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liz-allyn · 2 years

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sweet dreams [tasm!peter x fem!reader]

summary: you wake up one night with needs. Peter helps you solve them. (p without plot at all. there’s no point here, just pure fifth. there are cereal boxes with more filling content.)

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ NSFW content—minors DNI, grade-A, 100% pure smut, pwp, fem!reader, heavy daddy!kink, dom!peter, sub!reader, kinda innocence kink maybe, web-play

a/n: so here’s something I scraped off the inside of my skull bc maybe some people just need a distraction sometimes

“Mmmmm...” A needy, petulant whine flooded your thoughts and subconsciously spilled from your lips.

You felt a puff of breath brush across the exposed nape of your neck. A low chuckle and a dark smile.

“Aww, ‘m so sorry, baby—my bad,” your boyfriend snickered mischievously. You were blinded by heavy eyelids, but you could hear the Cheshire grin on his face. “It’s jus’ me, sweetheart.”

He placed an innocent kiss on your bare shoulder, reeling you in further away from your slumber. Your nostrils filled with the scent of him: the musk of spicy cedar body wash blended with the salty headiness of perspiration dampening his hair.

You groaned again, a more distraught protest coated with sleepiness. You were being pulled from the dark depths of your dream. If the rest of your body held the energy that burned in your belly, you’d dive back under the current and drown yourself.

“Hmmmm—nooooo,” was all you could mutter.

Through the Spider suit concealing most of his body, you felt the firm muscles of his upper half wrap around your torso, fitting himself to your back like a glove. His bare hands—one of your favorite parts of him—glided over your skin delectably, rousing a shiver down your spine. You were pleased that he’d removed his gloves, if not just for sanitary reasons, for the fact that the tiny ridges of his fingerprints kindled a burning desire in you like nothing else could.

His lips ghosting over the shell of your ear added more fuel to your fire. “Was gonna let you sleep, but you looked so cute all snuggled up, I couldn’t resist.” The timbre of his voice darkened as he appended, “That’s before I saw what you’re wearin’ underneath.”

You felt his fingertips start to crawl over every exposed piece of your flesh. What wasn’t bared to him, he’d make contact with, digging his fingers aside and underneath fabric like a hungry child digging into a cookie jar. He smoothed his hand over your shoulder, down your back, over your thighs, widening out around the round of your butt, pausing there as if to pay it special attention. Gooseflesh broke out across your skin as his hand traveled further south. His palm widened further until the expanse of his grip was on the back of your thigh, right below your rear. You shuddered as the tips of his digits slowed to a brutal drag, from miles down to millimeters. He teased the delicate skin between your thighs, but abstained from breaching the hem of your underwear; piously or fiendishly—you weren’t sure.

Overwhelmed by his weight, touch, smell, and sound, you still ached for more. You wanted him wrapped around you and inside you, to be engulfed by and immolate yourself in his flame.

The groan that you responded with sounded agonized—desperate. He hissed deeply in response, pushing the weight of his hips up into yours. “Feel bad,” he confessed, breathing hotly into your ear as his fingers drew circles in your flesh. “Sounded like you were having a good dream.”

You went still, then grumbled in frustration. Your body had indeed betrayed you, and now he was teasing you about it. You dragged your face under you, concealing your reddened cheeks into your pillow.

“Hey, hey, hey…” he tutted sympathetically, just as you were starting to worry about what ultimately gave you away. “None of that,” he wrapped both hands around your middle, molding your form to his. “No need to be shy, honey. S’okay.”

Reluctantly, you turned your head towards him, peeking out from the safety of your soft pillow.

A wicked smile stretched his lips. “Though if you wanna experience the real thing, all you gotta do is ask.”

You eyed him, considering his lewd suggestion. “Maybe I don’t wanna ask,” you murmured, your sleep-laden lips curling into a teasing pout. “Maybe I wan’you to just... take.”

His mouth parted slightly at this, but he knew exactly what you meant.

You were a sharp, strong-willed, capable (and downright formidable) woman, and 99% of the time that meant holding everything and everyone together. You were cool, coordinated and collected—commanding when necessary. Although you concealed it well, the weight of that 99% threatened to crush you. It was the 1%—that sweet release of responsibility and control—that you craved. It was the only thing that kept you going. And Peter could give it to you like no one else.

You blinked innocently at him, waiting—watching. Knowing that his brain was now effectively a boiling pot of water, bubbling with salacious intent, spilling over with obscene thoughts. The look in his eye could practically melt you.

“Is’at right?” His rumbling voice was so low and tempered, it barely left his body—the kind of sound that lives beneath your skin like a splinter.

To answer him, you arched your lower back, pushing the soft flesh of your rear back into his hips. You felt the outline of his hardened cock beneath the leggings of the suit. He eagerly received you, his fingers around the crest of your pelvis as his hips met yours.

Again, you didn’t have to see it to know what was happening. You could hear the way his breath hitched and the wet sound he made sucking his lip between his teeth. He somehow covered more of your body with his.

“That was a question, baby,” he urged with a sharp, teasing tongue. You felt his lips plant tiny searing kisses along the back of your shoulder up the curve of your neck. “Wanna hear you answer.”

You furrowed your brows, grumbling with a somewhat bratty tone, “Defeats the purpose if I gotta ask...”

A moment passed; you felt his hand travel up between your shoulder blades. In a blink, he grasped your hair and yanked your head back. You hissed at being wrenched to attention. With your chin lifted off the pillow, neck angled backward, you peered at him in your periphery.

Jawline sharp, teeth gritted, eyes black. “I meant I want you to beg me for it,” he whispered hotly into your ear. He punctuated his demand with a lewd grind of his hips, his cock poking into the small of your back. The muscles in your pelvic floor clenched up reflexively. You licked your lips through open-mouthed breaths.

“Please,” you purred without hesitation. Your pride was only a passing afterthought. Another heavy breath. He paused expectantly, but the crashing waves in your core made the wait a short one. “Please, Daddy... Wan’you to fuck me so bad.”

Peter exhaled sharply, his chest heavy with lust, eyes dark with desire. His free hand feathered up your forearm and then clamped down over your wrist, pinning it to the sheets near the pillow by your head. He ground down on you again, rubbing his hard erection into your core.

“Yeah?” he breathed out. If he wasn’t salivating, his mouth would be a desert.

“Touch me, Daddy…” you mewled sinfully. You pushed your hips back, hoisting up the heated, wet center between your thighs. He grimaced as the hard muscle in his crotch connected with that delicious spot, relishing in the warmth there beneath your panties.

His free hand not pinning your wrist slid over the round of your opposite shoulder. You shuddered as his fingers tightened around your throat, pulling a moan from your lips. He groaned at the noise, his knee slotting between your thighs.

“Mmm, sweet girl,” he whispered, admonishing teasingly, “you know I can’t help myself when you call me that, yeah?” He began to suck harsh kisses into the flesh of your neck. “Makes me feel like an animal...”

You bit your lip, exposing more of your shoulder to him. His hold on your wrist and neck loosened to your disappointment, but before you could whine, you heard a thwip. Both of your hands were now covered in webs and secured to the headboard above your pillow.

Your jaw fell agape with excitement at the display of dominance. The realization that your arms were firmly bound above your head sent a flutter through the muscles in your belly. You hissed desperately.

He pulled your jaw to the side into a searing hot kiss, his tongue taking full advantage of your open mouth. Simultaneously, his free hand traveled down towards the thin material of your panties, yanking them down your hips.

Impatiently, he shoved his hand in the narrow gap between your crotch and the bedsheets. He stilled his wrist, calming his movements, so he could gently glide through your folds. He teased the sensitive flesh, relishing in the wetness coating his fingertips.

“So wet f’me, baby, fuck,” he muttered, tensing through his own ache. He wasted no time, overcome with need, rubbing tight circles around your clit. You arched at the fervent stimulation, unintentionally escaping his touch.

“N’ah uh,” he tutted mischievously. “Y’know better than to try an’ pull away from me, baby. Be a good girl and let Daddy have that sweet pussy, yeah?”

You let out a filthy whimper, putting weight in your knees to push your ass further against his hard-on. The subsequent V formed between your thighs allowed him access to breach your core. He slipped his fingers inside your velvety, wetness, humming with satisfaction.

“Tha’sit, good girl—”

“Owww, God, Pete—fucking love it when you play with me…”

“I know, baby, I know. Is ‘at why I found you twisted up under the sheets… grinding your pretty pussy into the mattress? Were you waiting for Daddy to come home and touch you, huh?”

Your voice shattered shamelessly into a whine, nodding frantically. “Mmm-hmm…”

Your skin roasted and your blood boiled beneath his touch. He ran his hand back through your hair, the feeling of his nails gently scraping your scalp pushing you into a fevered state. His other hand curled up, his ring and middle fingertips brushing up against the softest part of you. The heel of his palm bucked against your clit, making your legs clench and your eyes roll-up.

“Wha’s that?” he grunted. “You were sayin’?”

“Please, please—want your cock. Need you so bad...”

He pulled his hand away from you, and your body revolted at the loss. He pushed himself up onto his knees, driven momentarily by his own needs. You began to protest until you saw him tearing at the top of his suit and the waist of his pants. You glanced behind at the delicious plains of his pecs, now exposed to you. Chest heaving, mouth open and panting like a dog, he gripped the satin of your underwear, shimmying them down and off your legs. It took all of his self-control not to rip them off your body.

Fumbling, you pressed your thighs together to hoist your hips up. You pressed your face into your pillow, shamelessly bent over and on your knees. He reached into his pants, pulling out his dripping cock, lip pinched in his teeth. His wolfish gaze was glued your sex, like a predator eying prey. The sight alone made you whimper.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he shushed you. “I gotcha. I’m gonna give you what you want.” His tone darkened, “Good girls always get what they want, isn’t that right?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, burying your face in the pillow again.

Peter gazed down at you, rubbing himself up against your folds. His eyes flashed deviously, and his face twisted into a devilish smirk. “I said ‘isn’t that right?’” he repeated, with an emphasis. He pressed the smooth tip of his head to your aching cunt, but he didn’t enter you. “You been a good girl, huh?”

You hesitated, responding with nothing but a needy whine.

“Baby,” he said with a warning tone. His only saving grace at giving the game away was that you couldn’t see the cheeky smile on his lips. “I asked you a question. You been good tonight?”

You groaned pitifully.

“Uh-oh,” Peter tutted, his tone shifting towards one of admonishment. “C’mon, baby, come clean.” He teased wickedly, “You know what happens if you lie.”

“No—I didn’t—” you whined with a scandalized gasp, wiggling your hips. “No, I didn’t lie.”

“Then tell the truth,” he replied, leaning down over you. His thumbs squeezed your hips so hard you were sure to find bruises there the next morning. “Tell me. Did you break the rules?”

You bit your lip and fluttered your eyelashes, unsuccessfully feigning innocence. He went still, pressing his hand down on your back. A cautionary grumble rolled through his chest. “Baby...”

“M’sorry, I couldn’t help it,” you wailed into the pillow. “I was just... I was so hot and everything hurt, and I needed you so bad—”

He cut you off, yanking your hips down. With a yelp, you were flipped onto your back and gazing up at him, your webbed forearms crossed into an X. Even with a stern glare, a wry smile played on his face. He gripped your chin firmly, brow creased as he leveled his sights on you. “You know the rules,” he facetiously scolded. “Are you allowed to touch yourself without my permission?”

You wriggled your hips anxiously, desperate to relieve the ache in your core. “No...”

“Did you touch yourself tonight?”

“Yes, but—”

“Did you have my permission?”

You mewled pathetically, “But you left me here all alone—”

He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes with admonition. “Sorry? What was that?” You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to pull your chin from his grip. Despite his chiding tone, your little tantrum fueled his excitement. He licked his lips. “I know you’re not tryina blame me for this,” he teased disprovingly.

“No, please!” you whined, biting your lip seductively. “Don’ be mean, Pete... I need you.”

“Maybe what you need is a lesson, yeah? Since you already got off maybe I should just stop this right now, huh?”

“No!”

“No, what?”

You attempted to lift your shoulders up off the pillow, unable to move much with your hands bound. He spread his hand across your chest, the crux of his thumb resting at the base of your throat. You groaned at the sensation, and attempted to grind yourself on his thigh. “Please, Daddy,” you whimpered breathlessly. “I can be good, I promise. Lemme be good for you...”

The salacious look in your eye melted him from the inside out. He narrowed his eyes, lowering his body closer to you, resting his weight on one of his elbows as he rubbed his other thumb over your pouty lips.

“Hmm,” he sneered, his eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth. “You sure ‘bout that, sweetheart? You got me all worked up now...” He slowly pushed his thumb past your lips, sliding it to the back of your tongue. His jaw fell agape as he watched it disappear into the warmth of your mouth. You made a show of sucking and swallowing eagerly. “Sure you can take it all?” he challenged.

You nodded with bright, hungry eyes. His thumb popped out of your mouth with a wet smack. “I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”

He gazed down at you through hooded dark eyes. “How ‘bout we start with you tellin’ me about that naughty dream you had?” You blinked up at him as he traveled further south down your body until you felt the humidity of his breath between your thighs. “Don’t you dare stop talkin,’ no matter what. Jus’ keep workin’ that filthy mouth of yours, baby. I’ll keep workin’ mine.”

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