#peter b parker x y/n | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

madschiavelique · 9 months

Note

hii i love your work!

i was wondering if you could write a sensitive fem!reader x Miguel O’Hara x Peter B smut? peter is like a soft dom and miguel is a hard dom?

miguel of course says something a little to mean while fucking her from behind, and she starts to cry and peter is all like “miguel, you made her cry”

thank you 🙏🏼

OMG anon you don't know what this did to me

you just provoked my new addiction : i want to write so much more miguel x reader x peter now i'm OBSESSED (also tumblr was kinda bugging while i tried doing this post so i hope things will be alright fdvfbsef - and this is not proofread :D)

summary : miguel made you cry because he was mean as you were eiffel towered by him and Peter B.

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, hard dom!miguel o'hara, soft dom!peter b. parker, reader being eiffel towered (i'm french and feeling very patriotic on this one🥖), miguel being a bit too mean, overstimulation, pnv sex, sodomy, no use of Y/N word count : 1,2k

tag list : @fandom-ash

You whimpered once more, your whole body feeling electric and tired at the same time as you sank down shakily. Miguel was behind you, his warm breath landing on your ear as you felt his torso bulge against your back. Peter was facing you, kissing your shoulder as your breasts pressed against his chest.

You couldn't tell the time any more, whether it had been an hour or more that they were fucking you without stopping. Many orgasms had been reached, and your body was floating in this cloud of overstimulation. You were exhausted, at the end of your rope, with barely enough energy to lift your body and sink on both of their dicks buried in you.

Needing to regain your strength and rest both your thighs and your whole body, which had been in orgasmic succession, you rested for a moment, not moving as their two cocks stayed all warm in you.

"Did I say you could stop?" Miguel grunted against your back, his teeth grazing your skin as his hand rested on your thighs and squeezed your flesh between his massive fingers.

You let out a moan, your head falling back to rest in the crook of Miguel's neck.

"I can't," you breathed shakily, "it's too much."

You could feel the electricity coursing through your thighs, your body on fire, absolutely exhausted by the effort that had been required of you from the start.

"Come on sweetheart," Peter encouraged, caressing your cheek as he waited for you to continue. "You can do this."

You inhaled harshly, pressing down on your trembling thighs to rise again and continue. The knot forming in your body stretched from your lower stomach to the small of your back. The overload of sensation was heightening your sensitivity to the limit, both physically and mentally.

Your legs were tired, trying to bury yourself properly on them. One of your hands had found its place on Peter's shoulder, the other holding Miguel's thigh and allowing you to hold on better as you went back and forth.

"Is that the best you can do?" Miguel grumbled against your ear, both your faces covered in a light sheen of sweat.

One of his hands went to your hip, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushed even deeper and you let out a moan. The fatigue was getting hard to handle, all the sensations mixed together, their breaths, their voices, their words...

"If you can't do it right, I'll find someone who can".

This sentence stung you in the chest. All you were doing was trying to do your best for them, to make them feel good and have your share in it too. Were you really that incapable? Were you so incompetent that you didn't do anything for them? Were you really that useless?

"Watch your mouth," Peter warned, not necessarily condoning the crude words his partner had just uttered.

But it was too late, your heart clenched, your throat constricted as a ball formed in it. Your eyes burned, you would have preferred not to cry, but your nose stung so much in your abstinence that you ended up breaking. When the tears came, you lowered your head against Peter's shoulder, and they flowed hard and committed.

"Hey what's that," he said, feeling beads running down his skin that he knew wasn't sweat.

You didn't dare look at them, your hips still moving, your shame and discouragement oppressing your chest.

"Look at me," he asked softly as his hand came to rest on your cheek.

You looked up, your eyes unable to find his. But he placed his index finger like a hook under your chin to raise it, and your wet eyes met his.

"Oh no," he said, mouth half open, "bunny, are you crying?"

You immediately felt Miguel tense up, his hand suddenly much softer against your skin.

"What?" he asked, gently sliding his hand over your jaw in the hope of turning you towards him and seeing your face.

But you pulled away from his touch and buried your face in Peter's shoulder, not feeling strong enough to face Miguel's gaze.

"Miguel, you made her cry," Peter said, stroking your hair gently as Miguel's mouth fell open in surprise.

He hadn't realised the impact words like that could have on you, especially in this context. You had been so good to them, and you still are, their absolute dream. You are perfection itself, and Miguel would obviously never want to replace you with anyone else.

"Muñeca..." he murmured against your back as he came to kiss you tenderly, his hand caressing your hip.

Your tears were still flowing, your back shaking with little jolts of heartache and pleasure.

"Mírame," he asked gently, kissing the back of your neck.

You breathed in, lifting your wet cheeks from Peter's shoulder and turning to meet Miguel's face.

His eyes instantly became pained, pained to have been the one to cause this state. He would never, ever wish for anyone but you. He caressed your cheek, kissing the corner of your eyes and licking your wet skin.

"Please forgive me, amor," he whispered against your skin, "you know I never meant these words, right?"

Your chin trembled and Peter put his hand on your other cheek to wipe it clean.

"You're the only one we want," Miguel assured you, his eyes fixed on yours. "You're the most perfect thing that ever happened to us, and we would never want anybody else than you."

You sniffled, the sweet words he gave you pressing into your heart like a comforting balm. You loved them both so dearly, and it felt good to know that they did too.

"How are you feeling right now?" Peter asked, kissing your cheek softly.

You breathed in, still feeling the exhaustion weighing on your thighs and body.

"Like everything's too much," you managed to whisper, sniffing and swallowing.

"Do you think you can come just once more for us, nena?" Miguel asked, kissing your shoulder gently and stroking your thigh with his thumb.

The knot in your stomach was still tight, and it was almost painful not to get any relief from it.

"Mhm," you nodded as you pushed on your thighs again to raise them up.

Miguel's hands both came to grip your hip to guide you, helping you to sink and rise much more easily and sparing you a little pain in your thighs.

"You're so good for us," Peter breathed, kissing the crook of your neck lovingly, "you're doing such a good job, taking us like that."

Miguel kept pace with your hips, neither urging you on nor slowing you down. Both their warm breaths landed on your skin, whispering sweet, soft words that softened your heart and enveloped it in adoration.

Your moans began to multiply, vibrating in your throat a little more as you finally approached orgasm.

"Come for us, muñeca" encouraged Miguel.

And you came, your whole body shaking as if a bolt of lightning had struck your core and spread seismic waves of pleasure throughout its entirety.

You let your head rest against Miguel's chest, and he kissed your forehead gently.

"I knew you could do it," he whispered.

"You're our angel," Peter confirmed as he kissed your cheek.

2K notes · View notes

keisobe · 10 months

Text

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐁 (𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 + 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚) ⋮ heavily suggestive. age difference. 18+ reader. cheating. ooc. ⎯ spiderdads love having you as their little intern.

recently receiving a spider watch after a year of your debut as spider-woman in your dimension, you made it your ultimate duty to live up to the expectations of your variant superiors. your forthcoming nature and free time was open to anyone, but you found yourself always being in the radar of peter and miguel.

it would start off with innocent requests.

“hey kid, is it fine if you could grab me some coffee?” peter would smile at your enthusiastic nod and hand you his ‘number one dad’ mug. by now you know peter’s order— steaming hot coffee with powdered creamer.

“kid, transfer these files to sector 3.” miguel wouldn’t even look at you, but you still flashed a grin and began to sprint through the bustling hallway. you also learned he liked the empanadas at the cafeteria.

and in exchange of completed requests, you’ve found yourself looped into their peculiar ways to regard your work.

“good girl.” peter’s voice was hushed and deep as he sweetly patted your head, taking a careful sip of his aromatic coffee with an attractive grin. he left you a little stunned after that, or more so a blushing mess. then you watched him go back into his usual ‘i’m a proud dad’ routine and attend to mayday back in his dimension.

“gracias cari– u-umm i mean thanks… kid.” miguel uncharacteristically fumbles his words as he finally darts his ruby eyes away from the glowing, holographic screens, looking into your eyes with actual acknowledgement of your presence. his gaze was intense, a sense of longing in them. then he abruptly dismisses you, leaving you with a sense of wonder as to what just happened as you exited his lab.

it was always a special occasion when the two of them would be together.

“kiddo, you free?” peter shouted as he waved you down in the midst of you finishing a small errand for jess.

you responded with a firm nod as you sent jess a brief message on your watch. the smile you wore slightly faltered at the sight of a weirdly unreadable miguel beside peter— eyes glittering with a shade of red that you’ve never seen before. it made you feel on edge. nonetheless, you approach the two with a determined glow on your face as you let them lead you with peter filling in the awkward silence with his little quips and sarcastic comments towards miguel.

at this point, you've been working for the spider society for three months now. the teasing remarks from the other spider-people toned down and you’re finally classified as a real agent, exclusively working alongside miguel, jessica, and peter. and even through the fantastic upbringings in your life, something has been eating at you— more correctly, two people have been making your life miserably complicated.

miguel was by far the most interesting person you’ve met. his past takes a toll on him every counting day and the integral goal he based his life around is to never repeat his one mistake. although he’s very calloused and irritable, you admired his ambition and the rare moments his cold demeanor would falter to reveal a huge dork (in no other dimension have you ever seen a grown man get bullied by his own ai). as much as miguel shared a huge part of himself to you, he seemed far more content with being completely alone and devoting his life to a vow he made that day his daughter and an entire universe was wiped from existence.

peter, sarcastic and careless in nature, recently became an attentive father. it was endearing to see, considering the various stories of his depressing upbringing would make your warm lunch turn ice cold and soggy within a minute into his sulky narration (you might’ve avoided spending your lunch breaks with him afterwards). and his rekindling love with mary-jane finally gave him a sense of comfort and relief of a normal, happy family life. peter gave you a sting of hope that things will somehow turn out okay in the end. it made you feel closer to him, until you remembered that he was just sharing some old, adult wisdom to you.

and that was fine with you. you can totally push aside your small crushes for peter and miguel. one was emotionally unavailable and one was in a stable relationship with a beautiful daughter. plus they were your bosses and twice your age. so why? why is that miguel would linger a little longer whenever you announced that you’ll be going back to your dimension? why is that peter’s brown eyes would brighten up whenever you held mayday lovingly in your arms?

it didn’t help when miguel would start to call you endearing pet names with a genuine smile on his face, or when peter would situate you on his lap as he nuzzle his nose into your neck just because ‘it felt comfortable’. this conundrum made you think that you were completely losing your damn mind, that somehow you were looking too deep into the lines. but you concluded it was just all a huge misunderstanding on your part.

yeah, that’s what it was.

“you have to be quiet, okay?”

peter mumbles in the shell of ear as he clumsily discards your tight spider suit in the corner of the room while miguel makes sure that all the doors are sealed shut and locked from prying eyes.

it was normal just a few minutes ago. peter ribbing miguel with his usual dry humor, and miguel ignoring his antics to tick him off while leading you both to what you presumed to be a private conference room to discuss the important matters of anomalies.

but when the three of you nearly approach the door, peter suddenly stops talking. cautiously looking around his surroundings, peter presses himself closer and subtly grinds his hips onto the softness of your ass while miguel’s lingering hand gropes the curve of your tits— his neutral expression completely taunting your shattering composure. this is where your actual conundrum begins.

the room continued to hiss as the electric engines faintly knocked on the metal walls. the dimmed lights that made your very inappropriate circumstances much more intimate than it should be.

the chiseled arch of miguel’s cheekbones brushed the plush skin of your spread thighs, his sharp canines eagerly leaving tender marks that were reserved for only the three of you to look at. each bite and suck left you weakly whimpering his name with growing anticipation.

it was lonely back in your dimension, your bed was cold without another body to warm it up. returning back to an empty apartment would elicit forbidden thoughts— ones that held you in a heated daze until you realize you’re dumbly standing in the middle of the room and shamelessly yearning to open another portal to be in the arms of peter and miguel.

god, this was so wrong.

“aw, do you want more kid?” peter teasingly asks as his stumble scrapes along your jawline, leaving marks of his own along the junction of your neck.

miguel gazed up at your troubled expression, an amused smirk dancing along the swell of your inner thighs.

morals, pay attention to your morals.

you nodded eagerly, a force of habit after attending to the various needs of your superiors, but miguel wouldn’t take that as an answer.

“you have to tell us cariño.” miguel grumbles in between his love bites— crimson eyes glowing under the dull light.

oh well.

“yes! please, i need more.”

peter and miguel muse at your neediness, swiftly changing their positions as they propped you comfortably on a table placed in the middle of the room. you flinched from the chilling contact, but you were immediately warmed up when both men knelt down— each hooking an arm around your quivering legs and indecently displaying you as they spread your limbs. they move like they were on the same wavelength, finally agreeing on one thing.

guilt pinged in your stomach once again when peter’s wedding band brushes against your skin and miguel’s spider watch brightly flashes with pilled voice memos urgently calling for his assistance.

obviously annoyed, miguel hastily pries off the pinging watch and puts it aside while peter eagerly tucks his wedding ring in the pocket of his discarded pink robe. weirdly, their visible desperation to have their attention focused on you filled you with pride.

finally, two pairs of eyes were trained on you, sparkling with a hypnotizing red and a drunken brown. their previous notions left no ounce of guilt, instead it made them hyper focused with lust.

“don’t worry querida,” miguel gruffly murmurs as he snags your underwear with a sharp finger. “peter and i will take good care of you.”

“but don’t tell anyone kiddo.” peter cuts in, a subtle grin on his face but through his playful tone, he was dead serious.

you compliantly nodded.

of course, you won’t tell a single soul.

2K notes · View notes

joonie-beanie · 10 months

Text

Side-Gig | [Peter B. Parker x Reader]

Pairing: Peter B. Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter gets worried about your apparent “side-gig” and goes snooping, only to discover your side-gig is writing Spiderman smut on commission.

Contents: Fluff, Smut, Consensual Sex, Pussy Eating, Banter, Friends to Lovers???

Author’s Note: I swore off posting fics on tumblr, but since this is just a one-shot, I figured why not. I think Peter B is charming, had to write a lil smth smth for him. And by that, I mean a 7.1k wordcount fic.

You and Peter Parker are friends. Not best friends, but pretty good friends.

You like to say you’ve looked out for each other over the years. You don’t talk all the time, but it’s kind of an unspoken promise that when one of you needs someone to lean on, the other person will be there.

Which is why, when Peter and MJ separate, you make a point of inviting Peter over for meals.

At first, he turns you down every time you ask, and you know it’s because he’s wallowing—depressed about his situation. And that’s understandable. You can’t exactly say you know what he’s feeling, but if you put yourself in his shoes, you’re sure you’d be a little bit fucked up about everything too.

Therefore, you give him a little space—wait for things to settle and for Peter to come around.

Except, Peter takes it all way worse than you expect—going radio silent after your third invite in two months. Then, you really start to get worried (and also a little mad that he’s ghosting you).

So, you manage to scrounge up his new address using some internet-sleuthing skills, and show up at his door. When he opens it, he’s dressed in a greasy wife-beater, worn-out gray sweats, and white socks with a hole in the toe.

“Jesus Christ, Peter.”

You spend that evening scolding Peter and letting him cry it all out—handing him tissue after tissue as he blubbers about everything on his mind. When he’s finally done, he apologizes for ignoring your last call, and thanks you for looking out for him.

With a smile, you assure him you’ll always have his back, and that now he really has to come over for dinner, because he owes you.

Laughing, Peter agrees. And luckily, he sticks to his word.

Since then, you and Peter make a point of doing dinner twice a month—typically at your place, sometimes out at a restaurant, but never at Peter’s. Not until he deep cleans his messy apartment, and you know that won’t be happening anytime soon.

Tonight, you’re at a restaurant of your choice—a local Italian joint. Peter arrives late, per normal, and you wave him over when you see him walk in the front door. He immediately spots you and hurries over, his eyes darting to the plate of bruschetta you’d ordered for the table, that now only has two pieces left.

“Aw, that’s not fair,” he says, sliding into the booth across from you. He immediately reaches for one, shoving it into his mouth. You shrug, not sorry.

“That’s what you get for always being late. And if I waited for you, I’d be hangry by now. So really, you should be thanking me.”

“Uh-huh,” Peter says with a roll of his eyes, picking up the menu to see what it is he wants.

“So, how have you been? I know we just saw each other two weeks ago, but—how’s work?”

You sigh at Peter’s question, resting your chin against your palm.

“Fine, I guess. Work is cutting hours since things are slow right now, so I’m gonna be pretty strapped for cash the next month or two.”

Peter blinks at your response, staring at you over the edge of the menu.

“Should we be here then? We could just get the check now and go down the street to the bodega—”

“No—no, it’s fine,” you reassure him, taking a sip from your glass. From the look of it, Peter can tell the glass is filled with rum and coke—your simple, yet timeless go-to.

“This is kind of my last hurrah, y’know? Gotta get one last plate of carbonara in before I’m eating ramen and eggs for the next few months.”

“I dunno about that,” Peter responds. “Eggs are pretty expensive now—you might have to settle for canned tuna.”

You roll your eyes at him, yet can’t help the little giggle that escapes you.

“You’re the worst.”

“I know,” he says with a smile.

The waitress wanders back over, and you and Peter put in your orders. Peter also opts to get a drink (after all, if you’re drinking, why shouldn’t he), and a few minutes later, a cosmopolitan is placed onto the table in front of him.

You watch him with a wide smile as he picks up the girly drink and takes a long sip—his pinky sticking out and everything.

“You and your love of sweet drinks,” you say, swirling around the ice in your half-empty glass. Peter hums happily.

“Listen, this is way better than beer.”

Honestly, you can’t disagree.

“So,” he continues, picking up the previous topic. “Are you gonna be okay? Money-wise?”

It’s not like he has much help to offer. Being a masked vigilante doesn’t pay very well, after all, but still.

“Yeah,” you assure him. “I have a side-gig that brings in a little cash-flow, so that’ll help cushion the blow. But I think I should still be able to afford rent and some groceries. I’ll just have to budget better, y’know?”

Peter nods. “Oh, okay. Good—,” but then his brain repeats the phrase “side-gig”, and his words cut off.

“Wait, what kind of side-gig are we talking about here?”

Despite how long the two of you have known each other, Peter has never heard anything about any kind of “side-gig”. It’s a little concerning, honestly, since the two of you don’t really keep secrets from each other.

Although it’s not like you know he’s Spiderman.

“Yeah. It’s nothing illegal, I promise,” you tell him, your attitude remaining pleasant. Peter stares at you, waiting for you to say more, but your smile only grows wider.

“Not telling,” you say, laughing quietly to yourself when Peter huffs in annoyance and grabs his drink. “You’ll just have to trust me. I’d never do anything illegal—you know me.”

“I dunno,” he responds, a playful lilt in his tone. “In college I seem to remember you stealing soft drinks from the mess hall without paying—”

“Oh c’mon,” you shoot back, and Peter grins, knowing you hate when he brings that up. “We were already paying to go to classes! Why should I pay 3 dollars for a cup of watered down coke?!”

Peter laughs as you go on a mini tangent about how college is a ripoff—ordering both you and him two more drinks when your waitress stops in to check on your table.

After a short while, your food comes out, and the two of you catch up over the hot meal. Conversation flows like normal—touching on any other life updates, and also local news topics, and things of the like.

At your insistence, Peter splits a tiramisu with you to close out the evening, and by the time the dessert is gone, Peter thinks he may explode.

“Ugh, why did I let you talk me into that?” Peter groans, curling over and holding his stomach as you fetch enough cash from his wallet to cover half the bill.

“Well, if you were smart like me, you would have kept half of your entree to take home with you for later, and then you would have had enough room left for dessert. Which, by the way, is too good to waste—so don’t puke it up.”

Your waitress swings by to grab the bill, and you assure her it’s all set—passing her the small stack of money taken from both your and Peter’s wallets. She thanks you with a smile, and then scurries away, leaving the two of you alone.

You reach over the table, patting Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ll be fine. Your stomachs gotten bigger, after all.”

“Hey—,” Peter frowns, lifting his head. You’re already grabbing your purse and takeout box—sliding out of the booth. He quickly follows after you.

“Are you calling me fat?”

“No,” you respond, holding the door open for him as the two of you step out into the cool New York air. “You’re actually still surprisingly in-shape for someone whose diet consists of pizza and frozen meals. But, that being said, you can’t deny you’ve put on a few pounds.”

Peter places a hand on his stomach.

“Remind me again why you’re so mean to me?”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound getting lost in the crowd around you.

“You just make it too easy,” you admit, grinning up at him. Despite himself, Peter smiles back.

Being the gentleman that he is, Peter fully intends to escort you back to the doorstep of your apartment building, but—

His spidey senses tingle, and he can tell something is off.

“Hey, um,” Peter grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. Before your brain can even catch up, he’s yanking you into a quick hug, and then backpedaling towards the alleyway the two of you had just passed.

“Sorry, I just remembered there’s something I have to do. It was nice seeing you! Let’s touch base soon!”

He’s gone before you can even get a word out, disappearing around the corner. You stare after him for a moment, befuddled, and then continue on your way with a sigh.

Same ‘ol Peter.

Exactly one hour later, Peter collapses in a pile of trash—his lungs heaving, and body aching. The fight itself hadn’t been that hard—just a few wannabe criminals with deadlier than normal weapons.

No, the real challenge had been not barfing up his dinner while doing acrobatics across the city.

And maybe laying in a pile of trash to take a breather isn’t exactly helping his current predicament, but fuck—he doesn’t have the energy to move right now

Spreading out his limbs, Peter stares up at the smog-coated night sky, his mind wandering. He thinks about a lot of things—all the villains he’s fought in his time as Spiderman, the people who have come in and out of his life during it all, including you. You…who apparently has a “side-gig”.

…but like, what kind of side-gig?

Peter groans, knowing he won’t be able to let this go.

You can’t just drop the knowledge that you have a secret side-gig on him and then not tell him what it is!

And if you’re insistent on keeping it a secret, it must be something bad, right? RIGHT??

“Goddammit,” he grumbles, picking himself up. He swings off into the night, his mind reeling.

Peter lasts all of 3-days before he decides he can’t be left alone with his thoughts anymore—that he just needs to confirm what exactly your side-gig is, before his theories can get any wilder.

Because so far, his top guesses are that you’re either 1. Unknowingly acting as a middle man for some illegal trafficking operation, or 2. Providing “services” to New York sleazebags to get in their wallets.

And Peter knows it’s likely neither option—you’re too smart to get roped into something stupid. Plus, you had assured him it was nothing illegal.

But if he doesn’t figure it out, he thinks he may explode.

So…he goes snooping.

It’s not his brightest moment—using the spare key you had given him “in case of emergency” to sneak into your apartment one evening. (But to be fair, to him…this might just be an emergency).

He’d used his spidey senses to scope out your apartment before coming in, so he knows you're not home. Which is good, but…he doesn’t know when you’re gonna be back either, so he has to move fast.

Softly closing the front door behind him, Peter tip-toes across your apartment, deciding to start in your bedroom. He stands in the doorway for a moment, guilt bubbling up inside of him, but he decides to push forward anyway.

He’s just making sure you’re okay, he tells himself. You’re one of his closest friends, and you won’t tell him your secret—so it’s understandable he’d be worried.

Like the true Sherlock that he is, Peter starts with you dressers. He quickly checks each drawer—gently lifting up the stacks of clothes to make sure nothing is hidden beneath them. (The only time doesn’t is when he encounters the drawer with your bras and panties. He simply stares at them with flushed cheeks, rocking awkwardly on his heels, before he quietly closes the drawer. Surely nothing would be in there anyway, right?)

The small stack of papers on your nightstand ends up being recent receipts, and a manual on how to use the white noise machine you've apparently just purchased, considering it's sitting on the floor beside your nightstand, still in the box.

Getting on his hands and knees, Peter does a quick check under your bed, and freezes when he spots a covered box. He pulls it out without thinking, tugging off the fabric lined lid—

—and immediately slams it back down.

…veiny, pink, silicon—

Peter haphazardly pushes the box back under the bed, hurrying to his feet. He bustles into the kitchen with cherry-colored ears.

All-in-all, it takes Peter about half an hour to search your apartment, and unfortunately…he comes up empty handed. It seems like you have nothing to hide (except a box of sex toys under your bed, but Peter thinks that’s pretty understandable. You don't want dumb assholes like him accidentally finding it, even though Peter had—)

Sighing, Peter takes one last glance around your apartment.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have done this,” he sighs to himself, taking a step towards the door. But—not watching where he’s going, he stubs his toe into the leg of your coffee table.

A curse leaves his lips, and your opened laptop—which had previously been dark—jolts to life. Kicking the table must have moved your wireless mouse, Peter realizes.

Having already decided to leave, Peter fully intends to continue on his way. That is…before he takes a glance at your computer screen and sees that you have it open to a Google doc titled: “Spiderman x Reader Commission #6”.

…then, he’s scrambling onto your couch and yanking your laptop towards him.

“Number six??” he hisses dramatically, his eyes scanning over the document so fast that he doesn’t actually end up reading anything.

He has to pause and go back to try again, but the second Peter reads the sentence “Spiderman’s cock strains painfully against the tight confines of his suit, his fingers twitching against your waist as he drags you in closer”, his brain effectively blue screens.

In a panic, he clicks into a different tab that’s open—landing on your email inbox, where a thread sits open. A transaction between you and an apparent “customer”. Someone who had contacted you in regards to your open “commissions”.

Hi there!

I saw you’re accepting commissions, and I really enjoyed reading the other Spiderman fics you wrote! Would you be open to writing one for me? Preferably a Reader x Spiderman, and a smut/fluff genre. Based on the rate sheet, I think I can afford it, but I’d appreciate it if we could talk more and discuss the final price based on the idea I have.

Thanks!

Holy shit, Peter realizes. Your side-gig is writing Spiderman porn on commission.

He sinks back into the couch, his mind whirling.

How long has this been going on?? Do you…are you attracted to Spiderman?? As long as Peter has known you, you’ve never really fangirled over Spiderman. If Spiderman had popped up in the news, the two of you would talk about him, but…that was it.

And now you’re writing Spiderman smut for cash? Holy hell.

Peter supposes he should be relieved that what you’re doing truly isn’t illegal. That you’re just making money in a mostly innocent way, from the safety of your home. Meaning, Peter can call it quits, and leave.

…but instead, he leans forward, clicks back onto the Google doc tab, and starts reading more.

The document is still a work-in-progress, but Peter scrolls back up to the top, wanting to see how you’ve managed to set up this scenario.

As it turns out, a villain had injected Spiderman with some sort of aphrodisiac, and the reader is a bystander, bravely offering Spiderman her services to get him out of this pickle.

While embarrassing to admit, Peter gets sucked into the story—impressed by your ability to write, and your portrayal of him—err, Spiderman. In fact, he gets so distracted by the story and the multitude of thoughts running through his head that his spidey senses don’t kick in until danger is right on his doorstep.

Or, in reality, you are on your doorstep—your key shoving into the lock on the door.

Peter’s heart nearly rockets out of his chest, his eyes darting to the window across the room. It’s closed, and even if he used his web shooter to rocket over to it, he wouldn’t be able to safely open the window and escape outside in the two seconds it’s going to take you to finish unlocking your do—

Before he can even finish the thought, your front door shoves open, and you flick on the lights—your gaze immediately finding Peter, who is still firmly planted on your couch, looking like a deer in headlights.

You stare at him in shock.

“Peter? What…? Why are you here?”

“I was…worried about you,” Peter responds, forcing himself to smile. And it’s not like it’s a lie.

“You said you were strapped for cash, and I…I just wanted to make sure everything was okay.”

You kick the door shut behind you, your purse and keys discarded on the small table beside your entryway.

“I thought I told you to just trust me?”

You face him with a hand posed sternly on your hip. You appreciate his concern for you, but it’s a little upsetting that he hadn’t just been able to trust your word.

“I know,” Peter responds with a sigh. He runs a hand through his graying hair, and your gaze flits to his ears, noticing how red they are. Why is he so flushed?

“And I’m sorry. I’m dumb, I should have. Trusted you, I mean. I’ll just—,” he pushes himself up, planning to excuse himself and run, but freezes half way to his feet.

He’s half hard. Fuck.

If he gets up now, it’ll be a lot harder to hide that—especially since he’s wearing sweatpants.

Making a lil noise, Peter eases himself back down onto your couch. You cock an eyebrow.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry…back spasm.”

“Well, you don’t have to rush out. You’re welcome to stay for a while if you don’t have anywhere to be.”

You flash him a smile and turn towards the kitchen. Peter watches you as you open your fridge and bend down—fetching two bottles of water from the bottom shelf. His eyes glue to your ass the second you lean over, and Peter punches himself in the knee—forcing his gaze up towards the ceiling.

He’s going fucking insane. He’s not used to being this…feral feeling. Arousal is usually one of the emotions that evades him nowadays, but here he is—done in by fucking Spiderman fanfiction.

Who knew he’d get turned on reading about himself fucking some nameless woman? And who knew that arousal would make him thirst after you?

(Honestly, if he thinks about it, it’s not that surprising. The two of you have been friends for years, and he feels comfortable around you. Not to mention, you’ve always been attractive, even if you do like to push his buttons—)

“Here,” you say, snapping him out of his internal panic. You plop down onto the couch next to him, handing him one of the two bottles of water.

Peter reaches out to take it, and you notice the sweat beading on his brow. Why the hell is he—?

At that moment, you spot your laptop on the coffee table—open, and still showing the commission document you’d left open earlier on. Your first instinct is to reach over and slam your laptop shut before Peter can see—

…wait.

Peter reaches forward to take the water bottle from your grasp, but when he grips it, you don’t budge.

Confused, he looks up—only to find you intensely staring at him.

“Did you read it…?”

Peter’s face heats up, his eyes darting to the side to avoid looking at you.

Busted…

You pulse races, embarrassment blooming in your chest.

HE DID, you realize. HE READ IT. Your fucking Spiderman smut!

“Ah, shit…,” you mumble, letting go of his water bottle and crumpling in on yourself. You curl onto your side, hiding your face in the couch cushion.

Feeling horrible that he has embarrassed you—having discovered something you’d tried to keep private—Peter hurries to try and smooth over the situation.

“Okay, yes, I did read it,” he starts by saying. “But…it was…really good! You’re a good writer, and I can see why people are commissioning you! You’ll surely make some cash with the skill you have.”

If he was smart, he’d have stopped there, but no—Peter keeps going.

“A-And hey! I’d be willing to help too. Y’know, help give you some inspiration for your stories—”

His voice dies in his throat, realizing what it is he has just offered. And obviously, you realize it too—your head immediately lifting, staring at him with curious surprise.

“Did you just…offer…to fuck? To help me with my stories?”

The insinuation is so insane that you can’t help laughing. Peter coughs, straightening his shoulders out.

“I think I’d be very good inspiration for Spiderman.”

“Really?”

There’s disbelief in your voice. Peter narrows his eyes.

“You don’t think so?”

You hum, uncapping your water bottle and taking a swig. Peter mirrors you, his throat feeling dry.

“Spiderman is…suave and heroic, and you’re…dorky. Smart, but dorky.”

Peter frowns. “I can be…suave.”

You cock an eyebrow, a playful grin breaking out on your face. Your heart is racing a million miles an hour, because never did you think you’d be sitting here with Peter, the possibility of sex between the two of you suddenly laid out on the table. You’d never deny he’s an attractive male, and maybe because it’s him, and because you’ve missed the feel of another human being, you end up saying—

“Yeah? Show me then.”

You lean back, waiting to see if Peter will make a move.

Unfortunately, the realization that you’re open to whatever is happening right now causes Peter’s brain to stall, and he takes a second too long to act—just long enough to allow doubt to worm its way into your head.

You’re putting him on the spot. And he’s still probably dealing with some complicated feelings from the split—you shouldn’t have poked him.

Without saying anything, you decide to try and create some space. You push off of the couch, padding towards your bedroom. You’ll make an excuse about needing to fold your clothes, or something stupid—and hopefully Peter will take what you’ve said as a joke, and will move on. Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan—

Pausing in the doorway of your room, you force yourself to smile, and turn to face Peter—only to find that he’d snuck up on you—your gaze meeting his chest the second you turn around.

“Pe—,” you’re only able to get the first syllable of his name out, your chin tilting back as you look up at him. The feeling of his palm cupping your cheek is what makes your voice die out, his chestnut eyes boring into you.

You can see the hesitation on his face. A certain lack of confidence that you’re sure stems from his past relationship issues. But beneath that, you can see desire. A craving for intimacy he hasn’t shared in a long time.

You decide to be the one to close the gap—pressing onto your toes, your palm resting flat on his pec as you lean upward—connecting your lips with his. You can feel his heart racing beneath your fingertips, and you silently convince yourself that if Peter backs out, you’ll be fine with it.

Luckily, he doesn’t. His brain finally kicks into gear, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he kisses you back.

You make a pleasantly surprised little sound, your arms lifting to wrap around his neck—effectively deepening the kiss. A wrinkle appears between Peter’s eyebrows, his grip on your waist tightening. Your chest presses flat against his torso, and he rubs his thumb against your cheek, obsessed with the plushness of your lips and the feel of you against him.

It’s been way too long since he’s been intimate like this…that’s apparent by the blood absolutely rockets into his dick.

Although, to be fair, he’d already been half-hard before this.

“You think our local hero gets hard this quick?” you mumble against his lips with a grin, giggling when Peter makes a noise of annoyance and nips at you.

“You’d be surprised,” he responds. He slots his thigh between your knees, backing you into the doorframe. His clothed cock grinds against your stomach, trapped between your bodies, and his muscles tense.

“Adrenaline can go straight to the dick sometimes…”

(Peter has lost track of how many times, after an intense fight—especially earlier in his career—he’d swung home and immediately jerked off).

“That’s fair, I suppose.”

Your fingertips coast up the nape of his neck, tangling in the messy hair at the base of his skull. You yank him downward ever so slightly, your lips connecting with the skin of his neck. He immediately shivers, the first of many embarrassing sounds ripping from his chest as you lick and suck at his flesh.

“Think Spiderman whimpers?”

You’re teasing him. As to be expected, given the dynamic of your relationship. But Peter doesn’t intend on taking it quietly.

“Maybe,” he admits, “If you make him feel good enough. But if you wanna know what I think—”

Peter surprises you by ducking down—his arms looping around your thighs as he lifts you off the floor. Your squeal, arms and legs instinctively wrapping around him since you don’t want to fall, but Peter carries you easily enough—striding into your room and depositing you onto your bed.

He doesn’t waste any time—quickly caging you down. His knee reclaims its spot between your thighs, rubbing incessantly at the dampening fabric covering your privates, and his lips find your neck—a shiver raking up your spine as his stubble scratches against your skin.

“Peter,” you gasp when his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt. His fingertips ghost over your heated skin, brushing past your waist, and finding the clasp of your bra. You have to arch to give him room to work, and Peter sucks a hickey of approval into your neck. He debates telling you “good girl”, but the thought leaves him the second your bra pops open.

He needs your tits in his mouth.

“—I think Spiderman has a thing for boobs,” Peter says, finally finishing his earlier statement. This exclamation is followed with the immediate removal of your shirt and bra—Peter forcibly tugging them over your head and discarding them on the floor beside your bed.

The sight of Peter groping you and lowering his mouth to your chest is enough to have your heart skipping a beat, and you can’t help the mewl that leaves you when Peter sucks one of your nipples into his mouth.

Peter groans when your fingers fist in his hair, practically keeping his mouth trapped where it is, which he hardly minds considering he intends to lick and suck at your tits until you’re panting.

And, that’s exactly what he does.

He lavishes your chest with his mouth—relishing in the way your hips jump at each little nip of his teeth or roll of your nipple between his fingers. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how wet it gets you—your panties feeling quite wet as you continue grinding your pussy against Peter’s thigh.

You try and think of some smart response in regard to Peter’s opinion that Spiderman is a tit man, not an ass man, but words seem to be avoiding you. You can’t think of anything coherently when Peter is touching you like this. Especially when his face finally leaves your chest, his lips peppering kisses down the length of your torso.

You lift your head to look at him, propping up on one of your arms. Peter reaches your navel, but doesn’t stop, heading towards—

“Peter,” you pant, your face flushing hotly as you realize the path he’s carving.

Peter hums, his eyes flitting up and meeting your gaze just as he hooks his thumbs beneath the band of your pants.

“Another thing about Spiderman…,” he begins, kissing the skin of your tummy as he inches your waistband down your hips. You watch him with blown-wide eyes, chest rising and falling rapidly—excitement and nervousness mingling inside of you.

You lift your ass off the mattress to help him shuck you of your bottoms, and Peter smiles, tossing your pants on the floor beside your other clothes.

Never in your life did you imagine the sight of Peter sinking to his knees, his hands gripping your hips and dragging you closer to him—his gaze falling between your legs. Your panties are soaked, and the sight causes more blood to rush into his dick. He’s so hard that it honestly hurts—just a little bit—but Peter still doesn’t touch himself, because—

“...Spiderman loves eating pussy.”

“He’s a people-pleaser,” you quip breathlessly, your thighs quivering in Peter’s hold when he presses a kiss to your skin, right beside your panty line. He quietly chuckles.

“Maybe.”

Peter thumbs at your clit through your panties, relishing in the whine he rips from your throat. You hips buck in his hold, craving more, and when Peter sees the desperate look on your face, he decides to not tease you.

Peeling your panties to the side, Peter finally connects his mouth with your pussy—his tongue licking a wet, broad strip between your folds.

Oh, shit, you think to yourself, the muscles in your abdomen convulsing as you watch one of your closest friends eat you out. The whole situation is making you feel light headed, so you can’t help it when you collapse back onto the mattress, your fingers fisting in the sheets as Peter groans into your cunt.

He eats you like a man starved, his face quickly becoming covered with your arousal. His nose bumps against your clit as his tongue sinks between your walls, and you full out whimper—your hips needily grinding against his mouth.

Peter’s palm presses down on your pelvis, forcing your hips to the mattress. He doesn’t want you squirming—just wants you desperate and pliant. To see you cumming on his tongue.

His name falls from your lips again, more debauched than he’s ever heard, and Peter curses.

“Shit.”

His tone is guttural, and sexy, and—

He presses a finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, Pete—,” his name deterorates into a moan, your brain function declining as Peter begins fucking his finger inside of you. At the same time, he focuses his mouth on your clit, his tongue urgently flicking against the bundle of nerves.

You unconsciously wriggle at the assault of stimulation, but Peter’s hand on your stomach keeps you in place.

Why is he so strong? You think to yourself, moan ripping from your chest as Peter slips in a second finger. It doesn’t take him long to locate that spongy little sweet spot inside of you. The one that causes your thighs to shake as he practically abuses it—rubbing the pads of his fingers against it repeatedly until you’re nearly sobbing.

The coil in your belly winds tight, heat searing your veins. You can feel your clit throbbing against Peter’s tongue, and the walls of your pussy tightening up around him.

“Peter,” you cry, your entire body trembling. You’re so fucking close.

“Cum,” he rasps. He needs to see you orgasm—needs to feel you unraveling on his mouth and fingers.

Hearing the gravel of his voice is the final nail in your coffin—the tension in your muscles releasing as your orgasm washes over you. Just as he wanted, you cum all over him, your cunt gushing arousal around his fingers as his tongue continues lapping at your clit, dragging out the waves of your pleasure until you’re panting and pawing at his head, trying to push him away.

After a moment, he relents—sitting back to look at you.

You’re covered in a sheen of sweat, your chest heaving, and an arm draped over your eyes. Your tits are peppered with an array of hickies, and Peter feels his chest (and cock) swell with pride. He’s clearly done a number on you. And yet…

You feel the mattress dip, and then the room is spinning around you. When things finally settle, you find yourself laying on top of Peter.

He has one arm wrapped around your waist, his palm resting on your ass. The other brushes a few stray strands of hair out of your face when you lean back to look at him.

“Spiderman also loves being ridden,” he says with a grin. You place your hands on his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as he watches you struggle to sit up.

“You think I have the energy to ride you after you just did that? And why do you keep saying Spiderman enjoys these things like they’re facts—you don’t know.”

“Just a feeling,” he responds, licking his lips. His hands find your hips, and he grinds you downwards. Your sensitive pussy rubs against his aching length, still trapped behind his sweatpants, and it’s hard to miss the way Peter harshly swallows at the feeling.

You sigh, scooting backwards.

“Fine.”

You shove his sweats and boxers down his thighs, careful to not snag them on his dick. And damn, he really must be aching—a sticky string of precum dripping from the head of his cock, and pooling on his abdomen.

He opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to say anything. Your fingers wrap around his cock, smearing his arousal across his length, and whatever Peter had been planning to say crumbles into a needy garble of non-words.

You can’t help but smile at the sound.

“Surprised you didn’t cream your pants already,” you tell him, but your tone is hardly teasing. No, seeing him beneath you like this—the muscles in his torso clenching with every stroke of your hand—it’s actually quite endearing.

“I’ll cum in your hand if you keep doing that,” he pants, glancing into your eyes. You spot nothing but lust there, any previous reservations gone.

“Is that so bad?” you ask, thumbing at the head of his cock. Peter’s grip on your waist tightens, and you hear him take a shaky breath.

“Yes.”

He wants to be inside you, that much is clear. And while it’d be so easy to draw it out and make him beg…you don’t feel like being mean to him. Not tonight, after he’d just given you the best oral of your life.

“Fine,” you relinquish. You scoot forward, planting one hand on his chest, and gripping the base of his cock with the other. Peter’s breath catches when you rub the head of his cock between your folds, a heady groan following a beat later as you begin sinking down onto him.

By the time his cock is fully inside of you, your thighs are shaking. Whether from the lack of energy due to your previous orgasm, the remarkable size of Peter inside of you, or both—you’re not totally sure.

“There’s no rush,” Peter reassures you, but the needy warble of his voice betrays his words.

“My legs might give out at some point,” you respond with a breathless laugh, and Peter echos you, giving your waist a squeeze.

“That’s fine. I’ll help.”

With your palms planted firmly on his chest, you begin to ride him.

And god, you feel so fucking good.

“Fuck,” Peter bites out, watching the space between your bodies, where his cock disappears inside of you with every roll of your hips. It’s been ages since a cunt has squeezed his dick like this, and honestly, he can see himself very easily getting addicted to the feel of you.

The bounce of your tits as you ride him, the cute little sounds you make when his cock rubs against the sensitive spots inside you—he feels like he’s going crazy.

“Peter,” you whine, your pace flattering. Having his cock inside of you is incomparable to the feeling of his fingers, and very quickly, you can feel another orgasm building, but…the closer you get, the more your strength falters.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he responds, praises falling from his lips. “You’re doing so good. You feel so good.”

His words cause your walls to clench around him, and he groans—his hands sliding down to your hips as he helps rock you down onto his cock. The sloppy sound of sex fills your bedroom, and you watch Peter with half-lidded eyes, soaking up the desperation showing on his face.

His hair is slicked back with sweat, brows pinched together in concentration as he forces you to continue riding him. At least, until he starts craving more.

With his orgasm quickly approaching—despite the immense pleasure he gains seeing you bouncing on top of him—Peter’s hunger gets the best of him.

He grabs your wrists, moves your arms so they’re wrapped around his shoulders, and then secures his arms around your back. Before you can even digest the slight change in position, Peter is fucking you.

An incoherent string of noise slips past your lips, your fingernails digging into his shoulders as his cock pistons inside of you. With his arms trapping you against his chest, you’re helpless but to take it—your orgasm rushing to the surface at the desperate yet brutal pace that Peter sets.

“Peter,” you sob into his neck.

“It’s okay,” he responds without missing a beat, his voice breathless. “I’m right there. Cum for me again, sweetheart.”

As if you could stop.

Holding onto him for dear life, you cum for the second time that night—your walls clamping down on his cock so tightly that Peter’s rhythm falters. A curse rips from his throat, and his hands find the plush of your ass—stuffing your body down onto his dick as he cums along with you—pumping you full of his seed.

The needy tension of the room melts away, and you and Peter can only lay there—a pile of sweaty yet sated flesh. It takes you both a minute to catch your breaths, and you make a quiet noise of disappointment when Peter’s cock slips out of you.

You can feel his cum running out of your pussy.

“Your balls aren’t dried up yet?”

Peter’s chest rumbles beneath you.

“I’m in my 30’s, not my 60’s.”

You glance up at him when you feel Peter’s fingers clearing the hair away from your face, and he smiles at you. Your heart jumps.

He must know how handsome he is, right? Even with that crooked nose of his.

“Don’t you ever get tired of taking cracks at me?” he wonders, using his grip on your ass to slide you farther up his chest. You giggle, cupping his cheeks as you find yourself suddenly face to face with him.

“Mmmm, no?”

He rolls his eyes, yet his smile widens. You lean down to kiss him, and he reciprocates easily enough.

“Feeling good?” you ask him, carding your fingers through his hair. He nods.

“Very. I…really missed that.”

“Same,” you agree, sitting back. You need to get to the bathroom before any cum gets on your nice sheets. You crawl off of Peter, swinging your legs over the side of your mattress. He rolls onto his side, watching you with furrowed brows as he tucks his dick back into his pants.

“Same? You haven’t—?”

“Not in a while,” you admit, pulling a fresh shirt and a pair of panties from your dresser drawers. You’re about to make a joke that the only action you’ve gotten recently is from the toys stashed under your bed, but when you turn to look at the spot where they’re hidden, you find that…the box has moved. It’s not where you had left it.

“Did you…find my sex toys? Before I came home?”

Peter’s face goes carefully blank, but the red flush of his ears betrays him.

You shoot him a glare, leaving your room with a huff.

“Dude doesn’t trust me…how fucking rude…”

“Hey now—!”

Peter’s feet pound against the floor as he chases after you, and he catches you around the waist just before you make it into your bathroom. His lips press against the crown of your head.

“Again, I’m sorry for snooping. I’m dumb.”

You sigh, wriggling around to face him.

“You are,” you agree, lightly patting his chest. “Dumb, and insistent that Spider man loves tits, eating pussy, and getting ridden. Still holding those beliefs?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter grins. “And I have other beliefs about his preferences as well.”

“Of course you do,” you laugh. You kiss his cheek, and then step out of his hold—heading into the bathroom.

“I’m going to shower,” you tell him. “There’s some leftovers in the fridge if you want any.”

Peter nods, and the last thing you see is him heading for your fridge when you close the bathroom door.

30 minutes later, you exit your steaming bathroom in your fresh oversized t-shirt and panties, fully expecting to find Peter lounging around your apartment, eating all your food. But…to your utter disappointment, you don’t spot him anywhere.

You sigh, shoulders sagging. Had it been too much to assume he would have wanted to stay the night?

Shuffling into your kitchen, you spot an empty plate on your table. One that you know had previously been piled high with leftover chicken and potatoes.

“He eats my food and runs off…of course,” you mumble, picking up the plate to put it in the sink. However, before your annoyance can truly get the better of you, a piece of paper that had been stuck to the bottom of the plate floats to the ground.

You bend over to pick it up.

Hey!

Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to stay so long, so I left my apartment earlier without locking the door. I’m running back home to lock it, but I should be back at your place by 9!

Don’t get mad at me. I’d never run off without a word :p

-PB

PS. I have a working theory that Spiderman also has more stamina than you’d expect, even for a guy who’s been doing hero work for 20+ years, so…round two when I get back?

You can’t help but laugh.

What an idiot.

But…you like him.

#peter b parker x reader #peter b parker smut #peter b parker #i can't believe I'm posting this on tumblr #immediately going back to only posting on AO3 bc it's so much easier to format LMAO #fic #reader insert #reader x peter b parker #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n

1K notes · View notes

crimsonbubble · 7 months

Note

no cause i'm actually horrendously down bad for peter b parker, and it's SICK cause i know he probably looks drunk when he's eating it, just like there's no thoughts behind those eyes of his other than your pussy, just tonguefucking you into overstimulation and even when you try to pull away, he keeps a firm grip on you, pulls you right back. when you try to push his head away, he's got both your wrists either in his hands or webbed above you and just keeps going. he'd have you there for what feels like hours, cause peter is such a giver and he just wants to give you as many orgasms as he can and he knows you can take it, in spite of all that whining and crying and pleading for just a small break, he's gonna take care of his little hunbun

cw. nsfw. afab!reader, oral, peter being absolutely pussy drunk, fingering, improper use of webs (?), praise bc yes *not proofread, just pure horny

[NONNIE IM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT BUT HERE YOU GOOO] @smmy-winchster @hannas16 @ladymoztaza @flowerloves @mehidontknkw

MINORS DNI!!

no bc you're so fucking right

it's unfair that his stupidly handsome face isn't between my thighs rn

anyways-

he's a whore for seeing you tied up

with that being said, he'll web your wrists up against the headboard

so he can hold your hips down on the bed and practically bury his face in your cunt

like he's fucking you open on his tongue, grinding his nose against your swollen clit, and moaning like whore as you buck your hips against his face

if his mouth isn't suctioned to your pussy, then his fingers are curling up into your g-spot and he's blabbering anything that he can think of

he'll suck your sweet clit into his mouth just to feel your hole clench and flutter around his fingers

literally can't help but praise you

god he's so fucking in love with you

"you taste so fuckin' good, sweetheart."

"yea, just like that baby."

"make a mess for me, honey."

"you're so fucking sweet, baby. all for me, yea?"

"atta girl, being so fucking good for me."

"good fuckin' girl. you can take it."

"just one for me yea. pretty girl?"

it's never just 'one more' tho

he gets so drunk, so easily off the sound, taste, and feel of you under his hands and tongue

he's always hungry for you and his hunger is always insatiable

also loves to make out with you

not caring for the fact that the lower half of his face is drenched in your juices and that there's now a mess of white in his boxers

#bubbly speaks <3 #ash answers #bubbly writes <3 #peter parker #peter b parker #peter b parker smut #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n #peter b parker x reader smut #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x y/n #spiderverse smut

342 notes · View notes

miguelswifey04 · 9 months

Text

dbf! peter b. parker headcanons

dbf! peter, had always admired you from a far and always had been trying to get at you ever since you turned into a fine young woman under his eyes. he hated to admit it to himself but he really is captivated by his best friend’s daughter, you. you’re something he has ever wanted in a woman and well, to him age is just a number.

dbf! peter who tries to sweet talk you whenever he’s around you. he’d get real up close to you, towering over you, and compliment you while at the same time diffusing them with his corny jokes. he’s a goofball but it’s something you’d always liked about your dad’s best friend. of course, you’d look up to him as an uncle but once you entered adulthood you started to look at him differently.

dbf! peter who gets a bit jealous when you talk about hot college boys you’ve liked or hooked up with. he thinks to himself he can do so much better than they could ever and show you a good time. he wanted to have you for himself first but he’d make sure that the second you’d fall for him he’s gonna make you feel like you’re on top of the world.

dbf! peter who hugs you really tightly and rests his chin on your hair so that he could relish in the sweet perfume that you decided to wear for a function. he wish he could take you on right there and there but he had to repress his urges. to him you always looked gorgeous no matter what you were wearing or how’d you think you looked.

dbf! peter who holds your waist and says “excuse me, sweetheart,” whenever he’s passing through behind you. it really made you swoon and feel some type of way for him. when you meet his eyes he winks at you and walks off. that made you follow him, grabbing onto his arm telling him “what was that for?” with curiosity and a slight twinge of desire. he’d lie saying it was for him to pass through without having to ‘move’ you out the way but you know he did it on purpose.

dbf! peter who tells you he can’t hold those feelings he’s been harboring for you so he pulls you into the guest’s bathroom while everyone, including your dad is in the backyard. “i can’t keep pretending that i don’t have feelings for you. you make me unbelievably weak in the knees for you.” you teased him and told him to kiss you right there and then and he did.

dbf! peter who clasps a hand over your mouth as he yanks down your skirt and panties, and pushed himself into your dripping core. “that’s it, you’re such a good girl for me honey.” he fucks himself into you finally getting off and releasing all his pent up desire he had been repressing for so long. he’s definitely fucking you for a couple rounds until he’s completely spent and has emptied himself inside of you. he fucks his cum into you with his long lanky fingers that make your whimper and squirm upon feeling his fingers protrude inside you.

dbf! peter who tells you to keep a secret and to not tell anyone. of course you’d never tell anymore and pretend like he just didn’t fuck the shit out of you..over the past couple of weeks since the function, he has been become more physical affectionate and spoils you to no end once he sees you feel the same for him.

tags 🏷️: @kairiscorner @meeom @sabcandoit @emiemiemiii

#spiderman atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv peter b parker #peter b parker x y/n #peter benjamin parker #peter parker #peter b parker smut #peter b parker x you #older men do it better #atsv x reader #spiderman into the spiderverse #peter b parker x reader #🌱 lin writes

631 notes · View notes

cyberstrm · 10 months

Note

hii js wanted to ask for hobie and peter (u can add amybody else u want) with a shy and quiet reader, for example the reader usually whispers their thank you's, hello's, n stuff like that... And whenevrr the reader talks to them they're really... really nervous. srry if u don't get what i said this is my first time requesting. Anyways thank you and take your time :>

a/n: thanks for requesting!! i'm honoured !!

HOBIE finds your quietness and shyness odd. not bad odd, but because he's so extroverted he's unsure what to do when you're so shy, even in front of him. for a while he thought it was because of him, but when you explained that you're just a shy person, he got it. he never makes you speak up or be confident or talk when you don't want to, he loves you for you, and will happily ask for things for you in restaurants or buy things at stores for you. he holds your hand everywhere and makes sure you're okay. he finds your soft-spokenness really cute and comforting. he calls you tinkerbell, its so cute

'you alright, tink? you can just nod or shake babe'

MIGUEL honestly finds it slightly disconcerting. he's not used to quiet people, but he loves you and knows how hard it is for you to speak up. the way your voice wavers when you talk to him breaks his heart, he just wants you to be comfy around him. when he talks quieter and softer around you, it actually really helped, and he was glad he was able to make you more comfortable.

'are you okay, mi amor? haha, yes, you can hold my hand.'

PETER B is very sweet about it. he teases you a little but it's all in good fun. he always asks if you'd like him to talk for you. if you're able to speak up, he'll reward you with kisses. he's just a big sweetie.

'what? cat got your tongue? i'm just kidding, don't look at me like that,'

#spiderman into the verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #spider punk #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x y/n #peter b parker x you #x reader #x you #x y/n

1K notes · View notes

aweina · 10 months

Text

୨୧. he’s one silver fox — spiderverse. feat : miguel o’ hara + peter b. parker

when they feel insecure about their age. ( inspo ) tags gn + spidey reader. fluff. hurt / comfort. insecurities. implied age difference.

old age has gotten to peter in the worst ways possible. well, at least that’s what he thinks. persisting through a depressive episode because life sucked that badly wasn’t an easy feat, especially when they were shown through his physical appearance. a softer, bloated stomach, a permanent mark of exhaustion under his eyes, and greying roots that hair dye cannot even combat.

it’s especially worse when other people point out his aging. the first time miles called him ‘older’ and how his body was a ‘different shape’, peter didn’t really process it until he came back to his dimension and was welcomed with greasy pizza boxes and a broken bed frame.

and when it finally did, peter gazed down at the softness of his abdomen and poked it curiously. in the shower, he sheds off his mask as locks of grey and brown hair messily tickle his forehead. peter finally looked. softened wrinkles, a grey hue that showed his shaving efforts, sunken eyes — damn, he really was an old man.

but that was back then, and his darkened days became much more lighter. although his round eyes now gleamed with hope and the smile on his face was much more genuine, it wasn’t enough to make him feel confident in his own appearance. at least that’s how it was until he met you.

after encountering an aggressive anomaly, you hurriedly tended peter’s wounds at the recovery room located in the headquarters. that left peter under your care for the rest of the day, as well as your usual sweet nature.

“you know i like your hair, right?”

you petted the sides of peter’s head, the silky touch of grey hair making you smile.

peter shuffles a bit to the side, gently trying to pry your hands off his hair, only for you to scoot closer as you lightly brush off the stray strands off his face.

he sighs in defeat as he subtly gives into your touches, cursing at himself for enjoying this so much.

“kid, you know you don’t have to make me feel better.” peter mumbles shyly when you began to caress his scruffy cheeks with your thumbs.

“i’m telling the truth,” you whispered sweetly, inching closer until you straddled his thick torso. “i love everything about you.”

peter nervously gulps in response, cheeks dusted pink from your bluntness. he’s still a little shocked that someone much younger than him could even find him remotely attractive — considering the fact that he wasn’t at his prime. but you’ve always been quite different, ever since the day he met you when things were rough with his initial relationship.

starry eyed and obviously looking at him whenever peter came around. he remembered the subtle stares at his unshaven jawline, or that one time you furiously lectured the other spider-people that joked about his aging. peter couldn’t believe it, but he felt strangely confident in his own skin after so many years of believing he would never be lovable again.

“t-thanks kid,” peter nervously muttered into your ear, pulling your body closer into a warm hold. “for… liking me.”

you pouted at his response, your stomach fully pressed against his softer one.

“don’t ever be thankful for someone simply loving you.” you say with a comforting smile, nimbly fingers smoothing over his eye bags to the indented lines adorning his forehead.

the dangerous combination of your genuine affection and feathery touches made peter’s heart knock faster in his chest. how did he end up so lucky meeting you?

curiously, you tugged on the hem of his spider suit— skin clearly blotched with a flushed pink.

“wow, you’re blushing so much.” you teased with a huge grin.

peter timidly chuckled at his exposure, scratching the back of his head with one hand as the other one steadily grips your waist. for the first time, peter wasn’t equipped with his usual remarks and sarcasm — instead he was entirely unguarded and still dazed by your tenderness.

you giggled at his flustered expression until you squished his cheeks together — pink lips pursed out and slightly chapped.

“i’ll always love you peter,” you sweetly whispered against his lips. “always.”

before peter could properly work up the courage to respond to your confession, a surge of energy filled your heart as you peppered endless kisses on peter’s reddening face — the blend of your lighthearted giggles and his heartfelt chuckles filled the room.

peter never felt happier than he was with you around to make him feel loved again.

miguel could tell he was getting older. maybe it was the constant groggy feeling he would get from every waking moment of his life, or when he had to annoyingly dig around the messy drawers in his lab to get his reading glasses. aging wasn’t something he usually would think about, but these days it was getting to him.

the usual routine of looking through old pictures peaked his insecurities. it started when the orange hologram glowed against the deepened wrinkles around his mouth, playing the collage of memories. younger miguel was much more relaxed — hopeful glints in his eyes and his hair much more fuller with brown locks. there wasn’t his usual dullness on his skin or even the harsh lines that indicated skipping meals to focus on his new invention.

he would never admit it, but he was jealous of who he was before. much less exposed to the darkness of his mistakes and making the most of his ignorance. miguel would grimly stare into his younger self smiling until lyla would suddenly alert him of a loose anomaly causing a sudden disturbance — forcing him to turn off his screen and shake off the melancholic feelings.

the younger spider-people that roamed around the headquarters seemed to make his predicament worse. gwen, who he begrudgingly recruited, would tease him for not understanding how to use any other technology that’s not his own creation. hobie, the most unpredictable of them all, would quip about miguel’s horrible posture whilst he demonstrates his much more straighter stance.

usually, miguel would dryly laugh at their attempts to tick him off or scare them off with a lethal glare, but he felt troubled by his own age. was he that old? well, he took his physicality very seriously, so maybe it wasn’t enough? miguel heavily sighs from the throbbing pain around his temple, sulking back on his chair as he defensively dragged his calloused fingers along the silver strands of hair — reaching to the curve following his slouched neck.

“you seem stressed.”

the sudden sound of your voice immediately startled miguel, almost toppling off his desk chair. you smiled at his clumsiness while he quickly recovered with a feigned cough, a deep red settling on his cheeks.

you, you were far more different than gwen and hobie. much more reserved, never teasing him about his age like the other two. you were always there to compliment him and whenever you called his name, there was always something good out it. miguel had a soft spot for you, but he couldn’t quite understand why you had one for him.

“is it obvious?” there was no need to lie around you.

a worried look settled onto your face. immediately, you settled the aromatic coffee onto his work desk and shuffled beside his broad shoulders, peering down at the unusual tangled locks of miguel’s hair. with slight hesitance, you ran a quivering hand through his hair, combing the dark grey streak that complimented his red eyes.

miguel didn’t protest, instead he slowly leaned into your touch — the weight of his head pressed on your stomach.

“i’m not that old, am i?” miguel shamefully asked. he felt weirdly conscious about his sudden vulnerability, but especially more confused by your gentle hands nestled in his hair.

you sighed in annoyance, instantly thinking back on gwen’s and hobie’s snarky comments. “miguel, don’t listen to them. they’re just teasing you.”

miguel furrowed his brows a bit. no, there’s a lot more than just that.

“it’s not only that but…” it was his past, it was you. it was all eating him alive, these bitter thoughts — his envy towards his younger self, your bright presence that never wavered away from his darker one.

“don’t.” you cut off his conflicted silence, tracing over his hairline with a gentle hand. “i know you’ve been through a lot, and all that means that you’ve just changed overtime. it just happens, you know?”

he hummed at your words thoughtfully, a little flustered that someone much younger is lecturing him.

“and i like you just the way you are.” you delicately tilted his chin up, finally gazing down at his crimson eyes. “even when you’re always grumpy.”

miguel chuckles at your little quip with a rare smile. gawking at your cute grin and crinkled eyes, miguel couldn’t help but pull you into a soft kiss — in which you instantly melted into.

he finally understood you now — you were never afraid to love him unconditionally.

#.୨୧ ina writes #miguel o’hara x reader #peter b parker x reader #miguel o’hara fluff #peter b parker fluff #miguel o’hara x y/n #peter b parker x y/n #atsv fluff #miguel o’hara x you #peter b parker x you #atsv x reader

644 notes · View notes

multi-fandom-imagine · 11 months

Text

« Importance || Peter B Parker ||

A/n: this was gonna be fore Miguel but I decided it fit Peter a bit better.

Prompt used:

Holding your jacket over your lover’s head as they hide from the rain, finding their formal outfit more important than your casual wear.

Peter knew he messed up when he ended the relationship with you, he couldn’t help but feel bitter when MJ informed him of your new relationship with Harry.

He thought the two we’re friends, that you were off limits but then again he fucked that relationship up too but if you were happy then he could be happy too, right?

Wrong. Miles may have given him the boost of confidence he needed but he wasn’t about to run up to you to confess that he still loved you and that he was an idiot that messed up. Though it seemed that the universe had other plans for him because he never expected to see you standing outside an awning wearing an elegant dress. You hadn’t spotted him of course, you were to busy yelling at someone on your phone.

He knew he shouldn’t butt in, that he should just keep his head hung low and be on his merry way but then it started to rain and you started to curse.

After hanging up on Harry you were about to step out onto the streets until it started to rain, though that was putting it nicely.

Hearing your name being called your eyes went wide for a moment. Peters name falling off your lips in a single breath, you didn’t expect to see him again. You hated the feeling of how your heart lurched, you hated knowing how you still felt the same way for him. “Peter you look good, though you might want to step out of the rain.”

Quickly making his way by your side the man let out a nervous laugh running his fingers through his wet hair. “Ah thanks…you look great, you look wow, you look beautiful.”

Feeling your cheeks warm you averted your eyes for a moment. “Thank you Peter….um I…I should really get home…this looks like it’s going to last all night and I have a feeling I’m going to be soaked…god I spent so much money on this stupid dress.” You muttered.

Opening his mouth for a moment, Peter quickly slipped off his jacket covering you head. “I’ll walk you the rest of the way….I don’t mind.”

Chuckling for a moment you stepped closer to Peters’s side. Still the same sweet man you feel for all those years ago and knowing that he won’t take no for an answer you grasped his hand. “Okay…shall we.”

It was a quiet walk, minus the rain hitting the side walk though you hated the silence. “Me and Harry are done.”

“What?!” Peter hadn’t been paying much attention, he was doing his best to keep you dry. “Shit….I’m sorry.”

“He cheated on me, confessed after our date….apparently he felt guilty. It was a one time thing, it’s who I was yelling at…and wow I’m sorry for dumping all of that on you” though you were grateful that you managed to get back to your little apartment.

Frowning, Peter adverted his eyes. He hated seeing you look so sad. He hated that Harry even had the chance to hurt you because he blamed himself, what could he even say to you.

‘I’m sorry? Ya that’s real nice.’

“Peter you’re talking to yourself?” Placing you hand on his door knob you squeezed it. “It was a little cute though…I.” Biting your lip smoothed out your dress thankfully it was still dry thanks to Peters efforts.

“Shit..I..Okay I’m gonna go. I….I still have the same number if you ever want to hang out and I’m going to stop talking so I’ll stop making an even bigger ass out of myself.”

Shaking your head you grasped his hand before he could leave. “Would you like to come in an dry off?”

“I..”Straighten his back, he gave you a smile. “I’d love too.”

457 notes · View notes

likedovesinthewindd · 10 months

Text

was rewatching itsv, and i love this loser—this is just nonsense i came up with. this takes place just before he's transported to miles' universe.

peter b. parker x reader

You didn't consider yourself the most neighborly person, but you were nice enough to the few people who lived around you in the busy New York apartment complex. In return, they were nice to you as well. The old lady to your left would invite you over every other Sunday for lunch. The guy to your right once fixed a leak in your bathroom and a broken cupboard door, and in return you had helped him fix up the extra room in his apartment so that his daughter could move in with him. Every other week you babysat for the couple who lived down the hallway, three apartments from yours.

You've formed somewhat of a friendship with most of the people you lived around, except for one.

The gentleman that lived in the apartment across from yours was somewhat of a loner. You hardly saw him; you only knew of his existence because you had come home from work one evening at the same moment he had opened his door to accept a pizza delivery.

You had given him a friendly smile, paired with a "Good evening," in a voice sweeter than honey itself, and he only answered with a rise of his brows and small smile.

He was never mean per say, but he also didn't seem like he wanted to be talking to you (or anyone) whenever you'd see him. He looked like he was going through one hell of a slump as well. He was always rocking a scruff, hair wild and unstyled and looking like he wore whatever he could find in his laundry. Sometimes you'd see him wear the same outfit two or three days in a row.

You were a little curious about him, as well as a bit concerned, so you devised a plan to go and start conversation in the hopes of finding out a little more about your mystery neighbor.

✮˚｡⋆

You gave two quick knocks to your neighbor's door before your hand quickly retreated back to the container of fresh baked cookies you had decided to bake him. Maybe this was coming on to strong, you thought, looking down at the bowl, the smell of the freshly baked batch filling your nose. You considered turning around and going back to your apartment, but just as you turned your back to his door, it opened with an unceremonious grunt.

"Can I help you?" you heard from behind you, and you turned back around slowly to face him, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "Hi," you smiled awkwardly, suddenly forgetting the little conversation starter you had planned out when you were baking the cookies. "I'm Y/N. I uh, I live across from you," you started, pointing to the apartment behind you.

"Yeah, I know," he said. Of course he knew, he's seen me! you thought, wanting to kick yourself. "Of course, well I just wanted to formally introduce myself, so I made you these. Hope you like gingerbread," you said, almost shoving the container at him, which he accepted gladly, albeit with a bit of confusion.

"Thanks," he said, eyes glued to the container's content, "they smell good." You gave him a tight-lipped smile, nervously rocking on the balls of your feet. "Alright well, I'll see you around," you turned around to make your way back to your apartment, but you were stopped by his gruff voice once again.

"I'm Peter, by the way. Don't think I've introduced myself," he said as you turned around once again. You gave him another small smile, finally knowing the identity of the ghost of a man that lived across from you.

"It's nice to meet you, Peter," you said before finally making your way into your apartment.

✮˚｡⋆

Night shift was weirdly one of your favorite times to clock into work. There was something oddly soothing about getting ready for work when most people were asleep, the sound of the otherwise sleepless city serving as white noise as you mutely moved around the apartment.

You were getting the last of your things together, preparing for the long night ahead of you. Just as you unlocked the door, bag messily draped over one arm while the other held onto a half eaten muffin, you were met with Peter as he quietly made his way inside his apartment. You wanted to great him, when his choice of attire caught your eye, causing the words to get caught in your throat. The blue and red attire wasn't hard to identify as a Spider-man suit, and your first thought was to laugh at it. It's not Halloween yet, is it? was what you wanted to say, but the terrified look on his face told you he wouldn't appreciate the joke at the moment. What also stood out to you was how realistic the suit itself looked, paired with the mask gripped tightly in his left hand, as the right was still placed on the doorknob. It definitely didn't look like the ones you could buy at the dollar store.

Noticing the long stretch of silence was what prompted you to finally say something about whatever this situation was. "Long night?" you asked quietly, turning around to lock your door and give him a way out. "Uh, yeah," he answered, obviously not understanding that you were trying to give him a way out. You hummed in understanding, and when you turned around, he was still standing in front of his door. "Listen—" he started.

"You should probably go inside, Peter," you interrupted him, and he finally understood what you were doing. "Right, you're right I, yeah." and he quietly slipped into his apartment without another word. You decided to not dwell on it for now. It wasn't your business anyway, even if the idea of Spider-Man being your neighbor intrigued you a bit. Besides, why on Earth would Spider-Man use the front door?

a/n: this is real stupid but i don't want it in my drafts.

#peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker imagine #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n #spiderman itsv #spiderman atsv #peter parker x reader #likedovesinthewindd

343 notes · View notes

madschiavelique · 6 months

Note

was just thinking about miguel/reader/peter with them being possessive & jealous while RAILING you after someone else flirts with you 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

okay so i know i could've just done a blurbo, but my mind said smth else LMAO (i gotta say besties i'm not super proud of this one but i think it's because i'm a bit rusty, hopefully it's still readable tho !!)

summary : miguel and peter railing you from possessiveness warnings : SMUT(18+), dom!miguel, meandom!peter (?), sub!reader, boob job (reader receiving), oral (reader receiving), possessiveness, afab!reader, no use of y/n, not proofread word count : 919 (short baby)

They saw that man, that miserable guy approaching you and trying to start a conversation with you. They obviously know that you’re theirs, and that they’re yours but they can't help feeling that pressing, sharpened weight of jealousy in their chests.

They try to hold on at the beginning, as they often do. Who knows, maybe he was just coming to ask you a question, just asking for information or something. They weren't necessarily partners restricting you much, so they'd just watch you from afar. They knew you didn't need them around all the time.

Of course, their composure began to evaporate as soon as he started smiling at you insistently. They both felt themselves boiling as he took another step towards you.

He moved closer to you, joking in a voice that made them want to strangle someone, preferably him, letting his hand rest on your shoulder as he laughed in your face. Too tactile, too insistent, too close.

It didn't take Miguel and Peter long to intervene.

"Hey, bunny," Peter called to get your attention as they came close to the two of you. "Sorry, they were out of the thing you wanted." He stood beside you as Miguel crossed his arms over his imposing torso, looking down on the fool who thought he was good enough to deign to approach you.

The man watched them, slightly confused.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" he asked, in a tone half irritated and half nervous.

"We're her partners," Miguel informed him impassively.

"Yo-" but he stopped himself in his tracks, his eyes shifting from Miguel's to yours. "your partners?" he pressed the S.

You nodded casually, a bit oblivious about the situation, as Peter gently stroked your hair.

"Why don't we go home, hmm?" he said softly, his eyes trying to keep the warmth of his tenderness, but his lips twitching slightly at the thought of that miserable guy trying to get close to you.

You agreed, both taking your hands to go outside. The way back was marked by a heavy silence. Miguel looked annoyed, and Peter, who rarely looked irritated, wore an expression akin to that of the taller man.

The true color of their feelings took on greater depth as, closing the door behind you, Miguel came to attack your lips, cupping your face to prevent you from breaking free of his grip as Peter came to press his lips to the nape of your neck behind you.

Your mind blurred and captured by the lips of your two partners, you managed to whisper against his lips between kisses, "What is it-" but your sentence was instantly muffled by Miguel's tongue pressing against yours.

"Watching you there," Peter breathed as his hands moved to the front of your waist to unbuckle your belt, his lips pressing warm kisses to the skin of your nape, "with him..."

A growl went up Miguel's throat at the mere mention of the idiot as he pulled away from your lips to remove your top.

"It drove us mad," Peter concluded as Miguel came and lifted you with a jerk to take you to your room.

You barely had time to feel the cool sheets of your bed under your back before Miguel resumed his sinuous waltz with your tongue. He grabbed your waist, reversing your positions and positioning himself underneath you.

Behind you, Peter had just pulled down your underwear, grabbing the skin of your buttock with his full hand before slapping it, causing you to let out a surprised moan against Miguel's lips. The latter straightened you on top of him, letting his lips descend on your breasts as Peter's thumb came to press against your slits.

"Did you have fun?" he asked as he lowered the latter to your clit, engaging in slow, circular movements. "Tormenting us like that."

"No," you whined as the sensation of Miguel's tongue describing delicious circles on the separation between the skin of your breast and that of your nipple mixed with that of Peter's thumb pressing slightly more on the sensitive nub.

"Course you didn't," you could hear the smile in his voice as he brought his face closer to your cunt, "you know you're ours, angel." he said as his tongue made a long line from your clit to your entrance.

The heat in your lower abdomen kept intensifying as your two lovers rushed to devour your body. Every inch of your skin had to be covered with their hands, fingers, lips and tongues.

Each stroke of their tongues brought their names to life on your lips. Miguel's fingers dug into the skin of your sides as he sucked your tit between his lips, engulfing it completely with the warmth of his mouth, while his other hand lingered on the second, pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger.

Peter's tongue made quick strokes against your clit, sucking it slightly and keeping your hips in place as his hands gripped your thighs firmly.

The knot in your stomach intensified by the second, feeling your lower abdomen grow tauter as the two never slowed their pace.

Your back arched, your heart pounding as everything exploded. Your body seemed made of vibrations, waves of bright light that made you feel as if your body no longer knew the limit of the lines it possessed.

Breathless and with your legs still trembling, you let yourself fall onto Miguel's chest.

"Oh, sweetheart, this is only the beginning." Peter smiled behind you, kissing your swollen clit.

514 notes · View notes

madzlang · 7 months

Note

Hi! Could you please write about Fem! Reader x Peter B? (NSFW) I would love it if it could include fluff and age gap, thank you 🥺❤️

i’m mixing two requests together so i can kill two birds with one stone

the second request was “can you write another peter b parker fic ?? 🫣” so imma do that

anyway, thank you both for requesting 😘😘

Big, Pretty Eyes

peter b parker x fem!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 19 and peter is 30 something), cheating, soft dom peter, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

“Oh! And look at this one!” Peter held out his phone in front of Miguel as they walked towards the cafeteria, with Mayday perched on Miguel’s shoulder. “Oh! And this one-“

“Peter. May is right here, I do not need to see pictures of her.” Miguel spoke lowly, a constant tone of sass and annoyance in his voice.

Peter just brushed him off, pulling up more photos. “Yeah, but you don’t see her eating spaghetti right now, do you? Like, look at this-“

He was cut off once more as Jess walked up to them. “The new recruit is here, Miguel.” She hummed out, looking behind her as if she was ready to introduce someone, but there was no one there, making her scoff and look around.

“Kid!” She yelled, clapping her hands to get the attention of a girl who was patting Web-slinger’s horse.

Said girl jumped and looked around, scurrying over. “Sorry, Jess.” She said sheepishly, tugging off her white and pink mask, revealing her face that Peter finally focused on after having his eyes glued on how her (adorably pink and white) spider suit clung to her body

He swallowed harshly, plucking Mayday off of Miguel’s shoulder as she started reaching for the new stranger.

“This is the boss man I was telling you about, kid.” Jess introduced, nodding at Miguel.

A smile grew on her face as she held her hand out. "Hi, Mr. Miguel, I'm-" She cut herself off after seeing the small baby in Peter's arms. "Oh. My. Goodness. That is the cutest baby I've ever seen." She cooed, holding her hands out for Mayday. "Can I hold her?" She asked, looking up at Peter with big, doe eyes.

He just stared for a moment before nodding. "Oh. Oh, yeah." He handed Mayday over, watching as the girl scooped the baby up into her arms.

"You are just the cutest, honey." She giggled, playing with Mayday's red hair. "What's her name?" She looked back up at Peter with those big, pretty eyes that made all the blood rush from his head down to his cock.

"Uh, May. Mayday." He mumbled, shaking his head slightly and tying his robe up in the front to hide his boner that was practically being strangled through the thin material of his spider suit.

"She's adorable." She complimented, bouncing Mayday while still looking up at Peter with those big, pretty eyes.

Those same big, pretty eyes that had his hand wrapped around his cock later that night, while imagining those big, pretty eyes looking up at him with her mouth wrapped around his dick.

Also those same big, pretty eyes that lead to him fucking MJ later that night, imagining her beneath him instead of this wife.

The next day Peter walked around the spider society with Mayday in his arms, trying to avoid the colours pink and white at any cost, not wanting to be reminded of the young girl he met yesterday.

He groaned under his breath slightly when he heard Jess’s voice calling out to him. He stopped walking and turned around to face her, grumbling ‘fuck’ under his breath when he saw the girl standing behind Jess, her hands behind her back and mask off, showing off her pretty eyes that made Peter want to run to the nearest bathroom. But instead he just walked over and greeted Jess with a smile and a bounce of Mayday who immediately started reaching for the younger girl again.

He looked to her before passing her the baby, making a large smile grow on her face as she took Mayday and played with her.

Now, Peter really did try and pay attention to what Jess was saying. He really did. But all he could focus on was how the younger girl played with his daughter and how her lips puckered to kiss the baby’s chubby cheeks.

“Peter? You paying attention?” Jess asked, raising her eyebrows.

Peter inhaled and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, of course.”

“Hm. Sure.” She hummed, taking Mayday into her arms making her whine and start to fuss. “Have fun, Peter.” She nodded and walked off with the whining baby in her arms.

“What?” He mumbled under his breath before looking over at the girl as she was bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“Jess said you gotta show me around for the day..” She smiled sweetly.

“Ah, thanks.” He mumbled, cursing himself for not listening and making up some excuse as to why he couldn’t because now he had to spend all day with the subject of his fantasies for the past 24 hours.

He nodded his head to the side and started walking, a faint smile on his lips as he saw her skip next to him.

“I know I kept saying it yesterday, but your daughter really is adorable.” She giggled out, looking around.

“Thank you.” He smiled, and tried to force out the words ‘she gets it from her mother’ but couldn’t.

She looked at his hand as he scratched the back of his neck.

“You’re not married?” She asked softly, making him look at his hand and put it in his robe pocket so she couldn’t see the tan line from where his ring usually is.

“Um, nope.” Peter wasn’t exactly sure why he left his wedding ring off that morning. Or why he took it off considering he hadn’t once in the past year.

She bit her lip and looked at him. “You got a girlfriend or something?”

“Nope. Divorced.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he lied then either. Well, he technically knew why, but he wasn’t sure why M.J was suddenly the last thought on his mind.

“Oh. I’m sorry. Mayday’s mother?” He nodded in response and shrugged.

“It’s okay. You didn’t ruin our marriage, you don’t need to apologise.” He laughed slightly and couldn’t stop the thought of how she really could be the end of his marriage entering and running around his mind.

“Yeah, I guess.” She smiled and shrugged.

Peter looked around, furrowing his brows when he saw where they were.

“Well, uh, these are bedrooms for when we get back from a particularly hard mission and can’t make it home or have to recover from injury or something.” He said, opening a door so she could look in the bedroom. He looked her up and down as she walked in, his eyes staying on her ass for a few moments.

“Miguel really decked these out, huh?” She giggled, jumping onto the bed and laying in it.

“Yeah, he did. It’s a shame they aren’t used too often. Well, not really for their purpose anyway.” He shrugged, leaning on the now closed door.

“What purpose?” She asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him.

His cheeks erupted in a blush as he looked to the ground.

“Well.. you know?” He spoke awkwardly, looking at her only to see a confused expression on her face.

“Like.. oh god. I didn’t think I’d have to have the talk for a couple years yet.” He groaned and move to sit on the bed next to her.

“Ohhh. Like… sexual purposes?” She muttered. “Why here, though?” She furrowed her brows, kicking her feet.

“I’m not sure. I guess sexual desire might be more strong in us compared to a regular human.” He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I haven’t exactly done it.”

“Why? Cause you’re always carrying around Mayday?” She giggled, bumping his shoulder with hers.

He laughed too, shaking his head.

“I guess I just never had someone to do it with.” And I have a wife he thought but didn’t say, just looking up at her from where he was looking at the ground, only to find her already looking at him with those big, pretty eyes.

“Your eyes are so pretty.” He blurted out before he could stop it. His own eyes widened as he processed what he said. “Uh- i- I mean-“

“Thanks.” She giggled cutting him off as her cheeks turned red.

He inhaled, looking her up and down as they sat next to each other on the edge of the bed, their shoulders touching.

He debated with himself for a few moments before he brought a hand up and cupped her jaw, giving her time to pull away before he pressed his lips to hers. But she didn’t. She didn’t pull away. Instead her hands gripped his robe and kissed him back.

He groaned into her lips, his free hand gripping her waist.

He broke away from her lips after a few moments, a dark blush on both of their faces.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He groaned, burying his head into his hands.

"Hey, no, it's okay." She reassured in her sweet voice.

"No it's not. You're so much younger than me." And I have a wife and child he wanted to say.

"I didn't mind it. I wouldn't have kissed you back if I wasn't okay with it." She put her hand on his thigh, rubbing softly.

He removed his hands from his face, looking over at her, seeing those big, pretty eyes looking over at him.

"Can.. can I kiss you again?" He asked nervously.

She giggled and nodded.

He inhaled deeply before surging forward and pressing their lips together. It was a sweet kiss, which surprised him greatly. He thought the raging boner he had would make him a sexual deviant and fuck her brains out, but he just wanted to take care of her.

Although he didn’t immediately press her into the (comfy) mattress and fuck her, the little whimper she let out when he gripped her thigh made him want to bust in his sweatpants.

He groaned into her lips before gripping both of her thighs and shuffling up the bed, softly putting her down on it so her head was on the pillow. He hovered above her, one of his hands playing with her hair that was sprawled out on the pillow.

“Pretty girl.” He mumbled making her giggle and look away. “Hey, hey, don’t look away, sweetheart. Wanna see those pretty eyes.” He gripped her chin and turned her head back towards him. “There she is.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

He trailed his hand down her body, rubbing across the spandex suit, making sure to pay extra attention to her tits before trailing his hand down her tummy and to her plush thighs.

“So perfect.” He mumbled, settling between her thighs to rub his thumb across the warmth he felt between her legs. “Can- can I take-“

He couldn’t even finish before she was sitting up and reaching behind her back to peel her suit off. As it reached her hips, he tugged it down the rest of the way, dropping it to the ground.

He sat up on his knees, just admiring her body. Her perfect curves. Her big, pretty eyes.

He quickly dove his head in between her legs to ignore the growing feeling of affection he felt towards her, pushing MJ even further into the back of his mind. He relished in the whiny, breathy moan that erupted from her mouth as he flicked his tongue over her clit.

He moved down to focus on her entrance, purposefully pressing his nose into her clit as her circled her entrance with his tongue, slowly working it in.

She let out another moan as he thrusted his tongue in and out of her, his nose brushing against her puffy clit.

“Oh, please, Peter!” She whined loudly, gripping the bedsheets as he slowly pressed his index finger into her to replace his tongue as he moved back up to suck on her clit.

“What, pretty girl? Tell me what you want.” He grumbled into her clit, flicking it with his tongue as he pressed his middle finger inside of her and started to curl them.

“Want- want to cum, Peter! Your mouth is so good!” She whimpered out, tugging on the bedsheets.

“Hmm, cum for me. Cum on my face. In my mouth, pretty girl.” He grumbled, thrusting his fingers inside of her.

She whimpered as the coil in her tummy started getting tighter.

Her back arched as she came over his face, her legs shaking. He slowly thrusted his fingers inside of her to help her ride through her orgasm.

He kept moving his fingers until she pushed his head away from her with an overstimulated whine.

He shuffled up the bed and laid beside her, sticking his fingers inside her mouth.

“You taste so good.” His words were muffled through his fingers as he sucked on them, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head at the taste of her.

She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, feeling the heat pool in her tummy again.

As soon as he took his fingers out of his mouth, she pushed his robe off of his shoulders, throwing it to the ground before doing the same with his sweatpants then his own spandex suit.

“Fuck.” He breathed out, watching her tug his clothes off.

He softly pushed her shoulders back, stabilising himself over her with his arms on either side of her head.

“You sure you want this?” He mumbled, moving a hand down to position his hard dick at her entrance.

“So- so sure.” She whined softly, looking down to in between her legs so she could see him push in.

He nodded, chewing on his lip as he slowly pushed the tip in, immediately groaning at the feeling, his head burying into her neck, hearing the loud whine she let out.

He closed his eyes and held back the feeling of wanting to cum right away.

“Please- please move, Peter.” She whined, pulling him out of his daze and making him realise he was barely inside of her.

He groaned and nodded, pushing himself in further until he got halfway. “So tight, pretty girl.” He mumbled into her neck more pushing in further.

He slowly pushed in until he got to the base, his small tuft of pubic hair pressing against her pubic bone.

“Oh god!” She moaned, her arms wrapping around him, her nails digging into his back.

“That’s it.” He mumbled, slowly moving his hips back before pushing back into her.

“So pretty. So gorgeous. Feel fantastic wrapped around my dick.” He mumbled into her neck, letting out a small whimper as she clenched around him.

She moaned, her head falling back into the pillows as he thrusted back in after pulling out until she was wrapped only around his tip.

“Oh! You- you feel so good. Fillin’ me up so good.” She whined, her back arching as he trailed his hand down her body and rubbed her clit as he increased his pace.

“Please, Peter.” She whined loudly, her nails digging even more into his back.

“What? What, pretty girl? What do you want me to do for you?” He grumbled, thrusting his hips inside of her, nuzzling his nose into her neck.

“Oh, please, please.” She whined again.

“God, you don’t even know what you want, huh? Just want me, don’t you?” He grinned, kissing her pulse point.

She whimpered and nodded her head. “Just- just need you.”

“That’s it.” He mumbled, morning when he felt her clench on him after he rubbed her clit even more.

“God, you gonna cum on my cock, pretty girl?” He mumbled, pressing kisses all over her neck.

She whined and nodded enthusiastically, dragging her nails down his back.

“Cum, baby.” He groaned, sucking on her neck.

“What- what about you? Wanna cum at the same time as you.” She whined.

“Just feeling you clench around me will be enough for me to bust, pretty. Just cum. Cum all over my dick, pretty.” He mumbled into her ear making her leg out a high pitched moan.

Her legs started shaking as she came, her pussy clenching tightly around him, making him whimper.

“I-I can cum in you, right?” He moaned making her nod.

“Please.” She whined making him moan and cum inside of her, letting out a shudder as he felt the warmth of his own cum surrounding his dick in her tight pussy.

A few moments later he pulled out, watching his cum leak out of her. He pressed kisses up her tummy, to her ribs, to her chest, her collarbones, up her neck, then finally to her lips.

“My pretty girl.” He mumbled against her lips.

“Y’know I uh, I don’t blame you.” Peter heard Miguel say to him from behind him in the cafeteria line, breaking him out of his stare at the younger girl playing with his daughter.

“Huh?” Peter asked, turning to the huge man, seeing him already holding his box of empanadas. “What’re you talking about?”

“I had cameras installed in the recovery rooms after I heard what was happening in them.” Miguel said with a grin on his face.

Peter’s mouth turned dry at the man’s words. “Uh- uh- what?”

Miguel rolled his eyes, grumbling something in Spanish. “Don’t act dumb. I saw what happened the other day.”

“Please-“ Peter tried to beg but Miguel cut him off.

“I won’t say anything to MJ. Promise. Like I said; I don’t blame you. I would too if I got a chance.” He shrugged before leaving the line, empanada box in hand.

#peter parker smut #peter b parker #peter b parker x y/n #fem reader #peter b parker smut #peter b parker x reader #across the spiderverse smut #across the spiderverse #spiderman #reader insert

245 notes · View notes

reverieblondie · 6 months

Text

Costume Party

Pairing: Peter B. Parker X Fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with some Plot, Exhibitionism, Praise, Mask-Kink, Protected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), Fingering, Pining.

Summary: At a costume party you run into a guy with a very impressive Spider-Man costume....He seems familiar...

A/N: So, I am not ashamed to admit it! I think Peter B is hot and needs more fics about him. For this story MJ and Peter are divorced. If you enjoyed this Halloween themed Fic, please checkout my Halloween Fic with Miguel here.

Word Count: 6,245 (Not edited very well, sorry)

“I can't believe how crowded this place is, it’s not even Halloween yet?”

You shout in the crowded bar filled with an array of costume-clad people. It was a week before Halloween and people were already out and about getting the Halloween festivities into full swing. Your friend Bea laughs at your remark.

“Well some people are trying to get the most out of their costumes, it's no fun you only get one night to enjoy it.”

“Like Mallory?” pointing your finger to the dance floor you see your friend Mallory dressed as an amazing Jason Voorhees tearing it up on the dance floor drawing in a crowd. Let's just say Mallory takes Halloween very seriously.

Taking a moment just to appreciate your friend Bea breaks the silence, “Never thought I would see Jason twerking…”

“You have to love her enthusiasm” you respond hypnotized by the slight.

“Well Kitty Cat, I think Jason could use a dancing partner and Barbie is just the right person. Are you going to join us?” Bea dressed as cowgirl Barbie begins to dance over to Mallory as she keeps her eyes on you for your answer.

“You two go for it, I'm going to walk around, maybe get some fresh air..”

With that Bea gives you a nod and starts dancing with Mallory, rewarding you with the image of Barbie dancing with Jason Voorhees. Not being much for dancing you start walking around the party and watching the different costume-clad people having fun and interacting. There are Vampires, Werewolves, Nurses, disgraced celebrities, and ghouls galore! Costumes ranged from professional cosplayer level to a dude in a Spider-Man tee shirt and a plastic mask. No judgment though you went the basic route with your costume going as a sexy kitty, a costume that Mallory had loaned you from her vast collection.

Mallory being the Halloween fanatic had invited you and Bea to this costume party at a popular club and with it being October, of course, it was a costume party. Not minding too much you had Mallory pick out a costume for you and off to the club you went.

In all honesty, you needed a party to attend, work was starting to stress you out due to your boss being well a dick. Now three hours in the club is in full swing, the crowded floor and booming music all though enjoyable was starting to give you a slight headache. So needing to find a way to soothe your headache you decide to go outside to get some first air.

Pushing your way through the club you find a backside door. Perfect! Haphazardly swinging it open, you hear a smack followed by a low groan. Quickly stepping out in the cool night air you see a guy in a very impressive Spider-Man costume rubbing his hand over his nose. Shit-

Feeling guilty you rush over apologizing profusely, “Oh, I am so sorry! Are you okay?”

“Why are you swinging doors open so-” The masked man quickly stops mid-sentence looking at you in what seems to be a surprise, you can only assume due to the mask covering his face, but the white lenses grow wide looking at you so it tipped you off. Clearing his throat he finally looks away before speaking, “I’m fine don’t worry about it”

“Well I feel bad I smacked you pretty hard, is it broken?” You try reaching for the mask to lift it but he quickly holds his hands up moving away and stopping you.

“I’ve taken worse hits, it’s no big deal really” He lifts his mask and reveals his lips and the tip of his nose. “See, not even bleeding,” he says with a slight smile.

Woah, diggin the scruff there my guy, plus that cute smile? You couldn’t help yourself from blushing slightly. He lowers his mask again, seeming to be leaving but you interject. “Um Wait, I still feel bad! Maybe I can buy you a drink? To make up for my reckless door opening?”

He seems to think for a moment, rubbing his hand on his chin. Watching as he eyes you for a moment, you can't see his eyes but you have a feeling he is talking to you all in. Adjusting your skirt you give a sweet smile trying to persuade him.

“You're not going to hit me again, are you? kitty?”

The playful pet name has you biting your bottom lip quickly. Okay, flirt. Not knowing the way that costume is showing off his arms, the playful teasing, or maybe it's the mask but you're intrigued by him.

“Not unless you give me a reason too” you playfully say, opening the door and turning back for him to follow you in.

“Well I will tread carefully then,” he follows closely behind you.

Making your way with Spider-Man in tow, you push past all the different ghouls. Finally making your way to the bar you hand him a menu looking through one yourself. “Just try to steer away from the top shelf please.”

This gets a laugh out of him as he leans against the bar, something about his laugh seemed familiar in a way but you couldn't place it. “I thought you were making up for hitting me with a door?”

“I am, but you didn't bleed, if you had bled you could have gotten top shelf.” You tease and it causes him to laugh more, you're kinda surprised by yourself flirting with a random stranger but there is something about him that you just can't help it. The bartender finally makes their way over to you two, inquiring about your orders. Spidy orders an Old-fashioned while you order a Sbagliato, you can’t let him drink alone now, could you?

Receiving your drinks you two sip and start chatting, common small talk, but both of you dance around the obvious question ‘What's your name’. Lost in the conversation you're just drinking the tall man in. Two things circle your mind as he talks; One you're really into the way his lips curl against the glasses rim and two his costume is really impressive now that you look at it closer.

Spider-Man, New York's favorite hero, has become one of the most popular costumes. They ranged from kids' costumes to adults and even offered a sexy Lady Spider costume that you have seen a few times tonight. But this guy's costume was impressive. Not only did it look high quality, but it was like it was designed just for him to show off his assets. Was he completely jacked? No, but those strong arms and solid chest still had you blushing.

“I like your costume, Spider-Man he's a good one” This catches his attention and he looks towards you before responding. “You don’t think it's a bit…Overdone?”

You chuckle “Maybe, But I'm dressed as a sexy kitty. I can't exactly judge someone on having an overdone costume.” This causes him to laugh sliding closer to you. “Plus, your costume is really impressive, looks professional quality.” reaching over lightly brush your fingertips across the web pattern.

“Well, I like your costume, I think you pull it off well, the ears are a nice touch” he turns to look at you and you can feel your face blush from the compliment. For a moment you feel his hand slightly graze your lower back, but it's only for a second before he moves away taking a long sip of his drink. Poor thing wants to flirt but doesn't want to seem like a creep. Giving him some reassurance to the flirting you squeeze his forearm feeling his muscle.

“So, is the mysterious guy thing a technique of yours?”

He looks at you with a crooked smirk “What do you mean?”

“You know, the whole masked man thing? Flirting with girls but never revealing who you really are, keeping us as strangers.”

“Are you sure we are strangers?” he quickly interjects. oh?

“Are we not?” you inquire with a smirk, something about him is familiar but you still can't place it.

“Well, we have been talking for a while now, I think we have at least turned to acquaintances by now.” ah, that's what he means. “Well, I usually know my acquaintances' faces.”

He leans in more, his mask still lifted showing off his grin “Well, what's the excitement in that?”

-----

Now you're not exactly sure how you ended up in a dark booth but here you are still talking to your mystery man, he was right about the excitement, it made the flirting and slight touches just a little bit better.

“I swear if my boss wasn't riding someone's ass he would die!” throw your head in your hands, somewhere in between small talk and flirting work was mentioned and you took the chance to vent. As you are ranting you feel a finger brush against your cheek then tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. You stop talking and feel all your breath escape you, his soft touch has your heart racing.

Sliding closer to you he's whispering in your ear “You know kitty cat, it sounds like you need some stress relief…” -oh, word?

“Is that so? And how are you going to relieve my stress?” I ask arching my back to lean in closer

Leaning in, he plays with a strain of your hair, he's so close to you know you feel his warm breath tickling your ear. The warmth radiating off him just causes you to shudder in excitement. “I figured I could fuck you so good you forget about your job…”

The bluntness of his comment has your skin tingling with a sudden rush. With a shaky breath you respond, “T-that's big talk For s-someone who hasn’t even kissed me yet…”

“Well then, let me kiss you,” he gently grabs your chin and brings you closer to his lips. Feeling the heat of your body rising to a fever you lean in with half-lidded eyes lips in a slight pout waiting for him to kiss your flushed face. Even though you can't see his eyes you can see the smile stretching to his lips and the blush starting to creep across what you can see of his face.

“Please” is all you can whimper before he gently leads his lips to yours, the kiss is slow but intense. It made your body feel like you were on fire only to be cooled by his hands sliding up your thighs to then grip your hips bringing you closer.

One of his hands plays with the hem of your skirt before slipping under to brush gently against your ruined panties, causing a quick gasp to escape your lips. Taking his opportunity he slips his tongue past your lips allowing him to taste you, while his finger pushes harder against your clothed folds pushing the ruined fabric further against your clit.

Breaking away from the kiss you whine breathlessly as he continues to brush against your wet cunt. “We’re in public…”

He just smirks as he slips his finger under your underwear running his long finger over your dripping slit, this causes a sudden moan to rip through you, “shh, I know, your going to have to be quiet, there are other people around kid..” his honeyed voice teases as he continues to slowly push his finger in to curl into you.

Shaking your head no you can't help but tighten and squirm as he touches you. Unable to contain yourself by letting out quiet moans as your wetness starts dripping down his fingers. Wanting to push you over the edge he starts rubbing tight circles at your clit with his thumb, which has your head being thrown back with a gasp.

Ever the opportunist you're figuring out he kisses and licks your neck up to your ear. “Shh, We could go somewhere more private if you want?”

Breathless trying to keep your cool you can only release a ‘mhmm’ before he's pulling his finger out of your weeping slit. Before you can complain you see him take his coated finger in his mouth, shutting you up. Surviving around he sees an empty-looking bathroom and nods his head towards it. Eyes completely blown, face fulling red you can only nod in agreement.

Chuckling at your lustful expression he adjusts your cat ears on your head. Downing his drink he takes your hand and leads you out of the booth, he walks behind you and whispers in your ear, “I’m going to take such good care of you, such a good girl, you deserve to be taken care of” his soft phrases have you melting and eager to get him alone.

Before you can get to the bathroom, you quickly stop remembering something important, pulling him closer to whisper in his ear.

“I will meet you over there. I have to get something from my friend really quickly.”

He pulls you for a kiss and bites your bottom lip when he pulls away. “Hurry, I need to make you feel good.”

Nodding quickly you run off to go find your friend. Looking like a mad woman you're scanning all over the club for your friends till you see a shoulder-shimming Jason and you quickly make your way over.

“Mallory, I need to get something from you!” you say desperately as she continues to dance.

“Nuh uh call me by my name please” she teases as he swings her hips around.

“Uhhg, Jason I need a condom”

Mallory suddenly stops dancing and slowly turns to you. “Excuse me-“

“Just give me the fucking condom!” You say you are fully frustrated, you have a sexy man wanting to ravish you, you don't have time for any teasing, you're hot and horny and need to go!

Mallory looks at you confused before reaching into her wallet and giving you the contraceptive. Before you can rush off she grabs your arm. “Just know you wouldn’t survive a horror movie.”

Giving a quick ‘Thank you’ you run off to Spider-Man.

———

Rushing back you see him leaning against the wall near the bathroom. As you approach he is quick to grab your hand and lead you in. As soon as you're through the door he's locking it and pressing burning kisses to your lips backing you up to the cold wall. Gasping at the feeling of his hands slowly rubbing all over your curves he makes you wetter.

“So pretty,” he mumbles as he brings you away from the wall, bending you over on the sink's counter in front of the mirror. Quickly peeling away your shirt he kisses up your spine and massages your breast. You can't help but push your ass into his strained cock feeling him twitch as you rub against him. placing his hand on your jaw he lifts your head to face the mirror. Kissing along your neck, Confused you go to make a snarky remark “What am I ah-”

A moan rips through you as two fingers are slipped through your puffy folds into your slit stretching you open instantly. He can only chuckle and he moves his lips to your shoulder, kissing you as he sinks knuckle-deep into your tight cunt. Moans slip from your lips as the stretch he's causing you, and this is only his fingers.

After a single moment for you to adjust to his fingers, he curls them into you looking into the mirror watching as your face contours in ecstasy. “Nuh uh, Kitty, keep those eyes open, look at how gorgeous you are….”

Shooting your eyes open you see his mask eyes on you with his lips cooing sweet words while he pushes faster into you curling slow and deliberate. Mouth hanging open you start to push your hips into his hand more.

“Oh, that feels good huh kid? You work so hard, like a good girl…”

All you can do is nod as you approach your high, feeling yourself clench around him approaching your orgasm.

“Feels so good, I do work hard…” you moan out watching him through the mirror. He smiles and hums pushing you down further spreading your legs out further, now hitting your sweet spot. You can't help how you're moaning, and he just smiles like your moans are music to his ears.

“A good girl like you, I can tell you do, ride my fingers till you cum, you deserve it….” Being supported by the squelching sound of your wet cunt and his sweet phrase you start rocking yourself back and forth faster and faster, slamming his long fingers into your dripping wet cunt. Chasing your high the orgasm rips from you and you cream all over his digits. It drips down his fingers falling to the floor.

“Cumming so pretty for me,” he coos and he takes your costume off, you're still coming down from your high so you lazily watch through lidded eyes as he strips your skirt and panties off. Then swiftly peels down his suit and pulls his cock out and it's already pebbling with pre cum. Pumping his cock he watches your aroused clit swell and your spend slit clench around nothing. While rolling on the condom he coos at you.

“You want to cum again?”

Watching him pump himself you let out a whine of yes arching your back to entice him to put it in. Chuckling he gathers your arousal around his cock teasing you further.

“Please! I need it!”

“Oh? You need it alright, going to make it where you won’t forget about this cock kitty cat. Now look forward, I want those pretty eyes watching me.”

Sliding into you smoothly his cock stretches you deliciously making you moan as he pushes further, filling you up. Your hands splay out over the sink counter, it's pure bliss that makes your mind clear of all the bullshit you have had to endure till this moment. Forget him fucking you so good you forget your job you're forgetting everything. He slowly starts his positioning into you, you can feel him resisting the urge to slam into you from the tight grip on your hips.

“Oh your such a good girl for me, taking me so well”

He thrust into you faster into your messily wet cunt, His increased pace making your second high come all too quickly. Looking up you see him biting his lip as your pussy tightens around him, feeling him leaning over you, feeling sloppy kisses and nipping at your shoulders and neck as he rails into you deeper. Feeling his tip kiss your spot that has you seeing stars.

“Don’t cum yet kitty, I want to feel you clench down on me more” his heavy breathing fans over your ear before he's kissing your earlobe.

All you can do is whine as he keeps throbbing and pushing you. The shooting pleasure has your knees buckling and your body shaking. Moaning from you and him bouncing off the wall you feel him grab a handful of your hair and bring your eyes to the mirror.

“Taking me so good, so good… ” He thrust harder, losing all the remaining restraint he once had. Looking forward in the mirror your face is flushed, hair completely ruined, biting your lip hard. The knot in your stomach feels like it's about to burst.

“Ah, I need to cum!”

“Ah, cum on me baby,”

Feeling your pussy clench tighter on him, his words make your knot snap as his cock throbs within you. Vision blurring your orgasm washes over you dramatically causing you to scream out and you make a mess all over his cock. Helping you ride your orgasm he reaches his fingers to your cunt he plays with it sending you further over the edge.

Finally, with your cunt fluttering over him, you feel his cock throb and spurt while inside you reaching his high. Panting, he holds himself up on the contour, arms keeping you caged underneath him. It's quiet for a moment before he gently pulls out of you. Rubbing your back he carefully leans you up supporting you as you finally stand straight, your legs feel like jelly.

As you catch your breath, he seems to have recovered mostly. Helping you get cleaned up, fixing your hair, and handing you your costume. As you get dressed you feel like you should say something to him, ask his name, ask for his number maybe? You want to see him again.

“So um…” As you start to speak up he sees your nervousness. Quickly getting his costume back on he leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, then to your neck, moving to your ear lightly nipping at it to make you laugh.

“I will see you next weekend on Halloween, here, okay?”

“Okay”

With that, he puts his mask down helps you readjust your costume and walks you out of the bathroom. Before he leaves he whispers to you,” I can’t wait to see you again kid.” Kid…He keeps calling you that, it's familiar…

when you turn around to look back at him he’s gone.

——-

Typing away you are trying to get all of the meetings with the chief organized, you also have to organize all his paperwork, take all his calls, Go in and scribe for all his meetings or whatever rants he is making that you want you to write down. Then order him lunch, get his dry cleaning sent and delivered, and make sure he has dinner reservations to whatever place he's craving that night. All this while he is yelling at you to bring him coffee or whatever else he needs from around the newsroom. Working for J. Jonah Jameson was rough, especially as his assistant.

While you are trying to get your work done you also have Bea in your ear, she was a copy editor at the Daily Bugle, however today she was ignoring her work, and all she could talk about was…

“I can’t believe it! I’m still in shock! You had sex with some random guy at the club!”

People around your desk look at you two with puzzled expressions. Lowering your head you grimace “Yeah, why don’t you say it a little louder I don’t think the marketing department heard you.”

Lowering her voice she continues to say “I’m sorry Y/N, I just can’t believe you hooked up with a random stranger at a club, that's pretty spontaneous…and you didn't see his face at all?”

“Well, not fully I saw his lips and the tip of his nose…”

“Kinky…so when you see him again are you going to wear a mask too?” rolling your eyes you look at her unamused “Are you done?” She laughs and hugs you as you continue to type. “For now until I think of more jokes or come to ask for more details.”

During the hug, Jameson calls for you. Bea lets go of you and starts heading back to her department giving you a sad wave as she goes. Quickly rising from your desk grabbing your notepad just in case you hurry to your boss's office to see what he wants. Pacing in his office he is yelling at someone over the phone, a common tone for him. Jameson darts his scowl towards you and snaps at you, you quickly get ready to write something down but he shakes his hand and mouths the word ‘Coffee’ pointing to his empty mug. Ah, of course, go fetch him coffee.

Backing away from the doorframe you suddenly feel that you are pressed against someone. Quickly turning your head to apologize, your breath catches in your throat. Smiling down at you, you're met with a familiar set of brown eyes that always makes you feel giddy, Peter B Parker. Carefully he places a hand on your waist gently moving you through the doorway.

“Sorry kid, I have to squeeze past you,” he keeps his smile on you as he slips past. Once inside he takes his seat in front of Jameson's desk waiting for him to finish his call.

As you're walking out you can't help but look over your shoulder to steal a glance of Peter, but when you do you catch Peter doing the same to you. Shooting you another smile you feel your face warm and quickly go to make your boss's coffee.

Making your way back to Jameson's office, coffee made just how he likes you see that Peter is showing him his latest photos of Spider-Man. Glancing at the photos you are reminded of how talented Peter is, definitely one of the best freelance photographers that works for the paper.

Honestly looking at some of the pictures you have to question how he was getting such incredible shots, he would never reveal his secret though. Peter had been gone for a couple of months, a nasty divorce apparently which made you rather sad. Peter was one of the nicest guys at the paper, he always talked and joked with you, treating you like an actual person, not everyone is always so nice.

Now he was back you were excited that the Bugle would have some quality pictures and you got to see more of Peter again. Being honest with yourself you have a bit of a thing for him. Kind, super smart, incredibly funny plus not bad to look at either, how could you not end up with a crush? Though when you two first met he was married so that meant off limits, then the divorce happened and he did not take it well. Now that he's finally back he seems okay, you notice that he talks to you more and you two share more stolen glances but that could just be wishful thinking on your part.

“Y/N!” Suddenly snapped from your thoughts you see your boss and Peter staring at you.

“Yes sir?”

Jameson rolls his eyes “I said quit your daydreaming and hand me my coffee!” Nodding you quickly hand him his coffee and decide that it’s time you took a break.

--------

Plopping down in the breakroom you lazily look down at your coffee sighing. If only your masked stranger was here to relieve your stress again. Mind wandering back to that night you feel your face heat from what he said to you, how he touched you, his lips…lips…reminiscing back you think of that smile and the conversations, he seemed familiar? Especially that smile…and what did he mean when he said we might not be strangers?

Face contorted in thought you fail to notice that Peter has walked into the breakroom. Reaching the top shelf Peter pulls down a mug and pours himself some coffee looking over at you he must see you lost in thought, “Penny for your thoughts?”

His voice startles you for a moment breaking your trance, Peter looks at you expectantly waiting for you to speak, You couldn’t repress the words flying from your mouth as you stared at Peter, “Would you fuck a stranger?”

“Uh, I mean I think I could manage it for sure. But I would hardly call us strangers?” He says with a smirk. Huh? -Deja vu

You roll your eyes you brush off the words with a laugh “It’s not a proposition it was just a question”

“That’s a pretty specific question?”

“Well, this weekend I was at a party and I met this guy…and he was so funny and charming that we, you know…”

“Had sex” Peter says frankly finishing your sentence for you.

“Yeah had sex”

“Well sounds like your not strangers”

“That’s the thing though, he kept his mask on…”

Peter gives a long whistle “y/n? You are a freaky little thing aren't you?”

Something about how he says that makes your body rush with excitement, it feels…familiar…shaking the feeling away you continue.

“Do you think that's weird though? Like I didn’t see his full face at all.”

Peter smirks to himself as he pours sugar and cream into his coffee. As he sits down he stirs his coffee listening to you ramble, “Well, I think it's up to you. Did you like it?”

“I mean yeah, but it's still weird…but like a good weird, you know? It's exciting.” As you look up you see him listening intently to you, his eyes bright and smile soft, it makes your heart skip for a moment.

“I probably shouldn’t be talking to you about this, I'm sorry..”

“Doesn't bother me, I'm the one who asked '' He playfully nudges your arm and you can't help but giggle. “Are you going to see him again?”

“Yeah, same place Halloween night…kinda nervous about it”

“Why, I mean you two already had sex at the club?”

“Yeah, wait…how did you know we had sex at the club?” you look towards him with furrowed brows. Peter looks surprised for a moment but quickly responds “I heard your friend talking about it.” -of course he did…

Sighing you put your head in your hands. Peter pats your back “It’s not that bad I don't think everyone knows…yet..”

With a pout you place your chin in your hand leaning on the table, “It's not that, it's the mystery guy.”

“What, you don't want to see him again?”

“I do, just…what if he doesn't want to see me again?”

Looking down at your coffee you're kinda in shock that you're confessing all this to your office crush, who does that? But suddenly you feel a familiar gesture, a finger sliding across your cheek tucking a strain of hair behind your ear. Looking over to Peter you see that same smile, it's just like...You feel your face heat up. Peter's face looks equally flustered, quickly he moves his hand and grabs his coffee. Standing quickly he mutters how he has to go, before he's out the door he turns around, “he would be crazy not to want to see you again y/n”

With that, he leaves you a blushing mess.

--------

“I’ve seen several Spider-man, are you sure none of them are your guy?” Bea says, taking a sip of your drink and adjusting her large hat for her ‘sexy witch’ costume.

“No, his costume is high quality like a professional,” you say with a slight lisp, feeling irritated that the fangs for your ‘sexy vampire’ costume are making you talk weirdly. You go to take them out but Mallory quickly stops you.

“Hey don’t take them out, it breaks the illusion!” you sigh and stare disheartened at your friend Mallory in her idea of a sexy costume ‘sexy Mothman’.

Bea had begged us all to dress sexy this go round and you and Mallory begrudgingly agreed so Mallory helped you get your vampire costume and even decorated you up with some blood, while she did her twist to a sexy mothman.

“Maybe he's not here? Running late?” Mallory questions

“The party is in full swing, maybe he's in the bathroom waiting for you,” Bea nudges playfully.

Sudden realization hits you and you quickly chug your drink down. Bea and Mallory look at each other and then back to you once you're done. Finishing the drink you slam the glass on the contour, “I think I know where he is”

At a hurried pace, you make your way from the bar in the back of the club to the back door where it all started. Nerves swirled around in your gut, you hoped he was here, you wanted to see him, feel him, talk to him. You didn't want this to be another one-night thing, you wanted to know who he was and you had an idea or well maybe it was just wishful thinking. Having a week to agonize about who he was you had a pricking thought of who you imagined him to be.

Making it to the door that started it all, you take a deep breath, take out the fake fangs, and open the door carefully this time making sure it doesn't fly open to hit any unsuspecting Spider-Men. Making your way out the door you don't see anyone and it causes your heart to sink. He's not coming.

Suddenly you feel a hand on your hip, while the other brushes your hair back to expose your neck. You are scared at first till you hear that same honeyed voice “Glad you learned to open doors carefully kitty.”

Surrendering to his touch you let his lips caress your neck, “I'm not a cat anymore, I'm a vampire.” turning you see that half up spiderman mask with that same sly smirk, you wrap your arms around his neck “I see you're still Spider-Man”

He laughs and backs you deeper into the alley pressing you against the wall “Well, I wanted you to be about to recognize me”

His lips quickly find yours kissing you passionately. Feeling his hands on your ass he swiftly lifts you making, you instantly wrap your legs around him. Looking around you're a little surprised “Really? In the alley? You're kinda the expansionist huh?”

He quickly catches your lips in another searing kiss then you feel his hand eagerly pawing underneath your dress, and then he stops suddenly. “Oh, you're a dirty girl. No panties tonight?”

“I figured they would get in the way,” you say with a playful shrug.

He quickly lifts your dress more and starts to finger your already wet cunt. Moaning and squeezing your legs tighter around him you give into the familiar stretch.

“Already so wet for me, pretty girl you're just perfect for me.”

Kissing on your neck he's already rutting into you, it seems like he's as eager as you are. Your soaked cunt was getting his suit's crouch wet as he continued to rub into you, maybe it was him or the fact that you two could easily get caught by a wandering pedestrian, but you were burning with need.

“Please...I need you…” you beg breathlessly

He kisses your lips quickly putting his suit pants down. Looking at him confused he just smiles, “What? I made adjustments for easy access, just for you kid.”

Finally freeing his cock he has you hold on tightly to him as he swiftly rolls a condom on. Safe sex is hot sex, right? While sucking and kissing your neck to your collarbones he rubs his cock in between your folds making sure you're wet and shaking with need.

“Come on spidy, I need you…”

With the last bit of begging leaving your trembling lips, he pushes in between your folds into your soaked heat with a loud groan. Thrusting in and out of you you can't help but moan and clench down on his length.

“Ah, y/n…you feel so good…”

As soon as your name slips from his lips he stops his thrusting and stills. Looking down with wide eyes your mouth is agape, “did…Did you just say my name?”

Hesitating for a moment he tries to find the words but suddenly he's met with your lips crashing down to his eagerly devouring him. With the passionate kiss, he fucks into you faster than before breaking the kiss and grabbing your ass hard to thrust into you harder. Getting all your breath thrust out, you can hardly speak as you approach your high.

“So you know, ah, my name?”

He nods breathlessly continuing his rutting, cock throbbing. “Yeah, your costume, doesn’t hide your identity, Fuck!”

Throwing your head back from the feeling of how deep he is, your moaning and confessing your own secrets as he fucks your roughly. Your Orgasm is about to rip through you, stars blur your vision.

“I know who, ah…who you are”

Kissing along your neck he faces you and whispers to your lips, “Yeah? Say my name then..”

Feeling the knot in your stomach about to snap it's now or never. Holding onto him tightly he's pushing his tip right into your sweet spot, bringing your moaning lips to his ear and whispering the name you're hoping to be him.

“Peter, Peter B Parker '' While you say his name you grab the rest of his mask and reveal the rest of his face, you are met with those heart-melting brown eyes. And that sexy smirk. There he was in all his glory, your mystery man- Peter B

“Well you're quite the little detective, you should get a reward kid…” You smirk and give him a kiss rocking your hips into him as he thrust harder. Breaking the kiss you moan, “Just make me cum Peter!”

“Anything you want, pretty girl,” Rutting deeper and grunting heavily in your ear, your knot is snapped and you're creaming all over Peter's cock. Fucking you through your high he finally cums from your tight cunt clenching around him trying to milk him dry.

Carefully he stands back up both of you staring and panting at each other. Peter quickly pulls your dress back down, then tucks his length away. His hands cup your face and he litters your face and neck with kisses, seems happy you figured his secret out.

“Have any more secrets for me, Peter?” You say smugly holding up his mask.

Peter smiles at you and takes the mask from you. Grabbing a hold of your hips once more he pulls you close to press against his chest. “I could tell you, or I could show you?”

-This should be good…

263 notes · View notes

crimsonbubble · 9 months

Text

praise kink and overstim with peter :((

peter fingering you while you're laying across his lap. he's given you so many orgasms but you just look so so pretty when you fall apart, so he can't help but give you more. your nails are digging into his forearm, not knowing where you want to push him away or pull him in deeper. trembling and squirming so much in his lap that he has to lay an arm across your stomach to keep you on his lap.

"good job, sweetheart."

"you can give daddy another one, yea?"

"being so good for me."

"that's it, just like that baby."

"you can take it, it's okay."

"feeling good? yea?"

"let me take care of you, honey."

#bubbly writes <3 #peter b parker #peter b parker headcanons #peter b parker imagines #peter b parker smut #peter b parker x reader #peter parker #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n #spiderverse x you #spiderverse x reader smut #spiderverse x y/n #spiderverse x reader

587 notes · View notes

cockdestroyer32 · 8 months

Text

it's rotten work.

peter b. parker x fem!reader

word count: 2615

summary: Peter's been a wreck after his divorce with MJ. Thankfully, you're there to look after him.

aka me just fantasizing about taking care of peter b. parker when he needed it and giving him the love he so very deserves.

a/n: yeah I write abt this loser now

Two months. That’s how long it’s been since Peter and MJ’s divorce. Two months of countless pizza orders and late-night fast food trips. You tried your best, of course, most days making lunch and dinner for Peter, but it still wouldn’t help his insurmountable need to shove oily fries drenched in high amounts of salt down his throat. Though he would gladly take them. His hand finding yours on the table, giving you a knowing look with his sad, tired eyes that you’d gotten used to seeing so damn often on him. His own way of a thank you. Two months of coming home to Peter’s place to find him sprawled out on his couch, his head lying on his own arm and still wearing shoes. The TV would be on playing the most random channel. He’d be staring at it, but if you turned it off he wouldn’t even blink. Two months of trying your best to be there for him.

You were still getting used to the new apartment. For as long as you could remember, Peter and MJ lived in the same house for the past 15 years. You’d gotten used to it. It was nice. Two stories, wooden floors, big dining room. They’d have Thanksgivings there, it was almost a tradition. The turkey was served and everyone gathered around, talking and laughing about nothing. Peter was happy then, at least most of the time.

This apartment was none of that. It was way smaller, one small cube covering kitchen, living room and bedroom, with a room to the left including the tiny bathroom- which has a bathtub? You never quite understood that, what is it with Americans and putting bathtubs in their already tiny bathrooms?- not to mention it was unkept. The dishes practically overflowing, two pizza boxes, one awkwardly thrown to the counter, not even closed, its gaping mouth allowing you to spy the damp spots the hot pizza left on the cardboard box, and the other shoved inside the trash, which was also nearly overflowing. A barely-eaten cereal bowl rested on the sad excuse of a dining table, some colorful circles creeping out of the white liquid. It was more milk than cereal. And both ingredients also stood there, not put back on their respective places.

Peter does not have enough money to just waste perfectly good milk.

You grab the carton and open the refrigerator, the light illuminating the kitchen/living room/bedroom area. God, even the refrigerator was sad. An already open can of soda standing lonely to the side, feeling unsafe on the grids of the shelf, a container of cheese at the top, four eggs to the side, and untouched lettuce to the middle. You place the milk inside, now making company to the lonely soda, and shut the refrigerator door, making your way back to the couch. As you do you pass by the wall of the apartment that includes Peter’s attempt at decorating, one only possible after much pleading by you that the place might feel more like home if he did so.

They were pictures. Pictures on the wall. Four to be specific. All taped to the wall with double-sided tape. They were all scattered like corn and asymmetrical. How and why did he manage to do that? You don’t know. Was it awful? Yes.

But you were still excited when you’d shown up to his place and found them there.

This was only a fraction of the pictures he had back in his place with MJ. Their old living room had once been full of pictures of them and the memories they made together. But these were the ones he took and remained. The middle picture was one of you and Peter, back when you traveled to Barbados. You stood behind him, hugging him with one arm from behind, your chin resting on his shoulder as you both smiled at the camera. The one to the side was a picture he took of you on your birthday, you wore one of those birthday headbands, a huge smile spreading across your face as you saw one of your other friends bringing you your cake. It was slightly blurry, not one you’d usually have on your wall but beautiful regardless. When you’d seen that picture, your finger reached out to touch it, surprised it was there, and you turned around to look at Peter, who refused to look at you, clearly embarrassed. The third one is a picture of May, 2 years before she died, her grey hair perfectly framing her smiling face, and the fourth one of Peter and May, sitting on her couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulder and his head on hers.

Peter sits on the couch, his ankles extended out, looking like he wanted to trip someone. He wore the same grey sweatpants he always wore, and his sweatshirt was stained. The bags under his eyes were prominent, and his eyebrows were furrowed. His gaze was fixated on the TV, but he actually seemed to be paying attention this time, so that’s progress…right?

You threw your body on the couch beside his, letting out a sigh and looking at the screen. He was watching a documentary on…pandas? You don’t comment on it. Or on his stained shirt. Or on the cereal bowl. Or on the milk. You just stare at the TV.

“I’m fine,” He says, his voice raspy.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You don’t reply. He’s used to you asking the same question, and you’re used to hearing the same answer. You both know he’s not fine, that he hasn’t been fine in a while, but that there’s not much you can do but let time pass, to let the wound heal as best as it can, leaving only a scar, that at least won’t sting as much anymore. You know Peter. You’ve known him for years. You know his moods, you know what makes him laugh, what makes him angry, his mannerisms and what they mean, his favorite foods, his favorite flavor of cake…you know when he needs love.

Except for on days like this. On days where he’s grumpy and barely speaks at all. Days where his arms are crossed and he’s always tapping his foot. Sometimes he just wants to be left alone, sometimes he wants as much physical affection as possible. You don’t know.

So, you leave a hint.

You place your hand next to his on the couch- they have always been so rough, so calloused, yet always felt nice- and you lift your pinky, it grazing across the back of his hand. Up, and down. You do that once before stopping it at the bottom of his hand, just next to his pinky. If he wants to take it, he can take it, if not, he doesn’t have do anything.

You feel the back of his hand being taken away from the tip of your finger, before his palm finds yours and he entwines your fingers together, giving your hand a light squeeze. Yours is smaller than his, and certainly softer. You don’t look at each other, you don’t have to. You keep your eyes on the panda eating bamboo and feel his thumb caress the side of your hand.

If that wasn’t clear, it’s been a rough two months. And you’ve been there for rough months. You were there for when Peter and MJ would have tough arguments, for when being Spider-Man started being just a little too much for him, for when he couldn’t save everyone, for when Aunt May died. But this? This was bad. Almost as much as May’s death. He just…fell into a hole. And you don’t blame him either. He’d been married to Mary Jane for fifteen years. Fifteen years. Having to separate from someone you spent more than a decade with must be one of the hardest things ever, and you couldn’t exactly say you understood.

It wasn’t all bad though. One time, you decided to watch a movie together. You let Peter choose the movie. Horror. You were never quite used to it, but were you gonna say no to him? No, and he knew it. About 40 minutes in, there was a scene where the main character was inspecting his house after having heard a strange noise. He walks around for a while, letting the tension build until suddenly the monster rises behind him. It’d been about 11pm at that point and you let out a loud yelp, followed by your hand slapping over your mouth as you realize what you did. You did a slow turn towards Peter, finding his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly agape, before he burst out into laughter. The sound rang through your ears like your favorite song. God, it’d been so long since you heard that laugh. If you knew it’d happen you’d grabbed your phone and started recording it immediately. But at that point it’d been enough, and you couldn’t help but start laughing too.

Now, you feel Peter’s grip slowly loosening on yours and you turn your head towards him. His eyes are closed, and his eyebrows are more relaxed now, though he’s not asleep just yet. From this angle you could perfectly see his roman nose, the bridge sticking out in all of its wonder, and the little bend to the side, where he’d broken it so many times his healing factors had just given up. He hated it. You always loved it, and he knew it. You leaned in slightly.

“Pete…” You whisper, “Pete, let’s get you to bed.”

He murmured some nonsense. A chuckle leaves your lips and you reach for his arm.

“Pete, if you wanna sleep we gotta get you to bed, come on.”

“O…kay…” You get up from the couch and place both hands on his arms, motioning for him to get up. When he does he rests his head on yours, and you drape your arm over his shoulder, leading him to his bed. He drops his body on it and oh he looks adorable. His arms curved in front of him almost in a praying motion, and his knees slightly bent. You notice his shoes are still on and reach to take them off, he doesn’t even move as you do so, and you set them down neatly on the floor. You know what’s next, you’ve gotten used to it: you crawl on the bed beside him, and wrap an arm around him from behind, the other creeping from under his body so you can hug him properly. You bury your face on his shoulder and squeeze him tight, your legs lying just behind his.

Peter likes being the little spoon. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if it was born out of an extreme need to receive the physical affection he lost after his divorce. Those thoughts are quickly brushed off but everlasting, you probably shouldn’t be thinking about that. This happens every night now, to the point Peter doesn’t sleep without you anymore. If you take too long to crawl into bed, he tells you in a groggy voice, “Come hereeeee…”

One time you got up in the middle of the night to drink some water, and in comes Peter, wearing his grey pajama shirt, rubbing his eyes as he sleepily asks you, “Why'd you go?”

The first time you fell asleep cuddled together was a little over a month ago. Peter’d been quiet that entire day and you left him alone, figuring he just wanted time for his thoughts, until eventually you lifted a gentle hand, resting it against his shoulder as you asked, “You alright? Wanna talk?” And a few minutes later you found yourself holding a sobbing Peter, his hands desperately clutching to your back as you rubbed his, his face pressed against your chest as his own heaved. Wet trailings ran down your body and made your shirt damp, trailings that’d grow salty and sticky on your skin, but that’d you pay no attention to.

You don’t even know how long that lasted, you just held him for as long as he needed, until his weeping subsided and the sobs were replaced only by the shuddering breaths one gets after crying so desperately. Then even those went away, Peter’s breath completely evened out and calm. You noticed he was heavier in your arms, and whispered his name as you leaned your head down, looking for his face, only to be met with one of a sleeping Peter. His lashes were wet and eyes were shut and relaxed, as if he hadn’t just had a full breakdown in your arms. You stayed like this for a moment, wondering if he’d wake up, and knowing you didn’t have the heart to do it. Eventually you leaned back on the couch, your back resting against it as your head was placed awkwardly on its stiff arm. He slid down on your body a bit as you did, his face now at your stomach, and he tightened his grip and pressed his nose into your skin. You still don’t know if he remembered he did that.

And now Peter has you climbing into bed beside him every night, trying your best to envelop his body with yours even though your frame is much tinier.

You turn your head to him as you feel him shift and take a breath.

“I wanna…be big spoon…” You can barely make out the words due to his raspy mumbling, and before you could even process them, Peter was turning around and grabbing your arm, flipping you on your side as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. Tight as if to ensure you wouldn’t try to escape his grip.

Woah. Is this what MJ felt every night when she was with Peter? Again, probably not something you should be thinking about, but still. This? This comfortable?

If you were MJ you would have never given up on this. Ever. No matter what.

God, he’s strong. I mean, you knew he was strong, he’s Spider-Man for crying out loud. But you’d never thought about how that came into play in moments like this, where he could wrap his arms around you with such a firm yet tender grip that it felt like absolutely nothing could tear you two apart.

Though you were still quite a bit frozen. Peter had never done that before. This was new and sudden. And slowly you could feel that information seep back into Peter’s presumably more awake mind as well, with the way he turned his head slowly to the left, and his body straightened and stiffened on your back.

“Uhh, is this okay?” He asked.

“Yeah, it’s alright,” You replied. He was probably awake right now, mortified by his own actions but too comfortable and scared to pull away. And so were you. So you placed your hand on his arm, and gently ran it back and forth, telling him you really were okay with this, and if anything you wanted him to keep it up. His body remained frozen for at least 3 seconds until he lifted his arm from under your hand, and placed his palm over it, enlacing your fingers together. He pressed your arm in the front of your body and buried his nose in your neck. It sent a few shivers down your spine, you won’t lie. But you just took a deep breath and toughed it out, closing your eyes as well and relaxing. His breath on your neck slowly lulled you to sleep.

Hopefully, this is your new night routine.

#peter b parker #peter b. parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x y/n #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman #spider man into the spider verse #spider man itsv fic #spider man x reader

148 notes · View notes