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lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 1 year

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Can you make a story where dark Peter uses a vibrator on the fem!reader till she squirts and shakes and fucks her till she's cock dumb

yaaa ya ya

THE TEASE- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Darkish! Peter x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 750

Warnings: SMUT, squirting, over stimulation, use of vibrator on reader, biting, degradation kink, darkish stalker content, choking, pet names, peter finishing inside causes he has a breeding kink

“This is your fault.” he whispered, hand tightening around your neck the vibrator buzzed against your swollen bud.

A gasp torn between a moan escaped your lips as his hot breath tickled the shell of your ear, before he gave it a little bite.

“You just had to be such a little tease, with that slutty little skirt of yours.” he growled gaze slipping down to where he held the toy, watching as your ankles dug into the sheets as you attempted to get away from the overwhelming sensations.

It was getting harder and harder to think, and you could barely focus on his words as he coaxed them in your ear.

“I was watching you today, you know. But you didn't see me- did you? No, no too focused on that little lecture hm?” he pressed, rubbing the vibrator in little circular sensations against your clit as you moaned and panted.

It was a mix between pleasure and pain- what he was giving you, and the lines seemed to be blurring over one another the longer you felt your body uncontrollably shake.

“Peter I’m sorry-” you gasped, clawing at his hand down by your cunt, but it wouldn't budge. Peter had you pinned down and spread open- just the way he wanted you.

Vulnerable and alone, for him. He deserved you. You just weren't focused enough on him to notice that.

“You are eh? Cute.”

“I am!” you protested, the whiney tone in your voice rewarded with his hand tightening around your airway. He knew just how to choke you properly, just squeezing the sides of your neck gently.

He had done his research after all, he didn’t want you passing out on him yet. He had so much to tell you.

Still, whether it was from the pressure of the stimulation, your vision began to go fuzzy around the edges. He tsked, shaking his head mockingly as he heard your breaths quicken, knowing you were getting close.

“Listen to how wet you are angel. Your cunnie gettin all messy sweets?” Peter asked gently, making your squeeze your eyes shut, as if you were bracing yourself for what was coming.

His smile turned evil, mocking, and you hated him for it. You hated how well he knew your body and how to tease you, making the rubber band in your core snap past its breaking point.

Every single time he pushed you, and every single time you broke harder than before.

“No, no please.” you begged, yet your words were useless. With a little twist of his wrist, the toy hit just the right spot, the eye contact he gave you the final push to send you over the edge.

You screamed, begging him as the orgasm washed over you. “Shh, shh just let it happen, princess. You need to stop fighting it.” he cooed, hand releasing from your neck to stroke your cheek, a stray tear lingering on the heated skin.

Wetness squirted from you, spraying over the sheets and Peter's hand as you mindlessly babbled to him, your words slurring together as your legs shook harder.

“Atta girl. Attaa girl.” he smiled, removing the toy from its place, setting it down before he pressed a hand down on your lower abdomen to steady you.

“Peter I can't– anymore-” you panted, words coming out between gasps as you attempted to catch your breath.

“You don't have to, but m’gonna use you for a bit okay? Just rest, let me use your princess parts.” he whispered, positioning himself despite your sleepy protests, hands coming up to claw around his biceps.

“Sensitive.” you moaned, body jerking as he wasting no time slipping inside of you, stretching you out around him as he threw his head back and moaned in pleasure- ignoring you.

“You're getting what you deserve. You're supposed to be used angel. But only from me.” he smiled sweetly, grip tightening on your thighs as he spread your legs further apart, watching as your own hands slipped down to palm your tits.

“You like this, don’t you, angel? Just a lil dumb baby, can't think for herself eh?” You nodded, moaning as he sank deeper, brushing up against your g-spot.

“Just not- not inside mkay?” you requested softly, head falling slack against the sheets as sleep spread through your bones. “Whatever you say angel.” he smirked smugly, knowing your request go un funfilled.

Oh well, he thought, beginning to piston into you for his own pleasure. Oh well.

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xtom-darling-x17 · 2 years

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You and Tom or Peter have sex but he didn’t know you was a virgin until you bled and he felt bad not knowing as he would’ve been more carful. Lots of after care after.

Anything For My Princess

Pairing - Peter Parker x Reader

Summary - You are a virgin, while Peter has more experience. You are embarrassed about it, therefore you have sex with Peter without telling him that You are a virgin!

Warnings - Smut 18+ (Loss of virginity, bleeding, Praise kink, Protected sex)

A/N - Thank you for requesting, hope you enjoy! Much appreciation to the love and support 🥰

P.S requests are currently closed at the moment, if you send one in. Please note that it will probably not get done for a long time. I am writing all my requests up at the moment, that I have now.

“Get on the bed baby,” Peter squeezed your thigh as you whimper, you go on the plushie bed.

“Let me have a taste of that pussy, Darling,” Peter smirked as he tugged your skirt up, “Your not wearing any panties, Mm such a naughty girl! Baby,”

“Peter,” You moaned as his tongue hit your clit, up and down flicking its way down your pussy.

Peter suckles on the sensitive nerves, having your hips jolt up, he pushes your hips down.

“Be a good girl for me, baby,” Peter slipped a finger into you, “That’s it, baby! Such a good girl,” As he puts another finger into you.

“God, so fucking tight!” Peter grunted as he finger fucks your walls, you didn’t let out a key detail that you are indeed a virgin.

“Mm, feel so good! Peter, please Fuck me!” Wanting it over with, you really wanted to feel his cock into your pussy.

“Be patient, I’m going to make you cream all over my tongue and fingers,” Peter hushed you as he put his tongue on your clit again.

Going deep down your region, “Peter, more! Fuck, I’m going to cum! Pls make me cum,” You screamed as you came.

Peter moaned into your pussy, riding out your high as he puts a condom on!

“Such a good girl, for me. Aren’t you? Princess,” Peter whispers into your ear as he makes you sit down on his lap.

“Awe, does the baby want my cock?” Peter smirks, you nod, “Yes please, please fuck me!” You feel your core getting more wet as Peter teased your entrance.

Peter moves you on your back, so he can get a better position into fucking you. He can feel your pussy creaming up around him.

“Going to fuck you good and hard, Darling!” Peter promised, you was way too into it before you could tell him your a virgin.

Peter pushes his large, cock into your little hole, “Awe, do you like that?” Peter kisses you as you moan. He does let you adjust to his cock for a few seconds.

“Yes, I love it Peter,” You moan into the kiss, Peter slams his hips into yours as you roll your eyes back.

“Mm, So fucking Good!” You whimper out, Peter took that as a sign that he isn’t hurting you.

He opens your legs a bit more, holding you securely as he slides his large, Harding cock in and out of your tight, slit.

“Taking my cock, so we’ll! Baby, such a good girl,” Peter grunted, pushing deeper and harder into your pretty, little tight core.

He takes one hand and massages your boob for comfort as he fucks you into the bed.

“Yes, Mm love your cock, Petey!” You moaned out, barely getting any words out!

“You close baby?” Peter sees the signs as your close, your pussy clutching around him more and your cute face all scrunched up.

“Mm, Peter,” You nodded, “I’m gonna,” You moaned, “I’m gonna cum,”

“Cum for me, Princess!” Peter rubbed your tummy and boob as he fucks you through your high.

When he feels you cum, it sends his cock to release his own high too.

“You good? Baby,” Peter asked, kissing you on your pretty, lips, “Yh,” You smiled.

Peter pulled out, but as he was doing that. He gasped, “We’re you a virgin, Darling?” asking softly, as he looks really guilty.

Peter sees blood over his sheets, where you lay.

You nod as you let a few tears slip out, “I’m sorry,”

“No, no Darling! It’s ok, your ok, You should of told me, I’m so sorry! I didn’t even release,” Peter explained, holding you into his arms.

“I was going to but I got scared,” You whispered, “As your so experienced and I’m not, I guess it was embarrassing to mention,”

“Baby, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you felt like that.. I would of gone much more careful and gentle with you,” Peter kisses the top of your forehead, wiping the tears away from your eyes, “You lay there and I’ll sort everything out, ok?”

“Ok,” You whimper, nodding.

Peter got up to change into a new pair of clothes, to get you some clothes and even brand new bed covers.

“Sh, Sh, Darling! It’s ok,” Peter got an idea, “Do you want me to run you a nice, hot bath?” He suggests as your still naked.

“That would be nice,” You nodded.

Peter went into the bathroom to quickly pour you a bath with bubbles and your favourite scent. Feeling bad about not knowing that you was a virgin!

“The bath is ready, can I pick you up?” Peter asks, “yep, Petey,” You giggle as he lifts you up.

Placing you into the bath, Peter smiles.

“You coming in?” You pout..

“I will if you want me to, Darling,” he states.

You tug his hand into the bath suggesting to come in or else.

“Ok, ok,” Peter chuckles, undressing himself as he slips in behind you.

You sigh into relieve as you lean against Peter’s warm, toned, chest.

“Your really, comfortable,” You giggle, “Do you want me to wash you, Baby?” He asked as he peppers kisses all along your shoulders and collarbone.

“Yh, that would be heavenly,” You mumble, closing your eyes and taking into Peter’s embrace around your waist.

“Anything for my princess!” Peter whispers, Kissing your cheek as he starts work on your back with your sponge and (fave) soap.

“Mm, That tickles! Petey,” You giggle, forgetting all about the pain down there.

“My bad,” Peter chuckles, “It’s fun to tickle you, my love,” he has a cheeky, grin on him.

“I don’t know what, your grinning about,” You shook your head, you can feel his smile against your wet skin.

“You look so beautiful,” Peter mumbles, leading yet another trail of kisses along your skin.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Parker!” You winked, teasing him.

“Let me, wash your hair,” Peter grabbed the shampoo, scrubbing it against into your scalp as you hummed contently.

“Feels relaxing,” You mumble, smiling, “I would hope so!” Peter smiles.

Soon after, he rinsed it off and put conditioner on, “Hey, please don’t ever feel like you can’t say anything to me again! Because honestly, you can and I’m so sorry that you thought couldn’t tell me that you was a virgin,” Peter rambled on.

“Peter, it’s ok! Your looking after me aren’t you?” You lean into him more as he rinses the conditioner off your head, “Yh because I love you so much, Darling,” Peter blushed saying those words.

“Your so sweet, Peter Parker!” You turn around to kiss him right on his lips, passionately, “And I love you so much too, Petey,” You say in between kisses.

After you bath, Peter got out first to wrap a towel around you and empty the bath.

He gave you his clothes to wear seeing that you love them because they are so comfortable.

Then he changes his bed covers, putting them in the wash.

“Here, Baby,” Peter smiles, giving you painkillers to ease the pain between your legs, “Thanks,”

He got in bed with you, you snuggle into him as he covers you both up.

“Your so warm and cozy,” you sigh into his embrace.

“You too, Princess,” Peter kisses your forehead, he turns on the tv for you to watch Netflix.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fandom #tomhollandfan #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker fandom #peter parker fluff #tom peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker

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bubblessunshinehoney · 1 year

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Date Night (peter parker)

1018 words

A/N: imagine a date night in Central Park with Peter. Him being fluffy and romantic, loving to spend time with you. There's mention of Tony stark so it's mcu Peter Parker, but could work for the 3 of them.

Enjoy, cloudy !

Don't be shy, reblog, comment and like !

TW: fluffy oh so fluffy and little innuendos of sex

Date night, I love them. And with Peter it’s almost a miracle when we can have one without being interrupted by some superhero’s duty. Well, most of the time we must cancel it, but today is the day! Tony assured me that if something had to happen, we were not going to be called. And I was almost ready to sign a contract to prove it.

It’s the end of summer. The air is still nice, but when the sun goes down it starts to get chilly. I am wearing my favourite dress. The one that make me feel like the sexiest badass bitch alive. But none of my sweats or jacket are nice with it. So not to be bold, I just didn’t bring any with me… I secretly want to steal one of Peter sweatshirt.

“Hey Y/N”, calls Peter. I turn around and he jogs to me. He’s hair are curled, and his smile give me butterflies. “Hey Pete”, I say. He kisses my cheek and takes my hand. “You ready for our date night?” he asks shily. We’re dating for like six months, but he always gets shy when we start our dates. I nod and bring him close to me to kiss his lips. I feel him smile against mine and we get to the restaurant.

See, dating Peter has been easy. We get along and I love to hear him talk about science stuff even if sometimes I am lost. He got these little sparkling eyes when is passionate and it is truly the cutest thing on earth. His all being is the cutest thing on earth. “What are you looking at? Have I something in between my teeth?”, I laugh, and he blushes, “No Peter, I was just thinking that my boyfriend is cute when he’s passionate.” With wide eyes, Peter looks at me and drink some of his wine to hide that he’s a little bit flustered. “Well, my girlfriend is the most beautiful of all.” He says back.

Yeah, I doubted that for a while. When I started college, everyone was talking about the cute scientist. And never in a million years I thought that he’ll fall for me. But here we are in a fancy restaurant on a Saturday night.

“You know, I never thought you’ll go out with me” confesses Peter. It’s my turn to look at him with wide eyes. “Well, me too…”. He frowns his brows before asking me “so you think that I, Peter Benjamin Parker was out of your league?”, I drink some of my wine and then I say the truth “yes, you know all girls have a crush on you, you’re the cute scientist with puppy eyes and a smile brighter than the sun.”

“cheesy” he mutters. “I mean it Peter, you’re so oblivious of that, but Gwen wanted to ask you out and even this girl… Mantis”. “Gwen and Mantis?” he almost chokes on his chicken and I just nod. “whooo, ok.” He continues to eat, but I see the wheels turning in his brain. “Well, to bad for them, you’re the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Never in a million years I thought you’ll fall for me”. I take his hand before saying “but here we are”, “yeah here we are” murmurs Peter.

I didn’t say the L-word yet. Peter has. Like three weeks ago, but I just kissed him with all my heart, and he told me that he wasn’t expecting me to say it back. I do love him; I am just incapable to say it out loud. For now.

The evening is wonderful. Peter is endearing and for once since we start to date… no superhero’s duty. I must not forget to thank Tony Stark.

We are walking in central park. “Did you bring a jacket with you?” asks Peter. “Nope. But I am ok”. He narrows his at me, and I just smile. Maybe I am getting cold, but I won’t say anything. “You should have” he says under his breath. I kiss him and he holds me close. His warmth gets me chill, but it is worth it. Maybe I will be in his arm for the rest of the night… hopefully I am horny after all.

After our walk, we decide to go to my appartement. My roommates are out of town for the weekend. When we enter my home, I shudder, and I glance at Peter.

"It's so cold. I think you'll have to warm me up." I said huskily.

"I told you to bring a jacket!"

This man, this man is so oblivious. Since the beginning of the date, I send him hints. Many hints. From the little glance, the little touches here and there. Some kisses under his jaw, my arms around his torso, waist and EVEN my hand in his back pocket.

“Really Parker?” I see in his eyes that he’s searching why I am calling him by his last name. I never do that, well only when I am annoyed at him. “What, I told you this morning to bring a jacket because I know you get cold easily.” Ok, my boyfriend is cute and careful. He starts to take his hoody off and I can’t stop myself to giggle. “What now?”, “Well, my Pete… I hope you’ll continue to strip for me, because I am not ready to put that hoodie on for now.”,

“you’re not cold?” he asks innocently.

Oblivious, I said? Terrible at innuendos my friends.

“Peter… I want You to warm me up.” He puts his hoodie on the sofa and then eureka, he gets the hint. “Oh, you mean that warm up?”, “yeah I want to have sex, Peter”. He’s red as a tomato, and rock back and forth on his feet. I nod and wait for him to make a move. After a few minutes (maybe seconds, but still too long) he takes a step forward and put his hands on my hips. “Sorry for being such a nerd even with that.”, “what can I say, that’s why I love you.”

#peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fandom #mcu peter parker #college!peter parker #tom holland fandom #peter parker fluff #peter parker date #peter parker x female reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #rooting fluff #date night

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upindreamland · 1 year

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I'll forever love you... - Peter Parker

Peter Parker x fem!reader (she/her pronouns) text imagine

Summary: Loving someone comes with sacrifices. Who would have thought that sacrifice would be ending your relationship... (angst)

Warnings: Mention of cheating (but gets kind of better at the end). Let me know if I missed anything.

AN: Wow... well I wrote this when I was going through a similar situation so this hits close to home. I hope you enjoy!

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AN: Well that's it. I hope you enjoyed reading. As always let me know what you thought. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated. Thanks!

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iridescentparkers · 1 year

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hi!

i know it’s been a while but i missed this page and pretty soon I will update you on what’s to come!

thank you to those who still support my work!

cj <3

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mysteriouslover1516 · 1 year

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Not in the Cards

After the events of No Way Home, Peter 2 returns back to his own universe, meditating on what Peter 1 told him. (And yes, No Way Home brought back my obsession for Andrew Garfield)

“I lost...I lost Gwen.”

Peter Parker sat at the top of the Empire State Building, mask in his hand, the cool night air whipping through brown hair. It had been over a month since the phenomenon of the multiverse was unraveled. Everyone had returned to their own separate universe and timeline, something which he still found hard to wrap his mind around. New York was exactly how he had left it; Dr. Connors still in prison and Max declared dead. That’s where it got confusing though, didn’t they cure everyone before they returned to their timeline? Did that mean other variants of these people were still alive somehow? After all, if the multiverse was possible, then anything was.

“Gwen, she…she was my MJ.”

It had been seven years since Gwen Stacy’s death, but every minute detail was destined to be forever embedded in Peter’s mind. The sound of the web snapping rang in his ears, the glistening tears in her eyes a constant reminder of how much trust she had placed in him, the sickening thud of her head hitting the concrete; all these things were a constant reminder of how he had failed to protect her. He had promised her father he’d stay away from Gwen in order to keep her safe, but in his own selfishness he had broken his last dying wish, ultimately killing the captain’s daughter as well.

“I couldn't save her. I'm never gonna be able to forgive myself for that.”

Many nights he spent reliving the nightmare in his head, watching it as if in slow-motion. The web grabbing her waist, the short feeling of relief rushing over him, then the gut-wrenching sound of her neck and spine undoubtedly snapping, her head soon hitting the ground. It wasn’t the head trauma that had killed Gwen, it was him. He had killed her, snapped her neck, rendering her dead before she even touched the ground. It was his fault she had died.

“But I carried on. Tried to...tried to keep going. Tried to keep being the...... friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, because I know that's what she would have wanted.”

Peter hadn’t expected for it to end this way, in his head he was still imagining him and Gwen living a happily ever after together. How could he bring himself to save others when he couldn’t even save the love of his life? It was another one of life’s cruel jokes, as if Fate himself was mocking him.

“But...at some point, I just...I stopped pulling my punches. I got rageful. I got bitter.”

After a while he found it harder to show mercy, his self-control snapping more and more often. It was easy to punish those in the wrong, to give them what they deserved, it felt good to strip the life from their very bones. For a time he had simply gone crazy, blood lust going to his head, he grew ruthless, wanting the guilty to suffer.

“I just don't want you, to end up like...like me.”

It grew almost impossible to reign in his emotions, to see through the red lenses that had become his vision. The children on the streets who always cheered for him started to grow afraid, not knowing if Spiderman was actually protecting them. He had become a monster, the citizens no longer felt safe in New York. The realization of what he had become suddenly shocked him into reality. It had been hard to get his life together, to reign in his emotions, but he had succeeded, triumphed.

“You have someone?”

“No. I got no time for Peter Parker stuff. You know?”

Deep down he knew that wasn’t the actual truth, he had plenty of time being a twenty-four-yr-old photographer. The actual truth was that the thought of falling in love and losing someone again scared the absolute crap out of him. He didn’t think he could handle the reality of having his heart ripped out once more.

“I guess it's just not in the cards for guys like us.”

Heroes never got the girl, and even if they did, it rarely worked out or lasted. Whether it was a breakup or death, hearts still shattered and there was no way to numb the pain.

“Well…I wouldn't give up. Took a while, but...we made it work.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He knew the older and wiser version of himself meant it to be encouraging, but somehow all it managed to do was dishearten him. The older and wiser Peter had been successful in his relationship, he and his MJ, Gwen, had made it work.

He watched as MJ fell from the Statue of Liberty, the wind whipping through her hair, the panic in her eyes evident, but no sound came out. He faintly registered himself saying No as he lept after her, Not Again.

In that moment he had redeemed himself, he was able to spare his younger version the pain that came from losing a soulmate.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?”

Peter had been too speechless to answer, too overcome with emotion to form words, all he could do was nod his head, desperately trying to hold back his tears. He had saved MJ the way he should have saved Gwen. He had learned from his past mistake, he had caught her in his arms. Was this what redemption felt like?

Maybe it’s time to date again, to look for someone new. It had been seven years since Gwen’s death, she would have wanted him to move on, right?

That thought still stabbed him in the gut, chest heaving with pain at the very idea. It felt like betraying her, letting her die all over again. If she couldn’t be with him physically, the least he could do was preserve the memory of her in his heart, right? He shook his head, Gwen wouldn’t have agreed with that, she would have wanted him to go on with his life. She’d want him to be happy. He owed it to her to oblige her wishes, he needed to move on, he was GOING to move on. Peter sighed as he stood up, stretching his limbs in front of him, it was time to patrol the streets again.

Hey lovelies! Leave reviews for a part 2? Thanks for reading! :)

#andrew garfield #tasm fanfiction #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm 2 #tasm!peter x you #tasm andrew garfield #afternowayhome #i love you andrew #marvel #marvel fandom #spiderman #spiderman fandom #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fandom

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iamaboredpotatonugget · 1 year

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Peter Parker Fics that are well written and have the same Angsty vibe

In the beginning, he had struggled to understand why bad things kept happening to him. His parents, Ben- oh god, May…

(“How do you live with yourself after all that you’ve done? After you’ve driven your whole family to death?”)

It wasn’t long until he was forced to come to the conclusion that it was him that was the problem.

(“You should rid the world of your curse before someone else ends up dead.”)

And it hurt, and he felt himself drifting closer and closer to agreeing with Flash every day— but he was selfish, and ignorant, and so, so, weak. He wanted so badly to protect the ones he loved from harm after all that he had lost, but God dammit he was happy and he had a family and he loved them so much that he just couldn’t bring himself to leave.

(“Everyone would be better off without you.”)

He swallowed the lump in his throat.

“I uh… I fell down the stairs.”

They can’t know.

If Peter's an idiot for not telling anyone he's feeling a little under the weather (an understatement of the century), the Avengers must be pretty damn stupid for not realizing that Peter's spiraling mood is more than some "teen angst."

Peter only knows how to be empty or overflowing. Nothing in between.

Flash Thompson is a dickhead.

Everyone knows it, yet somehow Peter is the one that always gets called Penis. Everyone always laughs at Flash’s jokes about Peter, takes his side over Peter’s, likes him better than Peter. And if Flash Thompson is a dickhead and no one really likes him…

Surely one can imagine where that leaves Peter.

It’s okay,” Peter promises them softly. “I get it. I wouldn’t want me as a teammate either. It’s okay, I know what you need to do. I get it.”

Natasha’s eyes narrow, and she asks him, “And what do you think we need to do, Peter?” like it’s a threat. Like if he says the wrong thing, she’ll pounce. But he knows the answer to this question and god, they’re going to make him spell it out for them, aren’t they?

“You need to kick me off the team.”

Peter takes a beating, Bucky cleans him up.

Featuring concerned Steve and warm, oversized pajamas covered in sheep.

They don't always show it, but they've each got their own demons to battle. Peter keeps happening upon these battles.

While checking Peter over in the medbay bruce discovers neat rows of scars that march their way up the back of peter's thighs. The thought of Peter young and small as he is making the same mistakes Bruce did, hating himself the way Bruce still sometimes does, makes his stomach roll. He knows he has to tell tony. And he knows he isn't gonna take it well.

Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns.

He can still walk in a straight line, which is good.

He’s starving and tired and cold.

It’s been fifteen hours.

Peter never wanted this. He didn’t ask for the entire team to breathe down his neck whenever he eats, or to insist that he reaches some absurd goal weight when he’s perfectly fine where he’s at. He doesn’t need to change.

He just needs to stop day dreaming about killing himself. It’s getting distracting.

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izzylovesyou2022 · 2 years

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The Poet And The Beat~ TASM!GUITARIST!Peter Parker

Plot: Peter meets Evie, a poet looking to make a name in a new town. He’s a guitarist looking for a new start. They won’t fall in love.....or willll they?

Tropes: friends to lovers, guitarist!au, poet!au

Evie Cast knew too much about writing to be called a beginner. After all, she’d been writing since the age of seven. She’d published a book of poems when she turned twelve.

Unfortunately, the world didn’t treat her like her friends did. Her rounded face made her look too young for most publishers. Evie was young for publishing standards, having just turned eighteen six months ago. Not that she really cared what people thought of her. She’d publish on Amazon if she had too.

Little detailed snowflakes slipped into her hair and blanketed the ground as she walked along the streets of New York.

Evie had moved here from a small town in upper New York. She’d dreamed of living in the big city her whole life and she jumped at the chance to work at a newspaper firm as an editor.

As Evie moved along, carefully watching her step, her thoughts wandered to a new book she’d been editing for the last few weeks. Nature being one of her favorite subjects, she believed it was high time she published a book about it.

As so often happened when her brain wandered to thoughts of poetry, Evie lost track of her surroundings. She’d stopped paying attention to where she stepped and didn’t notice the large mark of ice until it was too late.

Up went her legs into the air as her arms twirled, trying hard to catch herself. Evie winced as she braced herself for impact with the cold surface but got quite the shock when she felt a pair of strong arms embracing her instead.

“Hey, you gotta be careful on these streets. Are you alright, cookie?”

Any other day, Evie would’ve been pissed at a guy calling her a nickname like that, but she allowed herself to be wrapped up in the warmth of the voice saying it and dared to look at him.

A pair of hazel brown eyes that looked like a nice cup of hot chocolate were locked on hers, a concerned frown tugging at his lips. She observed brown waves of hair sticking out under a royal blue beanie and the gold flash of a chain around his neckline.

“Oh, um, yes, thanks to you,” Evie breathed, steadying herself against him as he placed her back on his feet. His muscles heaved under her fingers and she had a quick flash of how those arms would feel wrapped around her in another way.

“I’m Peter,” the boy offered, flashing Evie a sweet smile that could’ve melted her into a puddle on the spot if she hadn’t been shaken up.

Evie licked her lips in an attempt to swallow her shock and gave Peter a smile in return.

“Evie. Evie Cast.”

She noticed a flash of something....maybe familiarity....spark across Peter’s haunting hazel eyes and noticed his hands reaching for the straps of his backpack.

“Weren’t you the girl that published a poetry book when you were 12?”

Evie stared and nearly choked in complete shock. How had he even come across her book? She didn’t even think it had made its way to the “Big Apple!” Wait....had he read her book? If he’d read her book, she’d pass out right here on the sidewalk.

“Um, yeah, I was.”

Peter suddenly took her by the elbow and steered her in the direction of a nearby coffee shop. Evie went along with it, mostly because her brain had short-circuited too much to ask any questions.

That her book might have actually been read by people living in the biggest city in the country was made than she could handle. And the cute boy next to her might have read it! How was she going to get through the rest of the day?

The blast of warmth from the coffee shop tore Evie from her reverie and she gasped in a huge breath of air, thankful to be out of the cold.

Her eyes wandered around the room as Peter steered her towards the counter. At the table right next to the counter was a man not much older than herself. His pen tapped along the rings of his notebook as he whispered to himself. He must’ve been talking himself through his next writing, Evie thought.

In the far corner of the shop stood a black bookshelf with tons and tons of books. Evie hoped there might be an Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman novel waiting for her to open.

“Hey, cookie? Do you know what you want to drink?”

This time, it was Peter’s voice that withdrew Evie from her daydream and forced her attention upward towards the menu hanging on the ceiling.

“Just a hot chocolate for me, thank you,” she told the worker as she dug into her purse for her wallet.

She had just placed her golden yellow wallet up onto the counter and made a movement to withdraw her card when the clucking of a tongue caught her attention.

“Tsk, Tsk, cookie. The man always pays on the first date.”

Evie opened her mouth to protest but one quick glance into those hazel eyes and all arguments flew out the window. This was so unfair. She wasn’t supposed to be tongue tied. After all, she’d been using words all over the place her entire life. But this devil named Peter Parker somehow snatched away her ability to say a word.

She swallowed hard and shook her head to clear it as Peter handed her the drink.

“You’re not normally this tongue-tied, are you, cookie?”

Evie managed to find her words and regain control of herself as she and Peter took seats near a wide window near the front of the cafe.

“No, Peter, I’m not. Can I ask why you pulled me into the cafe?”

She eyed Peter with an arched eyebrow and smiled around her cup when his face painted cherry red.

“Well,” he began, fumbling with his cup in an attempt to avoid Evie’s eyes, “I’ve always wanted to meet you. You just have a way with words that could really fit in with my music.”

A thoughtful hum exited her mouth and she lowered her cup, steam swirling from the open lid.

“You’re a guitarist, then?”

Peter looked down at the table and slowly nodded.

“And you would like to have me as a song writer.”

Peter’s eyes widened to an almost bizarre amount as he finally gathered the courage to lock eyes with her. Could this girl actually read his mind?

“Yeah.”

A smirk played at the edge’s of Evie’s lips as she tossed the purple straight hair away from her eyes. Song writing was not so different than poetry writing. She’d done both but found that, basically, they were one in the same. Except lyrics had music behind it.

“When do you want me to start?”

*******************************************************************************************

Fate felt very determined to pull Peter and Evie together. They’d run into each other more times than could be counted in that next week. They’d spent most of that week discussing the song over text and phone calls. Most of those phone calls were interrupted by shouts from Peter’s Aunt May about one thing or another, but Evie couldn’t really say she minded all that much.

“Have you given a lot of thought to the melody yet, Pete,” she asked on a snowy Saturday afternoon at the same coffee shop. Their table bore two different notebooks: one was Peter’s and the other was Evie’s.

Peter’s red guitar case leaned against the window still. He’d been fingering with the zipper, lost in thought until Evie’s question brought him back to reality.

“I kinda have something but it’s not exactly finalized, ya know?”

Evie hummed and glanced down at the words she had written down. Peter wasn’t expecting perfection, she knew that, but she’d started caring enough for Peter over that last week that she wanted his song to be a marvel.

She eyed Peter’s guitar case and, with great finality, slammed her notebook shut.

“Let me see your guitar, Pete.”

If Peter in anyway felt confused or concerned at the sudden eagerness in Evie’s voice, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he simply did as she asked and took the guitar it’s case.

The once clean guitar held dents and scars from years of being played. A particularly nasty dent lay right near the bottom guitar string (the “E” string), but in their eyes, a guitar sounded much much better as an older, imperfect instrument.

“What do you have in mind there, cookie,” he asked, sitting up much straighter in his chair than he had been.

Evie paid no mind to his question and swayed in her seat as she delicately plucked each string. Her slender fingers danced over the strings as her booted foot tapped lightly against the floor. She hadn’t told Peter that she had once played the guitar before she gave it up due to writing taking her main focus.

She stared down at her closed notebook and shivered. The thought of picking up guitar again moved something inside her. Like her heart screamed at her to go back to the days of playing the guitar and writing little songs.

“I’m thinking we should do an acoustic song, Pete. Something beautiful that will draw people in,” she decided, tilting her head at Peter as her fingers played with the strings.

Peter’s lips quirked dangerously to the side at the sight of Evie staring at him with those big green eyes. Those eyes that held so much light and joy. If he held the melody, she held the very words into his soul.

Was he falling too fast? Yes, but that wasn’t for him to decide. His heart needed to have her.

*******************************************************************************************

It had been about two months since Peter and Evie met but the sparks between them grew stronger every day. For them, meeting up wasn’t just about the songs anymore. No, the meetings were for them.

On this particularly warm winter day, Peter walked the two blocks from his apartments to Evie’s work to take her on a surprise date. He’d decided to dress up a little by wearing a purple collared shirt, khakis, and a new pair of winter boots. Evie would be coming out of work any moment.

“Oh! Peter, I thought you had to go into the studio today,” Evie exclaimed as she stepped around the corner of the door. Not that she wasn’t pleased to see Peter, he always managed to make her smile.

She smiled even wider and her heart beat a little faster as Peter took her hand in his. His huge fingers engulfed hers but she welcomed the size-difference. Peter had called her “shorty” so many times the last week, it became an inside joke for them.

“Well, cookie, it just wouldn’t be a good day without seeing your pretty face,” Peter sang out, causing Evie to laugh in spite of the blush on her cheeks.

“Not too loud, Petey! Don’t want all of New York to hear,” she giggled.

A tight squeeze on her hand made her look up into Peter’s gorgeous hazel eyes.

“I forgot you’re more of the quiet type. Sorry, cookie!”

Another laugh echoed from Evie’s throat and she rolled her eyes good-naturally at him.

“Where are you taking me, Petey? A secret hideout?”

“No, cookie. I’m taking you to the studio.”

Evie gasped and looked at him in complete shock. He was finally taking her to the studio? She’d dreamed of visiting there for two months!

“My manager’s been asking about you,” he explained as they stomped up the steps, “she wants to meet my little muse.”

First cookie and now muse? Was Peter intentionally trying to hold Evie’s heart in his hands? Did he ever understand how unfair she was actually being?

The smirk on Peter’s face as he pushed open the studio door told Evie he did, in fact, know exactly what he was doing.

Now she just needed to decide if she wanted to kick him or kiss him.

*******************************************************************************************

Evie hadn’t wanted to commit murder in a long time. Normally she was super cool with handling sexist or rude remarks from men, but this time, her emotions bubbled to the top of the surface.

She’d been working on the sports section of the newspaper when the ink slipped right out of her hand and smashed onto the floor. A moment that Evie no longer found truly embarrassing. She’d done it and seen it way too many times.

Her manager had been working with another employee at the time but when he heard the crash, he spun away and caught Evie’s eye.

“That’s alright, Evie. Just clean it up and try again.”

Evie gave her manager a thumbs up and trotted away to grab some paper towel. Her manager was the nicest guy in the world. She’d found out that he, too, had read the poetry book she’d published at twelve. He’d complimented her on her writing skills at such a young age.

“Not every one can write like that so young, Evie,” he’d told her.

As Evie cleaned up the spill, she overheard a coworker--James-- who’d always had an issue with her speak to the manager.

“How many times has she spilled ink, boss? That ain’t a good look for her.”

The manager shot James a look and warned him to get back to his job.

“She’s one of the hardest workers here, James. Everyone messes up once in a while.”

James rolled his eyes as Evie walked away to toss the paper towel into the trash.

“She doesn’t even belong here, boss. She should be in the kitchen making us some food. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Evie’s body trembled as tears stung at her eyes. She’d known James was a jerk but to say a comment like that? He was far more sexist than she’d believed.

“How about you shut your fucking mouth, James? If I made you a sandwich, I’d sure as hell make sure there were ink stains on it!”

Then, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the building. The manager never even stopped her. He was too busy ripping James a new one.

Evie kept on walking, ignoring the cold, ignoring the snow, ignoring the fact that in her hurry, she’d forgotten her coat. Anger traveled through every inch of her veins and her blood ran between hot and cold. Her teeth clattered from the harsh wind but Evie barely noticed.

She just kept walking until she reached a familiar front door. She banged three hard knocks on it and took in huge gasps of air to control her breath. Her eyes were so full of tears she couldn’t see.

“Cookie?”

Warm arms wrapped around Evie and lead her inside. A thick blanket was placed around her shoulders and someone pulled her into their lap.

“Hey, cookie, what happened?”

Evie looked up at Peter as her lower lip trembled again.

“My coworker! He’s awful! Just so sexist! H-he made a comment at me and n-normally I’m okay b-but this one just really got to me.”

The entire story tumbled out of Evie like waves upon waves of a dam finally breaking. She clung tighter to Peter with every single word she spoke and by the time she was finished speaking, her head was buried into his shoulder to try and muffle her sobs.

Careful hands stroked through the waves of her thick hair and kind lips pressed against the top of her head. Evie had never felt this exhausted from her emotions her entire life.

“He’ll get what’s coming to him, believe me, cookie.”

Evie pulled her head off her shoulder to stare into his eyes. She must’ve looked like an awful mess but the light in Peter’s eyes and the lines softening the corners of his mouth told a different story.

She reached up her hands, wrapped around the oversized sweater she’d been given sometime during her breakdown, and shakily cupped Peter’s cheeks. This boy was more than just a guitarist: he was an artist in every sense of the word. Although the songs had no words, his melodies hit Evie in the soul right where a piece of her was missing.

If he had been missing the words of a true poet, than she’d been missing the plucking of the strings of an old guitar with dents and scratches carved into the wood. The dents and scratches telling a story that would outlast even the oldest of songs.

“You finish that melody yet, Pete,” she murmured, lowering her head to touch Peter’s forehead with her own.

Peter gasped quietly as her skin touched his. His guitar-worn hands carefully slid along her back before coming to rest on her hips. In front of him sat the most marvelous, beautiful, and exquisite masterpiece he’d ever seen or heard.

Her little poems, those words flowing endlessly through pen or her own divine lips, were the lyrics his heart had been missing.

“No, cookie,” he whispered back, his lips almost touching hers.

Evie brushed her nose against his and giggled at the nose scrunch that followed.

“The Poet and The Beat,” she whispered before her lips connected with his.

Peter didn’t need any further information to understand what her words meant. They, together, poet and guitarist, created one word where sound and lyrics collided. That was to be their moniker, their brand, their way of life. The Poet and The Guitarist together as one.

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keanureevesisbae · 2 years

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smut/18+ = ✧ | finished = | on going = ✎ | hiatus =

| multi chaptered fics |

↳˗ˏˋbucky barnesˊˎ˗ ↴

serendipity : winnie monroe cannot go to a monroe family weekend again without a boyfriend, so she asks her neighbor bucky barnes for a favor.

↳˗ˏˋpeter parkerˊˎ˗ ↴

dusk till dawn : peter parker and jordan wilson meet at school, but little do they know they have encountered each other once before.

↳˗ˏˋsam wilsonˊˎ˗ ↴

eunoia : while sam wilson struggles to accept the new title of captain america, quinn has a hard time remembering her past. (on hiatus)

#bucky barnes #peter parker #sam wilson #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fandom #sam wilson fanfic #mcu masterlist #keanureevesisbae

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c1nnam00n · 1 month

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how it feels trying to find a fanfic/imagine about a fandom that’s dead and dry

3K notes · View notes

lanadelreyscokewhor3 · 2 years

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SAVE A HORSE, RIDE A COWBOY- P.B PARKER

Pairing: Dilf! Cowboy! Peter Parker x Innocent! Fem! Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Coming home for the summer back to the farm had it's perks. One of them being, you get to help out the owner of the ranch next door, Peter Parker. As they say- save a horse, ride a cowboy.

Warnings: thigh riding, over stim, BREEDING KINK, pet names, sir kink, praise kink, dumbification kink, degradation kink, tit play, smut implied, choking, cum feeding, teasing, swearing, yelling & booze mentioned ( readers father gets drunk & mad), age gap ( reader is mid 20s, peter is 40s), i let all my daddy issues shine through with this one yall, saddle up!!

Notes: "you're in the wind, i'm in the water- nobody's son, nobody's daughter... watching the chemtrails over the country club" - lana del rey, chemtrails over the country club

The caw of the rooster woke you every morning.

You didn’t have the luxury of an alarm clock, the blaring red numbers and constant blaring every five seconds being replaced with the trickle of the sunrise through your dainty lace curtains, the weight of your dog Harley jumping on your legs.

You didn’t mind.

It was a nice change from the sound of the bustling streets, the yelling of people down below mixed with the consistent sirens.

You loved your little apartment in the city, your roommate always providing you with comfort and kind words with a side of her jasmine tea.

But you had missed home.

You missed breathing in fresh, clean air, the soft breeze that would sway through the willow trees by the creek. You missed the feeling of the warm sunlight beating on you as you sat in the pasture with the cows, often sketching them while your father would yell at you to feed them, not just give them therapy sessions.

You could already hear their mooing from by the barn, causing you to sit up with a stretch, a yawn escaping your lips as you scrambled out from under the sheets.

An extra pep was in your step as you scurried down the hall to the washroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face in record time.

Today was the day.

You braided your hair in little pigtails, wrapping little pink bows to finish them off, smiling at your reflection in the mirror.

Today, you'd be seeing Mr. Parker again. Mr. Parker was your neighbour, the owner of the ranch right next to your farm. Your father had introduced him to you the second you had hauled in your suitcases in the door for the summer, and you nearly had fallen to your knees right then and there.

He was a living Adonis, his boyish smile making your face heat more than the stale summer heat outside.

I offered you up to help Mr.Parker this summer Y/N. His boys left the ranch to settle in the city before their first year at University.

Now typically, you hated when your father did this. This, little thing where he’d offer you around to the villagers like carol songs on Christmas, announcing that’d you'd be helping them with chores, without charge.

Of course, you couldn't just say no- being rude was not in your nature. But it irked you to no end when you’d have to scrub Mrs. Dorris's endless pile of dishes, or when you were forced to shovel manure on Mr. Hill’s barn with a smile plastered on your face.

But this wasn't Mrs. Dorris, and sure as hell wasn't Mr. Hill. This was Mr. Parker.

I’ll go easy on ya darlin. he had said with a wink, when the look of surprise was stunned upon your face at your father's words. Your heart had fluttered, hands went clammy as your fidgeted with your sundress. The thought of him and the words that rolled off his tongue had you smiling, a blush staining your cheeks as you ran back to your bedroom, slipping on the prettiest shirt you owned, and a pair of jeans that hugged your curves like a glove.

A basket filled with fresh berries and slices of homemade bread you had prepared last night was wrapped in flannel linen as you kissed your father on the cheek, and rushed out the door.

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

“Come in!” the husky voice called in response to your soft knocking on the oak door, sending shivers down your spine as you creaked it open, peeping your head inside. The sight had you nearly falling to your knees, the basket near slipping from your fingers.

You had walked in on him buttoning up the last of his white dress shirt, his beautiful, calloused hands adjusting the silver watch at his wrist. There was no ring on his finger, you noted.

Part of you hated yourself for feeling a wave of relief and happiness wash over you at the bareness of his hands, the other side encouraged it.

It was agony, wanting this man. You knew deep down, it probably wasn't right, him being a little younger than your father. Yet you couldn't stop the feelings you felt, no matter how much you tried to repress them back down. They bubbled to the surface, with every smile he gave you, with every word that spilled from his lips.

“Hello, love.” he smiled, bringing your attention up to his soft, brown eyes, the sunlight shining on them, turning them caramel.

“Hello sir.” you smiled softly placing the basket of goodies on the table, clasping your hands together. As if your inner conscious knew if you didn't, you'd reach out to touch the living artwork of the man, running your fingers down the planes of his shoulders, across his sharp jawline, through the strands of his silky hair from under that damn hat…

“Are those for me darlin’?” he asked, tugging you out of your daydream. “They're from Daddy's bushes outback… I picked some yesterday. The bread I made last night.” you blushed, watching as he popped a raspberry in his mouth.

Juices stained his fingers, in which you watched him suck them clean, his eyes boring into yours the entire time, gaze mischievous.

You gulped.

“You shouldn't have love. You’re too sweet.” he winked, rolling up his sleeves to his elbows as he brushed past your frame. “You give little treats to everyone darlin?” he asked, eyebrow raised as he held the door open, nudging for you to step back outside with him.

You obeyed.

“Only the ones I like.” you teased, earning a laugh from him. It was your new favourite sound, you decided, as light and airy as the birds who chirped from the branches of his oak trees.

“I’m honoured, sweetheart.”

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

Mr. Parker stood true to his word, of course. He did go easy on you.

Not once did you lift a finger, as much as you offered to. He just shooed you off with a smile, saying today was an “introduction day”.

You were given a tour of his property, its beautiful pasture and meadows appearing like a painting in your mind. You couldn't help but smile as you watched some horses gallop in the meadow, their manes blowing in the gentle breeze as the grass swayed. It was stunning here. All seven hundred acres of it.

From the little apple trees that bloomed white in the spring to the creek that stretched to the back of his property, you never wanted to leave here. Especially if Mr. Parker would be here.

The day was drawing near, the afternoon heat diminishing as he took you around his barn, showing you all the horses that nicked in their stalls. You’ll mostly be helping out here, if that's alright darlin. Just keeping them fed, watered, clean and maybe even on some rides while I get stuff done out back. He had told you as you scratched a pinto mare's forehead lovingly, laughing as he snorted at you.

“I saved the best for last.” he teased, leading you to very last stall. A gorgeous chestnut mare poked its head out from the opening, it’s doe eyes wide as it took you in.

“This is Layla. She’s truly something.” Sure enough, a golden plate with Layla was underneath her long neck, glimmering brightly as the sunlight trickled through the open doors. “She's beautiful.” you gasped, placing your hand out for her to sniff.

“Layla’s the first horse I ever bought. Don't let her age fool you though, she runs as fast as the greens our back.” he joked, scratching her neck gently. “She seems very friendly.” you nodded, your heart seeming to triple three sizes as she nudged Peter's body, as if to say- more attention on me please!

“Oh she's a sweetheart. She's my good girl, aren't you Layla? Such a good girl.” he cooed, patting her neck.

The barn suddenly became hot, the sticky afternoon heat reappearing as your cheeks flushed. Such a good girl.

Those four words alone had you keening, causing you to chew on your cheek as you clenched your thighs together, kicking little pebbles as a means to calm down.

Those words weren't sexual. They were not intended for you. So why did it feel like it was?

You wanted to slap yourself silly for thinking this way, taking something so innocent and contorting it into… whatever this was. The dampness in your panties increased as he turned his attention towards you, a grin on his face.

Almost as if he knew. Almost as if he could see right through you.

“So does that sound okay then love? Lookin after them?” You nodded, following suit after Peter as he turned on his heel, heading back out the main doors. “Good. Wanna make sure you're comfortable here, okay?”

“Yes Mr. Parker. Thank you, um, for showing me the ropes and stuff today.” you blushed. “Of course darlin’. And-” He stopped you with the gentle touch of his hand, the feeling warm against your goosebump ridden skin.

“Don't be afraid to come over after hours okay? If you need anything at all, I’m here.” His eyes bore into yours, the softness they portrayed making you hypnotised.

You would do anything this man asked of you. You'd come over every day, every night, every hour if that's what Peter wanted.

“Thank you sir. You’re too kind.” The fact his grip tightened slightly at your words didn't go unnoticed by you. Nothing ever did, when it involved him. “Have a good evening darlin’.”

It was going to be a very, very long summer indeed.

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

“YOU RUIN EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH GIRL!” Your fathers' cruel voice and the sound of the glass hitting the floor echoed, his whisky coating the floor with its bitterness had you running for the door with a cry.

Your vision was blurry as you sniffled, tears making your eyes red and puffy as you sobbed. The door slammed behind you with a thud, your legs carrying you as fast as they could down the steps and to the driveway.

You needed out.

You needed away from this house, and your fathers booze stained breath. His temper raged when he drank, and that was many times this week.

Many, many times.

The cool air soothed your heaving lungs, the cicadas buzzing under the moon distracting the buzzing in your brain. You couldn't think of anywhere else to go but, well… Peters.

The offer he had given you the first day of your time on the ranch blazed in your memory like a wildfire, his soothing voice numbing the pain.

You wanted to see him.

The idea of his soft embrace and charming smile sent your feet running down the driveway, down the road and to his house. You prayed the offer still kept. You had worked for Peter nearly every day this summer, and when you didn't work, you still often dropped by to give him little treats and pastries.

It was too late to second guess yourself any longer as you clambered over the closed gate, lock and chains jangling as you jumped down. Cursing yourself for wearing a little lace nightgown, you made your way down the long driveway.

There was dim lighting from behind his curtains, and you were thankful he wasn't asleep. The guilt that would wash over you if he was would never leave. You made your way up the front porch steps, rattling on his door quietly, The curtains shuffled as he made his way to the door, creaking it open slowly.

“Y/N? Darlin are you okay?” he asked gently, a look of concern on his face as he shooed you in. “I know its late, Mr. Parker sir but I just…”

You burst out into tears, hands covering your face as you cried. You felt his large frame wrap around you in a comforting embrace, swaying you side to side in his arms.

“Shhh, shh its okay love. Just let it out, atta girl.” he cooed softly, stroking your hair in a soothing manner as you gripped his shirt like your life depended on it.

“M’so sorry sir.” you sniffled, rubbing your nose as he lead you over to the couch. “Hey, never ever apologise honey. I told you that you could over anytime, did I not?”

You nodded softly, glancing up to meet his gaze. “Exactly. Can you tell me what happened love?”

His voice was so rich, so smooth and dreamy you never wanted him to stop talking. Each word was a note from a symphony, blending together in perfect harmony. You trusted him. More than anything, you trusted him. Which is why you told him everything.

“Dad was drinking again and he- he started getting mad again. Throwing stuff and yellin, blaming me for things I- I have no control over.” you sniffled, his palm cupping your cheek as he whipped your stray tear with his thumb.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry. That's not very nice of him is it?” You shook your head. “He’s being so cruel to you angel. But I’m so proud of you for coming over, you did the right thing.” he whispered, kissing your forehead tenderly.

You felt your heart thud madly in your chest, its beat in sync with the cantering stallions in the barnyard. His skin smelt of oak as he drew you even closer to him, sliding your body across his lap. There was nearly no space between the two of you now, but you didn't care.

Peter was here now.

He’d take care of you.

“He’s always telling me mean things, it makes me cry. I don't like to cry very much Mr. Parker.” you whispered, the throbbing in your core becoming more prominent as he began to bounce his knee.

Up down, up down.

You hiccuped softly as his hand came to rest on your thigh, tracing circles gently against your skin. It was comforting. You liked it, more than you should have.

“Tears can be pretty sometimes sweetheart. Happy tears, for instance.”

“But these aren't happy ones sir.” you smiled weakly, watching as his hand inch up your thigh. “I know sweetheart. We should do somethin about that eh? Get you feeling all better?” he purred.

You nodded, too dumbstruck for words as his hand resumed its hitch hiking, making its way closer to your soaking clothed cunt from under your nightgown.

Oh god.

“W-what are you doing sir?” you asked meekly as his fingers gently traced the cloth, making you shiver, the pulsing of your clit near unbearable as he teased.

“Oh darlin, I’m making it all better, see?” he pouted, slowly adjusting you so you sat straddled across his thigh. “But Mr. Park-”

“Shhh, darlin. Its just me, its your Peter.” he shushed you, hands tracing the curves of your hips, running up and down as he watched your nipples pebble from under the soft nightgown. He could sense the worry on your face as you chewed on your lip, looking up at him softly.

You wanted this. More than anything you wanted this. But deep down, you knew it was a bad idea, getting mixed up with your employer.

But weren't the bad ideas always the best ones?

“I see those thoughts runnin in that pretty head of yours baby. Little girls like you don't need to think, they need to be taken care of. And I’m gonna take care of you okay? I’ll give you everything you need, everything to make you feel better.” he cooed, tugging on a curl that had fallen from behind your ear as you swallowed, nodding.

He was right. Peter was always right, you knew this.

“Yes sir.” you whispered, eager to please the man. “God when you call me that darlin you drive me wild. Make me so god damn hard and you don't even know it, you silly girl.” he mocked, eye brow raised as he squeezed your cheeks together.

“Makes me wanna bend you over and stuff you full of cum, till your drippin. Makes me wanna spank your ass red, till you're a blubbering mess. But I can’t do that, can I sweetheart? That'd be too cruel for my innocent lil girl.” Peters grip made its way down to your neck, closing firmly around your neck, making you gasp.

“Mr. Parker I need-”

“Ah ah ah..” he clucked his tongue, watching your doe eyes widen. “I know what you need darlin. I always know what you need.”

Any thoughts from your brain has left, your body and mind solely given to use for Peter in whichever way he wanted. You wouldn't be surprised if drool dribbled out of your mouth with the way you were under his trance, your gaze fully focused on his full blown pupils.

“Yes sir.” you speculated, smiling as his dimples showed. You were making him happy. “Good girl. Now you're gonna ride my thigh yea? Then I’m gonna fill you with cock until you're fucked stupid.”

You found yourself nodding, his grip on your hips tightening as you began to rut your hips against his thigh, the denim feeling delicious against your clit. “Mghmm.” you moaned, rolling your head back as he guided you slowly against his bouncing knee.

“You’d like that huh? My dumb lil darlin, stuffed full.” he teased, country drawl even heavier as he watched you in delight. The praise and degradation was making your head spin, your bones turned to mush as you rode him.

There was a fire in your veins, a simmering in your core that continued to burn with each rise and fall of his knee, with each gentle kiss and lick he placed on your collarbone.

It ached. It ached more than anything.

“I know it aches honey, but you gotta be a good girl and take what I give you.” he murmured against your skin, moaning as you slid your hands up through his hair, tugging.

The brown, honeyed strands were as silky and smooth as you thought they'd be, perfect reins for you to hold onto. “Been wanting you so badly sir please!” you cried, your slick coating his jeans as you slid your hips.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

It was addicting, the way he was making you feel without truly touching you. “Oh honey I know. I’ll just have to ruin you for all those boys at college won’t I?”

He was toying with you, a cat chasing its dinner. You were the mouse. And you were perfectly fine with that.

“Please!” you gasped, pulling on his scalp as he leaned down to suck on your breasts through the lace of your dress. “Mmm. By the time I’m done with ya darlin, these will be full of milk. Gonna fuck you r-right.” he stuttered as you tugged on his his hair, arching your back to provide better access as he licked and sucked. He bit down on your nipple, tugging at his teeth as you screamed his name.

You were shattering. You were floating, a simple atom floating with the stars as you came, toes curling from the sensations. You never wanted to stop.

You never wanted him to stop.

No one had ever made you feel this way, had made you orgasm so hard your eye rolled back to your brain…

“That’s a good girl. Such a good baby.” he praised, his gentle voice snapping you back to realty as he brushed his lips against your soft, warm skin.

“M’so good. So so good…” you trailed off, sleepy smile on your face as he slid his hand down to the wet patch on his pants, smearing your juices on his fingers.

“Open up darlin.” he hummed, winking as you stuck your tongue out, lapping up your cum from his fingers like a kitten drinking its milk.

“My good girl.” `

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