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#Tom Holland smut
shawnxstyles · 1 year
Text
panty stealer
DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023
summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.
request: yes!
words: 5.1k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.
note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2
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“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.
“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”
peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.
the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.
like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?
people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.
peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.
he did, right?
brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.
peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.
flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.
speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.
“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.
“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.
“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?
“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”
“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.
peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.
“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”
peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.
soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.
“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”
peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”
“oh, you’re so in for it.”
so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.
peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?
“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.
“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”
“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.
“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.
their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?
for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.
unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.
when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.
it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.
peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.
“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.
your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.
“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”
“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.
besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.
he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.
usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.
“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”
“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.
poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.
flash deserved it, though.
brad is probably getting one of their numbers.
peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.
“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.
“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.
how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.
peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.
“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?
“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.
“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”
your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.
“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”
“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.
“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.
he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.
he would say some of his confidence is back now.
he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.
peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.
“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”
“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?
his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.
“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.
“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”
you shake your head.
“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.
“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.
“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.
“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.
he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.
peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.
he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.
the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.
his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.
“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.
peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.
“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”
peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.
your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.
“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.
“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”
you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.
“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”
you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.
“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.
“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.
hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.
“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.
slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.
“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.
“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”
if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.
there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.
that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.
his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.
“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.
“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”
with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.
summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.
you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.
you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.
a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.
when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.
“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”
“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”
peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.
“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.
“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.
“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.
“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?
“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.
“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.
you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.
you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.
“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.
suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.
“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.
with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.
“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.
rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.
so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.
as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.
oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.
what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.
tags: @raajali3
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p3terparker · 11 months
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𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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silkscream · 1 year
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angel unaware
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ꨄ︎ pairing: peter parker x silk!reader
ꨄ︎ synopsis: you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.
ꨄ︎ genres: best friends to lovers, angst, idiots in love, slowburn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort
ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), alcohol usage, mention of drug usage, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), characters are 19, mild violence, gun violence (there is a school shooting in the beginning but there aren't too many details)
ꨄ︎ wc: 13.8k
ꨄ︎ notes: omg. happy valentine’s day y’all. i’ve been working on this Big Bertha for literal MONTHS and i’m so happy to finish it and share it with you. thank you for being around even though i haven’t been the most active; this is a gift to you <3
ꨄ︎ listen to the playlist!
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The spider bit you first.
It isn’t until you’re fifteen that someone else finds out about it.
In many ways, you should’ve known. The symptoms, the hypervigilance, the strange, gradual transition of filling out your body. You blame puberty first, but this feels more than abnormal. It's almost as if it's bursting through your skin. The only other person who seems to mirror your coming of age is Peter Parker, whose twitchy nature exacerbates the longer high school goes on.
You keep your head low because there’s no reason for you to tell anyone about your powers. Not even the boy about whom you’re positive shares the same curse as you.
But then the videos come out. Red and blue lycra flying through buildings, a blurred figure saving cats from trees, webs shooting and swaying as onlookers stare like it’s a circus act. He calls himself Spider-man and you think it’s awfully corny.
You’d be a fool to think that you were safe from the antics of Avengers propaganda, rubble, and ash blocking your way to school on more days than not. You’d be a fool to think that you could evade the classic tropes of American violence that force the president to lament about "unthinkable tragedies" multiple times a year. At this moment, you’re a fool for getting yourself locked in a janitor’s closet while there’s an active shooter at Midtown High.
Your breath hitches when the doorknob jangles in front of you. On instinct, you stick yourself to the ceiling, far in the corner with your senses on fire. You’ve never actually had to attack anyone before. You aren’t entirely sure how this would play out with a gun involved.
Peter Parker’s labored breaths fill your eardrums, and without thinking, you shoot your webs directly at him. He stumbles, clumsily tripping over an empty mop bucket. He looks up at you in confusion. He’s wearing half of his suit.
"You. You just–"
"Shut the fuck up," you hiss, covering his mouth with your palm. In the darkness, your eyes widen. Someone is near.
It’s a stupid ordeal. The crime happening, this meet-cute, the way your senses feel haywire being this close to him. Both of you are holding your breath, your heart is pounding erratically in your chest, and blood is rushing through your ears.
The day ends with you and Peter making it out of the closet through a vent and the shooter getting subdued by the police. A troubled sophomore who barely knew how to use the gun in the first place made it easy for Spider-man to intercept the weapon the moment the kid raised his arms.
Peter follows you home that afternoon like a stray cat, babbling over a game of twenty questions that you aren’t in the mood to entertain. Somehow, his presence leaves your chest feeling warm and light, and you realize that you don’t mind the company. Twenty questions become routine.
He’s the only one who gets it, of course.
He tells you about the Avengers, ignoring the way you scoff under your breath. Secretly, you’re only a little jealous. Not because you want that kind of prestige or even a fancy suit, but because at least there’s a group of freaks out there who know.  "How come you didn’t tell me?" Peter asks you. He looks small on your couch despite his sixteen-year-old sleeper build and the fact that he’s taking up more than half of your space.
"What do you mean?"
"If you knew about Spider-Man this whole time… why didn’t you say something?"
"What, like I was supposed to seek you out on the street with a mask on?"
He gives you a pointed look. "You had a feeling about me. In school. Didn’t you?"
You don’t answer, which, to Peter, is an answer in itself.
"I didn’t want to be any trouble. It’s my burden to deal with," you say slowly, blinking up at him.
Burden. Peter smooths the word over in his mind and watches the way your nimble fingers pick at the threads of your sweater. He suddenly feels guilty for pestering you with questions, especially after the trauma of today.
"It’s not a burden," he says carefully. You don’t protest, but he knows there’s a certain level of repression inside you that won't let you give this part of yourself up. As if his knowing about your powers would only be that — knowing. He keeps staring at your fingers.
"You don’t have web shooters?" He gestures to your hands.
"Comes from my fingertips."
"No fucking way. You gotta show me."
"You saw it today," you chuckle as you take a breath.
"Not really," he pouts. The amber-brown of his eyes is annoyingly irresistible, and you know it because of how hot the back of your neck suddenly feels. There’s a hint of a taunting smile on his face, as if he knows.
You take him to the fire escape outside your bedroom window. It’s barely past five and it’s already gotten dark. Luckily, your bedroom faces an empty alley.
"I’m not some circus act, just so you know," you warn him.
"Please," he tuts. "If anything, we both are. Two arachno-freaks."
"You should rebrand as that," you say with a grin.
You shoot a web to the fire escape railing above you, holding yourself up and swinging like you're in P.E. climbing a rope. You feel ridiculous, to say the least. You quickly shoot more webs after a quick scan of your surroundings to swaddle yourself in something resembling a cocoon. It hangs like a playground swing from the metal above.
"Holy shit! Does it ever… run out? Do you get web blocks? Does it come out of anywhere else–"
"I’m not answering that." Your cheeks heat up at the insinuation.
"Sorry, just curious." He holds his palms up in defense, then reaches to touch a fingertip to the silk holding you together. It feels soft like cotton candy and is much less sticky than what came out of his web shooters.
He asks you to swing with him, and for some reason, you say yes. You don’t like to swing very much, and if you do, you try to look for construction sites or abandoned scaffolding to evade attention. Tonight, however, the New York City lights look warm against the velvety backdrop of the sky, and you decide that flying through the air with someone else feels better than doing it alone.
____
He doesn’t understand your desire to stay under the radar. Whenever he brings it up, you take the opportunity to bring up the New York City disasters that have gone underway before the two of you even graduate. If anything, you’ve been a decent backup, but you refuse to be in the public eye. You don’t want to be Spider-girl.
But you don’t mind swinging around the city in your handmade suit, spun and woven together with the silk that flows straight from your fingertips. It’s one thing that Peter’s jealous of, but it helps him when he needs to patch up a wound when he’s on the go with you.
Peter comes through your window with a red gash on his thigh. You can smell him before you see him.
"Ugh, you broke the streak. Five days without a scratch. That’s a record for you, Parker," you sigh, already rummaging through your drawers for the usual first-aid kit.
"I’m fine." He winces as he crouches down carefully on the floor. You’ve gotten good at minding your business and not asking about his wounds, at least not ones that aren’t too deep into the flesh. He knows it would only hurt you if you knew.
"And yet you’re here."
"I wanted to see you. You know I always want to see you."
You open your mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. You kneel before him, pouring hydrogen peroxide onto the gash as you dab gently with a hand towel. He hisses and grabs your forearm with more force than he intends to.
"You’ll be fine," you reassure him gently.
"Yeah. I could've done it, you know," he says as he carefully holds your gaze.
"‘S’fun sometimes," you reply without looking at him. Carefully, you wrap gauze around his leg. "When I was little, my neighbor and I used to play House, but it always turned into, like… Hospital. And I’d pretend to be a nurse and take care of her, I’d tuck her into bed, and I’d give her lollipops from my Halloween stash for being a good patient."
Peter chuckles. He wobbles slightly as he stands up with your help.
"Am I a good patient?"
"Mm. A very brave boy," you say as you pat his cheek.
"What, I don’t get a treat?"
"Your treat is staying alive." You take him by the wrist towards your living room couch.
He doesn’t know what he’d do without you. It’s not right for him to think of you as an extension of himself, but he often yearns for your presence like a phantom limb whenever you aren’t on patrol with him. He realizes you're the yin to his yang.
It excites him, the images of you two that end up on the Internet. How good you look together. You, on the other hand, dread any semblance of perception by the world.
"People are catching on, you know. Ned found a subreddit on you the other day," Peter murmurs into your lap.
You snort, rolling your eyes the way you always do. You fiddle with the soft strands of his hair. It’s second nature to you. "Ned needs to reduce his screen time tenfold."
"Rabbit."
You sigh dramatically at the nickname. He’d adopted it after the many jumpscares he’d give you when he’d sneak into your room at night. You’d become so accustomed to him that your spider-sense would dull when it came to Peter. He was your source of comfort.
"What, Pete?"
"Why don’t you patrol with me?"
"You know why." It’s too stressful. Too public. Too many run-ins with death that you can anticipate.
"It’s better when you’re around."
"You’re a big boy, Peter," you murmur. Your hand slides across his scalp again, this time with your fingertips settling in the space behind his ears. You aren’t looking at him; instead, you are watching the documentary on the television at a low volume. He crumples at your touch.
"May says you’re my guardian angel. Every time something really bad has happened, it always worked out because you were there."
"I mean, it probably helps when you have another Spider-person as a backup."
"I think she’s right, though."
You don’t say anything. You’re tempted to reply with something sardonic or self-deprecating. You put too much faith in me. But you can’t – he’s looking at you with something that you can’t fathom. Something earnest and entirely too fragile. You have to look away.
He hums, sighing into a tattered copy of Hamlet. "I can’t deal with any more Shakespeare."
"You’re such a slow reader despite being a goddamn genius."
"Did you just say something nice about me?" Peter raises a brow.
"Oh my God, relax, Big Bang Theory."
He scoffs and swallows down a smart-ass remark. A grin lingers in his mouth as he settles back into the book.
____
You’re apart from Peter for the first time since age sixteen. You don’t tell him – you don’t tell anyone – but you decide on an out-of-state university because you don’t want to feel tethered to him. Your friends consider you and Peter a package deal, and yes, he’s probably the first real best friend you’ve ever had, but the gnawing inside of you telling you that distance is needed doesn’t stop.
You, the black sheep, are the antithesis of your hero of a best friend, despite being bitten by the same spider. You’ve always wondered if your story was supposed to play out like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy because of your bond with Peter, so you decide to take your mind off of it. At least it won’t be as painful as severing it completely.
It feels free to be away from all the chaos. In Rhode Island, you can focus on your art and fold your feelings away in a neat little envelope. You’d rather die than let any of that out, especially when Peter insists on such frequent FaceTime calls.
Sometimes, you fall asleep to the sound of his voice. He tells you about taking a train down to Providence in the middle of September to visit you like some kind of long distance boyfriend. The thought makes something in your stomach bloom and stagger in the same way. He doesn’t keep his promise – chem labs are already kicking his ass halfway to Thanksgiving break, not to mention the crime rate in New York City rockets beyond normal.
Thanksgiving comes, and both of you are the same. Peter is exactly as boyish as you left him three months ago, though his brown hair has grown longer and he wears blue-light readers to help with the mild headaches he gets from staring at screens.
He isn't attached to your hip like you expected. Your week off is filled with missed texts and a marathon of TV shows about broken women—the kind with dark humor and falling in love with priests.
The next time you see him, your roommate is out of town. It's not an unusual occurrence given how little she spends time in the dorm, always elsewhere with her new boyfriend.
Peter takes up so much space in your bed that you almost offer to push the two twin beds together, but the feeling of his warmth is too comforting. Propped against the wall, you’re hip-to-hip with him as you scroll through Netflix on your laptop.
You can feel him staring. It becomes routine, or maybe it’s your senses, but you can always tell when he’s merely observing you, watching you carefully like ripples on a pond. You've never really chastised him about it, but it doesn't help that you know he can tell when you're nervous. He has you memorized.
He likes the way you look when you concentrate. Sometimes, when you’re deep in thought, he likes to take his thumb and smooth out the ridges of your furrowed brows even though you end up swatting him away. When he does this now, you look up at him with wide, doe eyes.
"Still as indecisive as ever."
"I have to be, otherwise you’ll just put on Gilmore Girls," you scoff.
"You’re the one who showed me that!" Peter protests.
"And then it was the only thing you wanted to watch to the point where I genuinely considered locking you out of my Netflix account!"
He doesn’t bother to argue, instead resorting to poking you in the side. You squirm immediately, yelping as he continues. He flashes you a leering grin as you whine in dissent, flinching from the feather-like touch of his fingertips dancing across your skin.
"You’re so annoying," you huff, curling your body toward the wall.
"And you love it."
More than you’d ever know.
You pause, rolling your eyes at him. You contemplate kicking him again just to get a rise out of him, anything other than the short silence between you that feels more present than it should be. Your stomach feels warm at his proximity, but then again, Peter’s built like a human furnace anyway.
When you attempt to playfully shove him, he catches your wrist with quick reflexes until the two of you are tangled together. It’s easy to fight with him when you’re both running off the same biological fuel. When he ends up on top of you, you forget how to breathe.
The two of you stare at each other like this, as if frozen in time. It’s you who looks away first, then back to his big brown eyes, settling a palm to his cheek. You can feel how hard he is. You wonder if he knows.
It’s something you’ve only thought about in your subconscious, in dreams, or in moments when you’re bandaging his wounds. How would it feel to have his skin all over yours? It’s a selfish thought, but it rings in your brain without warning at times like these, times of such closeness. The spider bit the two of you for a reason. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.
It’s a curious thing for sure, but there are doors you don’t want to open yet.  
"One episode and then I pick a movie," you mumble.
____
You don’t tell him about transferring when you come back for Christmas break. It feels embarrassing, despite knowing that he’d be ecstatic about the news. RISD proved to be too difficult for your one-track mind as you found yourself sleeping in more and more, flaking on the most rigorous of classes due to your mood. You’d successfully gotten into Pratt for the next semester and were fully moved out, thankfully. But when you see Peter in the arms of another, you wish you hadn't left.
You should’ve expected it, maybe. Peter had always had a thing for Michelle Jones but could never quite get past the friend zone. It seems as though your absence has nudged him further.
No, that feels too selfish to say.
But it’s still too difficult to bear in the loneliness of December, knowing that when the New Year’s parties hit, you’re still the black sheep. Even in a shiny little dress.
You don’t see him much over winter break, but he gets you a silver necklace for Christmas with a spider pendant hanging on it. It’s more sentimental than you expect, and it’s the nicest gift you’ve ever received. It certainly beats the Lego set you’d gotten for him.
Now, in your black cocktail dress, you smile dopily at Ned Leeds as the rest of the room counts down at the television, waiting for the ball to drop. It’s bittersweet when you remember last year’s countdown, in which Peter insisted the two of you swung out to Manhattan to watch the ball drop in person. You remember how much you wanted to kiss him then, but you didn’t. Thank God for his hero's anonymity and the impediment of his suit.
"Five, four, three, two, one – Happy New Year!"
Makeshift confetti falls to the ground as you watch him and MJ kiss. There’s enough champagne in your system for your heart to grow warm at the sight of it.  
____
January is cold. Desolate. Even if you have your friends around you in New York, the place that feels most like home, you’ve come to realize. But there’s still something missing, something lacking. Like you’re inside a familiar place inside a dream.
You ignore the itch, learning to numb it with champagne. It worked on New Year’s, and now it’s been working for several weeks. You don’t leave your apartment.
Even though Peter Parker is a text or phone call away, you fade into the background of his life, watching him through newsreels and YouTube videos. You’re on his mind more than you’d expect. He doesn’t know why, though he does realize that your absence bothers him in small ways.
Sometimes, when he’s on patrol, he’s frustrated by his loneliness, especially in the dead of winter. You were never one to play the hero – he knew that – but it was still comforting to have someone to patch up his wounds or soften his fall. The webs that flow from your fingertips have always been strong, enough to form hammocks in between the corners of his bedroom or a makeshift suit.
And then there are the dreams. They feel real, vivid, and much too physical for something that his mind could conjure in his unconscious. You had only kissed him once before (in real life, that is), at a stupid basement party in the ninth grade, before the two of you were friends, but shortly after the initial spider bite. Although it’s something that’s only been brought up as a joke these past few years, Peter remembers vividly how hard his heart was pounding when the glass bottle landed on you after what felt like an excruciatingly long spin. He could never forget the feeling. He wonders if you feel the same.
It’s not something he should be thinking about right now. Especially when you’re not his girlfriend. He’d rather die a thousand deaths than have you know what you do to him in his dreams when you’re nothing but a reverie of your own silk-spun webs and soft, bare skin. You treat him like prey. He loves it.
Peter can nearly smell you, that sandalwood-citrus shampoo of yours, and your warm breath over his face. Your little whispers of praise, your tiny whimpers. The image of your eyes struggling to stay open while you’re underneath him is burned into his brain.
"I missed you," you say breathlessly. "Missed you so much."
God, how is this a dream? He can feel you so clearly. Until he doesn't, and he wakes up with a groan, an exhale, and an excess of sweat on his brow. Not to mention a dampness below him.
"Fucking Christ," he curses under his breath.
The ghost of you is on his bedroom ceiling, in the corner of his room. Something nearby smells like you, even though you haven’t been in his room in ages. This makes something in his chest hurt until he decides to get out of bed.
He wants to see you, but he feels guilty knowing what he's just dreamt about. He can’t help that the person that makes him feel the most human is the only other one who shares the venom in his blood.
Sometimes he follows you. It feels almost meditative for him to sit on a rooftop and watch you from the window of your favorite cafe, reading and writing and breathing. The brightness of his phone screen illuminates his face as his eyes scan over your contact. Your face smiles back at him, but there’s a distance considering the lack of texts between the two of you over the past month. He sighs as he zooms in on your location – the two of you had shared each others’ years ago and only found it convenient to keep.
Peter doesn’t know why he’s feeling all this yearning all of a sudden – sometimes he recognizes the feeling in his body and he thinks of you and he thinks of safety. Other times, like now, he knows that it only breeds guilt.
But he misses being quiet with you, misses the mundane intimacies of him poking you and you fixing his hair. All the small expressions you make with your face that only he notices. There’s something empty in the space he usually holds for you in his heart, and he doesn’t know why.
He has to see you. Maybe then, something in his brain will click, or he’ll see you as the old friend you’ve always been, and he can blame the heat in his body on his subconscious.
You’re predictable with your routine, because this afternoon, he finds you in your usual spot by the window at your favorite cafe again. You’re writing in your journal with your noise-canceling headphones on, so Peter’s presence is completely unknown to you. After he gets his coffee, he watches you from afar, just for a little bit.
As if on cue, you already know. The moment you skip a song and a millisecond of silence fills the space in your head, you feel him immediately. You always know when he’s around.
"Peter," you murmur without thinking. Your gaze is soft but carries the surprise of a deer caught in headlights.
"Hey," he smiles. "Mind if I sit here?"
He gestures to the armchair across from you, and you nod.
Peter knows how to coax your warmth from you, because within minutes, he has you talking about school, what’s on your mind, and why it feels better to be holed up in a cafe than sit miserably at home. You do the same for him, though you notice he’s more reserved for some reason – he’s tight-lipped about MJ, and doesn’t delve into the details of his hero work. He prefers to bombard you with questions instead, listening intently to your most recent fixations or the newest movie you saw alone in theaters.
"You replaced me yet, Rabbit?" he teases you.
"Never," you scoff, tipping your coffee cup to hide any embarrassment on your face. You haven’t heard him call you that in so long. "You know me. I’m a lone wolf."
"Pratt seems like your crowd though, no? No one at Midtown High was a match for you. You were way too cool."
"Mmm, true, yet you’re my best friend."
"Hey!"
Your laugh is like a song to him; he can’t help but smile ear to ear when he hears it.
"The only person who talks to me at school is this guy Cam from my ceramics class. He’s actually from Brooklyn so we took the train together to get home and he’s around for break, which is cool."
Peter’s face nearly goes cold at the sound of someone else’s name, though he stays composed.
"Fun. Are you two…" He gestures vaguely.
"We hooked up like, once, but I don’t really know where it’s going." You say it so nonchalantly like it’s an afterthought. You’re not even looking at Peter.
"If he fucks anything up, you know where to find me."
You smile, rolling your eyes in that bashful way you do when you shrug things off, and it’s more apparent to Peter now how much he adores all your little quirks and mannerisms. He realizes that he might have them all memorized.
"We’re actually going to a party tonight if you want to come. A friend of a friend’s birthday party in Manhattan, I think? I think her name was Anna?"
"Oh, my friend Gwen knows her and invited me!"
"Small world." You swallow down the image of Peter at the party with an ESU girl for a second, and it feels rough in your throat. But you’ll manage. You always do. "Is MJ coming?"
Peter shakes his head. "Ah, she’s in Philly visiting family. I’ll probably go with Gwen and her boyfriend Harry, though."
You feel shame in your relief. It’s sickening how much you have to bury your desire and your tenderness because you know better. You know that even though the two of you were bitten by the same spider, it doesn’t mean you’re necessarily compatible. Sometimes you think your attraction to Peter is some biological fluke determined by the cells in both of your bodies. And then you think, God, how can anyone look into his brown eyes and not feel a thing?
You're both warm in your chests as you part ways, waiting for your next meeting.
____
The night of the party, Peter revels in the sight of you wearing your spider necklace, which sparkles under the flashing lights of the penthouse apartment you’re both in. His mood dampens when he notices the tall boy attached to your hip like a guard dog.
It’s a stupid game and he knows it. The way he pretends not to see you or acknowledge your presence is cruel, but it feels safe for now. He doesn’t feel ready. He’s high off some gummy that Harry had given him an hour earlier, and it’s still fogging his senses, and even though he can be cloudy and nonchalant at this party, his paranoia precedes him. It feels like you’re everywhere.
He shouldn’t feel this way. Why does he feel this way? You’re his best friend and you have your own life that’s separate from his – he knew this would happen the moment he found out you were going to different colleges. Despite that, there’s a piece of you tethered to him that he can’t bear to cut off. It makes him feel sane, the parts of you that you’ve given him.
But now, he sees you laughing and swaying your hips with someone else’s hands resting on your waist and it makes his face burn.
"Dude," Gwen snaps her fingers in front of his face. Peter blinks back at her. "Are you good?"
"Yeah, sorry."
"Harry wanted to do a shot, you want to join?"
Peter nods numbly, following the blonde to the kitchen. He watches everyone else in the kitchen pour shots and drinks like they are rehearsed marionettes. Harry snaps him out of his daze once he slams down a shot glass full of vodka in front of him.
"Drink up, Parker!" Harry cheers.
The alcohol burns Peter’s throat, but he feels the head rush and the warmth. It feels good, makes him feel looser. Malleable. Invincible, maybe, if he took two or three more. But he knows he has to pace himself. He hates that his default setting is to look for you no matter where he is. But when he scans the room this time, you’re downing a glass of champagne alone.
Your body feels heavy at the moment, so you don’t register him plopping down on the couch next to you. You wake up to the sound of his voice as you always do.
"Hey, you."
"Hey."
Your glass of champagne is empty, so you take the beer bottle out of Peter’s hand without saying a word, and he lets you. He watches you gulp a bit of it down. Maybe you’re a little too drunk. Maybe you’re imagining the way his eyes scan your body.
You’re drunk enough to feel social, but truthfully, you’re deathly afraid of being alone with anyone right now. Being alone with someone would make you feel much too raw and vulnerable, so you convince Peter to introduce you to his friends that you’ve never met, and you try to cope with the fact that they look like they were cut straight out of a magazine.
"Peter talks about you all the time," Gwen gushes, sipping from her champagne flute.
"He does?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course," she nods incessantly.
"Only incredible reviews all around," Harry nods, drunkenly slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulders. The brunette smiles sheepishly, bashfully. You raise an eyebrow at him along with a coy smile.
"Should hope so," you tease. "He wouldn’t have gotten through high school without me."
It’s mostly a lie considering Peter was the star student and you were barely second to him. Maybe fifth or sixth. In a way, your words are true, because Peter’s agreeing with you.
You zone out as he starts a story from junior year and you have half the mind to chime in when needed. Harry suddenly puts a whisky coke in your hand and you don’t want to refuse out of politeness, but you know the mix of different alcohol will have your head banging in the morning. Peter downs half of his within a millisecond.
"What?" he asks when he notices you making a face.
"Since when do you drink so much?"
"It’s a party," he shrugs.
"Peter, when I brought you to your first party, you refused to drink anything that wasn’t a fruity canned cocktail. You won’t go near wine let alone whiskey."
"A semester at ESU changes you," Harry interjects. "He’s still a little fruity, though."
Peter chastises him as you and Gwen laugh. As the boys bicker, Gwen gets your attention. She asks you mundane questions, like your major, your zodiac sign, and what you thought of the season finale of White Lotus. You’re grateful when she beckons you to follow her to the kitchen to make another whiskey coke.
Her glossed lips twist to the side, eyes bright with a teasing glance. She has the ability to make you feel calm, almost excited to be there.
"He is obsessed with you," she sneers.
"What do you mean?"
"He just talked about you so much when we met him that I had to stalk your Insta, and I was like Jesus Christ, that makes so much sense. If I wasn’t with Harry I’d snatch you up myself. And then when I met his girlfriend and I was confused that it wasn’t you. Unless you’re doing that, like, exes-that-are-still-best-friends thing."
You blush and nearly choke on your drink. "Peter and I never dated."
"Seriously?"
You say nothing, only forcing an amused smile. You don’t know where to put her assumptions, but you sure as hell can’t keep them.
"I’m actually, uh, here with someone," you mutter, pretending to look around. Briefly, you lock eyes with Peter on the couch, who’s pretending to listen to Harry's rambling. Your eyes flit away quickly. "I think I might step outside for a smoke and look for him."
You don’t have to turn around to know that Peter’s eyes are following you. Or maybe you’re just drunk and projecting. Gwen’s bubbly nature makes her seem like the type to gossip, and just because your best friend happened to talk about you doesn’t mean that there was anything under the surface. But then you notice his slightly nervous energy tonight, the silver necklace around your neck, and the last time he visited you months before, when his body was so close to yours.
A pair of hands situate themselves on your waist and it makes you jump. The warmth feels different, as does the sudden smell of sharp cologne, and then you feel your heart drop the slightest bit when you hear his voice.
"Was looking for you," Cam slurs. You can smell the beer breath as he exhales on your neck, making you shiver.
"You sure? Because you’ve been MIA for like forty-five minutes."
You try to keep your voice even, sighing when he plants a kiss on your neck. Any animosity in your tone is completely ignored.
"I was catching up with some people that I wanted to introduce you to," he says, tugging you along by the wrist like a child. You pull up a chair to a firepit surrounded by a group of strangers, and the charade of icebreakers returns. There’s no point in remembering anyone’s name.
You think about returning inside to look for Peter or maybe Gwen and Harry, but being on Cam’s lap is distracting you. At some point, a joint a passed around, and the feeling of the boy’s arms around you makes it easy to melt into nothing.
____
You’re right. You always are. Peter Parker doesn’t drink, and he’s never drunk this much in his entire life. He’s been sitting in the bathtub for… how long? He doesn’t know. All he knows is that his senses were dulled to the point of detachment and he needed to get alone to ground himself.
He’s so out of it that he doesn’t realize someone’s knocking on the door of the bathroom, and his reaction time is too slow before Harry barges in.
"Are you hiding in the bathtub?" Harry squints.
"No, I’m just… hangin’ out," Peter stammers.
Harry snaps out of the facade of a confused daze and shrugs, unbuckling his belt with nonchalance in front of the toilet.
"Dude!"
"What? I’m turned around!"
Sighing, Peter looks around his surroundings. Generic brand shampoo and conditioner. A deformed bar of soap. A red solo cup with clear liquid. He remembers suddenly – he’d filled an empty cup he found with sink water before getting in the tub.
His brain swims with dizziness and mild nausea that mix up his stomach. Gulping down the water, his throat burns immediately, only to realize that it isn’t water at all. It’s fucking vodka and seltzer. Harry’s turned around again, cackling before washing his hands.
"Idiot."
"Fuckingshitjesusfuckingchrist," Peter groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should just drink straight vodka at this point, man."
"Oh, I do," Harry agrees. He crouches down, squatting to meet Peter at eye level. A warm palm taps Peter’s cheek. "You good, bro?"
"Mmm," Peter nods. His breathing turns shallow as he hunches over, pulling his knees into his chest.
"Jesus, you need to get home, don’t you?"
"‘m fine. You go home."
"Gwen’s been nagging me to for the past ten minutes, so I might. I’d let you crash on the couch, but we’re getting up early to go upstate. How are you getting home, bro?"
Harry frowns when he realizes Peter is barely listening. "Pete!"
He grimaces at Harry’s constant fidgeting. With an annoyed sigh, he shoos the other boy away with flailing arms.
"Heard you," he slurs. "I’ll– I’ll share an Uber with Y/N."
Harry sighs with exasperation, pulling Peter’s arm forcefully to get him out of the tub and down to the living room of the house. Peter is dizzy in his vision, clumsy in his movements, but finds clarity when he glances towards the couch and sees you sitting there with furrowed brows.
"Peter? Are you okay?" you ask.
"Yeah, absolutely not," Harry says. "Gwen and I gotta head home and we’re leaving early tomorrow so he can’t crash. You guys are like, neighbors, right?"
You swallow a lump in your throat, briefly turning your head to glance back at Cam, then back at Peter. He looks at you with a guilty cadence, though his eyes lull with a tiredness that is unusual for him. He’s corpse-like, still hanging onto Harry’s shoulder like a lifeline. It makes the pit of your stomach stir.
It’s unlike him, to be this drunk. The only other time Peter has been this drunk was once in high school, when he was slurring his words all night and determined to clutch you like a teddy bear in his twin-sized bed. You recall his warmth and how his post-puberty figure appeared gargantuan to your body. Foreign, but warm. Comforting. When you think about taking Peter home tonight, you feel like you aren’t allowed to lay next to a body that doesn’t belong to you.
"Yeah, I’ll take him home."
____
"Coulda swung home myself," the boy mumbles. You hit him on the arm and give him a chastising look. Thankfully, your current Uber driver speaks a limited amount of English, not to mention the radio is on blast.
"You couldn’t have. You’re so fucking drunk, you’d kill yourself," you hiss in a low tone.
"Not if you were with me."
"Well, I wouldn’t be. I wasn’t even gonna go home tonight."
"Ah. Of course. Cam,” he exasperates. “Is he your boyfriend?"
You sigh. "No, he’s not."
"Right, you don’t… you don’t do boyfriends," Peter murmurs, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing."
The car stops in front of Peter’s apartment building.
"Thank you," you say stiffly to the Uber driver as you drag Peter out of the car. The elevator ride is awkward and quiet, as is the fumbling of keys when Peter tries to unlock the door.
He leans on your body as you coerce him into his bedroom, with him thumping onto his bottom bunk.
"Jesus. I feel like if Richie Rich called you an Uber himself you could’ve easily made it up the elevator by yourself. Right, Pete?"
"Mhmm. He’s such. A worry wart. For some rea–" Peter makes a gulping sound that makes your face pale. Immediately, you grab his trash bin and place it between his feet.
"‘m not gonna puke."
"I think you might, Peter."
He pauses and examines you as you kneel in front of him. He’s so drunk, so awfully drunk, but he has enough sense in him to take the caution that the anxious voice in the back of his head commands. But fuck, you look so pretty. He doesn’t know what to do about it.
Peter takes a strand of your hair in his hands and curls it around his finger. His shallow breaths feel louder than they should be. Or maybe they’re yours. He can’t really tell.
"What?"
"Nothing," he shrugs. "I won’t vomit. I promise."
You sigh.
"I should get going–"
"Can you stay for a little?"
Swallowing, you nod. You get into bed with him, because, quite frankly, you’ve had your fair share of alcohol tonight, and laying down in Peter’s warm bed makes you want to melt off the bone.
"I'm sorry for fucking up your night." Peter turns to lie on his side and drapes an arm carefully around you. His hand is feather-bare on your hip.
"You didn’t."
"You were gonna go home with Cam."
"It’s fine, Peter. I wanted to make sure you were safe."
"Like a chore."
"Not like a chore."
"Yeah, okay."
He does that thing again – holds a strand of your hair in his hands. He runs his fingertips nimbly across your scalp as if he’s handling an injured bird. As if he’s afraid you’d bite.
Your eyes are huge, like flying saucers. He used to say that all the time, especially whenever you came to his apartment after experimenting with any new drugs. You only felt safe with him – you had told him that – and he took care of you and your big eyes and your tendencies toward erratic behavior. He always knew how to calm you down. And now, in your adult lives, you were doing it for him.
You let him keep his hands in your hair and he doesn’t know why. There’s a theory he wants to test – one that he dreams about even when he knows he shouldn’t. He thinks about it in vulnerable moments. He considers that maybe this is a vulnerable moment.
His fingertips trace your face between the edge of your eyebrow and the baby hairs on your hairline. He taps along your temple gently, smoothing across the softness of your skin until he sculpts down your cheek and jaw. He blinks once, then twice. And then he rests the pad of his thumb on the corner of your mouth.
Almost automatically, you part your lips. Your mouth is pink, dusted with a purplish-red in the center from the merlot you’d drank hours before, and he wants to lick it off you.
He feels your heart beating, too, and you can hear his. It's a loud bang that resonates in between your eardrums. It’s that shared venom that makes your bodies so acquainted with one another. You briefly consider whether a human body can overheat and burn away simply by being touched by another. You wonder how human the two of you can really be.
You close your eyes.
"What are you doing?" you whisper. Your voice is gossamer-thin, barely there, but you’re so close to him that he hears it so clearly.
"Whatever you want." His voice is dripping honey.
You shake your head, still with your eyes closed. Peter’s hand descends to your jaw, thumb on your bone, with the rest of his fingers warming up your neck. You feel like you might just choke on the feeling of it.
"No, that’s not fair. That’s not… okay."
"What?"
"You’re drunk, Peter. Don’t do that to me. Please."
"What am I doing?"
Your face scrunches up as your eyes open to look at him with a pained expression. You have to close them again. You don’t want to look at him. You want his hands off of you, so you push them away.
"You’re with MJ."
"I… I know."
Your face is crumpled as you inch out of his bed. You’re back to kneeling on the floor in front of him.
"Please don’t leave," Peter whispers.
"I’m tired. I’ll sleep on the top bunk," you mumble. You try not to let him catch you sniffling.
"Goodnight.” You don’t respond.
He falls asleep shortly after and smells your perfume even in his dreams. When he wakes up, he smells you. But you’re nowhere to be found. There’s only the cold air coming from a crack of his window left slightly open.
____
It’s not your fault, but you’ve broken his heart a million times. The night of the party was the most recent one. To be fair, he had also broken your heart. He was just too fucking drunk to remember most of it.
You’ve become a ghost, barely texting Peter back, and when you do, your responses are short and clipped. You don’t have much time to hang out, and he realizes he doesn’t either, not when he has MJ to spend time with along with his Spider-Man duties.
But he would make time for you if you wanted it. He wonders if you know that. He feels too ashamed to tell you that himself.
It’s been like this before, and he’s been able to cope. The way you’re on his brain and won’t leave —stuck on him like a parasite. It’s his fault, he decides, not yours. He knows he’s not being fair. Not to you, not to MJ, not to himself. But he keeps it all in and hopes it doesn’t boil over.
Truthfully, Peter wants to avoid everyone. He understands now why you abhor winter to the degree that you always have. The desolation is too much to bear when there’s not much sunlight in January to activate dopamine receptors, so Peter sleeps in longer than he should. Late enough for Aunt May to get on his case about it.
"Something’s up with you," MJ accuses him on a Thursday evening. It’s one of their ritual movie nights with pizza and wine.
"Huh? Nothing’s up," Peter shrugs.
"No, I know you. Something’s wrong."
"I’m fine, Em." A lie.
It’s a miracle that Michelle Jones sees through Peter’s bullshit because it means that she has the incentive to protect herself from any future bullshit that may break her later on. Peter is too numb to process any of it. There was the refusal of admission, the attempt to keep up the wall of his emotions, which crashed down soon enough by the time MJ was out of the door.
He thinks he should call you, but he doesn’t.
____
Peter is used to scrapes and bruises. He’s seen more than enough charred flesh than a nineteen-year-old should. You had never asked to be his caretaker, but over the course of years, that was what you became. His guardian angel.
He used to make excuses to come over after patrol, trying to coax you out of your nest of a room for just an evening. He'd always known you were far more talented than you gave yourself credit for when it came to spider abilities, but it felt more like a curse than a gift for you to bear.
Some nights, he dreams of you falling stories beneath him. Your face is covered in rubble and ash, and although his nightmares often start with this, he knows that somehow, it’s his fault. It feels visceral, the burning in his calloused hands. Torn lycra to show the dirt underneath his fingernails. Hot tears dripping.
He starts taking that Ambien you gave him years ago.
After that, each day passes like he’s trapped in a nightmarish purgatory. No, that’s an exaggeration. He’s just a victim of a New York winter, and he misses you more than he wants to admit to himself or anyone else.
"I can take care of myself." And with that, the image of you disappears.
"I know," he murmurs softly. He’s always known. It is insignificant in comparison to how badly he wants to take care of you if you let him. Your voice echoes in the cavern of his room. You get farther away by the second until you disappear completely, and he evidently wakes up.
Even in your worst state, he’s obsessed with your honeyed skin. It doesn’t matter the number of bruises or cuts – he caresses them all with his nimble fingertips, and he’s ready to kiss them until they heal. He thinks about this sometimes, how much he cares for you and your body. What he'd do if you just let him in, let him devour you however he pleases, and it disgusts him.
In his dreams where you’re hurt, he’s willing to sacrifice whatever he can so that you can revert to your clean, unbothered state. I’d never let anyone break you. It’s a prayer for him. One that he whispers in your ear whenever he can, at least in these dreams. In reality, he knows that he has to let you go because he knows you. Knows how much you want to be free and alone. How you can take care of yourself. You’re not a damsel in distress – you never have been. But Peter feels like he was made to care for you. It would gut him all the same regardless of whether you loved him or not, and he was willing.
When it’s real, he doesn’t know what to do. He didn’t ever think the two of you would be in this position.
He’s been in enough battles to know how these things end. Mr. Stark had walked him through it all and been by his side while the rest of the Avengers repaired the other broken bits of the universe.
Right now is one of those unique times, the quiet and wretched ones, where Peter is contemplating breath after breath before imagining the full picture. Shambles of the street he’s in. The ache of his bruised body and the blood that he sees from yours, that he shouldn’t have seen, because you said it yourself. You’re not a fucking hero. So why is your blood streaked on the palm of his hands?
The distance between you and Peter doesn’t matter – it never does. The moment you’d felt a dread stirring in your stomach, there was a sharp pain in your head that refused to leave unless the working adrenaline in your body was satiated. It wasn’t the same adrenaline that circulated within you from a night of debauchery – instead, it felt like poison. A compulsory kind of pain, a sharp jolt to your senses. Tonight, you’d felt Peter in danger, and it would’ve killed you if you couldn’t get to him. He'd been the destination you'd been dead set on by the end of the night because of your spider instincts.
The police broadcast was too muffled for you to understand much of it, but you picked out the parts where Spider-Man was mentioned and followed through on them. Although you didn’t fall into the shadow of his hero work, you still kept enough tabs on Peter to know where he would usually be on patrol. It wasn’t like he knew, or that you’d ever told him, but when he was starting out as another guard dog for the Avengers in high school, you needed to at least know his approximate location in the event that something went terribly wrong.
An explosion blasts in the center of a park, where the two of you would meet in the middle between Queens and Stark Tower. This is where you lay your courage down. This is where you find Spider-Man’s mangled body before anyone else does.
"Peter," you huff. "S’gonna be okay. You with me? I’m gonna make sure you’re okay."
He’s just less than conscious, the stretch of his animated eyes limited by his weakness. When he sees your face, however, his face glows – not that you can see it through his mask.
He says your name with a fervor that surprises you. His voice is raspy.
"‘m fine. I have to stay," he grunts, his pain palpable. You know that he’s telling the truth, but you don’t want to leave him alone in his misery.
"Peter. You’re hurt."
"You go home. I’ll come find you later. Just let me–"
"You’re fucking limping."
You had always carried yourself like a feather-like, lithe ghost. Quiet, whereas Peter was bold, despite the fact that his anxious nature had rendered him a boyish thing all these years. This is why he’s surprised that you carry him easily with your supernatural strength. He forgets that you have the same abilities as him. If anything, he’d think you were stronger than him in every way.
Even with his thick skin, he melts into something malleable, comfortable. The solace of your arms makes him feel better already.
A pang of small guilt rots away within him, knowing the circumstances of your last meeting. You’re too good. He didn’t deserve to be saved by you, to be patched up with your nimble fingers like he had been treated when he was younger and more naive.
"I can make it to my place, it’s okay," he rasps gently.
You don’t have to say anything, because bullshit radiates through the stern expression of your eyes, your mouth in a grimace. You had always been stubborn and today isn’t an exception. With your webs, you crochet a path for him toward your home, lifting and catching the boy effortlessly as you swing.
A gentle sigh escapes his mouth when the two of you crawl into the safety of your fire escape. The night is quiet behind you. When he looks at you, you have to look away, fixing your hair nervously or occupying your gaze anywhere but in his direction. His eyes are poignant in their longing, though you’re unsure of what he could be thinking. If he’s sorry about before. If he’s ashamed.
Your wispy webs wrap around the parts of him that hurt, but you wince when you check on him to see that the white fibers are slowly saturated with the dark crimson of his open wounds.
"Peter, you have to wash up," you whisper. "Shit’s gonna get infected. I can put some gauze on you after you shower."
He nods wordlessly when you ask him if he can manage the shower on his own. He feels vulnerable, and although your presence is always desired by him, he finds relief in the hot steam of your shower, alone with his thoughts. He’s still shaken from the explosion. Not completely catatonic, but tense. As if he isn’t in his body at all.
When Peter emerges from the bathroom, he looks like a stranger. Scars adorn his sides. Your face crumples at the sight of his fresh wounds.
"C’mere."
It doesn’t take you long to fix him up, cleaning his cuts and wrapping gauze around his stomach and chest. His quiet grunts startle you, as if he's a wild animal. Eyes screwed shut, brows cinched in pain. A heavy exhale and a mumbled apology followed.
You forgive him with a soft touch and a hushed whisper. He wishes the ache would stop. He wishes he could lie on your bed and have you whisper in his ear all night until the sound of your voice lulls him to sleep.
There aren’t many words exchanged, and you want to ask him why. If you did something. But then you think about the images on the news and his withered face, and you decide not to probe the sphere of trauma surrounding him. Peter has probably gone through more in the last twelve hours than you have in a week.
You stop him before he tries to make it out of your bedroom door and towards the living room.
"I don’t mind sleeping on the couch, I’ve done it before."
"It’s like sleeping on a rock, Parker. You just gone through God knows what," you chide. "Just… get in here."
As he breathes in and out, he nestles in your shoulder, his clean hair tickling your bare skin. There’s a nasty guilt that lurches from your sternum. As if you were the reason for his pain. For the state of his body. And you think back to the desperate look in Peter’s eyes the night you took him home from the party. Were you too cruel, then?
It’s like he steals the words from your mouth. He beats you to it.
"I’m sorry," Peter murmurs. His amber eyes blink up at you, unfathomable. You flash him a downturned grin.
"For what?"
"I feel like… there’s been a distance between us lately. And I don’t want that, because you’re my best friend. And now you’re taking care of me when you don’t have to. I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it. That I, um, lo–," he stammers. He chews on his bottom lip. "You’re really good."
"‘m not all that good, Peter."
But of course, you are, he protests in his head. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between.
"I’m sorry for not being around."
"Not just your fault," you shrug. "Phone works both ways."
He knows you better than you think because, within seconds, his palm rests softly on your cheek, where he feels a hot tear.
"What’s up, Spidey?" he asks you. It makes you laugh.
"Shut up." You shake your head, trying to hide your face. The feeling of his thumb rubbing your cheek makes the tears flow even more. "I wouldn’t know what I’d do if something bad happened to you. If I couldn’t get to you. Or if you – if you were gone."
"I’m okay, Rabbit. We’re okay."
"Yeah," you chuckle, trying to hide your tears.
"Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried."
You feel warmer in his grasp. His small breaths fall on your arm as his body curls up next to you. He’s bigger than he’d been before back when you were teenagers. The jaw is chiseled and sharp. Not as soft and boyish as you once knew. With your senses, you can discern the steadiness of his heartbeat as his chest rises and falls into slumber. You fall asleep soon after, dreamless but full of warmth.
____
Waking up next to him is nothing new, but it’s been years. You never thought anything of it when the two of you were sixteen, staying up all night reading creepypastas and watching movies until you’d fall asleep on top of each other by four in the morning.
After a night’s sleep, Peter's sullen face is a bit brighter despite his dark circles. His limbs are entangled in yours, bodies fused together. Yin and yang. You can only assume that this is how it will always be.
You keep mental notes of him like trinkets. The uneven slant in his left eyebrow. The faint freckles dotted along his nose, the one near the corner of his mouth. The faint shadow of hollowed-out cheeks. Peter is still half-boy to you, and half-man, but you didn’t want to come to terms with it. Maybe he was something else. Half-ghost. Half-angel.
Slowly, over the course of a few weeks, he comes back to you again. Sitting together and reading at a cafe. The occasional 3 am swing. Walking around high at the 7-11.
"Did you like Rhode Island?" he asks over a joint one night.
You hum for a second, trying to come up with an acceptable answer. It wasn’t that you hated being in Rhode Island. It was that you hated being away from him.
So instead, you shrug. "It was nice to get away from everything. Providence is still a city, but it isn't as large as all this–”
You trail off, making a vague gesture with your hands. Chaos, Peter presumes.
"Less overwhelming?"
"Sure," you say, nodding. "I missed being home, though."
I missed you.
Peter passes you the joint. His brain feels fuzzy. Warm. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He massages your ankle absentmindedly.
"I get it," he says, breaking the silence.
"You get what?"
"Wanting to leave. I've been thinking about it," Peter shrugs, his eyes squinting in the late afternoon sun. "Sometimes I wish we could pack our bags and go to the countryside. See some cows and shit."
We. We. We.
"There are cows upstate," you snort.
"You know what I mean."
"We can do a road trip."
"You can’t drive."
"I am aware and perfectly fine with being a passenger princess. In fact, I’m looking forward to it," you grin.
He yanks your ankle this time, causing you to slip from where you’re sitting on the pavement. Giggling, you swat away his hands, but he’s too quick, untying your shoelaces as you kick and thrash.
"Honestly, it’s probably better for society if you never get behind the wheel," Peter teases. He dodges you when you try to kick him in the shin.
"Oh, but you can be? You get so distracted so easily! Whenever you’d practice driving, you’d miss so many exits or be too anxious to merge on the highway."
"Okay, well, you’re just a force of distraction," he shrugs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "You have that effect on people."
You look at him quizzically, your eyes narrowing. If there’s anything behind his statement, he doesn’t show it on his face. Peter knows his cheeks are burning, however.
There are more moments like these. Ever since you’d rescued Peter that night, he’s grown accustomed to spending hours of his day idly looking for you, learning your class schedule, and following you home like a pet when it’s time to unwind. He stays for hours like he used to when you were kids, and although he always thinks he’s overstaying his welcome, you don’t seem affected.
You curl into him more these days, like a sunflower stretching toward the morning glow. There are more lingering touches, here and there. You have to remind yourself not to get too comfortable, but God, he makes it so easy.
So the burning question pops out during a marathon of Chainsaw Man.
"Does MJ care that we hang out so much?" you blurt out. He looks at you like you have three heads. Also, his mouth is full.
"Um, webrobrup," he mumbles. He frowns as he looks down. Hot Cheeto fingers.
You mock him, of course.
"English, yeah?"
He chuckles as he finishes scarfing it all down. He shyly licks his fingertips, and you have to stop yourself from staring at the way his fingers enter his mouth. Ugh, gross. This is hardly supposed to be hot.
"We broke up."
You keep a straight face. It’s not like you’re excited or anything. You realize you shouldn’t be surprised because… why else would he be so available to you lately?
"Shit. You really fumbled, then."
"Shut up," he laughs.
"Seriously. Who else is gonna wanna put up with you?" You both know the answer to that.
"It was mutual," he says, shrugging. "I’ve got all my Spider-man shit, she’s getting into a bunch of extracurriculars and even a research internship even though we’re literally first years."
"Classic MJ."
"Yeah."
"We’ll get you back on the market, buddy," you tease, patting his head like a dog. A coy smile lights up your features. It makes something inside him melt.
"I’m not a piece of meat."’
You click your tongue.
"Oh, right, you’re an insect."
"Hey, so are you!"
____
You used to think it was a kind of twin telepathy, the magnetism to Peter that you felt. Bitten by the same spider and entangled in the same web. You realize as you grow older that it’s more than a platonic bond. It feels like wanting to share the same skin.
Or maybe it’s the wine talking.
It’s not your job to keep Peter afloat at the party right now, but both of you remember too well how the last party went. He continually sips water in between gulps of whiskey like a paranoid freak, which you tease him about. Maybe it’s just the darkness of his eyes under this light, but his pupils look wide and dilated.
It’s almost March. You’d both endured a proper New York winter, which usually extends until April if you’re lucky, but global warming has other plans. It's warm enough for you to pair one of your favorite dresses with an oversized Carhartt jacket that used to belong to Peter before the bite bulked him up significantly. You fiddle with the black velvet wrapped around your body as you pretend to listen to banal conversations, leaning your head into Peter’s bicep.
You keep picking at loose threads obsessively. You think about your fingertips and their webs. You think that maybe you should take up crocheting to distract your hands from their restlessness.
Peter grabs your hand away from you, squeezing it slightly, not even looking at you. His flushed palm rests against yours. Gently rubbing your thumb between your finger divots
If you were a cat, Peter would imagine you purring right about now. He wants to take you into his lap, stroke your hair while the alcohol subsides in both of your systems. The thought of you on top of him causes his cock to twitch slightly. His rose-colored cheeks are from the whiskey, he reassures himself. An affirmation. He lets go of your hand.
He knows that this isn't the time or place for such thoughts, so he makes an effort to push the desires down. He knows they'll come up again when the whiskey leaves his veins, but at least he'll be of sober mind.
Christ, he feels like he's at a middle school dance. Especially when you run off with a spring in your step to socialize with some girls you recognize from school. The smell of your hair lingers next to him. It's sweet and slightly floral, a scent that makes him think of when you were kids.
His ears perk up like a dog's when you call his name, reaching out to him so that you can introduce your best friend. He has the right mind to be polite, even funny at times, but he knows he pales in comparison to your current charisma, which contrasts with your usual wallflower nature.
Peter likes watching you talk, and you like that he watches you so intently. When you know he's watching, it's easy to deadpan some drunken jokes and elaborate superfluous tall tales from your high school days. His eyes are bright, and his bottom lip is chewed in between his teeth.
Suddenly, he gets to be alone with you in the kitchen. Your scent permeates the air. He could drown in it.
“Rabbit," you whine petulantly. "Swing me home."
"How drunk are you?" he chuckles with adoration.
"Not very. Just tired, s'all," you respond with a yawn. You scrunch your nose. "Can I sleep at yours?"
Peter looks at you with a soft gaze. "Of course, angel."
Angel. He's never called you that before. You decide that you like the sound of it.
By the time midnight comes around, you're barefoot in his bedroom, black velvet spinning loosely around your figure. In Peter's blurred vision, you look like a friendly apparition, one that particularly favors "Champagne Coast" by Blood Orange.
"Come into my bedroom, come into my bedroom," you quietly sing along as you sway your hips.
"You're already in my room."
Your smile beams at him, huge and illuminating, and impossible to look away from. Peter wishes that he could bottle up this moment to revisit it, or maybe live in it for the rest of his life. The sweetest way to exist.
Your body sinks to his level -- no, collapses -- as you roll over his heavy frame and rest yourself on your back. Your hair fans out like you're underwater. Your lips are red and wine-colored, freshly bitten. When you turn your head toward Peter, his hand plays with the exposed nape of your neck, fingertips grazing the creases of your skin.
"You used to be so gangly, you know," you murmur. Your voice is lower than usual.
"Okay, well, I'm not anymore."
"I could totally still take you in a fight." Still refers to the times when the two of you would attempt something along the lines of combat training, if combat training was just you unleashing your hotheadedness with your mutant powers instead of with your fists. If you weren't so agile, maybe Peter would've had a chance of winning.
"I'd like to see you try, angel."
It's decided -- you are on top of him, knees bent around his waist as you wrestle. The fabric of your dress pools around your waist in a way that feels sacrilegious. Peter has his hand on your thighs, and his touch feels white-hot to both of you, so he closes his eyes, tries to focus on swatting you away like a bat instead. When he opens his eyes, he meets your devilish ones, gleeful that you've managed to pin his arms above his head.
It would take two inches to break this spell of separation. He keeps trying to keep this bubble intact because the last time he tried to pop it, the look on your face made him want to dig a hole and lay in it forever.
Peter feels sorry for many things. He feels sorry for the times he's intruded, when he's made Mr. Stark angry, for the times he couldn't be there for you. He feels sorry that you had to take care of him when he wanted to do that for you.
Right now, however, Peter doesn't feel sorry at all. The slight twitch of your pulse, the way you smell, the curve of your bare shoulders -- it's all too tempting for him to feel sorry for. So he kisses you.
He's surprised when you nearly bite him back. You inhale sharply, pressing your body against him as you let go of his wrists and rest your palms on his jaw instead. Your kiss is fervent, desperate.
His brow cinches in confusion when you pull away.
"Wha--"
"Fuck."
"What is it?" He frowns.
"I owe Ned twenty bucks."
"What?"
"I just remembered. At graduation, he was like, teasing me that we were gonna get together, and we bet on who would make the first move. I was just entertaining him, but you know how that kid gets about twenty dollars."
"So you thought you were going to make the first move, then?”
“I mean, yeah. How was I supposed to know that MJ was going to cuff you before I did?”
“You snooze, you lose, I guess,” he deadpans.
“You don’t even fucking deserve me, you little freak,” you taunt, tickling his exposed midriff.
“God, I know. I’ve known that for a while. Too bad I want you regardless.”
He smiles as he captures your lips again, tasting sweet and smoky at the same time. He coaxes you onto your back and you revel in his body heat and the way his large hands grab the plush of your thighs, pushing and pulling your skin taut. It’s so erotic that it almost feels dirty.
You kiss him back like he’s your last meal while you roam your hands under his shirt, then to his protruding collarbones, then experimentally, to the tufts of his chestnut hair. You pull a bit too hard due to your eagerness and he lets out a mewl that you never could’ve imagined to come out of him.
“You like that, don’t you?” you taunt darkly. “Is that why you always want me to scratch your head when we watch movies?”
“I don’t care what you do as long as you’re touching me,” he breathes out, like a confession. “Don’t care how you touch me, s’long as it’s you.”
A tepid blush soaks your face. You shut him up with another kiss. He licks at your bottom lip, groaning softly at the feeling of your soft body against his.
“You’re so pretty, Peter,” you whisper.
“You are.”
Before you can react, you hitch a breath in surprise when you find that his hands have fully reached above the hem of your dress and onto the bare skin of your hip, toying with the elastic of your underwear. You part your legs, bending your knees so that you can pull the fabric off.
He sighs as his fingers tease the slot of your cunt, which grows wetter and wetter with every touch. Your sensitivity makes you squirm a little. He can tell so easily that you’re falling apart for him. He loves it.
You nearly whine when he takes away his fingers from you. Instead, he towers over your body, pulling your legs toward him as he pulls up the hem of your velvet dress and cascades kisses on your knees. He slowly works his way up to your thighs, biting gently, then hard. Meanwhile, his hands roam the perimeter of your chest and your ribs, all soft and pliable for him. You’ll be delighted when you wake up to a bruise on your thigh stuck in the shape of Peter Parker’s mouth.
A shiver lacerates your lower body all the way up to your neck – you feel it, viscerally. All from his mouth. He slots his tongue onto the bud of your clit going slowly just to watch you squirm.
“Please,” you beg.
“Please what?” His eyes are as dark as the sky. As dark as your dress.
“Your– your mouth. I need it. Please. More.”
Peter’s grip on your thighs tightens as his face moves closer to your center, licking incessantly as you cry out. You attempt to muffle your sounds with your hand covering your mouth, biting the skin on your palm. Your blood is hot, pumping hard, all the way down to your swollen clit, and he treats you like a man starved.
“Oh my God,” you gasp. “More, please. Pleasepleaseplease.”
He listens to you, forcing his ring and middle finger into your cunt and curling upward. Your legs shake involuntarily when he does this and it takes everything in him to not stop just so he can see the look on your face head-on. You look so beautiful right now.
“Gonna cum, Pete. Fuck.”
He closes his eyes as he savors your sweet taste. He feels it when you cum as if it’s happening in his body, too. A jolt to the sense. A vivacious rumble. Your mouth is slack, jaw falling open with your eyes screwed shut as you finish, and Peter towers over you to watch. He’s never seen you like this. He wants to keep the image of it forever.
You thank him with a messy kiss, not caring about the remnants of your lipstick. Your hands attack him, teeth nipping at his earlobe as you help him undress. Soon enough, the two of you are naked together, limbs entangled and kissing without paying any mind to oxygen.
You take his jaw in your hand as if he’s a delicate thing. Easy to break. It’s your turn to tease, now.
“What do you wanna do?”
“You’re such a little shit,” he mumbles, but he can’t help but grin.
“Tell me about it, Spidey.”
“Want you, Rabbit, want to make you feel good.”
“And how exactly will you do that?”
“Gonna fuck you. I’ll make you cry if you keep being a little shit like this, too.”
There’s no time for a reaction. He’s on top of you, pinning you down, and he licks your collarbone up to your jaw as you whine like a newborn kitten. He spanks your ass and you have to your bottom lip to keep from being too loud.
“You want it that bad, huh?”
“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. He melts at the sound of your voice, cooing softly as he playfully bites the skin of your cheek.
You love him like this, a burst of passionate energy focused on you and you only. His little angel. You remember your rabbit heart caged in your sternum fragile and thumping like an earthquake for him.
He pauses to give you another kiss, this time sweet as he licks up the bottom of your lip. You can feel him at the crux of your legs and you can feel the want pumping in your veins. Patience. Patience. Patience.
“You want me to go slow?”
“Of course not.”
You’re so relaxed in his grasp. Gooey with your desire that it might disgust you if you weren’t so enamored. You keep your eyes on him when he enters you – you want to see the look in his eyes.
Peter feels selfish wanting to tease you like this. He’s slow when he enters you, listening to your sweet exhales.
“Easy,” he warns. “‘m gonna take care of you, don’t worry."
Please floods your entire body like a heat stroke. You bend your knees upward and rake the smooth terrain of his back, lifting your hips up at the same time. He thrusts once, then twice, and already, he feels like he’s ready to unfurl completely.
“Fuck,” he groans. You’re so goddamn wet. Soft. Velvety.
“Don’t be shy, Peter,” you murmur. “C’mere.”
You keen into the way he buries his nose into your shoulder, shallow breaths uneven and erratic as he continues, losing control bit by bit as he goes on. His pleasure is the knife you twist inside yourself.
You gasp at the way he can carve you out, the way he knows exactly where to put his hands as he grasps for your body, like he’d molding you from clay. He drinks down your moans with his mouth, eyes fluttering at the impact of your cunt clenching him.
Peter props himself up now, moving his body backward so he’s perpendicular to your core. He holds you by your hips a little too hard, but you’d always liked it rough. You liked it when he would cuddle you or play with you or put his entire body weight on you. To smother was to be encased in something akin to love.
“Fuck,” he hisses, getting the hang of a constant rhythm. His hips slot with yours as his cock thrusts deeper into you, until he can feel the slight tremble of your thighs.
“You okay?” he asks, chest heaving.
“Yes, keep going. Keep going.”
You underestimate how fragile you are. A rough thrust almost has you there, until he pulls out of you like a stolen breath, and it leaves you whining.
“Pete.”
“Shh, I’m just trying to pace myself,” he breathes, jaw slack and glistening with sweat. “You feel too fucking good.”
“Come back or I’ll break your wrists.”
He chuckles, but you’re dead serious. You lift your body to him so you can pull his down, kissing him with a ragged hunger that’s all teeth and lust. He’s quick to match your vigor but with more tenderness than desperation. It makes you melt, how natural it is, how this is how it might’ve felt in a past life. Your bodies entwined in a way that’s proverbial.
He listens to you. Fucks you much rougher than before, giving in to what he wants, because he’s not sorry about how much he wants you. Your broken moans curl out of your throat and into his mouth and the feeling of him deep in you makes you feel like a balloon ready to burst from the pressure.
It’s like Peter reads your mind, because suddenly, his hand is around your throat. You’ve never looked more angelic to him than you do now, eyes half-lidded and your reddish mouth all lax.
“So fucking beautiful, I love you,” he mumbles against his mouth.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
All of Peter’s muscles are tense from holding back. Fuck, he doesn’t want to cum until you do.
Luckily, the way his cock stretches you out has you nearly drooling underneath him. He touches the deepest parts of your insides like he belongs there, like he was meant to be there, as if the way he turns his hips toward you is a vow in itself. You whimper at the feeling of it all and he nearly loses it.
“I’m so close,” you pants. Thank fucking God.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Cum for me,” he coos. “You’re doing so good. Fuck.”
Your gaze lingers on the shape of his mouth. You think about how his voice sounds when he calls you angel.
Your orgasm comes like a flower blooming, like a beam of light in the darkness. He feels it, too, so vividly like he shares your body. It feels strange how much he feels that he hasn’t felt before, and it makes him come undone right after you.
He pulls out of you and spills onto your stomach unceremoniously with something in between a grunt and a whimper. He’s all over you. You want to bury your body into his.
“Peter,” you whisper, your gaze languishing.
“Yes, angel?”
“I think I owe Ned fifty bucks now.”
He looks at you incredulously but you can’t keep the facade, bursting into laughter as he groans in annoyance and flops his body on top of yours.
“Ew, clean me up, at least,” you complain.
“Right,” he says, nodding. And he does, with a spare t-shirt from his floor absentmindedly while he shares a grin with you. “You serious, though?”
“Of course not,” you scoff. “Ned Leeds will never get anything over twenty bucks from me.”
He laughs and it sounds like heaven.
“You said you loved me,” you tell him.
“I do love you. I’ve always loved you.”
You could cry right now. Surely the influx of endorphins in your body is breaking the rest of your brain.
“I love you, too.”
You kiss him again, open-mouthed, teeth sucking slightly as his lips. He takes a fistful of your hair while his other hand caresses your jaw. It excites you when he breaks the kiss by pulling your hair. His cheeks dimple the slightest bit when he smiles at you.
“Don’t do that, you’re gonna get me hard again.”
“You have the stamina,” you shrug, hugging one of his oversized pillows to your chest.
“You’re cute.”
“Hey.”
“Hi.”
“How come you call me angel now?”
Peter shrugs. He rubs his hands on your calves.
“You’re my guardian angel. Always have been. And you’re not allowed to complain about it being corny because it’s true.”
Peter is shy all of sudden as if he hadn’t just fucked you. His brown hair is tousled to bedhead perfection, messy and slightly frizzy, and the warmth of his skin radiates from the way his whole body seems to blush in front of you.
“I have a proposition.”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Come on!” You nudge him, kicking him with your feet. You get off of his bed to rummage through his dresser drawers for an oversized t-shirt, just dodging his attempts to grab you by the waist.
“Okay. What is it?”
“We should use our webs next time.”
He blinks, smirking, indulging you for a second.
“Deal.”
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tagging mutuals: @meliapis​ @cutetomholland​ @userholland​ @sparklingsin​ @tomdutch​ @userholland​ @vendettaparker​ @selfcarecap @simplykenni​ @uhlxis​ @cordiformity​ @sapphicsoie​ @seolaseoul​ @honeyspidey​ @logangarfield​ @justapurrcat​ @arachine​ @cocoamoonmalfoy​ @ohcaptains​ @aniqua
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waitimcomingtoo · 6 months
Text
Wasn’t Me
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader
Synopsis: when Vision accidentally phases through your wall and catches you and Peter in the act, you try to stop it from spreading to everyone in the tower before Tony gets home
Masterlist
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“Wait, this isn’t the kitchen.” Vision said as he accidentally phased through the bedroom wall. You and Peter froze at the sound of a third voice and slowly looked up. Every time you snuck off to have some private time with each other, you made sure to lock the door. But despite all your best efforts to keep your relationship a secret, neither of you accounted for Vision coming through the wall. Especially not when you were right in the middle of….something.
“Oh. Hello.” Vision said and gave you and Peter a polite wave. The act he had caught you did not seem to phase him at all while you and Peter were horrified.
“AHHHH.” You and Peter screamed at the same time. You rolled off of Peter and landed right on the floor while Peter grabbed a pillow and placed it over his lap.
“Forgive me for intruding, but I am looking for the kitchen.” She said to meet her in the kitchen.” Vision asked politely.
“Well you’re not gonna find it here!” You exclaimed as you threw your shirt back on.
“Dude! Get out! ” Peter shouted as he hastily tried to zip his pants.
“Oh, sorry, am I interrupting something?” Vision genuinely asked.
“YES!” You screamed like it was obvious.
“My apologies. I bid you both a good day.” Vision nodded curtly and disappeared back the way he came. You and Peter stayed in silence for a while as you processed what had happened.
“Do you think he saw us?” Peter asked to break the silence. You sat up from under him and gave him a look.
“Do I think he saw us?” You repeated slowly.
“Well do you?” Peter asked as you climbed back onto the bed.
“Are you kidding me? Of course he saw! The straw was already in the coconut. There’s no way he didn’t realize what was going on.”
“Maybe he thought we were just wrestling?” Peter shrugged weakly.
“Uh huh. Wresting with your dick out. Just like WWE.” You said sarcastically.
“Damn it. He definitely saw us. Do you think he’ll tell anyone?” Peter worried.
“He better not. My dad will kill you. And then vaporize your corpse. And then set the ashes on fire. And then blow them into a shrimp cocktail.”
“But I’m allergic to shellfish.”
“Exactly.” You whispered.
“Oh shit.” Peter gulped. “We need to go find Vision and make sure he doesn’t tell anyone.”
“Let’s go. He’s probably charging or in a bowl of rice or something.” You said and lead Peter out of the room. You went into the kitchen and found Vision at the breakfast table.
“Hey Vision.” Peter smiled awkwardly as you stood beside him.
“Hello, Peter.” Vision said politely.
“So, about the little snafu from before. We just want to make sure you don’t tell anybody about what you saw.”
“Yeah. Because it wasn’t what it looked like.” You added.
“Oh, no? It looked like the two do you were engaging in sexually explicit activity.” Vision replied. You and Peter exchanged a panicked look and tried to think of a way out of this.
“It looked like that, yes, but that’s not what we were doing.” Peter lied as you nodded along.
“Hm. That’s funny. I can detect heart rates and both of you appear to be lying.” Vision said with genuine curiosity.
“We’re not lying, silly.” You forced a laugh. “My heart is racing because I haven’t had any food yet but I drank a bunch of coffee.”
“You know women and their pumpkin spice lattes.” Peter added, earning himself a jab in the side.
“Watch it.” You said through a smile.
“And my heart just beats fast because I have the heart rate of a spider.” Peter added. “No lying here.”
“Oh, I see. But if you two weren’t engaging in sexual activity, what were you doing?” Vision questioned.
“Uhhh…” Peter scratched his head and tried to think of something.
“Peter was just choking on a pretzel and I was getting it out of his throat.” You jumped in.
“With your tongue?” Vision asked.
“Yes?” Peter said weakly.
“With your shirts off?”
“It’s a new technique.” You deadpanned.
“I’m not aware of this technique. Can you demonstrate on me?” Vision asked you.
“Absolutely not.” Peter snapped and stepped between you and Vision. Vision looked at Peter in confusion and you had to jump in again.
“Because it didn’t work.” You explained. “He still choked.”
“He seems fine to me. Although, I am detecting some slight discomfort in the abdomen.” Vision said as he looked Peter up and down.
“I have a tummy ache.” Peter admitted and patted his stomach.
“Would you like me to conduct a physical exam?” Vision asked and held up both his hands.
“No. I probably just have to fart.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned and rubbed your eyes.
“So are we cool? You’re not gonna tell anyone what you saw?” Peter asked Vision.
“We are cool. I will not be telling anyone what I didn’t see.” Vision confirmed.
“Okay. Good.” You sighed in relief.
“Except for Wanda.” He added. “Because I already told her. I tell her everything. I love her quite dearly.”
“Oh my God.” You groaned even louder.
“What did you tell her you saw?” Peter asked him.
“Just you were engaging in-“
“It wasn’t sexual activity!” You exclaimed. “He was choking and I was saving his life.”
“Then why was his penis out?” Vision asked Peter.
“Because…it…was… cold.” Peter said slowly, hating himself with every word.
“Oh my God. Both of you need to stop.” You stated. “Do you think Wanda going to tell anyone about what you thought you saw but didn’t actually see?”
“I’m not sure.” Vision replied. “You’ll have to ask her.”
“Fine. We can ask her.” You sighed and pulled Peter by the hand and brought him to where Wanda was reading on the balcony.
“I don’t want to. She’s scary.” Peter whispered to you.
“We have to talk to her and find out what she knows before she tells my dad.” You whispered back.
“I can whisper too.” Wanda whispered as she suddenly appeared behind the two of you. You both screamed and jumped apart as she laughed. You grabbed Peters hand and ran away, brushing past Natasha as you went.
“They’re a little odd, aren’t they?” Natasha chuckled as she watched you run by.
“They are.” Wanda agreed. “You know, Vision caught them doing it before.”
“What? No way.”
“Yeah. He said he accidentally phased through Peters bedroom wall and caught them.”
“Oh God. Yuck. New fear unlocked. That’s hilarious though.” Natasha laughed at the thought.
“What’s hilarious?” Steve asked as he came into the room.
“Vision caught Y/n and Peter doing it.” Natasha told him.
“What?” Steve laughed. “No way.”
“That’s what I said!” Natasha laughed.
“Honestly, I kinda figured they were doing it. They are the only two in the tower around that age. And lord knows Peter is hornier than an…animal with horns.” Steve said weakly when he couldn’t think of an animal.
“Rhino?” Wanda asked.
“I was thinking Triceratops.” Steve admitted.
“Wait, isn’t there a rule again dating on the team?” Nat asked. “At least, that’s what Tony tells me and Bruce every time we make eye contact.”
“If he had a problem with that, he’s definitely gonna have a rule against one of us dating his daughter. Especially Peter.”
“I thought Peter was a nice boy, no?” Wanda asked.
“He is.” Steve nodded. “But all Tony will see is that he’s a boy who Vision caught with his daughter. He’s gonna blow Peter into a million pieces.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s what Vision walked in on.” Wanda mumbled. From across the room, you and Peter were peeking out from behind a wall to watch them all talk.
“This is bad. They’re all laughing and saying our names.” Peter whispered to you.
“Do you think Wanda told?”
“I don’t know. What if she made them all see it with her mind powers?”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s evil and not to be trusted!” Peter whispered harshly.
“We just need to talk to her and find out what she knows. Maybe she didn’t even believe Vision.”
“Do we have to?” Peter whined. “What if she enters my mind palace?”
“She wouldn’t find much.” You mumbled.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, sweetie.” You patted his cheek and pulled him out from behind the wall. Natasha and Steve had left at that point and Wanda had gone back to her book.
“Hey, Wanda.” You said with an awkward wave.
“Oh. Hello. I haven’t seen you two in forever. What have you been up to?” Wanda said sarcastically.
“Not much. Same soup, just reheated. You know the vibes. So, uh, we just wanted to talk to you about something. Something Vision might have said.” You began.
“Oh. You mean you two swallowing each other alive in Peters room?” Wanda asked. You and Peter exchanged a look and Peter let out a loud gulp.
“Vision doesn’t know what he saw.” You told her.
“Vision is made from the highest form of artificial intelligence. He knows everything.”
“Okay.” You said mockingly. “But he doesn’t know in this specific situation.”
“He’s programmed to access a situation down to every last detail in case there is a threat of danger. And it seemed the only threat of danger in Peters room that day was running out of oxygen. Or maybe a broken pelvis.”
“I’m flattered but I’m not that good.” Peter said humbly.
“He’s right. He isn’t.” You nodded in agreement.
“What was that?” Peter asked you.
“We just want to make sure whatever Vision told you about what he thinks he saw isn’t going to be told to anyone else.” You said to Wanda.
“Now hold on.” Peter tried to go back to what he had heard.
“Secrets safe with me.” Wanda smiled and zipped her lips.
“And me.” Bruce said from behind you. You and Peter whipped around and saw Bruce staring at you while eating a bowl of cereal.
“What?! Were you in here the whole time?” Peter asked.
“Yeah. Wanda, you are funny. How come I never noticed that?” Bruce chuckled.
“I’m not sure.” Wanda shrugged. “You tell me.”
“God damn it. Are either of you going to tell anyone what Vision saw?” You asked and pointed at Wanda and Bruce.
“I thought Vision didn’t see anything?” Wanda smirked.
“Right. Is anyone going to tell my dad about what Vision thinks he saw but definitely didn’t see?” You asked with a hopeful smile.
“Maybe? I don’t understand the question. Can you reword it? Or maybe write it down so I can see it?” Bruce asked.
“Oh my God.” You groaned. “I thought you were the smart one.”
“Ouch. Can you tell your girlfriend to stop being mean to me?” Bruce asked Peter.
“I’m not his girlfriend because we weren’t engaging in sexual activity because we’re not dating. Everyone got that?” You asked angrily.
“Got it.” Wanda nodded.
“No, sorry. Still confused. So you are dating but Vision didn’t catch you guys doing it?” Bruce asked so genuinely that you wanted to scream.
“No, he definitely did.” Wanda snorted. You looked at her in betrayal and she smiled apologetically.
“Oh. Now I get it. You guys are dating and Vision did catch you having sex.” Bruch realized. “But what are we not telling Tony?”
“No one is telling Mr. Stark anything. Everyone just keep your mouth shut about the activities, which may or may not have been sexual in nature, that Vision allegedly walked in on. Okay?” Peter exclaimed.
“My lips are sealed.” Wanda assured you. “Well, now they are. Because I already told Steve and Nat. But that was before you asked me not to tell anyone.”
“Oh my God. Find. Can we trust you?” You asked Bruce.
“I’m not gonna rat. Don’t worry.”
“Thank you.” Peter nodded. “You’re dismissed.”
“I don’t take orders from you.” Bruce snapped and walked away.
“Jesus Christ.” Peter whispered and felt genuinely offended by the tone. You took his hand and brought him away from Wanda to regroup.
“We need to get ahead of this before anyone else finds out we’re secretly dating.” You told him.
“You guys are secretly dating?” Sam asked as he came into the hallway, making you both jump.
“Damn it!” Peter shouted and hit the wall.
“Oh great. Captain fucking America knows now.” You grumbled.
“Since when are you two a thing?” Sam laughed and looked between you and Peter.
“Two months.” You admitted.
“Two months? And Tony still doesn’t know?”
“Do you think Peter would be alive right now if my dad knew?” You asked and gestured to Peter.
“That’s a joke, right?” Peter laughed nervously.
“I guess not.” Sam shrugged.
“Are you gonna tell my dad?” You asked him.
“No.” Sam replied.
“Cool. Thanks.” You sighed in relief.
“But only if-“
“Mother fucker.” You exclaimed now that there was a new obstacle.
“Only if you promise to never bring up that one time with the TV.” Sam continued.
“You mean when you got caught-“
“Zip it.” Sam cut you off. “Or I’ll tell Daddy Warbucks about your affair with Little Orphan Annie here.”
“This whole conversation has been wildly emasculating.” Peter mumbled.
“I never saw anything.” You told Sam.
“Good.” He nodded. “Then we have a deal.”
You went to shake hands when your phone started to ring. You looked at Peter curiously and pulled it out of your pocket.
“Hang on. Hello?”
“Hey short stack. I’m landing in 20 minutes. I can see that most of the team is in the tower today so I thought we could all have a nice, family dinner in the dining room. How does that sound?” Tony asked you through the phone.
“The entire team? In the dinning room? For dinner? Tonight?” You asked as panic grew in your chest.
“Are you playing a one man game of Clue? Just let everyone know, will you?” Tony asked.
“Sure, daddy. No problem.” You laughed nervously and looked at Peter with wide eyes.
“Thanks, peach. See you soon.” Tony said before having up.
“Shit balls.” You whispered once you were off the phone.
“Was that super good news?” Peter asked hopefully.
“My dad wants the whole team in the dinning room for family dinner.” You said and held your breath for his reaction.
“Son of a…” Peter started to shout and then quieted down, “shart mama.”
“I know. It’s bad.”
“This has gotten so out of hand. I’ve never taken this many L’s in a row. I don’t know if I can take anymore. My body is shutting down. I haven’t peed all day.” Peter said as he paced back and forth.
“Keep it together.” You said as you gripped his shoulders.
“Oh no. This is going to be so awkward.” Sam laughed at your misfortune.
“Why? Because everyone knows we’re secretly dating except for Mr. Stark and they also know Mr. Stark will kill them for knowing and not telling him right away so tonight will be a long, uncomfortable game of who tells him first?” Peter asked all in one breath.
“Yes, that’s exactly why.” Sam nodded and looked at Peter strangely.
“I don’t want to go.” Peter whispered and turned to you.
“We all have to go.” You told him. “He’ll get sus if we’re not all there.”
“But what if your dad kills me?” Peter whined.
“Then I’ll wait at least three months before getting a new boyfriend.” You smiled sweetly and patted his chest.
“You can do that but I’ll just haunt him and kill him in his sleep.” Peter smiled back.
“Oh my God. Come on. We have to go get ready for dinner.” You said and pulled Peter to your room.
30 minutes later, everyone was seated in the dining room with Tony at the head of the table. You and Peter nervously peered through the doorway to see what the set up was.
“What’s our plan?” Peter asked you.
“Sit far away from each other and diverge the conversation every time my dad gets close to happening upon the truth.”
“Okay. How hard can that be? We never get together for family dinner. They’ll all be talking so much that you and I won’t even come up.”
You and Peter took your seats at the table with you next to your dad and Peter further away. You made eye contact with Peter and nodded to let him know that you were in this together. Everyone stayed dead silent as the food was passed around and Tony was quick to notice.
“Why is everyone so quiet? Did Sam leave porn on the big TV again?” Tony asked as he chewed his food. You gulped and looked at Peter in a panic. You had been wrong about everyone talking and keeping the attention away from you. Instead, everyone was silent and tense since they didn’t want to be the one to let Tony know what Vision had seen.
“That was one time.” Sam defended.
“But how could we ever forget?” Tony teased him.
“I just wanted to watch Mama Mia. My eyes were burned.” Bucky said as he shut his eyes to keep out the memory.
“Let it go.” Sam said flatly.
“I don’t remember that.” You said robotically. Sam gave you a discreet thumbs up across the table.
“What? You were the one that found it.” Tony reminded you.
“Doesn’t ring a bell. I think you’re all remembering incorrectly.” You said with no much stiffness it sounded like you were reading from a prompter. Tony looked around the table and everyone avoided eye contact with him. They mindlessly pushed their food around their plates to look busy so that Tony wouldn’t ask them anything.
“Why is everyone acting weird?” Tony asked.
“What? We’re not. You’re being weird, dad.” You forced a laugh and patted Tony’s arm.
“Right.” Tony said skeptically. “So, Pete the treat. Any romantic interests at school?”
Everyone turned to stare at Peter, who was in the middle of taking a sip from his glass. Peter started choking on his water for a long time. No one made any effort to help Peter so he just sat there choking for an uncomfortably long period of time. Everyone stayed silent as he Peter coughed, turned red, and clapped his chest to try and get the water out. When he was finally done, he was crying and bright red.
“What?” Peter asked horsely.
“Peter doesn’t want to talk about girls, dad.” You laughed nervously. Everyone exchanged looks while also sneaking glances at you and Peter.
“He does with me. Come on. My dad never bothered with this stuff and I want to break the cycle. Tell me about your love life.” Tony insisted and playfully patted the table. You shot daggers at Peter and everyone turned to look at him. Peter felt sweat dripping down his forehead and smiled nervously.
“There’s no one, Mr. Stark. No girls.”
“I don’t buy that for a second. I can see the hormones brewing in your eyes. You’re sweating just at the thought of her. I know there’s a girl.”
“Maybe.” Peter squeaked out.
“See? I knew it. Tell me about her. She cute?” Tony asked. Peter looked at you for a brief second and quickly looked away.
“Yeah, yeah. She’s gorgeous. Really pretty.”
“She’s all right.” Sam shrugged, making everyone stifle a laugh as your jaw dropped.
“Fuck did you just say?” Peter snapped.
“I was kidding. Damn.” Sam held up his hands in defense.
“Damn, indeed.” Tony laughed. “Way to stand up for your girl, kid. She’s a lucky lady.”
“Thank you, sir.” Peter said and hoped that was the end of the conversation.
“You really are a good kid, Peter. I don’t tell you enough. I was just saying this to Pepper the other day, but if anyone is ever brave enough to try and date my daughter, I hope they’re like you.” Tony said sincerely. This time, you started choking as everyone murmured with amusement.
“Really?” Peter asked hopefully. He looked at you but you didn’t dare make eye contact.
“Yeah. Sure, you’re pretty annoying and way too eager at times, but you’re a good kid. You’re responsible, you care about other people, and you know how to get a decent haircut.” Tony continued.
“So you’d give Peter your blessing? If he and I ever wanted to date?” You asked skeptically.
“Absolutely not.” Tom said immediately.
“What?” Your face dropped. “But you just said-“
“I said I hope the person you date is like Peter.” Tony specified. “But Peter would never be allowed to date you.”
“Why not?” Peter asked and you shot him a look. Everyone else kept their heads down and turned away from Tony so he wouldn’t suspect anything.
“Not that I care. Psh. Peter is lame. I would never date Peter. Haha. But yeah, why not?” You asked your dad.
“Because he’s a superhero. And no daughter of mine is dating a superhero.”
“But you’re a superhero.” You pointed out. “And mom married you.”
“I know. That’s why I’d never allow you to go down the same path. I’ve missed hundreds dates, thousands of calls, and a million important moments because I was off being a superhero. I was saving the world but I was hurting the person I love most in the process. I don’t want that life for you. If Peter was an average guy off the street, I’d be thrilled to know you were dating him. But Peter isn’t average.”
“I know that.” You replied, starting to get annoyed now that your dad was trying to tell you that you couldn’t do something. You were already doing it, but he didn’t need to know that. He needed to know that he couldn’t make your choices for you.
“Ayo. Yeah she does.” Sam snorted. Everyone gasped and looked at him, making him freeze. You and Peter stared daggers at Sam who smiled sheepishly.
“Oops?”
“You little bitch.” You mouthed across the table at him. Tom noticed the way everyone reacted and grew suspicious. He looked at you and noticed you weren’t making eye contact. He then looked at Peter, who looked like he was about to pass out.
“What was that?” Tony asked Sam.
“Nothing.” Sam scoffed and went back to eating.
“Samuel. Tell me what you just said.” Tony said with an eerily calm smile.
“I don’t want to.” Sam whispered.
“Tell me or I will shove your wings so far up your ass-“
“I said she knows Peter isn’t average.” Sam admitted before Tony could finish his sentence. You buried your face in your hands while Peter chewed off all of his fingernails.
“What does that mean?” Tony asked and turned to you.
“I can confirm that as well.” Vision raised his finger as he spoke up. You and Peter looked at Vision in betrayal while everyone else stayed silent.
“Oh my God.” You whispered and rubbed your face.
“What? What’s the big red giant talking about?” Tony asked you again, sounding angry this time. Before you had a chance to think of something, Vision spoke up.
“I’m talking about how I accidentally caught them fornicating earlier today, sir. Also, am I required to be here? I can’t actually eat food.” Vision said politely. Everyone was dead silent as Tony processed what he was hearing. No one dared to look up from their plates or even move a muscle.
“You know what? Vision is right. We should actually all leave. And never return. Bye!” You said and got up from the table. Tony grabbed the back of your shirt and made you sit back down.
“Nobody move.” He said in a low voice. Silence fell over the table again as Tony slowly looked to Peter. That’s when he noticed that Peter had passed out and had his limp head in his dinner plate.
“Wake the son of a bitch up.” Tony ordered. Wanda lifted Peters head by his hair and a green bean stuck to his cheek and forehead.
“Peter?” Tony asked, but Peter didn’t wake up. Wanda shook him, then took his pulse to see if he was even alive.
“He’s unresponsive.” She reported.
“Jesus Christ.” You groaned to yourself as you watched Wanda and Steve try to wake Peter up.
“He peed his pants.” Steve announced, making you groan even louder.
“PETER!” Tony shouted as he banged on the table. Peter woke up and looked around in confusion. Tony slowly stood up and leaned over the table while staring daggers at Peter.
“Somebody tell me what’s going on.” Tony demanded. No one said anything, so you bit the bullet and stood up as well.
“Dad, Peter and I are dating. Vision caught us before and the whole team found out about it. That’s what’s going on, okay? Please, don’t kill my boyfriend.”
“What?” Tony asked as he slumped back in his seat. You couldn’t tell if he was angry or upset, but it was definitely not good.
“Sam was watching porn on the big screen!” You blurted and pointed to Sam.
“You said you didn’t see anything!” Sam pointed back at you.
“That was before you didn’t hold up your end of the deal!” You shouted.
“Shut up, both of you. Are you kidding me right now? You’re dating Peter Parker?” Tony asked in a calmer voice.
“Yes, daddy. I am. I have been for two months. We didn’t tell you because we knew you’d be mad and we just wanted some time together before you forced us apart. I wouldn’t normally lie to you like this but I knew you’d never allow us to be together and I love him. I just needed to love him for as long as I could before the world knew. I’m sorry. Please, don’t be mad at me.” You said as you took your dads hands. Tony stared at you for a long time and finally, put his hand on your cheek.
“I could never be mad at you, princess.” Tony said kindly. You smiled in surprise as Peter let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m gonna turn Peter inside out, though.” Tony said sweetly before lunging at Peter. He punched Peter right in the throat, making Peter collapse to the ground. You rushed to Peters side as Tony shook out his hand.
“Dad! You can’t hit him that hard. He’s only 5’8. He could’ve died.” You yelled at Tony as you pulled Peters head into your lap.
“That didn’t even hurt.” Peter wheezed out as he clutched his throat. Tony wound up to hit Peter again, but stopped when he saw something that surprised him. He watched Peter reached up and touch your face as he whispered to you that everything was going to be all right. He thought he had just been punched in the throat and was awaiting the punishment of a lifetime, his priority was to comfort you when you were upset. Tony then knelt down beside Peter and helped him sit up.
“I’m sorry, kid. I should not have hit you. It was a slight overreaction.” Tony sincerely apologized.
“Slight?” Peter croaked out.
“I just wasn’t expecting to come home to this news. But if it’s been two months and my daughter says she’s this in love, maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as I thought.”
“Mr. Stark, I know it’s probably hard to think about your daughter dating someone with a life as unpredictable as ours, but I don’t put anything above her. If I’m out on patrol, chances are, she’s hanging out on a rooftop with a walkie talkie telling me where to go. If I have to miss a date to take care of something, I take her with me. She’s my partner in all of this. I don’t leave her waiting around for a text back all night. She comes first.”
“Actually, “Vision began, “when I entered your room, it seemed as though Peter was going-“
“Do not finish that sentence, jumbo tampon.” You cut him off.
“You can trust me, Mr. Stark. You can trust us.” Peter said as he wrapped an arm around you. Tony looked between the two of you for a while but didn’t say anything.
“Please, daddy.” You whispered. Tony finally caved and smiled softly.
“Okay. You’ve convinced me. I’m not gonna kill Peter. You have my blessing, underoos.” Tony said as he helped Peter off the floor.
“Really? You’re not gonna force us apart?” You asked hopefully as you wrapped your arm around Peters.
“I’m not.” Tony confirmed. “You’re old enough to make your own decisions. But if he breaks your heart, he’s getting turned inside out. At least for a day. I cannot compromise on that.”
“Deal!” You clapped your hands before hugging your dad.
“Hold up, do I get a say in that deal?” Peter questioned.
“Don’t push your luck, kid. After what Vision walked in on you doing with Tony’s kid, you’re lucky to be alive right now.” Bruce said as he patted Peter on the back. Tony frowned as he pulled out of the hug.
“Hold on, what exactly did Vision walk in on?” Tony asked. Peter motioned for everyone to keep their mouths shut as Tony looked around the room. When no one answered him, he looked at you expectingly.
“So.” You laughed nervously. “Dessert, anyone?”
Tag List 🏷️
@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling
@tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings
@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@peterparkoure
@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr
@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland
@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​
@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant
@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger
@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona
@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom
@pandaxnienke
 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours
@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85
@olixerwxxd @leilanixx
@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940
@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing
@mathletemadison  
@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr @loudthoughts-softspoken
@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu
@ciarahollands
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Text
on my knees
Summary : Reader gives Peter head for the first time.
"fuck Peter" you whimpered as Peter kissed and sucked on your neck leaving many hickeys to deal with tomorrow but in the moment you dont care.  
This wasn't the first time that making out with Peter got so heated, this has become an everyday occurrence. Usually you two would try and study but you would always end up on his lap hungrily making out and grinding slowly on each other. 
That was the current situation. your grinding against Peters very apparent boner quietly moaning your hands tugging at his shirt silently asking him to take it off.  He got the hint and takes it off, the sight always makes you speechless even if you've seen him shirtless countless times the sight always turns you on. 
"quit staring Y/N" He says with a slight smirk your cheeks turn a bright shade of pink, you hadn't noticed you were staring "sorry" Peter gently grabs your face with one hand, other on your waist and kisses you, the kiss was sweet unlike the earlier kiss.
His kisses move to your neck he finds your spot easily making you moan. You grab at his hair and pull him closer, Peter groans when you grind down on him the pressure on his rock hard dick being so pleasurable he felt like he was about to cum right then and there.
Peters kisses made you feel like you were on fire every ounce of your body was burning up, you took off your shirt revealing your red bra that pushes your tits up perfectly. Peters eyes widen and cheeks redden "Fuck Y/n you are so beautiful" you gave him a smile and kiss him again sweetly as a thank you before it swiftly turned heated again.
Your hands wander all over his bare chest and down his abdomen Peters breath hitches when your hands reach the waistband of his grey sweatpants. You pull away from the kiss " is this okay?" Peter nods, you give him a nervous smile. You and Peter have never gone this far before and you wanted to be good. 
" y-you don't have to if you don't want to that's okay" Peter says while giving you a smile " I want to"  You said as you drop down on your knees in front of his bed and start pulling his pants and boxers down at the same time, Peter helps you by lifting his hips. 
You gasp when you see his dick he was big and thick leaking with pre cum, you are still nervous but exited at the same time, you have been wanting to do this for a while you even researched how to give good head in preparation. "Please do something baby" You look up to see Peter panting heavily, face redder than you have ever seen before but it only made you more exited and determined to make him feel good. 
You leaned down and grabbed his dick you then bent down and licked his tip tasting his pre cum. Looking up to see his reaction his head was thrown back mouth agape, he already looked fucked even if you barely touched him . without looking down you started sucking on his tip before slowly going further down Peter moaned loudly and looked down making eye contact. 
"shit y/n you're so good at that" His words spurred you on making you go faster you jerked off what you couldn't take in your mouth. You moan as you feel Peter thrust his hips further into your mouth making you slightly gag. Peter quickly takes himself out of you " I'm so sorry are you okay? did I hurt you?" He checks your face for any injuries you laugh" Peter its okay it was actually really hot you should do it again"
"o-okay" you give Peter a quick kiss before going back to his dick licking  from the base to the tip then spitting on it. You jerk him off a little pulling moans and whimpers from Peter you bent down and started bobbing your head on his dick drool slid down on his dick creating a wet slobbering sound. His hands went to your hair making a ponytail "fuck babe shit feels so good" Peters loud moans and groans motivating you to keep going despite the ache in your jaw.
Peter thrusts gently into your mouth, making sure he didn't hurt you. You could tell he was close to cuming when his dick twitched you quickened your movements moaning when his dick hit the back of your throat the vibrations from your moan pushed him to close the edge " I-im going to cum baby" his thrusts quickened and his grip on your hair tightened you made eye contact as he came down your throat with a loud moan. 
after swallowing his cum and recovering from his incredible high he looks at you with a shy smile  "t-that was amazing baby thank you" he says as he reaches for tissues on his nightstand you shot him a confused look his eyes widen with realization "wait did you um s-swallow?" you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out showing that you did indeed swallow every drop he gave you. 
"fuck" He pulls you up and kiss you hard groping your ass. the kiss got heated your tongues fighting for dominance. Peter moves you down on the bed " Your turn" he smirks
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The forgotten child
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Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker
Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)
Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him
a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!
you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.
always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.
all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.
but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.
you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time
you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.
you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.
you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.
it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.
your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.
"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.
"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.
"Becoming like my son."
once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.
you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.
"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.
you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.
you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.
a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
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shawnxstyles · 1 year
Text
please, call me peter
DATE: JANUARY 6, 2023
summary: you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.
request: yes yes
words: 3.4k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering], dub-con, small praise kink, dirty talking), and a cute ending.
note: shooting out requests like webs. sorry that was lame. if this makes you uncomfortable, do not read.
gynecologist!peter x female!reader
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Your eyes scan the white room while you sit impatiently. Your heart lightly thuds in your chest and your fingers drum rapidly along your clothed thigh. The nurse had asked if you wanted to change into a hospital gown, which you politely denied. She gave you an indifferent expression before walking out, leaving you here.
You were at the gynecologist for one concerning reason; every time you had sex, you couldn’t come. Your previous relationship ended because you were unable to reach that euphoric high, which you believed was a ridiculous reason to leave someone. You weren’t as sad as you thought you’d be because you were too concerned with your own well-being to dwell on some bloke.
Before heading to the doctor, you had a quick hook-up, assuming that you and your ex just weren’t sexually compatible. But then you were proved wrong when you didn’t come. Again. You weren’t really the hook-up type, in fear of catching some unwanted disease or infection. Finally, you took matters into your own hands, literally, and masturbated with your fingers until you orgasmed all over your bed sheets.
See? It wasn’t impossible.
Then why couldn’t you come with other people? It had to be your fault. It had to be.
So, again, you were left here in the small hospital room sitting between empty stirrups with your ankles tightly crossed. The widening of the wooden door alerted you, your eyes shooting towards the man entering the room.
A guy? Your gynecologist was a guy?
You knew you were a decently healthy person because you were always on track with your appointments, even small check-ups. Because of your good wellness, you had never needed to go to the gyno. Until now, which seemed a bit nerve-racking all of a sudden.
The second the doctor turned around, you knew exactly why.
Warm, brown eyes peer at you with tenderness. Chestnut curls rest upon his head a little messily, but in the cutest way. He wore a professional lab coat over his casual clothing. His ribbed shirt and blue jeans seemed to match him perfectly. His cheeks appear a tinge pink when he smiles, welcoming and greeting you.
Oh shit.
“I’m Dr. Parker, and you are?” Dr. Parker asks as he plops onto his spinny chair. His eyes stare deeply into yours, causing your heart to race more than you’d like to admit. His voice was as attractive as his face, and you tried to convince yourself that he had to have at least one bad quality that you just haven’t seen yet, so you didn’t soak your panties.
“Y/N,” You blink to wash away the feeling of your nerves as your palms get clammy. “but you probably knew that already.”
“That is true, but I like for my patients to introduce themselves to me directly,” He states simply and you nod in response. Your sweaty hands interlocked over your thighs to ease yourself.
“So, what brings you in here today, Y/N?” Dr. Parker questions with a lick of his lips. He can’t help himself when his eyes drift nonchalantly, but quickly down your body. You were beautiful, which made it hard to concentrate on anything else, especially when you started talking. Your voice was silky, and he wanted to ask you more questions just so he could hear it more.
“I…” You were a bit embarrassed to share your reasoning. Was it common? Will he laugh at you? No, of course not, he’s a doctor! You battled with yourself in your head before spitting it out. “I can’t come during sex.”
Your jaw clenched as your hand practically hit your forehead in embarrassment. You couldn’t look at him because he was probably holding back a laugh. But you also couldn’t look at him because he was so handsome you might melt.
True be told, Peter already knew why you were here. He read the small report the nurse got before he entered. It was part of protocol and he wanted to hear you describe it yourself.
“That’s okay, darling. Nothing to be ashamed of,” He reassures gently as you remove your hand from your face. He smiles sincerely and you smile bashfully back. The nickname erupts butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t disregard the small wetness you feel trickle in your underwear.
When he asks, you go on to explain your situation in detail, even including the part about your ex-boyfriend dumping you. When Peter hears this, his jaw subtly clenches as irritation spreads through him.
Who breaks up with someone for that? He wanted to ask, but knew that was probably inappropriate. He does need to question you professionally though to ensure there’s nothing wrong. However, he thinks he already knows the answer.
“I’m going to ask you some questions that get pretty personal,” Parker faces his notes with you in the corner of his eye. You nod as your nervousness never fades and your heart beat remains quite fast.
Most of his questions were simple and straightforward, so you weren’t too ashamed to answer.
“Do you have any pain?”
“No.”
“Are you on birth control?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Two years,” You eyes strayed away from him, thumbs twiddling in your lap like an anxious child. He wonders how you got birth control without going to the gynecologist in the past, seeming as though you’ve had no history.
However, some questions made the heat rise to your cheeks. Your arousal worsened the more Dr. Parker spoke, his voice warm and soothing like honey.
“To clarify, you have orgasmed before, correct?” Peter was able to focus when his eyes were glued to his papers, but one glance at your adorable shyness and his cock was semi-hard in his boxers.
“Yes, I-I did it myself,” You hissed at yourself for stuttering. He made you so starstruck it was hard to form words. You didn’t meet many people like that in your life— now that you think of it, none at all. He surveys you for a moment you think was a little too long, and you tighten your ankles together at his burning gaze.
“Um,” He grunts, covering it up with a cough as his cheeks turn pink a tad more. Your lip subtly curls into a smile at his cuteness. Peter was nervous for the first time in a while, fingers shaking as he scribbled notes about you. He felt as silly as a child who had a crush on a classmate. “you seem very well.”
“So nothing’s wrong?” Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion, a lost expression cascading over your face when you feel like you’ve hit a dead end. You gaze at the floor, trying to understand.
“Not directly,” He says to reassure you. Your eyes meet his with a head tilt. Now, you were really confused.
“What do I do then?”
“Don’t have sex with idiots,” He grumbles, honestly hoping you didn’t hear it. But of course you did. Your heart rate quickens wildly in your chest at his blunt statement. “but to make sure, I’m going to check you, okay?”
Your eyes widen for a moment, not thinking you would have to be checked. Your thoughts immediately shoot to your soaked panties and how he’ll see your very visual arousal. Hopefully, he assumes it’s from nerves.
“Would you like to change into something more comfortable and accessible?” He asks, looking at your shirt with jean shorts. He checks most of his patients, so usually they would have been in a gown already. But at this hospital, the patient didn’t have to change, even though it was highly recommended. However, when they rarely denied the new wardrobe, the doctor had to undress the patient themselves. So far in Peter’s career, he’s only had to do that with incidents that were an emergency.
“No, thank you,” You answered with no explanation. Secretly, you hated the material of the gown and you swore it gave you rashes. Maybe you were allergic?
Dr. Parker nods once and turns to his little side table beside you. He slips on his blue gloves and tells you exactly what he’s going to do, so you’re not unprepared.
“And since you’re not in a gown, the protocol is that I must undress you myself,” Peter feels the burning red flame up his cheeks at his statement. Your eyes widen again at the image of the sensual action, but nod in understanding.
Who made that rule? You wanted to ask, but it seemed disrespectful. You honestly couldn’t tell if you loved or hated the person that invented that idea. Picturing Dr. Parker strip you only made a pool in your panties.
Peter’s gloved fingers unbutton and zip down your jean shorts with your permission. It was slow and steady, unlike your heart that was bouncing off the walls of your ribs. You know he could see your heavy breathing as your stomach rose up and down too quickly under the thin material of your shirt.
Your shorts were removed and then he was on to your underwear.
Peter’s cock pulsed in his jeans at the wet patch on your panties, his red blush never fading. He wanted to press the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit. He would rub you over the flimsy fabric and then make you moan for him as he fucked you roughly with his fingers. He could assume that you were tight and tense because of your struggle to orgasm with another person, but the thought only made his cock twitch needily as he imagined you squeezing around him.
“Are you okay so far? And can I remove these?” He asks for consent and patiently waits. You nod, but he’s not having that. “Words, Y/N. I need you to say it.”
His demand caused you to clench around nothing as you stutter out a trembling yes, so he can proceed. Peter delicately removes your panties, sliding them down your supple legs and placing them with your shorts. You didn’t open your legs, but you knew he’d already seen the wetness leaking out of you.
“Okay, um,” His professionalism was fading from him. He wanted to devour you because you probably tasted amazing. The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, making it hard to focus on anything. “Put your legs on these stirrups. I’ll help you.”
He guides your legs into the holders, strongly resisting the urge to gawk at your vulnerable area. Once you were settled, he looked down and nearly came right there. Arousal drowned your folds as your puffy clit poked out behind it all. He noticed the fluttering of your folds as the cold air hit your wetness. He wouldn’t need to use any lube on you for sure. Peter was losing his cool and was about to lose everything if he did not pull himself together.
“I’m about to start. Are you okay?” He could sense your nervousness from a mile away. He wanted to make sure you were okay, even if you’ve had sex multiple times before.
“Yes, doctor,” You reassure and his jaw subtly locks at his label leaving from your mouth. He avoids picturing his falling from your pretty lips, so he could focus on the task at hand. You didn’t notice, too caught up in your own thoughts of his fingers entering you. You wanted him to pound them into you mercilessly because you know he’d know all the right spots and special places to hit. You can imagine he’s soft and caring, and always gives immense pleasure to the woman.
You almost gasp aloud when you come to a realization; he probably has a girlfriend. Or a wife. A wife and kids. You don’t remember seeing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Oh, God, you were daydreaming sexual thoughts about your gynecologist who would probably freak out if he could hear them.
“If it makes you more comfortable, my name is Peter. Sometimes that small detail helps the patients relax more,” He noticed your sudden panicked state and high tension in your legs, wanting to calm you down, so it doesn’t hurt. It was perfectly fine to be nervous, but it wasn’t fine for him to be this nervous. He’s a professional doctor, yet he’s thinking about ruining it all just to please you at this moment.
You feel the latex gloves graze your folds, making your heart jump up into your throat. Peter’s middle finger practically teases your entrance, and you hold back pathetic whimpers. Once he slips his middle finger inside, you release a shuddery moan. His finger stills, deep inside of you while he gives you a second to adjust.
“Relax for me,” You try not to clench around him, but you’re a lost cause when he begins to wiggle it around the tight space. Peter is struggling. His cock is about to burst at the seams while his middle finger sinks far inside you. Your clenching walls and hushed noises nearly make him moan. He sees you resisting the urge to moan and it’s killing him because he wants to hear you.
“You can moan,” Peter says, voice low and sultry. “It’s welcomed.” He curls his finger and slowly pushes in and out. You don’t hold back your moan this time as lust begins to fill your vision. It feels too good, even though you know it’s wrong. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his skilled finger and his concentrated expression.
Peter is positive you’re enjoying this. He can’t resist you anymore when he has you spread open for him. Plus, he found nothing peculiar inside, you seemed healthy. He could stop now if he’d like, but the contraction of your pussy walls around his finger and the sweet whimpers you’re eliciting spur him to continue.
“How does this feel, Y/N?” Peter’s voice was gravelly and lustful; you were sure to catch on by now. His question was borderline professional, yet inappropriate. At this point, Peter couldn’t care less because your face said it all.
“Good, really good,” You admitted with fluttering eyes as your hands gripped the sides of your shirt. Your name out of his mouth made you melt into his touch as you instinctively grinded your hips into his hand.
“What about this?” His ring finger slides in effortlessly, and they both curl inside you. You gasp, eliciting another shaky moan. His digits were thick and just the right length to satisfy you without even needing his cock, even though you wanted it. “God, you’re so tight. Imagine what you’d feel like around my cock.” He grumbles.
You gasp at his sudden profound language, but the dirtiness only made you more aroused. Your brain imagined how his cock would look buried so deep inside of you that you’d feel him in your stomach. You imagine this pre-cum leaking from his tip as he pulls out of you just to slam back in. Your core tensed at the thought.
“I didn’t hear you, Y/N,” He grunts gravelly, slowing his movements. He slips his fingers out, removing the glove swiftly. You whine at the emptiness, answering him. He was so sweet, yet dirty, and you loved it.
“So good! It feels so good, please don’t stop,” You plead and he smirks in satisfaction as he continues. His thumb rolls over your puffy clit, making your hips press into his hand as he slips back in. Your thighs contracted as they begged to close, but the locked stirrups blocked you from doing so.
“Who’s making you feel this good?” His tone was smooth and clear, almost contradicting his sinful actions. His pace becomes brutal, ramming in and out of you with no mercy. The rough texture of his bare hand sends a shiver up your spine as your orgasm nears.
“You! You, Peter,” Your chest heaves as choked moans leave your lips. His digits rub your throbbing nerves as his fingers glide against your walls addictingly good. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of your trembling thighs. His lips raise in another smirk as his cheeks flush that familiar pink. “I’m close, Peter,” You whimper, causing him to hiss at the harsh pulsing of his shaft when his name falls delicately from your lips just how he imagined.
“I know, honey. Can feel you clenching around me,” He groans when you release another noise of pleasure. His eyes wander down to your aching cunt as his fingers become drenched in your juices. You’re squeezing him torturously, on the edge of your break.
“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me?”
Without another moment, your orgasm ripples through your body with a blissful wail. Clenched muscles and screwed eyes don’t even express the full ecstasy you feel. White liquid saturates Peter’s bare fingers before he licks them clean. It wasn’t the most sanitary, but he didn’t give one fuck.
Your face screams fucked out; perspired skin, droopy eyes, and a weary smile. In his ideal situation, he would have devoured you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But that was for another time. If there ever was another time, which he hoped there would be.
Just maybe not in a hospital.
“Well, Y/N, it seems like you are very healthy,” Peter grins, taking the tissues to clean you thoroughly. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks at his joking comment.
“Thanks, doctor,” Your voice came out a bit squeaky while your heart continued to stammer in your chest.
“After that, I think you should call me Peter,” He chuckles, sliding away in his stool to discard the tissues. Heat burns your skin from his adorable laugh.
“Peter it is then,” He helps you down the stirrups and you begin to get dressed with a goofy smile curling on your face. Peter doesn’t fail to notice this as his thoughts begin to wander. He knows he just met you, but he wants to see where this goes. He is confident that you’re interested in him (at least enough for him to finger you), so maybe asking you out isn’t the crazy idea he’s ever had.
“Y/N?” Suddenly, he didn’t feel so confident.
“Yeah?” Your response was breathless.
“Would you, um,” Peter hesitated to find the words. He really was like a little kid talking to his crush for the first time. “like to go out sometime? Maybe?”
You admire his bashfulness. He anxiously rolls up his coat sleeves while his face displaces a rosy blush. His brown eyes twinkled with hope as he waited for a reply.
“I would like that, doctor,” You smile genuinely and sweetly, your joyful energy calming his pent-up nerves. “I mean Peter.” You giggle when he blushes.
“Okay, okay, this is great. Here’s my number,” Peter scribbles messily on a small sheet of note paper, handing it to you. It was adorable how nervous he was for being a well-respected doctor who waltzed in with a sweet kind of confidence. You were giddy as well, but you were way better at hiding it clearly. You snatch the sheet with your fingers, tucking it away in your palm.
“Do you do this with all your patients, Dr. Parker?” You tease with a quirked eyebrow and a pointed finger at his chest. Peter huffs out a chuckle while clicking his tongue.
“Only the most beautiful ones,” He gently lifts your finger, kissing it gently before striding out of the room. Peter doesn’t forget to leave an arrogant wink as the heavy, wooden door closes abruptly.
Maybe being a doctor does make him arrogant. Sometimes.
You stand frozen, starstruck. Your breathing was back to heaving again because he left you breathless. And speechless. You jokingly wondered for a minute if you would die from a heart attack, due to the rapid thumping of a stupid organ against your ribs. Curious, you open your palm and unfold the slip of paper he wrote hastingly. Glancing past the number, you notice the small words underneath.
Please, call me Peter.
yesss tell me what you think :)
4K notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 1 year
Text
Wall Crawling Lover Boy
Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, wall sex, power use, whimpering (Peter), bareback, the costume stays mostly on, grinding, creampie, teasing, post-mission sex, sex pollen, needy Peter Parker, horny Peter Parker
Word count: 1.6k
Ao3
A/N: I don't know how this got into my head cause I was just writing a sweet domestic post with the MCU characters and then I have no idea what happened.
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Waiting for Peter to come back from patrol was a nightly routine for you. He was rarely late and when he was he would call to tell you, this applied most when the two of you had date nights planned out. Tonight was one such night, you had movies and snacks ready as you knew he'd be a little hungry after a mission.
The opening of your window no longer gave you pause as there was only one person who would climb up to open and enter through. Instead of him smiling and arms open for a hug you saw Pete with his mask in his hand, both hands crossed over his crotch and face as red as his suit, looking very flustered and uncomfortable.
Worried you made quick strides towards him, movie and snacks forgotten, "Peter? What's wrong? You don't look so..." He flinched back from your touch, looking to be in some kind of psychical pain. Your fingers barely skimmed his skin feeling how overheated it was, "You're really warm. Did something go wrong?"
Peter blinked, choosing not to meet your eyes, "No..." He tried to shrug it off, shifting under your unyielding gaze, your arms crossed over your chest, "Sort of. I have a... um, a... um... problem."
"What kind of problem?" You raised your eyebrow looking him over once again. He didn't seem hurt, just restless.
With a groan and some hesitation he moved his hands to his sides, revealing a bulge and a wet spot on the front of his suit. "This kind."
"Oh." You answered, surprised, "Was the villain a really hot lady?" You teased, but let some jealousy slip though.
"No! She was a lady but not hotter then you. I don't know what she did to me! It was toward the end of the fight, she was losing and then injected me with something. I had to tail it out of there before the cops and the photographers showed up. Can you imagine the headlines?"
"Spider-Man gets a boner while fighting a villainess. It would sell." You jabbed at him playfully, and all he did was hide his hands behind his hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed groan. Even with a raging boner he was still so cute. "I'm sorry." Your chuckle made it very obvious that you weren't sorry in the slightest.
Peter let out a heavy sigh, troubled by his current predicament. Sure he managed to save face, in the public eye at least, yet now he was standing in front of you, clearly wanting, needy, vibrating and shaking with lust.
He's been pent up before, after long missions. He knew the benefits of masturbation but he also knew how good it felt to spill in your hand before you took his cock inside of you and fucked the rest of his cum out with your pussy. That's clearly what he needed right now too, but he was too much of a sweetheart to ask.
"I'll go and take a-"
"Want some help with that?"
His eyes widened significantly, mask falling to the ground in silence. He was left stunned for a few seconds, his body going rigid, the dark stain on the front of his pants growing bigger as his cock twitched. In a blink of an eye he was in front of you, not only that but he grabbed you under your thighs and pinned you up on the nearest wall, his thighs under you to support your weight and his fingers digging into the wall so much you though he was gonna leave a dent.
"You mean it? You wanna help me with it?" His hips rolled into yours, his breath coming out in deep, loud, hot puffs against your ear. You nodded, placing a light kiss on Peter's cheek. He was more pent up then you thought. The moment you reached down to free his cock and give it a few strokes he was already rolling his hips desperately into your hand, whimpering, "Cu-ah! Babe I'm-!
Ropes of cum exploded over your hand and lower stomach, "Shit." You let out a long breath, feeling more then seeing how hot and hard and slippery his cock was in your hand. Your thumb moved to circle and soothe the aching tip, drawing more strings of cum with every swipe. "I don't think there was ever this much. I kinda wanna know what was in that shot."
"I don't. You already make me walk around with a boner, this... this is just torture." If he had this much cum stored up then it's a miracle he even got to your apartment without incident. "I needed that. It felt like my dick and balls were about to explode."
"Can't let that happen, you know how much I love them." With your other hand you coaxed his lips towards yours, "And the person they belong to even more."
"Yourself?" Peter winked at you playfully. His sense of humor was coming back, not the only thing that was coming though, his cock was still throbbing under your hand.
"Well I do love myself, but I was talking about you in this case." You squeezed his cock at the base and very slowly dragged your hand up, savoring the way his eyes closed and the little whimper he barely held back.
His cock clearly needed more then just your hand, it needed something to sink into. Something you knew he needed fast or he was gonna ruin your clothes again.
"What are you waiting for lover boy? Don't you want my pussy?" Just hearing the word made him thrust his hips forward. You felt like you were playing a dangerous game with a dangerous spider, something that you never felt with Peter before. He looked only seconds away from fucking you into the wall.
Normally his hands were calm, precise, gentle when handling you, now they were shaking, needy, rough as they pulled your pants and your panties down, his finger wiping away the wetness before he got his bearings on the wall again.
He was so driven mad by lust that he couldn't even wait to get inside of you, he just started thrusting wildly against your naked pussy, "Fuck! Fuck!" He whined and growled against your lips, his forehead slick with sweat gathering at his brows, "Want to be inside you so much."
"I know, I know." You calmed him down with a few soft kisses, "I need you too. It's a little unfair that you came already and I'm still left hanging don't you think?"
"I'll make you come." He rolled his hips again, this time the head finally slid into place, "So warm." He leaned his forehead against yours as his cock went all the way inside of your cunt, "Oh my god. I can feel you around me." He barely rolled his hips forward before he screamed against your shoulder, another unexpected flood of cum releasing from his cock, "Sorry." His voice shook just as much as his body as he clumsily started thrusting into you, intent on making good in his word.
You pulled him close, your arms and legs locking around him, trusting in him to keep you from falling. Although the sheer force of his thrusts was enough to make sure of that, bouncing you up with every deep hit of his cock against the entrance to your womb.
The constant, loud, sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and of Peter's full balls slapping against you, filled your ears while your mind and pussy only wanted one thing: his cum, again. Fuck was the thing he was hit with transferable? If so then you needed to get it out of your systems quickly.
"Peter, please, I need it. My pussy full of your cum." The words traveled straight into his cock and hips, bucking forward with urgent need.
"I got you babe. I'll make that hole so full just like you need. But first you need to come for me. You can do that for me can't you? You can... fuck... squeeze my cock with that good, wet cunt and milk me dry." Peter was no stranger to dirty talk but he never asked something like this of you so directly and without an ounce of hesitation. "Come. Wanna feel you come!"
He was whimpering as he held back, waiting for you. There was no point in dragging this out anymore. "Just don't keep me waiting lover boy." Your body feel against his as your orgasm reached it's peak, flooding his cock and balls with your cum, all the while he kept going, making you see white.
Peter didn't intend to keep you waiting, he was right behind you, drilling his cock into your spasming pussyhole, each thrust harder and longer then the last until he stayed like that, hips against yours, his cum flowing into you.
He slowly slid down the wall, his cock falling out and causing the cum to run out like a river. Peter frowned again gathered some of it on his finger before pushing it inside of you, "That should stay in there."
"You think so?" You wiggled your hips and squeezed around his finger. Peter let out a long breath, nodding at you, his finger flexing forward a little, "Then maybe you should put something bigger in." Your eyes fell on his still rock hard cock.
"I think so too. I also think I'm gonna need to take a weekend off. I wanna spend it balls deep inside your pussy."
"Funny, I was thinking the same thing. Now take me to the bedroom, I wanna see how much I need to ride you to make that go down." Peter flashed you his familiar charming grin and swooped you up, and keeping his word pushed his cock back into you, making you let out a long groan and making you pussy flutter with a growing need.
This was gonna take a long time.
2K notes · View notes
buckrecs · 11 months
Text
𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 : 𝙅𝙪𝙣𝙚
masterlist | monthly fic rec masterlist
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FLUFF
Exhausted by @moonvis
Uncle Bucky by @/moonvis
Trying To Study by @pitubea1910
Secure Your Back by @writingcroissant
poppies and babies’ breath by @lizzie-is-here
More than friends by @theeleggymeggy
Lovesick by @/theeleggymeggy
Protecting What’s His by @jobean12-blog (bodyguard!bucky)
Pieces of Us by @majestyeverlasting
As Many As You Want by @/majestyeverlasting
How I Met Your Father by @pomelo-villano
Nerd by @imgoingtofreakoutnow
Trouble Doubled by @certifiedskywalker
magnetic mishaps by @aneluvs
Angel Eyes by @killatravtramp
hint dropped by @rocketrhap3000
pre-mission blues by @buckysblanket (husband!bucky)
Nightmares by @waiting4inspiration
Safe and Sound by @talesofesther
voicemails by @lovelybarnes
Chicken Soup for the Soul by @sebbytrash
Baking (fails) with bucky by @winter-soldier-vibes
booked on a feeling by @intrepidacious (librarian!bucky)
Theater by @loving-barnes
Sleepyhead by @tom-holland-parker
A Good Man by @/tom-holland-parker
A New Uniform by @hopelessromantic423
Manicure by @itsapeterthing
Speechless by @/itsapeterthing
I’ll Stop The World And Melt With You by @shamevillain
Flustered 2 by @/lovelybarnes
Aroma by @navybrat817
The Animal Within by @/navybrat817
ending unplanned by @starryevermore (bookstore au)
only angel by @cherryrogers (40s!bucky)
IDGAF by @amandaoftherosemire
Sleepy by @sunflowers-and-bucky
Happy Beans by @/rookthorne (barista!bucky)
Imagine by @buckyalpine
Shy Boy by @hiddles-and-skittles
A Good Man by @beyondspaceandstars
Meet The Parents by @/navybrat817
before sunset, i fell by @atlaese (modern au)
Lemonade and shields by @/atlaese
Old Fashioned by @rookthorne
ANGST
Tip of the Tongue by @bucky-fricking-barnes
Who Did This To You? by @espinosaurusrexex
“Accidentally” by @/pomelo-villano
Just Tell Her by @girl-next-door-writes
New Love by @ro-is-struggling
jealousy, jealousy by @malum-forev
Jealous by @sweetbbarnes
A New Life? by @/waiting4inspiration (phoenix!reader)
We mend each other by @/talesofesther
Green by @/itsapeterthing
Smoke by @shurisneakers
The Ultimatum by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky
feel me by @flordeamatista (siren!reader)
youngblood by @sebbies (boxer!bucky)
Safe Place To Land by @sunlightdances (modern au)
Too Much (Not Enough) by @touchstarvedirl
SMUT
Be it revenge or moving on by @writingsoftheloser
Cherry by @sweetdreamsbuck (camboy!bucky)
Your Daddy Did It Better by @princessbellecerise (billionaire!bucky)
Wrapped In Red by @/flordeamatista
2K notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 1 year
Text
Bringing Sexy Back
Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Synopsis: Peter tries and fails to seduce you
Masterlist
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To kick off the summer, Tony organized a group vacation to a resort at “one of his less crowded islands”, as he put it. The team sat together on the quinjet while Tony gave out the room assignments to everyone, ending with you and Peter.
“Parker and my beloved offspring, you’re in the penthouse suit with me. But don’t worry, you guys have your own room. It’s just connected to mine with thin walls and a door I can easily break down.” Tony said with a calm smile.
“Thanks, dad.” You smiled back at him before excusing yourself to go to the bathroom. Once you were gone, Sam leaned over to him.
“Wow, I feel for you, man. You really got the short end of the stick.” Sam said and patted Peters back.
“Short? I’m 5’8. That’s average height.” Peter defended himself.
“For a woman.” Sam snorted. “But that’s not what I meant.”
“What did you mean?” Peter wondered.
“I mean you finally get to spend the night with your girlfriend and her dad is in the next room. That means the only way you’re getting laid is if you crawl up a chicken's ass and wait.” Sam replied, making everyone laugh at Peters's expense.
“Oh. That’s gotta hurt.” Bruce laughed. “It hurt me and it wasn’t even directed at me.”
“That’s called a ricochet.” Natasha said. “Also done by bullets and Taylor Swifts tears.”
“I understood that reference.” Steve chimed in.
“Did you?” Peter asked skeptically, making Steve’s smile fall.
“That’s the one that sings “Single Ladies”, right?” He whispered to Natasha.
“Uh huh.” Natasha smiled sarcastically.
“Are you gonna take that, Parker?” Bruce asked Peter. Peter noticed everyone was looking at him and blushed in embarrassment.
“It wasn’t that clever. Chickens don’t even lay eggs. Hens do. And we don’t do that so it doesn’t matter.” He mumbled. Everyone’s eyes widths they leaned forward in their seats.
“Don’t do what?” Sam asked for clarification. Peter looked around at all the peering eyes and shrunk down in his seat.
“Sex.” Peter reluctantly admitted.
“You don’t do sex?” Sam laughed in surprise.
“Have we forgotten how to speak?” Natasha asked the crowd.
“Why are you guys all looking at me the way we looked at Bucky when he told us he didn’t wash his ass in the shower?” Peter asked.
“It honestly never crossed my mind.” Bucky shrugged.
“Hold on. How long have you guys been together?” Bruce asked Peter.
“Two months.”
“Two months? And you haven’t smushed yet?” Sam gasped.
“Ew. Smushed? There’s no actual smushing involved, right?” Peter forced a laugh. No one replied and his smile fell.
“Right?” He asked seriously.
“No offense kid, but that’s a long time to keep a lady waiting.” Steve said. “You two need to do a little bit of the old how’s yer father, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t. What the fuck does that mean?” Sam asked and pulled out his phone.
“Who are you to talk? Aren’t you a 1,000 year old virgin?” Peter deadpanned.
“100 years.” Steve corrected. “And yes. I am.”
“No he’s not.” Bucky said.
“I googled it. It was Steve’s old man way of saying putting some stank on it.” Sam read off his phone.
“Why haven’t you guys done it yet?” Natasha wondered. “It’s not like you just met. You’ve known her for years.”
“Yeah, but she’s only been my girlfriend for two months of those years. It’s a big transition. We’re waiting for the right moment.”
“So you’ve talked about it?” Steve asked him.
“Well, no.” Peter admitted. “I’m just assuming.”
“Assuming what exactly?” Natasha asked.
“That’s she’s waiting for the right moment to tell me she wants to do it. And then it’ll just happen then.” Peter shrugged.
“Hm.” Natasha said curtly. Peter noticed the look on everyone’s face and grew worried.
“What?” He laughed nervously.
“Nothing.” Steve shrugged and avoided eye contact.
“You can’t make that face and say “hm” and then not tell me.” Peter insisted.
“I think she’s ready.” Steve admitted. “I think she’s more than ready. You’re the one who’s not ready. That’s why you haven’t made a move yet.”
“She could’ve made a move.” Peter pointed out.
“No girl wants that.” Sam waved his hand. “They want their man to take charge and sweep them off their feet. You know, romance? Making her feel special?”
“She hates being lifted off her feet.” Peter insisted. “I picked her up once and she punched me in the throat and the bing bongs at the same time.”
“Hey, I taught her that move. I’m glad to see she’s using it.” Natasha smiled proudly.
“I have to agree with Sam on this one.” Steve said. “Girls like a romantic gesture. I’m not saying you have to literally sweep her off her feet, but make it clear that you want her. Or else she’s gonna start to feel under appreciated and unseen.”
“You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re waiting and that’s okay.” Peter insisted.
“She’s waiting. For you. To make a God damn move already.” Sam replied.
“And you know what happens if you wait too long?”
“What happens?” Peter gulped.
“She’ll find someone who’s ready now.” Sam shrugged.
“Well what am I supposed to do? How do I make her feel special?”
“She was your best friend before your girlfriend right?” Bruce asked him.
“Yeah.”
“So she should be the person you’re most comfortable with. Just make a move. She’ll make a move in return. That’s how it works.” Bruce explained.
“Just like that?” Peter asked skeptically.
“Just like that.” Sam confirmed. By the point, you were back from the bathroom and sitting in a seat by yourself. Peter graced himself before going over to sit beside you.
“Hey.” Peter smiled at you.
“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled back.
“Nothing much. Just wanted to come sit by my lady.” He said and wrapped an arm around you.
“Aw. You’re so cute.” You smiled and leaned into him.
“You’re cute. Are these new?” He asked and tugged on the hem of your shorts.
“New to me.” You shrugged. “I stole them from Pepper.”
“I like them. They look good on you.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the compliment and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Peter blushed and looked over his shoulder at Sam, who was nodding his head to give him the go ahead. Peter nodded back before returning his attention to you. He went to put his hand on your thigh, but since the action was unnatural to him, he ended up grabbing your thigh so quickly and harshly that you jumped.
“Oh my God. What was that?” You gasped and pushed his hand off.
“Sorry. There was a spider on your leg.” Peter quickly lied.
“And you killed it? Isn’t that like…cannibalism?” You asked him.
“No.” Peter chuckled. “Wait. Oh my God. Is it?”
“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “But thanks for killing it. I didn’t even feel it on my leg.”
“Hm. Weird.” Peter forced a laugh. He looked over at Sam again, who was shaking his head in disappointment.
“This is gonna be harder than I thought.” Peter thought to himself.
With Tony in the room right next store, Peter didn’t dare try anything while on the vacation. But once you returned to the tower a week later, it was game time.
“Peter? Are you in here?” You asked as you knocked on his bedroom door one day.
“One second, baby. I’m in the shower.” Peter called to you from the bathroom in his room.
“Okay. I’ll wait out here.” You shouted back and took a seat on his bed. Peter heard your response and thought back to what the team said about making a move. Before he could second guess himself, he called out again.
“You don’t have to do that. Why don’t you join me?”
“What? I can’t hear you over the water.” You said as you walked over to the bathroom door so he could hear you better.
“I didn’t say anything.” He lied when he felt he had failed.
“Oh. It sounded like you did.” You laughed and leaned against his bathroom door.
“That was just the sound of my shampoo bottle falling.” Peter lied.
“Oh. Okay.” You answered skeptically. You were about to go back to his bed when you heard a loud thud.
“Peter? What was that? Did you shampoo fall again?” You opened the door a little to ask him.
“No. My body did.” Peter groaned from the shower floor.
“Oh no. Are you okay?”
“Not really.” He winced. “I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Do you need help?”
“Yeah, but…” Peter began but trailed off.
“But what?” You asked.
“I’m nakey.” He said in a little voice.
“I’ll close my eyes, okay?” You laughed.
“You don’t have to. I just wanted to warn you that you’re about to see the biggest penis you’ve ever seen.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh again.
“Oh really? Is Thor in there?” You asked.
“That was hurtful.”
“You’re such an idiot. I’m coming in, okay? Hide your massive penis.” You warned as you entered the bathroom.
“I’ll try. But it won’t be easy.” Peter sighed. You opened the shower door with your elbow while covering your eyes with both hands.
“I’m here. Can you see me?” You asked him.
“Why would o not be able to see you? You’re the one with your eyes covered.”
“Oh. Right. Where are you?”
“The floor. Because I fell. That’s typically where people end up after they fall.”
“I should just leave you here to drown.” You said and turned to leave.
“Wait, come back. Please.” Peter whined. “They’ll never find a casket big enough to hold my massive schlong.”
“I hate you so much.” You laughed and came back. You bent down and helped him off the floor but grabbing his arm.
“Ah!” You screamed and dropped his arm.
“What?”
“You’re wet.” You grimaced.
“I’m in the shower.” He reminded you.
“I don’t know why but I wasn’t expecting you to be wet. Put my hand on the knob. I’ll turn it off.” You told him. Peter took your hand and guided it to the knob while you kept your eyes tightly shut. You heard the sound of the water turning off and Peter sighing in relief.
“There we go. Much better.” He said.
“Okay. I’m gonna pick you up now.” You told him and bent down to wrap your arms around his torso.
“Ah!” He screamed.
“What?”
“That tickles.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “Where’s your robe?”
“Hanging on the back of the door.” He told you. You kept your eyes shut but walked over to the door and felt around until you found his robe.
“Okay. I found it.”
“Throw it at me.” Peter said. You threw it outwards and it smacked him in the face. “You got it?”
“Yes. Ow.” Peter huffed as he put it on.
“Sorry.” You grimaced.
“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”
“Okay.” You said but didn’t open them.
“Baby. You open them.” Peter laughed.
“Sorry. I got scared.” You admitted as you opened your eyes.
“Of what?” Peter gulped, thinking you were scared to see him naked.
“Of seeing you on the shower floor and getting the biggest ick of my entire life.” You replied, making Peter laugh in relief.
“Fair enough.”
“Come on, little guy. I gotcha.” You bent down and helped him up with ease now that you could see.
“What did we say about calling me “little guy”?” Peter reminded you.
“That it’s funny and hilarious?” You asked innocently as you helped lead him out of the bathroom.
“Those are synonyms.”
“What about cinnamon?”
“What?”
“What?” You asked in reply. He shook his head endearingly as you walked him over to his bed.
“Okay. We’re here. Sit down.” You said and helped him into his bed.
“Well that was fun. And wet.” Peter said as he combed his wet hair out of his face with his fingers.
“You’re telling me.” You said and showed him your now soaking wet shirt.
“Sorry about that. You can grab a shirt from my closet.” He told you.
“Thanks.” You smiled at him before going over to his closet. You pulled out a T shirt and we’re about to put it on when you felt his eyes on you. You looked over your shoulder at him and he turned red.
“I’ll close my eyes.” Peter offered.
“It’s okay. You can watch. I don’t mind.” You smiled innocently at him before turning back around. Peter gulped as you pulled your shirt off and stayed perfectly silent. He could see your bra band when your hair moved and though it wasn’t much, it was as naked as he had ever seen you. You’d never been in so much as bathing suits around the other so this showing of skin was both unexpected but highly anticipated. Peter watched you pull his shirt over your head and fix your hair before turning back around.
“Better?” He asked in a soft voice.
“Better.” You nodded. He couldn’t help but wonder if you knew about the conversation he had had with the team. It wasn’t like you to get changed in front of him so maybe you weren’t trying to make a move as well.
“How’s your ankle feeling?” You asked as you sat on Peters bed.
“Not bad. I think it’s already healing.” He said and moved his robe to look at it.
“Good. You need it to climb walls and shoot webs out of your butt and stuff.”
“I have told you so many times.” Peter sighed. “The webs do not come out of my butt.”
“There is no doubt in my mind that you’re lying and just won’t show me. And that’s fine.” You shrugged.
“You’re ridiculous.” He laughed and took your hand.
“Yeah. Maybe a little.” You chuckled and played with his fingers. A comfortable silence filled the room as Peter started to form a plan in his head.
“So.” He laughed nervously. “Here we are. In my room. Alone.”
“I know. It’s nice.”
“You think so?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Yeah. It’s so rare we get time when no one else is around. It can finally just be the two of us.” You said and reached out to brush some hair off his forehead. Peter felt his whole face flush and scooted a little closer to you.
“I’ve actually been hoping we’d get some alone time.” He told you.
“Me too.” You smiled coyly and leaned in a little.
“Did you have anything in mind you want to do?” He asked and leaned in as well.
“I could think of a few things.” You flirted.
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“For starters, you’ll have to lose this robe.” You said and ran your hand along the collar of his robe. Peter gulped as you got up and went back over to his closet.
“Done.” Peter nodded as he frantically started to undo the belt of his robe.
“And put this on.” You said as you tossed him some pajamas.
“Whatever you say, pretty girl. Wait, what? What’s this?” Peters smile fell when the pajamas fell into his lap.
“Pajamas. So you can get comfy and we can finally watch New Girl before it leaves Netflix.” You told him.
“Oh. Right. Pajamas. I’ll just put these on.” Peter tried to mask the disappointment in his voice as he tugged his shirt over his head. By the time you were snuggled into his side with your head on his shoulder, his disappointment was gone. He had gotten so caught up in what the team had said that he forgot to appreciate the little moments with you. He let it go for tonight and just enjoyed spending time together.
The next day, he was back on his bullshit. He found you in the kitchen with your back to him as you flipped through a magazine. Peter and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your shoulder to let you know he meant business.
“Hey you.” He said as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Hey Petey. What’s going on?” You smiled over your shoulder at him.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”
“You’re so sweet lately. What’s gotten into you?”
“Nothing. I just really like you.” He replied and kissed your shoulder again. He decided to make a move and tilted his chin a little higher so he could kiss your neck.
“Fuck me.” You whispered as you flipped a page of your magazine. Peter immediately perked up and turned you around, thinking his plan had worked.
“What was that?” He gulped as his face burned bright red.
“Sorry. Paper cut.” You said and held up your bleeding finger. Peter took a split second to realized you were cursing, not requesting, before jumping into action.
“Here. Let me help.” He said and gently took your finger. He walked to the bathroom with you and turned on the faucet. He was about to put in under the water when he got a different idea. He looked you right in the eyes as he took your finger into his mouth and sucked the blood off of it. You watched him as he did this and gulped a little.
“Peter?” You asked in a soft voice. A hope sparked in Peter’s chest that he had successfully made a move.
“Yes?”
“Do you have any idea how many germs you just put in my open wound?” You said, making all Peters hope disappear.
“Oh. Sorry.” He shook his head in embarrassment and held your finger under the running water.
“Why did you turn the water on and then suck it instead?” You asked him. Peter thought about lying, but knew it was no use.
“I…I thought it would be sexy.” He admitted.
“You thought sucking my paper cut would be sexy? Okay, Edward.” You snorted as you got a bandaid out of the cabinet for yourself.
“Edward? Who’s that?” Peter felt a hot flash of jealousy over the mention of another boys name. He normally wouldn’t have that reaction, but he was extra sensitive after what Steve said about you finding someone else.
“The vampire from Twilight. Relax.” You laughed in surprise.
“Oh. Right.” He smiled in embarrassment.
“Peter Parker. Were you jealous at the mere drop of another boys name?” You playfully gasped.
“Is that bad?” Peter asked as he helped put a bandaid on your finger.
“I don’t think it’s bad.” You shrugged. “I think it’s kinda hot that you’re the jealous type. As long as you don’t get all possessive on me.”
“I won’t. I’ve seen enough white women with “love her but leave her wild” tattooed on them to know better.” Peter replied, making you laugh.
“Well that’s good to hear. And for what it’s worth, you’ve proven to be a lovely boyfriend so far. I’ve really enjoyed these past few months.”
“So have I.” Peter smiled softly. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss to let him know all was forgiven.
“So why were you trying to be sexy before?” You asked once you pulled away.
“I don’t know. I was just trying to make a move.” He sheepishly admitted.
“Make a move? Why would you need to do that?” You laughed. Peter could barely conceal the disappointment that he felt from your response. It seemed like the number one thing on his mind right now was the last thing on yours.
“Oh. I don’t know.” He faked a smile. You took his face in your hands and made him look at you.
“Petey, if you want me, just take me.” You said like it was obvious.
So he took you.
Peter wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you with ease as he kissed you. You anchored your arms around his neck so that you wouldn’t slide off as he carried you to his room. Peter laid you down on his bed without ever breaking the kiss. Both of you could feel the electricity in the air and knew something big was about to happen. But before you could get too far, the door opened.
“Hey guys - stop screaming, it’s me.” Sam held up a hand when he was met with screams from you and Peter.
“We know it’s you. What do you want?” Peter groaned.
“Nothing. I’m just bored.” Sam shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich in his hand. You and Peter stared at him in disbelief of his inability to read a room while he noisily chewed his food.
“So what are you guys up to?” He asked and pointed between the two of you.
“Take a wild guess.” You said sarcastically.
“I would tell you what I think is happening.” Thor chuckled. “But I know that’s not the case since you two don’t-“
“Sam.” Peter cut him off.
“Did I say too much? Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.” Sam winked at Peter before leaving the room. The silence between you was uncomfortable as you struggled to know what to say.
“What was he about to say?” You asked an after a minute.
“I have no idea.” Peter lied. You looked at him and he knew he was caught.
“Don’t lie to me. Was he gonna say we don’t hook up?”
“Yeah. He was.” He admitted.
“You told him that?” You asked and got off his bed to put some distance between you.
“No. I would never.” He assured you. “It came up on the plane the other day. They were teasing me about you and it just kinda came out that we haven’t…you know.”
“Oh. Okay.” You nodded but didn’t seem fully convinced.
“I’m sorry. I know you like to be private.”
“It’s not your fault. I just worried that you had been complaining to them that we don’t…” You trailed off and Peter realized why you were upset.
“Honey. Never.” He assured you as he took your hand and gave it a squeeze. This seemed to ease your mind and you sat back down on his bed.
“Okay. Good.” You smiled in relief. Peter avoided looking at you as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.
“Does it bother you? That we haven’t done it yet?” He asked as a deep blush spread across his face.
“Well,-“ You began.
“Do you guys know the Hulu password?” Sam asked as he opened Peters door again.
“Get out!” Peter shouted and threw a pillow at him.
“I’m trying to watch Bridesmaids. Please.” Sam whined. “I’m desperate. They just added it back on there.”
“Oh my God.“ Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes, knowing the moment had lost.
“Go ask my dad or something.” You huffed.
“You guys suck. Not you, Y/n. Clearly.” Sam laughed at his own joke and left the room again. A awkward silence filled the room again and Peter felt like the worst person in the world. He knew it bothered you that he had told the team something personal and even worse, he could feel your disappointment in him.
“I’m gonna go.” You said to break the silence. You got off the bed and Peter felt you quickly slipping out of his hands.
“Wait! Don’t leave.” He pleaded.
“I have to go move my car.” You said hastily.
“Can we please talk about this?”
“I have to go move my car!” You exclaimed and swiftly left the room.
“I know you don’t have to do that!” He called after you. “We’ve watched New Girl together. I know you got that from Nick Miller.”
Peter let out a frustrated sigh and flopped on his bed. He wasn’t alone for long before Pepper and Thor knocked on his door.
“Hey, kiddo.” Pepper said kindly.
“Woah. Weird combo. Have you two ever interacted before?” Peter asked and pointed between the two of them. They looked at each other and shook their heads.
“No.” They said in unison.
“So what were you doing outside my door?”
“Not that we were listening to your entire conversation, but we were. And you guys need to talk about this.” Pepper said as she sat on Peters bed.
“We tried.” Peter sighed. “Sam kept interrupting.”
“But even before he interrupted, you weren’t really getting anywhere, were you?” Pepper asked kindly.
“What do you mean?”
“Neither of you could even say the word “sex”. How do you expect to do it if you can’t even say it?”
“I don’t know. I never thought about that.” Peter realized.
“You need to have a mature conversation with her about this. That’s the only way to know how she’s feeling and to let her know what you’re feeling.” Pepper said and patted Peters knee.
“Okay. I guess you’re right.”
“Or.” Thor began, getting Peter’s attention.
“Or? There’s another option?” Peter perked up.
“Yes. Here’s what you do. You seduce her. No words, only passion.”
“I’m listening.” Peter leaned in.
“You spray yourself with a sexy body spray. You put some sexy sheets on your bed. You lure her to your bedroom. You play a sexy song. You dim the lights because bad lighting is sexy. You light some sexy candles. You make the setting so irresistible that you won’t need words. She’ll know exactly what’s about to happen.” Thor told him.
“I think that’s a solid plan.” Peter nodded along.
“That’s a horrible plan.” Pepper exclaimed. “That is the dumbest plan I have ever heard. You clearly need to talk to her.”
“How sexy of a song are we talking here?” Peter ignored her.
“The sexiest. But don’t confuse that with raunchy. She’s not gonna get in the mood if she walks in to some degrading song. You need to pick the perfect playlist that does all the talking for you.” Thor told him.
“Or, you could do the talking for you.” Pepper suggested.
“No. I’m gonna go with Thors idea.” Peter decided.
“Huzzah!” Thor raised his arms in triumph.
“Huzzah? How come sometimes you soudn completly normal and sometimes you sound like a World of Warcraft character?” Peter asked him.
“I’m not familiar with this World of Warcraft. But if I had fought in it, I would’ve won.” Thor smiled proudly.
“Thanks for the advice guys. I know what im gonna do.”
The next day, the plan was in action. Peter found some red silk sheets from a box in Tony’s room labeled “my bachelor era” and put them on his bed. He doused himself with a cologne he borrowed from Bruce before taking off his shirt and rubbing baby oil all over his chest, leaving him in just his black boxers. He looked at himself in the mirror and flexed his muscles.
“Perfect.” He decided. Now it was time to lure you in, just like Thor told him.
“FRIDAY, play Careless Whisper. George Michael.” Peter requested.
“Playing Careless Whisper.” FRIDAY said and the song began to blast from the speakers.
“Thank you. Now dim the lights.”
“Dimming, sir.” FRIDAY complied.
“Time to lure.” Peter smiled wickedly. He pulled out his phone and tried to text you but his fingers were too slippery from the baby oil.
“Damn it. FRIDAY, text Y/n stark and tell her to meet me in my room. And say it’s urgent.”
“Texting Tony and Y/n Stark.” FRIDAY, replied, but the music was too loud for Peter to hear it.
“The trap is set. Now we wait.” Peter excitedly rubbed his hands together and turned around. It wasn’t long before he heard his door opening behind him.
“Peter? Are you in here?” He heard your voice and slowly turned around.
“Well hello - TONY?! I mean, Mr. Stark? What, uh, what are you doing here?” Peter laugh nervously and covered his crotch with his hands. You looked at his piled up body and boxers and slapped both hands over your mouth to stifle your laugh. Once you realized what song was playing, you had to turn around so your dad didn’t see you losing it.
“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? Are you covered in sunblock?” Tony asked him.
“No. It’s baby oil.” Peter sheepishly admitted.
“Was that supposed to make this less weird?” Tony asked out of the corner of his mouth.
“Why is he here?” Peter whined and looked at you.
“You texted both of us and said it was urgent. I thought you fell im the shower again.” You explained as you struggled to make eye contact because of how distracting his shiny abs were.
“Again? Peter, can’t you stick to walls? How did you fall in the shower?” Tony wondered.
“I slipped, okay? I’m only human. And a little bit spider.” Peter mumbled.
“Wait a second.” Tony held up a finger when he took in his surroundings.
“Sexy music.” Tony gasped and pointed to the speaker.
“Candles.” He gasped louder and pointed to the candles.
“Baby oil.” He gasped even louder and pointed to Peter. He then walked over to Peter’s dresser and let out the loudest gasp of all.
“Pack of extra small condoms?” He gasped and put his hand over his heart. He then looked at Peter with the rage of a thousand men. Peter looked at you, who looked like a mixture of surprise, embarrassment, and fondness.
“Um, it’s not what it looks like?” Peter said weakly. Tony threw the box of condoms at him and it stuck to Peters oiled chest.
“I knew it! You derelict. You ne’re-do-well. You scallawag. You were gonna try to sex my daughter, weren’t you?”
“Can that word be used in that way?” You wondered out loud.
“No. It’s not a verb. Your form was incorrect.” Peter told Tony, immediately regretting it.
“How’s this for form?” Tony asked and raised both his fists as if he was about to mollywhop Peter. You quickly stepped between them and held up a hand.
“Dad. Stop. You’re not gonna fight Peter. You’re obviously misreading things. There’s no way he brought me in here for that. Right, Peter?”
“Uhhh….” Peter trailed off and smiled weakly. Your jaw dropped for a second, but then you looked really pleased. Tony saw the look on your face and let out a loud, elongated groan.
“Goodbye. If you’ll excuse me, I have to go rinse my eyes out with drain cleaner.” Tony stared at you both in disgust as he walked out.
“Dad. You’re embarrassing me.” You whined.
“FRIDAY, add baby oil to the shopping list. Somebody used it all.” Tony called out as he left the room.
Once you were alone, you and Peter looked at each other and laughed in embarrassment.
“Did you really do all this for me?” You asked and rubbed his oiled up shoulder.
“I did. And it was incredibly stupid. I’m sorry.”
“Why did you do it then?”
“Because I wanted our first time to be special. You deserve special.” Peter sighed. You pouted and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.
“Aw, Peter.”
“I know. It was dumb.” He sighed.
“It wasn’t dumb. I think it was really sweet.” You assured him. “Just executed in a kind of terrifying way. The song is so loud that it’s rattling my bones and you look like uncooked chicken.”
“Yeah. This was Thors idea.” Peter laughed in embarrassment and looked down at his shiny body.
“Well it’s not the worst sight in the world.” You shrugged and ran your fingertips down his chest. Peter gulped and looked at you, feeling that electricity return.
“FRIDAY, stop playing the song.” You called out without ever taking your eyes off Peter. He got the hint and shot a web at the door to shut it before going to blow out the candles.
“Wait.” You held out your hand, stopping Peter.
“Leave the candles.” You told him.
“Okay. But why?”
“Well, it’s our first time, isn’t it?” You smiled coyly. “It should be special.”
Peter liked where your head was at but couldn’t go through with it without telling you the whole truth.
“They’re M&M scented candles that I stole from Morgans playroom.” He admitted. You stared at him for a long time before nodding your head.
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Stop talking before I change my mind, okay?”
“Okay.” He nodded excitedly and pulled you into a kiss. You kissed him back and felt the same electricity that was coursing through his veins. Peter laid you down on his bed without breaking the kiss and you felt the red silk sheets he had put on under your skin.
“These sheets are a nice touch.” You flirted in between kisses.
“Only the best for you, baby. I took them from your dad.”
With the mention of your father, you immediately pushed Peter off and felt your entire body cringe. He had once again successfully ruined the moment.
“That’s it. I’m done.” You held uo your hands in defeat and left his room.
“Wait!” Peter called after you. “I cleaned them! I swear!”
Tag List 🏷️
@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @serendipitous-amor @tom-hollands-wifey
@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101
@letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow
@unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave​ ​ @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild
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@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie
@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey
3K notes · View notes
stylesharrys · 1 year
Note
hii so ik ur not rlly answering requests bc ur still getting back into writing, but if u do could u could experienced!peter parker x virgin!reader him being rlly sweet and cute and stuff
A/N: Hiiiiii, this has been in my inbox for so long, but here you go, just a little blurb for all the Peter girlies x SMUT AHEAD! (this is more dirty than cute, I had the wrong playlist on LOL)
//
She asked for the lights off, didn't want him to see her just yet. But even in the dim lighting, Peter can tell her lips are plump and swollen.
Her hot breath fans across his mouth as she palms at her breasts through her bra, just as he instructed.
Such a good girl, he thinks.
"You're doing so well, petal."
Her hum vibrates against his tongue as he catches her lips in another searing kiss. Peter can feel Y/N's hips rolling up against his, and for a virgin, he reckons she's as eager as any experienced person.
"Tell me what to do, Pete." She whispers breathlessly, the rasp in her voice eliciting goosebumps to the surface of Peters skin.
He bites back a grunt, gnawing on his bottom lip to keep him from taking her there and then.
"Put your hand in your panties, sweetheart."
Peter doesn't miss the whimper that croaks past her lips. Can feel her trembling hand make its way to the hem of her soaking panties.
He quickly grabs her wrist, halting her movements just before her fingers can slip past the band.
"I want you to rub your clit-" he begins, replacing her hand with his as the tips of his fingers rub small circles on her nub, "-rub it exactly as I do."
A heavy sigh breaks the silence, her mind clouded by the pleasure of his touch. Another sigh is quick to follow when he removes his hand and pulls away completely from her.
"Now," he lays back, "you're going to touch yourself just like that."
Slowly, he tugs his hard cock free from his boxers, wrapping a hand around his shaft and letting out a hiss.
"And you're gonna let me watch."
2K notes · View notes
shellshocklove · 1 year
Text
conversation | peter parker
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pairing: college!peter parker x college!female!reader
summary: peter parker is in the friendzone. and it sucks. especially when the girl he’s in love with is dating his best friend. smack dab in the middle of a bad situation peter struggles to keep his feelings at bay when the girl of his dreams comes to him for advice about her failing relationship.
warnings: i guess post!nwh, swearing, cheating, peter pining for reader, everyone being a bad guy, smut 18+ (minors dni!!!), unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4.1k
a/n: um my first peter fic! it’s based on the song conversation by joni mitchell. listen to it, or don’t, i’m not your mother. i said i was going to stop posting writing, but i have “i must create or i’ll go crazy” disease so... (i’m still not a writer)
main masterlist / ao3
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She comes to him for conversation, for comfort, for consultation. But Peter wished she came to him for something else.
He remembers the first time he saw you. How he’d thought his heart had stopped for a second, forgetting how to do its most basic function. How could someone look so effortlessly beautiful? How could a voice sound so sweet while asking such a mundane question?
“Is this seat taken?”.
“N-n-no!” he’d manage to stutter out, his cheeks flushed red and completely taken aback by the fact that you were talking to him. You’d given him a playful smile before seating yourself next to him.
Did he believe in love at first sight? Yes, after seeing you for the first time, Peter started to think he did.
Meeting you in a chemistry class, Peter thought, must be the universe’s take on a bad joke, because… you two had chemistry. Everything just felt so easy when he hung out with you. His smile always wide, cheeks hurting. Conversation flowing freely, or engulfed in a silence, that was always comfortable. The only thing though, even though you two had chemistry, you weren’t any good at it. Actually, you were barely passing.
And that’s how your time began. Sharing sodas after class, in a rundown diner, over chemistry homework. You’d seen how Peter had gotten straight A’s on all his tests, and one day you’d carefully asked if he would be so kind as to help you. Those were the actual words you’d used. If Peter would be so kind. As if he wouldn’t have done anything you’d ask without a second thought. Okay, maybe not anything. He doesn’t think he’d murder someone if you asked… or maybe… if you were in danger and it was the only way–
“Peter!” you laughed, waving your hand in front of his face, “Are you even listening to me?”.
“Huh!?” he hummed, a familiar warmth spreading through his cheeks as your laugh rang through his ears.
“You zoned out a little,” you said, scrunching up your nose. Oh god he loved when you did that– you looked so cute.
“Oh! S-sorry” he stuttered out, still embarrassed that you’d caught him daydreaming, “What were you saying?”.
“Ehm… just forget it” you looked away, waving your hand, “It was just something Harry did again”.
His name coming from your mouth felt like a bucket of ice-cold water over Peter’s head. Harry Osborn, your boyfriend, and Peter’s roommate.
As much as Peter loved Harry, he didn’t treat you well. This was usually how your conversations during your study dates would go, once it was clear that after a few hours of studying, you were done with chemistry for the day.
You’d usually bring up small things that Harry had done that hurt you or annoyed you. And Peter would be tasked with giving you advice, or comfort, or consolation. You always apologized after, for bringing Harry up in conversation, but Peter always brushed it off telling you it was fine. But it wasn’t. It always reminded him about his own failures. How if he hadn’t been such a pussy at Betty’s party, all those months ago, and told you how he felt, this wouldn’t just be a study date, but a real date. The problem was just that Harry had beat him to it that night. In Harry’s defense, he didn’t know about Peter’s feelings about you. No one did.
You’d disappeared at some point in the night, and Peter figured you’d gone home. Turns out you did go home, but not to your own apartment, but to Peter’s and Harry’s instead. A fact Peter didn’t know until the morning after when he’d bumped into you in the kitchen, his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight of you in nothing but Harry’s shirt.
Peter’s dreams weren’t completely crushed at that moment. He still harbored hope for you. Harry was quite the whore (Harry’s own words by the way, not Peter’s), and this wasn’t the first time Peter ran into one of his hook-ups in the kitchen after a night out. In Peter’s mind this was only a one-night stand. But he couldn’t have been more wrong. Not soon after, you started showing up at the penthouse, not to hang out with Peter, but with Harry instead.
Peter tried his best to not be disappointed when you came over. But the tiny spark of hope he had about one day calling you his, soon fizzled out and died. Every time he saw you and Harry kissing, holding hands; he knew nothing would ever happen between the two of you.
Trying to forget you, he started busying himself with classes and patrol, seeing you less and less. He’d run into you sometimes when you were visiting Harry. Only a short “Hello” leaving Peter’s lips as he’d retire to his room before Harry could see how much Peter wanted you.
Back in his room, Peter would convince himself that you and Harry being together was the best thing for you. If you were with Peter, he’d only end up hurting you. You deserve the very best, and Peter knew he would never be good enough. He was a fucking mess most of the time. He was always late to things, never on time, he couldn’t afford to treat you to nice things like Harry did, and his double life could make you a target, which was the last thing he wanted.
Peter kept his distance the best he could, but as time went on it got harder and harder to convince himself that Harry treated you the way Peter thought you deserved. Peter knew Harry wasn’t being honest with you, and it killed him to keep his mouth shut. The bubbling anger simmering under the surface every time he’d see a girl who wasn’t you, slip out of Harry’s bedroom. Then like a curse, a few moments later, his enhanced hearing enabled him to eavesdrop on yours’ and Harry’s conversations on the phone. Harry would always apologize for being too busy to come over and hang out. And with the softest voice, you’d let Harry off the hook every time. Leaving the penthouse, to go on patrol after nights like that, Peter admitted, his punches hit a little harder.
Your relationship tasted especially bitter in Peter’s mouth whenever Harry would throw parties at the penthouse. A hand over your shoulder or around your waist, never leaving your side, showing you off like you were a prized possession and not a human being. Was this the final straw for Peter? Seeing yet another way Harry didn’t treat you as well as he should; that had made him not want to make up an excuse, like he normally would, when you’d ask him if he wanted to study at the diner.
Peter had kept his distance from you for the last six months. Tried to stay in his lane. To turn the other eye. To fold his feelings for you in on itself like a piece of paper so many times he hoped they’d disappear. But one look at you again, sitting across from him at your regular booth at the diner, and his origami-ed feelings had sprung up again like a blooming flower in spring.
“I just really wanted to see him, you know? I’ve been so stressed about this chemistry exam– that I know I’m gonna fail by the way, and work’s been kicking my ass– and I just wanted to hang out with my boyfriend… but he canceled on me three times this week”.
Or maybe the final straw, for Peter, was the way your whole body deflated in front of him. Peter could feel his heart break in real time watching you turn your head away, hiding the wobble of your bottom lip. And the worst part of it all was that Peter knew why Harry had canceled on you. He’d been over at someone else’s place. But Peter knew he couldn’t tell you that.
Carefully he reached out his hand, brushing it over the back of yours as you rested it on the table. “I’m sure Harry’s just been busy! I know he’s got his exams in a few weeks, and he hasn’t been home as much lately” Peter said, trying his best to make you feel better.
You watched your hands for a moment, how Peter brushed his hand over yours trying to sooth you the best he could. Then you turned your hand, wrapping it around his in a gentle hold. The soft touch of your warm hand, making Peter stop breathing for a second.
“Yeah,” you nodded, “you’re probably right, Peter”. You tried your best to smile, but Peter could see your sorrow written all over your face, breaking Peter’s heart even more.
“You’re a good friend Peter!” you started, “I’m so sorry for always talking about Harry, but it’s just that you know him so well, so it’s easier to talk about him with you– and you always manage to say the right thing to make me feel better” you looked down at your intertwining hands.
“It’s almost scary how easily you can make me feel better Peter– it’s like you have superpowers or something” you said, a chuckle escaping your lips.
“Oh, I didn’t tell you about my superpowers?” Peter quipped, trying his best to cheer you up even more. A smile spread across your face as you shook your head.
“My powers are actually being very good at chemistry– AND knowing how to make my friend who’s failing her chemistry class feel better”.
A giggle left your lips at Peter’s joke as you let out a sarcastic “haha, very funny”, playing along.
If only you knew though. How he wished that this mess could be fixed with his actual superpowers. How he wished he could just put on the suit and save you from Harry. How he wished he could free you.
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Landing safely on the rooftop of Harry’s penthouse, Peter looked around for his backpack he’d hid with his clothes. He’d managed to hide his double life from Harry so far, and he planned on it staying that way, which meant changing in and out of his suit crouched behind a rooftop vent, every day.
He was back earlier than usual, cutting tonight’s patrol short as it had turned out to be a quiet night. He’d stopped a man stealing a lady’s purse, and after he’d helped a man, who he was 90% sure had dementia, find his way back to his apartment. After that he’d just swung around the city for a few hours. At sunset he’d found a good spot at the top of this new skyscraper they were building downtown. His feet dangled off the scaffolding as he watched the sky turn every shade of pink and orange, before the sun dipped below the horizon.
Back home, on the roof, Peter felt the soft touch of the spring night against his naked skin. He quickly changed out of his suit before stuffing it back into his backpack, swinging it over his shoulder before he headed towards the rooftop door. With a light bounce in his step, Peter made his way down the stairs, his head filled with thoughts about all the studying he needed to do before his exam next week. Slipping through the front door he’s so distracted by his own thoughts he almost doesn’t hear it. The sounds of muffled moans accompanied by Harry’s bedpost hitting the wall.
But he does hear it, and images of how sad you’d looked earlier at the diner start flickering through Peter’s head. Before any rational thoughts can stop him, he’s fished his phone from the back pocket of his jeans. He’s had enough. His fingers work on their own accord, pulling up your contact.
Peter hi, um are you at the penthouse right now?
He knew you weren’t, but he figured this was the best way to bring it up. Taking long strides across the floor, he made his way towards his bedroom door. Why did he suddenly feel like he needed to hide?
He passed through his bedroom door while he slipped his backpack off his shoulder. Not even ten seconds later his phone buzzed in his hands with your reply. He sat down quickly on his bed, one leg bouncing in an anxious rhythm, as he read your reply.
You no? i’m at home why?
Peter i think you should come over there’s a girl with harry in his room
Did this make him a bad person Peter asked himself as he watched the three dotted bubble appear and then disappear. Was this just him acting out of his own selfishness? Letting the devil on his shoulder whisper in his ear and guide his hand? Or did it make him a hero? Saving you from a toxic relationship?
You i’m coming over.
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The sound of your footsteps echoed down the streets, mixing with Peter’s calls of your name as he practically jogged behind you trying to catch up to you.
“Peter” you sighed, “just please go back home”.
“No!” he finally caught up to you, grabbing a hold of your wrist, pulling it a little, making you slow down.
“I don’t think you should be alone right now”.
Your face was blank, the only sign of any emotion coming from your restless eyes dancing across his face. He couldn’t decipher what you were thinking. You were angry of course. You were furious only minutes ago when you stormed out the door with both Harry and Peter at your heel.
Harry had spoken his sorry sentences. Telling you it wasn’t what it looked like. Begging for your forgiveness. But he was only kidding himself trying to convince you it wasn’t what it looked like, that he hadn’t cheated on you, when you’d literally caught him with his dick inside another woman.
Harry stayed behind in the lobby, probably thinking it wasn’t worth it to go after you into the spring night, in only his robe. Just as Peter were about to rush after you Harry spoke up,
“If you go after her you’re dead to me!”.
The venomous bite to Harry’s tone stopped Peter dead in his tracks.
“I know you fucking told her” Harry accused, “If you go after her I’m kicking you out– I NEVER want to see you again”.
But standing here, out on the streets of New York at midnight, holding your hand Peter knew he’d made the right decision.
“Ok” you said it so softly Peter didn't think he’d even hear it if his hearing wasn’t enhanced.
“Ok” he repeated.
You pulled your hand away, a knife twisting in Peter’s heart, and started walking. You didn’t say a single word on the way back to your apartment. Peter imagined you were hurt, but you weren’t crying, and Peter didn’t know if that scared him or comforted him.
Safely back inside your apartment you didn’t even acknowledge his presence as you threw your jacket off by the door. Then you walked down the hallway, taking a right at the end, to where he assumed your living room must be. Peter had never actually been in your apartment before.
He followed you down the hallway, after neatly hanging both his and your jacket on your coat rack. He found you on the floor by your couch, your back resting against the front, holding your knees to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as soft sobs escaped you.
“I’m sorry you had to find out like that” Peter apologized, sitting down next to you on your carpet. A feeling like his only purpose in life was to comfort you, overcame him. So, he wrapped a hand around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. You leaned in closer to his body, your hands shifting from hugging yourself, to hugging Peter tightly.
“No, this was exactly how I needed to find out” you sobbed, “I needed to see it with my own eyes, or I wouldn’t have believed it”.
Peter let you cry until there weren't any tears left to cry, cooing you and whispering all the most reassuring words he could muster up past midnight.
“I don’t know why it hurts so bad… I think deep down I always knew he wasn’t being honest with me– he always kept me guessing” you said. No, Peter thought, he kept you down.
Before Peter could say anything, you lifted your head from his chest, a big wet spot on his t-shirt left in your wake. You looked him right in the eye, and Peter could feel a budding warmth of red covering the apples of his cheeks.
“Please Peter” you pleaded, moving your face closer, the closest it’s ever been to his. Your right hand traveled to cup his hot cheeks, pulling him even closer to your face. So close he felt your breath tickle his skin while you spoke,
“You always make me feel better– it’s your superpower, remember? Please make me feel better”.
Closing his eyes, Peter knew he couldn’t deny you, his heart screamed out for you. This was everything he wanted, was it not? With a shuddering breath and a heart beating out of his chest, he closed the space between you, brushing his lips over yours.
Your other hand cupped his other cheek, pulling him even closer to your body, letting out a small whimper as you kissed him back. Peter felt like his head was spinning. He didn’t know where he ended, and you began.
Then it all became a bit of a blur. His hands found your waist as you climbed onto his lap, brushing your tongue over his bottom lip, deepening the kiss. Your hand left his cheek to toy with his hair, and Peter just about moaned into your mouth. He needed more of you, and with the way you were grinding down on his growing bulge, he knew you did too.
Warmth flooded his body wherever you touched him, and he didn’t think he could ever get enough of you. When your hand left his hair, he just about sighed with disappointment, until he realized how you toyed with the hem of his t-shirt. Raising his hands, he helped you pull it off him. Absentmindedly, you threw it away, before your eyes fell to his chest, quickly scanning over his muscles before they traveled up to his face, where they looked into his soul. Half a second later you pulled him in for another heated kiss.
His hands fell to your ass, helping you grind down on him. Fuck, he was properly hard now, his cock straining against his jeans. With every brush of your core against his cock you whimpered into his mouth, making Peter almost feel lightheaded. You were so pretty. Your lips tasted like raspberries, and under his hands your skin was softer than velvet.
“Take off your pants please” you pleaded against his skin as you started pressing soft kisses down along his jaw and neck.
His hands raced to unbutton his jeans. You pulled away from his neck, staggering to your feet on wobbly legs, making a whine leaving Peter’s lips. Over him you started pulling on your pants, dragging them down your legs along with your panties in one go. Mesmerized by your silhouette, Peter almost forgot what he was doing. You quickly sat down beside him, fingers coming up to hook around the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Then you started pulling them down to his mid-thigh along with his boxers. Peter almost forgot to breathe as you freed his aching cock.
When you climbed onto his lap, Peter’s brain started working again. His hands fell to your ass, steadying you as you got comfortable on his lap.
“D-did you want me to…” Peter trailed off, not knowing how to say what he wanted to say. Instead, he showed you. His right hand rubber over your ass and hip before his fingers brushed over your clit. You mewled at the contact, your eyes closing before you shook your head.
“No, no I just want you– I need you, Peter”.
Fuck, Peter thought. He’d dreamt of hearing you tell him you wanted him, for months. And now it wasn’t a dream anymore.
“O-okay” he stuttered, reaching a hand between your bodies, grabbing at his shaft in a rough hold. With his other hand he helped guide your hips to hover over his tip, sliding it back and forth over your slit, and lining it up with your opening. He could feel how wet and desperate you were, coating his cock in your arousal.
With a hand resting on his shoulder, you slowly sat down on his cock. First slipping the tip in, before your walls swallowed the rest of him, taking him fully inside. A choked moan fell from Peter’s lips as he savored the feeling of your velvet pulsing walls around him. Rocking your hips back and forth, your puffy clit rubbing up against his pelvis, as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, gaping around words you couldn’t get out.
“Shit” you panted, “You’re so deep”.
“Yeah” Peter breathed out, head falling back against the couch, “You feel me in your tummy?”.
“Fuck,” you lifted your hips, slowly starting to move, “y-yes, I d-do”.
Looking up at you, as you moved over him, Peter thought you looked like an angel. The way your ceiling light lit up the back of your head, Peter was sure you were wearing a halo.
Your rhythm increased and soon you were bouncing in his lap. Your breathy moans falling from your lips, the wet noises coming from where you were connected, and the way you were starting to clench around him, were making the tension in Peter’s stomach grow. Knitting his eyebrows together, Peter didn’t know how much longer he was going to last.
Scared he’d finish before you, his fingers found your clit, pressing down in tight circles. Under the touch of his fingers you almost jumped, while a shuddering breath left your lips. Then Peter felt himself start to get desperate, meeting your bounces with a thrusting of his hip, pushing his throbbing cock even further inside you.
Every brush of his fingers over your clit, coincided with a thrust of his hips, and soon he felt your wall flutter around him. He could feel how your wetness ran down his shaft and down his balls, and he knew you were as close to the edge of ecstasy as he was. His fingers never let up on your clit, and soon you clenched around him so hard he couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Fuck,” Peter spat, “I’m gonna cum”.
“I–Inside” you moaned, “You can come inside– it’s okay”.
Your words pushed him over the edge, making him come hard inside you with a grunt. He didn’t slow down his fingers on your clit, and the feeling of him filling you up and the brush of his fingers, must’ve pushed you over the edge. Half a second later your hips stilled as Peter felt the frantic pulses of your orgasm milking his cock.
The feeling of you riding out your orgasm on his sensitive cock, clenching down on him as your body shook with aftershocks, it was almost too much, too intense for Peter. His breath came out in hard pants, and his body felt hot to the touch.
Peter didn’t know how much time passed as you both came down from your highs. It could have been three seconds or three hours. All Peter knew was that with you, he lost all sense of time. But this moment of bliss must come to an end. Everything is temporary, and someone must be the first to pull away.
On wobbling legs, you slid off his lap, sitting down next to him on the floor. You leaned back, grabbing your panties off the couch. Peter averted his eyes. The act was somehow too intimate to watch, even after what you two had just done. Instead, he busied himself with pulling his pants back over his ass, and tucking himself away, as a silence fell over the both of you. It felt heavy, loaded with questions he didn’t know if he wanted an answer too. After a few minutes a whisper left Peter’s lips, breaking the silence,
“I think I might be homeless”.
You didn’t answer right away, but Peter could hear your breathing change multiple times, like you were going to say something,
“I’m sorry”.
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tagging some mutuals (this is so embarrassing): @hollandweather​, @luciwritesstuff​, @userholland​, @t-lostinworlds​, @silkscream​, @sparklingsin​, @logangarfield​, @justapurrcat​, @tomdutch​, @devotion​, @lnmp89​, @mayal0pez​, @melodicheauxxo-writes​,
...
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2K notes · View notes
shawnxstyles · 1 year
Text
naked
DATE: JANUARY 8, 2023
summary: nathan drake was a tease to say the least. you couldn’t focus on work or chores with his constant sex appeal surrounding you. but a completely naked and nonchalant nathan drake, was an even bigger one.
request: please read the request as an additional summary!
words: 3.2k
warnings: SMUT (implied consent, praise kink, playful spanking and exhibitionism if you squint, dirty talk [slight degradation kink], kind of breeding kink, and unprotected sex) language, and very fluffy at the end :)
note: first nathan fic… this was supposed to be just smut, but i made the ending really fluffy and cute 😌 (the amount of times i’ve watched this gif is unholy)
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Nathan Drake would be the death of you.
He was charming, with a hint of cockiness to always keep you on your toes. His smile lit up every room he waltzed in, which you hated to admit made your heart flutter.
During the many dangerous attempts at trying to find the forbidden gold, you two really connected. For the first few missions, you were always on high-alert as your trust balanced on a fine line. He could’ve ditched you at any minute and left you stranded to fend for yourself. But Nathan wasn’t like that. He stuck by your side and saved your life more than you could ever thank him enough for.
Yes, he’s lied and undergone deception, but it was all for the greater good. You were his greater good. If he never finds the gold, he knows that he hit the jackpot with you. Even if you didn’t know it.
Taking that next step in your relationship was the best idea you both have ever had. You loved Nathan for all that he was— except for one thing; a teaser. Nathan Drake was the biggest teaser ever.
A shirtless Nate strides around arrogantly nearly every day, making you swallow thickly when you gaze at his body a little too long. Sometimes, he’ll flex on purpose while you’re trying to focus on work. Or he’ll be handsy while doing day-to-day chores.
Nate loved that he had such a grasp on you. Today, he used that to his advantage.
He steps out of the steaming shower, barely dried with a towel around his waist. He doesn’t try to secure it as he walks out into the lounge area where you’re reading on the couch with a mug in hand.
You take a glimpse at him when he comes into frame and nearly choke on your coffee. You’ve seen his body countless times, but the sight will never fail to amaze you. Water droplets drip over his chiseled abs, sinking down his V-line and absorbing in his towel. He licks his bottom lip in amusement at your stare, waltzing past you and into the kitchen.
You roll your eyes and resume back to your reading that was nowhere near as interesting as Nathan’s body. You bet you could study an entire course about his structure, and you would excel with an A+. But that would be cheating because you knew his body like the back of your hand.
You knew that he loved to have his back scratched, nails digging into his skin until crescent moon marks appeared. He loved when you moaned his name, specifically screaming it. And Nathan loved when you fawned over his body. His body full of muscle was a temple you worshiped when he had his way with you. You loved praising him because everything you said was true.
Your mind flashes back to last night and all the previous nights where he fucked you into oblivion. You wished it was always that easy to have sex with him, but he always had to make it difficult to get what you wanted.
Typical Nathan.
Once your coffee jolts your system awake, you decide to do a bit of cleaning to get your mind out of the gutter. You call Nathan over to help you with the dishwasher, hoping he’s clothed. When he comes back into the kitchen, however, he’s still not dressed, even though it’s been hours since he took a shower. Actually, he’s less dressed than earlier. He’s wearing nothing but his birthday suit when he smiles at you softly, charm and fake-innocence floating around him.
Bastard.
You try not to avert your eyes down to his prominent member, knowing it will inflate his already massive ego if you stutter your words.
“I need you to help me with the dishes,” You state curtly, jaw slacking while you glare directly into his brown orbs. They’re filled with mischief and lust, positive he’s at least semi-hard. “You wash.”
“Of course, sweetheart,” Nathan’s cheeks crinkle into a toothy smile, walking over to you. His hands cradle your face before he gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. Your clit throbs in time with the rapid beating of your heart. Arousal drips subtly from your cunt and into your panties.
He knows how much you love forehead kisses. God damn him.
He gets started on the dishes, handing you the cleaned items quickly. You bend down to slot them into their places in the washer, falling behind his quick pace. Once he finishes, he smirks at your position; bent over and vulnerable in a thin pair of cotton shorts. His cock pulsates at the view of your curves as you focus on the task in front of you. It was almost too easy.
“Need help, baby?” Nathan’s hands slide over your waist as his body hovers behind you. You inhale sharply at the feeling of him so close to you, causing you to freeze in place. He drags his palms to your hips, caressing the clothed skin teasingly. His thumbs are rubbing the top of your ass, wishing he would spread you open already. You bit your tongue before deciding that you can play this game too.
“I’m good,” After slotting a plate, you raise up and grab another. You purposely lean back into him, causing your ass to grind against his bare cock. Nathan is thick and solid, at his full size now that he’s fully hard. You try not to be affected by the tiny touch. He quietly hisses under his breath and you smirk as you move yourself in triumph. His fingers never leave your hips.
“You’re paying for that,” He squeezes your supple curves warningly and then lightly slaps your ass before waltzing away. You gasp, nearly dropping the plate. The dishes are disorganized and dislocated when you finish, too distracted by the Greek God strolling around the house.
Nathan didn’t stop there. He continued to help with house chores while being completely naked. He got handsy and he teased you to the brim. If you tried to reach for something up high, he would lift you by your hips and then slide his hands up your body when bringing you down. His minimal actions made you weak, but left you wanting more every time he walked away.
You took a deep breath before joining your zoom meeting. Even when Nathan was intervening in your thoughts, you still had work to do.
Nathan glances at your crinkled eyebrows as you concentrate on your computer screen. A monotone voice gives instructions while you nod along to his words. Nate loved watching you work. Your hard working ethic, determination, and intelligence were some of his favorite qualities about you. The head of his cock ticks when you bite your lip subconsciously in solid focus.
It was also one of his turn-ons.
He strides over to you as you type swiftly on your keyboard. When you notice him, you roll your eyes at his nude appearance, continuing to type away. He sits beside you, glaring.
“What do you want, Nate?” You ask through clenched teeth. You can’t help but peer down at his struggling member, rosy head with dabbles of pre-cum leaking from it. If he wasn’t such a tease, you would get on your knees and suck him dry.
“Nothing. You know, I love watching you work. You look so sophisticated and smart,” Nathan compliments as his hand wanders toward your thighs. He massages them, your breath getting caught in your throat. Nate knew you loved being complimented, but especially when it had to do with your intelligence. He is ticking every box today.
He slides his fingers up until they’re touching your aching, clothed cunt. Your clit pulses sporadically, legs tensing when his fingers brush over it.
“What’s the matter, baby?” Nathan taunts with a devilish smile. Nate’s thumb pets your clit through your shorts, making you moan softly. You disregard your zoom meeting, your camera and microphone already off. Spreading your legs wider, he doesn’t speed up or stop, continuing to torture you by giving you little to nothing. “Are you all wet?”
You answer in a shuddery moan, focusing on the small touch. You’ve been so horny all day, even this is getting you off. Fists balling on the keyboard, his fingers brush the folds of your cunt, still covered by your shorts and panties. You gasp when he presses two fingers where your hole is as you clench around nothing but your own walls. Sliding your shorts down, he reveals your soaked panties, tsking at the sight. He yanks them down and off your legs. Being the dirty man he is, Nathan spits into his hand and wraps the fabric around his cock, stroking deliberately. Your own hand shoots straight to your clit and fondles it, desperate to be touched by him.
“Y/N, are you there? The meeting is over,” Your boss informs with a clipped tone. Your eyes drift to the forgotten screen, widening when you remember you’re still in the call.
“Don’t stop,” Nate demands through gritted teeth, powerful eyes piercing yours. Trembling, you continue to rub your clit as you unmute yourself.
“Y-yeah. Sorry, goodbye now,” You sputter out before slamming the laptop closed. Nathan groans while stroking his cock with your wet panties, making you clench around nothing.
“Rubbing yourself while working. Naughty girl,” Nathan tsks, dropping the underwear and lifting you up with a smirk. You both stand face to face with each other, aroused and desperate, yet neither will beg for it.
Caressing your face with his rough hands, Nathan pulls you in for a kiss. His tongue roams your mouth and his lips ignite a fire through your body. Your hands lock on his hips and squeeze his ass teasingly. He growls in your mouth, almost biting your tongue. Your fingers crawl up the nape of his neck, tugging at the short hair. Grunting, he slaps your ass playfully in return before breaking the kiss. You lift up your tank top and toss it across the room, abandoning it. He spins you around and bends you over so your rear is right against his front. You catch yourself with your hands planted on the ground, feet steadying you.
His bare length slots between your cheeks, soaked in your arousal. Nathan rocks back and forth without sliding in, so you push back against him in a silent plea.
“Fucking drenched,” He hisses, grabbing a handful of your soft skin until he’s holding your hips sturdy. “Didn’t know you were such a whore.”
“You’ve been—fuck— teasing me all day,” You moan as he ruts his cock against your fluttering folds. “Walking around naked? Who does that?”
“That’s not a nice way to talk to the person who’s determining if you’re coming tonight,” Nathan slaps your ass a little harsher this time, making you yelp and grind against him harder.
“Nate, please just fuck me already,” You plead as the blood begins to rush to your head.
“That’s more like it,” He spreads your cheeks and slams into you. Your arms almost collapse under the pressure, too weak for his brutal thrusts. His balls slap against your ass while he pounds mercilessly deeper and harder.
Rough, calloused hands grip your hips, forcing you to take all of his length. You can feel the ridges of his cock in your cunt as he hits new angles you’ve never experienced before. Wails and moans echo throughout the house as your limbs tremble with pleasure. Your vision becomes starry and your head starts to pound from being practically upside down. When the weakness of your arms causes you to crumble beneath your weight, Nathan sweeps you up before you could fall.
The blood rush melts away as his face comes into clear view. With ease, he rests you on the dining table near your forgotten laptop. His muscles bulk and flex with intensity as sweat begins to form on his skin. His chiseled core contracts with each impel, making you wetter and wetter. He thrusts back into you without warning, causing you to shriek.
“God, you’re so hot,” You whimper while squeezing his thick biceps, nails stabbing his flesh. Gutturally moaning, he seizes more brutal ruts into you, making your eyes roll back. He leans down to mark up your neck in tattooed kisses.
“What about me is so hot?” Nathan huffs mockingly into your neck, his warm and gravelly voice melting you entirely. He loved being praised, and seeing him so affected only spurred you to do it more.
“Y-your muscles. You’re so strong,” Pathetic moans pepper out of your throat, dry and squeaky from screaming. He growls, plunging savagely rough into your cunt at the compliment. Arousal surrounds his cock when you clench snuggly around him, milking him deliciously.
“Such a dirty girl. My dirty girl,” Nathan grunts while your breathing heaves. “Come now.”
Your pussy tightens around his length, unable to control the rapid bliss that hits you hard the second he permits. Your jaw drops in ecstasy, eyes screwed shut in undeniable pleasure.
“Look at me. Wanna see your gorgeous face.”
You attempt to open your eyes as your orgasm releases from you in silent cries. Core contracting and nails scratching, your back aches into his torso while he nibbles into your neck. White liquid pours out, legs shaking as you fall from the high. His pace slows as you feel the twitch of his cock inside your walls.
“Come in me. Please, baby,” Your croaked voice pleads him to the finish line.
“Mm, need me to fill you up? Need to be nice and full of my cum?” His hands spread your legs wider, rutting deep and slow into you when you moan in affirmation. His shaft spasms and his balls tense before he releases ropes of cum into your cunt. You whimper at the sensation, closing your eyes in euphoria. He pulls in and out, pushing all of his sperm far inside to make sure it’s all tucked in.
Nathan stares up at you as your hands slide up to his neck. A weary, blissed-out smile reflects on both of your faces as you lean in for a kiss. Your teeth clink from uncontrollable, cheeky smiles and your fingers intertwine in his chestnut hair.
“You were a bit of a tease today,” You bit your lip, pulling away, but keeping him close enough where you can feel his warm, heaving breath on your skin.
“You love it though,” An inviting smirk danced on his lips while a tinge of pink decorated his cheeks. He lowers his forehead to rest on yours, noses brushing cutely.
“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake,” You hold back a goofy grin. “Sadly, I do.”
“Well, I hope you don’t say it like that at the wedding,” He chuckles and you gasp, swatting his chest playfully. You don’t want to act so surprised, but your eyes are shot wide.
“Do not mention wedding stuff! It’s only been… seven months!” With a pointed finger to his buff chest, he laughs it off with his hands raised defensively.
“But you’ve known me for ten!”
You were one hundred percent serious when you said you loved Nathan, you really did. But you never thought about a commitment until him. Not a serious one, that is. Although you two had a rocky start, he changed how you viewed the concept of relationships entirely. Your guard was constantly up, a barrier you created over the course of your life after being disappointed again and again. Nathan and you traveled various distances and battled challenges most people in their life will never face.
But he showed you that it was okay to live and to love because the risk of the fall doesn’t always end badly.
It wasn’t even directed toward you, just typical Nate inspiration, but that was a key quote you will forever remember. It was from your second (failed) mission together, when you were ‘stranded’ and waiting for Sully to ‘rescue’ you both (he just needed to bring the boat around). He opened up to you, like it was second nature to him. You envied how easy it seemed to pour your heart into a stranger who could possibly abandon you. But Nathan always had faith. And maybe his faith in you was right.
Maybe Nathan was the one who you’d say I do to.
You didn’t doubt him. You doubted you.
“I wouldn’t say it like that,” You whisper against his swollen lips, face blank with a million thoughts soaring behind your eyes.
“What?” His forehead crinkles in mild confusion while his hand caresses your jaw delicately. Curiosity and a hint of hope float within his irises, but it could just be your imagination.
“I would… be happy to say I do. I wouldn’t hesitate to say it. Well, I might, but only because I’d be nervous,” You heart thudded against your ribs and your palms began to feel clammy. You laugh awkwardly, anxiety infecting your body. “Why am I nervous now? I’m just imagining it— and now I’m rambling about nothing—”
“It’s not nothing, Y/N. I’ve imagined it, too,” Nate reassures with soft touches on your cheek, smoothing your hair over. “I pictured you in a long, white dress with an open back. Long, laced sleeves because I know you’d find that classic and elegant. You wouldn’t have a long train because you wouldn’t want to trip over it. I imagined that day to feel greater than any gold.”
Water glossed over your eyes as you fought back tears until you were swallowing thickly. You hadn’t expected him to have it all planned out. But again, Nathan always plans ahead. He’s always two steps in front of the average person. Another thing you loved about him.
You envisioned his description, finding only near-perfection in the way he thinks.
“Are you joking? Because I will find some creative ways to kill you—”
“I’ve never been more serious. Y/N, I knew from the first day we met that we had something. Whether we were partners, best friends, or dating, we were meant to be together. Don’t you think?” Both of his thumbs rub gentle circles across your supple cheeks, warm from the immense love circulated around you.
“I didn’t at first. Not like you did,” You smiled, remembering the awkward first encounter when Sully introduced you both. You were young and mischievous, and Nathan was also young, but also very trusting, which challenged your judgment. You didn’t even know of his existence a year ago, but ten months later and you feel like you’ve known him a lifetime. That’s got to count for something, right? “but now I understand that you’re right. We were destined to meet— Did you hear what I just said? Your sappy shit is influencing me!”
His beautiful, hearty laughter breaks the tension and pulls at your heartstrings when his skin crinkles to adjust to his expression.
“But you love me and my sappy shit, right?” He pecks your forehead, making you melt into a puddle right in the palm of his hand.
“Sadly, I do, Nathan Drake. Sadly, I do.”
hot??? cute??? hopefully :D
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berrieluv · 1 year
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could u write a fic where peter and reader r having sex and he s rly rough but at some point he hurts her bc of his powers he got after the spider bite? and then he just takes care of her and its cute n soft <3333
Peter Parker x fem!Reader
cw. mentions of sex.
It didn't start as it usually did. Peter seemed eager, in a way he always is, but he's usually soft, gentle, your skin could burn for the way his body craved you.
Now it was burning because of his not so gentle touch. His fingers were now marked on your hips and his movements were faster, rougher.
You were enjoying yourself at the beginning, you really were. You liked this animalistic side of Peter, you liked the way he entered your through your room door, he tossed his backpack to the floor and got rid of his jacket, his glasses ended on your desk and now you were here.
Reaching what you thought was your third orgasm of the night? You couldn't keep track of it, not when your body was shaking and your pussy aching. Peter was usually good reading you, he knew when you wanted something and when you don't.
"Peter?"
You tried calling him, you wanted to tell you that the tears weren't from the pleasure, you wanted him to understand that the way that he called you a 'whore' made you so sad. You definitely weren't in the mood for any of this.
"Peter..."
You stay quiet for a few minutes until you felt him pulling out, you felt a weird relief, it was when he broke back that you felt you had enough.
You flinched at his touch, you pushed him away with your hands and pushed him further with your legs, he looked at you confused and he started to feel the guilt eating him alive when he saw your face.
"Baby..." You look at him, waiting for him to talk. You weren't mad at him, he may misread you but it wasn't like he purposely ignored your wishes. "Baby, what's wrong?"
You wanted to talk, to tell him what was wrong, that it was too much, he was too rough, he went too far.
"When did you get so strong?"
Of course the last thing you wanted was to make him feel bad, so you tried a subtly way. Peter froze, because he knew why he was rough, everything seemed to be too much, being Spider-Man, school, his only safe place in a whole city was you and he just wanted to forget.
He didn't address the question, instead he answered with another one;
"Did I hurt you?"
You nod slowly and watch as his face decomposes. He looks so sad and you feel so guilty, he just wanted to have a good time with you, with his girlfriend, and you were ruining everything.
"I'm sorry" you say first and he frowns.
"Sorry? Baby, no, I– I'm sorry, I'm the one who's sorry, I hurt you and I– God, I don't think I could ever forgive myself... I– " He opened his arms and you smiled lightly, finding your way to his chest "I'm usually so good at knowing when you want thing"
"It was one time"
"Never again, baby" He kisses your head "I'll be double checking on anything, and I swear... anything"
"S'alright, Pete"
"Kissie?"
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Text
The Unknown
Summary: Peter and reader make out for the first time ;)
Requests are open : )
You and Peter haven't done anything more than kiss but it isn't because you guys don't want to go further its simply hard to find a time to be alone. Peter is always busy with being Spider-man which you don't mind at all but it gets frustrating when all you want to do is make out with him until you get lightheaded. Thats all you think about in class and you were determined that today was the day. 
When you and Pater arrived to his apartment you find out that May isn't home. "What do you wanna do?"Peter ask while opening his bedroom door "umm I don't know maybe watch a movie?" u say while sitting down on his bed and smiling widely. You don't realise that you've been staring at Peter the whole time that the movie has been playing until he laughs and ask "what?" while giving you the dorkiest smile ever you don't answer instead you lean in and kiss him. 
Peter holds your face gently with one hand, the other on your waist you are both smiling into the kiss until you grab and tug at his hair that makes him groan. He kisses you harder moving his hand under your shirt you keep playing with his hair and tugging at it, you love the sounds Peter makes. His hands move to your thighs you whimper when he gets dangerously close to your core.
  Peter pulls you into his lap you moan quietly when you feel him already hard from your actions he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth. His hands wander on your lower back instead of where you desperately want him to touch you "Peter" you whisper making him stop his movements to looks at you blushing and panting "touch me". His eyes widen as his blush deepens he kisses you with all his strength and lets his hands wander to your ass you moan and grab the hairs on the back of his neck.
You feel hot and sweaty so you quickly take your shirt of revealing your lace bra Peters eyes go wide and you feel his dick twitch in his pants. "fuck" Peter whispers never taking his eyes off of your tits he's embarrassed of how many times he has imagined you in situations like this that he can't believe that it is happening and how gorgeous you are. 
He moves his kisses to your jaw then neck trying to find your soft spot "fuck Peter right there" you moan when he finds that delicious spot of yours. Peter swears he has never heard anything hotter then your moaning and panting he makes it his mission to get you to make those sounds as many times as he can. He sucks and bites at your spot making you move in his lap you both groan when you rub against his hard dick. He moves his lips to your chest his mouth sucks on the exposed skin of your left boob while his hand fondled with the other." fuck baby feels so good" you say out of breath this was way better than you imagined.
Peter helps you move on his lap you both gasp and moan at the incredible sensation. Peter stops to look at you as you move yourself on him "fuck you're so beautiful" you kiss him in response never stopping your movements the kiss is sloppy and hot your both panting and moaning into each others mouth.
You kiss down his jaw to his neck sucking and licking desperately your hands go under his shirt his skin is hot and sweaty. Peter whimpers and pulls you even closer to him when you find his spot. You move faster in his lap nothing but whimpers and gasps coming from your mouth. 
"Fuck this feels amazing" Peter moans throwing his head back, your hands are all over his chest you feel like you are going to explode any minute but that all stops when you hear the front door open.
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waitimcomingtoo · 9 months
Text
You Never Called It What It Was
Pairing: Peter Parker x Avengers!reader
Synopsis: you and Peter are friends with benefits who never admit your true feelings for each other until Peter gets hurt on a mission
Masterlist
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“What are you working on?”
You smiled when you heard Peters voice behind you but didn’t take your attention off the paper open on your laptop. You liked to play hard to get, and he liked to play until he got you.
“School work. Remember that?” You teased him.
“I remember. I just chose not to do it until it’s absolutely necessary.“ Peter shrugged and put his hands on either of your shoulders. He started to lazily rub his thumbs into your neck and you knew what he was looking for.
“That attitude is why you’re number two in the class.”
“Oh yeah? And who’s number one? Remind me.” Peter asked as he spun your swivel chair around to face him.
“That’d be me.” You smiled coyly. Peter returned the smile before leaning in for a long and slow kiss.
“Are you really gonna spend your Friday night doing homework? Because I can think of a hundred other fun things we could he doing right now.” He said once he pulled away.
“Oh really? Like what?
“Why tell you when I could just show you?” Peter asked before kissing you again. You shut your laptop without breaking the kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck.
“Your room or mine?” He asked against your lips.
“When’s the last time you washed your sheets?”
“I don’t know. When’s the last time you slept over?”
“Gross.” You laughed. “Meet me in my room in ten.”
You didn’t exactly when your friendship with Peter turned into a little more. Living in the tower together made it inevitable that you’d end up falling for each other, especially after all the late nights you would spend up and talking to the other. It was so routine for you to spend the night in each others rooms that you could hardly remember a time when you didn’t. And despite the fact that you both told yourselves you were content with being friends with benefits, you couldn’t help but want more each time you hooked up.
A few nights later, Peter knocked on your door and pushed it open slightly, finding you in your bed with a book resting on your knees.
“Hey, pretty lady.” He said as he knocked on your doorframe.
“When are you gonna get a real girlfriend and stop bothering me?” You teased him and shut your book.
“When you admit your feels for me and run away together as lovers.” He shrugged, making you smile.
“I’m pretty sure we already are lovers.” You laughed and patted the spot beside you on your bed. Peter wasted no time in sitting next to you and moving hair off your forehead.
“Is that what you call it?” He asked. His tone was playful but his eyes looked genuine. He wanted it know what you were but you didn’t have an answer to give.
“I guess so. I mean, it’s not like we’re dating or anything. But we’re definitely not just coworkers.”
“No. Course not.” Peter said through a laugh but you could tell it hurt him when you said you weren’t dating.
“We’re just…” You trailed off and shrugged.
“Friends?” He asked with a sad smile.
“Yeah. Who are really, really, extra friendly.” You smiled as you leaned in to connect your lips to his. Peter kissed you back and cupped your face to pull you closer to him. He gently laid you down on the bed and shot a web at the door to close and lock it.
“Do you treat any of your other friends like this?” He asked you between kisses.
“No. I save this all for you, P.”
“Good.” He smiled. “I want you all to myself.”
Cue PG-13 rom com level “morning after” shot where they’re tangled in the sheets and a soft song plays while they stare at each other.
“I should probably head back to my room.” Peter said, though that wasn’t what he wanted to do. Your eyes were shut and you were laying on his chest, tightening your grip when he suggested leaving.
“You don’t have to. If you’re tired, just go to sleep.” You said without opening your eyes. Peter looked down at you to see if you were serious but you were hardly awake.
“Do you want me to stay?” He asked quietly.
“I don’t care.” You said through a yawn and held him tighter. Peter didn’t said anything and you got the feeling he wasn’t sure what he should do. You opened one eye and checked on him and sure enough, he looked as conflicted as ever.
“Yes. I do. I want you to stay.” You admitted. You felt Peter relax and lay his head back back on the pillow. He slipped an arm around you and held you close while resting his cheek on your head.
“Thanks. I wanted to stay.” He said softly.
“Shh. Go to sleep.”
“Okay. Goodnight.” He said and you could tell he was smiling.
“Goodnight, P.”
After a day where Peter didn’t see or hear from you, he was pleasantly surprised to see you in his doorway once the sun had set.
“Hey.” You smiled and waved to him.
“Hey. Come here.” He sat up and motioned you to come closer. You smiled and went to his bed to crawl into his lap. You straddled his hips by sliding your legs under his propped up arms and kissed him hello before settling into his arms.
“Missed you. I haven’t seen you all day.” He playfully whined as he toyed with your hair.
“I know. I was at the beach with my friends.”
“Was it fun?”
“Yeah. It was weird though.”
“Weird? Why?”
“When I was with them, I kept turning to my left thinking you were there.” You laughed shyly as you sat up to look at him. Peter scooted closer to you and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“What?” Peter laughed too. “Did you forget I didn’t go?”
“No.” You shrugged. “I just found myself missing you. I wanted you to be there.”
Peter couldn’t hide the blush that painted his face when he heard that you missed him. He missed you all the time when you weren’t around, so it was nice to hear the feeling was being reciprocated.
“You can invite me next time. Then you won’t have to miss me.” Peter said with a shy smile.
“You wouldn’t want to hang out with my friends.” You laughed and shook your head.
“Yes I would. If you like them, I’d probably like them too. They’re an extension of you and I…like you.” He stumbled over his words and squeezed his eyes shut when he realized what he had said.
“Maybe I will invite you then. They’ve been dying to meet you.”
“So you talk about me to them, huh?” He smiled cheekily.
“Of course I do. I tell them about everything that’s ever happened to me.” You said causally. Peters smile faltered a little and you realized you accidentally made it seem like Peter was just another little meaningless detail of your life.
“Plus, they’re all jealous that I’m living with the guy I’m sleeping with and therefore get some every single night.” You added, making him smile again. But this smile was different. It was sadder this time.
“Is that what you refer to me as around them? The guy you’re sleeping with?” He joked but felt disappointed.
“No. I call you Peter.” You said simply.
“Oh. Good. That’s better.” Peter relaxed again and drummed his fingertips on your waistband.
“Why? What do you call me?” You wondered.
“I never know what to call you. I usually just end up referring to you as my girl.” Peter shyly admitted.
“I don’t hate that.” You shrugged, making Peter smile hopefully.
“You don’t?”
“No. I actually think it’s cute. It’s not as constricting as “girlfriend” but still lets people know I hold a special place.” You said and cupped his face just to get a better look at his. His hair was messy and his face was flushed
“Well, good.” Peter blushed under your touch. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll keep calling you that, then.”
“Good.” You felt your face heat up too as you looked at him. His expression changed from playful to serious as he tilted his chin up to kiss you. He kissed you long and slow, just because he wanted to kiss you. He didn’t expect anything from you tonight. He just wanted to be around you.
“Do you want to watch a movie? I was just gonna put on Grown Ups 2.” He said once he pulled away.
“But I’ve never seen the first one.” You said as you laughed at his choice of movie.
“You don’t need to.” He waved his hand. “All you need to know is that they’re grown ups and this is the second time they’ve done that.”
“Sounds perfect.” You laughed again and slid off his lap so that you could lay beside him in the bed. You snuggled into his side while he played the movie on his laptop.
You woke up the next morning in Peters arms. That wasn’t unusual for you, but something felt different about this particular morning. You sat up and rubbed your tired eyes before looking at his floor. The string of discarded clothing that usual dawned his floor the night after you slept over wasn’t there since all of your clothes were still on. You looked down at Peter and felt a sinking feeling in your chest. He stirred awake and slowly opened his eyes just as you were coming to terms with it all.
“Hey. Good morning.” Peter said through a yawn while he rubbed your back.
“We didn’t hook up last night.” You said, mostly to yourself.
“Yeah, no. We just watched the movie and fell asleep.” Peter shrugged and tried to pull you back down to cuddle. You pulled away from him and quickly got out of the bed.
“I should go. I didn’t mean to sleep over. Sorry.” You said as you backed up towards his door.
“I don’t care.” Peter laughed like it was silly. “You can sleep over whenever you want. You know that.”
“I know. But we’ve never just had a sleepover before.” You said and held yourself tightly. Peter could sense that you were freaking out about something so he got out the bed and put his hands on your shoulders.
“Hey, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean anything.” He assured you. You relaxed when Peter said that, which broke his heart. It did mean something to him, a lot actually. But you seemed like you didn’t want it to mean anything, so he pretended he felt the same.
The next day, you walked into the kitchen where the rest of the team was and went straight to where Peter was sitting. You’d relaxed about the night before and tried not to think about it anymore. You put your feet into his lap and stole a piece of toast off his plate while the other Avengers watched you.
“So are you guys dating now or what?” Tony asked casually as he popped a grape in his mouth.
“What? No.” You answered immediately. Peters head snapped to you when he heard how quick you answered and felt his heart sink.
“Yeah. No.” Peter nodded his head without taking his eyes off you. Tony gave Peter a look that said he didn’t believe Peter for a second.
“Really? Because I’m not sure if you know the definition of dating or not, but you’re following it exactly.” Tony said sarcastically.
“It’s just sex.” You shrugged, making Peter feel even worse.
“Is it? Because I’ve seen you doing plenty of non-sexual romantic activities together.” Natasha added in.
“So what? That doesn’t mean we’re dating. It comes with the package of being friends with benefits.” You replied all too quickly for Peters liking.
“I never really understood the whole “with benefits” things. If you like someone’s company enough to consider them a friend and also trust them with your body and desire them in a non-platonic way, why not just date? What’s the point of you two sleeping together every night and cuddling on the couch if you’re not gonna admit you’re in a relationship?” Pepper added in her thoughts.
“Because we’re not in a relationship.” You said definitively. “We’re friends who like to get a little extra friendly. That doesn’t mean I want to be anybody’s girlfriend.”
“Your generation is so weird. You literally are his girlfriend. Why can’t you just call it what it is?” Tony asked you.
“Because we’re not dating.” You laughed in annoyance. “And I don’t want to be dating. I just want to hook up. It’s really just that simple.”
“Yeah. It’s simple. It’s not complicated or confusing at all.” Peter added. He’d been silent for so long that you had forgotten he was there. You felt bad for getting so defensive without thinking of how it would make him feel.
“I don’t believe it. There is no way you two are doing what you’re doing and not catching feelings. You’re either lying to us right now, lying to each other, or lying to yourselves.” Tony replied. Peter looked at you to see how you felt about that, and you didn’t like it at all.
“This conversation is stupid. I’m disengaging.” You said as you got up and left the kitchen.
“It’s okay to want love.” Tony called after you.
“Disengaged.” You shouted back. Once you were gone, everyone looked at Peter tinder his reaction. It was very obvious to the room that he felt the exact opposite to what you said.
“I’m in love with-“ Peter began.
“We know.” They all said in unison.
That night, you were determined to put some space between you and Peter. So when he came and found you on the balcony, you kept your plan at the front of your mind and prepared to say no to any and all of his advances.
“Hey.” He said as he sat beside you.
“Hey.” You said without looking up from your laptop.
“Do you want to watch Grown Ups 1 and make out during the scary parts?”
“I’m not really in the mood tonight. Sorry, P.” You replied, already feeling guilty for how cold you were being.
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s all good.” Peter assured you. “Do you want to hang out at least?”
“I’m kinda busy tonight. Maybe some other time?” You asked and finally looked at him.
“Then can I just sit here and watch?” He asked in a soft voice as he sat on the edge of the desk.
“Watch me do homework?”
“I just want to be in your company.” He shrugged. You gulped and had to look away or else you’d cave in to those big brown eyes of his.
“Why?” You played dumb.
“I don’t know. Because I like to be around you.” He shrugged and felt his face heat up. You knew he was expecting the girl who said she missed him when he wasn’t around, but you couldn’t be that girl anymore. You had to set some boundaries before you ended up in a relationship.
“Actually, I think I’m gonna go to bed. I’ve done enough work today.” You said and shut your laptop.
“Oh. Okay. Yeah. I’m tired too. I’ll walk you to your room.” Peter said and followed you to your room. You turned to face him once you were in your doorway and felt a new sense of awkwardness between you.
“Well, goodnight.” You said and did finger guns at him.
“Goodnight.” He said and slipped an arm around your waist. He kissed your cheek and you felt yourself tear up at the kind gesture. He was being so good to you and you were being so cold. He turned to leave and you felt your heart following him out the door.
“Peter, wait.”
“Yes?” He stopped immediately and came back.
“Did you want to sleep here?” You asked and pointed to your bed over your shoulder.
“No. That’s okay. I can tell you want to be alone.” Peter said with no self pity in his voice. He was just reading your cues and for some reason, that made you feel even worse.
“And I can tell you don’t want to be. You can stay. We can be alone together.”
“Okay.” Peter smiled and went into your room. He climbed into your bed and you got in after him. You held him and let him be the little spoon to make up for being mean to him. It didn’t take long for Peter to fall asleep but you didn’t have the same luck. Your mind was racing with too many thoughts as you tried to figure out how your plan to put some distance between you and Peter ended up with him in your arms. The more you thought about why you couldn’t just reject him like he was any other boy, the more the answer became clear.
“Oh fuck.” You whispered. “I love him.”
Now that you knew you had fallen for Peter, you had to end things. You couldn’t keep sleeping with him now that you knew you wanted more. So when Peter woke up the next morning, you were already gone. He frowned in confusion and went into the kitchen to find you.
“Has anyone seen Y/n?” Peter asked the team.
“Your girlfriend is off on a run.” Tony said without looking up from his magazine.
“Without me?” Peter wondered out loud and walked out of the room. He walked back in a few seconds later with his finger in the air.
“And she’s not my-“
“We know.” Tony groaned and waved Peter away.
Peter hung around in the foyer until finally, you came through the door. You gave him a quick smile and went to walk past him without saying anything.
“Hey. I was looking for you.” Peter said as he put his hand on your stomach to physically stop you. He looked so different now that you knew you were in love with him. Someone you once considered your best friend now felt impossible to talk to.
“You found me. Bye.” You quickly dismissed yourself but Peter caught you by the arm and gently pulled you back.
“Wait. I didn’t expect you to be gone this morning when I woke up.” He said quietly so no one could overhear.
“I had to leave early. I wanted to run to clear my head.”
“You should’ve woken me up. I would’ve come with you.” Peter told you. You folded your lips into a tight line and he immediately read your mind.
“Unless you wanted to clear your head of me.” He realized as he added up all your recent behavior.
“Look, Peter, it’s nothing personal.” You sighed. “I’ve been thinking about it for a minute and last night confirmed it for me. I don’t I want to hook up with you anymore.”
“Oh.” Peter blinked a few times in shock. “Okay. Woah. Um, did I do something wrong?”
“No. I just think we should start seeing other people. I think it will be good for the both of us to branch out.” You lied. You couldn’t tell him how you really felt, so you had to bury your feelinsg under a bunch of lies.
“You want to see other guys?” He asked, sounded heartbroken at the thought.
“Maybe not right away. But I think you and I should go back to being just friends.”
“Are you sure I didn’t do anything? If I said something stupid in my sleep last night that offended you or something I’m really sorry. I get weird dreams if I eat too late.”
“It’s not that. It’s not anything. I just don’t want to hook up with you anymore.” You shrugged and struggled to maintain eye contact with him knowing you were lying through your teeth and hurting him in the process.
“Is that all we were doing?” He asked, making you freeze. That was never all you were doing. It was just all you would admit to.
“Yes.” You said after a long beat of silence. Peter stared at you for a long time to give you a chance to take that back and admit you meant more to each other then just a fling. But you didn’t have the courage to do it, so he just ended up disappointed.
“Okay. If that’s your decision-“
“It is.” You said quickly, wanting to leave before you started to cry.
“Okay.” He nodded and gave you a tight smile. He put his hand on your arm as if he was going to lean in and kiss you, but then settled for a soft punch on the arm instead. He walked away from you and you felt your heart shatter.
You were all called in on mission the next day that required you to take the jet. You got there first and bounced your leg as you waited for Peter. He didn’t come by your room the night before which you expected, but still felt disappointed over. Peter finally walked on to the jet and looked around for an empty seat. There was one right next to you, which you patted to let him know he could sit there. He looked at it for a second before going to sit somewhere else. You blinked a few times in confusion before getting up to go sit next to him.
“There was a spot next to me.” You whispered to him as everyone else buckled up.
“I know.” He said without looking at you. You stared at him for a while and tried to read his face but he was turned away.
“We always sit next to each other.” You said quietly.
“I guess I just don’t want to do that anymore. I want to sit next to other people.”” He replied. You knew he was referencing what you had said to him about seeing other people and sighed.
“I thought we were going to being normal.” You whispered. Peter looked down at his lap for a minute before looking at you.
“I don’t know if I can just switch back to being normal.”
“Why not? It was just-“
“I know.” He cut you off. “Just sex. Just a fling. Just a meaningless hook up that ended once I left your bed. Trust me. I know how you feel.”
“P-“
“I gotta go.” Peter got up again and went to go sit somewhere else. You looked up and could see Tony looking at you with a displeased look. You sighed and shrunk down in your seat, not talking to anyone else as the jet took off. You couldn’t even accuse Peter of being a baby over you not wanting to sleep together anymore because you knew it wasn’t about that. It was about you acting like your relationship wasn’t what it was.
The mission went smoothly from your part and you completed your jobs with ease. You circled back to find the rest of the team but when you got there, you found everyone but Peter.
“Where’s Peter?” You asked. Everyone avoided eye contact with you and a pit grew in your stomach.
“Where’s Peter?” You asked again and pushed on the person closest to you.
“He’s in the next room.” Steve answered you without looking in your eyes. You pushed past everyone and ran onto the next room to go find him. When you got inside, you found Peter on the floor in a pool of blood. Tony was using his suit to try and repair a hole in Peters side.
“What happened?” You asked as you dropped to your knees at Peters side.
“Who me? Oh, nothing. I’m fine.” Peter smiled weakly waved his hand.
“Fine? You have a bullet hole in your side.” You exclaimed and took his hand to let him know you were there.
“It’s okay. It doesn’t even hurt that bad.” Peter lied before coughing up some blood. Everyone piled into the room to see Peter and you could hear them winced and murmuring at the sight of him. He was bleeding out quickly and Tony’s nanite spray wasn’t enough to stop it.
“We need to get him to the jet.” You said to Tony, who was looking at Peter in despair.
“The jet? We need to get him to the morgue.” Sam mumbled. You grabbed a random rock and threw it at him.
“Shut up!” You screamed as panicked tears fell down your face.
“I was just kidding. Damn. She threw a rock at me.” Sam mumbled and kicked the rock.
“He’s really hurt. We have to get him to the jet.” You said and went to scoop Peter up.
“This is gonna hurt.” Tony warned him.
“A little or a lottle?” Peter winced.
“Lottle, kid.” Tony said apologetically.
“Oh. Joy.” Peter groaned as you picked him up. You ran with him onto the jet. You laid him down on the table while Tony got out the medical supplies on hand.
“I don’t have any Novocain. Can you distract him while I fix this?” Tony whispered to you and held up the needle he had to use to stitch Peter up.
“Distract him how?” You asked.
“I don’t know. He’s your guy. Talk to him.” Tony hissed at you and gave you a stern look. You backed down and nodded your head to show him you understood that it was time to grow up. Peter was your guy and it was time to admit that. You slipped your hand into his again and knelt down to be close to his face.
“It’s okay. I know you don’t want to talk to me.” Peter smiled while tears slipped down his face.
“Yes I do. I always want to talk to you.”
“But you haven’t lately. I didn’t think you wanted to be friends anymore.”
“Peter-“
“It’s okay.” He assured you. “It’s okay if you don’t want to be my friend. I just miss you. Thanks for holding my hand.”
“I need to tell you something, P.” You sighed and brushed the hair off his face. Peter was struggling to fight the pain of being stitched up but still gave you his full attention.
“I’m sorry I’ve been distant lately. And I’m sorry I never explained why and just let you think you did something wrong. The truth is, I pushed you away because I was scared that our relationship was turning into more than just friends with benefits. I didn’t know how to handle the fact that this wasn’t just a fling anymore.”
“You never called it what it was.” Peter croaked out. “When the team was saying you were my girlfriend, you seemed angry that anyone could ever think that.”
“I know. And I’m sorry. I just got defensive because I was still trying to repress my feelings. I’m sorry I said all those things. I didn’t mean them.”
“What did you mean?” Peter asked quietly. Everyone was leaning in to listen but you pretended not to notice. You looked up at Tony and he nodded to tell you the time was now. You nodded back before looked down at Peter again.
“I love hooking up with you but I also love talking to you and hearing your opinions on things and the way you interpreted a song lyric or a movie scene. I love showing you shows I love and waiting to see which parts you find funny so I can laugh too. I love seeing your reaction to my stories and hearing about your day, even when you didn’t do anything exciting. I listening to the music you had in your iPod as a little kid and hearing what songs you could never forget the lyrics to, even if you tried. And if I love all those things, I guess I just love you. I freaked out when I realized that and thought if I stayed away from you, those feelings would go away. But they didn’t. I love you still.“ You told him. Everyone exchanged looks but held their tongues as your confession was heard through the jet. Peter broke into a smile that sent pain through his entire body.
“Normally this would be the part where I heroically kiss you and everyone claps, but I’m numb below my neck and about to pass out. So can you kiss me?“ Peter requested, making you smile until you saw the blood streaming from his lip and nose.
“You’re like…bleeding out of your nose and mouth.” You said with a smile so he didn’t know you were grossed out.
“Can you do it anyway? Please?” Peter asked and coughed up some more blood. You couldn’t say no to those eyes so you bent down and kissed him for a long time. When you pulled away, you gagged at the taste of blood in your mouth and Peter grimaced at the sight of his blood on your face.
“That’s gross. You were right. We should’ve waited.” Peter laughed and started coughing again.
“We’ll try it again when you’re cleaned up.” You assured him.
“Good.” He smiled. “But I’m gonna pass out now. I’ll see you when you wake up.”
Peter did in fact see you when he woke up. You had all made it back on the jet and rushed Peter to extensive care. By the time he woke up, he was healing nicely and all cleaned up. More importantly, you were right there in the doorway watching the doctor dress his wound. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you, then saw the doctor. He was about to ask him to leave to give you and him some privacy to talk about what you had said on the jet, but you beat him to it. You touched the doctors arm as you sat down on Peters hospital bed and held his hand.
“Excuse us, doc.” You smiled politely. “Thank you so much for the help. But I need a minute alone with my boyfriend.”
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