#sub!peter parker x reader

[talaok]

Hiii! Can I request sub!peter waking u up in the middle of the night very needy? Tnks :)))

Pairing: Sub! Peter Parker x f!reader

warnings: sub! peter, unprotected p in v sex, lots of pet names for spidey, premature ejaculation (kinda), creampie, talk about oral sex (m receiving)

a/n: aaaaa i love sub peter soo much thank you love

At first, you thought it was morning already, you thought the needy kisses on your bare back and his hips grinding onto your ass were nothing more than what it was more mornings than not: the usual way Peter woke you up.

But once you opened up your eyes, once the darkness got the better of your sight, once you watched as no sun shined through the windows, then you realized your mistake

"Baby" you croaked, taking your time turning your head back to him, sleep still fighting to keep you close

"I'm sorry" he mumbled, his lips still busy with your shoulders "I know it's late- I just-I"

His hazel eyes were on you, lust and need fogging them deeply, and his hips hadn't yet stilled, he was grinding his hard cock against your ass like you hadn't just taken care of him a few hours earlier, like a man starved.

"I think I know what the problem is" a soft smirk played on your lips as you finally turned to him

Sleep could wait a few more minutes, you decided, you were never able to resist him when he looked so damn desperate.

"I can feel it" you murmured sultry, his eyes stapled to yours while his hands followed each movement you made, not wanting to lose contact with your skin even for a second.

"what do you need baby?" you spoke once you were before him 

"I-I just- I need-"

But your hand had found the bulge in his boxers, and words stopped existing altoughether in Peter's brain

"You need me to take care of you?" you teased, your fingers seeping underneath the waistband.

You swore he was holding his breath.

"'s that it baby?" you murmured, now ghosting his lips "need me to help you out a little, mh?"

The sound- oh the sound he made when your hands found his manhood, when you conceded him just the tinies stroke... oh you could have lived on that sound alone.

"yes" he gulped "p-please I need- I-"

Peter had never been good with words around you so you took his cock out, feeling him twitch in your hand

"I-inside" was all he could whimper "p-please"

You chuckled softly, but still, you did as he wished, draping your leg over him and sliding your panties to the side

"what's got you so worked up honey?" you asked, purring gently against his mouth

"I- I had a dream"

You smiled knowingly as you guided him to your entrance.

"dirty boy" you smirked as he slowly entered you, whimpering and moaning as he shut his eyes

"s-shit- y/n-" he cried, once he was filling you all up "g-god"

"I know" you cooed, stroking the back of his head as he started thrusting sloppily in and out of you "I know baby"

His left hand was pulling down your tank top to get to your boobs, and he let out a desperate moan once he was finally able to have one of your tits in his palm.

"so what was the dream about?" you murmured, fighting your own moans.

His cheeks changed colors, red now adorning them.

"I-"

"no need to be shy now baby" you smiled, feeling his cock hit that spot deep inside you once again

"It was about- y-you"

You grinned widely at that

"'s that so?"

"mh-mh" he nodded, eager to please you

“What about me?” You asked, your fingers playing with his hair just how he liked it 

You saw his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed thickly,

"y-you were" he sighed, burying his cock inside up to the hilt "You were g-going down on me" he stuttered, the pleasure he was already lost in only heightening as images from his dream crossed his mind

He whimpered as you clenched around him

"I was sucking your cock?" you taunted, making a soft fuck flee his mouth 

"y-yes"

"mh" you smirked, biting your lip "I do really like that" you murmured, mouth to his ear now "I love sucking your cock so much baby" 

A choked sound escaped him, and you could only chuckle as you kissed him right below his ear

"gonna remember that when I'm gonna wake you up this morning" you hummed

"y-y/n- f-fuck" he groaned, his thrusts even sloppier now, barely anything more than frantic desperate movements "p-please" he begged "I-I'm not gonna last if y-you"

But you didn't care, you never cared when it was like this, when it was only about him.

"don't wait for me"  

"b-but"

"don't worry about me" you whispered, leaving a soft peck on his lips "just be a good boy and cum inside me baby" 

Another moan mixed with a whimper and a twitch of his cock was his response

"can you do that for me honey?" you murmured, "can you come deep inside me?"

He was so close it was a miracle he still hadn't come.

His moans were breathless, all resembling your name or various curses, but still, he managed to say

"yes- yes, I ca-"

before he was painting your insides with his seed a moment later.

Your moans mixed with his at the feeling, and his head fell between your shoulder and neck as he cried out your name, his hips working hard to make sure every drop of him was inside you.

You continued drawing gentle patterns in his hair as he regained consciousness and caught his breath.

"thank you" was all he said once he finally raised his head to look at you

You smiled softly

"you don't need to thank me baby" you gave him a quick kiss, his hand going to your waist.

"I- I need to clean you up" he remembered, but you shook your head

"we'll think about that tomorrow, let's go back to sleep now, mh?" you suggested, and by the look of it, he was more than eager to agree.

"mh-mh" he nodded, as he scooted closer to you, his hands around you and your legs around him.

"g'night baby" you siad

"night" he mumbled, already half asleep

But as you both closed your eyes, and you started to get back into sleep's sweet embrace, you couldn't help but chuckle, as, a few moments later, you felt Peter's face nestle right between your breasts, which had apparently been chosen as his pillow for the night

"I love you" was all he was able to mumble, not even giving you time to respond before he was already dead asleep.

"I love you too honey" you said nonetheless, Peter's long breaths filling the darkness as you joined him in his sleep.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #sub peter parker #sub!peter parker #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #sub!peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #tom holland #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #spiderman x y/n #peter parker x f!reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman smut #spiderman #dom peter parker #spiderman no way home #spiderman far from home #spiderman homecoming #avengers

[astxroiid]

queen sized bed // mcu!peter parker

❥ one bed, motel after midnight, friends, young love, nsfw/18+, smut with a side of plot. dom!reader, mommy kink, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cream pie. ib: a little death by the neighbourhood.

wc: 2.7k (of pure filth + some fluff at the end)

navigation

You huff, flopping down on the motel bed, still a little frustrated from dealing with the receptionist at the front desk.

He had definitely been more of an asshole than he needed to be. And considering you and Peter have just gotten off a rough mission, you definitely aren’t in the mood to deal with him.

Poor Peter ended up having to step in and diffuse the situation before you decked the concierge. You rub your face, trying to think less angering thoughts.

“I think I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, while you sit up and start rifling through your black duffel bag.

“Okay, just let me know when you’re in the shower. I wouldn’t want to turn around and catch you naked because of this stupid open floor plan.” yes you would. Peter laughs nervously.

“Sure thing,” you grab the last of your shower supplies and walk through the bathroom archway and begin to strip.

Peter tries his hardest to focus on unpacking his stuff but his ears keep returning to the sounds of items of your clothing hitting the ground. His mind following suit in wandering to you slowly undressing. Revealing more and more of your soft body.

“I’m in now, Pete,” you call, pulling him from the thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be having about his best friend and team member.

“Okay,” his voice cracks. Peter mentally face-palms.

He hears the water running and his mind slips back into his thoughts of you; the water cascading down your body, the way the soap will flow from your hair down your spine, or how the body wash would look after you ran it all over your—

Thud. “Shit!”

You dropped a bottle, bringing him back to reality.

Stop thinking about your friend like this, Peter. Be real with yourself, man.

ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

You finish washing all the soap off your body and reach past the curtain, grabbing your towel and begin drying yourself. Attempting to get as much water off of your person as possible.

Once you’re dry, you wrap the towel around your body and step out of the shower.

You look up, eyes landing on Peter’s bare back.

He’s looking into the sink while brushing his teeth - wearing only his black sweats that you love so much.

Feeling a wanton throb between your legs and a small burst of confidence - you walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Peter continues bushing his teeth while he moves his free hand down to yours, lightly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

You both smile.

It’s clear Peter doesn’t understand the energy you’re trying to set. So, you help him get there a little faster.

You glide the hand he’s not holding down his chest. Using just your middle finger to make a path to the waistband of his sweatpants.

Your finger trails from side to side, following the line of his pants seam, lightly brushing over the small patch of hair that disappears beyond his sweats.

You can feel his breathing faltering and hear his heart pounding in his chest. Though; you’re not sure if that’s due to your ear being pressed to his back or the fact that his heart is just beating that loud.

You let your finger dip just beneath his waistband, loving the way his breath hitches in response.

You keep moving your finger back and forth, teasing the poor boy.

Feeling satisfied with how flustered he is - you back away and Peter tries his best to focus back on brushing his teeth.

“Pete?” You call softly.

He glances up, looking at you through the mirror right as you let your towel drop to the floor. Peter flips his head around to look at you - unobscured by the foggy bathroom mirror.

He lets out a breath, letting his eyes rake over your entire body.

“Well? Are you just gonna stand there and gawk or are you going to come over here and touch me, Parker?” You tease.

“Right,” Peter shakes his head, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth and quickly moving to you. He stands tentatively in front of you, unsure of what to do first. He looks down at you questioningly.

You giggle and grab his wrists. “Have you ever done this before?” The question is genuine.

Peter’s face goes red. “Uhm... no," his response barely audible. He tilts his head down in shame.

You smile while you move his hands to your breasts. “That’s okay. Let me teach you.”

His hands gently caress your chest and you let out a soft noise that makes Peter’s knees go weak.

“Please?” He begs, feeling a pull on his groin as you arch your back into him. He massages your breasts, attempting to - and succeeding in getting more noises from you.

He slowly slides his unoccupied hand between your thighs, rubbing between the folds, finding your clit with such ease you have to wonder if he lied about his inexperience.

Any coherent thoughts you had left the moment he pressed his finger into you and started rubbing at an amazing and yet still agonizingly slow pace.

You glide your hands up his arms and to his face. Bringing it down to yours. You kiss him softly, moving your mouth in an easy rhythm for Peter to follow along with.

Peter moves his middle finger to your entrance and pauses for your permission. You grind yourself against his hand, hoping that’s enough of a yes.

He takes it and slides his fingers in with ease, surprised at how wet you already are.

“Fuck, y/n,” he moans into your mouth. His sweats tighten as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, lewd noises already making their way out of your mouth.

He’s lost in the feeling of you. It’s all he’s ever wanted and more. Just you and him. Melding together in such a beautiful way.

The hand on your breast moves to your hip where he rubs his thumb over the bone lovingly.

You move one of your hands to the side of his throat as you start to kiss his neck, leaving marks everywhere while grinding your hips back and fourth on his hand.

Pete’s breath leaves him almost completely, knowing anyone could see what you’ve done to him turns him on more than he thinks you could know.

You pull away abruptly. Peter feels as though he's missing a piece of himself as he watches you walk away.

You're at the bed, beckoning Peter over with a finger.

He wastes no time. Quickly walking to you and smashing his lips into yours.

Your hand trails down Peter’s chest and beneath his sweatpants. You massage him through his boxers and he groans into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already told you, it would have been an easy guess that he’s only ever touched himself.

“You’re so responsive,” you tell him as you part from his kiss to catch your breath. “I love it.”

Your hand moves out of his pants to his hair, tugging lightly on the soft brown locks. He groans again.

You smile.

“Lay down on the bed for me?” you ask softly.

He nods his head, eager to oblige any command you give to him.

He spreads out on the bed, propping his head on the pillows and making sure to get exactly how he thinks you want him.

“Good boy.”

Peter can’t explain the pride that swells in his chest at the praise. All he knows is that he’ll do anything to get you to say it again.

You crawl on top of him, straddling his waist as you lean in to kiss his neck again. Peter’s hands grip at the sheets as he attempts to hold himself back.

You move your mouth down to his collar bone, sucking on sensitive spots. You feel peter writhe and moan beneath you

You slowly move down his chest, taking your time the lower you get.

You smile up at him and pull on the elastic with your teeth, releasing it and letting the material pop back down on his skin. You tease him more by lightly trailing your finger around his lower stomach.

Peter makes a strangled noise. “Y/N... please,” he begs breathlessly.

“Please, what, Pete?”

“T-touch me. Please. I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he’s on the verge of whining.

“Since you asked so nicely...”

You pull his sweats down at an agonizingly slow pace, then doing the same with his boxers.Savoring every inch of new skin being revealed to you.

Once Peter’s dick is free, it springs up and lays flat on his stomach.

You feel heat rush to your core, along with a familiar wetness.

You bite your lip and take it in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the head.

Peter’s own head falls back against the pillow as his hips and legs shake.

“I’ve barely touched you, baby,” you note and peter could probably cum just from the sultry tone in your voice.

He whines and grips the sheets.

You use his eyes squeezed shut to your advantage and surprise him with your tongue licking up his cock.

Peter gasps and looks down at you. You smile back as you take him in your mouth, moving your lips all the way down to the hilt.

The noise that comes from the man beneath you is divinity. You to moan around him. His legs shake and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth.

You gag, which only causes him more pleasure and a small mmph noise makes it’s way out of him.

He grabs a light fist full of your hair, pulling you away from his cock.

"y/n, if you keep going I'll finish now," he's out of breath, sweat starting to form on his chest.

"That's the plan," the deep tone and tantalizing wink you give him as go go back down have chills running all across his body.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Peter's while lower half convulses and you wrap you mouth back around him, grabbing a handful of his balls.

You wrap your free hand around the base of his cock. "You wanna cum peter?" You slowly pump his cock.

"'Wanna cum inside you... please," he struggles.

"Oh, baby. There's plenty of time for that," Peter feels like his heart is gonna explode from the leisurely pace you're stroking him at. "I'm asking you if you want to cum in my mouth."

He throws his head back and says through gritted teeth; "Fuck... yes, god, please..."

"Yes, what?" You prompt.

Peter's mind swirls with every possible word he could respond with in a matter of milliseconds. And, without thinking, he mistakenly says the one he's only thought about in his most intimate fantasies.

"Yes... mommy."

Fuck.

Peter looks down to see you smiling at him with mischievous grin.

"Mommy?"

His blood runs cold. Fear holing him still.

"I could get used to that," you wrap your mouth around Peter's balls, sucking hard as you go back to pumping his cock. Languid movements driving peter crazy as his mind swirls.

"Uh, fuck. Oh my-- shit, y/n..." he's loud, almost enough to make you worry about any residents in neighboring rooms.

You take your time, moving from sucking his balls to his cock, using any movement necessary to make him feel good. Completely focusing on pleasing the man beneath you. And you're doing an amazing job, you can tell by the noises. The occasional curse word surrounded by your name, blasphemous words, and a lot of whimpering.

He's close. The way his knuckles turn white as he grips the bed sheets. His thighs tightening, muscles flexing. His lips are pressed together and his whole body is stiff.

You bring your mouth down on his dick, taking all of him and squeezing his balls up to his shaft. You bring your pace up as fast as you can, relentless.

"H-holy, oh fuck- y/n."

Warm ropes of cum shoot down your throat, coating your esophagus in him. You swallow it all, continuing to suck at him until his whole body is shaking violently.

You pull off him with a pop, smiling like the devil.

Peter's out of breath, looking like a shell of a man and yet, so fucking hot. He's covered in sweat, chest, face, and thighs glistening. His cheeks are a rosy red you haven't seen from him before. His chest is heaving for air.

You kiss him so hard it steals any oxygen he might have gotten straight out of him. He grabs the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you harder into him.

He's the one to break the kiss, still attempting to breathe. "You're amazing."

You smile. "C'mere," you lay on your back, pulling him on top of you. He props an arm on either side of your head, leaning down to kiss you as you place your arms around his neck.

You wrap your legs around Peter's waist, rubbing your soaked core against his cock. He whines for you in return.

His legs shake at the sensation, due to his sensitivity and a near-feral need for you. You pull away from the kiss, biting your lip.

"Peter," you breathe, almost a moan. "I want you inside me."

Words Peter Parker never believed he'd hear except when dreaming. He feels his cock start to harden again.

You feel it as well. Taking it as a sign to keep on.

"Peter... please," you pull his ear next to your mouth and whisper low; "i wanna feel your cock inside me."

He shudders, fully erect by now. Peter quickly grabs his dick, lining himself up with your entrance, waiting on your consent. He looks at you, the question in his eyes.

"Yes, peter. Fuck me," he needs no more reassurance. He slowly pushes into you, both yours and Peter's legs shaking from the pleasure.

"Ffffuck-" you interrupt yourself with a moan. One that makes Pete's brain go foggy, the only thought being fucking you.

He grabs your hips, expertly sliding himself in and out of you at a pace near divinity. Your mind is wiped of any coherent thought that could've ever been there except for the question of how he is do good at this.

"Fuck, shit. 'So tight." Peter rests his head on your shoulder as he fucks harder into you.

It's beautiful, in the most obscene way. The way your warm bodies are practically glued together, moving in a rhythm only your souls know. The noises flowing from your lips already have Peter rocking on the edge of release, and the groans from him are doing the same to you.

You place your fingernails at the tops of Peter's shoulders, dragging them down his back then around his ribs.

He takes in a breath, shuddering. "Fuck, fuck, y/n. I'm close. So close..."

"Cum inside me, Peter. Please," your walls clench hard around him and the sounds of his whines.

The feeling of your warmth wrapped around his cock, mixed with your sounds are the purest form of ecstasy for Peter.

He reaches between your bodies, pressing his fingers against your clit and circling fast.

"Oh fuck, oh my god," you moan loud, your whole body tensing as you cum harder than you ever have in your life around Peter's cock.

You look down, seeing you've squirted all over his lower half. Fuck. There's no time to think about it because Peter is following behind you.

He grabs your hips tighter, pulling your body as close to his as possible. Peter cums deep inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of his seed.

The way he looks in this millisecond of a moment will forever stay in your brain. Toned abs covered in sweat and glistening. Chocolate curls a mess, falling in his face. Face towards the sky, screwed up from a pleasure he's never felt before.

The way the light falls around his face illuminates him beautifully. Angelically even.

Peter pulls out of you slowly, both of you too sensitive. He walks to the bathroom, bringing back a damp rag.

"Here," he gently helps clean you up. Afterwards he cleans himself, tossing the rag and putting a new pair of boxers on. He hands you one of his shirts.

"Thank you," you pull the shirt over your head, feeling incredibly loved by Peter. Which prompts you to say; "Peter, I love you."

He smiles and looks so giddy he might float away. He crawls into bed, cuddling up to you. "I love you, too."

This one's been in the works for a while but holy shit, even I'm all hot and bothered from this lmao.

Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank y'all for reading!

#marvel #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker oneshot #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #sub peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x dom!reader #sub!peter parker #sub!peter #sub!peter parker x reader #virgin!peter parker #mcu!peter parker x reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker x you #mcu peter parker #mcu peter x reader #mcu spiderman #mcu Spiderman x reader #pete

[subbypeterparker]

can i request like a longer proper fic version of peter cumming while giving you head but like incorporating the hair pulling as well if you get what i mean

cumming by hair pulling + eating out

[masterlist]

you can hear him underneath you, moans muffled by your thighs clamped around his head. peter’s curls are moving against your thighs, tickling them while his mouth is busy pleasing you.

he’s been not-so subtly grinding against your foot while he eats you out, already achingly hard just from his face being between your thighs.

you’re sitting on your kitchen table, gripping the sides of it while peter sucks on your clit. you throw your head back, letting out quiet moans. you’re squirming from the pleasure you’re feeling, and peter’s letting out little whimpers as he continues to dance around your cunt with his tongue.

every time his tongue enters you, your body leans forward, and you need to grip the counter hard so you don’t fall on peter’s face. not that he’d mind.

“are you close?” peter looks up at you, kitten licking your clit while you take a breath to talk. you’re too busy with the pleasure you’re feeling, so you just nod and push his face closer towards your cunt.

while he begins suckling your clit, your hands drift up to his curly locks, pulling slightly. peter lets out a very loud whine at the gentle sensation of you tugging his hair, and shifts his hips faster against your foot, bucking up when you continue pulling his hair.

“fuck, you’re really desperate from doing this? huh, baby?” you can’t help but tease the blushing boy between your legs.

he lets out a little whine and nods, pressing kisses to your clit. you let out a whimper, and arch your back, pressing your cunt closer to him. peter can feel himself leaking precum into his boxers, and you throw your head back, tugging his hair even harder.

peter can’t resist anymore, reaching a hand down to his pants, rubbing himself through the material. you see his movements, but can’t bring yourself to stop him when his eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

“baby, does that feel good!” you chuckle, pushing his hair off his forehead.

peter slowly opens his eyes to you looking down at him with a small smile. he returns it, but then his eyes drift down to your neglected cunt in front of him, dripping just for him.

his eyes widen, and he removes the hand playing with his clothed cock, letting it fall on your thigh, while his other hand grips your other thigh, keeping them apart.

“gotta make you cum,” his eyebrows are furrowed, and you can’t resist tugging his hair to pull him towards you.

his tongue pushes inside you, and you find yourself arching towards him. his hands move to cup your ass, pushing you further off the edge of the counter, almost sitting you on his tongue.

“baby, what’s gotten into you?” a few seconds ago he was touching himself, and you were more than happy to help him out.

“i’m already…close…you know?…” he trailed off, embarrassed that he admitted he was getting himself off to eating you out.

you can’t help but let out a small moan at the fact that he can feel like this because of you. your legs clench around his head when his tongue enters you while his nose bumps against your clit.

your toes start curling from the pleasure, and you let out moans and whines that go straight to peter’s cock. he shifts his legs together to release some of the tension, and looks up at you.

he can almost see your hard nipples through your shirt, and can see your head thrown back in pleasure. your thighs are clenching around his head, suffocating him, and peter can feel himself getting so close to cumming.

you’re harshly rolling your hips against his face, chasing your impending orgasm. peter has taken to humping your leg again, moaning against your cunt when he can breathe.

you look down at him, at his chestnut curls splayed out on your thighs, and give them a sharp tug as your head falls back, and you cum with a shout if his name.

peter moans out into your cunt, vibrations helping you through your orgasm, and he cums in his pants.

you’re both panting as you come down from your respective highs. peter can barely keep his head up, and drops it onto your thigh. his eyes slide shut in bliss, and you notice the wet patch on his pants.

you run your fingers through his hair, pulling a smile from the boy.

“hi,” you softly say.

“mmm hi,” he mumbles out, grinning at you.

“think i’m gonna half to carry you to bed, honey,” you motion down to his collapsed legs on the floor.

both pairs of eyes narrow in on the cum patch on his pants, and you chuckle to yourself.

“didn’t know you liked having your hair pulled,” you tease.

——

sorry this was all extremely rushed! but thank you all so much for 2.1k! i love you all!!

#subbypeterparker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #sub!peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagine #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #peter parker one shot #sub!peter #sub!peter parker x reader #sub peter parker x reader #sub peter parker

[sugugori]

Tough men who get whiny and pliant while just making out. What started off as sweet kisses here and there, turns into something much more primal. Him pulling you closer, getting more and more desperate and needy, doesn’t know where to put his hands. Bucking his hips and panting because he’s already close from a little tongue. Pulling little pitchy “mhm”’s from them and whispering quiet pleases. He’s got that glassy, far away look in his eyes and his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. Just a few kisses from you turns him into a virgin again. And if you keep kissing his neck like that, he might cum in his pants - he’s so sensitive

#he’s so cute #baby #gojo #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #gojo smut #pretty boy gojo #gojo satoru #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter smut #jjk x reader smut #peter parker x reader #sub!gojo

[havensins]

Fucking Peter parker and using magic to bind his hands together and make him even more sensitive

i love this. and don’t forget to vote on my poll! tw daddy kink !

peter is already sensitive enough without you having to do anything to enhance it, when you use your magic to tease his nipples or press against his erogenous zones, he’s absolutely done for.

having him bound with his arms bended at the elbow and folded against his chest as you fuck him in missionary. big, salty tears are staining his cheeks, his hair is messy on his head and his thighs are quivering where they’re wrapped around your waist.

the way you’re ducking him is harsh and unforgiving, and the sounds that we’re being forced past his lips reflected your actions. “c’mon, talk to me parker… or has every thought in your pretty little mind melted away?” you ask him, leaning down to kiss at his tear stained cheeks.

“‘s soooo much!” he drags out and whines, breathing heavily as his cock pathetically drips with more precum on his stomach. you hum, leaning forward to drape your body over his and frame him with your hands on either sides of his head. you dip down to meld his lips with yours, swallowing his moans as you slow your pace and settle for slow and equally as harsh thrusts.

“you can take it baby, fuck, i know you can,” you murmur as you pull away from his lips. he’s fighting the urge to close his eyes as he stares at you. his dark brown eyes are dilated and hazily clouded with need, you stare back at him as a smirk tugs at your lips.

“you just wanna be good for me, huh love?” you murmur, kissing down his jaw. “yes, yes! w’nna be the best for you,” you whimpers, and you could feel his cock twitch between your stomachs. you grin, slithering a hand between your bodies, to tug at his cock.

he lurches at that, back arching into your chest and hands grasping at nothing where they’re bound to him. “c’mon peter, i w’nna make you feel so good.” you’re grunting and moaning in his ear about how fucking tight he is, and it does nothing to stave off his impending orgasm.

“daddy…” his voice cracks and breaks on the word as he gasps and squeals, spurting his cum into your hand. his eyes roll back and the sight alone as you gripping the sheets as your stomach tightens and you cum into peter. he whines, cock twitching weekly at the feeling of being so utterly used and filled.

#answered #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #avengers x reader #sub!peter #sub!peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #sub peter parker #sub peter #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader #sub avengers #sub marvel #peter x reader #peter x male reader

[l1tw1ck]

44,46 and 56 with Tom's peter? Top dilf reader 🙏

Assistant Peter

bottom!ftm peter x top!masc!DILF reader

↳ [Event] | AFAB Language Used

CW: Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Creampie

Peter started working as your assistant a few weeks ago and he's been an amazing help, especially when it comes to your kids. He doesn't have to but he always offers to babysit them when you're busy in your home office. He's liked you since the start and you slowly started to develop feelings for him too. Although nothing happened until the day you two were finally home alone.

Peter bumps into you and drops his phone, he apologizes profusely before realizing what's on his phone. Peter doesn't get a chance to hide his screen thanks to you picking it up first.

You weren't going to look to protect his privacy but you saw your name in all caps. “You’re texting about me?” You chuckle, bringing the phone closer to get a better look.

“Wa- wait!”

You read the entire text despite his protests. It was him telling his friend about how much he loves your “dad bod” and how you're so tall that you literally tower over him, about how badly he wants you to fuck him until he sees stars, and about how he’d love for you to come inside of him. That's only half of the paragraph he sent. Peter watches your expression shift from playful to lustful. There’s a visible tent in your pants and he’s beyond grateful it worked out this way.

You have Peter lying down on his now empty desk, various items have been strewn across the floor carelessly aside from the computer that was carefully placed elsewhere. He’s mostly naked with his legs spread, showing off his dripping wet pussy. Peter looks down and gasps as you enter him, you're much thicker than he anticipated but he isn't the slightest bit upset. “Mmh- Keep going, sir-” The feeling and sight of your cock stretching him out and entering him is only making him more excited. He brings his hand down to his stomach and presses down on the bulge you’ve created. “You're so big..” He breathes out.

“Does it hurt?” You ask, bottoming out.

Peter shakes his head. “Mo- move-” He moves his hips to further express how badly he wants you to fuck him. You hold onto his waist and start thrusting, fucking him exactly the way he likes it. He throws his head back and moans. He looks gorgeous like this, his hair is a mess from when you were making out with him earlier and he has a cute blush strewn across his cheeks. The desk creeks with each thrust. You're fucking him so hard you're afraid you might have to buy a new desk. You lean in to kiss him, jerking his t-dick as you do so. Peter moans into your mouth and clenches around your cock, eyes rolling back as you hit that spot. He holds onto your arms and digs his nails into your skin without thinking. He feels his entire body tensing up as he comes. You pull away from the kiss and let him catch his breath, slowing your thrusts to a halt.

“Wait-” He stops you, his voice is breathy. “Don't pull out..”

“I have to.” You shake your head. You didn't think he was serious about you coming inside.

He looks at you with the cutest expression you've ever seen. “Please come inside me, sir.”

“...Fine.” You can't say no to that face. As you start fucking him again, you find yourself being closer to your orgasm than you thought. It only takes a few minutes for you to fill up his pussy with your spend. You pull out and watch your cum dribble out of him in awe. He looks good like this.

#wicks🕯shorts #wicks🕯️events #top male reader #male reader #spider man x male reader #spider man smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x male reader #sub peter parker #marvel smut #marvel x male reader #🕯️peter parker #🕯️marvel

[taurder]

(n) sfw

we can agree peter b. parker is a different story. he's very vocal and loud, even in situations where he shouldn't be. he just can't help himself once your filling him up real good with your cock. even before that happens, the anticipation makes him talk and talk with no filter. you think maybe his mouth isn't capable of shutting up.

your theory was confirmed when the first time you pounded him doggy styled he drooled all over the bed. mouth fully open, still trying to mumble how good you felt, how full and happy he was as his cheek became wet from the saliva he kept accumulating.

not even a dick down his throat can shut him up. you could be fucking his mouth fully, deep thrusting into his throat and still he'll be moaning loud, making gagging sounds because his tongue keeps moving to enunciate the words he wants to say. you can kinda make out the thank you and more he repeats in between thrusts, and you'll let him know how much of a chatty slut he is as you feed him your cum.

it nevers get annoying, 'cause you do love hearing him describe how he can feel every inch of your length, or how close is he from cumming too. you'll add to it when he's half gone from the pleasure, praising his body as he repeats your name over and over, or you'll remind him how twisted and lewd he is for wanting to be so thoroughly fucked. he'll agree with whichever kind of dirty talk you choose for the occasion.

he'll beg and scream for you. peter will glow for every compliment you throw at him, and whimper as you degrade him to shreds. he can thank you and say he can't take it anymore in the same sentence. you counted twenty one times he repeated "i need it" while you were pounding him from behind in one occasion, 'cause poor thing's fucked mind can only retain three words tops if he has already come once.

you wonder how many orgasms he needs to only retain and repeat one word, your name.

still thirsty?

#peter b parker x you #peter b parker x dom reader #sub peter b parker #male reader #perter b parker x gn reader #top male reader #peter b parker x reader #atsv x you #gn reader #peter b parker #submisive and breedable #top reader x character #🌊 thirsty taur ❜

[nickgoesinsane]

Anyone else wanna fuck Peter B so hard that he briefly believes that he got pregnant? ✋

Just me?

Alright

Peter lets out a string of curses into the pillows as you ram into him one last time, your pelvis flush against the curve of his ass. You exhale sharply as you spill inside him, leaning your forehead against his back and stroking your hands over his soft body. He shivers in the aftermath of his own orgasm, panting softly as he tries to catch his breath. You press a kiss between his shoulderblades and ease your way out of him, taking a moment to admire the way cum drips from his hole in a pearly stream. 

“Gotta get a test… in the mornin’…” You hear him mumble, making you raise an eyebrow. 

You carefully move him onto his back, though not before pushing the soiled sheet off the bed. His eyes are heavy with exhaustion, but the expression on his face is undeniably satisfied. “Get a test for what?” You ask softly, confused, as you reach for the wipes on the bedside table. 

“I’m pregnant.” Peter tells you, his voice slurred and dazed. He sounds completely out of it, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. 

“Yeah?” You ask, gently wiping away the cum from his stomach and thighs. 

“Mhm.” He hums, his eyes sliding closed. “Super pregnant. Got a… tummy an’ everythin’.” 

“Okay, Pete,” You chuckle, tossing the wipes into the trash can. “We’ll get one in the morning.” You promise, slipping into bed and gathering him into your arms.

#╰┈➤ nick answers ! #he's so silly #spiderman brainrot #dom reader #top reader #sub character #sub peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter parker x reader #n/sfw #n/s/f/w

[demontonic]

can you do a gn TASM smut with a more subby peter 🙏🏽🙏🏽 i’m living for men whimpering rn

I LUUUUUV MEN WHIMPERING BABE I GOT YOU🫶🏼

Peter Parker (TASM) x GN reader - Pretty Boy

You’d been teasing Peter all day, you always did. You had more than enough knowledge on his every like and dislike when it came to intimacy, but nothing could’ve prepared you for today. Peter had you sat on his lap as he showed you the pictures he’d taken last night on patrol. His leg was bouncing like it always did, usually he tried to refrain whike you were on his lap but he was too distracted with talking to you.

Eventually he went quiet, his responses coming short and quick and his leg had come to a stop. You leaned against his chest and looked up at his face, his jaw was tense and his eyes were trained on the small camera screen. It wasn’t until you moved slightly that you felt the growing bulge in his thick sweatpants. The sound if him holding his breath only confirmed what your thigh was brushing against.

“Baby I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t worry pretty boy, just keep telling me about your night.”

By now you were in his room, laying in between his legs as he cums in your mouth for a second time. His teeth were biting down on the sleeves of his hoodie as your hand still pumped his sensitive shaft. The sounds coming from his throat were the closest thing to the sounds of heaven. His whimpers sounded so strained and desperate all it did was turn you on even more. His free hand stayed glued in your hair, gripping tight like you were the only thing keeping him on Earth.

“O-Oh ba- ugh fuck baby please I-I can’t.”

“Shh one more please Peter you’re doing so good for me I know you can give me one more baby.”

A quiet moan fell from his lips as his big brown eyes stared at you pleadingly. Yours were heavy lidded, high off of the sounds and reactions coming from the taller man beneath you. Tongue teasing the underside of his cock as his breath began to pick up again. A heavy sigh fell from his lips as he hesitantly nodded his head, your lips quickly finding their way back to his aching tip. The prominent veins pulsing in your mouth made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His hips jerked lightly before you pushed down on his hips so you could take his entire length.

“Oh- fuck baby wai- ohmygod.”

He mumbled incoherently as you continued to suck him off tauntingly slow, dragging out his torture. When you finally pulled off and began jerking him with your hand again his thighs flexed with every move.

“I-I can’t take it anymore please just let me cum.”

You pondered the proposal as his hands grasped at your body like a needy child.

“Fine, I can’t say no to my pretty boy.”

Your mouth made quick work of his tip, your hand jerking most of his length as your free hand rested on his sluty waist. His legs began to shake, his hips lifting deeper into your throat as he came hard. Your name falling from his lips like his saving grace, your ego being boosted miles above as he crumbled under you. His chest rose and fell quickly as he tried to regulate his breathing, his hands still holding onto you. A smile tested on your lips while he stared at you in a daze, like he’d never see anything more intricate than staring at you.

“I love you.”

“You better, because my jaw hurts.”

its really short but i wanna start doing small drabbles rather than doing 2k+ word stories! anyway if you want more from me check my email masterlist, I update it every time I post a new fic!

#peter parker #peter parker tasm #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #spiderman smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #peter parker smut #sub peter parker #men whimpering #marvel fanfiction

[marsbabysblog]

You wouldn't mind writing about Peter B being submissive af🙇‍♀️ pls

Where he goes so pussy drunk he can't think just cry and moan in younger readers shoulder while she rides him. Saying how good she takes him in and how good it feels.

Or anything you may think about pls🙇‍♀️ thank u, u are amazing. Love u ❤️❤️❤️

(Ps it's teaffrogy <3)

💗🥺 subby peter b parker w/ younger!gf 🥺💗

☆when peter b parker first met you, you were this cute “innocent” young woman. Falling in love with you was easy, you were so special, you made him feel young again.

☆and of course the sex was amazing! but it was a little different than he expected…he was the sub. sure you were younger than him and smaller than him…but dear god did you reduce that man to crying, pathetic, bottom.

☆he would eat you out while you guide his head, he’d be so pussy drunk and out of it, you would tell him to stop and he wouldn’t (of course that would earn him a punishment)

☆don’t even get me started on riding him. he would be squirming and gasping for air, your tight cunt sucking him in so perfectly. “F-fuck!” his moans and whines were anything but low. His voice would probably go higher than yours when he’s in sub space.

☆you can order him around how ever you like, he’d do anything for you! your favorite thing to do is control the speed he fucks you at. You let him go hard and fast, and when he’s close to cumming you make him go super slow and soft, ruining his orgasm. and of course he’ll whimper and get all teary eyed, but he would never disobey you.

i loved writing this one so so much, should i write an actual fic about this?

#peter b parker #atsv peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker smut #sub peter b parker #atsv miguel #atsv #spiderman atsv

[thewriterg]

♡︎𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭♡︎

Pairing(s): Peter Parker x Fem!reader, Peter Parker x Siren!reader, Sub!Peter x Dom!reader

Summary: At first he would’ve just been colateral damage but you couldn’t let him go and Peter knew you wouldn’t let him go and if you followed the plan you would be together truly soon —kinktober day; 21—

Word count: 1.0k+

Warning(s): Pure filth, Peter is 21, Mommy kink, oral m receiving, p in v, breath play, aftercare, a peak of manipulation, dirty talk, pet names, one mention of a drug —if you blink you’ll miss it—, and language

A/n:—GIFs aren’t mine— I got inspo from an Eddie fic I remember I read a looong time ago I tried to search my like but that was a lost cause so here we are

Peter felt that familiar chill rushing up his body, you were here and he didn’t even need to look at the time to see what the clock read it was 3:00am the time you came every night for the past six months

He felt your nails run up his abs him having to be shirtless and he still couldn’t help the fact but shiver and it never failed to put a dark grin on your face before Peter finally opened his eyes

“That was some stunt you pulled today with that Michelle girl hmm?” You questioned pushing at his lips softly with the pad of your thumb before he knowingly took your finger Into his mouth as you could here the soft suckling noises echoing through the darkness of his room before your other unoccupied hand slipped to his neck

“That was some stunt you pulled today with that Michelle girl hmm?” You questioned pushing at his lips softly with the pad of your thumb before he knowingly took your finger Into his mouth as you could here the soft suckling noises echoing through the darkness of his room before your other unoccupied hand slipped to his neck

“You’re lucky all I did was break that coffee pot because I don’t share, you’re mine and only mine and I’ve think that’s something you’ve seemed to forget” Your grip got tighter on his pulse point and Peter could feel himself get dizzy but refused to tap out it was euphoria in one swift motion

Peter had always thought you could read his thoughts because after one more squeeze you were off his neck while the lost oxygen returned to its rightful place in his lungs before you began leaving cold kisses back down his abdomen stopping just above his waist and smirk etching its way on your face

“So hard for me, as always” Peters senses were going haywire your touch was everywhere and nowhere at the same time before you began to palm him through his pajama pants

“Only for you no one else, only for Mommy” The brunette began babbling and it made your heart swell at the thought reality no one could please him like you did you were his and he was yours only

“No one can ever please you how I do, you would be lost without me” Peter pants were gone in a blink as he nodded rapidly in agreement his hips bucking into nothing as the cold air hit his angry red tip

You hand inched it’s way to the base of his cock your thumb wiping a bead of precum from its tip using it as lube before spitting in your hand as you began to jerk him off not giving the boy a chance to adjust as your hand moved at a rapid pace

“Look at you baby, going so dumb and we’ve barely begun” You taunted as Peter whined loudly before you brought his cock into your mouth your tongue doing spins and spirals on the tip that had his hips bucking and twitching roughly while you hollowed out your cheeks taking his length whole gagging slightly before moving your head up and down never faltering your quick movements while you brought a hand to play with his heavy balls

Peter struggled not to take you right there and fuck you both into oblivion but he didn’t have permission to touch you and he knew that but he also knew he was on the brink of the biggest load in human history

“I’m gonna- fuck I’m gonna come please” Peter was about to fucking cry when he felt your mouth leave his cock with pop as you started kissing his tip then trailing down his thighs back up to his face

“Two more weeks pup, two more weeks and we can be together the moon will reach its apex and I can return to my true form” Peter could feel the vibrations from your words in his jugular as you nipped and lapped over his neck sure to leave marks

“Gonna be with Mommy?” His big brown doe eyes stared into yours his head tilted like a curious puppy that had your stomach flipping in knots you hadn’t felt like this in years, century’s even

“Yes pup, you’re gonna be with Mommy” You whispered sinking down on Peters cock as he moaned such pornographic sound that it could be used for a movie scene his broken words going into your ears and traveling down to your cunt every time you skin slapped together as you bottomed out before thrusting him back in there was a new “mghf” or “fuhh”

“You can touch me baby” You reassured and that was all peter needed to hear before he flipped you both over him now being on top of you slamming his hips into you relentlessly at a brutal pace while tears began to drip from his cheeks down his chin at the grip your pussy had on him

“You fuck me so well baby, gonna fill me up go ahead pup” You moaned his pace bruising his groin smashing into your mound as you could feel the pleasure bubbling in the bottom of your stomach

“Close. gonna come. coming” Peter came with the loudest cry he screamed in the last six months as hot ropes coated your walls as you followed behind him tugging the roots of his hair before he collapsed into you using his shaking arms to break his fall

At least five minutes had passed before you slowly lifted your hands to Peters cock moving it back and out of your clit as he whined nudging his nose into your neck

“Gotta get a towel baby” You muttered lifting from the bed and into the bathroom that connected to Peters room grabbing a clean towel turning on the faucet dampening a corner before returning to the room

You took the damp corner wiping Peter base following with his tip which he jerked his hips at the motion whining

“Too much, no more please” He whimpered holding your hands in place while you shushed him softly

“I know baby I’m all done” You slipped back in the bed next to Peters side as you hand made contact with his hair scratching gently as lied on top of you nudging his nose Into your neck breathing in your scent

He knew you wouldn’t be there when he woke up you had no choice but he only had to deal with it for two more weeks and you could be together, you would turn him so you could love each other forever.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x fem!reader #the avengers #avengers x reader #avengers x you #avengers x fem!reader #avengers smut #sub!peter parker #dom!reader #peter parker smut #smut #flufftober #kinktober #fall 2022 #romance #fluff #geegeeisawhoreontherun #thewriterg

[secretaccountlol]

Smut with Peter x Reader where it’s their anniversary ( wedding or dating you choose) and they go raw for the first time and Peter is a absolute mess plus his dick is sensitive

Hiii~! Hm so. Hopefully this is to your expectations-!

So I interpreted, this as a bit of a subby/switch Peter I hope that’s alright.

this also can be read any spidey too :3

Also you didn’t use any she pronouns so I went ahead and made the reader AFAB! :3

18+ no minors <3

Cw:overstimulation, unprotected sex, teasing,switch!reader, switch! Peter.

“Peter…”

“Yeeesss?”

“Why am I blindfolded?”

“Can I not surprise my fiancé?”

Peter says ‘fiancé’ with a French accent, putting extra flavor in the ‘e’.

“You can but why do I have to be blindfolded!”

“Mm cus it makes it more exciting?”

You groan, “get on with it, Pete!”

“Ugh! Ewww ungrateful!” Peter put on a false voice, you held your laugh trying to keep the appearance of annoyance.

“I can see trying not to smile, baby. Can’t fool me” even though you can’t see him grinning, you could feel it.

“Okay, you caught me but please no more waiting I’m excited!”

“Alright.”

You felt a woosh as your eyes adjusted to the light, a gasp emits from your mouth as you feel Peter hug you from behind.

“Like it?”

“Awh, Pete you shouldn’t have.”

The living room was decked out with fairy lights, your couch was made into a fort moved from its original place to make way for big comfy blankets and pillows replaced it, with your favorite snacks and drinks in the middle and your head turned to the tv.

“Peter…” you feel a press of a kiss on your cheek as your eyes glitter with tears, an album of your best moments together plastered on the screen, some of the pictures were just of you when you weren’t looking at Peter. He liked that, taking pictures of you off guard, it was “artistic” he said.

“Do you like it?” You nod squeaking out a “yes”, it was clear you liked it but Peter always needed that extra reassurance.

You run over to the fort, you can’t contain your joy.

“Wait wait, before we sit down.” Peter puts his hands out before shooting his webs to grab a bag on the counter.

“Matching PJs.” Peter shrugs and you squeal with delight.

-

“Peter.”

“Yes, love?”

Your eyes train on Peter, biting your lip.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing nothing- just..I-I uhm have a ‘surprise’ b-but I feel like it’s lame compared to” you pause motioning all around the room, “This!”

“You know I don’t care about how grand it is.” Peter nuzzles his nose with yours making you giggle.

“W-well uhm. I-hh..”

Peter leans into you, eyebrows raised awaiting your answers.

“I-..started taking birth control. S-so we could ..”

“Do it without a condom?” Peter finished your sentence, his eyes glossed over, you nod you couldn’t get the words out so you’re glad he said it for you.

“I-i wanted it to be a surprise for our anniversary” you fiddle with your PJs you lift to see his eyes, his jaw was clenched as you scanned his face your eyes naturally travel down to his bulge.

The fabric strained against it you wet your lips instinctively stealing a glance at Peter’s lust-blown eyes, “I’m not gonna lie..I-i really I want to fuck you right now.”

“I mean” you pause, biting your lip, “I-I told you for a reason.”

You watch that as a glint in Peter started to form, the same glint you always see when you know he’s about to tease you.

“Tell me what you need, pretty one?” Peter’s hand's inch up your thighs, his head dipped down low to try to meet your eyes.

“Pete..”

“Come on, you can do it.” Pete’s lips graze your cheeks, his mouth near your ear now.

“We won’t get anywhere with silence, y’know? Communication is key right?”

“R-right.”

Peter holds your chin hostage forcing you to stare into his eyes, “What do you wanna do, hm?”

Your eyes wander a bit before you snap back to him via his hands gripping your chin hard, it makes you whimper.

“I guess you don’t wanna-“

“No!”

You close your eyes, breathing through your nose because opening them again, “n-no I.. I want t..to have sex with you…!” Your lips wobble after you spoke, he knew you were shy and he loved to exploit it.

“Now was that so bad?” Peter smirked as you broke out of your shy trance, you push him away

“Oh fuck you! You know I get flustered when you do that stuff!”

Peter’s hands play with the buttons on your shirt, undoing them one by one, “can’t help myself, you look so cute when your all embarrassed like that” Peter discards your pajamas top leaving your bare chest on display, you feel the urge to be modest but you know how Parker would react. His hands hooked onto your PJS bottoms, you lifted to help him slide them off you.

“God I’ll never get tired of looking at you, y’know that?” Pete traces your nipples with his tongue before undoing his shirt and pants.

You hum in agreement, “What’s with the rush, Petey?” you tease, well try to at least you leaned into his face, planting kisses gently which were returned in good favor. “Mm, when’d you learn how to tease?” Pete’s hands were soft as they cupped your face.

“You”

“Me?” he giggled as you nodded, “Nice to know I rub off on you.” His fingers creep up the sides of your body, eventually reaching your boobs giving them a squeeze then rubbing them in soft soothing circles.

“Pun intended”

“You’re so corny! we’re about to raw dog for the first time and you're making puns?” You climb into his lap, pouting to keep yourself from laughing at his antics.

“Mm, cus I know it makes you happy and cus I know you're nervous..” Petey smiles as your eyebrows arch.

“Mm? I’m not nervous bout that..” your head tilts in confusion until it hits you, he’s nervous. “Aw babe..” you shift your weight, pressing your core into his bulge.

Peter’s breath hitched, “I’m not nervous at all, I can’t wait to feel you cum in me.” Your eyelid lowered, your hands picking at his boxers, before diving into them, fishing out his cock.

Your hands glided up and down his cock, Peter's sharp breath made you grin your pace sped up in the effort for more. “Fuck-! W-who are you? W-what have you done to my fiancé?” Peter smirks in false control, only to be interrupted by a kiss from you.

“S-so soft.. I-i love your hands-“ Peter’s hands grasp your wrist, “but I don’t wanna c-cum there.” You pull your hand away, leaning back to study his face as his hands went to return to favor. Slithering into your waistband, “god, you’re so wet..I can’t wait to fuck you” Peter groans, his fingers slipping up and down your slit, probing your hole.

Your hips buck up with soft sighs, “No point in w-waiting, I’m wet e-enough..” you lift letting Peter slip off your underwear, “I wanna see your f-face when you enter me” you felt hot, you’ve never been this straightforward with him before but you could tell he relished it.

Peter nodded, breathless as you lined yourself with him. You grasp his dick, you push the tip against your clit, letting your slick cover it.

“Fuck- god! That.. that feels so good..” Peter’s words were through gritted teeth. “P-please baby put it in..” you feel a fire ignite in you, you want more.

You leaned against his chest, allowing your body to grind against his cock, letting your pussy slip up and down, “bab-baby fuck that feels so good. Please please- l-let me fuck y-you.” His voice was higher than usual, hands on the floor gripping the sheets, his hips trying but failing not to thrust into you.

“I’m sorry I was just getting payback for all the times you’ve edged me” you leave kisses on his lips, as you guide his dick to your hole, letting yourself slide onto it, agonizingly slow moaning as you adjust. Your eyes gazed at Peter, his mouth open but no words or sounds just pure bliss, his eyebrows knitted together, head thrown back.

You raise yourself, slamming back down, skin colliding on skin making a delicious smacking sound.

Peter whimpers, “fuckfuckfuck- you feel like heaven oh my god! So..sososo warm ohh.”, his hands instantly are off the floor and onto your hips. “Please d-don’t stop..! D-don’t stop pleasepleaseplease…!” Peter’s whines filled the air, his voice made your insides clench.

“Aah- fuckfuck- please do that again. Fuck! it feels so good.” His hands use your hips as handlebars, using them to push and pull you up and down his cock. “M-more more more I need more..! Nngh-“

“Oh god- Pete! Mmhn- “ your legs hug him tight, driving him deeper into hitting directly into your g spot, your head is thrown back as it hits over and over again.

Peter whines, “ooh-“ his thrust are sloppy as he fucks himself into you. “N-never been so dee-ahh…!“ Peter's hands are quickly planted on your back, laying you down, returning to hips in seconds.

A crushing grip, that will leave bruising marks to be remembered and kissed upon tomorrow. Peter’s whimpers swell in your mind as your own choked moans spill out your mouth.

Your hands travel down to your clit rubbing furious circles as you sob in pleasure. “P-peter! Mmmh- so fast..!” Your free hand pulls his head down for a kiss, his shaky breaths against your soft lips, you muffle both of your moans with a searing kiss.

Tongues and teeth clashing in a mess of lust and love, little whispers of “I love you” bounce back and forward as eyes gaze at each other through hazy vision and tears.

“Ooh..Pete-“ your eyes close as you buck up, “S-say my name again, please..” soft touches of the cheek compel you to say again and again, Parker’s fingers dig into your skin as his thrust becoming harder and harder making your body shake as your eyes pinched.

You arch as you feel yourself clenching, pressure building up more and more at your core. Peter keeps his tempo as you squirm, “g-gon-“ your hands go haywire as you let out a scream.

Your ears ring as you pant, fingers splayed out on his chest. “Oooh” Peter whines out more obscenities as he fucks you through your orgasm, “Y-y..fuck even more wet..I’m- fuck soosososo cl-“ peter sobs, hiccuping as his moans get louder.

“Fuck! Ilov- Mm! Iloveyousomuch!!” Peter's rough fingers make their way to clit, harsh and fast strokes make you whine, your body moves against your will trying to match his thrusts.

“I-I’m - shitshitshit- imcummin’!” Peter’s eyes roll back as he pumps into you, a warm pressure courses through your body as Peter's cock pulses in you, “Hhn-oh I-I can feel you in me..” you push your body against his cock, Peter throws his head back as obscenities flow out of his mouth.

“Ah-..! Y-you mm- you're practically milking me. Fuck-“ Peter presses down on your stomach you groan in delight. “I-I’m g-gunna cum again, Ah-mmhnn!” You throw back again, convulsing with pleasure.

“M-me too, fuck your- “ Peter grunts as crams more

cum into your hole, “Y-ya take it..take it”

The room was stuffy, both your heads were spinning as you breathed as you stared at each other.

“T-that was..”

“Amazing, spectacular, sensational?”

You half-hazard hit him, “You’re such a goofball!”

“Mmm, you love it though. Dontcha?” Peter winks with his head tilted, his hair stuck up and all different ways.

“Hate to admit it, but you’re right.” You ruffle his hair.

#tasm!peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #mcu!peter x reader #tasm #sub!peter parker #switch!peter Parker #switch!reader

[subbypeterparker]

Buttercup

masterlist p.p

summary: putting chapstick on peters lips after he’s been biting them while you peg him

“come on baby, you’re taking me so well. taking mommy’s cock so well,” you’re pounding into peter from behind, whispering in his ear as he fucks his cock into your fist.

he’s quickly losing his though, nearly succumbing to the pleasure you’re giving him. his tongue has been running over hips lips for the past few minutes, wetting them enough so he can talk.

your wrist of the hand on his cock twists so your palm hovers above his tip, making it hit your hand with every thrust. peter’s teeth dig into his bottom lip for the hundredth time that night, as he tries to stop himself from cumming.

he can feel your hard and perky nipples on his back as you move around to thrust your hips into him. peter’s head drops down as he lets out a moan and a whimper, and he wets his now dry lips with his tongue.

using the hand not on his cock, you wrap your fingers into his hair, and tug it enough that his head lolls backwards. from this angle you two can make eye contact, and you nearly cum from the sight of your baby’s fucked out eyes.

he whimpers when he sees you, and you lean down to kiss his rough lips. he’s been biting them so much, the skin has become dry and chapped. you whisper against his lips, “you’re doing so well baby, so well. why don’t you fuck mommy’s fist until you cum?”

peter lets out a whine, and nods. you latch your mouth into his shoulder, kissing, licking, and sucking any patch of skin you can reach, while peter’s head drops down again, focusing on the way your hand looks around his cock.

within a few thrusts, he’s cumming all over the towel you laid out before hand. peter’s squirming into the strap on, moaning out small cries of “mommy!” when you continue your thrusts and pumps to guide him through his orgasm.

when he comes down from his high, you slowly pull out, massaging his thighs to calm him down when he hisses in pain. you make quick work to put the strap on to clean later, and to grab the towel, leaving the sheets spotless.

“you did so good, baby, my good boy,” you curl up in bed beside him, handing him the glass of water you prepared on the bedside table.

he gratefully sips on the cold water, and you can see how chapped and red his lips are. “oh baby, come here, i’ll put some chapstick on you.”

you reach over to dig through your bedside table drawers to grab your chapstick tube. turning back to him, you see he’s finished his water, and it looking at you with those puppy dog eyes.

“alright, pucker up buttercup,” you joke. he smiles, and puckers his lips enough to allow you to apply the strawberry-smelling chapstick.

“rub your lips together,” you instruct. he does, and sends you a little smile. you chuckle and toss the chapstick away, throwing the covers on top of the both of you, and kissing his head to help him fall asleep.

#subbypeterparker #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker smut #sub!peter parker #tom holland #peter parker imagine #sub peter parker #peter parker blurb #peter parker fic #sub!peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction

[youandtom2]

Praise You Like I Should (CEO!Tom Holland) 18+

Summary: You were always a people-pleaser, desperate to do right by everybody no matter what they asked. Being an intern, your boss Jackson exploited your people-pleaser tendencies in a very unprofessional manner, and CEO Mr Holland wasn't happy about it... Themes: smut! little bit of fluff and angst, dom!tom and sub!reader, oral (m+f), major praise kink, sir kink, overstimulation, masturbation (alone) , slight jewelry kink w/c: 10k+

MASTERLIST

You look over the dimly lit hall before you, tables decorated to the nines with hand-folded serviettes, silver-ware suited for royalty, gleaming as they sit on a fresh white linen table cloth, surrounded by tall plum-coloured cushioned chairs. There’s about twelve tables dotted around the hall identical to one another, waiting to be filled by guests in about an hour or so. The room sparkles with the metallic colouring of birthday banners and balloons floating around the room, illuminated by the dancing, multicoloured disco lights. 

The surprise birthday party you were instructed to organise is for Mr Holland’s business partner, Taylor. They’re each other's yin and yang, mixing together like oil on water but somehow they make it work. The informal Taylor bases his relationship with his employees on friendship and a sense of mutual equality, where the formal Mr Holland prefers professionalism and respect on top of trust. Nevertheless, both are equally respected as bosses and businessmen in their own right. It doesn’t necessarily mean you all prefer one over the other, but if you had to make a choice as to who you would rather hang out with, the answer is an obvious one.

As an intern, it isn’t exactly part of your remit to organise and host birthday events, but your boss, Jackson, ordered you to do it. Jackson’s notable within the workforce for several reasons; he’s outgoing, social, ambitious, confident, and is unofficially Taylor’s kiss ass. He appointed himself (ahem, you) with the responsibility of organising Taylor’s surprise party, not because he thinks he’s capable, but because he’s looking for recognition. What people don’t know is that he’s actually a lazy guy who has gotten himself drunk with the taste of superiority, abusing you as his own personal slave for favours both big (entirely consequential and out of your depth) and small (worthless and petty). Unfortunate to be his first intern, you’ve realised how gluttonous he’s become with you at his disposal how and whenever he pleases. However, being placed at the bottom of the pecking order, you’re not at liberty to say no. 

Jackson’s not your favourite boss by any means, but by God he keeps you busy. It tooks weeks for you to organise the venue, the catering, the entertainment, the decorations, the invitations, most importantly the cake, and the little oddities that everyone forgets about like hand-written name tags and having straws at the bar. You’ve been working relentlessly and after weeks of stress, late and often sleepless nights, numerous phone calls and emails, cancellations and rebookings, tonight is the night that all of that can end. The curse of being a perfectionist and a people-pleaser can finally release its hold on you.

Just as you finish clarifying the itinerary with the hotel’s bar staff, you notice a dark figure walking through the entrance. Your eyes trail nervously from the black patent shoes to the white shirt peeking beneath the black suit of which belongs to Mr Holland. He has his tortoise shell glasses perched perfectly on his nose, reflecting the colours of the disco lights as he walks towards you, stoic and poised. A silent ‘fuck’ crosses your mind. 

Being the CEO eight floors above you, Mr Holland’s face isn’t one that you see as consistently as Jackson’s. He’s at least 6 tiers above you in the pecking order, one of two to take superiority over a long line of directors, specialists, managers, supervisors and assistants before you. So you can hardly blame yourself when you start to feel nerves gathering in your chest, despite how well-respected he is amongst the workforce. 

His eyes finally find yours and he clarifies your name. You can appreciate that he’s at least taken the time to learn your face. “You're Jackson’s intern, right?” 

Wow. He knows you more than you thought. “Yes sir. Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“No, thank you. I was just coming to take a look around. I’m normally part of organising the celebrations but this year I’ve been too busy.” He wordlessly waves a hand before weaving in and out the tables, reading each name tag as he passes by. You watch nervously as he inspects the room until finding himself in front of what you call The Shrine with folded arms, almost bursting at the seams. More simply, it’s a collage of photos of Taylor taken over the years pieced together in a mosaic standing on an easel, gathered and no less arranged by you, of course. Next to it stands an empty corkboard, waiting to be filled with pictures from tonight's celebration, provided by the pop-up photobooth beside it. 

“Whose idea was this?” There’s a warm smile on Mr Holland’s face.

“Mine, sir.”

“And the handcrafted name tags?”

“Also me, sir.”

“I love it. It’s very creative.” You exhale loudly, relieved. The people-pleaser inside you starts to buzz, fluttering wildly at Mr Holland’s praise. “Did you…” His eyes squint narrowly, honing in on you. “Did you organise all of this?” 

“Yes, I did. The venue and catering took some negotiating but once that was planned, the rest came with time.”

“Impressive.”

You’re about to thank him but you're interrupted by the obnoxious calling of your name in a voice that booms from the entrance of the hall. Jackson marches towards you and you stand a little straighter. He doesn’t notice Mr Holland standing in the corner of the room next to the shrine. Instead of Mr Holland announcing himself, which is what you expected him to do, he sinks his hands into his pockets and quietly observes from afar. 

“I need a rundown--” Please, that would be great. “--and for the love of God where is the present I was supposed to get Taylor?” Thanks for getting me a present for him, I’ll pay you back.

Your answer is succinct and to the point. “I’ve left it in your hotel room; it’s a dinner reservation at Keens Steakhouse in New York. As for tonight, the bar will be open for guests when they arrive at 6:30pm, Taylor will arrive between 7:00pm and 7:15pm for his surprise, the buffet will open at 7:30pm and cake will be served at 8:30pm. Last orders are at 11:30pm and the curfew is midnight. Everyone has checked in and has their hotel room key, although Kelsey couldn’t make it tonight, so her room is spare.”

Jackson gives a gruff nod, mumbling something intelligible under his breath. He cautiously looks to the bar, then narrows his eyes at you with a pointed finger wavering in your face. “I need tonight to be perfect so I need you to be sober. No alcohol. Got it?” In other words, I can’t be bothered making sure everything goes smoothly so I need you to stay sober while I get shit-faced. You nod, pursing your lips angrily as he walks away from you without a final word.

With Jackson no longer in sight, the tension finally deflates and your shoulders relax. You hate that every interaction with Jackson is a test of your skill and knowledge, caught in a vicious cycle of having to prove yourself worthy time and time again. 

As Mr Holland emerges from the corner of the room, it’s an observation he also confronts having finally witnessed Jackson’s true authoritarian nature. His eyes are fixated on the golden doors in a stare so firm it could burn holes through the metal, and just when he steps into the brighter lights of the bar, his overall demeanour changes. 

His jaw ticks when he finally faces you. “Jackson’s keeping you on your toes tonight it seems.” 

“He always does, sir.” You shuffle awkwardly on your feet, recounting the numerous occasions his brutal demands have worked you to the bone.

“I don’t think I appreciate the way he talks to you.” 

“Oh I’m used to it by now.”

“So he talks to you like that all the time?” Shit. In truth, Jackson would never have spoken so harshly to you had he known anyone was in the room let alone Mr Holland, but that was his mistake. One you’re not sorry for. “Well, if he isn’t going to tell you what an amazing job you have done, I will. You should be proud of organising all of this by yourself, it’s not easy. Well done.” 

Your chest swells with pride as Mr Holland pats a gentle hand against your upper arm. Finally, your first taste of positive reinforcement. “Thank you, sir.” 

Mr Holland’s smirk quirks at the edges. His hands find themselves deep within his pockets once again as he coolly and oh-so-calmly exits through the doors. 

~~~~

You are insomnia personified. As relieved as you are that the night is going exactly to plan, with the nervous anticipation over, you just cannot wait to get to your bed knowing that the stress is over. You have hours of sleep to catch up on, a stone of weight to put back on and friends and family to respond to, and without a single alcoholic drink to lift your spirits, you’re finding it harder and harder to keep the exhaustion at bay. Beyond the exhaustion, however, there’s a sadness hidden deep within your conscience and while you glance over the decorations you hung up as the melodic singing of ‘happy birthday’ rings in the air, it spreads. It’s clear that people are oblivious to what makes you so downcast on a celebratory night as they pass nothing more than a glance your way, but in all honesty, you much prefer it to be that way. You wouldn’t want anyone to see the tear building in the corner of your eye. 

For now, you thrive on the compliments you’ve heard about the venue, the decorations, the drinks and the food, each and every one of them satisfying your perfectionist mindset. Okay, so what no-one knows you organised the party, and sure, you can oversee the fact that none of the compliments are directed to you in particular, because in the end, you’ve gained Mr Holland’s approval and that’s enough for you.

Well, it was enough until Taylor took to the stage for a speech.

“...and a special shout-out to Jackson for putting this all together for me. This is absolutely amazing, I couldn’t have asked for more.” 

Your heart sinks in your chest and your ears instinctively drown out the clapping and cheering of the crowd around you, eyes set in stone as they watch Jackson accept the dedication so graciously that it makes you sick to your stomach. It takes every ounce of energy you have left in you to suppress the wobble in your lip at the sight of Jackson soaking up the glory like a sponge. Jackson taking the credit for your hard work was something you should’ve expected from him. After all, he is lazy and will never be willing to admit it, definitely not in front of Taylor. Still, the chase for recognition was always going to be a losing battle for you; you’re an intern for fuck’s sake, you are merely just a name and a face for most, unfulfiling of the protagonistic arc the people here want in their stories. Jackson, the kiss ass, makes much more sense being the hero than an underdog intern. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, accepting defeat. 

You claim an empty seat at an empty table in a dark corner of the room, far from the crowd mingling on the dance floor and you remain there as the party continues into the night. The glass of tepid water looks pitiful in your hands, its lack of taste offering no respite from your sorrow. 

With fifteen minutes until last orders, you begin counting down to the moment you can retire to your bed which you know won’t arrive until after you’ve cleaned up the hall. You’re jealous of some of the guests who have already decided to leave the party.

The chair to your right suddenly scrapes across the floor and you’re slightly taken aback when Mr Holland sits close beside you and abruptly rests an elbow upon the table, blocking your view of the crowd and demanding your attention. A cedarwood scent silently announces itself and you inhale it deeply, finding sanctuary in its presence despite how startled you are by it. Your breath is simply taken from you when he shuffles himself closer. He isn’t wearing his usual attire; something a little less formal, but likely to be just as expensive. With that expensive taste comes his expensive appearance: clean, styled, decorated admirably and booming with authority. A warmth starts to take a hold of you. 

His movements are harsh and his body moves with brute intention, but behind those curls, his eyes hold sympathy, knowing what is upsetting you before it even spills from your lips. You try to fake a smile but he can see right through it. 

“I thought it was you that organised the party,” he calmly states. 

“I did. But because Jackson instructed me to plan a party means he takes responsibility for it.” 

Mr Holland doesn’t waste a single second. “It isn’t right. It’s one thing to speak to you so rudely, but it’s another to take credit for your hard work, and I’m starting to believe that Jackson doesn’t value you as an intern as much as he values the superiority that comes with it, am I right?” 

Anxiously, your eyes catch Jackson lazily hanging over the bar and demanding another drink. If Mr Holland were to know the truth, it would get Jackson in a lot of trouble and the people-pleaser inside you is screaming at you to just deny it all. Your skewed perception of professionalism means skipping over these things, something about snitching just seems so petty and childish, and that’s not the impression you want to give Mr Holland of all people.

Mr Holland’s stern voice brings you back. “You’re not answering to him now, you’re answering to me. Am. I. Right?” 

You gulp. “Yes, sir.” 

“I intend to have a word with Jackson--” 

“Mr Holland, it’s okay, really--” You try to protest but he quickly rests his hand on top of yours, his warmth enveloping it completely, and your mind halts. Your heart flutters the moment his fingers curl just the little bit tighter, a compassion that says more than words could. It’s genuine, caring, but firm in a way that’s supportive, pledging to do right by you. 

“He will apologise to you and let everyone know the truth.” 

“Please, I don’t want to cause a hassle or stir anything in the office, I just want to do well. And what would it change if people knew the truth? It doesn’t bother me that much, honestly. Besides, you know the truth. That’s all that matters to me.” Desperately and without thinking, you twist your hand and your fingers interlock, returning the squeeze with a soft smile. Mr Holland tries his best to return the sentiment but you can tell the whole ordeal still troubles him and sits discontented by your side, a regretful sigh heaving through his lips. Soon, after a silent plea to let it go, he eventually sits level with you with a brighter sparkle to his eyes and instantly, the mood is lifted. You notice how his hand doesn’t leave yours. 

“You at least deserve a drink.” 

“I shouldn’t, I’m closing up tonight and I’m working early tomorrow.” 

He scowls for what seems like the hundredth time tonight, facing issue after issue the more you expose Jackson’s true nature. “It’s Saturday tomorrow, you should be having a day off.” 

“It’s laughable you think I get a day off,” you chuckle. The sad thing is, he thinks you’re joking. Jackson often sends you his overdraft of reports to complete over the weekend and has the cheek to deem you lucky that he gives you so much wisdom and experience. You can’t imagine Mr Holland being aware of this…

“Don’t be silly darling, everyone is entitled to days off. Even Taylor took a day off today for his birthday.” 

Again, your scathing laughter meets his ears and he tilts his head, that skewed eyebrow lifting high into his forehead. “No offence sir, but with his position, he can afford to. I don’t think interns have that same benefit--”

“Of course you do, it’s company policy that everyone is entitled to a day off on their birthday.” Before you get a word in, he’s already pulling out his phone from his suit pocket. “Tell me when your birthday is so I can make sure you get it off, and I know when to get you a birthday present. Taylor too--”

“Oh, you don’t need to do that.”

“We do it for all our employees, regardless if you’re an intern or not.” His calendar flashes to life before his eyes. “So when is it? June? July?” 

Your mouth suddenly goes dry and it gawps like a fish, not a usual response to such an easy question. Your fingers knead together on your lap as the sadness once again materialises and Mr Holland quickly senses something is amiss.

“It’s…it’s today. My birthday is…was today.” 

Mr Holland’s eyes widen with horror. It’s no less than a minute later that he finally replies. “And Jackson has you working?” 

“Since 7am this morning. I had asked for my birthday off two months ago because I did actually read the company policies, but he said interns can’t request holidays because they’re not permanent. I didn’t think anything of it.” 

“What?! For fuck’s sake…” Mr Holland twists his chair violently, its legs colliding with the table as he tries to face you more directly and leans forward, your knees slotting into the space between his. The wave of his anger has rolled back even higher in its tide and now, unlike before, there’s a vein popping at his temple. “Let me just make this clear, okay? Correct me if I’m wrong. You’re telling me that Jackson has knowingly denied you of your birthday holiday entitlement and instead had you plan someone else’s birthday just so that he can take credit for it, make you work through it and clean up after it as well?”

God. In his words it sounds so desperately sad. Up until this point, you were able to distract yourself from getting caught up in the tragedy of it all, but now there’s nothing stopping the gates from opening and wallowing in self-pity. Although your blurring eyes tell of your true emotions, the forced smile on your lips does everything it can to convince both you and Mr Holland that you’re not bothered by it. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

Mr Holland’s heart inevitably sinks. In that moment, he thinks of the cruelty behind Jackson ordering you to buy and wrap his present for Taylor when you have none to open. He thinks of you, alone, buying the candles of the birthday cake you wouldn’t be blowing out. He thinks of you, just hours ago as the crowd sings happy birthday to another person, blissfully ignorant of your sorrow. He thinks of the hours you spent working when you should have been with your friends and family. It’s all of the things you truly deserve, but have been robbed from you. 

He reaches once again for your hand, now resting on your lap, and the tips of his fingers graze your thigh. You would be a fool to miss it. “Darling,” he sincerely murmurs, almost as quiet as a whisper. “I’m so sorry.” 

The fake smile takes lead and the rebel tear is wiped away. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault--”

“But it’s not okay. You…you didn’t even get to have a drink.” Damnit, your cheeks are wet again. “Did you at least get a break today?” Don’t cry in front of your CEO. Don’t cry in front of your CEO. Don’t cry in front of your CEO.

In fact, you spend so much time failing to not cry that Mr Holland assumes the worst. He takes in a long, deep breath and lures you into his embrace with a hand creeping up to the back of your head, and the second your forehead hits his shoulder, the dams break.  

“I’m just so tired,” you sniff. 

“You’ve been overworked, darling, that’s why.” His hand passes over your hair, gently cupping the curve of your head as he takes in every hiccup. His breath flows past your ears smoothly, broken up every few seconds with whispers of comfort. You feel horribly embarrassed, crying into the expensive suit of your CEO at the party you organised on your birthday: definitely not the definition of professionalism you are chasing. 

“I’m sorry. I promise I’m not usually like this.” You retreat from his shoulder but the hand cupping the back of your head prevents you from travelling too far and you’re stuck, just inches from Mr Holland’s pitying eyes. He keeps you concealed from the crowd, but it’s not enough to hide from the burning glare of Jackson, his eyes drawing daggers at you from over Mr Holland’s shoulder. He’s somewhat frozen in a stupor, scarily steady for a man who was flailing over the bar minutes ago, but anger is a quick cure for intoxication. 

Mr Holland’s voice sidles quietly into your ear. “You don’t need to explain yourself to me. Get yourself up to bed, I’ll deal with Jackson.” 

“But--”

“I will not take no for an answer. Now go.” You shiver at the stern tone, appearing only as he turns to lock eyes with Jackson who’s faring a guilty look upon his face. As Mr Holland brings you both to a stand, he gently encourages you towards the golden doors and although you should be indulging in the relief of finally being let off, you can’t pull your focus away from Mr Holland’s cold stare that refuses to stray from Jackson. In the few seconds that it takes to walk from your chair to the doors, a clear, obvious shift in mood transpires, one that is felt by the entire room because now it isn’t just you that notices Mr Holland’s sudden decline in temperament. Evidently, everyone is quick to sense the tension. The crowd’s lively dancing now settles into an awkward shuffle and the singing dulls into hushed whispers because they know to never underestimate the seriousness of Mr Holland’s anger. It’s uncomfortable and intimidating, even more so if you’re the reason for his vexation and if that’s the case, you should be on your knees begging for his forgiveness. It’s the one power Mr Holland holds that Taylor, his business partner, his equal, doesn't possess. This is your first time seeing him exercise this power and it’s incredibly daunting. 

The beat of your heels clicking their way up the staircase is a quick one, not daring to hang around the unease any longer. The fresh smell of washed cotton that greets you in your room winds you down and you don’t spare a second of reflection before you strip yourself of your stiff dress, blister-inducing heels, thick make-up and the heavy stress. You slip right between the sheets, ready to drift asleep. 

The lights are switched off, your eyes are closed and your body properly relaxes. Yet inexplicably you can’t settle into your bed no matter how much you toss and turn. Rationale convinces you that it’s because you’re in a bed different from your own, that the mattress doesn’t have the mould of your body imprinted on it, and although it’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, your inner conscience is telling you something else…

Flashes of memories made just half an hour prior spring to the surface and suddenly you’re watching yourself converse with Mr Holland again. But it isn’t exactly how you remember it.

For example, his hand is on your lap, gripping the curve of your thigh with his heat scorching through your skin when you know that, in reality, it was nothing more than a soft sweep. And when you both stood, you know he guided you with a gentlemanly hand, yet your dream sees his hand curving down the slope of your ass and squeezing the flesh. You have to refuse the idea of you shivering with arousal from hearing Mr Holland’s stern growl because truthfully, it was nerves. 

Or…was it both? 

You try to ignore it, but the seed has already been planted. Now all you can visualise is his fleeting touches, his soft voice praising you and calling you darling, the twinkle in his eyes as he sympathised for you, the caress of his hand through your hair as he comforted you, the way he cared for you, and fucking hell, the exhilaration of seeing him protect you so defensively when no one else did. His taut jaw, his clenched fists, his dark eyes, the pulsing vein at his temple, his eminence that commanded the room, the list is endless. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, succumbing to the pleasure of your own fingers toying with your clit. You don’t quite remember the exact moment your hand slipped beneath your underwear, too caught up in your fantasy of Mr Holland to realise. Regardless, the movie in your mind continues to play out and by now, none of it reflects any real events from tonight - it’s all purely fictional.

His hand slides up between your thighs. He dons a devilish grin because he knows there’s a whole crowd blissfully unaware behind him. An innocent gasp slips from your lips and it lures his eyes to your mouth, panting as he traces the letters of his name over your covered cunt as a sign as to who it belongs to. Overrun with anticipation, you bite your lip, feeling the pad of his finger slip beneath your thong and…

“Oh my god! Shit!” Your body seizes, curling into itself as your fingers dull to a small twitch between your clenched thighs. There’s a blissful moment where you ravish the hot rush of blood pulsing at your pussy, letting it bubble until it slows to a simmer, and only when you come down from your high minutes later do you fully realise what has just happened. Eyes split wide open, you rise from your bed.

You just masturbated fantasising over your CEO. 

What in the hell have you gotten yourself into? 

~~~~

The morning comes surprisingly quickly and the hotel's thin curtains don't fully shield you from the sun's glare. It’s bright, directly in your face and if you didn’t know any better, you would think that it’s spotlighting you because it knows what you did last night. As if you forgot…

The guilt still ruins your conscience and you feel nothing but regret; fantasising and sexualising Mr Holland’s kindness is just the pinnacle of everything you disagree with and it doesn’t exactly define the sort of professionalism you strive for. 

Shaking it off as best you can, you refresh yourself with a shower and a harsh splash of cold water to your face, and by the time you open your laptop it’s 9am. There hasn’t been any emails from Jackson so far which you’re not too sure if you’re shocked by. It’s typical on a Saturday morning for Jackson to send you multiple reports with deliberately vague instructions that you would somehow have to decode and translate for yourself. But regarding last night’s events, perhaps he’s heeded Mr Holland’s words and decided to honour your weekend entitlements. 

The white screen stares back at you, watching you nervously bite your nails as if you’re expecting a red notification to pop up, attached to an email from Jackson with hungover words. A minute or two passes by and alas, nothing. Not a word. In all honesty, you don’t have an issue with it, not at all, but it means that your routine is completely disrupted and you’re struggling to decide what to do with yourself. And without work, you have nothing to distract you from last night’s sin while it plagues your mind. 

A new sweat arises and your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, and that’s the part you think is the worst. Why did it feel so fucking good?

What brings you out of your self-loathing is three quick, quiet knocks echoing from your door in quick succession. Curious, you open the door and when you see who stands there in all his formal glory, you wish you hadn’t. Your heart immediately jumps to your mouth. 

“Oh, Mr Holland--hi. I wasn’t expecting you…” Your words fade into a soft whisper when your eyes spot a small pink bag, its ribbon handles hooked daintily onto his fingers. Surely that can’t be what you think it is…?

He’s painfully quiet, a small smile painting his lips at what he sees; he’s never seen you dress so casually before and he wants to take a good long look at you, unsure of when he’ll see such a sight again. The weight of his stare burns holes through you, heating you from within.

Not a second later, he holds out the pink bag towards you and you forget to breathe. 

“Happy belated birthday,” he gently voices. Your fingertips graze each other as you take it from him. For such a small, delicate bag, it’s certainly weighty and your stomach drops thinking about how much money he’s stupidly wasted on you…

“Thank you sir, really. You didn’t have to do that.” A nervous chuckle escapes your dry mouth. “How…how did you get this so quickly? It’s barely past 9 in the morning.”

“I have a few contacts who owe me a few favours. And I just felt so guilty about you missing your birthday. Sorry you couldn’t celebrate it like you should’ve.”

 “Like I said, it’s okay--” 

He shakes his head disapprovingly but surely, a taunting smirk begins to form. “Am I going to have to give you the same ‘talking to’ I gave Jackson last night to make you realise that it is definitely not okay?”

Yes, yes, yes, fucking yes. “No, no, of course not. Sorry, I suppose that’s just the people-pleaser in me.” 

Mr Holland stands stoic before you, his head slightly tilted and his hands clasped in front of him. His eyes are watching you endearingly, drawing you into him, but everything else about him oozes something that makes you want to swallow a little harder. His confidence in himself is mildly intimidating and you wish you could feel the same. Just his being here creates a dizzying effect on you that you just can’t shake. 

“You can think of this as a congratulations of sorts too.” 

You tilt your head. “Congratulations?” 

“Mh-hm,” his eyes flit over your confusion, a devilish, haunting smirk gracing his wet lips. “Congratulations on becoming a permanent member of Taylor and I’s company.” 

Mr Holland admiring you be damned, you find yourself taking a step back in shock. “Are you…are you serious?” 

“Of course I’m serious, do you think I would lie to you?” 

“Not at all, I just, I thought it was going to be Jackson’s decision. I am his intern.” 

You aren’t a fool to miss the way his jaw ticks at the mention of Jackson’s name and all too quickly, a ferocious fire consumes his eyes. A small shiver cuts through your skin. “You don’t work for Jackson anymore because Jackson no longer works for me.” 

“What?!” 

“What did you think when I said I was going to deal with Jackson? That he was going to continue working for me even after finding out he was treating you badly? Or finding out that he orders you to do his work over the weekends? Or even when he blackmails you into doing jobs beyond your remit? How could you possibly think that I would let that sleazy bastard feed off my pay when I know he isn’t capable of the job? You’re far more deserving of the position than he is, far more deserving of the appreciation and beyond capable.”

“Sir, I…I can’t thank you enough. I’m very grateful. I won’t let you down, I promise.” 

“I know you won’t. Although I do sometimes wish you would’ve told me or Taylor about Jackson’s behaviour sooner. I don’t tolerate that kind of exploitation, not even for a second and you shouldn’t have either.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I was just so caught up in wanting to do well that I would’ve done anything to please the company.”

“Maybe you should stop spending your time trying to please other people, and focus on pleasing yourself.” His face gravitates just a hairsbreadth towards yours and in quieter, darker words, he whispers… “You were certainly capable of pleasing yourself last night.” 

You take a timid step back, mouth agape. You can’t think of anything to say, not when the ringing in your ears starts to resonate louder and louder. Shame swells like a disease and you can feel the bile rising in your throat. You are almost certain you didn’t hear anyone outside your room last night, how could he have possibly known? 

“I…um…I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

He smoothly leans against the door frame, his wicked grin tells you that he doesn’t believe a word you say. Nevertheless, he explains, not to worsen how mortified he knows you already feel, but to reminisce of the surge of adrenaline and lust that coursed through him last night. 

“I came by late last night to drop off your present. I didn’t think you would still be awake so I planned on leaving it at your door, and just as I bent down to place it there, I heard just the softest of moans—“

“I think you must be mistaken—“ An uneasy chuckle barely covers your tracks, leaving you just as compromised as before. 

“I thought you might’ve been with someone, but I then didn’t hear any other voices, so I assumed you were by yourself.” 

“Sir,” you squeak, intending to finish your sentence but you just don’t have the words nor the confidence to deny him of what he already knows. You feel like a deer caught in the headlights, exposed and vulnerable without the faintest idea of how to get yourself out of his commanding presence. 

A million and one emotions rage through you and drown you in a fluster. Your feet shuffle nervously beneath you, slowly inching your way back into your hotel room as you sense yourself losing control over the conversation. With a mouth drier than the Sahara desert, there’s not much else you can do or say to avoid falling victim to both Mr Holland’s taunting and your own taunting; last night’s images playing out before you more vividly now that he resurrects them. 

The subject finally diverges, but it doesn’t mean you're any more comfortable with it. “Do you know you’re the only one that addresses me as ‘sir’?” 

You shake your head, eyes inevitably averted. You didn’t know that, you just thought it was professional. 

“You never corrected me.” 

“I didn’t want to.” 

“Why not?” 

“I liked hearing it. Just as much as I liked what I heard last night. But I need to know,” he takes a step to cross the threshold of your hotel room. “Was there anything…anyone in particular crossing your mind?” 

“There was…” His jaw ticks furiously and you instantly get the notion that denying him is simply not a choice here. 

“Who?” He demands in that stern voice you’ve heard only once before. 

One word sits on your tongue and you know that as soon as it breaks the silence, the professionalism you worked so hard to build up will crumble before you. But the risk is entirely worth it. 

“You.” 

Mr Holland’s lips part and releases a snicker as if he knew, and the curl of his smirk becomes dangerous. He lets the singular word ring out into the air, and the tension envelopes you both in a suffocating bubble until he finally speaks. “You…what?” 

“You, sir.” 

His chest rumbles with approval and you even feel its vibrations fluttering low in your stomach. Desire consumes you; a desire to know what he’s thinking, to know what he’s planning to do with that compromising information, to figure out whether he’ll respond to it in a way that satiates your more promiscuous desires like the ones that distracted you last night. You would give anything to see what’s going on inside his head. 

Inexplicably, he nods towards your pink bag, easily brushing over your last conversation like it was nothing to him and it completely throws you off. “You should open it.” 

It takes a second to drag your eyes away from him. You actually forgot you’re still holding it in your hands. The tissue paper rustles loudly as you reach in-- “Inside.” Mr Holland urges. With a short nod, you lead the way, allowing him to slowly close the door behind you with a gut-wrenching squeak and a thunderous boom.

The second the door shuts, the air becomes taut, strained and harder to breathe and you dedicate all your efforts into ignoring your last conversation just as easily as he had, but he’s standing right behind you and the warmth of his breath skates past your ear and it’s all you can think about. Even without disclosing what he now knows, the presence of Mr Holland alone would bring about such unnerving effects, so you don’t find yourself at fault for struggling to keep it together. 

From the pink bag you pull out a small white and gold box, wrapped with yet another ribbon. Inside is a silver chain, light and dainty, but the pendant it carries is nothing alike. The reflection of the sun hits the circular-cut diamond, becoming iridescent as it hits your eyes. The stone is slightly on the larger side, bigger than any other necklace you own, but it sits perfectly in the balance of being flashy yet classy. Expensive yet tasteful. It’s a piece that you can’t price and that exact thought scares you. 

“It’s beautiful,” you softly murmur. The chain cascades elegantly across your fingers, almost mesmerising to watch. 

Your eyes catch his movement in the mirror in front of you and steals your attention away from the necklace. He holds out his hand by your side, soft but firm. 

“May I?” You almost flinch as his words hit your ear, the ripple of your shiver continues for long after. As the chain pools in his hand, he is equally gentle, handling it with expertise while he lifts it carefully over head and rests the pendant tenderly in the dip between your clavicles. Its icy cold touch seers your skin, heat radiating with each grazing touch of his fingers as they clasp the chain together behind your neck. Once secure, you admire the way it shines brightly against your skin tone, eyes momentarily lost in your image until you realise that yours are the only pair looking back at you. Mr Holland remains engrossed with the curve of your neck, his proximity close enough to be counting the beats of your pulse as it thumps beneath your skin and for all you know, it’s elevating, thrashing harder and harder while you watch with wide eyes as Mr Holland presses his lips against it. 

The second his lips meet your skin, his hands find your hips, holding you steady to prevent you from buckling. A numbing tingle shoots through your nervous system at the feeling of Mr Holland swiping his tongue across the reddening bruise he’s leaving behind. Every kiss is with purpose, targeting each and every sweet spot as if he had a map to each of their location: the peak of your neck that connects to your jaw, the sensitive spot just millimetres below your ear, the slight curve of your shoulder that sits beneath the chain. He instantly claims you, and you show no sign of resistance when you find yourself voluntarily tilting your neck, begging for more.

You finally meet his eyes in the mirror, realising how cavernous his blown-out pupils are; that if you search too far you’ll become trapped. “This…” he whispers, planting another kiss to your ear, his hands beckoning to the chain, “is the only thing I’ll allow you to wear while I fuck you.” 

A shameless, breathless mewl whines from your throat and a rampage of endorphins consumes you. As the first piece of insight to his mind, you don’t get nearly enough time to let it process in your head before his clawing hands are tugging at the drawstrings of your joggers. 

The small nip to your neck is a wake-up call. This is real and this isn’t a fantasy of yours, only that it will be a recreation of what had you orgasming last night. 

“You know, I can be a people pleaser too.” His hand slips beneath your joggers, but refrains from slipping beneath your underwear. “I can please you in so many ways.” As a testimony to his words, his fingers trace over the silk of your underwear, catching your bud in its travels and a silent gasp bursts from your lips. “But not without earning it. Do as you’re told, and I’ll do exactly that.” 

Your head falls back onto his shoulder, words vacant, eyes rolling. 

“Are you listening to me?” The hand on your hip squeezes harshly and you jerk in his arms. You have never agreed to something quicker in your life.

“Yes, sir! Oh—” 

“Good. Then you can start by closing those curtains over there.” 

His hand slips fluidly out of your joggers when you force yourself away from the subtle torment. The light dims a little, however you think it’s more for privacy than for light. When your back turns once again, Mr Holland sits himself on the edge of the bed, legs spread and leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. Whatever it is about him in that single second triggers something in you; attraction, lust, sex appeal, or all of the above. Whatever it is, it compels you to give yourself in to him.

A messy mixture of want, need and unrelenting desire brings you to your knees before him. His eyes sweep over your face, examining, analysing, translating every desperate twitch. He can even see your lips parting where he spots the remnants of teeth marks from when you had nervously bitten them in hidden moments. Smoothly, the pad of his thumb brushes over your lip, tugging it into a pout because that’s what he wants to see; you, desperate, pouting, begging for him. It soon pops back into place, his hand now curling around your chin and pulling you closer. His own lips are nothing more than a breath away from yours and you think he’s going to finally kiss you, but annoyingly, he only allows you to feel the shape of the words as he whispers them to you. 

“So what is it about me then, hm? What do I do that turns you on?” 

“It’s…it’s stupid.” 

He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Let me rephrase.” The grip on your chin tightens and your noses collide. “Tell me what it is about me that turns you on.” 

“Last night at the party, you were the only one that…cared. You made me feel like I wasn’t invisible.” 

“What else?” 

“You stood up to Jackson for me - you just looked so determined like you were unstoppable.” 

He tilts his head in the other direction now, leaning in just as close, your breaths mingling together. You’re so desperate to feel his lips on yours. “And?” 

“When…when you touched my thigh--”

“You were burning.”

“I was nervous--” 

“Because of me.” 

“Of course because of you. I was scared of disappointing you.” 

A small snicker escapes him and leaves behind a wicked smirk. Two hands now firmly cradle your jawline and you think the moment has finally come. Why else would your heart be thumping in your chest? 

“Not possible. I always knew you were a good girl. And I think you like being told that, don’t you? You like being recognised to the point where you need to be reassured of it. I saw that coy little look on your face the first time I told you how impressed I was. It was obvious that no one else had praised you like I did - you couldn’t keep yourself together. And I bet if I kept telling you how fucking sweet you are, and how much of an perfect angel I know you are for me, the second I slip my fingers into your tight little pussy, you’d be an absolute mess.” 

Well, he’s not wrong. You’re already soaked. 

“Please, sir,” you whimper. “Please just kiss me.” 

Finally, finally, he pulls you in for a long, languid kiss, his tongue takes lead to taste every part of your bitten lips as they slot perfectly in between his, lingering longer with each time he captures them. The blood rushes so quickly through your veins you think you might implode, overwhelmed by just how good it feels that your hands suddenly grapple onto the cuffs of his shirt. 

A satisfied hum buzzes against your lips, twisting your own into a small grin that unbeknown to you, Mr Holland could actually feel. 

“Let me see you,” he demands, his hands plucking at the hem of your sweatshirt. When you don’t do it right away, a tight grip coils around your neck and stops the gasp leaving your mouth. “Do. As. You’re. Told.” 

You’re baring your all for him (all except a diamond necklace) in a matter of seconds, standing before him as he leisurely leans back against the bed, resting on his elbows. Those predatory eyes roam your body, mapping out the shape and details, and imprinting them to memory. 

“So fucking pretty…” He deliberately watches for your reaction and you crumble under the praise resulting in a mirthful laughter to shake his chest. His arms reach for your waist, luring you in with the tight grab of your hips until his lips sit just below your ribs. The heat from his breath hitting your skin makes you involuntarily wriggle, but he doesn’t allow for any movement from you, not unless he permits it. You feel his lips suddenly, trailing across your ribs and up your chest. “Do you know what good girls like you do for me?”

“What?” You breathlessly murmur.

“They get on their knees,” Mr Holland pauses to let you act on it. Now you’re looking up at him as his knuckle ghosts over your cheeks and he mingles closer. “They look at me right in the eyes and they beg me to give them a taste, to let them suck me off because they’ll do anything for a reward, even if it is just a few words of praise. So let’s hear you, pretty girl. I want to hear you beg me with that sweet, innocent voice of yours.” 

You take a cautious breath. “I want to taste you so badly, sir. Please. Will you let me?” 

“Hmm.” He purses his lips. Shit. It isn’t good enough for him and he spots the panic in your eyes. All of a sudden, you begin pleading in such a desperate, childish tone you didn’t know you were capable of. Even your lip begins pouting as the need to please him becomes so overwhelming that, unexpectedly, your eyes water, like you’re facing life or death. And he is the decider. 

“Wait, wait, no, please, I want to make you feel so good, so, so, so good. I can do it, I promise, and I can be good for you if you let me. Please sir, I really need it. I’ll do anything.” 

Mr Holland smiles and gently kisses you with approval, just the shortest of pecks of reassurance before he leans back and nods towards the zipper of his suit trousers, tented with the erection that’s pleading to be satisfied. You waste no time in unbuttoning, unzipping and pulling free his hard cock that almost dwarfs your hand and you stare at him with such bewilderment, a stare that is returned by a certain smugness, a confidence that has you licking your lips. 

There’s a surge of instinct coursing through you and your brain convinces you that there’s nothing else you should be doing, that your whole purpose at this very moment is to do as you promise; to please him, to make him feel good, so when you hear his moans the second you wrap your lips around him, your heart flutters with fulfilment. It’s a sensation you keep chasing, growing stronger the longer you bob your head up and down his cock, every time his praise seeps from his lips, and you just about lose it when his fingers comb through your hair. You offer every trick in the book; swirling around your tongue around the head of his cock, sweeping it across the small slit to collect the small bead of cum, teasing him before taking him down your throat and gagging on him. Not too little, not too much. Consistency is key. 

You’re not sure how much of an idea he has about just how dedicated you are in your mission to prove yourself to him, that you’re desperate to show how capable you are by what you’re willing to do; perhaps a horrible side-effect of having to constantly prove yourself to Jackson with each conversation, but with Mr Holland, there’s an element of belief and confidence: a contradiction between Jackson’s ‘I don’t believe you until you prove it’ versus Mr Holland’s ‘do it because I know you can’. 

Mr Holland’s head falls back, his eyes closed, and falls into an eerie silence. If it wasn’t for his hand still combing through your roots, you would’ve thought he wasn’t satisfied with you. Still, you keep going, running your lips and tongue down his shaft and returning slowly back up again where you get a teaser of the bitter-sweet taste you’re vying for. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you’re undecided of whether you’re doing so well that he’s speechless, or you’re not doing enough that’s worthy of his praise. It’s hard to tell with his head tilted back, and you begin to lose faith. You’ve become so drawn into his voice and words that you feel lost without them.

‘You like being recognised to the point where you need to be reassured of it.’

“Sir,” you meekly voice, leaving a beat to suck on the head of his cock. “Am I making you feel good?” 

The depth of his growl sends a spike of arousal straight to your clit. He spits out his words in a manner that’s uncontrollable. “Fucking incredible.”

His head finally lifts and his eyes pin on you, fully blown and dilated. “Look at you - oh fuck - taking me so well. Knew you’d be a good girl but f-fuck, I don’t know if I can hold it in any longer.” 

You reply with a wanton mewl, your dopey, tear-stained eyes saying the words your mouth can’t. You need to do something that would push him over the edge, do something that would completely shatter his world, never to be forgotten. He’s already so close, and you're already dripping onto the carpet, and with one last final trick up your sleeve, you catch his eyes, sink yourself onto him until your nose bashes against skin, and fight through the gag. Teeth baring, you slowly, lightly, graze your teeth up his cock, ghosting over every vein that pulses, leaving behind the soothing aftercare of your soft lips. By your side, his thighs twitch and by the time you reach the head of his cock, an explosion happens. 

Mr Holland swings forward, grappling onto your head as you drink down everything he gives you. His entire body tenses, trapping you into a headlock and just only for a couple of seconds do you feel yourself losing breath. It's slightly tense and panic-inducing but it doesn’t matter, because above you he’s panting heavily, enclosing his thighs around your head and holding onto you for dear life. It’s all the signs you need to know that you’ve done what you promised, you have proved yourself. 

“Fucking hell,” Mr Holland pants. His grip loosens around you and your lips release him with a pop. The instant your lips are free, he claims them, humming into them with adoration. “That was…” A soft, tender kiss. “The best goddamn…” Then another. “Blow job I’ve ever had.” He kisses you for a final time with a smile laced through it, and rests his forehead on yours to give himself some time to catch his breath. “So good…” he breathes. “So, so, so good. Sweet angel. My sweet angel.”

There isn’t anything to describe the burst of achievement that swarms your chest when you hear those words and your cheeks inevitably heat under his hands. You’re smiling, obviously smiling and no matter how hard you bite your lips to hide it, the pull is too strong. You make yourself far too goddamn easy to read so when Mr Holland catches a glimpse of your reaction, he smirks, clearly amused, and simultaneously reaches down the length of your body until his hand finds sanctum between your thighs. 

“Hmm, you’re soaked, darling. Don’t you think we should do something about it? After all, you’re earned your reward, and I’m dying for a taste of that messy, little pussy of yours.” 

You release a shaky breath when his fingers start exploring. “Yes, oh god, yes.” 

“Yes…what?” 

“Yes, sir!” 

“Better. Let’s not make that mistake again.” 

“No, sir.” 

“Good. Now--”  In a vice-like grip, Mr Holland encircles your waist and your body burns against the rough cashmere of his suit. It’s surprisingly stimulating as he casually hauls you off your feet, but you would much rather the heat of his skin. Nevertheless, your back soon meets the soft cotton of your sheets as he lays you to rest on the bed, remaining shadowing above you basking in the sight of your naked, wanting body. The diamond that nestles deep into the base of your throat twinkles obnoxiously in his eyes and he almost grows jealous of the way it hugs your neck. However, it's a jealousy he can overlook as his eyes wander over the peak of your breasts and your glistening cunt, because he knows that they are all for him. 

Mr Holland promptly sinks to his knees, placing his head in between your thighs, his eyes never straying from your cunt. There isn’t a moment of hesitation when he swings his arms to cross over your hips, dragging your legs effortlessly over his shoulders and diving, tongue first, into your cunt. It’s a complete invasion of his touch, his tongue immediately swirling around your clit with a careful, consistent pressure that deep down, you know will end you in minutes. The gasp is telling of your struggle to keep composed, gradually crescendoing into a moan as that amorous tongue descends down your slit, licking you up in long, fat strips. An urge in your hips begs for attention, wanting to raise higher to ease the tension building deep in your stomach, but you're trapped, locked in place with no routes of escape and you have to tell yourself that you just have to tough it out. 

But it’s harder said than done when he begins slotting his tongue into your hole, tasting and caressing every inch of you he’s capable of reaching. Digging deeper and deeper, his mouth consumes the entirety of your cunt, humming into it to push you further over the edge. He knows you’re hanging on by a thread, but it doesn’t mean he’s willing to slow down. And just then, an evil, malicious thought spawns in his mind which he voices immediately. 

“You’re not cumming until I say so. Understood?” 

The feeling of you clenching to stop the impending orgasm has him chuckling. He knew you were close. 

“Such a sweet, little angel. So obedient too, right?” He blows a gentle breeze onto your clit and you simply whimper in response. “Right?”

“Y-yes, sir.” 

Satisfied, Mr Holland has your cunt in his mouth again, salivating over its taste as he suckles on your clit, your folds, your skin, anything to lure out what he knows he’s going to get eventually, but it makes it twice as appetising when he knows your orgasm is only at his command. 

Meanwhile, your heart stammers in your chest with each tug of his lips. Whatever sanity you have left to cling onto, you claw at it with desperate hands, fighting to hold up the wall that blocks the blood rushing to your cunt, holding your breath to stop the bubble from bursting, because fuck, you are ready to snap. You can’t help but notice how he’s taken a page from your book, pleasuring you at a steady consistent pace, not too much but not too little. Unsurprisingly, the result is the same but the conditions are far worse.

“Oh my god, please let me cum, I can’t hold it anymore.” 

His grip only tightens, his tongue moves faster and his mouth gets hotter. 

Your hands, of a mind of their own, decide to condemn your obedience and push at his arms around your hips in an attempt to get away. Despite his obvious strength, you somehow manage to get a microsecond of respite, but his mouth only sucks you back in again, murmuring only one word that runs laps around your head.

“Obedience.” 

“I can’t, sir, please, I can’t h-hold on. Fuck!” 

“Oh dear.” 

“NO! No, no, no, no, okay, okay, I’ll do it, I can hold on. Just…please go slower.” 

His dark cavernous eyes meet yours from behind his arms, unmoving even as he relishes the taste of your slick, challenging you for only a second before he thankfully listens to your wishes. Weakened, your head flops back onto the bed with a small bounce, eyes drifting shut as the feeling in your stomach calms and a small relief hugs your heart. It’s a small price to pay to lose the feeling of euphoria that was going to course through you…only if Mr Holland had let it or if your people-pleasing traits had failed you, none of which had actually happened. 

The feeling deflates but the pleasure still lingers.

“You taste so delicious, darling. I could eat you all day.” Arousal jumps to your clit like a flash of electricity. “And you’re doing so well for me, how could I ever stop?” This time, it’s his tongue, soft and caressing. “And this pussy; so pretty, so fucking pretty, I could just play with it for days.” His finger begins circling your clit not too long after he spits into it. By now, you realise what he’s doing. He’s feeding into your need for praise that, along with the small touches and sweeping licks, builds you up just as quickly and suddenly as before, and once again you’re struggling to cope. “I know you can be such a good girl for me, I know you can do as I say, and you have no idea how much it turns me on when you do.” 

“Sir…” You warn. He instantly recognises the desperation. 

“I’ve got one last instruction for you, angel.” He sucks on your clit for just a couple of seconds, just to get you closer and closer to falling apart. “Cum for me. Cum in my mouth.” 

“Fuck!” You scream as an endless stream of euphoria consumes you, hitting you in a sudden white wash of heat that riddles your entire body top to toe. You can feel your cunt clenching erratically, between homing an orgasm and suffering under Mr Holland's continuous lashings, it can't, not for one second, rest until either relent. You feel your own slick, hot and bothered, trickling down your ass but before it gets the chance to meet with the white sheets beneath you, Mr Holland sweeps it up expertly with his tongue, partnered with a primal growl of pleasure.

By the time Mr Holland has finished cleaning up every inch of your cunt and ass with his tongue, he proceeds to kiss his way gently up your body, not forgetting to leave your tits untouched and pinches your buds between his lips. You have just enough energy to cradle his head, allowing yourself the pleasure to run your fingers through his hair, moving with him while he leaves sharp kisses to your chest, your collar bone, your neck, ear and jaw, until once again, those hungry lips claim yours.

Still somewhat recovering, you purr quietly, content with the overall sense of pleasure, both of your sexual and people-pleasing needs.

Your lips slowly part. The kiss ceases but your noses brush off one another gently, still basking in the blissful, intimate aftermath of what's just happened. Your CEO above you remains, hovering over you with admiration in his eyes, running over your features as if it is the first time he's seeing them, adoring them all over again.

There's two words sitting on the tip of his tongue, hidden behind a smirk because he knows what he'll see when he speaks them.

"You're beautiful."

Of course, his prediction comes true. Your cheeks redden, your eyes roll away and your teeth sink into your swollen lips, muttering incoherently about it not being true but thanks him incessantly, but Mr Holland is too caught up in your coy modesty to rebuttal. It's just like the first time he complimented you, and he realises then and there that he's addicted to being the person that makes you shy, blushed, diffident.

Being a CEO, he does indeed posses significant power in the palm of his hand, obtained by hard work, dedication, commitment and sacrifice, but for him, there isn't a power stronger than the one he has over you and all it takes is a few, simple, praising words.

"We still have another three hours until check out."

Your eyes and ears perk up. "Sir?"

Cautiously, he shuffles above you, innocent until you feel his cock sliding into you and he relishes the catch in the back of your throat at the sudden pressure forcing its way fluidly into you. You're simply speechless, questioning if it'll ever end as he pushes every inch of him inside you, breaching and stretching the boundaries of your walls. Mr Holland snags your bottom lip between his teeth, harshly biting as a relief for the tight grip that surrounds his cock.

When your ass eventually meet his hips, you both release a groan in unison, breaths mixing and mingling until Mr Holland breaks the silence.

"You're gonna look even more beautiful when you're all fucked out and dumb for my cock, all with a diamond wrapped round your neck."

His hips snap back at a frighteningly fast pace and thrusts in even more aggressively. The pain is immeasurably exhilarating. Your thighs squeeze his waist, mouth agape without a single breath escaping.

"Think of this as a second birthday gift." Like before, he draws back and slams into you without mercy. "Do as you're told and you'll get your third on Monday in my office."

Somehow, your gut tells you that you won't have a problem with that. Not at all.

#dom!tom holland #ceo!tom holland #soft!dom!tom holland #sub!reader #tom holland smut #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #smut #angst #peter parker smut #one shot #peter parker #tom holland one shot #tom holland fanfic #praise you like i should

[havensins]

pls pls idk if this is where we send submissions but pls pls write abt ftm whinny whimpery mess peter parker or marc spector as theyre being bred by reader, creampie after creampie. Marc or Peter depending on who u choose to write for are a mess, moaning, whimpering and letting out pathetic noises, covered in bites and hickies fhkshfjddjjdjdjd The reader is rough with them but still peppers them with soft kisses and sweet nonsense in their ears as theyre being fucked

i chose to do peter parker for this bc it just fits so well?? like omg just think about it.

ftm peter who’s on his back with his legs wrapped around your waist as he holds you so close that your chests touch. he’s weakly scratching at your back as you fuck into him.

he couldn’t even remember how many times he’d came or how many times you came, he just knows he can feel the warmth of your cum being fucked back into him with every thrust.

and peter, bless his heart, is already so sensitive by nature! with the first time you cum in him, he’s already trembling and shaking and.. and then you don’t stop. you keep fucking him like he’s your own personal toy to use as you leave load after load in his cunt.

and the balance between the rough snaps of your hips into his cs the way you’re holding him as if he’s glass nearly gives him whiplash. he’s trembling in your hold as you kiss down his neck, and you can feel his short nails scratching at your back when you hold him flush to your hips as you cum in him once again.

pulling away, he looks so perfect. you wish you had a physical camera to take a picture of the sight. he’s littered in hickies and bite marks. his hair is splayed over the pillows in a messy fashion, he’s flushed red and covered in a light sheen of sweat.

the moment is so perfect, you couldn’t help but rock your hips up a little. “how much more do you think i could stuff your pretty pussy, peter?” you ask him, still rocking into him slowly. “wan’ your cum,” he whines, gasping harshly and you can feel the vice like grip his gummy walls had on your cock.

you just grin down at him, draping your body over his as you kiss behind his ear. “you can have whatever you’d like,”

#answered #dom male reader #dom!reader #top male reader #avengers x male reader #marvel x male reader #avengers x reader #sub!peter #sub!peter parker #peter parker smut #sub peter parker #sub peter #ftm peter parker

[l1tw1ck]

Because of a Party

bottom!ftm!tasm!Peter Parker x top!masc reader

🕷️ Word Count: 1,843 🕷️

↳ [REQUEST] | [No AFAB Language Version]

CW: Dub-Con (Dry Humping), Drunkenness, Blowjob, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Biting, Marking

Peter and Gwen have been friends for a few years and most people think Peter’s in love with her. But in reality, he's in love with you. You don't talk to him much, you have your own group of friends and he's a year older so you never even considered becoming his friend. Peter's been content with just watching you from afar since he’s convinced he has no chance with you. He figured nothing would happen and you’d just be an old crush in a few years.

All that changed when Gwen heard you were going to a party. She asked if Peter could come with you because he spends all his time studying and working. You figured you should get along better with who you think is going to be your sister’s future boyfriend so you agreed.

Now you're at your friend’s house and Peter drank way too much in an attempt to ease up and enjoy the party. You didn't know until it was too late and at this point you're too drunk to bring him home so you ask your friend for help. He gives you the key to one of the guest bedrooms so he can sober up.

You drop Peter onto the bed and sit down next to him. He shimmies out of his uncomfortable jeans, leaving him in just his underwear. Peter mumbles your name and pulls you onto your back to make you lie down with him. You turn your body to look at him, your faces too close together for both of your comforts. You look into his eyes and wait for him to speak but instead of talking, he goes in for a kiss. You’re not sure why, but you actually reciprocate the kiss. Peter has no idea what he's doing but you can't tell, and even if you could you're too drunk to care. He pulls your pants down just enough to grope your bulge and get you hard. He moves his hand away and wraps his leg around yours, adjusting himself so that his pussy is right against your boner. He starts to desperately rub his cunt against you, humping you at an unnaturally fast pace.

You pull away from the kiss. “Peter..”

“[Name]–” He gasps. “Fuck- mmh~” He throws his head back. He moves like he's never touched himself before, it's clear that he's enjoying himself. He whimpers as he feels his orgasm quickly approaching. “yes! yes!”

You let him bring himself to his completion, watching as he comes from humping you. He looks so irresistible like this. You gulp, trying to hold back all the urges you have right now.

Peter calms down and lies on his back. Before you can even speak he passes out, leaving you to take care of your boner by yourself. You sigh. At least this won't be the last time you see him.

Your family’s flying to England to visit Gwen’s new choice of college. She decided New York wasn't giving her what she needed so she applied and got a full scholarship. She’s moving in the summer but your parents wanted to help her find a new place. Your brothers wanted to come along too. You stayed back because you wanted to talk to Peter about the party. You’ve seen him a few times but you never had the chance to get him alone but now's the perfect time. It's especially perfect if that conversation leads to something more.

You invited him over under the guise of needing help with science homework, since you assume that he's forgotten all about the party.

Your original plan was to have a civil conversation but now that he's right in front of you, you don't know what to say. You bring him to your room, planning to wait for a better moment to talk about it.

“Do you remember anything that happened during the party? My memory kind of stopped at some point and I woke up with a splitting headache.”

You turn around. “You don't remember?” You ask. He shakes his head. “Anything?” You step closer to him. He shakes his head again. “You were all over me at the party.”

His eyes widen. What did he do?

You lean into his ear. “You were rubbing yourself on my cock and acting like a desperate whore. You didn't even let me come.” You chuckle at the last part.

His cheeks are even redder than before. The visual you just gave him is setting him on fire. Was he clothed? Or did he rub his bare cunt on you? The thought is driving him insane.

“You’ll make it up to me though, right?”

Peter nods. He can't even begin to describe how he feels, he might just explode.

“Get on your knees.” You order. He quickly sinks down to the floor and pulls your pants down. “That's a good boy.” You praise him. He's surprised at how much his body reacted to hearing that, he's already soaking wet. He slowly tugs on the waistband of your underwear, almost scared to see what's underneath. He looks up at you then back at your bulge before impulsively shoving your boxers down.

“shit..” He gasps. You're definitely well endowed. He holds it in his hand and gently licks the tip. He wraps his lips around your girth and slides his mouth down almost to the hilt. He moves backwards and forwards, sucking your cock feverishly. He doesn't have any experience but he's determined to make you feel good. Even though he's not experienced, it feels amazing. Just seeing him and his eagerness is enough for you. He looks adorable doing it.

“That’s right, you’re doing so well, baby.” You murmur, running your hands through his hair. Peter blushes and looks up at you, shivering when he sees your expression. He closes his eyes and speeds up his movements. He can't believe that he's in this situation. He’s dreamt and fantasized about being with you for years and now it's finally a reality. He thanks his drunken self for getting you interested in him. “Peter-” You breathe out.

He pulls away from you and jerks you off. “Mmh?” He looks up at you.

“‘M gonna come-” You warn. His eyes widen and he quickly goes back to sucking you off. He wants to swallow it. Your peak comes even faster when you realize his intentions. Peter swallows your cum happily, enjoying your taste. He pulls away and looks at you with a small smile. God he’s so cute.

You help him stand up and bring him to his bed. “Is this your first time?” You ask, taking your shirt off. Peter nods, taking his clothes off too. “I’ll be gentle.” You promise.

“You don't have to be.” He smiles. “Be as rough as you want. I can take it.” The room starts to get hotter.

“Oh yeah?” You smirk, running two fingers down his cunt before slowly pushing them inside of him. “I think you overestimate yourself.”

“I disagree.” He grabs your wrist and pushes your fingers in all the way, a soft moan leaving his lips. “I think it's the other way around.”

“Really now?” You move closer to his face. “Why don't we find out?” You angle your fingers a certain way, hitting his g spot exactly and causing him to moan. Before Peter can get another word out, you hit it again. And again, and again. You give him a break and move your face in between his legs. Your tongue against his clit runs a shiver up his spine. His eyes widen when your tongue enters him. He knew it’d feel good but not this good!

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Oh- [Name]~!” He throws his head back and lifts his hips. “Li- like that! Oh my God–”

Out of embarrassment, Peter grabs a pillow and brings it to his face. You’d like to hear him but you don't want to force anything out of him. He practically screams into the pillow. He feels like he's floating. He needs more. More. More. More! More! Yes! Peter feels his entire body react to the feeling of your tongue against his pleasure spot. Slick suddenly gushes out of him like he had a secret water gun in between his legs. He’s never had an orgasm this powerful before. He wants to feel it again.

You pull away from him and wipe your face. “You really liked that, huh?”

Peter moves the pillow away and nods. “I loved it.”

You hold your aching cock, pre cum dribbling out of it steadily. He can see how horny and desperate you are, he has a good estimate of how rough you're gonna be and he's so fucking ready.

“You don't have any plans for tomorrow, do you?” You ask, sliding a condom on.

He shakes his head quickly.

“Good. Because I don't think you’ll be able to go anywhere once I’m done with you.” You ease yourself inside him. You grab his legs and fold him in half. “Ready?”

“Fuck yes– AH~!” He moans loudly as you ram into him like there's no tomorrow. He doesn't even consider the fact that your neighbors can most definitely hear him and you're enjoying this too much to silence him. He looks down at his cunt, loving the way your cock slides in and out of it, then up at you.

“You feel so good, Peter.” You praise him in between breaths, leaning in to kiss his neck and make hickeys. He moves to expose more of his neck to you, encouraging you to continue. You stop sucking his neck and Peter can hear your heavy breathing even more clearly. He doesn't know why but he loves it.

“Bi- bite me~” He places his hand on your head and urges you to do it. It doesn't take you any convincing, you sink your teeth into his neck, almost deep enough to draw blood but not quite. He lets out a loud, breathy moan and comes. You slow down your thrusts, taking in the feeling of his pussy convulsing around you. “Hah– keep- keep going..”

You pull out, making him whine, and flip him onto his stomach. You raise his ass and slide back into him. You grip his waist and roughly fuck into him. Peter rolls his eyes back, his moans muffled by the pillow. He feels like he’s on cloud nine. He can barely think properly. You lean forward and graze your teeth against his neck. Peter’s breath hitches in response. You bite him again, his pussy squeezing you tight. You create a plethora of hickeys and bite marks all over his back, leaving the two of you with something to admire in the morning. “Gonna come..” You moan, slowing down. You thrust into him a few more times before stopping and filling up the condom with your spend.

You pull out and take off the condom, throwing it in the trash. Peter looks at you, his face flushed. “Felt so good..” He smiles.

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