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#plus-sized peter parker
bitchyycapricorn · 10 months
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Jealousy
College Frat!Peter x Reader
Summary: Blurb over a jealous Flash secretly watching reader ride Frat!Peter
Flash is absolutely obsessed with you. Everything about you in his eyes is perfect. And It just so happened that Flash was lucky enough to land a spot at the same college as you. Of course, his luck ran out there since Peter Parker also attended the same college as the both of you. Infact, Flash found himself in a way rooming with Parker, in a frat house that is.
See, nobody was surprised at Flash’s draw towards being apart of a frat, but Peter really took everyone by surprise. That included you as well. But, something about you loved the attitude and cocky confidence Peter gained in his little frat.
That attitude is exactly what lead you to where you were. Hovering above Peter’s naked body as you bounce up and down on his hard cock, taking in every inch of him. Your hips rocking back and forth, grinding roughly into Peters while his large hands grip your hips.
Flash had gone looking for Peter at the exact same time, hoping to urge the boy into playing a round of truth or drink with him and the others. It was to his surprise that when he opened the door, without knocking, he found you in there as well.
Flash watches you ride Peter in disbelief. He watches the way you throw your head back and moan Peter’s name quietly. He watches the way Peter’s hands begin to explore up and down your body. He watches the way you rise up on Peter’s thick length before dropping down again with force.
A bitter taste fills Flashes mouth as he analyzes the scene in front of him. It was the fact that he was now not only aware, but has to watch as Peter stuffs you full with his cock. It was the way he now knows just how cockdrunk you get for Peter as he murmurs dirty things to you.
Flash listens to the way your erotic moans fill the room. The way Peter calls you his filthy slut. His cock whore. His dirty little girl.
Each phrase makrs Flashes blood boil. Rage and disgust filling his body, yet he couldn’t look away. Not when you’re cumming around Peters cock with a cry. Not when Peter is fucking up into you so hard before he filling you with his cum.
2K notes · View notes
noobsquasher · 2 years
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Love your writing omg, can you pls pls write one where y/n has never had an orgasm before and is really innocent so her best friend Peter (who’s kinda dominant) helps her by going down and fingering her??
Say Yes To Heaven ✮
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Word count: 3.1k
Warnings: unprotected sex, praising, degrading, fingering, oral sex (reading receiving), swearing, etc
Summary: Your best friend, Peter is shocked to hear that you've never had an orgasm before. So in return, he offers to give you your first.
Notes: Peter Parker x Female Reader
All characters in this story are 18+
I know. 6 months since I've uploaded something, but here's another toe-curling smut for you <3 thanks for all love I've been receiving even though I've been gone.
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“Which one is this for?” You asked, holding the foreign Lego piece, not knowing where to place it. 
“Oh! That’s the last piece I was looking for. Put that on the top, right here.” He pointed to the arch of the plastic building, indicating where to put it. 
You leaned over, carefully moving forward to gently connect the Lego pieces. 
“There! Voila!” You cheered, impressed that you finished about a quarter of your Hogwarts Lego project with Peter. 
“Great! Now we have about… 1,500 more pieces to go!” 
You took a deep breath, already tired of how long you guys have been building this. You took a look outside, the sky was painted with deep rose and tangerine, slight hints of indigo parading the ends of the horizon. 
“Pete, let’s take a break. I’m hungry.” You stood up, making your way towards his kitchen. 
“Uh, sure. What do you wanna eat? I have…” he followed you before opening his fridge, checking to see what he had in store, “Well, I um… I don’t really have much. May hasn’t gone shopping yet.” 
“What about pizza?” You proposed. 
“I have pizza dough. You wanna make it ourselves?” 
“Make pizza with you? The last time you were in charge of cooking, the fire department showed up not even an hour later.” 
“Hey! That was one time like forever ago!” 
“That happened last week, Peter.” 
He narrowed his eyes at you, huffing. You giggled. 
“Look, it’ll be fun! Us two, cooking, creating something homemade. Come on.” Those big brown eyes of his practically begged you with just the bat of an eyelash. 
You gazed at him, a smile creeping up your face. 
“Fine. But I’m in charge of oven duty, not you.”
Afterward, you two started your cooking adventure. Having Peter even be in the kitchen was already a fire hazard, so you took on most of the work, letting him do the easy parts. 
You watched intently as he rolled out the pizza dough, a pretty smile on his face as he enjoyed the activity. 
You couldn’t help but get lost in the minuscule act, something so small doing so much to your heart. You felt pure infatuation run through your veins, your eyes practically twinkling as you watched the person you loved most. 
You knew crushing on your best friend would have you end up in a ditch, a hole deep and wide enough to keep you from crawling out, a dark abyss that held all your pent-up feelings. Emotions that pricked you each time you saw Peter’s heart-wrenching smile. 
You didn’t know if he liked you back, you wondered if it was even a possibility, hoped there was a small part of him that felt the same way you did. 
You’ve known him forever, he’s been your sidekick since you could remember. Even when you found out that he was Spiderman, you still stuck with him through thick and thin, never leaving his side. 
You never thought your relationship would turn up the way it has, but now you are stuck. Adhered to this impending adoration you hold for Peter fucking Parker. 
Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t even realize when Peter tried to catch your attention.
“Hey? You alright, my love?” He looked concerned, slight fear on his face. 
“What?” 
“Why do you have that look on your face?” 
“Huh? What look?” 
He gazed at you, studying your features, eyes marked to your chest, 
“Nothing. Um, I’m done with the dough. I already put the sauce on it.” 
You took a deep breath, reaching over the kitchen island to grab the sliced cheese. 
“Here, put the mozzarella on it.” 
When the pizza was prepared, you took the pan and placed it inside the oven, setting it. 
“Okay, we just gotta wait a little while, and then it’s done.” You announced. 
“Alright. So… what do you wanna do?” Peter leaned against the counter, looking down at you. His stance sent strange chills down your spine, you gulped, trying to get your conscience together. 
“I- I dunno. What do you wanna do?” 
“Wanna watch a movie?” 
“If you say Star-“ 
“Star Wars. There are new episodes of the man-“ 
“No, Peter. I’m not watching that shit again.” 
“Why not?! You made me sit through five Twilight movies!” 
“Don’t act like you're not on team Edward!” 
“I’m team, Alice!” 
You gazed at him, a grin staining your lips before you rolled your eyes, letting out a laugh. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, the two of you cackling together. 
“Okay, alright, we don’t need to watch Star Wars again. For your sake.” He put his hand on your arm, squeezing it. 
You gazed up at him, your cheeks suddenly heating up. 
“Uh… let’s just talk, until the pizza is done.” 
He nodded his head, walking back to the living room to grab a seat on the couch. 
You sat next to him, keeping a safe enough distance from him, for your sake, and your panties, of course. 
“So, tell me something about yourself.” 
You grinned, 
“You know everything about me, Pete. You’ve known me forever.” 
“Yeah, but people still hold secrets. Tell me one of yours.” 
You kept your eyes on him, crossing your arms. 
I’m in love with you. 
“You first, Parker.” 
“Hm… well, this secret is one of my worst. Truly horrific.” You tilted your head at him, “I’m… I’m a Leo man.” He confessed, putting his head into his hands as if he was terrified at what he just shared. 
You gasped in mock offense, 
“Leo?! Oh god, no!” You wailed, covering your eyes. 
He laughed, shaking his head, 
“I know… I know, It’s my biggest character flaw.” 
You giggled,
“My biggest character flaw is not being able to have an orgasm.” You admitted, sharing a personal confession with Peter. 
His brows knit together, his gaze shifting. 
“What do you mean?” 
“Well… I’ve only had sex once, and the guy didn’t make me finish. And I’ve you know… experimented with myself before, but I’ve never really had that big O every woman talks about. I’m kinda… embarrassed. I feel like there’s something wrong with me, you know? Guys can get off so easily, but then when it comes to women who are inexperienced and who don’t know much about their bodies, it’s a whole other situation.” 
Peter listened intently, showing care in what you had to say. 
“So, you’ve never had a real orgasm?” He gently asked. 
“Not really.”
He kept his eyes on you, analyzing your body language. 
You felt the invisible tension between you two wrap around your neck, practically suffocating you with your vulnerability. You felt your heart race, wanting to change the subject. 
“Anyway, uh… I um, I think the pizza is ready.” You hastily stood up, making your way towards the kitchen. 
“It's not ready yet, but it smells good.” You say, inhaling the mouth-watering scent that’s filled the room. 
You felt Peter creep behind you, placing a careful hand on your waist. You didn’t jump at his touch, instead, you melted, leaning towards him. 
“You haven’t had an orgasm yet?” His tone held genuine concern as if he really cared about your situation. 
“It’s- it’s nothing, Peter. You shouldn’t-“ 
“Can I… can I show you how it feels?” 
You were nearly thrown back, almost dumbfounded at his words. 
“W-what?” 
“I’m a firm believer that every woman should be able to have a good orgasm every once in a while. You are such a hard worker, honey. You put in so much care and effort into your everyday life and into the people you love and… and I just can’t see how you haven’t blown up with all that stress you must have.” You were completely starstruck by Peter at the moment, you thought your feet had molded into the floor, “Let me… let me take care of you. Show you how good it feels to finally let go, and have that earth-shattering orgasm you’ve been waiting for.” 
You stood staring at him, unable to open your mouth. Had he just said what you thought he did? Propose an offer that would completely change your life. 
“Peter, you- you don’t need to do that for me. I know you care about me and all, but it’s not your responsibility.” 
“I know, but this feels like it is. I want you to have this experience, to step into a new path in your life.” 
You gazed into his honeyed orbs, contemplating the idea. 
This would be a whole new venture for you, a life-altering experience that you’ve been dying for. Denying the offer seemed like a foolish choice. 
“…It’s okay if you don’t-“ 
“I want to. I want to experience it.” 
He blinked, 
“Are you sure? Like one hundred percent positive?” 
“You're right, Peter. I need to experience this, I need to let go for once.” 
His eyes never left yours as a smile stained his lips. 
“So, we’re doing this? We’re really doing it?” He questioned, leaning closer to you. His chestnut orbs sparkled with underlying excitement, as did yours. 
“We’re really doing it.” 
-
As soon as Peter peeled off your sticky panties, your mind started to ramble. 
Has Peter done this before? If so, how come he hasn’t told me? Does he like me too? He wouldn’t do this just as a friendly gesture, would he? How does this affect our relationship from now on? Is he—
“Hey… hey, you're alright. I’m here, Angel.” The nickname slipped out his lips so smoothly, so perfectly, it nearly stopped your heart. 
He was so gentle with you, rubbing your thighs carefully, whispering soft affirmations to soothe you, treating you like something so fragile, a thin layer of glass. 
“Are you sure you wanna keep going?” You felt your heart thump throughout your body as you looked down at him, his face inches away from your velvety folds. 
“I mean- my pussy is already in your face so…” he chuckled, his warm laugh calming you. 
“Alright… if I’m hurting you or anything, please speak up. Don’t be afraid to talk to me.” 
“I will don’t worry.” 
He took one more look at you before his thumb trailed to your throbbing clit, drawing slight circles around it. The instant shock had your head thrown back, soft moans escaping your lips. 
“Shit… you're already soaked. Did I do this to you?” He continued his movements, playing with you like a guitar, pulling each string with pure delicacy, with one prominent goal in mind. You whimpered, breath heavy. 
“Tell me, Angel. Who did this to you?” 
Suddenly, his finger sunk inside you, almost too easy. You let out a roar, chest rising and falling as your gaze narrowed to the curly-haired boy between your legs. 
“You! You did, Peter! All you!” The pleasure was overwhelming, you felt your entire body heat up, your mind spinning. 
His fingers curled inside you, hitting that sweet spot of yours. You gasped, gripping onto his bed sheets as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. 
“Good girl… such a sweet girl. You like that?” He praises, fingers digging deeper. You can’t help but continue to moan, eyes closed as you take in how fucking amazing this feels. Suddenly, you feel Peter’s hand slap your throbbing clit. You yelp, looking back at him. 
“Eyes down here, baby. Look at me while I make you come.” His sugared demands came as a surprise to you. 
Never have you seen Peter in this light before. It makes you feel a type of way, an instant feeling of desire. All you wanted was him. All of him. Every single inch of his cock just buried inside you. 
“Peter! Oh- oh fucking god!” You felt something burn within you, complete ecstasy running through your veins as Peter’s thick fingers continued to destroy you. 
“Talk to me, princess. Tell me what you want.” Your eyes practically burned into one another, Peter’s chestnut orbs were filled with lust. You wished he could always look at you like this. 
“I want- shit, I want to come. Please, please let me come. I’m begging you!” He smiles, diving into you as his hot tongue starts to draw circles around your little bundle of nerves. Harsh moans escape your lips, your legs starting to shake. 
It was as if his lips were a work of magic, moving them in such an inconceivable rhythm that you thought your mind was going to explode. With how he was devouring your soaked pussy and playing with that honeyed spot within you, it felt like you finally reached nirvana. 
Is this what heaven feels like? 
“Such a sweet pussy,” he groans, fingers hooked inside you, 
“God, you taste so fucking good. I could eat this pussy all night. Shit. Why didn’t you let me fuck you sooner?” He dives back into his succulent meal. 
You couldn’t answer him as crying out your moans was the only thing you could do. You started to wonder if this was really happening. Was Peter about to give you your first orgasm? 
You even realize that he’s been humping the mattress this whole time, fucking out his throbbing boner. 
“God! Peter! I’m gonna- I’m gonna come!” Your chest thumps rigorously, all your nerves start to light a fuse inside you. You start to feel lightheaded, bliss starting to kick in as Peter continues to play with your body like his own goddamn toy. “I’m- I’m gonna-“ 
Suddenly, he stops. You quickly look at him, all your limbs trembling as you whine. 
“Why- why did you-“ 
“All this time I’ve been waiting, just fucking dreaming about this baby. 
Now that I’ve got you, I’ll never let you go. I want- no, I need to feel you wrapped around my cock. I gotta make a mess inside you if you’ll let me. I’ll promise to make you cum on my cock for all eternity if you do.” 
You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. You needed at least three to five business days to process what he just said. 
“Please, babygirl. I’m begging you.” 
You laid still, those glossy orbs of yours stuck to the man before you. 
“If you don’t want that it’s alright, I’ll just—“ his ramblings were cut short as your lips connected to his, kissing him with such passion that tiny whimpers escaped Peter. You gripped onto his curls, pulling him into you. 
“Shut up and fuck the living shit outta me.” 
-
To say that Peter’s cock was big was an understatement. You’ve never seen something so beautiful. It was thick, long, veiny, and absolutely angelic. 
“Holy shit.” You blurt, eyes locked onto his leaking tip. 
“What? Is it too big? Or too—“
“No- Peter. Your dick is so… wow.” 
“Really? Do you think so? I always thought it was—“ You shut him up again with your puffy lips, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him deep inside you. 
“I don’t want you to go easy on me. Just fuck me like there’s no tomorrow, baby. I need you.” You plead before ripping off your top, your breasts falling in front of him. His chocolate orbs immediately stared at them. 
“Can I suck on them?” He asks softly, his hand grasping onto your pebbled nipple. You nod your head, biting your lip in anticipation. 
He lays you back down onto his sheets, his pink lips immediately attaching to your chest. You whine with pleasure, his hand reaching down to your abused clit to play with it again. 
His candied kisses mark your body with much love as if he’s branding you.
Never have you felt this euphoric.
You feel his cock brush over your cunt, as if he was asking permission to completely indulge inside you. 
“You have my word, Petey. Please let me feel you.” 
His pupils widen before he catches a kiss on your lips. As your tongues dance together, his large length slips inside you, stretching you out with blazing felicity. You both moan in desire, wanting more. 
His thrusts increase as he brings your knees up to his chest, completely fucking you insane like how you begged him to. 
The bed bangs against the wall as he pounds his cock within you, your cries filling the room. 
“Oh! Just like that! Fuck, Peter!” 
“You feel so fucking good. My god… such a tight pussy. Jesus Christ— I could cum already.” He groans, kissing you. You whine against his lips, arms wrapping around his back to pull him deeper. 
“You fucking slut. You love my cock, don’t you? Can’t get enough?” 
“Never! Oh, my fucking—“ you didn’t think he could sink any further, but when his cock hit your cervix, you completely lost your mind. 
You could feel him throb within you, your walls gripping onto him for dear life, never wanting to let him go. 
Harsh claps ran around his bedroom, you were definitely gonna feel the aches in the morning. 
Peter was right, why didn’t you let him fuck you sooner? His cock was addictive, this was a feeling you could never get over. 
You started to go numb as he pounded you senseless, utter babbles were all you could make out. 
“Already cock-drunk, baby? That dumb brain of yours can’t handle my pretty cock? Huh?” He teased. 
You honestly didn’t even know what he said. All you could feel was that huge cock inside you just absolutely tearing you up from the inside, and out. 
You felt that burning feeling again, soon realizing that you were gonna make a mess on him. 
“Gonna let me feel you? Come on, Angel. Let me feel you.” 
Suddenly, it happened. 
Your back brutally arched as all your muscles tightened, your intense orgasm raging throughout your body. You screamed Peter’s name like a damn prayer, trembling harshly as your cunt gripped Peter’s cock with all its glory. It was unlike anything else you’ve ever endured. Staining his thick length with your saccharine cum is what enlightenment must feel like. 
He grunts, “That’s it baby, that’s it. Good girl, such a pretty slut for me, yeah? Tell me you’re all mine.”
“I’m- I’m all yours. I swear. I swear, Petey.”
He smiles before crying with triumph as he finishes inside you, painting your walls with his delicate seed. 
As the high died down, you couldn’t help but feel fulfilled. A smile pricked your lips as you started to laugh, euphoria clouding your head. Peter looked over as you were giggling like a maniac. He too busted out chuckling as it was contagious. 
“Why- why are you laughing?” 
“Because… because that was the best sex I’ve ever had! I feel so… so fucking happy.” You confessed, a huge grin attached to your lips. 
Peter blushes, softly laughing before catching a much-needed kiss on your lips. His kiss was filled with tenderness, sweet love fusing between you. 
Suddenly, a burning smell pricks your nose. 
“Peter,” you try to break the kiss but he doesn’t stop, wanting to caress you forever, “…Peter— what’s that smell?” 
“Huh? What… oh shit. The pizza!” He jumps out of bed, running butt-naked towards his kitchen. 
You sigh as you shake your head.
“Call the fucking fire department again!” 
———
Copyright © of noobsquasher 2024
7K notes · View notes
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Can I get a 7 with Steve Rogers or Peter Parker? I love the nice guys being angsty
And congrats on the 5000
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.⋆。Noise。⋆.
Peter Parker x plus size reader
You don’t like the quiet, Peter does
Warnings: angst, noise sensitivity, college!Peter, mutual pining, hurt/comfort
Minors DNI
Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library
5k Follower Celebration
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Silence was your worst enemy, although you never really understood why you hated it. Whether that be the awkward silence during a lull in conversation or at 3am when the city quieted down. There had to be some kind of noise around you for you to feel at ease, usually it was music from your headphones or the chatter of other people but that wasn’t the case in Peter Parker’s room.
Somehow his room was the one place in all of New York that seemed to be above all the noise of the city. There were no sirens or voices or just random noises from the subway. Just silence.
And it was slowly driving you crazy. 
At first, the sound of your fingernails tapping your keyboard soothed you. It was rhythmic and just quiet enough to not disturb your best friend as he was studying. Then you moved onto bouncing your leg, which given that you were wearing socks and the whole room was carpeted, you could make almost no noise.
You sighed and shifted in your seat, becoming antsy as the silence seemed to close in around you. You could feel Peter’s eyes flick up to you occasionally but he never said anything so you started doing the only thing you could think of to create some noise. You began to hum.
The vibrations rumbled through your chest, immediately soothing the panicked feelings around your heart. Your shoulders dropped with relief and you finally felt like you were able to concentrate on the work in front of you instead of just mindlessly typing away to appear busy. 
You switched songs every 30 seconds or so, nodding your head along to the beat you were creating. Your usual smile began to pull at your lips as, unnoticed by you, Peter’s face fell and his eyebrows scrunched. 
He cleared his throat but you didn’t hear. “Y/N?” You looked back at him, pausing your humming for just a second. “Do you think you could be a little quieter please?” 
“Yeah, sorry about that.” You responded bashfully with a giggle. Peter breathed a sigh of relief and sat back against the wall behind his bed. He gave you a half-smile to which you winked at him before turning back to your work.
Things were quiet again save for the occasional turning of a page or alert on your phones and you started to feel that discomfort creeping in again. Like a massive weight slowly coming down onto your torso, the anxiety grew once more. Your eyes darted over your essay but you couldn’t comprehend any of the words that you had written.
Your breathing picked up as your heart pounded loudly in your ears though it did not give you the relief that other noises would have. You swallowed thickly, clamping your jaw shut tightly. Maybe a little noise would be okay, you thought as you brought a hand to your chest to where your shirt didn’t cover.
The soft tapping of your fingers against your bare skin was barely louder than your racing heartbeat but it worked. Your body eased as you picked up the pace, finally getting the relief you desperately needed. You hadn’t even noticed Peter’s frown deepening, the vein in his neck twitching with aggravation.
“How are you this fucking annoying?” Everything stopped and your veins turned to ice. 
“I-I’m sorry.” You managed to squeak out around the massive lump in your throat. Even Peter looked shocked at what he said, his brown eyes wide with terror. “I think I should head home, my roommate will get worried if I’m not there after dark.”
You tried to grab your tote bag from the floor but before you could even touch the canvas handle, Peter had sprung from the bed and caught your hand. “Wait I didn’t mean-“ You shook your head and swallowed back your tears, you couldn’t talk about this now.
“I know I’m noisy okay, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” You tried to pull yourself away but his grip tightened. “Peter.” Your voice wobbled but he didn’t give you an inch.
“No, no I’m sorry. I was being an asshole.” He gently pulled you towards him and you let him wrap you up in his strong arms, needing some sort of comfort even from the person that had hurt you in the first place.
“Then why did you say that?” You murmured, slowly melting into his chest. Peter held your wide hips gently, brushing the tops of your thighs through your clothes with his thumbs.
He sighed heavily and let his forehead rest on yours, a regular gesture between the two of you that was far from platonic. “I’ve had a rough day. There was a robbery this morning and that made me late to my lab and then some asshole thought it was funny to use a dog whistle right outside. And I just- I was overstimulated and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, not when you were really trying.” 
You whimpered as a tear slid down your cheek. “I’m sorry beautiful, I really am. Let me make it up to you.” His right hand came up and gently wiped it away, keeping his hand on your soft jaw as he urged you to look into his eyes.
“How?” His smile was almost unsure, seemingly a little wary of how honestly he should respond.
“Let me order some food and we can watch Percy Jackson.”
“And cuddle?”His smile grew as his eyes twinkled. He ducked forward and gently kissed the tip of your nose.
“Whatever you want, I’m at your mercy tonight.” You giggled.
“And tomorrow too, I’m still kind of hurt.” Peter just squeezed your hip.
“Anything for you.” Maybe the silence wasn’t so bad, as long as Peter was quiet with you.
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motherofdogs1010 · 4 months
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Need to Know I (Peter Parker x Reader)
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Inspired by Doja Cat's "Need to Know"
Summary: When she was ready to get back out on the dating scene after dumping a certain Winter Soldier, Y/N was a woman ready to get back out there. She just never expected to find herself in a relationship with a certain nerdy spider.
Warnings: older woman/younger man, small age gap, everyone is adult age!, cheater Bucky, fratboy Peter, consensual sex, semi public sex, heavy smut, drinking, swearing, unprotected sex Look at Masterlist for more warnings
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part 1
TWO MONTHS AGO
Y/N downed the shot of tequila that Tony had passed her, laughing as she felt the burn in her throat and hearing Tony cheering. Say what you want about Tony, but he knew how to party as he had taken them to some nightclub that he bought for shits and giggles.
"Enjoying the burn", Tony teased, Y/N laughed.
"It's the tequila sweats that I hate", she said back.
Standing up from the little VIP booth Tony had rented for them all, Y/N scoped out her surroundings. She saw Nat dragging a bashful Steve to the dance floor, Steve was awkwardly moving around before he finally got the hang of it and began dancing with Nat. Y/N laughed as she watched Steve get down on the dance floor, she spotted Vision (who had his human form on) with Wanda near the bar as Wanda was getting another drink.
"Are you having fun?"
Y/N looked in the direction to see Peter standing there with a grin, Y/N smiled back at him.
"I wondered where you were", Y/N responded, "I always forget your 21."
"My babyface makes it that way", Peter joked.
Y/N had to admit, Peter Parker was a very attractive man, especially right now with his hair gelled back, a white button down that had the sleeves rolled up and dark slacks. Tony said Peter had changed a lot since high school, having managed to join a fraternity in his first year of college; she had only met Peter in the last year so hearing that he was anything but confident before was a little shocking since he walked around like a little mini Tony sometimes.
Peter moved a little closer to her as Tony announced that he was going to join Wanda at the bar.
Sam and Clint were missing, both men having taken some time off to go visit their families, especially for Sam since he wanted to be there for one of his nephew's birthdays.
Although, the person that everyone seemed to ignore that wasn't there was a certain Winter Soldier, but it seemed everyone was on the rocks with the man at the moment. But cheating and immediately bringing around the girl you cheated with will do that, won't it?
Of course that was the main reason behind Tony bringing nearly all of them out to the club was because of her confiding in Tony about being ready to get back out there. She felt no issue confiding in Tony considering how close of friends they were, she was coming out in his upcoming wedding to Pepper in just a few months time.
"It's a cute babyface", Y/N teased, Peter chuckled.
"I'm glad you're having fun", Peter said, "you deserve it."
Y/N smiled as she tugged up the neckline of her red mini dress, the fabric clinging to her large breasts and hips. It was an off the shoulder dress that she chose just for the occasion with long sleeves and paired with some red bottoms that Nat was letting her borrow.
Y/N watched as Peter looked a bit indecisive as if he was second guessing himself before he blurted out, "Would you like to dance?"
"Don't you think you should be dancing with someone your own age?" she teased before Peter snaked a toned arm around her hips.
"Age is just a number, right?" Peter answered with a wink.
Y/N felt surprised, she was older than Peter by 7 years and she wouldn't be an idiot to say she hadn't noticed the younger man's eyes occasionally roaming her figure. But she never thought much of it considering she had been in a relationship with Bucky, but that bridge was burned a lot time ago.
She was here to have fun, dance a little, drink... there was no harm in just a dance, right?
"Alright, Spiderboy", Y/N said, "show me what you got."
~
Wanna know what it's like (like) Baby, show me what it's like (like) I don't really got no type (type) I just wanna fuck all night
The sound of Doja Cat singing could be heard even in the women's restroom, the door locked in a rush as Peter pressed her harder into said door. Their tongues dancing across one another as she could taste the alcohol on his tongue, Y/N moaned as Peter slotted his knee between her legs, pressing against her wet cunt and beginning to rock her hips against him.
But Peter pulled his knee away and she whimpered, breaking the kiss for a moment before she felt one of his hands trail under her dress, finding her thong.
"You're soaked", Peter teased, she shuddered as Peter ran a finger down her slit. "I bet I could slid right in."
As if that was his cue, Peter slid a finger into her, Y/N let her head fall into Peter's chest as he slowly began to pump his finger in her.
"Don't tease", she moaned as she brought his face down to hers.
What's your size? (Size) Add, subtract, divide ('vide) Daddy don't throw no curves (curves) Hold up, I'm goin' wide (wide) We could just start at ten (ten) Then we can go to five (five) I don't play with my pen (pen) I mean what I write
She connected their lips again as Peter slid another finger into, fingering her harder now as he began to rub her clit in tight circles. Y/N cried out at the sensations as she rocked her hips in time with Peter's movements.
Peter began to trail kisses down her neck as her eyes rolled back into her head, her mouth falling open as pants escaped her mouth.
"Fuck you're beautiful", Peter said as he quickened his fingers. "Come on, Y/N, cum on me."
Y/N felt like she was in the Twilight Zone right now, but fuck it, she was enjoying it with the way Peter was fingering her. She could feel that tight knot building in her as Peter's fingers reached an area in her that made her nearly tear up in pleasure, his fingers practically massaging it as she began to tug on his hair as her toes began to curl.
"P-Peter", she panted, "gonna...cum..."
She saw Peter grin in satisfaction as her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She felt breathless and fuzzy as Peter fingered her through it before she whimpered at the overstimulation, which Peter pulled his fingers out.
"Still think I should find someone my own age?" Peter teased, she narrowed her eyes as she panted.
Peter slid his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them.
"I always knew you'd taste sweet", Peter said as she reached for his belt buckle.
Peter brought a hand up, squishing her cheeks together and forcing her lips into a pout; he pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she successfully managed to get unzip Peter's slacks, slipping her hand inside to begin to tease the younger man in front of her.
"Now, you wanna be a tease?" Peter asked as he began to move her to one of the many sinks in the bathroom.
I just can't help but be sexual (whoa) Tell me your schedule (yeah) I got a lotta new tricks for you, baby Just sayin' I'm flexible (I will) I do what I can to get you off (I will)
Peter had gotten her on the sink, legs spread and her thong stuffed in one of his pockets as he began to rock into her. Her eyes rolling into the back of her head as she felt Peter hike up her leg on him higher, sending him into deeper territory and brushing up against her G-spot as he began to rub her clit in time with his rocking.
"P-Peter", she slurred, eyes beginning to water from pleasure.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so good", Peter groaned as he gripped the sink below her.
His thrusts becoming rougher as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
Might just fuck him with my makeup on (I will) Eat it like I need an apron on (yeah, ay) Eat it 'til I need to change my thong (yeah, ay) We could do it to your favorite song (yeah, ay)
Her makeup was ruined, she was sure of it from the amount of kissing, sweat and tears. Y/N shivered as Peter bite down on a part of her neck, making her clench around her even tighter and causing him to let out more groans of pleasure, his hips slapping into her even rougher.
The sound of skin slapping skin rung in bathroom, echoing off the walls as she brought Peter's face back to her own, smashing their lips together as she squealed when her second orgasm hit her, her legs shaking and back arching.
You're exciting, boy, come find me Your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" Fuck that feeling both us fighting Could he try me? (Yeah) mmm, most likely
She had pushed Peter onto one of the toilets in the bathroom, his dick red and leaking when she had straddled him before sinking down onto him. Y/N shivered as she felt Peter stretching her out again and she knew she was going to be feeling him the next day as she moaned and threw her head back at the delicious stretch his cock gave her cunt again.
Peter gripped her hips before grabbing her ass and smacking it, she pulled her face towards his, connecting their lips as she begun to rock her hips.
Oh, wait, you a fan of the magic? Poof, pussy like an Alakazam (yeah) I heard from a friend of a friend That that dick was a ten out of ten
She could someone knocking on the door, but she could care less right with Peter buried so deep inside her as his hands that gripped her hips so tightly began to help rock her.
Baby, I need to know, mmm
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With a groan, Y/N felt her head pounding as an alarm was ringing; she buried her face in her pill-- wait, her pillow was normally soft, not firm and warm.
"Sorry, I forgot to turn that off", someone said in a rough voice.
Opening her eyes quickly, Y/N quickly found that she hadn't made it to her room; the events of last night quickly rushing back to her as she remembered everything.
Looking up, she saw that was indeed in Peter's bed, he was shirtless and his muscles bulging as he reached across to turn off his phone alarm. She could remember now stumbling back to Peter's room for round whatever, she could not remember how many times they had already had sex before they made it to his room.
It was then that she realized she must be back at his fraternity and she groaned inwardly.
But she remember she was lucky she was consistent with her birth control now that she thought about it with the amount of times she let Peter cum in her last night.
Rubbing her eyes as she sat up, Y/N contemplated her life decisions and her mind beginning to try and form some kind of plan of doing the walk of shame when Peter plopped down back into the bed.
"You wanna go get breakfast?"
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plussizefantasia · 5 months
Text
Shaggy and Velma
Flufftober Day 25: Costume Party
Peter Parker x f!reader
Word Count 1.0k
AN: I have officially finished writing all of my prompts for Flufftober, I'll be proofreading the last few before I post them. The problem is, I've really enjoyed all the writing I've been doing and how much everyone has liked my stories. So I want to ask for some requests that I can write after my short break! If you could send a request that would be amazing. As always, Reblogs and Feedback are really appreciated, and I'll see y'all tomorrow!
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divider credit @royallaesthetics
“I am not wearing that.” You deadpanned at Peter who was smiling toothily at you. In his hands, he held one of those awful foam costumes, a matching set. “I am not wearing a piece of foam that makes me look like jelly on toast, not to a party.” You didn’t think that gaveling a couple's costume was a bad idea you thought it might be fun but you drew the line at food.
“C’mon Babe, match with me.” He encoded his strongest pair of puppy dog eyes and aimed them right at you.
“I will match with you, just not as PB and J” you laughed. “What about Shaggy and Velma.”
“Who would be who?” He asked.
“We’ll you’re the smart one so you’ll probably be Velma and I look good in green so I’ll be shaggy.” You shrugged.
“Do they even make male Velma costumes?” Peter began scanning the store for a gender-bent version of the character. 
“Probably not but we could always go to the thrift store.” You suggested
And so you did, two hours and the thrift shops later you had your costumes for the costume party on the NYC campus that your roommate had invited you to.
Parties weren’t your thing but when you had told Peter about it, he had gotten excited. “I’ve never been to a college party, or a Halloween party, or any kind of party that wasn’t a birthday party.” So you cast aside your desire for a cozy night in with your boyfriend, watching movies in spooky pajamas and eating candy that you go from the gas station. You went costume shopping with your dork and basked in the joy that radiated from him all day.
Now, the two of you were about a block away from the party, you’d decided to walk, partially because you didn’t have a car and partially because you wanted to be able to check out other people’s costumes on the way. “Do you think people will know who we are?” Peter asked you. You looked down at yourself, wearing a short corduroy mini skirt and a green top tucked into the waistband, along with a pair of old brown dress shoes you usually saved for special and formal occasions. Then your gaze landed on Peter, you were surprised that you had found the orange turtleneck right away but it fit him well. He also wore a pair of red jeans that you had to force him into a pair of glasses that you popped the lenses out of.
“I’m sure baby, we’re killing it right now.”
“We are, aren’t we?” Peters's voice got soft and he looked at you. He placed a kiss on your temple and kept walking. 
When you arrived at the warehouse the party was at, it was obvious that most of the people there were not in college. Party crashes weren’t rare, but it did mean that Peter would need to keep a close eye on you. This many strangers in one place was bound to be trouble. You had made him promise that he wouldn’t be Spider-Man tonight, that was your condition for going to the party at all.
“I’m not going if you’re going to have to race out of there right away and leave me there.” He agreed it was fair after all, you hadn’t wanted to go, so leaving you alone wasn’t the nicest thing he could do.
So instead, he danced with you, he held you close and he laughed with you when you saw funny costumes. Multiple people complimented you on the outfits you were wearing and every time it happened you watched Peter perk up just a little bit.
As the night wore on, you got a little sloppier, not drunk. You wouldn’t get wasted when you were so keenly aware of how many people you didn’t know and how far from home you were. But you were loose and Peter wasn’t. It’s not like he didn’t have anything to drink, he just metabolized it way too fast.
By three a.m. the party still hadn’t wound down, but as Peter watched you yawn and lean on him a little more than usual he decided that it was time to go.
“Wanna go home, babe? Put in our PJs and watch a movie?” You eagerly nodded and grabbed onto his hand. 
It wasn’t easy getting you home, you seemed to trip on every little thing and had a serious case of the giggles but eventually the two of you made it back to his apartment. Peter helped you up the stairs and in past his door. When your eyes landed on his couch you groaned pleasantly and flopped down onto it. Burying your head in the throw pillows you had bought.
“C’mon babe, we gotta brush our teeth and change into PJs”
“Don’t wanna, comfortable”
“I know babe, but you’ll be mad at me tomorrow for not making you do some sort of routine.”
Even tipsy you knew that you would want to take off your makeup before you went to bed, so even though you groaned and whined the whole time, you let Peter help you take your makeup off, and brush your teeth and hair. 
Peter gently guided you into the bedroom where he pulled out the Halloween PJs you had bought for the two of you before you knew that you were going to the party. He helped you into them, his eyes never starting from your face as he did.
When all your routines were done and you were ready for bed, Peter pulled you to his side and kissed your head like he always did before you fell asleep.
“Thank you for coming with me Shaggy,” you laughed.
“You’re welcome, Velma” was your deeply sleepy response, as soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes shut and you fell asleep immediately.
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moonstruckme · 29 days
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hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐
maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭
feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻
Thanks for requesting lovely!
tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit. 
“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey. 
“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly. 
“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?” 
“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?” 
Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed. 
He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first. 
“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?” 
“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.” 
Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?” 
Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway. 
“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.” 
“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?” 
“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.” 
“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything. 
“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…” 
“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.” 
“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.” 
You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely. 
You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him. 
“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…” 
He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack. 
“What’s this?” 
“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.” 
Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?” 
The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.” 
“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.” 
“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.” 
You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.” 
You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this. 
“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly. 
You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.” 
“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that. 
He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative. 
“Thanks, sweetheart.” 
Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe. 
He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?” 
“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.” 
Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.” 
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wxckedwxrld · 7 months
Text
Marvel: Peter Parker
Imagines
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* - smut ^ - angst • - fluff
PSA: these writings ARE NOT MINE. This is a list of fanfiction I have read during august and sept. All credit goes to the original and rightful writers
masterlist
such a gentleman
• 7 minutes
• Ornithology
^ obedience [pt.1]
^• disobedience [pt.2]
•Under the Mistletoe
^ Too
•^fine line [ch. 1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5]
•^ where we start again [ch.1] [ch.2] [ch.3] [ch.4] [ch.5] [ch.6] [ch.7] [ch.8] [ch.9]
• how to kiss
* no knock knocks
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chubbygirlfics · 8 months
Text
Request from: @jasontoddsthickbabe
Peter Parker x chubby reader
Jason Todd x chubby reader
(Separate)
Summary: what it’s like being their chubby s/o
A/n: Tysm for requesting! I enjoyed writing this and sorry if it’s not good I haven’t wrote in a long time so I’m a bit rusty
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Jason Todd-
Jason has no preference in girls he dates but he’s not one to complain if his partner has more to love.
You guys met threw a mutual friend, after you two got introduced you quickly swapped numbers.
He thought you were very beautiful and breathtaking, so getting your number was a huge score
And you thought he was very attractive and didn’t think he would be interested but luckily he very much was
You guys talked for a few weeks over the phone before going on a date
He took you to a very nice restaurant and after that date u two started dating
He’s a very sweet boyfriend, treats you how u deserve to be treated and loves your body
The thing with Jason is that he’s kinda closed off for a while, he won’t fully open up to you until you’ve been together for a good minute
Which you understand but it has caused some fights.
He always makes sure he’s on time for your dates
Helps you pick out outfits that flatter your chubby body type
He didn’t get with you for your body or your beauty, but it definitely is a plus
He loves your thighs and tummy, every-time you cuddle he lays his head on either one
Comforts you anytime your feeling bad about yourself and completely shuts down any bad thoughts you have ab yourself
Don’t call yourself something mean infront of him bc he will call you dumb for saying whatever u said
Overall he loves you no matter what and is so happy that you chose him
Peter Parker-
He’s such a sweet boyfriend!
The first time you met, you had him stuttering and blushing so hard
Just imagine the joy he felt when he fount out you were into him
Your first date with him was a picnic date, he set it up all by himself, even had one of those checkered blankets laid down
Didn’t take long after that for you to completely fall for him as him with you.
He’s not really used to the boyfriend and girlfriend thing so it’s kinda awkward in the beginning
It takes him a couple of weeks to finally work up the courage to hold your hand
But after you get past the awkward stages, he constantly has a hand on you whether it’s hold your hand, his hand in your thigh, waist, or lower back.
He helps you with your homework whenever you get stuck on a question, thank god he’s smart
He loves you body to and like Jason loves cuddles and almost always has his head on your tummy or thighs but he also likes resting his head on your chest
Whenever u get insecure best believe he’s writing down everything that’s perfect about you and why you should never feel that way
Movie dates, picnic dates, small restaurants in queens dates, or even at home on the couch.
He loves you so much
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shivroysslut · 1 year
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can we talk about the bad representation that plus size people have??? In most fanfics the definitions of plus size are terrible and every time I want to read one (to feel identified) they are all fics with insecure readers who hate their bodies and are super submissive??? bitch I'm plus size and I love my body, I love my build and I'm not at all insecure because of who I am. And no, I'm not denying that there are insecure people, but fat people are always portrayed as people without self-esteem and ughhhh that's disgusting... LEARN TO WRITE PLUS SIZE PEOPLE CORRECTLY!!!
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bitchyycapricorn · 11 months
Text
Bitten
Peter Parker x Reader
Masterlist Word Count: 1.6K Synopsis: Peter’s body changes significantly after being bitten Warnings: Angst, Smut, very fluffy, oral (F and M receiving), P in V, language AN: Characters are aged up. Also, sorry this is one of my shorter ones, wanted to get a small blurb out before my long work. Not edited.
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Peter before the spider bite:
You found yourself once again sitting in your boyfriends room watching as he messes with his new Star Wars lego set. “Babyyyyy, I’m boredddd.” You whine, hoping to get his attention after sitting on his bed for almost four hours just playing on your phone. Peter’s head shot up at your voice while a dorky smile spreads across his perfect lips.
“Well then, what would YOU like to do?” He asks while standing up to stretch.
You tap your chin and look up at the ceiling jokingly. “Probably you,” you tease. Peter’s eyes go wide, as shock paints his face.
“M-me?” He quivers with a terrified face before bursting into laughter with you.
“Oh my-just come over here you doof!” You giggle while holding your arms open. Peter quickly jumps into bed to join you, his lanky body slipping easily into your arms.
“Sooo…” Peter mumbles into your neck, “you really wanna do me?” He asks looking up at you and wiggling his eyebrows. You let out a laugh and nod, capturing Peters lips in your own.
“Take your cloths off lover boy,” you hum while sliding your own shirt off. Peter is quick to oblige, throwing his shirt to the side to reveal his small, and quite scrawny figure. You liked it though, after all, he was your Peter and your Peter was perfect. “I love your body you know that Pete?” You smile, leaning in to kiss his chest.
You watch as Peters cheeks flush a bright red, “R-really?” He laughs nervously.
You wrap your arms around him quickly mumbling a “I love it more than anything, you’re so sexy,” into his chest. Peter laughs again before crawling out of your lap to help you pull off your shorts.
“Well I, I love your body too,” He beams as he throws your underwear onto his desk.
“Peter!” You gasp as you feel him bury his head between your thighs. His tongue slowly licking between your folds and grazing your clit. Arching your back, you lightly grab ahold of Peters hair, admiring the way he looked between your thighs. You could already feel the pleasurable sensation of your orgasm creeping up on you, the feeling making your muscles tense and your insides feel warm and fuzzy.  “Fuck, babe I’m close,” your moan, grip tightening on Peter’s messy curls. His tongue swirled around your clit a few more times before you felt yourself release, grinding your hips as you finish. Peter smiles, popping up and giving you a sloppy kiss, making you taste yourself on his tongue and lips.  “Your turn,” You hum, flipping you and Peter over so he was now propped up on the pillows.
Peter let out a small moan as you toy with the zipper of his jeans, truthfully struggling to get them off. Peter lifts his hips, allowing you enough room to discard both his pants and boxers. A smile plays on your lips as your hand slowly strokes his cock. He was around 6 inches and fit just about perfectly in your mouth. You found yourself admiring his aching cock as you lay down on your tummy, eagerly taking him in your mouth. Peter let out a gasp as you bob your head, enjoying the feeling oh him hitting the back of your throat. “N-not too m-much uuuhh longer, I’m-I’m already close,” Peter stutterers, feeling his cock begin to twitch in your mouth. You slowly remove your mouth from him, making a loud popping sound as he flew out of your mouth completely.
“Ready?” You hum, as you sat up and position yourself on top of him. Peter nodded quickly, squeezing your tits as you slowly sunk down onto his cock. “Oh-fuck Peter,” You moan, throwing your head back as you slowly slid up and down his hard cock. “Fuck you feel so good, you-fuck-you fill me so well,” You whine as you continue to bounce. You place your hands on his smooth chest to balance yourself, before slowly grasping onto his shoulders.
You continue to ride him, loving the feeling of his cock buried deep inside you. “I-I’m close Y/N,” Peter moans , bucking his hips up into yours. Within a few minutes Peter was pulling out of you and finishing on his stomach while you helped him clean up.
When you find out about the spider bite:
“Peter what the fuck,” You gasp, staring at your mostly naked boyfriend standing in the middle of his room.
Peter’s head snaps to the now open door, staring at you like he had just committed a crime. “Y/N…I don’t know what’s going on with me.” Peter’s voice cracks. Your eyes skim his now extremely muscular body, with his new set of abs, broad shoulders, and thick arms. “Y/N, I don’t know what to do,” Peter cries, feeling suddenly out of place in his new body.
“Hey, it’s okay, do you know what happened babe?” You ask softly, as you close the door and begin to approach Peters crying figure. Your arms wrap around him, embracing him in a tight hug. His arms squeeze you, and you became suddenly hyper aware of just how strong his grip was and how every one of his muscles felt against your bare arms.
Peter heaved a few more sobs before sitting down onto the bed with you. “Remember that spider exhibit I went to visit a few days ago? The one you refused to go to with me?” Peter asked, his red puffy eyes staring into yours.
You nod, touching his face and replying with a soft “Yes.”
“Well,” Peter sighs, “One of the spiders was missing from it’s compartment, and while I was there I felt a sharp bite on my neck, and the next thing I know I can see and hear things so much better. I can stick to the wall! I’ve gotten bigger…everywhere! And I’m hungry and sweaty and I feel amazing yet so sick at the same time.” He rambles.
“So wait…you’re telling me that you got bitten by a radioactive spider and are now some bulky ass man who has like super hearing?” You ask furrowing your eyebrows.
“Yes…?” Peter replies sucking in another breath.
“Okay…wait…did you say sticking to walls?”
Peter with the spider bite:
You and Peter had been adjusting to the new spider bite for about three weeks now, trying to figure out all the new things Peter could do along with helping him get used to experiencing his new and enhanced senses, oh, and the Peter tingle. You both had been so wrapped up in figuring stuff out it was only now as you were laying in Peters bed on a rather warm day that you realize neither of you have had sex for over a month. In fact, the last time you saw Peter even close to naked was the day you found out about the spider bite and he was just in a pair of boxers. Since then he seems so nervous to even take his shirt off around you.
“Hey Peter?” You ask turning to your boyfriend who is hiding in a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants on an almost 90 degree day. “You can take off your sweatshirt you know? I don’t bite, unless you want me to.” You tease, tugging at the warm material of his sweatshirt.
“I’m cold,” Peter lies, still looking at his phone.
“Peter?” You ask again, finally getting Peter to turn to you. “Why won’t you let me see your body anymore?” You finish quietly.
Peter frowns, realizing that you’d finally noticed his hesitation to let you see him with nothing on. “I’m scared,” he answers honestly. “You’d always tell me how much you loved the way I looked, and how you liked my build before, all of that, and now I look different. I know that typically people favor a more muscular build but what if you don’t? What if you only like what I used to look like?”
You stare at Peter for a moment before a warm smile spread across your pink lips. “Oh, Peter,” you sigh, sitting up and fully turning toward him. You gently cup his face with your palm, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Of course I loved your body before, but I love it now too. I really don’t care what your build is sweetheart, I just care that you’re my Peter. I fell in love with your goofy smile and your absurd jokes, not your body after some hookup. Besides, bodies change, mines changed since we’ve met, and you still love mine.” You smile kissing his lips softly.
“You’re right” Peter sighs pulling away from the kiss. “I was just so worried you’d view me differently,” he mumbles.
“I know, but hey, I’m going to love you regardless,”
“Okay good because I’m about to die of heat,” Peter groans slipping off his sweatshirt followed by his sweatpants and boxers. His naked boy lays spread out across the sheets, radiating previously trapped heat.
You let out a laugh, slowly running your hand up his muscular chest. “You look hot babes,” You tease, slowly massaging his right shoulder.
“I am hot, I am sweating, look at me!” Peter groans again.
“I meant you’re like sexy hot,” You giggle, running your hand down his arm. “But i could make you even hotter if you want,” You wink at him.
Peter raised an eyebrow at you, feeling blood rush down to his now hardening cock. “It that so?” he asks with a small smirk. “I mean, it has been forever,” he admits, rolling onto his side to face you.
You hum, placing a kiss to his lips before scanning his body again. “Um Peter…” you ask slowly.
“Yes love?” He asks slowly placing his hand on your thigh.
“D-did your dick get bigger?” You laugh nervously remembering just how much it already filled you up before.
“Yeah, extra two inches, wanna try it out?” Peter winks, before tackling you onto his soft mattress.
+++
TAGLIST
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bowieandqueen11 · 8 months
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Tobey!Peter Parker Dating A Plus Size Reader Would Include...
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Request: Hello! I know I sent requests for "random request go!" so feel free to ignore me. I was just wondering - I was reading again your Spider-Man stuff (cause it is FANTASTIC <3 ) and I saw that in your note to "Andrew!Peter x Plus Size!Reader" you said that if anybody would ever want to, you'd be willing to write Tobey!Peter x Plus Size!Reader too. I was wondering if that's still the case. Cause if yes, I'd love to see it one day! No pressure of course, you can skip it if you want! Have a great day!
Oh my gosh lovely of course I will thank you so much, I didn't think anyone actually read those notes aha but I'm so happy you did!! Between Across the Spiderverse (which I still haven't seen yet I'm so slow!) and the Insomniac Spiderman trailer I am being well fed :)
Warning: mentions of blood/injury!
(I do not own Spider-Man or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @fmribeiro01.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
I'm not joking even THINKING about this as a concept is making me squeal because like?? Tobey Peter?? Omg. Absolutely adores you. 24/7, non stop heart eyes motherfcker. Be ready for him to give you looks of such gut wrenching love and vulnerability that you'll just want to squish his cheeks together and kiss his forehead like the puppy he is.
You were 100% Peter's childhood crush, no question asked. You were always invited around to Peter's birthday parties, where the two of you would be thick as thieves for the whole night. Even poor exasperated Harry would find it oddly adorable when it was time to give Petey his cake, and he would bashfully pull out the chair beside him at the table for you to scoot onto. He thought he was so slick, bless his heart, when he reached over to fix your wonky party hat with his tiny shaking fingers, or shyly looked over at the rim of uneven frosting towards you when Aunt May carried out the homemade cake and told him to make a wish. You were always the last one to be picked up, despite living right next door: Ben, the sly old fox, could see how enamoured Peter was. How he had the firmest grip he had ever seen his nephew squeeze out around your arm, and how Peter stood holding the present you had given him in his other hand, not even noticing it because he was too busy fervently nodding and being strung along by every word you would say.
Ben would stall your parents at the door, blocking the way in by pretending to lean on his elbow, and spouting off about whether he was going to paint the living room a periwinkle or an egg shell blue. When your parents finally started to get impatient, you kissed Peter on the side of his cheek and left with a big wave, not really noticing the way he was standing stock-still, his fingers tentatively touching the side of his face and his mouth agape, blubbering like a blow fish. May has never seen him run so fast up the staircase, but Peter's so desperate to curl up alone under his duvet and thank whatever he can think of for making his wish come true, touching the wet imprint of your lips with a revered awe. Eventually, his giggling gets so loud during the night, that Ben has to come out and close over his door so he and May can get at least a little sleep.
A lot of your teenage years is spent with you jumping over your chain link fence in the middle of the night to meet a very anxious looking Peter, whose face quickly grows into a bright smile when he pulls the latest edition of the comic series you've been share-reading out from behind his back. Sitting on the cold tile by his garage, the night would slowly weave diamond dust through the sky, and sparkling joy through the irises of Peter's eye as the two of you stuck your heads together and poured over the pages. Every so often he would have to blink away, pretending he was fixing his glasses because you would catch the side-eye look he was giving you.
By the end of the night, you've fallen asleep, slobbering onto Peter's shoulder. He hasn't moved an inch: as still as marble, and doing his best to hold his breath so he doesn't rustle you, and so he can memorise the way your gratifying weight feels against the side of his shoulder. So he can imprint into his mind how tender your skin feels against his burning neck. It's only when Aunt May comes out to shake the two of you awake from the school bus that he runs into the kitchen all flustered. He grabs his backpack, and says goodbye, but refuses to change his jumper because he can still feel your imprint against the coarse wool.
From time to time that day, you'll peer round the door of your locker to catch him leaning into his, so giddy he's almost vibrating on the spot, which is probably why he's so distracted he bangs his head on the metal top of his own locker door oops.
Lunch that afternoon is even worse! Sitting diagonal across from Peter, you slide into the table next to an already frustrated looking Harry, whose kicking Pete's feet under the table and making incredibly unsubtle raised eyebrow points your way. He's so sick of the way his best friend will spend every minute of his time with you just staring: peering over his fruit pot, blabbering incoherently to himself with ruddy cheeks when he passes you the salt and your pinkie fingers brush, looking at your reflection in his spoon, pretending to stretch his arms and yawn just so he can 'look around the room', which also just so happens to be only the part that you're sitting in. He just wants his friend to be happy, and honestly, he's kind of dumbstruck that the two of you aren't together already, considering his eyes light up like gold-struck dawn every time he sees you.
It's only when Flash Thompson passes by and knocks Peter's elbow out from under him that he finally stops staring over at you. Mainly because his eyes are too busy slamming into his lunch tray, and breaking the bridge of his glasses down hard against his nose. The spell you wisp around his heart is finally broken when the blood starts gushing down his nose, and you have to half-carry him to the medical office. He spends 50% of the time walking there apologising to you, and the other 50% of the time is spent trying to stop his fingers from clenching into your arm. You've tucked him into your side, holding half his torso against you so he can spend most of his effort on pinching his nose, but he doesn't even care that he's swallowing blood anymore, he's so focused on how close he's pressed up against you. The feeling only grows more fervent, more needy, until he's twitching his thighs against the nurse's table to try and get himself to calm down, when you stay with him for the rest of the period to try and wipe some of the blood away. The way you're so close to his lips, the way that your gentle fingers are dabbing so close to his mouth that he can feel his rushing breath brush against your hairs is making him go cross-eyed with how much he's trying to focus on you.
'You know...', you start after a minute, biting your bottom lip nervously as you continued to dab at peter's nostril. 'I have eyes, Petey.'
'I-I know that, silly', he says, his breath coming out in a confused gasp. 'Me too!'
'I- I know you've been looking at me. Because I've been looking at you, too.'
His heart seems to be slamming into the caged cavity of his ribs, and yet everything seems to simultaneously be standing still: caught in a hazy, gliding, wavering dream as you slowly... ever so slowly drop the cloth into the sink, and break through the few inches between the two of you to press your lips against his top one.
For a moment, Peter is so shocked all he can do is widen his eyes, not even processing that the thing he's spent every moment of his waking and sleeping life wishing for ever since he was a child was happening right now. He tries really hard to stop his whole body from shaking, as his silky lashes finally falter shut against the top of your cheeks and he tries to focus his whole attention on the way your plush lip seems to press so perfectly against his own. After a few seconds though, when he hears the clattering of trays fall to the floor and the darkness he was letting himself fall willingly down into seems a little harder to blink out of, he realises the sound was him.
You're worried you've upset him, or stepped too far, or misconstrued his intentions when Peter falls backwards off you, but that's quickly replaced by frantic concern when he starts sliding to the floor. Thankfully, your reflexes are almost as good as his, and you're quick to wrap your arm around his back and cradle his head against your breastbone before he can slam his head against the floor again. He has to spend the rest of the day lying in the office's bed waiting until Uncle Ben can pick him up, but it was completely worth it. As he gazes up at the inane, plastered ceiling, suddenly everything else in life seemed so silly and pointless. All he cared about was rubbing his pointer finger over the wet patch of your saliva still dotted against his bottom lip, his eyes filled with a million bursting stars as he saw beyond the ceiling and into the skies, thanking it for making his birthday wish come true.
The two of you move into his crumby apartment after high school, and honestly? It's the happiest time in Peter's life. Sure, it may be small, and the walls may be flaky and they may shake every time a train rolls past the tracks outside, but every time he comes home to them he's greeted by the memories of the two of you laying against them like when you were kids, falling asleep against each other's heads as you read into the night. Sure, Ditkovich may hound the two of you constantly for rent, and the afternoons may be drowned out by the sound of his friends playing poker a couple of doors over, but they were so easy to forget in the evenings when you turned on your slightly dented radio and made a flustered Peter dance with you across the room, not stopping until you had him held tightly in your arms and he was so embarrassed with his two left feet that he was hiding his head in the curve of your luscious neck.
And sure, you may have picked up pretty quickly that Peter was Spiderman, considering he keeps hopping out the balcony at random hours and leaves his suit sometimes crumpled at the bottom of the closet, but you love him. And he adores you more than anything any universe could throw at him. So life, for the most part, is good.
Honestly, it's so cosy living with him?? Peter literally has spider strength, so he adores it when you lie on top of him in your bed. After a while of just nattering peacefully to each other about your days, winding down by playing with each other's fingers and sneaking kisses through the brackets of your arms, he feels so at peace to feel your weight familiarly resting on top of him. This need increases tenfold after he loses Ben, I think there's something so comforting to him, to know and feel that you're still so close to him, that he can synch the anxious patter of his heart against your own. He's so sweet bless him. he gets so sleepy that his head keeps falling down on top of your own, but he's so quick to lift it up again. He blinks languidly, that honey-sweet, silvery smile shadowed only by the tempered glow of the warm moonlight drifting through the balcony as he tries desperately to keep himself awake, giving his full attention to you.
There's just something about drifting off to the sound of your voice, knowing that for once, he's safe. That he's wrapped up, looked after, comforted by the love of his life. It just feels really nice to be the one coddled from time to time.
Sometimes, you'll jolt awake in the dead of night by the sound of some strange, wistful whispering echoing from somewhere in the near empty room. It takes your brain a little whirring time to realise it's coming from the hand that's spooning your waist, and the nose that's pressed tightly against the back of your thigh. Turns out Peter spends a lot of his sleepless nights tracing over your stretch marks, nestling down your back and reverently dancing his fingers up and down the tiger stipes on your waist. Every so often, he would rub his nose against their aureate lines in a fond kiss, gingerly resting his cheek against your bare skin again as he tried not to wake you up. What really made your heart melt, though, was the way an awe-struck 'wow' would slip from his lips in such a reverential tone, that Peter became so overwhelmed and could do nothing else but leave a small kiss against the side of your leg, dotted by slick tears.
This man picks you up on his scooter after your shift at work, mainly because 1) you are a much better driver than him, and it actually gets home in one piece rather than being tangled under a car wheel somewhere, and 2) when he's super stressed he finds it so comforting to wrap his arms around your side and press his forehead tightly into your back, letting the whole world melt away until nothing but whirling air and the scent of you is left. He always arrives outside your office building ten minutes early, making your secretary laugh when she spots him straightening his best flowery tie in the reflection of the waste bin by the bench outside. He has his best suit on, freshly pressed, and is nervously stepping from foot to foot with a crumpled bouquet of roses in his hand, like a teenager waiting to ask his crush to prom.
Every. Single. Day. You honestly just wait for the secretary to buzz you so you can grab your coat and run outside; you know far too well that Peter either dumps his Spidey suit through the window, or just wears his proper suit underneath so he isn't late. Doesn't matter if he has to catch five buses from the Daily Bugle, or has to 'borrow' his moped from 'Joe's Pizza' to get there on time, he's always there. And he always wants to look his best for you, even though he's still so surprised that someone as ethereal as you would even bother to look his way that he has to shuffle a handkerchief out of his trouser pocket and dab at the sweat beading on his forehead.
It's either that, or Peter scaring the bejesus out of you by picking you up with his webs. You'll just be minding your own business, walking down the sidewalk on your way back from your lunch break, only to be hoisted, screaming into the air and past an equally petrified looking pigeon. Peter does feel bad the first time he did this, since you were screaming the whole time he swung you, but you've settled into a better routine now. You've found it easier to watch the scattered tiles of churches and the blurred crests of building whiz by while you're holding on tightly to his waist, and your feet are firmly pressed on top of his own so he can keep you steady against him. I mean, you might still bury your head into his shoulder blade in absolute terror, but he makes it up to you by landing you down gracefully on top of your office a couple of minutes before you go back in.
The adrenaline from swinging about New York makes the kisses far more heated, and it's always helpful to have a little privacy when you pull the edge of his latex mask harshly up past the bridge of his nose and nearly knock him flying over the cornerstones with how fervidly you smash your lips against him. His arms instinctively come to wrap around you, and even he's grown a little more emboldened by the knowledge that you actually do love him and this isn't some cruel villain trick or high school prank, to open his mouth and press his tongue lovingly against yours. He never wants to let you go, so before he lets you go back to your job he gives you a tight hug, and presses a million warm little kisses in a treasure trail down the pulse point in your neck.
This man literally has like... two outfits, so he's constantly wearing your clothes! Surprise! You come home to find him sitting criss-cross on the bed, face bruised and tired worn from his latest clash with Doc Ock, but your sweatshirt tucked over him and lifted up against his cheeks like a little hidden koala bear. Surprise! You plan a surprise birthday party for him with Aunt May, only for him to turn up after work wearing one of your jumpers! It's just so snug, and homey, and it reminds Peter of when he was ten years old; when you came round to sleepover, and the two of you would crash on his mat after spending so long pouring through and excitedly talking about the new quantum theories in the science magazines he used to buy with his pocket money, Peter would shuffle up beside you. With a sharp breath, he would tentatively turn on his side and pray he wouldn't wake you up, curling into the foetal position. With a smile like dawn breaking through the soft tufts of a cloud, he would press his nose into your shoulder and just breathe you in, hoping he would never forget it as long as he lived.
This man loves to take you out dancing, mainly so he can grin wildly and show you off to every other customer in the restaurant. Every time he passes the waiter, or the Maitre d', he points wildly at your back and mouths ecstatically 'that's my Y/n!'. He legitimately pools all the money he's made from the photography, and from the pizza delivery together so he can take you to a fancy restaurant uptown. He feels so nervous when he gets up with that breathless smile and offers you his hand, but all his troubles just immediately melt away once he feels your hand brush over the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He falls against you, easily caught just like he was all those years ago. Your fingers feel so soft, so perfect as they slot between his own, although his left hand never stops rubbing over the supple skin of your waist as he sways the two of you back and forth in time to the dream-like lullaby of the string quartet.
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Going Stupid
Peter Parker x plus size reader
Peter’s roommate is driving him up the wall
Warnings: reader is kind of a bimbo and kind of based on Elle Woods, implied smut, Peter kind of hates her but not really, swearing
WC: 676
Minors DNI
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3000 Follower Celebration
Peter groaned as he entered the small two bedroom apartment he was currently renting. The walls were vibrating with the force behind your Bluetooth speaker as you listened to your current hyper-fixation song. It was never his choice in the first place to have you, the bubbly underclassman studying fashion, as his roommate but when rent was jacked up, he was forced to take in the first willing person he could find.
And now he was stuck with you. You were ditsy and unorganised, he couldn’t hold an intelligent conversation with you unless it was the history of polka dots and worst of all you were drop-dead gorgeous. 
It was more often than he cared to admit that he would storm off to take an extra long shower to relieve himself after coming home to you wearing practically nothing as you waltzed about the apartment. He constantly chastised himself for it. He should be attracted to women like MJ, smart, intelligent women who he could actually engage with. But no, he was stupidly falling for you.
And he just couldn’t handle that today, not after a long day in the lab followed by hours of boring lectures. You were dancing around the kitchen, donned only in panties and a tight pink tank top. There was a smear of flour across your full cheek and your lips stained with chocolate frosting. Peter’s brown eyes dropped to your tits which were moving freely, unencumbered by a bra. There was a dollop of the sugary icing on the smooth expanse of your skin. Oh how he wished to lick it off of you.
“Petey! You’re home!” He cringed at the sound of your voice, replying with a half-hearted, “Yeah I am”, as he dropped his backpack on the small bench by the door. He kicked off his shoes, wincing as his sore heels came into contact with the cold flooring.
“You know Peter, you should get some inserts for your shoes. I noticed you had high arches like months ago and I was like that’s so cool cause I have high arches too and I never meet anyone with high arches. I get my shoes custom ordered for my feet cause they hurt a lot if I walk too much and I mean a lot! Like that time I was at that club with-“ Your voice became a blur of white noise as Peter was hypnotised by the way your plump body moved gracefully through the small kitchen. 
The tank top clung to you like a second skin, accentuating each and every dip of your curves. His brown eyes, slowly growing darker with lust, now dropping down even further to where your shirt ended, leaving a strip of your belly exposed above your white panties. The cotton cupped your mound so snuggly that he could see the texture of the dark thatch of hair resting on the base of your pelvis through the fabric. The cellulite on your legs were like the perfect dents for his fingertips to rest and Peter couldn’t imagine how safe and warm your thighs would be around his hips. 
“Can you put on some clothes? I can’t concentrate.” Your mouth snapped shut with an audible click and he could practically feel the way your skin blazed with embarrassment. He watched you glance down at your outfit, suddenly becoming self-conscious.
Peter clicked his tongue and with a surge of confidence he didn’t know he had, he strode across the apartment and grabbed you by your wide hips. “I can practically hear your thoughts from here. You’re too damn sexy, it makes me go stupid.”
“You’re not stupid Petey.” You mumbled while doing everything in your power not to make eye-contact. He tutted and gently cupped your chin with his left hand, guiding your face towards him.
“I like it though, princess. It makes me mad sometimes though.”
“Why?” You nuzzled into his hand. Peter smirked and his grip tightened, making you gasp.
“Cause if I go too dumb, who’s going to fuck you even stupider.”
Request: oooooh how about Peter Parker, maybe a roommate au/ best friend? and the prompt going like “Can you put on some clothes? I can’t concentrate.” “I can practically hear your thought from here.” and something ike that? I leave it upto u, but a hate/mean thingy I feel like would rly add to it (as typically Peter would *never*) also fro which Peter- its rly ur choice, but Andrew and tom are my fav (sorry toby baby) ofc its just a request but I hope u do something! I love ur work congrats on 3k! &lt;3 @my-fabulousness-has-arrived
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𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟
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Hello everyone! I am here again with another month long challenge! This time, the month of November will be filled with comfort fics of your favorite characters! So stayed tuned if you're ever in need of some fall loving ♡
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1. Hugs — Tom!Peter Parker
2. Stressed — Professor!Spencer Reid
3. Warm Food — Sick!Dean Winchester
4. Overthinking — Bucky Barnes
5. Game Night — Sam Winchester
6. Exhaustion — Daryl Dixon
7. Comfort Item — Maggie Greene
8. Afraid to Ask For Help — Wanda Maximoff
9. Day Out — Aaron Hotchner
10. Breakdown — Daryl Dixon
11. Holding Hands — Emily Prentiss
12. Concern — Andrew!Peter Parker
13. Losing Track of Time — Natasha Romanov
14. Encouraging — Daryl Dixon
15. A Quiet Moment — Steve Rogers
16. Shelter — Matthew Murdock
17. Falling Asleep on Someone — Spencer Reid
18. Overwhelmed — Dean Winchester
19. Cold — Rick Grimes
20. Self Care — Wanda Maximoff
21. Anxiety Attack — Bucky Barnes
22. Pets — Daryl Dixon
23. Pass Out — Dean Winchester
24. Night Time — Emily Prentiss
25. Lost — Tom!Peter Parker
26. Getting Sleep — Maggie Greene
27. Proud — Bucky Barnes
28. Quality Time — Spencer Reid
29. Distance — Jennifer Jareau
30. Moving Forward — Aaron Hotchner
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prettybabybaby · 2 years
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bunny | peter parker !
¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
word count: 10.9k
synopsis: Peter Parker has been your best friend for years. After you develop a relationship with somebody else, you see a side of him you've never seen before.
content warnings: RAPE/NONCON, blood, dark!peter parker, plus size!reader, negative self talk, insecurities, slow burn, implied stalking, oral (f! receiving), slapping, degradation, spit, unproteced sex, creampie, lmk if i missed any
¡ marvel masterlist !
You were sixteen when you met Peter Parker. 
He had shyly approached you, a blush high on his cheeks as he handed you a stack of papers. Confused, you simply stared at them, eyebrows cinched and lips slightly down-turned. 
You were well aware of who Peter Parker was. He was a member of the Midtown Academic Decathlon team that you were also part of; though you never directly interacted it’s him due to your nerves. He seemed kind, he was lanky and a little geeky, making him the butt of a lot of jokes. Much like you were. For opposite reasons, of course.
You were often teased and ridiculed for your size. You were heavier and much curvier than other girls your age. You had a puffy face and a matching plump body, most people couldn’t look past that. So, to say the least, you weren’t very popular.
Peter Parker knew all about you. He had been watching you since your freshman year. He was mesmerized when first laid eyes on you. He swears he had never seen a more beautiful sight than you, taking little, shy steps like you were afraid to make your presence known. Your hair was done in the way he would grow to like best, and you wore a pretty blue plaid skirt and a white sweater. The skirt was a tad too long and he could sense your discomfort as you tugged it down even further. He remembers staring at you as you looked around with unfamiliarity and slight fear in your eyes. The innocence in your eyes was also hard to miss. You held textbooks to your chest, in an attempt to conceal your tummy. He watched as you stood alone, your cute nose making slight movements as you stood. Your nose wiggled like a little bunny. He felt the desire to protect you, keep you next to him and out of harm’s way. He regrets not approaching you that day. It would have saved you from a lonely year. 
“I was told to give these to you,” he said silently, “I heard you missed a few days.”
“Oh,” you breathed, taking them from him, your chubby hands looking silly against his thin, veiny ones. Peter thought they looked perfect together. “Thank you, Peter,” you said, quickly pulling your hands away and hiding them behind your back when you saw his gaze on them. 
His eyes lingered on where your hand was against his before he looked up at you and gave you a bright smile, “no problem.”
Peter walked you to your class after that, taking the empty seat beside you and discussing the subject matter with you. And to your surprise, he followed you to your next class, and the next, and the next. By the end of the day, you were quite fond of the boy. He was a lot kinder than you’d imagined, he even promised to see you the following morning for breakfast with Ned and MJ. Of course, you tried to decline but he wouldn’t let you leave without the promise of arriving on time. 
This was years ago and your friendship had only gotten stronger. 
Being friends with Peter was refreshing and comforting. He wasn’t like the other guys you’d met in university. He didn’t have any ulterior motives nor did he fetishize you. He did not attempt to coerce you or manipulate you into getting what he wants because you owed it to him. No, Peter would never do that. 
Peter was actually the one to look after you, he made you aware of what those who sought you were really after. They want to take advantage of you, bunny, he’d said several times. They want to ruin you. He would never elaborate on what he meant when he said that and you didn’t like to pry. He just had a good judge of character is all.
Of course, Ned and MJ were your friends too and they were very nice to you as well, but you always felt that they were only acquainted with you for Peter’s sake. You never hung out with them without Peter present but you tried not to let it bother you.
Your goal for the year was to acquire your own circle of friends, and maybe even get a boyfriend after being single your entire life. Peter had a few girlfriends here and there, though nothing was ever serious. You couldn’t help but feel slightly envious of him, he had grown to be quite attractive, making it easy for him to make connections.
He had lost the baby fat on his cheeks, his jaw was now angular and his strong bone structure was one of his most prominent features on top of his big, brown eyes and muscular body. He was muscular in a lean way, a way that isn’t entirely noticeable under the sweaters he always wore. 
Today Peter sat across from you, latte in hand as he basked in the morning sun. His tight black shirt highlighted his muscular arms and chest, you caught yourself staring as you sometimes did when he ditched the ill-fitting clothing. His chocolate brown curls framed his face beautifully, looking golden where they met the sun. His lips, colored like pink peonies, rested with the slightest pout.
You sipped your London fog, squinting as you looked up in search of the singing bird in the tree above your head. You caught sight of it. The creature’s delicate red feathers looked like fire in the golden sky as it flew away. Your stare fell on Peter again, “our 8 AM lecture was canceled today.” 
Peter hummed, not moving from his previous state, “I know.”
You huffed, “why’re we here, then?” you set your cup down, “it’s way too early. We, no I, should be in bed.”
Peter’s lips quirked up into a smile, “I wanted to hang out.”
“At six-thirty A.M.? We could’ve hung out at a more reasonable hour, like, I don’t know, eleven,” you began ranting and you saw one of Peter’s eyes open slightly. “Or maybe twelve, we could’ve gotten breakfast or… or brunch!”
“You never eat breakfast,” he said, swinging his head forward, eyes now fully open and on you.
“I do…” you claimed, your nose scrunching, lips pouting.
Peter clicked his tongue, “not enough.”
“Well, whatever,” you opted to change the subject before he could continue further. 
“We still could’ve met up later. Like I said, brunch.”
“I don’t know,” he began, sitting up all the way now, “I kinda like being out this early. It’s nice and quiet.” 
“I guess so,” you murmured, leaning back to rest on your elbows.
Peter watched you, gaze moving from your Mary Jane-clad feet to your pretty hair. You wore a dress today. It was Peter’s favorite dress, not that you knew that. It was a lilac purple color and it had short, puffy sleeves. He liked the way the dress clung to your curves and complimented your skin tone. It was the shortest of all your dresses, so he especially liked the way it rode up your thighs when you sat down, making your pudgy thighs all the more visible to him. He stared at them now, noticing the way the plush fat pooled around you like a sea of soft flesh as you relaxed. He wanted to grab them, bury his face in them and drown in you. 
His eyes ran up your body further, over the curve of your tummy and swell of your breasts. The necklace Peter had gifted you last Christmas sat prettily around your neck, resting on your bare chest above the heart-shaped neckline of your dress, rising and falling as you breathed. He stared at it, not noticing when you opened your eyes to look at him.
“Okay?” he heard you ask.
“Mhm,” he replied, tearing his eyes away and giving you a soft smile. 
+
The morning had passed rather quickly and you perked up after your second tea of the day. Your last class of the day was your creative writing class. As you strode in, you took your usual seat in the front of the room, setting your things down beside you.
Your focus was on the board in front of you when you felt a gush of air on your left. You looked over, catching sight of a tall figure sitting down beside you. 
“Hey,” the man exhaled, setting down his things next to yours. 
You opened your mouth to respond but you ended up holding your hand up to signal a hello. 
The man smiled, “I’m Harry,” he held a hand out for you to shake.
You looked at it, quietly introducing yourself as you took his pale hand. Your touch was featherlight as it took you by surprise when he gripped it tightly with a slight laugh. 
Harry was effortlessly charming. He was cute and cool and he had a sharp sense of humor, you learned. But on top of that, he had a contagious smile and a gaze that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. You often caught yourself gazing at him from the corner of your eye trying to be inconspicuous with your staring. He had shiny blonde hair that you thought resembled Peter’s. Only lighter and shorter and straighter and not really like Peter’s at all. 
You weren’t sure why your mind had suddenly wandered to Peter. Maybe a part of you wondered what he would think of Harry. Or maybe you were subconsciously comparing them. You weren’t sure.
“Hey, um,” you turned towards Harry who had begun speaking. The class had ended and you were gathering your things. “We should meet up,” he grinned, “maybe at the library?”
You weren’t used to social invitations, much less from men like Harry. 
“Does tomorrow at four work for you?” 
You nodded, unable to find your voice. You felt blood rush to your face at the look he gave you next. It was like he was trying to figure you out, understand you with a simple glance. Like he was trying to read you like a book. 
“Great,” he picked up your bag for you, “looking forward to it.”
+
Peter was laying on your bed when you arrived at your little studio apartment. He was half asleep, strong arms wrapped tightly around your stuffed bunny and surrounded by your assortment of other stuffed animals. He shot up at the sound of the door opening, “hey.”
“Do you ever go home?” you kicked off your shoes and set your bag down. “This place isn’t big enough for the both of us.”
In his mind it was. Just perfect. It kept you close.
“Why would I? You’re such good company, bunny.”
You snorted, “I’m sure that’s the reason and definitely not you trying to get away from Ned and Betty.” 
You moved towards your bed, plopping down next to him, adjusting the skirt of your dress that had ridden up when you landed. Peter watched your hands as they rested on your tummy. He could see right down your dress. He could see the white bra hugging your tits, a little bow between the cups. 
“What?” you asked, self-consciously moving your hand to your chin.
“Nothing. Don’t do that,” he looked at the ceiling. It bothered Peter when you did things like that. As if you weren’t the most beautiful person he had ever seen.
You simply huffed, “how did you even get in here?”
He motioned toward the open window, “you need to start locking it. One of these days a creep could just come waltzing in and you’d have no idea.”
“A creep like you,” you joked with a breathy laugh. You tore your stuffed bunny from his arms.
“Worse,” he said lazily.
Silence filled the room for a few seconds as Peter began to doze off again. 
“I met this guy in class today.”
Peter was suddenly very awake. “Oh,” a pause, “who?”
“He said his name is Harry, I don’t know his last name but he was very nice.” You sounded excited, “we’re meeting up at the library tomorrow to study and get some work done.”
Get some work done. Sure, that’s what you were gonna do. Peter knew better than that. You didn’t, of course. That’s why you were so lucky to have Peter with you, by your side, protecting you from evil college guys who just wanted to get under your skirt. They wouldn’t have a clue what to do to you. How to make you feel good and have you purring sweetly in their ears… 
“So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break into my home.”
“Huh?”
You gave him an unamused look, “you weren’t listening.”
He grinned, “I’m always listening.”
You rolled your eyes, “I said, don’t come by just in case we come back here.”
Peter furrowed his brows in disgust. What business would he have coming back to your apartment if you were just going to study? Did he ask you if he could come over? 
“Why would you do that?”
You shifted uncomfortably, “I don’t know…”
Peter felt sick. 
“We should do something else instead. There’s a new Vietnamese place not far from here. MJ says they have really good pho.”
“Peter…” you started. He knew you were going to say no. You rarely said no to him. “How about Friday? We can get takeout and come back here and watch movies. Your pick.” 
His first mistake was looking over at you. Your chubby cheeks and pretty lips pulled up into a sweet smile. Your eyes were pleading, please say yes, please say yes. His second mistake was giving in.
“Fine.”
+
Peter left your apartment shortly after that. You had spent the rest of the night going over the conversation trying to figure out where you went wrong. He seemed upset as he hugged you goodbye. His brown eyes didn’t hold the same warmth they always did. Maybe he thinks I’m trying to replace him. But that wouldn’t make any sense. You only just met Harry. You didn’t know anything about him besides his first name. 
“Hey!” Harry called a tad too loudly for the library. He stood from his seat, waving you over.
In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to be there. It was a little before four and you had arrived with low expectations. Though this was only intended to be a study session and nothing more, Harry was a very attractive man. He was funny and charming and extroverted and you… were none of those things.
“Hi,” you mumbled as you neared the table he was seated at. It was in the far corner, furthest away from the librarian. Or any of the other stressed university students. 
“I chose this table so we won’t have to whisper,” he smiled, patting the open seat beside him.
His eagerness made you blush. “Good idea,” your voice was still small.
He chuckled, “thanks,” he dramatically whispered.
You blushed further, “sorry.”
The both of you were silent as you took out your laptops. 
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for some time now,” he started. “I read one of your pieces when the semester started and I really enjoyed it. You’re a phenomenal writer.”
“Really?” he appeared nonchalant as he typed in his password. As if he hadn’t just given you the kindest compliment you had ever received.
“Yeah, it’s so obvious how passionate you are. I mean every time I look at you, you look so entranced by the books you read or by the professor or your work.”
He looked at you?
“Oh,” your face felt warmer, “um, thank you.”
He smiled at you, “no problem, it’s true.”
You felt butterflies in your tummy and you began to log into your laptop to avoid looking at him.
You began to work in silence, hyper-aware of every time Harry leaned in close to you, reading your story as you typed. He smelled of musk and vanilla. His head of blonde locks tickled your ear.
Eventually, you presumed he grew bored as he shut his laptop and turned to face you in his chair. You attempted to ignore him but your typing began to slow and your focus was only on the boy beside you.
You gave him a faux look of annoyance, “I thought we were here to study.”
“We are,” he propped his head up on his hand that rested on the table. “To study and get to know each other.” 
Get to know each other. 
That was unexpected. 
You couldn’t ignore the butterflies that erupted in your tummy, “Oh, okay, yeah.”
Surprisingly, you had a decent amount in common with Harry. Of course, not overly so. Not like you and Peter. But this is a good thing. You’re making your own friends.
+
“Oh, he’s so lovely, Pete!” you gushed, your nose wiggling as you spoke.
“Mhm,” Peter watched you with a strange look, mouth full of boba pearls, “you’ve mentioned that.”
You gave him a smile that normally would have made him turn to mush. Only this time, it didn’t. Had you smiled at Harry like that?
“I’m excited!” you waved your hands in the air, “I’m making my own friends, Pete. I’m an independent woman now.”
He rolled his eyes as he took another sip of his tea, “good. Good for you.” He couldn’t help the bitter feeling that rested in the pit of his stomach. 
Independent. You had made a single “friend” (Peter didn’t even want to think about that. He knew Harry was just using you, that’s not what friends do. You shouldn’t throw that term around like that. He was your friend. Peter was your friend.) and you already pegged yourself as independent. He could laugh in your face. You were far too pure to face the world without him by your side. Like hell you were independent.
You pouted, your eyes searching for his, “are you angry with me?”
Angry? Why would he be angry? Because you hadn’t shown at your arranged time? Because the reason you were late was that you wanted to squeeze in an extra “study date” with Harry? No, he wasn’t angry. Not at you anyway.
“Of course not, bunny. Could never be.”
It was true, he wasn’t necessarily angry, he was more so slightly bothered by what you had done. That’s how it usually was. You would do something that Peter did not agree with but he would never be angry. Just mildly annoyed. He couldn’t be angry with his sweet little bunny. You probably didn’t even know the consequences of your actions. He couldn’t blame you for that.
You smiled, leaning in to hug him. Peter was immediately enveloped in warmth, your soft body melding with his. The sweet scent of lavender and honey was all around him. Your hair tickled his neck where you buried your face. You were on your knees on the couch, allowing Peter a view of your backside covered in your loungewear.
He loved your hugs. They always succeed in lifting his spirits and making him a little dizzy. You were just so warm and soft and perfect for him. 
You pulled away, still smiling as you sunk back into your spot on your tiny, tiny couch and pulled your tea to your lips. 
He let himself watch as you wrapped your lovely mouth around the straw. A minuscule puddle of milk tea formed on your bottom lip, and you licked it up as you removed the straw. Your tongue was wet and a delightful shade of pink as you slid it across the expanse of your lip.
He felt a throb in his sweatpants. Shifting, he asked, “so, what else did you do today?”
You hummed, chewing the balls of boba in your mouth, “that’s all. Just hung out with Harry. We have a lot more in common than I thought,” you giggled. “We just don’t run out of things to talk about.”
He inhaled, feeling himself go soft, “that’s a lot of talking in the library.”
“Oh, we didn’t go to the library,” you shook your head. 
He gave you a look, “where did you go?”
You looked hesitant, “um, we went to his flat. It was nearby and he had forgotten his books, so it was easier to stay there.” 
How convenient. 
“Bunny,” Peter started. 
You had a guilty look on your face as you stared at him, “I know,” your voice was small, “not safe. I know… but he’s not like the other guys Pete. He wouldn’t hurt me.”
“How can you be so sure, hm? You’re in no way prepared to protect yourself. What if he had done something to you? What would you have done?”
“He wouldn’t…” you looked down, “he wouldn’t do anything.” You bit your lip as you nervously whispered, “I think he likes me.”
Peter could hardly hear you. He was sure he hadn’t heard correctly because of how softly you spoke. “Speak up, bunny. I can’t hear you.”
“I said I think he likes me,” you said a little louder. He could see the embarrassment on your face. Like you couldn’t believe you had said that out loud.
Peter swallowed, “oh.” 
There was a pause, “what makes you think that?”
“Well,” your nose fluttered, “he said he’s never met anyone like me. And he,” you glanced up at him before returning your gaze to your lap, “he tried to kiss me.”
Oh. 
Peter didn’t know how to react. He stared at your pretty eyes with his brows cinched and an analyzing gaze. The first thought to pop into his was: did you kiss him? Then: did you want to kiss him?
“Oh,” he managed to say, “did you?”
You inhaled, “um, no…” you trailed off, shifting uncomfortably. “I couldn’t.”
Good. He doesn’t deserve to feel your lips. He doesn’t deserve your first kiss. 
“I don’t know how,” you looked up at him. Your eyes looked glassy and you had a look of embarrassment on your face.
It should have been obvious. Peter did keep any potential love interest as far from you as you could manage, yet he was still flustered.
He hummed, feeling blood rush to his groin, “you don’t?”
You shook your head, “no… never learned how.”
Your lips looked so pretty as you pouted, shame present on your face. Peter wanted to reach over, pull you in close, and kiss you softly. He wanted to run his hands through your hair and up your soft curves. To hear your lovely noises as you gave into him. 
He grimaced as the image of Harry’s dirty lips inching closer to yours. Your pure, innocent mouth being tainted by his filthy one. He could have that. What else would he make you do?
He could only imagine your gasp of surprise, your inexperienced movements, your sugary taste. But you were sitting right in front of him, weren’t you? You had enough confidence in him that you would even confess such a thing. He was obligated to help you, wasn’t he? You’re essentially asking for help, right?
“I could,” he paused, unsure, “I could teach you.”
“Really?” You straightened your back a tad, eyes widening at the offer.
You trusted him so much. After all these years that you’d known him, Peter had never once misled you in any way shape, or form. He was the person you trusted most because you knew he had your best interest in mind. He was your best friend. He was there to keep you safe.
“Mhm,” he moved a little closer, “if you’d want that, I can.”
You nodded eagerly, “yes, Peter, please.”
Yes, Peter, please…
You sat still as Peter invaded your space.
He licked his lips, you reluctantly placed one hand on your thigh, and the other reaching up to cup your chubby face. The warmth of your being was seeping into him so deep he felt warmer than he ever had.
You looked at him expectantly, your glassy gaze flickering from his honey brown eyes to his lips. 
“Are you ready?” He whispered, mouth mere inches from yours.
You inhaled, “yes, Peter. I wanna be good for Harry.”
He ignored the pang in his chest, “well, you have to be good for me first, bunny.”
You nodded, fluttering your eyes shut. He watched you for a second. Your nose wiggled faintly as you breathed and you sat patiently waiting with your pouty lips puckered up slightly. 
He was able to see it all this close to you. All of your imperfections that he never had the privilege of noticing before. It only made him long for you more.
Peter ignored the thought in his head that said if he knew you’d give in to him so easily under the pretense of teaching you, he would’ve offered his services much earlier.
He leaned in, hovering just before your lips, eyeing how your eyebrows furrowed and your lips extended further. But not a single complaint about Peter’s excruciatingly slow pace because he knows best, and he knew you knew that.
He could feel your shaky exhales on his skin as he finally connected your lips. He felt himself twitch, once, twice, at the sheer feeling of your lips pressed against his. It was harder to refrain from going further - maybe a hand up your thigh, up to your belly and to your tits, maybe wrap them around your neck…
He felt your face contort as he began to finally move his mouth against yours, your kisses were as sloppy as he’d imagined them to be. And he was correct, your inexperience made him painfully hard. He reluctantly removed his hand from your thigh and placed it on his bulge. He just couldn’t resist. You let out a high shaky breath as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.
Peter could taste the remnants of your milk tea on your tongue. You attempted to mirror his movements and he felt another throb at your feeble efforts.
He rubbed his hand onto his hard cock to resist the urge to do something completely inappropriate like take your hand to place it on his thigh to get him even closer to his release. He didn’t believe it would take much at all for him to cum. Your mouth moving against his was more than enough.
You began to get the hang of it and it somehow made Peter’s erection even more painful. His hips involuntarily jerked as you wrapped your arms up around his neck, tugging him close. Your thigh brushed against his cock, and he sighed. You gasped, your tongue halting its sloppy movements.
He could feel you pulling back and he chased your lips, pushing into you and not permitting you to disconnect your mouths. You leaned back against the arm of the small couch in your attempt to pull away from your best friend’s lips. Peter followed you, body against yours. His cock sat on your thigh and he hoped you couldn’t feel it twitch. 
As his hips made small movements, grinding into your thigh. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your head, keeping you against him, while the other felt up your sides, resting below your tits. You let out a whiny sound as you began to kiss him back again.
Peter’s thrusts became more erratic as he drew closer and closer to the edge. He felt your thigh tense and your hips lifted off the couch, pushing into his lower abdomen. Your arms tightened around his neck. 
Your kisses were still messy, you used far too much tongue and had little technique but Peter had never had a better kiss. He came abruptly when you moaned into his mouth again, hand pulling on the hair at the name of his neck. He pulled away from you and groaned, out of breath into your shoulder as he steadied himself.
“Pete,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to be so eager.”
Peter was taken aback. He didn’t respond as he regained his composure into your warm shoulder, inhaling your scent. His cock was slowly going soft but the proximity to you made him believe that it would shoot back up with any movement you made. 
“I just,” a pause, “I guess I got a little carried away.”
It baffled Peter that you thought any of what happened had been your fault. As if he didn’t invade your space and force your head into place so he could get himself off.
“It’s okay, bunny.”
You buried your head into his shoulder and there was no sign of parting for a while. Peter only pulled away when he felt his hot cum seeping through his pants in a wet puddle. His movements were quick when he grabbed a throw pillow and threw it over his lap.
“You know I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”
+
You had spent an increasing amount of time with Harry over the last few weeks. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you’d thought he’d have grown bored of you by now. But it seemed the opposite. He texted you often, smiled at you in a way that made you feel warm and special, and he seemed genuinely interested and excited to speak to you. You hadn’t felt that way since you met Peter.
It had been the only thing on your mind for the last week. Well, that and your mess of a friendship with Peter Parker.
After the kiss shared with Peter, you had spent less time with him. On top of plans with Harry, you felt guilty for how you acted. You felt that you had taken advantage of him and his kindness. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and in a way uncomfortable around Peter now. You knew it wasn’t his fault, it was yours. And he deserved better.
You began to ignore his calls and texts and you took different routes to and from your classes. You even stopped replying to Ned and MJ after they began questioning where you’d run off to. In a way that comment made you feel a little ridiculous. It was like they expected Peter to be dragging you around on a leash. Like you were his little pet or something of the like.
That wasn’t Peter’s fault though. You didn’t believe anything was. Peter was a saint in your eyes. Your savior of a life of solace. That’s why you felt the worst you ever had about locking your window. 
The first night, you had pretended to be asleep when you heard light taps on the glass. You closed your eyes and ignored the noise, waiting for what felt like hours to move again. 
Now, almost two weeks later, you had finally been confronted.
Peter looked at you in a way you had never seen and couldn’t decipher. His lips were pulled in a tight line and his forehead and eyebrows were creased, his eyes looked darker and his gaze was hard and they held a different feeling. Even the air around him felt different, it was cold and suffocating.
“You’re avoiding me.”
“Hm? Oh, no, no, Pete m’not-“
“You are.”
You opened your mouth to speak but your words were caught in your throat. You were avoiding him. 
“Why? Did I do something to upset you?”
“No,” you took a deep breath, “I’ve just been busy-“
“Busy? With what? Osborn? He keeps you so busy that you can’t even respond to my texts?” 
You felt your lip quiver and your eyes welled up with tears at his tone and his unwavering stare. Peter had never reacted this way towards you. You didn’t even know he could speak that way. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, so you looked down at your feet and attempted to blink away your tears.
Peter looked down at you, waiting for you to say something, anything. He wanted - no, he expected an apology. He had been restless the past few weeks, waiting for you to respond to him. He had been following you around as New York’s friendly neighbor Spider-Man, so he was well aware of what you were up to. He watched as you found new routes to your home, hid away in obscure places, and, of course, he watched your giddy expression as Harry Osborn gripped your hand or your waist and walked around with you on his arm as if he owned you.
It didn’t help that Peter had seen you locking your window. Double-checking, triple checking that you had locked it, and then periodically again throughout the day. At first, Peter suspected that you had known he got off on your thigh that day, that you were creeped out or disgusted by him. 
“So? What is it? Why have you been avoiding me?”
You sniffled and Peter surprised himself when he didn’t soften at the noise. He didn’t feel the usual tighten of his heart nor did his stare at you become less intense. He wanted you to feel like this. It made it feel a sort of power having you vulnerable in front of him, for him.
“Y/N, I’m speaking to you. I expect an answer. Did you lose your ability to speak to me when you started fooling around with Osborn? Neglecting me? Neglecting our friendship? Does it mean so little to you?”
Tears started falling from your eyes at the sound of your name. Peter never called you that. You were his bunny, his best friend. You covered your face with your hands in shame. You weakly shook your head.
“So you can’t speak, hm?” 
Peter could think of a few ways to get you to start talking. Many scenarios to get your pretty mouth moving.
Peter had thought a lot about you recently, somehow even more than normal. His thoughts had turned alarmingly crude the more time you spent away from him. What was once an innocent daydream of kissing your lips turned into a filthy, sordid fantasy of flipping your skirt and fucking you over the table in the library where you studied with Harry.
Flashes of your mouth and body were intrusive thoughts and the feeling of them on him lingered. They left him unable to focus on patrolling, ultimately leading to him jacking off on the roof of the building across the street from your apartment. Some days, he was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of your bare legs through cracks in your sheer white curtains.
“M’sorry Peter,” you peered up at him through teary lashes, “didn’t mean to make you sad.”
He clicked his tongue, “well, you did.”
You let out a sob as you threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and tucking your face into his chest. His heart rate kept its steady pace and Peter stood still for a few seconds. Would he forgive you, no, could he forgive you so easily?
He focused on your warmth around him and he felt his walls lower. He begrudgingly hugged you back, taking in the feel of your curves under his fingers. He sighed, “it’s okay, bunny. Don’t cry.”
You wanted to cry harder. Normally, Peter would be cradling your face, wiping your tears, and pulling you close, enveloping you in his warmth. It was nothing like his tight grip and cold demeanor he currently had. You hadn’t meant to upset him so much but you just felt so guilty for possibly crossing or blurring the lines of your friendship. 
Peter knew he would give into you. The way you whimpered and cried into his chest made his heart feel heavy. He began to rub your back and he placed a kiss on your head. Your arms tightened around him. 
“C’mon, bunny. It’s okay, we’re okay.”
You whimpered again, doing all you could to collect yourself. Peter held you tightly until you lifted your head. 
Your face was red and puffy, wet with your tears and your eyeliner was smudged at the corners of your bloodshot eyes. Your lips were slightly opened as you breathed through your mouth. Your nose was runny and you sniffled, nose wiggling. Peter felt his pants tighten. You looked so wrecked and it was all for him. Because he was upset with you. He had that power over you.
“Are you okay?” concern filled his face.
“Mhm,” you said, shakily smiling. “Missed you.”
He smiled at you and you felt the warmth return, “I missed you more, bun. Should we catch up?”
You nodded frantically, grabbing his hand and pulling him in the direction of your apartment.
+
Things had since gotten much better. You were in Peter’s grasp once more and Harry Osborn had been moved to the backburner. 
You sighed as you switched your kettle on for a cup of tea. Peter was busy and you were stuck at home alone again. You were bored beyond belief as your eyes flickered from your TV to the warming kettle. Your foot tapped on the ground and you all but ran to your phone when the familiar ping came from it. 
Your eyes widened and excitement erupted in your belly. Harry had sent you a message.
hey stranger… u around?
You contemplated an answer. A part of you felt you shouldn’t respond but another was happy to hear from him.
Maybe
The response was instantaneous.
meet me at the bar
You smiled, rushing to your closet.
After making up with Peter you had begun to neglect your friendship with Harry. You were so focused on keeping Peter happy with you. This had become an increasingly difficult task that required a lot of time and attention.
Peter was easily bothered with you now. His patience would run thin and he would turn cold in the blink of an eye. You had spent nights crying, wishing you hadn’t ruined your most important friendship. But none of that stopped you from trying. 
You knew Peter didn’t like Harry, that was obvious. He’d roll his eyes and stare blankly at you with an expression of disappointment you had seen so much of recently whenever you would mention him in conversation. He made sure to remind you that Harry was just like other boys who wanted to take advantage of you and hurt you but he said nothing more.
As you walked into the cafe, Harry waved his arms in the air. You smiled, a blush forming as you took a seat across from him. He looked happy to see you, and he told you that. 
“I missed you, y’know,” he looked down, a pink hue on his cheeks. “Haven’t seen much of you recently.”
“Me too, um, sorry about that. I’ve been a little, um, busy.”
He looked up with a shy grin, “s’okay, I’m happy you’re here now.” You were slightly taken aback by his shyness. 
He paused, licking his lips and taking a deep breath, “so, Y/N, I’ve been thinking…”
Oh no, here it goes. He’s gonna tell you that he can’t see you anymore. That he doesn’t want to be your friend anymore. 
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
Your heart stopped, a date? You had never been on a date before. “A date?”
He cleared his throat, looking nervous, “uh, yeah. It’s just, that I’ve been thinking about you a lot, and I missed you so much the last few weeks. So I thought I’d finally ask.”
You exhaled, trying to process his question. “Yes, I’d love to,” you said, face warm and bashful smile.
+
It was cold outside as you walked back to your apartment. Harry had offered to drive you home but you declined, wanting some time alone to think. 
Your mind was racing as you turned into the alleyway before your apartment. You were going on a date with Harry Osborn. What would you wear? What would you talk about? What would you tell Peter?
You sighed, glancing around the dark alley. There was a spider web hanging from a pipe a few steps ahead of you. You began to walk a little faster. If Spider-Man was around there was likely some sort of criminal activity. Hopefully, it wasn’t too close to home.
As you rushed into your apartment, you didn’t bother turning on the lights. You shrugged off your jacket and kicked off your shoes, sighing deeply as you plopped down onto your bed. 
“Where were you?”
Your eyes darted to the source of the noise. The streetlight peering in through the window illuminated him just a tad, barely enough to see his face. But it didn’t matter, you’d recognize that silhouette anywhere.
“Peter? How did you get in here?” You distinctly remember closing the window, locking it, and double-checking before walking out the door.
“You were out with Harry. I saw you.”
“Oh, um,” you sat up and pulled your dress down, “W-we were just getting a drink.”
He inhaled deeply and hummed, “just getting a drink.” He let out a dark laugh, “sure you were.”
“We,” you paused, “we were. I haven’t seen him in a while.”
Peter scoffed, “and that’s why you agreed to go on a date with him, hm?”
You opened your mouth to speak but he didn’t let you.
“I thought we’d gotten past this, bunny.” Peter tapped his foot. Did you feel like you didn’t need him anymore? After all, he’d done for you? All these years by your side and you abandon him for the first man who gives you the time of day.
“Why don’t you listen to me? I only want what’s best for you. For us.”
You stayed quiet, looking down at your frilly, white socks. Peter sighed and you heard him rise from his spot on the couch. He lifted your chin with his cold fingers. His eyes looked dark again and the darkness of your room added to the eerie feel of him. He leaned down, fingers light on your chin as he drew closer to your lips. You turned your face away before he could connect your mouths.
What was he doing? 
He scoffed quietly as his hold on your face tightened and forced your face to its previous position. You furrowed your brows as you tried to turn away again. 
“Pete, what are you doing?”
“I’m tired of you treating me this way. I deserve better after all I’ve done for you. All these years I have been there for you. I made sure you were okay and I loved you through it all.”
He loved you? You didn’t like the sound of that. Peter was your best friend and nothing more and you dreaded the possibility that he could think of you as something more than that.
“I know that,” you whispered, “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
A tiny smile graced his lips.
You returned it, “and I love you too Peter, you’re my best friend.”
His grip on your chin turned painful.
Best friend. 
He laughed darkly as he shook his head slightly, “best friend.” He smiled.
Feeling uneasy you smiled softly at him, forcing out a giggle.
His smile fell, “bunny, I love you. I want to be with you. I want you to be mine.”
You gulped, “um,” you looked down, “Peter, I don’t, I don’t feel that way about you.”
“Why? Because of Harry? Because you have ‘choices’ now, hm? I’m not good enough for you?”
You stayed quiet, trying to steady your breathing to keep yourself from crying as Peter used his free hand to move up your arm to your shoulder, holding it forcefully.
You didn’t even know Peter was remotely interested in you. The entire confession made you feel sick to your stomach. While you hadn’t known, the revelation didn’t change the fact that, to you, he was just a friend. This had nothing to do with Harry and his romantic interest in you.
“No, Peter, I just, I’m sorry. I don’t like you like that,” you looked down and spoke so softly you doubted he could hear you.
He scoffed, letting go of your chin and shoulder with a push. You steadied yourself, looking up to see him pacing around the room. You wanted to ask him to leave, but before you could he turned to you again.
“He could never treat you like I do.”
“Peter…”
“No! He couldn’t. I know deep down you know that. He wouldn’t know what to do with a pretty girl like you.”
You shifted uncomfortably.
Peter watched as you fiddled with the hem of your dress. It was the purple one again, his favorite. Harry would never be able to satisfy you the way he would. He just needs to find a way to let you know that. No, he has shown you. Everything he had done since you met should have shown you. You were just… ungrateful. He needed to let you know that you couldn’t get away from him. There was no one else that could love you as he could.
Your heartbeat sped up as Peter took long strides toward you. 
“He doesn’t deserve you like I do,” he shoved his knee between your own and forced them open just enough to fit his leg between them. “And I’m gonna show you, that only I know how to treat you. I know what you deserve and I can give it to you.”
You were confused and scared, you watched him cautiously as he stood before you. 
His hand reached for your hair, he touched it lightly. You let out a shaky breath. You didn’t know what he was about to do. You weren’t sure what he was capable of anymore.
His fingers caressed your face, giving your chubby cheeks a light squeeze as he moved his hand down to your neck. You let out a shaky breath as his hands ghosted over your throat.
“Peter,” you whispered, “what are you doing?” 
He smiled, “I’m gonna make you mine, bunny.”
You felt your lip quiver and you hesitantly pushed his chest, trying to get him away from you. “No, Peter. I don’t want this.”
His hands tightened around your neck, “you don’t know what you want. You’re just a dumb bunny. You don’t know what is good for you. I do.”
Tears welled in your eyes as he leaned down to leave wet kisses on your cheeks and jaw, his hands on your throat. 
You moved your face away, side to side, avoiding his lips. His grip cut off your airways as he gave you a shake, “stop.” He pushed you onto your back, attacking you with kisses. 
Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to push him back. You should’ve been able to, even if it was just a little. But he didn’t budge. Your legs kicked his own trying to get him off. He acted like you hadn’t touched him at all. You bit down on his tongue as it forced its way into your mouth, he pulled back in surprise. You took the opportunity to wiggle out from under him, moving as fast as you could towards the door.
Peter’s temper was running thin. With quick movements, he activated the web shooter tucked under the sleeve of his plaid shirt.
You barely made it a few steps when you were pulled back. Your eyes went to Peter who was seated on your bed, a cold look on his face. The sight of your hand stuck to the table left you in shock. The sticky substance was too strong for you to pull back. You began to sob as you connected the dots. 
Peter was Spider-Man.
You didn’t know how you hadn’t figured it out before. You should’ve known. The random bruises on his body, the overnight strength, and agility, the disappearances, the way he always knew where you were and what you were doing… it should’ve been obvious.
“Peter, please, let me go,” you cried, using all the strength you could muster to attempt to free your hand.
He stood from the bed and took slow steps to where you stood. “You’re my little bunny, and you’re not going anywhere until you realize that.”
As he worked to free your hand you took the other and impulsively delivered a harsh slap to his cheek. Peter didn’t react right away. He kept his eyes on your hand for a few seconds before glancing up.
“Ungrateful little bitch.”
You inhaled, trying to stare at him with the same venom that he did you. He continued to free your hand, sliding the little knife across your thumb, slicing it. You hissed in pain. 
You were so confused, this man was nothing like the Peter Parker you knew and loved. This man was pure evil and you wanted to get as far away from him as you possibly could.
Peter stared at you in disbelief. Could you not see that he was only trying to give you the best? He had to make you see it even if it meant by force. He looked into your eyes filled with fear, tearing threatening to fall and your lip quivering. He wanted you so bad and he was finally going to have you.
Peter looked down, watching the slow drops build on your fingertip before falling onto the counter. Your hand was barely trembling and he softened immediately. He hadn’t meant to cut you so deep.
“I’m sorry, bunny. Are you okay?”
His change in demeanor puzzled you, he had gone from evil to the gentle Peter you knew and loved. 
You nodded stupidly, “mhm, hurts just a little, Peter.”
“Aw, bunny,” he said softly, taking your sticky hand and bringing it to his lips.
His tender touch had you in his grasp again, like he hadn’t just assaulted you, screamed at you, cut you.
He placed a soft kiss on your bleeding finger, eyes looking lovingly into yours. You fed into it like you always did. A drop of your blood rested on his bottom lip, and you watched as he licked it up with a swipe of his tongue. 
He closed his eyes, relishing in the taste of you on his tongue. His cock twitched and he ached to taste your pretty cunt on his tongue. He wasted no time.
Before you knew it, he was throwing you to the bed with ease, flipping your skirt up. He inhaled deeply, feeling his pants tighten further by the sight of your panties. They were just as cute as you. Just what he imagined you’d wear, yet somehow it was better. Your panties were a pale pink color, little hearts a darker shade of pink littering the fabric. He couldn’t help but stare, taking in the view of your pretty panties covering your perfect, plump ass. 
Cries escaped you, pleas for him to just stop. He ignored them, instead of giving your right ass cheek a little slap. He moaned at the cry you made, the way your flesh rippled at the impact.
You had been fooled once again. The Peter Parker you once knew was long gone.
Peter looped his fingers under the delicate fabric, your skin warm, he pulled up roughly. You yelped, arching your back to relieve the pain, but it only gave Peter a better look at your puffy pussy, bulging against the fabric he had pulled. 
“Oh,” he cooed, leaning down and placing a kiss on your ass.
Tears pricked at your eyes again, threatening to fall as you tried to rack your brain for ideas on how to get yourself out of the current situation. You gasped at the abrupt feeling of cold air on your cunt. The tears began to fall.
Unable to control himself, Peter placed a sloppy wet kiss on your cunt. You gasped loudly, trying to move your ass away. He held your hips tightly in place, pressing pecks along the entirety of your backside. A strangled moan fell from your lips as he kissed your clit. 
Peter stared at your pussy, admiring the wet string of slick that drilled from your little hole. He felt a sense of accomplishment at the drip of slick, he was making you feel good even when you resisted. Extending his tongue from his mouth, he licked up your slit, flicking his tongue as he did so. He moaned at the taste of your sweet juices. 
He finally let himself loose, allowing himself to bury his head into your puffy cunt. His hands groped your thighs, kneading them, keeping them apart so he had good access to your cunt.
You tried to hold in your body’s reactions. You held your breath, curled your toes, and turned your hands to fists. But you couldn’t stop a loud mewl as Peter swirled his tongue around your sensitive bud. You bit your lip as you contained sobs. 
Your fingers grabbed onto your sheets, squeezing them tightly as you felt yourself becoming more aroused. The lewd sounds from Peter combined with the wet sounds of your pussy. Peter was essentially drooling, strings of spit and slick keeping him attached to you even when he pulled back for air. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of you.
You felt a coil form in your tummy, tightening with every passing second.
“Are you gonna cum for me, bunny?” Peter asked, his voice deep. 
Your body was trembling and your hips unconsciously pressed into his face. You shook your head, closing your eyes tightly as your mouth opened involuntarily, a loud cry slipping out as the coil snapped. You shook, your knees going weak as your body was overtaken by the pleasant, but unfamiliar sensation. 
Peter groaned into your sopping cunt as he licked up your release. His cock was so hard it was painful, his mindless humping on your sheets wasn’t nearly enough. He held you up when your body gave in, on the verge of going limp as he continued his movements on your pussy long after you had become sensitive.
“Peter, please stop, hurts,” you managed to blubber out.
He pulled away, a string of spit connecting you. He watched as it snapped, falling onto his plaid shirt. He licked his lips, sliding his arms out from under your thighs. Your lower half hit your bed and you were unable to move. Your pussy throbbed from overstimulation as you laid dumbly. Weak little moans falling from your mouth. 
Peter reached a hand up to wipe at his face, collected the excess juices, and inserted his fingers into his mouth to consume it. He savored the taste, watching as your body jolted from the aftershocks of your orgasm. The skirt of your dress was scrunched around your waist and your ass was glistening under the streetlights from where he had drooled over it. Your thighs were in the same position they were in when he dropped them. He felt himself twitch, you were too weak to move them. 
Harry couldn’t have made you cum like that. He probably would even eat you out. What a waste of a sweet cunt that would be. He could live off your pussy alone he was sure of it. 
Peter rested a hand on your lower back as he stood from the bed. You glanced over at him, relieved that he was going to leave you alone. Your tears had stopped and you felt them drying on your cheeks. 
When Peter pulled off his plaid shirt and the gray t-shirt under it, you wanted to scream. You wanted to get up and push him out of your apartment. He had just forcefully inflicted oral sex onto you and you were terrified of where he wanted to go next. 
You couldn’t help your stare at Peter’s toned body. His defined abdomen and strong arms were illuminated perfectly under the soft light. You wanted to slap yourself as you felt yourself become slightly aroused.
You managed to sit up, slowly and gently seating yourself down. You instinctively reached for your stuffed bunny. You held it to your chest as you watched Peter fiddle with his belt. “Peter,” you called quietly.
Your hair was a mess and you had faint black tracks going down your chubby face. Your lipstick was smudged. Your thick, soft arms were clinging to your bunny. The bunny he had gifted you years ago. Your dress was askew and barely covered your thighs. 
“Yes, bunny?” he pulled off his belt.
“Please stop now. I’m sorry I upset you.”
He sighed and simply shook his head. “I helped you, now you need to help me.”
Helped you? You didn’t ask for his help. 
“But-”
“Look at what you did, bun,” he pulled off his underwear as he tugged off his pants. His cock sprung free and slapped his stomach. It was big and long and thick, protruding veins ran up its length, leading to an angry red tip. You felt your lip wobble, you weren’t even sure if it would fit. “It hurts and only you can make it feel better. You caused this. It’s your fault that this is happening.”
You weren’t sure what to think. Was this your fault? 
“Lay back for me, bunny.” he motioned to the bed. “I need gonna fuck your pretty pussy.”
You shook your head. 
Peter rolled his eyes, “do what you're told, stupid bunny. Don’t act like you don’t like it. Couldn’t you feel how wet you were for me?”
You stayed in place. He clenched his jaw and grabbed your ankles, pulling you until your back hit the cushion of your mattress. You tried to kick the hold of his wrists from your feet. 
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be,” he felt up your thigh, eyeing you in a way that made you feel self-conscious. You felt like prey.
“I always like this dress,” he said, tugging it up your body. Peter pulled your bunny from your arms to pull the material over your head. “It’s my favorite one. Looks so beautiful on you.” 
You reached for the bunny to cover yourself but were unable to reach it. You wrapped your arms around your tummy. Peter clicked his tongue, “no.” He leaned down to press kisses over your middle and he pried your hands away for better access. You felt tears brimming.
He pulled your bra off with ease, absentmindedly as he ran his mouth over your skin. You gasped and turned away, refusing to watch. You felt his tongue find your nipple and you hated the way it aroused you. He groaned and you felt his cock against your thighs. He kneaded your breasts as he kissed up your neck. He looked you in the eye as his cock found your cunt, running up and down the slit. 
“It’s gonna feel so good, bunny. You’re gonna crave my cock after. You’re gonna realize that no one is better for you than me. Fuck, you’re so warm and soft.” 
His cock twitched on your pussy, causing you to inhale shakily. 
Peter was so ready to be inside you. The warmth your cunt radiated made his cock ache so bad. He pushed his cock through your fold, watching as your face contorted. Your hole was pulling him in as soon as his cock head reached your entrance. It was like you were made to take him. 
Your face had a pained expression painted over it and your hole contracted. 
“Relax, bunny. Or it’s gonna hurt a lot more than it needs to. You were doing so well just now.”
He was too big, the further he sank into you, the more it hurt.
He couldn’t resist the involuntary thrust of his hips. You jolted up at the strength of them. As he pulled out he looked down. The sight of your loose tits, belly rolls, and puffy pussy around his cock made him feral. The red coat of blood on his pelvis made him feel a sense of accomplishment. He had you first.
He finally had you. All of you. And he deserved it all after everything he’d done.
Peter forced his way in until he bottomed out. Relishing in the way your tight pussy squeezed him. He knew it hurt from the way you had begun to cry and the way your body shook but he didn’t care. You’d adjust. Soon you’d be a stupid cockwhore. What he always wanted you to be. All for him. 
“Ow,” you cried, reaching your hand up to his back, seeking comfort.
“You feel so good,” he moaned.
Peter began a slow pace, pulling out just a little before sliding back in. your nails dug into his back as your head moved side to side, whines, and cries leaving your lips. More and more slick came from your hole as he continued his abuse. 
Soon enough his thrusts had gotten faster, harder and your thoughts were few and far between.
Fuck. 
I don’t want this.
Feels so good.
Peter’s hands were all over you. Running up your sides, squeezing your soft skin, playing with your clit, and caressing your face as tears fell from your eyes.
You weren’t sure when you had begun to cry or whether it was due to pain or pleasure. 
Peter moved his lips to rest on yours, kissing you in sync with his thrusts. You whined, moving your face away, “no, stop.”
 His hand that rested on your bouncing tits delivered a quick, harsh slap to your cheek. You cried out, tears falling faster. Peter pinched your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. You opened your eyes, watching as he spit into your mouth, a string of spit lingering. You clenched around him.
Peter chuckled, “you liked that. Dirty slut.”
You had stopped fighting him, too caught up in the feeling of his cock in your cunt. Peter knew you would. He knew you loved him, too. 
He fit so perfectly inside you like you were meant for him.
A string of “Hm, uh, uh's” and breathy high-pitched noises fell from your lips with every thrust Peter made. The noises harmonized with the squelching sounds of your wet pussy. It was music to Peter’s ears. The prettiest noises he had ever heard.
Soon, you felt a coil in your belly. It snapped a part of you back into reality, while the other was dumb at the feel of Peter’s cock.
“Peter, hm, Peter, uh stop, m’gonna-”
Peter shushed you, sloppily kissing your neck, “cum for me.”
You were lightheaded, the feeling was too good. Peter suckled at your soft spot and you felt yourself cum with a high whine. Your orgasm was more intense this time. Your mind was blank as tears poured from your eyes and your body tensed. Your back arched off the mattress and you scratched down Peter’s back, holding him close.
Peter felt dizzy, you were everywhere. He could feel you everywhere and he had never felt such ecstasy. He twitched inside you as your cunt clenched around his cock deliciously. 
You weren’t able to contain your moans as you cried harder, salty tears saturating the sheets beneath your head as he fucked you past your orgasm.
“I’m gonna cum inside you,” he said, voice deep with desire. The way your pussy fluttered around him became too much.
“N-no,” you shakily moved your hands down to his pelvis, pushing with all the strength your weak body could muster. “P-peter, don’t want,” black mascara-stained tears streamed down your face, your lipstick smudged up to your nose, and you looked absolutely wrecked.
“I didn’t fucking ask,” his voice was near a growl, “m’gonna cum in this pretty, puffy pussy. Listen to it scream for me, pulling me back in, fluttering around me. You want this.”
You shook your head, pushing once again, you let out a choked sob as he thrusted particularly hard, “N-no.”
Peter moaned loudly, squeezing your plump waist as he stilled. 
You could feel his hot, hot cum painting your walls. You felt a weight on your heart, he had coaxed multiple orgasms from you, stolen them and your innocence along with them. And now, he was inside of you. His cum had likely forced its way into your cervix, mingling with your most intimate of places. 
A small part of you liked it. You tried your hardest to ignore that part of you that enjoyed being full. So full of Peter. He was the best for you, after all. 
Peter thrusted a few more times, dreading the thought of leaving your tight, warm hole. 
You were everything he had ever imagined. Your plump body, your sugary sweet taste, your beautiful noises…
He would never let you go.
Peter gave your limp body a final kiss. You were too fucked out to react. As he pulled out of you he stared at your puffy cunt. It was wet with slick and sweat. Cum slid out of the abused hole. He took his finger and pushed it back in, loving the way you jolted and tried to close your legs.
Peter Parker loved to look at you. Even more so now, with you bare in front of him. Your skin was glistening under the rays of the artificial streetlights outside your window and remnants of your innocence were on his cock.
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plussizefantasia · 6 months
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Inky Black
Flufftober Day 12: Shooting Stars
Peter Parker x avenger!reader
Word Count: 1.0k
AN: Thank you to everyone who has read and liked every post so far for Flufftober, seeing those notifs during work always makes me smile. As always, please reblog if you enjoy this story and I will see you tomorrow!
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divider credit @royallaesthetics
The sky in Queens is never dark. It's never dark enough to see all the stars in the sky, not like you can in the compound. Peter used to love the stars. Uncle Ben used to take him on drives upstate when there would be a meteor shower so that they could see them together. When he died, Peter stopped watching them. It was too hard, too many feelings and memories wrapped up in the tradition.
You had called him earlier that day, letting him know that there was going to be a shower tonight, one of the biggest in recent history. The excitement in your voice was easily heard. Peter had a hard time saying no to you on a normal day, let alone when you’re that excited. 
The compound was in a prime star-gazing position. Howard Stark had a good sense of real estate when he bought the place however long ago for storage. There weren’t too many trees, so the skyline was pretty much clear. It was far enough away from civilization that there wasn’t any light pollution and it was tall enough that you could feel like you were a part of the whole sky. 
You’d never asked Peter to watch the stars with you, it was normally something you did yourself when the days got rough and you needed a reminder of everything that mattered. It grounded you. This meteor shower though, was a special one. And you wanted to share it with your boyfriend. You knew that he and Ben used to watch the stars together and you figured that it would bring back good memories for him. Spending time with the people he loves, watching the stars, and speaking their stories into existence. 
It was sufficiently dark, near 10:00 and the shower was supposed to start in about half an hour. There was only one problem. You hadn’t heard from Peter in a few hours. You had seen him walk into the common room when he had gotten home from class. He had left a kiss on your forehead while you lounged on the couch. After that, he had seemingly disappeared.
You weren’t going to miss the shower because of your missing boyfriend though. So you grabbed the flannel blanket from your room and threw on an old soft sweatshirt and a pair of fluffy socks. You grabbed something to drink and walked outside. Your favorite part of the compound was the sky lounge which Tony had installed after you had bugged him for literal months about all the free space up there.  
You went to begin the long-ish trek around the building to the roof access ladder when he called out “Need a lift?” 
Peter looked cozy, in a similar sweatshirt to your own with his soft blanket in his arms. He looked sheepish. No doubt realizing that he had disappeared for long enough for you to leave without him. 
Secretly he was charmed by your ability to be independent. He loved taking care of you, don’t get him wrong. But sometimes it was too much, knowing that the city relied on you was a tough pill to swallow. So knowing that you didn’t necessarily need him made him feel good. You didn’t keep him around because he was your superhero boyfriend, you kept him around because you loved him. Both parts of him, and you knew that sometimes being Spiderman was a bit too much, but you never really pushed him on it. After all, you knew all too well what it felt like to have the whole world rely on you.
He wanted to be there for you though, when you were excited about something that indicated that whatever it was mattered to you. Peter would rather lose his powers and become a nobody again than let you down when you cared. 
So he sucked it up, pushed down the overwhelming emotions and memories of nights just like this with the only father he had, and showed up for you. Because with you by his side, he thinks, it won’t be so bad.
You didn’t reply to his question just spun on the balls of your feet so you were facing him and walked right up into his chest. You wrapped your free arm around his neck and buried your face in his chest. 
Peter just smiled, kissed the top of your head, and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. Using the other to launch some webs up onto the roof and begin to swing the two of you up there.
Swinging with Peter was always fun, even when it was just small moments like this. The feeling of his arms wrapped securely around your body made you feel safe. You knew he wouldn’t drop you so you were able to fully let go and enjoy the feeling of weightlessness that came with defying gravity. 
All too soon the two of you were on top of the compound and setting up your blankets next to each other. Peter lay down first and you followed, laying your head on his biceps and looking up towards the inky black sky.
“Thank you.” he didn’t need to ask for an explanation from you, he knew that you were thanking him for being there for you. You had an uncanny ability to read him. You probably already knew that he was having some dark thoughts. But you also saw that he was trying hard to push them aside and be here in the moment. 
“Anything for you.”
“Ditto”. The two of you didn’t need any miraculous love confessions or elaborate grand displays. Ditto was enough. You loved him and he loved you and that was enough, even on the bad days.
The two of you spent the next hour pointing at stars, swapping made-up stories about sky warriors and goddesses that enchanted the dark. 
And if Tony was alerted by F.R.I.D.A.Y the next morning that you and Spiderboy were asleep together on the roof, well who is he to stop two kids in love?
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plus-size-reader · 1 year
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Spidey Sense
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Fics of Fall 2022
Peter Parker x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 2355 words
Warnings: none 
Summary: Carving a Jack-o'-lantern with Peter for the first time, which doesn’t exactly go as planned.
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Peter felt it before he heard you.
Pain. 
It was dull and faded as quickly as it came but it was there, a slight tingle under his skin, which could only really mean one thing.
It was you. 
His spidey sense only really got like this when you needed help. It felt different, more intense somehow.
So, before he’d even had a chance to realize what was going on or to put any thought at all into what it could have been, Peter shot up, turning to find that the space normally occupied by you in his bed was empty.
Which, coupled with the panic pricking at the corners of all of his senses, was more than enough to worry him.
Under any normal circumstances, it might not have been that big of a deal. There were plenty of innocent explanations for something like that, but the two of you didn’t exactly live under normal circumstances. 
You lived in a world where nothing was certain, and nothing was safe.
So, as soon as he heard that crashing and clamoring coming from the kitchen once again, he was off. It didn’t matter what was going on or where you were, he wasn’t going to rest until he figured it out.
He couldn’t help it.
Peter was already a bit touchy where you were concerned, but this morning, his mind was racing, cooking up several haunting scenarios that all ended in you being maimed and murdered.
His steps were careful and quiet as he rounded the corner from his bedroom until he found you in the kitchen, his focus set on the sound of your heartbeat as he tried to plan his next move. 
Your breath was even, all things considered, but your pulse was quicker than he would have liked. 
It wasn’t until he heard a muffled curse from you that he dropped his guard and emerged from his hiding place, finally blinking the sleep out of his eyes.
“Y/N?” he called, pretty confident now that you were alone. If someone else were here, he would have been able to hear them or sense them in some capacity by this point. 
Because sometimes superpowers were awesome.
Not that your being alone in any way explained what you were doing this early in the morning, or why you were bleeding. 
The answer to which wasn’t anywhere near what he was expecting, on either count. 
You sighed at the sound of his voice, disappointed in yourself for waking him up. You had been trying to get this done before the sun came up, as a surprise, but obviously, it wasn’t going to work now.
Stupid pumpkin. 
“I’m here” 
Peter could hear how defeated you sounded from where he was, but it wasn’t until he switched on the overhead light that he understood why. 
You were sitting there, in the center of the kitchen floor, with a pumpkin resting between your thighs.
For some reason.
He didn’t even bother to keep the laughter that bubbled up in his throat at bay because it was so ridiculous. 
You had to be kidding.
“What are you doing?” he muttered, taking in the sight in front of him with a mild, albeit sleepy, gleam in his eyes.
He had just woken up, after all. 
“I wanted to carve this stupid pumpkin for you, but it’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” you explained, gesturing to the large orange pumpkin which was laying in a lake of its own guts and seeds. 
It always seemed so easy, but now that you were attempting the seasonal craft for yourself, you realized you couldn’t have been more wrong.
This was impossible. 
“And, what happened there?” Peter wondered, recalling the initial reason for his waking when he noticed a thin line of crimson red blood, actively dripping down from your palm onto your wrist. 
It instantly set those same alarms off in his head as the man you loved crossed the room to inspect the wound, more for himself than anything.
He had to make sure you were okay before even acknowledging the rest of it.
“I slipped and cut myself” you shrugged, letting him paw at you as he saw fit until he was content that you would be okay. 
The cut didn’t look too deep, or dangerous in any way, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt.
He was sure it hurt.
There was silence between you for a moment as Peter busied himself cleaning up the cut as best he could with the corner of his tee shirt, which would surely be ruined after this point.
Not that he even seemed to mind. 
“How did you manage to cut your hand carving a pumpkin?” he wondered, what felt like forever, that familiar embarrassment returning to you all at once. 
This was what you got for dating an Avenger.
“I slipped,” you repeated, turning the gourd in your lap until he could see the face you’d begun to carve into it.
So far, you had managed to get one triangular eye mapped out, along with a small square nose, which was initially supposed to be another triangular.
You’d had to improve after narrowly cutting the tip of your pointer finger off. 
“This whole thing’s a bit more technical than I thought”
Peter laughed at that, this time letting himself get caught up in just how much he loved you. Of all the things that could have woken him up today, this was probably one of the most endearing. 
…and random. 
“Don’t laugh. I just wanted to be festive” you pouted, finally setting the knife down in defeat. Whatever it was you created this morning, it certainly didn’t look like any jack-o-lantern you’d ever seen. 
Still, Peter didn’t make fun of you. 
The end result of your effort was hilarious, but the care you’d put into it was real and it was obvious this mattered to you, so he wanted to help.
“I’m not laughing at you” Spiderman assured, that same gentle grin permanently affixed to his face that completely contradicted his point. 
He couldn’t help it.
You were just so cute. 
“Forget it. We don’t need a pumpkin anyway” you sighed again, a real frustration taking over now. You had really put everything you had into this, and having it go south so quickly had really put a damper on your mood. 
Thankfully, Peter wasn’t quite as easily discouraged as you were when it came to these things, mostly because he didn’t get to be. 
He had to be Spiderman, and that had changed quite a bit about him in everyday life too.
This wasn’t life or death for him like some of the things in his life were, and he didn’t have to put pressure on himself for it to be perfect. 
“I’ll tell you what…why don’t we get some breakfast, and get that cleaned up?” he suggested, vaguely gesturing to your hand until you gave it over so he could press a kiss to your knuckles. 
Then, before you could argue further, he hummed, filling the silence just enough to let you know he wasn’t finished. 
He knew you well enough to know that you weren’t just going to accept that.
“After that, we can figure this out together”
~
After breakfast had been eaten and Peter had actually gotten a chance to wake up, you two finally sat down with pumpkins in mind. 
You were going to do this. 
Even if it took all day. 
“So, have you ever done this?” you questioned, sitting down with your partially mutilated pumpkin and a clean kitchen knife, along with a purple patterned bandage, courtesy of the man you loved.
The last thing he wanted was for you to cut yourself again, especially not for a seasonal craft. 
Peter grinned, thinking about all the Halloweens he’d celebrated thus far, and all the happy memories he had. 
Memories that had never included carving a jack-o-lantern like this one, “Like this? No, but how hard can it be?” 
“I don’t know, but usually when you ask that something bad happens” you shrugged, doing some recalling of your own, back to all the times you were talking about.
Your boyfriend laughed, rolling his eyes as he thought it over. You had a point this time, but this time, it wasn’t that serious. All the damage that could have been done already had been. 
“I’m pretty sure we can handle this, babe” Peter assured, confident that no matter what, this wasn’t a monumental task and even if it was, you could figure it out together. 
How hard could it be? 
“So, what do you want to do first?” 
There was silence from him for a split second as your partner twirled the pen in his hand around a few times, considering what he wanted to do with what you’d given him. 
It was still a pretty blank canvas, and if anything, you’d given him more room to make something that was just a touch creepy. 
It was going to be so cool.
“I think you take this marker and draw a face on him, so we don’t just stab without any direction” he allowed, unscrewing the cap and handing it over to you so that you could outline a comical doodle on the face of the pumpkin. 
Peter had only watched Aunt May do this once or twice as a kid, but it seemed simple enough, especially considering all the things you two had done together thus far.
It should be simple, and it was. 
All you had to do was do it together. 
“What do you think? Like this?” you hummed, both you and Peter cocking your heads to the side just to survey your work from another angle. 
It was pretty good. 
Really good. 
“That’s perfect, just like you” came your boyfriend’s confident reply, a gentle peck falling on the side of your face. 
He loved you so damn much.
“Then, I think we just carve the inside of the shapes out” he continued, watching as you plucked the knife off the floor and set off on a mission to do just that, only for Peter to intercept you at the last second. 
“I think I’ll do this part if you don’t mind” 
It briefly crossed your mind to argue with this whole thing being a surprise and all, but after giving it another second thought, you realized what he must have been thinking and nodded.
There were only so many things one person could handle this early in the morning. 
Besides, if he cut himself doing this like this, it would heal far quicker than it would for you. 
You grinned, that same smile on your face that you hadn’t been able to push down since you came up with this idea in the first place. 
It was just so seasonal and fun. 
Peter was quiet as he focused, his attention mostly poised on the task at hand as he removed chunks and slivers of rind until finally, it was done. 
Once he’d decided it was exactly what he wanted, the man in question showed off his craftsmanship with a wide grin to match your own. 
It would be a lie to say that he didn’t get why people did this. 
It was fun. 
In fact, Peter was sure that this was, by far, the best idea you had ever had.
You hummed in approval, you should have known his steady hands would lend themselves well to a task like this. “Just like that, I believe we carved our very own pumpkin” 
“Now, all that’s left to do is find some candles and set it outside” Peter decided, immediately getting up to find where the two of you had left the candles last.
All of this was for nothing if you couldn’t put it out on display for the neighborhood.
So, that’s exactly what you did. 
Ignoring the cold chill of the biting fall air, you and Peter huddled around your pumpkin on the porch, watching as the candle he’d lit within it danced under the influence of the wind.
It was perfect.
The edges were a little crooked and one of the eyes was a little smaller than the other but considering how it came to be like that, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. 
“What do you think?” he hummed, reaching out to take your hand in his own as he admired the work you’d done together. 
It was pretty cute. 
You giggled, swinging your hands between you, “I think that I have the greatest boyfriend there’s ever been” 
“So, I’m curious, why didn’t you just get me up before you started opening it up?” Peter wondered, wrapping you up in his arms mindlessly from where he stood, and pulling you into his body.
It was so goofy. 
You knew that now, seeing how it went, but you also knew that he wasn’t going to make fun of you for this. 
In all the years that you’d known him, Peter had never made fun of you for anything. 
“I thought it would be a cute surprise” 
At your admission, Peter just shrugged again, recalling all the slamming and banging that had met him as soon as he opened his eyes “I don’t know. You weren’t exactly quiet” 
He had a point there. 
Not that you’d ever admit that to him now. 
“In my defense, I really didn’t think you’d wake up” you laughed, well aware of the exact reason you’d made the decision you had.
Peter had always been notoriously hard to wake up. 
For as long as you’d known him. 
Even given what you’d all taken to calling his spidey sense, he slept like a rock and it was hard to rouse him from that. Though, clearly, relying on that this morning had been a mistake. 
“Well, next time, why don’t we just sleep in and learn new things together” he grinned, wiping away a bit of pumpkin that had somehow ended up on your chin at some point during the whole exchange. 
“Sounds like a plan” 
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