned, tilting his head back. “My god.”

Despite his complaints, he still held onto your hand, rubbing slow circles against your palm with his thumb. The worried crease in his forehead hadn’t disappeared, and his knee bounced slightly—a telltale sign that he was still stressed.

Softening, you squeezed his fingers. “Peter, I really am okay. It happens all the time. You don’t have to worry so much.”

Peter’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, well, I do. Can’t help it. I hate seeing you like this.”

Your heart softened.

“I know,” you murmured, squeezing his hand again. “But I promise I’m okay.”

Peter didn’t look convinced. He hesitated, then leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Just… humor me, okay? At least sit down if you start feeling weird.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yes, sir.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Unbelievable.”

You laughed, tugging him down so he was lying beside you on the couch, his arms still around you. He sighed but didn’t resist, holding you a little tighter, like he needed the reassurance that you were still here.

And for now, that was enough.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 💋 [ Kissy Face ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Starstruck, his chocolate brown eyes stare up into yours as he waits for you to lean in again.

Pairing : Remus Lupin x fem! Reader

Word count : 1.2K Words

Genre : Fluff, James and Sirius are maniacs

a/n : I'm tired af so this is probably not my best work, also my first time writing for the marauders need to get used to write them.. https://www.instagram.com/reel/DD6zz_OIQ1T/?igsh=dWE1MTFsMGlyYXZt saw this Reel on Insta and can't tell me this aint Remus Lupin, so I had to take a short break from my Telemachus fic to write this!

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"He's down bad, Prongs; just look at that lovesick stare he bloody sports." Sirius groans as the two friends watch their best friend, sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, hopelessly staring at you, who is in a deep conversation with Lily. "You think we should help him? Look how lost he looks, a wonder she didn't notice yet." James laughs, Peter looking at them confused from his spot beside Remus, before turning back to listen to Lily and you. "I mean, a little push won't be too bad, right? Like, help him move in the correct direction." Sirius smirks as he throws a knowing glance to James, before stalking over to their friend, plopping down on the couch on each side of Remus.

"You know, openly staring at her like that makes it pretty obvious." James shoves Remus slightly, making the boy finally cut his staring to look confused at his friends. He wasn't staring, was he? He simply listened to your and Lily's conversation. "Listen, mate, it's so freaking obvious to everyone but her; you stare at her like a lovesick puppy." Sirius throws his arm around his friend's neck, pulling him closer to himself, the boy scoring a bright blush now.

"Are you guys teasing Remus again? Leave him alone seriously!" Lily's voice breaks the hushed chat, all three boys looking over to the two girls now; your own eyes meet Remus's eyes, which quickly avert to the side, blush darkening even more. "We're not teasing him! Just helping him!" James protests to his crush, folding his arms in front of his chest now. "Yeah, we just want the best for him, anyways how about a round of truth or dare? Hm?" Remus's eyes widened, and shaking his head violently, he knew they were planning something. Those two would never do something to hurt him, but would definitely go miles saying it was purely done out of love for him. "Bet! Ladies first so.. Y/N, truth or dare?" Lily smiles over at you, confused as to why she decided to choose you immediately at the start. "Truth." Getting some 'boos' and 'boring' from James and Sirius, rolling your eyes. "Do you like someone?" She smirks, and by now, you truly think she is insane, a blush slowly creeping up your neck before you shyly nod. Remus stills at that, you had someone you liked? His heart was slightly breaking, feeling defeated without even trying to fight.

"Okay so.. James, truth or dare?" His eyes meet yours before he smirks, bravely muttering dare. "I dare you to kiss anyone in this room." Smiling, what Lily could do, you could too. Shoving her slightly in his direction, knowing exactly he was going to choose her. And just as you assumed, a soft kiss was pressed to the redhead's cheek. Before she scrambles back to her place beside you, glaring at you.

"Anyways.." James clears his throat before continuing, his eyes moving over to his friend beside him. "Remus, truth or dare?" Of course, he would choose him; the plan needed to move forward. "Dare.." He mutters quietly, catching both James and Sirius by surprise; he would never choose to dare; they basically had to pressure him every time to not only choose truth. "I dare you to get kisses by someone in this room.. with lipstick." Remus raises his head as James looks over to the girls. "Any of you got red lipstick?" Thinking for a second, you pull one out from your school bag, one of the other girls gifted it to you for Christmas. "Great, put it on, doll." James tells you.

"What? Me?" You look confused at him, why did he choose who it should be? Remus should choose, but before you could say anything, Lily applied the Lipstick to your lips and pushed you in the direction of the couch. This was definitely revenge for the shove you gave her not so long before. Approaching the boy, you lean up on your knees, still not reaching Remus's full height, but definitely able to press a kiss somewhere on his face. "This okay?" You ask softly, not noticing the little sparkle in the boy's eyes as he nods.

Hands reach up to softly hold his cheeks as you pull him down a little further, before your warm lips connect with his chill skin to the side of his chin, before pulling away, giggling at the bright red mark on his face now. Eyes moving to look at his, gulping softly at the way his eyes look at you. Start struck like you hung the stars in the starry night sky, overflowing with love.

"Geez, he's gone, I wouldn't have thought a simple peck would lead to that.." Sirius mutters but you pay him no mind as you stand up on your feet, Remus eyes following you, before you softly grab his hand to pull him along and up to the dorms. "That went better than I thought.." James grins triumphant, stretching his arms along the backrest.

Opening the door to the boy's room, you pull Remus in, giggling softly at the loving look he scored. It was adorable. A simple kiss and he was putty in your little hands. Pulling him along to his bed you make him sit down against the headboard before settling down beside him. "Do you want another one?" A slow nod is all you get as Remus stares at you. "You're adorable oh my god.." You giggle as your hands softly hold his face again, starting to plant little kisses everywhere. His cheek, his forehead, his chin, his nose.. all while he just stares at you lovestruck, his hands softly bunching the fabric of your shirt at your waist into his fists.

"Kinda glad those two idiots planned this, dunno how much longer I could've held off from kissing your cute face." Planting a brief kiss on his lips now, you think his brain is fully mushy now, his eyes barely wider as a small smile makes its way onto his lips as if he just realized what is happening to him. "You're okay, right? You haven't talked since down there." Thumb rubbing over his cheek, over one of the kiss marks, and to one of the scars on his face, those you took extra care to kiss as many times as you could. "I.. I'm fine.. I.. Thank you.." His words were mumbles, barely audible as his puppy eyes stared into yours. Giggling, you lean in again to plant your lips against his; this time, he closes his eyes, reciprocating the kiss.

"I think we have a lot to talk about tomorrow, but let's stay like this a while longer." He agrees with you quickly, enjoying some more of your soft touches and warm kisses. Embarrassing it got when the other boys barged into the room, making Remus groan in frustration, hiding his face in your shoulder as he hugged you closer to him. "Damn Moony! Look at you, like a lovesick puppy; really got yourself a keeper, huh Y/N?" Sirius calls over to you, making you roll your eyes. "Get lost." Flicking him off, they leave the two of you alone in the room again.

"They're gone now.." Fingers softly playing with his chocolate brown locks lovingly, smiling as he keeps hiding. You would definitely get back at all three of them for this.

[kadentherabbit]

AAA I REALLY LOVE THE WAY YOU WROTE ABT PETER- could we get a fic where he’s being clingy with the reader (you can make it a smut if you want- whatever ur heart tells ya)- he’s just too cute I love him, pls and thank you🫶

Stuffed like a Twinkie.

This fic includes: unprotected sex, Peter being clingy, creampies, oral m receiving, sub!Peter, dom!reader, gn!reader, soft sex, teasing, it’s kinda long I’m sorry.

A/N: I’m so sorry if this didn’t have enough clingy Peter, I was so tired writing this.

Divider by @/hunniebunniestudios

Peter's chin laid on your lower stomach, arms gently wrapped around your thighs as he watched you flip through the book you were holding, his pout grew more by the second as he wondered how you were actually spending time reading instead of giving him affection….!

“Babe….”

Peter spoke up, fingers moving up your thighs and starting to trace shapes against your skin. His eyes moved up to meet with yours but instead met with the cover of the book instead. You also didn’t respond, prompting a huger pout to coat onto the speedsters lips.

“Baby,”

This time, you had paid attention, he watched as your eyes peaked over the book and down to him. A smile slightly breaking onto the boy’s face before you gave him an actual response.

“Yes, Peter?”

“Are you actually reading instead of giving me attention?”

You could hear the pout on his face despite looking back down to the words in front of you, Peter didn’t like how you immediately went back to reading instead of giving him the well deserved attention he needed. His hands wrapped around the fat of your thigh and started shaking it until you decided to look back down to him, a whine slipping past his lips when you did.

Instead of responding, you let out a quick sigh, slipping the bookmark in between the two pages then shutting the book. Gently placing it onto the nearby coffee table, and giving Peter your full attention.

“I told you I wanted to finish this chapter, I’ve been pushing it off for like….a month,”

Peter’s eyes lingered on your face, trying to decide if you were mad at him. Hands going back to tracing shapes on your thigh without much thought.

“Yeah I know….but like…I didn’t know you were gonna stick to it, thought you were just gonna get bored and cuddle with me,”

His tone was whiny, and it would’ve been annoying if you weren’t used to this kinda of attitude from him. You rolled your eyes and sat up from your laying position on the couch, prompting Peter to also sit up. This time, he frowned instead of pouting, I guess that was a change.

“Mm…yeah of course you did sweetheart,”

You moved around quickly, pulling your head to face Peter instead of your feet. Slowly crawling towards his position on the couch, watching as his face flushed the darkest shade of red and his pants became scarily tight.

Hands gently rubbing over his bulge while he stared down at you and the growing tent in his jeans. It only got worse when your face inched closer and closer.

“Fuck….”

Peter whimpered, it sounded like music to your ears. You hadn’t even taken his boxers off and he was already whimpering like a kicked puppy.

He couldn’t wait much longer, his own hands going to wave yours away so he could unbutton his jeans and shove them down to the floor. A small giggle coming from your lips before you shoved his hands away and started to teasingly pull down his boxers.

His hips jolted up when your fingers traced along the outline of his tip, another breathy moan slipping past his chapped lips.

“Fuck….please, I’m sorry ‘Kay?”

He bargained softly, giving you puppy dog eyes before his lip jolted out to try and convince you to just stop teasing him and yes, it worked.

His boxers hit the floor after his begging, landing on-top of the mountain his jeans had made. Peter wasn’t expecting your mouth to latch on to his dick just as fast as you had shoved his boxers down, leaving him breathless and melting under your touch.

Your lips moved fast, tongue kitten licking the tip for a few seconds before you started bobbing your head then moving it up and down around his length. You already knew you weren’t gonna let him cum, you were gonna push him to the edge then pull away.

“God…you…your lips feel so- so so so fucking good around me….”

The silver haired boy gasped out, his hand gently going to rest in your hair, playing with the tips of it to try and distract himself from his upcoming orgasm.

Peters grip started to grow tighter, his hips jolting up further, notifying you that he was on the brink of cumming. You pulled away after that, dragging your tongue along the side in a teasing manner before wiping the spit from your chin.

“What?! You can’t do that to a man!”

He argued, more shocked than anything at the fact that you just pulled away and didn’t let him cum at all.

“Patience, Baby, just be a good boy, okay?”

Your voice came out soft and teasing, only further pushing Peter to the edge (of cumming and losing his mind). You quickly made work of your pants and underwear, throwing them onto the floor with Peter’s long forgotten clothes.

Peter held his breath as you sunk down onto him, his head leaning back and hitting the wooden part of the couch, he didn’t care much when you were wrapped around him and making his heart pump at a quick pace.

The two of you just sat there in silence for a few seconds, adjusting to each other before silently agreeing that it was okay for you to move. You and Peter both knew he wasn’t gonna last long, so you started with slow movements, hips moving back and forth while his hands went to hold onto your waist gently. Face slowly burrowing into the crook your neck so he could start peppering kisses along it.

Your sweat kissed skin started to press against Peter’s as you sped up your movements and he continued dragging kisses down your shoulder, once he was satisfied with the amount, he pulled away so he could admire your beauty.

“You’re so fucking pretty….i don’t think I’m gonna last much longer,”

He chuckled out softly, watching as you let out a nod instead of verbally telling him you were close as well. His pants began to speed up with your movements, watching as you bounced ontop of his cock. He couldn’t handle it anymore, his hands grasping tighter against your waist and holding you down as he released inside of you. Waiting a second as he watched your orgasm take over your body for a second.

The two of you immediately fell against the couch, pressed against Peter’s chest and listening to him pant for a solid three seconds before he took a breath and pulled out of you, Trying to be slow and sweet as not to overstimulate either of you. Letting silence over take the both of you before Peter spoke.

“Do you want a Twinkie? I definitely want a Twinkie,”