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#||..asks | peter parker
brainzzzeater · 2 months
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@ask-spiderpool
Fanart for the blog I love most!
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ohwowimlonley · 4 months
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peter just coming over to your place to fuck you rough then cuddle w you while he asks about your day lol
Peter loving backshots w you bc of the way reader ass moves lol- idk something tells me he’s an ass man ( especially tasm! Peter )
Double P having you on top and putting you in a bear hug as he thrusts
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“Well, if Mr Stevens can’t see that you’re acing this photography, then he really shouldnt be teaching at all,” you’d say, raking your nails through his thick hair. He nudges closer to you, cheek resting against your breasts as he tracks his right hand lazily over your naked body.
“I know, I know, just wish I could get a passing grade for once,” he laments, fingers eventually dropping in between your legs, sliding through the wetness of both our your releases.
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“God, baby, fuckin’ look at it,” it’s a whine, or Peter’s closest approximation to it. He takes your asscheeks in both his hands, pulling them apart, pushing them back together, squeezing, slapping, digging his nails in, “gonna fuck it one day, you won’t be able to walk for a week,”
“Ahh,” you sob, arching your back as he shocks you with the harshest spank yet. You’re sure your ass is red raw by now, but it doesn’t stop Peter from pulling your cheeks apart again and landing a fat glob of spit directly onto your unused hole.
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“Right there- Peter!” It’s almost a scream, but it’s really not your fault because Peter has his arms wrapped firmly around your back, fingers stretching to the space in between your shoulder blades and using it as leverage to fuck up into you at the perfect angle, right into that soft spongy spot deep inside you that makes you dribble onto his shoulder, “oh, God!”
“Shh, sweetness, it’s okay,” he murmurs into your hair, smirking as you cry out when his pubic hair graze against your engoreged clit, “I’m right here,”
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sciderman · 1 month
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he suffered more than christ
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ask-spiderpool · 6 months
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literaila · 6 months
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hey v ! what about peter and reader getting ready to go somewhere and after reader puts on some red lipstick peter can't stop kissing her ?
lipstick
warnings: ugh, peter
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*
“how many times have you done that?”
peter is standing behind you, leaning against the wall, probably ruining your focus, or your makeup, or your sanity. he’s probably staring just to mess with you.
you refrain from smiling in the mirror. wipe a smudge with your nail. “i don’t know, peter,” you meet his eyes, and his nefarious smirk. “how many times have you watched me do it?”
“i got lost somewhere around the first time.”
you laugh at him, crumbling the napkin you’ve been using, now filled with kiss marks, and turning it around so you can throw it at peter. “are you sick?” you ask him.
instead of answering, he licks his lip and unfolds the napkin, staring at the red marks, creases and tireless efforts arranged in a messy pattern. “this is like art.”
“why are you acting like you’ve never seen anyone wear lipstick before?”
“what?” he asks, hand to his chest. “i cant watch you get ready? i’m banned from being in the bathroom when you are?”
“yes, and yes.”
it does not escape your notice when peter tucks the napkin into his pocket for safekeeping.
he shrugs. “i don’t mind breaking the rules.”
you scoff at him and pat his shoulder as you walk past him through the doorway. “i would’ve locked you out if i knew you were going to be weird about it.”
“weird? how am i being weird?”
“you were lurking. you’re still lurking.”
“i’m talking to my girlfriend. that’s part of our contract.”
“you’re following me.”
peter smiles. “well, i like you.”
you roll your eyes, almost—almost—smiling when you feel his arms wrap around your waist. “please don’t make me argue about your stalker like tendencies.”
“we don’t have to argue,” peter says, kissing the space beneath your ear. his breath is hot.
“i need to put my shoes on, peter.”
he smiles, his teeth clashing against your skin like a dreadful reminder. some type of jumpscare—minus the fact that you merely lean into him, sans jumping. “we can spare fifteen minutes.”
“how can you be thinking about anything besides the fact that we’re already late to meet may?”
he nibbles on the skin by your collarbone, then licks it, as reprieve. “it must be the lipstick.”
“you’ve literally seen me with lipstick before. i wore some on our first date.”
“‘s probably why i like it so much.”
his lips are needy as they crawl around your skin. his hands are stationary, but they pose their own threat as they lurk.
“peter, we have to go.”
“i’m not known for my punctuality,” he spins you around, his lips curled in mischief, “you know.”
“i’m aware.”
you refuse to indulge him. your brows furrow, your hands held in the air—just so you can avoid accidentally touching him. purposefully.
“then why are you so worried?” peter asks, kissing your cheek.
“i’m not kissing you,” you say, instead of answering.
“you’re not?” peter pouts like a child. he is far too grown.
“no.”
“how come?”
you try to pull away from him, but, shockingly, peter is stronger than you are. your will is weak. “you’re going to smudge my lipstick. i just finished.”
“you have more, don’t you?”
“not the point.”
“what?” he asks, his voice so serious and teasing. “you don’t want to kiss me?”
“no, i do not.”
you look away from him, admiring a wall that has always been there.
“are you sure?” peter asks, ducking so he can catch your eyes again, because he is nothing if not cruel.
you break, pouting. “peter,” you whine, “we’re not going to be late again.”
“i think we are.”
“you can kiss me when we get home later,” you promise, trying again to wiggle out of his grasp.
“that is a terrible compromise.”
“you won’t compromise,” you snap back. “what else am i supposed to do?”
peter grins, tilting his head. “okay. i have an idea. how about i kiss you, and then we leave? you don’t even have to kiss back, even though we’d both prefer it that way.”
“i’ll kiss you,” you mock him. “you’re the worst negotiator i’ve ever met.”
“then how come we haven’t left yet?”
you scowl at him, and he scowls back, but his eyes are alight.
your skin is ravenous with an ache to touch him, he’s so close that kissing him would be nothing—merely breathing, really—but you don’t want to lose this game to peter. and you dont want him to stop looking at you.
he pretends to check a watch. “hmm, it’s getting awfully late.”
“are you british all of the sudden?”
peter grins, biting his lip before he tries to bite you. you lean away. “if you like my accent, all you have to do is say so.”
“i like it when you get out of my way, and stop trying to sabotage me. i like that a lot.”
“no clue what you mean, dear.”
you roll your eyes and manage to cross your arms in his hold.
“i wonder how we could solve this,” peter muses, tapping his finger on your waist. “it’s a big problem.”
“i could leave you behind and have lunch with may myself.”
“that’s one option.”
you roll your eyes again.
“i was thinking something else, though,” peter says, and he’s closer now, but you’re sure that you never saw him move. “something more… proactive.”
“shove it, peter.”
“you don’t even want to hear it?”
you sigh, leaning your chest into him, out of pure delusion. “fine. what?”
peter smiles at you, eyes catching eyes.
the look on his face is soft, delirious. he’s got that look in his eyes, and that smile on his face, and he’s still staring at you like he’s mesmerized by whatever you’re doing.
“what?” you repeat, but softly, like you can’t find your voice in the chest cavity peters taken hold of.
“kiss me,” he says, softly, and it’s really not your fault that his lips are already brushing yours.
and it’s not your fault when you lean in, sighing in relief at the mere feel of him.
you’re almost breathless, from the tiniest of kisses.
but then you kiss peter again, and again, and your hands finally wrap around him—keeping hold of something real in this fake reality—and your voice isn’t your own when you groan at peter for making you do this.
you have evacuated your body. you have lost common sense.
but it doesn’t matter, because kissing peter has always made you forget all of that.
and it still does, when he pulls back, grinning like he’s won. “see?” he says, voice ragged. “it was simple.”
“we’re going to be late and it’s your fault.”
peter laughs, kissing you again, staring at your red lips. “gladly. i’ll take all the blame.”
“and you’re making it up to me later.”
“whatever you say,” he murmurs, thumb brushing your bottom lip.
he releases you and watches as you finally put on your shoes.
you don’t think it necessary to mention the red marks on his lips. it’s not like it’s your fault they’re there.
*
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I... Cannot stop
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hungryhungry-himbo · 8 months
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Your miguel is so good oof
Imagine he used to tease Peter B. about getting fat and then ends up getting even bigger because he's a major stress eater so he's bursting outta that suit completely oblivious while Peter is looking at him like O.O "damn"
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i’ve been thinking of this ask for so long and finally made a sketch to go with it. also miguel being a stress eater is so hot
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bethsvrse · 1 month
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why are you, a minor, writing nsfw fics? where tf are your parents kiddo??
I've had quite a few people ask me questions like this lately, so I'd like to clarify a few things.
Firstly, my mum is a fan of my writing. She reads most of my pieces (minus the smut although she's aware I write them). In fact, she often helps edit my one-shots because I have dyslexia.
Secondly, it's adults, much like yourself, who tend to treat topics like sex, drugs, and alcohol as these forbidden subjects for minors that will cause kids to explore these things in a way to rebel against their parents. When adults aren't open to discussing these matters and teaching kids how to approach them safely, it actually makes them more curious.
In my experience, having parents who are open and willing to have these conversations has built trust between us. They've allowed me to have a drink on special occasions and have been open about sex, rather than treating it as taboo.
So yeah, that’s where my parents are and that why me, a minor, am writing nsfw fics! 😁
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avengerlevelthreat · 2 months
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Peter: all right first question. are you the killer?
suspect: no
Peter: really?
suspect: yes
Peter:
Peter:
Peter: killersaywhat
suspect: what?
Peter: got em! we got em!
Tony, banging a gavel: guilty! guilty!
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sincericida · 2 months
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Do you have any favorite Peter smut fics to recommend? I'm in need something spicy! I'll take anything you can think of!
Dear, if you want to turn up your temperature with some of the smut fics I’ve read recently, here are a few:
So, So Mean, by @lovelettersforthedamned
Smitten, Peter's Angel, The Ruler and The Killer, Peter and a Cam Girl, Enraptured, Doing so Well, Not so Innocent, The Goddess, In The Dark, Cheating With Peter, Phone Sex, and my favorite ever Back to Basics, by @blooming-violets
Love on the Brain: Sugar & Vice, vol 2, Sugar and Vice, Sweet Dreams, These Violet Delights, by @liz-allyn
Bondage, Mattress Acting, by @reysdriver
August Slipped Away by @peterthepark
Symbiote mini series by @mrshipsmcgee
Florence series by @periprose
Dulcet by @jamespottersdaisy
Quiet Temptations by @parkerpeter24
Sparks Fly by @mortwig
Jawbreaker by @witchywcmans
The Angel In The Garden of Evil series, In Your Boss’s Office, Professor Peter Parker by @backtothefanfiction
'Til Kingdom Come by @pedrito-friskito
Masterlist of @withahappyrefrain
This fic of @deviouz
Going to The Edge of Heaven by @multifandomworldsposts
Another Love series by @abibliophobiaa
Too Close For Comfort by @lovelettersforthedamned
Thick and Thin by @ficthots
Daddy Issues seeries by @venus616
I’m Holding my Breath for You by @lxinesux
There must be others I’ve read, but I’ve read so much fanfic… You must find more things in this tag [peter parker fanfic] that I usually put in the fics I reblogged.
Thank you to all the writers on Tumblr!
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ikarakie · 10 months
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one thing you learn living in new york: you literally never know what's going to happen the next day. it's become a general rule of thumb to expect the unexpected, so to speak.
despite this, when the avengers get reports of iron man flying in circles over queens, growing more frantic by the second, they're confused. mainly because they're currently sat at a table with tony stark himself. and, according to his ai, the suit that's out causing mayhem is still securely stored downstairs.
they all head out to see what the hell is going on. they meet with strange on the way, who mutters something about inter-dimensional disturbances and whatnot.
spider-man gets to the scene just before them. the second iron man visibly freezes when he spots him in his red and blue glory. "mr. stark?" they hear him ask. they see as he turns and spots them, and then does a double take. "what's going on?"
"underoos!" real tony calls, nervous, at the same time as the other one spots them, and then lurches forward to all but manhandle peter behind him.
the avengers all tense, readying for a fight. fake tony raises a repulsor. "i just want the kid. i don't want to fight."
"you don't belong here." strange says, infuriatingly calm. "i don't know how you got here, but you need to go home." fake tony nods. strange adds, "you can't take him with you." which earns him a rather mean blast. luckily, he ducks out of the way.
the poor kid is whipping his head back and forth, clearly confused. tony's stomach twists unhappily. "you don't understand," fake tony hisses, "all the work it took to get here. i'm not going home without him."
"you have to." strange takes a step forward, "you can't transport him between universes. it's not viable." the lenses on peter's suit widen, and he looks at the fake tony.
"he's from another universe?" steve asks, disbelieving. strange nods, and opens his mouth to say something more, but is cut off by the other-universe tony. he removes his faceplate, revealing a tony stark that is far more haggard than anyone had ever seen before. he's thinner, his eyes are darker, pleading. he looks like a man who's lost everything.
tony looks to peter, who's still staring, wide-eyed. he can see the gears in his head moving but can't decipher why.
"you dimension hopped to kidnap the kid?" tony asks, a little unfocused. the kid was in danger, and it was all he could think about. "why?" peter turns to him, then back to tony number two. he gasps as something apparently clicks in his brain.
he steps forwards, rounds the other-universe tony and stands in front of him. he instantly lowers the repulsor. "because i'm dead." peter says, confidently.
everyone pauses. they look at the spider like he's gone insane, because he clearly isn't dead, not anymore, at least. but other-universe tony looks like he's had the wind knocked out of him. "pete-"
peter deactivates his mask. "right?" he asks. other-universe tony frantically looks over his face.
"it's my fault." he says, softly. "i'm so sorry. i'm sorry, pete. i'm-"
"come out of the suit."
other-universe tony pauses. "what?"
"come out here, please." peter asks again. other-universe tony does as he asks, stumbling out and immediately into the open and waiting arms of the baby spider. it seems to break him, the embrace; all at once he loses any trace of intimdation and anger and sobs, curling around the boy as much as he can. peter seems unphased, unlike the other heroes, and shushes him. "it's okay, mr. stark. it's not your fault," he murmurs soothingly, only reaching their ears due to the intercom on his suit. "it was never your fault. i chose this, i chose to come up there. i didn't regret it for a second."
other-universe tony heaves. "i was supposed to protect you. i failed. i failed and you're gone and you were so scared and i couldn't do anything-"
"you're wrong," peter soothes, and it's a weird image. the child comforting the adult. "if he was anything like me, then-" for a second, his eyes cut back to this-universe tony. "then he was glad you were there when he was dying. you made him feel safer. it would've been so much worse without you."
and then it all clicks for tony. this was a version of him from a world post-snap, who'd watched a kid he considered his own fade to dust in his arms. who sat in his own guilt, and shame, and loneliness. he knew the feeling all too well, and this tony had crossed dimensions to try and get his kid back in any way possible.
if it were for anyone but peter parker, this tony would've said it was a little dramatic.
he's sent home eventually, the other tony, after some more comforts and a not so subtle hint as to how they got everyone back after the snap, much to strange's dismay. later, real tony sits in the lab, watching peter from across a table, and he asks, "how'd you figure it out?"
"figure what out, mr. stark?"
"why that other me was here." peters looks up from whatever he's tinkering with. frowns.
"well, you invented time travel to get me back," he says. "why would you stop before dimension travel? it just made the most sense." tony has half a mind to argue, but one look at his lab: a midtown high hoodie draped over the back of a chair, a teenager's backpack in the corner, a seperated table with it's own organisational pattern and piles of blueprints, a report card pinned to a board, and a spiderman charm hanging from dum-e, he figures the kid is right.
"yeah, well, i love you a little too damn much then, don't i?" he doesn't think about the words before he says them. he's felt it for so long it feels like a second instinct.
luckily he gets no time to panic. because peter immediately lights up, says, "i love you too." and gets back to work.
damn kid.
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doodleshrimps · 10 months
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"Call me (Call me) on the line Call me, call me any, anytime" --- What if I also fell in love with her too ?? These men- or rather ladies, have me swooning!!
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male anatomy is still hard to make, especially contorted one- Olive Me belongs to @ask-spiderpool
also due to the demand of THREE mices I could sell these recent drawings of buff men in feminine poses as prints( tho first I have to understand how inprnt works and be sure that the creator of the blog is okay with me selling prints of their characters-)
Og ref:
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silkscream · 3 months
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smut idea if you wanted options idk i live to serve (my liege) but stress fuck with peter bc uni is killing him and he’s on the streets every night and happy won’t get off his ass so when you crawl into his bed in just a t shirt and underwear he quite literally goes insane
18+ mdni!!!!!!!!!!!
god peter is so fucking pathetic. he barely has time to himself. barely has time to fucking breathe. yet, when he's alone -- when he knows that he'll at least be alone for the night -- he occupies his time by palming his cock at the thought of you. he thinks of your plump, pink mouth, how it circles his cock. how it sucks heart-shaped bruises on his neck and his broad chest.
and there's a night that he's free -- he means it loosely because he has to wake up the next morning to immediately volunteer. then, his schedule is packed with exam moderation, which he also volunteered for. he's busy as hell, and you'd gotten so used to it that you decided to occupy yourself without him. when you don't text back within five hours, he feels crushed.
but you don't leave him waiting for long. it's his night off, after all. you're excited to have him around in general. the two of you indulge in a marathon of your favorite tv show (you're mostly rewatching because peter had been too absent to watch the season with you, though you don't tell him this) and cooking dinner together. fulfilling his domestic fantasy, ravishing you in sweet kisses.
but peter also craves you in a way he can't say out loud. well, he can -- he's a big boy, he can tell his girlfriend that he wants to fuck her. but it's been a while, and the way you make your sleepytime tea and do your skincare routine discourages him from trying anything.
but then he watches you crawl into your bed with just a t-shirt -- his t-shirt -- and panties. he joins you, spooning you, though he's weary of the growing length that's probably prodding the back of your legs right now.
"want something, peter?" you tease.
he groans in frustration. he doesn't have the energy to play this game with you -- dancing around what he really wants. so he grasps you tightly, hands exploring your hips as he hovers over you. you're pliable underneath him, so soft and sweet.
peter wishes he had all the time in the world just so he could eat you out for hours. but he's been denying himself of you for weeks. he hasn't been able to be next to you in such a close capacity for weeks, either.
so he fucks you easily. there's no resistance -- you were wet by the time his bare cock was even prodding in between your folds. he still feels bad that he wasn't able to prep you (he really fucking wanted to eat you out), but you're still wet enough for him. the way you want him is enough.
peter has to pace himself, knowing that he might finish too quickly or hurt you in the process with his super strength. he drinks in your moans with his mouth, caressing your face with his calloused hands.
his hands have known blood and deep gashes. punches that would send his opponent across a parking lot. but now, his hands are gentle, just for you. he uses them to explore the softness of your body. he uses them to worship.
"love you, baby," he rasps weakly.
"love you, too," you coo. "cum inside me, please. wanna feel it."
and he does. he always does -- loves to listen to you and give you what you want. peter will cherish this moment until the next time he gets to be inside of you, even if the mission tomorrow is quick to finish. even if the mission tomorrow occupies him for days.
he'll come back crawling home to you. always.
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sciderman · 2 months
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Sci in the short time Uncle Ben was around -- or even if he'd lived longer -- would he have known that Peter is Spiderman?
this is such a delight of a question! what a delightful little thought experiment. thinking about a scenario where uncle ben was still around when aunt may finds out peter is spider-man – when she finds peter's tights, when he was seventeen.
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i think there's no way at all that aunt may wouldn't have told uncle ben. she definitely would have told him. i don't think uncle ben would've been observant enough to figure it out by himself, but – aunt may, she's smart. she figures it out.
may and ben have such entirely different ways of handling peter
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[x]
ben's old-fashioned, a bit square (like peter), and not very well-informed. he worries a lot about peter. worries about him getting into trouble. sees his unusual behaviour, and meets it with soft concern. he doesn't understand it all, he doesn't understand the youth. but he has a desire to embrace peter and attempt to understand him. he worries about him a lot.
may - may's always been the cool parent. she's encouraging, and very easy about this sort of thing. i think she has a lot of trust in peter. maybe more than she should. she is well-informed, and smart, and she recognises behaviours in peter and kind of feels like it's nothing to worry about. she knows peter's doing all the important exploration that he needs to do, and he'll do it at his own time. she thinks peter can handle it.
(of course peter could not handle it.)
i think that's why aunt may didn't confront peter about spider-man. i think she's of the feeling that peter would come out to her when he's ready to. but - she'd definitely tell ben. and if uncle ben knew - well, oh. he would be worried out of his mind.
god bless, it would come out of such a place of concern. and he'd talk to peter. in the most awkward way a father could give his son the talk.
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ask-spiderpool · 6 months
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literaila · 8 months
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your newest fic has woken something in me, verity. can i request nice sweet petter with mean!reader, who isn't actually mean ? but she just teases peter and flirts with him and leaves him tongue tied and peter is like "its cruel of you to make me fall in love with you". thank you, you're the best !
masochism
tasm!peter x reader
a/n: this means absolutely nothing. and everything.
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*
“peter,” you say, dryly, frowning as you set your bag on the chair next to you.
the library is usually empty this time of night. nothing but bookworms and tired librarians with their yawns to break the silence. but that’s how you like it.
that’s why you come this late. you don’t want to make small talk with a stranger asking if they can borrow one of your chairs. and you definitely do not want to get charm and pretty eyes all over you. it doesn’t come out.
“fancy seeing you here,” peter says, and he’s moving from his table to come and sit at yours. his papers are a mess and he doesn’t even blink when he almost drops a pen on the floor.
of course, he doesn’t even need an invitation because he’s peter parker.
“are you stalking me?”
“intentionally?” peter asks, and his smile is teasing and far too bright for the dark of this room. “no. it’s not my fault you always show up where i am. but i’m not complaining.”
“well, i am. i came here to study. alone.”
“and you got the pleasure of receiving my company instead. lucky you.”
you grunt but sit down anyway. even if you actually wanted him to leave, peter wouldn’t. he’s far too stubborn and shiny for that.
it was a mistake to take calculus in the first place, but it was a certifiable failure on your part that peter seemed to latch onto you. he was good at math (another red flag) and he liked to coo and you and your smudges and erase marks.
and he seemed to show up when you least expected it; like he wanted to give you a heart attack.
peter leans over the table, his hair falling over his eyes. “what’re you working on?”
“an essay.”
there’s a beat of silence, and peter laughs. “about…” he ducks his head, eyes teasing and smile incandescent. and irritating.
“the probability of committing homicide in libraries at eleven pm,” you tap a pen against his forehead, pushing him back.
“always at your service.”
“why are you here?” you ask him. “don’t you have babies you need to swaddle? old women you need to fond over you?”
“pfft,” peter says, leaning back, looking far too comfortable. “i already did that today. plus it’s a wednesday night, and the visiting hours at the nursing home end at eight.”
you nod understandingly. “well, unless you want to become apart of my research study, shoo.” you wave him away.
he only laughs. “but i haven’t seen you in almost a week. you’re not taking calculus b.”
peter is wearing a mock pout. his eyes are glowing in the three foot distance between you. and the smirk on his face is only a harsh reminder of how much you hate him. his hair is curled at the edges and it’s brushed across the top of his forehead. his teeth are straight and white.
and you can see when he swallows.
“oh you mean bodily torture part two? yeah, no, i figured i’d go with the classic bondage exposé class this semester.”
peter clears his throat, chuckling, and you watch as his cheeks tinge with pink.
“you’ve taken that class, haven’t you, peter?”
“haven’t had the opportunity, no.”
“well, if you never need a quick lesson…” you whisper, voice sultry and on the edge of manic laughter. watching peter squirm in his seat almost makes up for the lack of studying going on right now.
“good to know.”
you purse your lips at him, making an effort not to laugh.
while this conversation has headed into unfound territory, you’ve managed to pull out your notes and turn on your computer, making peter a little more than an object in the distance.
but not peter spins your computer around, illuminating his face, and frowning as he stares at the screen.
“this is a blank document,” he says.
“what wonderful observation skills you have.”
“your name isn’t even at the top.”
you steal the computer back, scowling. “i’m working on it.”
“oh, are you?”
“you’re distracting me,” you hiss at him, eyes glaring and heart burning as he smiles back.
peter is too smiley. he’s too effortlessly calm. too much for you, and too much for this entire library.
“oh, i’m distracting you?” he repeats, shaking his head. “that’s priceless.”
“i’m not sure what you’re implying.”
“i’m saying,” peter whispers, “that you’re the one talking to me about bondage while i’m trying to make pleasant conversation—“
“oh, i’m so sorry,” you interrupt, hand going to your chest in mock sympathy. “it just seemed like something you’d be in to.”
peter snorts. “really?”
“if the rope fits,” you say back, looking away from him and counting to ten.
you need lessons in holding your tongue. lessons in how to respond when someone smiles at you like there’s nothing else they’d rather be smiling at.
“that’s not funny,” peter says, but his lips are curled.
“then why are you laughing?”
“i like riling you up,” he says, “it’s very amusing.”
“you just called yourself a tease. you’re not even trying to hide it now,” you point out.
your computer dims because you haven’t touched it in the last three minutes.
“that would make you the masochist, wouldn’t it? since you’re the one enduring my teasing?”
“is this your idea of foreplay, peter?”
“is it working?”
you hadn’t even realized that you were leaning in with him. just a couple more inches and you’d be nose to nose.
you smile at him, undeterred by his proximity—at least, mostly—pretty and sweet. “why don’t you come over here and find out.”
peter tuts. “don’t say things you don’t mean, bub.”
“who says i don’t mean it?”
you’re mostly teasing him. mostly trying to get him to move as far away from you ask possible before you wrap your hands around his neck and either strangle him or kiss him until he wants to strangle you.
but finally, peter leans back, sighing. “you’re driving me insane, you know that?”
you shrug. “you’re the one stalking me.”
you look away from him, pulling your computer closer to you, and tapping on the keys to wake it up.
“i wouldn’t have to stalk you if you would just accept my offer to go to dinner.”
“i’m not really a dinner person,” you say, licking your lips while you purposefully avoid his gaze.
“coffee, then. or a trip to the schools gift shop. i’ll buy you a sweater.”
“mmm… i’m not really a peter person.”
“now that’s just mean,” he says, but you can hear him smiling. you can feel him watching you, his eyes burning circles into your skin.
it’s a pleasant warmth, though.
“i know,” you drawl, looking up at him. “and you still won’t leave me alone.”
peter sighs, shrugging, and he’s smiling while he looks at you. “maybe i’m the masochist.”
you try not to laugh and fail.
*
part two
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