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saintlike78 · 2 years

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A sort of addiction [P.P]

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Navigation | Mailcarrier May

A/N: So excited for the first server collab! Mail carrier May is here and I’m glad to present my fic for this collab☀️I hope you enjoy and remember to check out the rest of the fics and show them some love <3

Pairings: tasm!mailman!Peter Parker x fem!reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: How do you get your very attractive mailman to come around often? Order an alarming amount of packages, of course

Warnings: NSFW 16+, thigh grinding, Peter being too smug for his own good, mailman au. As always lmk if I missed anything

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It was completely insane and irrational - slightly creepy even - that was all that ran through your head as your fingers finished typing in the last digits of your credit card on yet another website, buying useless items you really didn’t need.

Well, that set was just calling out to you… not at all the thought of seeing the tall and conveniently handsome mailman, right?

Hitting the ‘complete purchase’ button you let out a long sigh, looking over to the mirror that hung on the wall.

“You’re insane,” you spoke aloud to yourself, shaking your head.

You didn’t even completely know what you expected to happen, except for making him believe that you had a slight shopping addiction and that you were possibly insane.

Spending money you quite frankly didn’t have had only just become a habit since the post office in your small town changed the delivery route, putting your address on Peter Parker’s route. The first morning he came knocking after the route change you had wanted to crawl into a hole and pass away; having opened the door wearing the corniest pyjama set you owned along with a stupid pair of fuzzy bunny slippers - the look of shock on your face when your usual old postman wasn’t on the other side of the door was enough to put a permeant amused smirk on the tall man’s face for the entirety of the exchange… much to your dismay and embarrassment.

Ever since that first morning you had tried to at least wear something half-decent when opening the door, even if Peter’s greeting each morning was a smug “mornin’ bunny, no slippers today?”

No matter how much time passed the comment still managed to force a heated blush upon your throat and cheeks. He was just so infuriatingly attractive and stupidly smooth-talking - it honestly pissed you off a bit.

Over the weeks you tried steadily building your confidence to at least make your encounter longer than him handing you a package or a letter; it started with offering him a glass of water, then a cup of coffee, a little piece of breakfast - as a pick me up of course - which turned into him coming in for about 15 minutes each day to talk. Sometimes he would ask to see what you had bought, even sometimes to give him a little fashion show of all the new items that were beginning to overflow in your closet.

Peter was pleasant company, but no matter how many mornings you spent with him, you couldn’t get rid of that shy giddy feeling that seemed to overtake your entire being whenever he greeted you with that stupid smile of his and a package under his arm for you.

The familiar knock on your door pushed your body from its place on the couch, your feet gliding quickly across the floor to open the front door for the lanky man with a lopsided grin.

“Mornin’ bunny… got another package for you,” Peter smirked a bit, moving in through the door with such familiarity that you couldn’t help but smile a bit to yourself.

“I got us a new coffee to try… it says on the package that the beans are specially roasted,” you smiled, moving into the kitchen to put on the kettle.

Peter followed close behind you with a hum, “wait, you have to show me what you got first. The box is so fancy.”

A small gasp caught in your throat when the memory of what you had ordered sprung right to the front of your mind, the thought setting your cheeks ablaze.

“Oh… it’s just something silly, not really worth showing,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand, moving to flip the switch on the kettle.

Before you could touch the switch, a hand curled around your wrist, pulling you away from the counter, “please! I want to see what it is,” Peter just about whined, giving you a huge pout.

“It’s really nothing, Peter… just some house decor stuff,” you lied, trying your best to sound casual about it.

The look on Peter’s face, however, told you that you in fact weren’t being casual about it when suddenly a small smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.

“Is it like lingerie or something?”

When you didn’t answer, only looked to the side to hide the way your face and look gave you away; but Peter only laughed.

“It is!” he grinned, pulling your body closer to him with your wrist still in his grasp, “won’t you show me?” he spoke lowly.

Your eyes flitted up to his in shock, but you ended up shocking yourself with just how close he had pulled you - so close you could smell his cologne, making your knees weak.

Spluttering words seemed to be the only noise you were able to produce for a solid minute or so as you just kept staring up at him, expecting him to laugh and reveal his bluff, but he only stared down at you with that infuriatingly smug smirk - he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Come on, bunny… - I came all the way here with the parcel, the least you could do is show me what you’ve bought,” he spoke lowly, moving you slowly with him back to the living room where the parcel was placed carelessly on the table.

“-I… are you sure?“ you asked, avoiding his eyes again, not quite sure what was going on.

Peter chuckled gripping your chin to force your gaze on him, “don’t you think I know why you order so many packages? Why you make coffee and breakfast for me, hmm?”

“- And you know what I think, sweetheart?” Peter leaned down, his face only a breath away from yours, “I think you knew exactly what you were doing when you ordered that little package over there.”

The smallest of whimpers slipped past your parted lips - if it hadn’t been for Peter’s face right in yours he probably wouldn’t even have heard it, but that was not the case. A shit-eating grin overtook his bright face as his hand not holding your chin gripped your waist tightly.

A shocked gasp escaped you when his soft lips met yours in the quickest of pecks - so quick you didn’t really have time to actually process that it happened.

“Now, show me what you got,” he whispered, pushing you toward the table and out of his grasp.

You halted a bit, trying to get your mind to catch up with everything that was happening.

Reaching out one hand, you curled your fingers around his larger one pulling him with you toward the package; mostly to calm your nerves - and to make sure he was real.

“You kissed me…?” you stated, even if it did come out as more of a question.

Peter chuckled behind you, snaking an arm around your waist as he looked over your shoulder to watch you fumble with the black decorated box on the table.

“I did. And I’ll do it again when you show me what pretty little thing you’ve bought,” he spoke lowly, lips ghosting over your neck leaving goosebumps to rise over your entire body.

With a little struggle, you finally got your shaky hands to open the box to reveal a mountain of pink tissue paper placed neatly to hide the content of the box. The scrunch of the paper sounded through the otherwise quiet living room as you slowly peeled it off to reveal the black and red lacy set that sat prettily before you.

Peter clicked his tongue before letting out a very pleased hum.

“Now would you look at that,” his hands ghosted over your hips and waist, trailing all around your upper body with teasingly slow movements.

“Peter,” you whimpered, hand reaching up behind you to clumsily grip his shoulder.

His lips had begun a path up your neck, leaving small kisses on their way up to speak huskily in your ear as his hands kept their teasing touch on you.

“Were you planning on wearing that under a pretty little dress like this tomorrow? Perhaps bend over to give me a little taste, huh? Was that your plan, sweetheart?”

You were completely certain he could feel the warmth that travelled up your neck on his lips, feel the way your pulse quickened with his words and the bashful nod that moved your head.

“Naughty girl,” he whispered, his tone so smug you could hear the smirk that adorned his face without seeing it.

With quick movements you managed to turn in his arms, resting your hands on his solid chest, “please, Peter… no more teasing,” you whined, looking at him with huge eyes.

“Alright alright,” he chuckled, bringing you impossibly closer to his chest, “I’ll stop the teasing if you promise to wear that sweet set for me tomorrow.”

You nodded quickly, fisting at his uniform, “I promise… just touch me, please.”

Peter’s face was nothing but smiles as he reconnected your lips - only this time he was thorough with the way he kissed you. The kiss was rough and demanding, sending sparks through your entire being, following his lead blindly, letting him take exactly what he needed. Excitement filled you even more at the thought of the actions repeating itself, it was a promise and you knew he would keep it by the way his tongue explored your mouth and his hands gripped you tight.

With clumsy movements, he backed you both over to the wall pressing your frame against it and pressing himself against you. You gasped into his mouth when the smallest of friction came from Peter’s thigh slotting between your gradually parting legs.

“Grind on me,” Peter groaned between kisses, not taking a moment to breathe - too caught up in drawing gasping pleasured moans from your mouth.

Your hands found their way up and around his neck, gripping his hair to stabilize yourself as you slowly started grinding your panty-clad cunt against him. The cotton fabric was damp, sliding with ease against the strong leg that bounced between yours and your soaked cunt.

“Mmm Peter… fuck,” you whined into his mouth, the movements of them against one another halting because of your interrupting moans and whimpers.

He sent you a toothy grin before moving his head down, attacking your neck with open-mouthed kisses, occasionally sucking a mark into your sensitive skin. His teeth and tongue dragged along your skin, pulling whimpering whines from your parted kiss-swollen lips.

“God, baby, I can feel you soaking through my fucking pants,” Peter spoke gruffly before sinking his teeth into your flesh making you cry out. His tongue came to run over the inflicted area to soothe it.

Everything was too much and not enough at all; your hips frantically picked up their pace, racing toward the end. Peter’s hands glided down your body, gripping your hips maddeningly tight to help you grind against him.

“Peter, ‘m gonna cum,” you moaned, tightening your grip on his hair prompting the most delicious of groans to fall from his lips.

He raised his head from your neck to crash his lips against yours again, soaking up your needy gasps and moans as they fell from you more frequently and higher pitched as you dangled right on the edge of release.

Your body tensed when the pressure in your abdomen finally snapped and sent warm pleasure through you with each pulse of release. Peter moaned into your mouth when he felt you shake in his hold, throbbing and gushing on his leg. It was hard to concentrate on kissing him back when all you could hear was static, sending shockwaves through you.

“There you go, bunny,” Peter grinned, slowing your movements, helping you ride out your release.

You blearily reached down to palm him through his pants, but he was quick to grip your wrist and bring it to his mouth to kiss it.

“It’s your turn,” you whispered, leaning forward to kiss his neck as he had done for you.

Peter chuckled lowly, squeezing your hip in his strong grip, “as much as I would love that, sweetheart, I do have the rest of my mail route to deliver.”

A small whine escaped you as a pout settled on your lips in your slightly hazy headspace.

“Aww, don’t pout, you needy thing,” Peter cooed, “how about I come back later? Then you can get my cock as many times as you want, would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nodded quickly, burying yourself in the warmth of his chest as his arms found their way around your body to squeeze you against him.

“Alright, I’ll come back, as long as you promise to wear that pretty little number for me,” Peter murmured against the top of your head, leaving a small kiss on your hairline.

“I promise,” you sighed, “do you promise to come back?”

He gave your body a proper squeeze before separating you enough for your eyes to meet, “I promise,” he smiled.

You very quickly learnt that when Peter promises something he keeps that promise, over and over and over again.

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A/n: to be notified of future work follow @saintlike78slibrary and turn on notifications ☀️

#peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker oneshot #mailman au #peter parker #andrew garfield peter parker #julia’s sin posts #.mailcarrier may!

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 7 months

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ayyy im back with another Unedited human au snippet <3 it's almost entirely dialogue oopsies <3

Eddie slows in putting his coat on - Barnaby isn’t sticking around to chat with fellow staff like usual. He’s in a rush, scrambling to grab his jacket and hurrying from behind the bar. He dashes through the door, looking like a man on a mission.

The door Mr. Frankly had just vanished through.

Could he be…? No, Barnaby seems like a good man. But he had seemed a little pushy with Mr. Frankly, from what Eddie could tell.

It couldn’t hurt to make sure.

Eddie frowns deeply as he goes outside, wincing slightly at the first burst of cold air after hours spent in a warm building. He’s just in time to see Barnaby jog up behind Frankly and close his car door before he can get in. Barnaby immediately leans against the door with his arms crossed, pinning it shut and blocking Frankly from the driver’s seat.

Eddie’s stomach plummets. Before he knows it, he’s speed-walking across the parking lot towards them, a fire burning in his chest and his hands curled into fists.

Frankly says something loud enough that Eddie can almost hear, his voice echoing in the empty lot. As Eddie watches, Barnaby pokes Frankly’s chest, making him stagger back a step.

“Hey!” Eddie barks.

Both of them jump and whip around - Barnaby’s eyebrows shoot into his hair, while Frankly’s lowers into a flat line.

“Eddie?” Barnaby says.

At the same time, Frankly says, “Mr. Dear?”

The two of them look at each other in surprise. Eddie pays the exchange no mind. He stops by Frankly, trying to slightly angle himself in front of him without making it too obvious.

“Is everything all right here?” he asks, looking Barnaby up and down. He really hopes this won’t come to blows - Eddie can throw a punch well enough, but Barnaby is an imposing figure. Eddie already knows he’d likely lose, but as long as he can buy Frankly a couple extra seconds…

“No, actually, everything is not fine,” Frankly says in a ticked-off - and strangely scolding - tone.

Barnaby, not breaking eye-contact with Frankly, counters with, “Everything’s peachy, Ed.”

“You sure about that?” Eddie asks, trying to keep his tone amicable.

“Scout’s honor.”

“Please,” Frankly scoffs, “you were never a boy scout. And that’s not the point - I am trying to get home!”

“You are trying to die in the most avoidable way possible.”

Eddie shoots Frankly a concerned look. “You’re what?”

“I am perfectly sober,” Frankly says.

Barnaby raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “Your face is flushed.”

“It is not!”

Eddie winces. “It, uh, it is. A little.”

“It’s none of your business,” Frankly seethes.

“Listen,” Barnaby sighs. He leans heavier against the car and rubs the back of his neck. “I don’t wanna be the one 'ta call Julie and deliver the news that her beloved Frankie went and got himself killed at the taco bell intersection.”

Frankly makes a high and derisive noise. “Excuse you, I have class. I’d die outside of Howdy’s.”

“Please, he’d turn your memorial into part of the gift shop. I can already see the signs - ‘dead friend sale, five percent off!’”

“I’m worth at least thirty percent.”

Eddie clears his throat and gestures between the two of them. “You two… know each other?”

“Unfortunately,” Frankly mutters.

Barnaby grins. “Aw, you’re just saying that. It’s okay - I know ya love me, Frankie. You don’t have to say it.”

“I do not.”

“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”

Frankly rolls his eyes. “You’re unbearable.”

“And yet…”

Eddie heaves a sigh - of relief or exhaustion, he’s not sure - and drags a hand over his face. “Alright. Good, I - good to know.”

“What, did’ja think I was attacking him?” After a moment of prolonged, awkward silence, Barnaby’s teasing smile drops. “Oh. You did.”

“Barnaby? Attack me?” Frankly snorts. “Give him some credit - he’s smarter than he looks.”

“Yeah, I’d have better chances taking on a pack’a hyenas!” Barnaby lets out a hearty cackle. “At least then we’d all get a laugh out of it!”

“So I misjudged the situation pretty terribly,” Eddie says, inching to the side to give Frankly his personal space back. “My apologies.”

“Don’t sweat it, Ed. I know Frank may look like a bundle of sticks, but he’s petrified wood all the way through! Pure stone, you know.” Barnaby grins and leans towards Eddie. He whispers conspiratorially, “‘Cept when it comes to holdin’ his liquor. Then he’s a total lightweight.”

“Barnaby,” Frankly hisses.

“Practically paper!”

“That’s enough, thank you!” Frankly makes an attempt at shoving Barnaby away from the car door, but Barnaby widens his stance. It’s like watching someone try to move a tree.

“See, this is how I know he shouldn’t be driving,” Barnaby says conversationally to Eddie. “If he were sober, I’d be the one drunk - punch-drunk, that is.”

Eddie isn’t sure whether or not he should laugh - was that a joke? Barnaby seems fond of them, but… surely Frankly isn’t a violent person. Frankly lets out a growl of frustration and clumsily tries to bodyslam Barnaby. Eddie inches back a step.

“Alright Frankie, you had your fun.” Barnaby scruffs Frankly like a misbehaving cat and holds him at arm's length. He holds out a hand. “C’mon. Keys.”

“Never.”

“Have it your way. I’ll go ahead and call Poppy, tell her that you’ve forgotten the many dangers of-”

“Oh, fine,” Frankly spits. He yanks his keys out of his pocket and slaps them into Barnaby’s waiting hand.

Barnaby flicks the keys as Frankly stalks to the passenger side door and yanks it open. “Choose a place for dinner, we’ll swing by and pick it up - my treat.”

“Obviously your treat,” Frankly grumbles. “As if I’d-”

The slam of his door cuts off whatever he says next, though Eddie can see him still talking in the car. His phone screen illuminates his irritated expression as he - presumably - looks up places for takeout.

“Well, I’m glad you were here to stop him from doin’ somethin’ everyone would regret,” Eddie says. “Mr. Frankly-”

“Mr. Frankly?” Barnaby snorts. “You’re not one of his students, are ya?”

“I’m just bein’ polite. He set the tone by referrin’ to me by Mr. Dear, so I’m tryin’ to respect that line in the sand.”

Barnaby shakes his head, grinning. “Just call him Frank. He puts up a big show of bein' a grouch, but he’s really a big softie. Though don’t - don’t try to pick a fight with him. Ever. You’ll lose.”

“Wasn’t plannin' on it.” Eddie makes a mental note to keep calling him Mr. Frankly, just to be on the safe side. It’s not like they’re friends, anyway. More like… acquaintances. Occasional Run-Into-Each-Other strangers.

#shorter than usual - only a little over 1k - but yk the motivation provides what it provides #in my docs this is titled 'aw... babe's first protective attempt'#or i guess we could call it #eddie's past parasocial relationships come back to haunt him more than they already have #also barnaby definitely teased frank about eddie in whatever place they're picking up food from #lmaoooo no wait #barnaby: so about eddie-#frank: so about howdy.#barnaby: .....#frank: .....#barnaby: hey i think that's our order #wh modern human au #snippets from the bog #in my mind frank is actually kinda pleased #annoyed of course. he doesnt need anyone to protect him #but i bet a part of him enjoyed having the strong mailman attempt to ~come to his rescue~#i imagine that the next time they see each other frank invites him to lunch or somethin #'just' to 'thank' eddie for trying his best #yep alright yawn yawn yawn its almost 3 i should sleep #tomorrow is one of two final days to complete packing! its almost Time!#tonight was decent... got some tasty tacos... listened to somethin neat... did a bit of writing... yeah <3

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