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shawnxstyles · 1 year

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please, call me peter

DATE: JANUARY 6, 2023

summary: you haven’t been able to come with anyone besides yourself, making you think something’s wrong with you. once you go to the gynecologist, dr. parker shows you that you’re just fine.

request: yes yes

words: 3.4k

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering], dub-con, small praise kink, dirty talking), and a cute ending.

note: shooting out requests like webs. sorry that was lame. if this makes you uncomfortable, do not read.

gynecologist!peter x female!reader

—

Your eyes scan the white room while you sit impatiently. Your heart lightly thuds in your chest and your fingers drum rapidly along your clothed thigh. The nurse had asked if you wanted to change into a hospital gown, which you politely denied. She gave you an indifferent expression before walking out, leaving you here.

You were at the gynecologist for one concerning reason; every time you had sex, you couldn’t come. Your previous relationship ended because you were unable to reach that euphoric high, which you believed was a ridiculous reason to leave someone. You weren’t as sad as you thought you’d be because you were too concerned with your own well-being to dwell on some bloke.

Before heading to the doctor, you had a quick hook-up, assuming that you and your ex just weren’t sexually compatible. But then you were proved wrong when you didn’t come. Again. You weren’t really the hook-up type, in fear of catching some unwanted disease or infection. Finally, you took matters into your own hands, literally, and masturbated with your fingers until you orgasmed all over your bed sheets.

See? It wasn’t impossible.

Then why couldn’t you come with other people? It had to be your fault. It had to be.

So, again, you were left here in the small hospital room sitting between empty stirrups with your ankles tightly crossed. The widening of the wooden door alerted you, your eyes shooting towards the man entering the room.

A guy? Your gynecologist was a guy?

You knew you were a decently healthy person because you were always on track with your appointments, even small check-ups. Because of your good wellness, you had never needed to go to the gyno. Until now, which seemed a bit nerve-racking all of a sudden.

The second the doctor turned around, you knew exactly why.

Warm, brown eyes peer at you with tenderness. Chestnut curls rest upon his head a little messily, but in the cutest way. He wore a professional lab coat over his casual clothing. His ribbed shirt and blue jeans seemed to match him perfectly. His cheeks appear a tinge pink when he smiles, welcoming and greeting you.

Oh shit.

“I’m Dr. Parker, and you are?” Dr. Parker asks as he plops onto his spinny chair. His eyes stare deeply into yours, causing your heart to race more than you’d like to admit. His voice was as attractive as his face, and you tried to convince yourself that he had to have at least one bad quality that you just haven’t seen yet, so you didn’t soak your panties.

“Y/N,” You blink to wash away the feeling of your nerves as your palms get clammy. “but you probably knew that already.”

“That is true, but I like for my patients to introduce themselves to me directly,” He states simply and you nod in response. Your sweaty hands interlocked over your thighs to ease yourself.

“So, what brings you in here today, Y/N?” Dr. Parker questions with a lick of his lips. He can’t help himself when his eyes drift nonchalantly, but quickly down your body. You were beautiful, which made it hard to concentrate on anything else, especially when you started talking. Your voice was silky, and he wanted to ask you more questions just so he could hear it more.

“I…” You were a bit embarrassed to share your reasoning. Was it common? Will he laugh at you? No, of course not, he’s a doctor! You battled with yourself in your head before spitting it out. “I can’t come during sex.”

Your jaw clenched as your hand practically hit your forehead in embarrassment. You couldn’t look at him because he was probably holding back a laugh. But you also couldn’t look at him because he was so handsome you might melt.

True be told, Peter already knew why you were here. He read the small report the nurse got before he entered. It was part of protocol and he wanted to hear you describe it yourself.

“That’s okay, darling. Nothing to be ashamed of,” He reassures gently as you remove your hand from your face. He smiles sincerely and you smile bashfully back. The nickname erupts butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t disregard the small wetness you feel trickle in your underwear.

When he asks, you go on to explain your situation in detail, even including the part about your ex-boyfriend dumping you. When Peter hears this, his jaw subtly clenches as irritation spreads through him.

Who breaks up with someone for that? He wanted to ask, but knew that was probably inappropriate. He does need to question you professionally though to ensure there’s nothing wrong. However, he thinks he already knows the answer.

“I’m going to ask you some questions that get pretty personal,” Parker faces his notes with you in the corner of his eye. You nod as your nervousness never fades and your heart beat remains quite fast.

Most of his questions were simple and straightforward, so you weren’t too ashamed to answer.

“Do you have any pain?”

“No.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

“Two years,” You eyes strayed away from him, thumbs twiddling in your lap like an anxious child. He wonders how you got birth control without going to the gynecologist in the past, seeming as though you’ve had no history.

However, some questions made the heat rise to your cheeks. Your arousal worsened the more Dr. Parker spoke, his voice warm and soothing like honey.

“To clarify, you have orgasmed before, correct?” Peter was able to focus when his eyes were glued to his papers, but one glance at your adorable shyness and his cock was semi-hard in his boxers.

“Yes, I-I did it myself,” You hissed at yourself for stuttering. He made you so starstruck it was hard to form words. You didn’t meet many people like that in your life— now that you think of it, none at all. He surveys you for a moment you think was a little too long, and you tighten your ankles together at his burning gaze.

“Um,” He grunts, covering it up with a cough as his cheeks turn pink a tad more. Your lip subtly curls into a smile at his cuteness. Peter was nervous for the first time in a while, fingers shaking as he scribbled notes about you. He felt as silly as a child who had a crush on a classmate. “you seem very well.”

“So nothing’s wrong?” Your eyebrows crinkle in confusion, a lost expression cascading over your face when you feel like you’ve hit a dead end. You gaze at the floor, trying to understand.

“Not directly,” He says to reassure you. Your eyes meet his with a head tilt. Now, you were really confused.

“What do I do then?”

“Don’t have sex with idiots,” He grumbles, honestly hoping you didn’t hear it. But of course you did. Your heart rate quickens wildly in your chest at his blunt statement. “but to make sure, I’m going to check you, okay?”

Your eyes widen for a moment, not thinking you would have to be checked. Your thoughts immediately shoot to your soaked panties and how he’ll see your very visual arousal. Hopefully, he assumes it’s from nerves.

“Would you like to change into something more comfortable and accessible?” He asks, looking at your shirt with jean shorts. He checks most of his patients, so usually they would have been in a gown already. But at this hospital, the patient didn’t have to change, even though it was highly recommended. However, when they rarely denied the new wardrobe, the doctor had to undress the patient themselves. So far in Peter’s career, he’s only had to do that with incidents that were an emergency.

“No, thank you,” You answered with no explanation. Secretly, you hated the material of the gown and you swore it gave you rashes. Maybe you were allergic?

Dr. Parker nods once and turns to his little side table beside you. He slips on his blue gloves and tells you exactly what he’s going to do, so you’re not unprepared.

“And since you’re not in a gown, the protocol is that I must undress you myself,” Peter feels the burning red flame up his cheeks at his statement. Your eyes widen again at the image of the sensual action, but nod in understanding.

Who made that rule? You wanted to ask, but it seemed disrespectful. You honestly couldn’t tell if you loved or hated the person that invented that idea. Picturing Dr. Parker strip you only made a pool in your panties.

Peter’s gloved fingers unbutton and zip down your jean shorts with your permission. It was slow and steady, unlike your heart that was bouncing off the walls of your ribs. You know he could see your heavy breathing as your stomach rose up and down too quickly under the thin material of your shirt.

Your shorts were removed and then he was on to your underwear.

Peter’s cock pulsed in his jeans at the wet patch on your panties, his red blush never fading. He wanted to press the pad of his thumb against your throbbing clit. He would rub you over the flimsy fabric and then make you moan for him as he fucked you roughly with his fingers. He could assume that you were tight and tense because of your struggle to orgasm with another person, but the thought only made his cock twitch needily as he imagined you squeezing around him.

“Are you okay so far? And can I remove these?” He asks for consent and patiently waits. You nod, but he’s not having that. “Words, Y/N. I need you to say it.”

His demand caused you to clench around nothing as you stutter out a trembling yes, so he can proceed. Peter delicately removes your panties, sliding them down your supple legs and placing them with your shorts. You didn’t open your legs, but you knew he’d already seen the wetness leaking out of you.

“Okay, um,” His professionalism was fading from him. He wanted to devour you because you probably tasted amazing. The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, making it hard to focus on anything. “Put your legs on these stirrups. I’ll help you.”

He guides your legs into the holders, strongly resisting the urge to gawk at your vulnerable area. Once you were settled, he looked down and nearly came right there. Arousal drowned your folds as your puffy clit poked out behind it all. He noticed the fluttering of your folds as the cold air hit your wetness. He wouldn’t need to use any lube on you for sure. Peter was losing his cool and was about to lose everything if he did not pull himself together.

“I’m about to start. Are you okay?” He could sense your nervousness from a mile away. He wanted to make sure you were okay, even if you’ve had sex multiple times before.

“Yes, doctor,” You reassure and his jaw subtly locks at his label leaving from your mouth. He avoids picturing his falling from your pretty lips, so he could focus on the task at hand. You didn’t notice, too caught up in your own thoughts of his fingers entering you. You wanted him to pound them into you mercilessly because you know he’d know all the right spots and special places to hit. You can imagine he’s soft and caring, and always gives immense pleasure to the woman.

You almost gasp aloud when you come to a realization; he probably has a girlfriend. Or a wife. A wife and kids. You don’t remember seeing a ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. Oh, God, you were daydreaming sexual thoughts about your gynecologist who would probably freak out if he could hear them.

“If it makes you more comfortable, my name is Peter. Sometimes that small detail helps the patients relax more,” He noticed your sudden panicked state and high tension in your legs, wanting to calm you down, so it doesn’t hurt. It was perfectly fine to be nervous, but it wasn’t fine for him to be this nervous. He’s a professional doctor, yet he’s thinking about ruining it all just to please you at this moment.

You feel the latex gloves graze your folds, making your heart jump up into your throat. Peter’s middle finger practically teases your entrance, and you hold back pathetic whimpers. Once he slips his middle finger inside, you release a shuddery moan. His finger stills, deep inside of you while he gives you a second to adjust.

“Relax for me,” You try not to clench around him, but you’re a lost cause when he begins to wiggle it around the tight space. Peter is struggling. His cock is about to burst at the seams while his middle finger sinks far inside you. Your clenching walls and hushed noises nearly make him moan. He sees you resisting the urge to moan and it’s killing him because he wants to hear you.

“You can moan,” Peter says, voice low and sultry. “It’s welcomed.” He curls his finger and slowly pushes in and out. You don’t hold back your moan this time as lust begins to fill your vision. It feels too good, even though you know it’s wrong. You feel yourself getting wetter and wetter at his skilled finger and his concentrated expression.

Peter is positive you’re enjoying this. He can’t resist you anymore when he has you spread open for him. Plus, he found nothing peculiar inside, you seemed healthy. He could stop now if he’d like, but the contraction of your pussy walls around his finger and the sweet whimpers you’re eliciting spur him to continue.

“How does this feel, Y/N?” Peter’s voice was gravelly and lustful; you were sure to catch on by now. His question was borderline professional, yet inappropriate. At this point, Peter couldn’t care less because your face said it all.

“Good, really good,” You admitted with fluttering eyes as your hands gripped the sides of your shirt. Your name out of his mouth made you melt into his touch as you instinctively grinded your hips into his hand.

“What about this?” His ring finger slides in effortlessly, and they both curl inside you. You gasp, eliciting another shaky moan. His digits were thick and just the right length to satisfy you without even needing his cock, even though you wanted it. “God, you’re so tight. Imagine what you’d feel like around my cock.” He grumbles.

You gasp at his sudden profound language, but the dirtiness only made you more aroused. Your brain imagined how his cock would look buried so deep inside of you that you’d feel him in your stomach. You imagine this pre-cum leaking from his tip as he pulls out of you just to slam back in. Your core tensed at the thought.

“I didn’t hear you, Y/N,” He grunts gravelly, slowing his movements. He slips his fingers out, removing the glove swiftly. You whine at the emptiness, answering him. He was so sweet, yet dirty, and you loved it.

“So good! It feels so good, please don’t stop,” You plead and he smirks in satisfaction as he continues. His thumb rolls over your puffy clit, making your hips press into his hand as he slips back in. Your thighs contracted as they begged to close, but the locked stirrups blocked you from doing so.

“Who’s making you feel this good?” His tone was smooth and clear, almost contradicting his sinful actions. His pace becomes brutal, ramming in and out of you with no mercy. The rough texture of his bare hand sends a shiver up your spine as your orgasm nears.

“You! You, Peter,” Your chest heaves as choked moans leave your lips. His digits rub your throbbing nerves as his fingers glide against your walls addictingly good. Your fingernails dig into the soft flesh of your trembling thighs. His lips raise in another smirk as his cheeks flush that familiar pink. “I’m close, Peter,” You whimper, causing him to hiss at the harsh pulsing of his shaft when his name falls delicately from your lips just how he imagined.

“I know, honey. Can feel you clenching around me,” He groans when you release another noise of pleasure. His eyes wander down to your aching cunt as his fingers become drenched in your juices. You’re squeezing him torturously, on the edge of your break.

“Are you gonna come? Gonna come for me?”

Without another moment, your orgasm ripples through your body with a blissful wail. Clenched muscles and screwed eyes don’t even express the full ecstasy you feel. White liquid saturates Peter’s bare fingers before he licks them clean. It wasn’t the most sanitary, but he didn’t give one fuck.

Your face screams fucked out; perspired skin, droopy eyes, and a weary smile. In his ideal situation, he would have devoured you until you couldn’t take it anymore. But that was for another time. If there ever was another time, which he hoped there would be.

Just maybe not in a hospital.

“Well, Y/N, it seems like you are very healthy,” Peter grins, taking the tissues to clean you thoroughly. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks at his joking comment.

“Thanks, doctor,” Your voice came out a bit squeaky while your heart continued to stammer in your chest.

“After that, I think you should call me Peter,” He chuckles, sliding away in his stool to discard the tissues. Heat burns your skin from his adorable laugh.

“Peter it is then,” He helps you down the stirrups and you begin to get dressed with a goofy smile curling on your face. Peter doesn’t fail to notice this as his thoughts begin to wander. He knows he just met you, but he wants to see where this goes. He is confident that you’re interested in him (at least enough for him to finger you), so maybe asking you out isn’t the crazy idea he’s ever had.

“Y/N?” Suddenly, he didn’t feel so confident.

“Yeah?” Your response was breathless.

“Would you, um,” Peter hesitated to find the words. He really was like a little kid talking to his crush for the first time. “like to go out sometime? Maybe?”

You admire his bashfulness. He anxiously rolls up his coat sleeves while his face displaces a rosy blush. His brown eyes twinkled with hope as he waited for a reply.

“I would like that, doctor,” You smile genuinely and sweetly, your joyful energy calming his pent-up nerves. “I mean Peter.” You giggle when he blushes.

“Okay, okay, this is great. Here’s my number,” Peter scribbles messily on a small sheet of note paper, handing it to you. It was adorable how nervous he was for being a well-respected doctor who waltzed in with a sweet kind of confidence. You were giddy as well, but you were way better at hiding it clearly. You snatch the sheet with your fingers, tucking it away in your palm.

“Do you do this with all your patients, Dr. Parker?” You tease with a quirked eyebrow and a pointed finger at his chest. Peter huffs out a chuckle while clicking his tongue.

“Only the most beautiful ones,” He gently lifts your finger, kissing it gently before striding out of the room. Peter doesn’t forget to leave an arrogant wink as the heavy, wooden door closes abruptly.

Maybe being a doctor does make him arrogant. Sometimes.

You stand frozen, starstruck. Your breathing was back to heaving again because he left you breathless. And speechless. You jokingly wondered for a minute if you would die from a heart attack, due to the rapid thumping of a stupid organ against your ribs. Curious, you open your palm and unfold the slip of paper he wrote hastingly. Glancing past the number, you notice the small words underneath.

Please, call me Peter.

—

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ruewrote · 3 months

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𝑠𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

PAIRING: peter parker x gn!reader WARNINGS: arguing, strong language GENRE: angst SONG INSPIRATION: naked by james arthur WORD COUNT: 440

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you couldn't keep doing this with him. finally coming to the terms that peter would never truly choose you. him being out every single night without fail proved that.

today everything changes, you choose yourself instead of him.

there had been one too many date nights cancelled, one too many times that he'd slip into bed with you not knowing that you were still awake with tear stained cheeks.

what was the point anymore? you barely saw him as is.

loving him with all your might to only get little to nothing in return was draining.

if it wasn't the relationship or lack there of, it was your job. your boss asking too much too late, your family were there for you, but you could feel their constant concern and worry.

dark circles formed under your eyes from the little to no sleep you were getting, hair almost always a mess since when you did sleep you would wake up late and had to rush out of the door.

back to laying in your shared bed alone for what felt like the millionth time.

you just couldn't take it anymore and why should you?

that lead to you hurriedly packing your bags, already calling your sister and letting her know what was happening and she welcomed you into her home with open arms.

it was late when you arrived, so you quietly moved your stuff into her guest room, her bidding you a goodnight as the door closes. you were left alone again with your thoughts.

phone vibrating in your hand as pete's texts rolled in. asking where you were and if you were okay, just leaving him on read before completely turning off your phone.

you don't owe him an explanation, you didn't owe him jackshit. not for the way he treats you.

flopping down onto the bed, rolling yourself up into the covers not bothering to change.

tears fill your eyes when you think about how different he used to be, just your cute nerdy boyfriend. the one that would facetime you when he was building his new lego set, the one that would drop everything that he had going on to look after you when you were sick.

the same guy who was too shy to ask you out so he wrote little love notes and only up until you caught him in the act then he confessed his feelings for you.

it all changed when he got bit by that stupid spider, as much as you love spiderman, you loved peter parker more.

you just wanted your boyfriend back. was that too much to ask for?

possible part two...

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izzylovesyou2022 · 2 years

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The Poet And The Beat~ TASM!GUITARIST!Peter Parker

Plot: Peter meets Evie, a poet looking to make a name in a new town. He’s a guitarist looking for a new start. They won’t fall in love.....or willll they?

Tropes: friends to lovers, guitarist!au, poet!au

Evie Cast knew too much about writing to be called a beginner. After all, she’d been writing since the age of seven. She’d published a book of poems when she turned twelve.

Unfortunately, the world didn’t treat her like her friends did. Her rounded face made her look too young for most publishers. Evie was young for publishing standards, having just turned eighteen six months ago. Not that she really cared what people thought of her. She’d publish on Amazon if she had too.

Little detailed snowflakes slipped into her hair and blanketed the ground as she walked along the streets of New York.

Evie had moved here from a small town in upper New York. She’d dreamed of living in the big city her whole life and she jumped at the chance to work at a newspaper firm as an editor.

As Evie moved along, carefully watching her step, her thoughts wandered to a new book she’d been editing for the last few weeks. Nature being one of her favorite subjects, she believed it was high time she published a book about it.

As so often happened when her brain wandered to thoughts of poetry, Evie lost track of her surroundings. She’d stopped paying attention to where she stepped and didn’t notice the large mark of ice until it was too late.

Up went her legs into the air as her arms twirled, trying hard to catch herself. Evie winced as she braced herself for impact with the cold surface but got quite the shock when she felt a pair of strong arms embracing her instead.

“Hey, you gotta be careful on these streets. Are you alright, cookie?”

Any other day, Evie would’ve been pissed at a guy calling her a nickname like that, but she allowed herself to be wrapped up in the warmth of the voice saying it and dared to look at him.

A pair of hazel brown eyes that looked like a nice cup of hot chocolate were locked on hers, a concerned frown tugging at his lips. She observed brown waves of hair sticking out under a royal blue beanie and the gold flash of a chain around his neckline.

“Oh, um, yes, thanks to you,” Evie breathed, steadying herself against him as he placed her back on his feet. His muscles heaved under her fingers and she had a quick flash of how those arms would feel wrapped around her in another way.

“I’m Peter,” the boy offered, flashing Evie a sweet smile that could’ve melted her into a puddle on the spot if she hadn’t been shaken up.

Evie licked her lips in an attempt to swallow her shock and gave Peter a smile in return.

“Evie. Evie Cast.”

She noticed a flash of something....maybe familiarity....spark across Peter’s haunting hazel eyes and noticed his hands reaching for the straps of his backpack.

“Weren’t you the girl that published a poetry book when you were 12?”

Evie stared and nearly choked in complete shock. How had he even come across her book? She didn’t even think it had made its way to the “Big Apple!” Wait....had he read her book? If he’d read her book, she’d pass out right here on the sidewalk.

“Um, yeah, I was.”

Peter suddenly took her by the elbow and steered her in the direction of a nearby coffee shop. Evie went along with it, mostly because her brain had short-circuited too much to ask any questions.

That her book might have actually been read by people living in the biggest city in the country was made than she could handle. And the cute boy next to her might have read it! How was she going to get through the rest of the day?

The blast of warmth from the coffee shop tore Evie from her reverie and she gasped in a huge breath of air, thankful to be out of the cold.

Her eyes wandered around the room as Peter steered her towards the counter. At the table right next to the counter was a man not much older than herself. His pen tapped along the rings of his notebook as he whispered to himself. He must’ve been talking himself through his next writing, Evie thought.

In the far corner of the shop stood a black bookshelf with tons and tons of books. Evie hoped there might be an Emily Dickinson or Walt Whitman novel waiting for her to open.

“Hey, cookie? Do you know what you want to drink?”

This time, it was Peter’s voice that withdrew Evie from her daydream and forced her attention upward towards the menu hanging on the ceiling.

“Just a hot chocolate for me, thank you,” she told the worker as she dug into her purse for her wallet.

She had just placed her golden yellow wallet up onto the counter and made a movement to withdraw her card when the clucking of a tongue caught her attention.

“Tsk, Tsk, cookie. The man always pays on the first date.”

Evie opened her mouth to protest but one quick glance into those hazel eyes and all arguments flew out the window. This was so unfair. She wasn’t supposed to be tongue tied. After all, she’d been using words all over the place her entire life. But this devil named Peter Parker somehow snatched away her ability to say a word.

She swallowed hard and shook her head to clear it as Peter handed her the drink.

“You’re not normally this tongue-tied, are you, cookie?”

Evie managed to find her words and regain control of herself as she and Peter took seats near a wide window near the front of the cafe.

“No, Peter, I’m not. Can I ask why you pulled me into the cafe?”

She eyed Peter with an arched eyebrow and smiled around her cup when his face painted cherry red.

“Well,” he began, fumbling with his cup in an attempt to avoid Evie’s eyes, “I’ve always wanted to meet you. You just have a way with words that could really fit in with my music.”

A thoughtful hum exited her mouth and she lowered her cup, steam swirling from the open lid.

“You’re a guitarist, then?”

Peter looked down at the table and slowly nodded.

“And you would like to have me as a song writer.”

Peter’s eyes widened to an almost bizarre amount as he finally gathered the courage to lock eyes with her. Could this girl actually read his mind?

“Yeah.”

A smirk played at the edge’s of Evie’s lips as she tossed the purple straight hair away from her eyes. Song writing was not so different than poetry writing. She’d done both but found that, basically, they were one in the same. Except lyrics had music behind it.

“When do you want me to start?”

*******************************************************************************************

Fate felt very determined to pull Peter and Evie together. They’d run into each other more times than could be counted in that next week. They’d spent most of that week discussing the song over text and phone calls. Most of those phone calls were interrupted by shouts from Peter’s Aunt May about one thing or another, but Evie couldn’t really say she minded all that much.

“Have you given a lot of thought to the melody yet, Pete,” she asked on a snowy Saturday afternoon at the same coffee shop. Their table bore two different notebooks: one was Peter’s and the other was Evie’s.

Peter’s red guitar case leaned against the window still. He’d been fingering with the zipper, lost in thought until Evie’s question brought him back to reality.

“I kinda have something but it’s not exactly finalized, ya know?”

Evie hummed and glanced down at the words she had written down. Peter wasn’t expecting perfection, she knew that, but she’d started caring enough for Peter over that last week that she wanted his song to be a marvel.

She eyed Peter’s guitar case and, with great finality, slammed her notebook shut.

“Let me see your guitar, Pete.”

If Peter in anyway felt confused or concerned at the sudden eagerness in Evie’s voice, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he simply did as she asked and took the guitar it’s case.

The once clean guitar held dents and scars from years of being played. A particularly nasty dent lay right near the bottom guitar string (the “E” string), but in their eyes, a guitar sounded much much better as an older, imperfect instrument.

“What do you have in mind there, cookie,” he asked, sitting up much straighter in his chair than he had been.

Evie paid no mind to his question and swayed in her seat as she delicately plucked each string. Her slender fingers danced over the strings as her booted foot tapped lightly against the floor. She hadn’t told Peter that she had once played the guitar before she gave it up due to writing taking her main focus.

She stared down at her closed notebook and shivered. The thought of picking up guitar again moved something inside her. Like her heart screamed at her to go back to the days of playing the guitar and writing little songs.

“I’m thinking we should do an acoustic song, Pete. Something beautiful that will draw people in,” she decided, tilting her head at Peter as her fingers played with the strings.

Peter’s lips quirked dangerously to the side at the sight of Evie staring at him with those big green eyes. Those eyes that held so much light and joy. If he held the melody, she held the very words into his soul.

Was he falling too fast? Yes, but that wasn’t for him to decide. His heart needed to have her.

*******************************************************************************************

It had been about two months since Peter and Evie met but the sparks between them grew stronger every day. For them, meeting up wasn’t just about the songs anymore. No, the meetings were for them.

On this particularly warm winter day, Peter walked the two blocks from his apartments to Evie’s work to take her on a surprise date. He’d decided to dress up a little by wearing a purple collared shirt, khakis, and a new pair of winter boots. Evie would be coming out of work any moment.

“Oh! Peter, I thought you had to go into the studio today,” Evie exclaimed as she stepped around the corner of the door. Not that she wasn’t pleased to see Peter, he always managed to make her smile.

She smiled even wider and her heart beat a little faster as Peter took her hand in his. His huge fingers engulfed hers but she welcomed the size-difference. Peter had called her “shorty” so many times the last week, it became an inside joke for them.

“Well, cookie, it just wouldn’t be a good day without seeing your pretty face,” Peter sang out, causing Evie to laugh in spite of the blush on her cheeks.

“Not too loud, Petey! Don’t want all of New York to hear,” she giggled.

A tight squeeze on her hand made her look up into Peter’s gorgeous hazel eyes.

“I forgot you’re more of the quiet type. Sorry, cookie!”

Another laugh echoed from Evie’s throat and she rolled her eyes good-naturally at him.

“Where are you taking me, Petey? A secret hideout?”

“No, cookie. I’m taking you to the studio.”

Evie gasped and looked at him in complete shock. He was finally taking her to the studio? She’d dreamed of visiting there for two months!

“My manager’s been asking about you,” he explained as they stomped up the steps, “she wants to meet my little muse.”

First cookie and now muse? Was Peter intentionally trying to hold Evie’s heart in his hands? Did he ever understand how unfair she was actually being?

The smirk on Peter’s face as he pushed open the studio door told Evie he did, in fact, know exactly what he was doing.

Now she just needed to decide if she wanted to kick him or kiss him.

*******************************************************************************************

Evie hadn’t wanted to commit murder in a long time. Normally she was super cool with handling sexist or rude remarks from men, but this time, her emotions bubbled to the top of the surface.

She’d been working on the sports section of the newspaper when the ink slipped right out of her hand and smashed onto the floor. A moment that Evie no longer found truly embarrassing. She’d done it and seen it way too many times.

Her manager had been working with another employee at the time but when he heard the crash, he spun away and caught Evie’s eye.

“That’s alright, Evie. Just clean it up and try again.”

Evie gave her manager a thumbs up and trotted away to grab some paper towel. Her manager was the nicest guy in the world. She’d found out that he, too, had read the poetry book she’d published at twelve. He’d complimented her on her writing skills at such a young age.

“Not every one can write like that so young, Evie,” he’d told her.

As Evie cleaned up the spill, she overheard a coworker--James-- who’d always had an issue with her speak to the manager.

“How many times has she spilled ink, boss? That ain’t a good look for her.”

The manager shot James a look and warned him to get back to his job.

“She’s one of the hardest workers here, James. Everyone messes up once in a while.”

James rolled his eyes as Evie walked away to toss the paper towel into the trash.

“She doesn’t even belong here, boss. She should be in the kitchen making us some food. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Evie’s body trembled as tears stung at her eyes. She’d known James was a jerk but to say a comment like that? He was far more sexist than she’d believed.

“How about you shut your fucking mouth, James? If I made you a sandwich, I’d sure as hell make sure there were ink stains on it!”

Then, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the building. The manager never even stopped her. He was too busy ripping James a new one.

Evie kept on walking, ignoring the cold, ignoring the snow, ignoring the fact that in her hurry, she’d forgotten her coat. Anger traveled through every inch of her veins and her blood ran between hot and cold. Her teeth clattered from the harsh wind but Evie barely noticed.

She just kept walking until she reached a familiar front door. She banged three hard knocks on it and took in huge gasps of air to control her breath. Her eyes were so full of tears she couldn’t see.

“Cookie?”

Warm arms wrapped around Evie and lead her inside. A thick blanket was placed around her shoulders and someone pulled her into their lap.

“Hey, cookie, what happened?”

Evie looked up at Peter as her lower lip trembled again.

“My coworker! He’s awful! Just so sexist! H-he made a comment at me and n-normally I’m okay b-but this one just really got to me.”

The entire story tumbled out of Evie like waves upon waves of a dam finally breaking. She clung tighter to Peter with every single word she spoke and by the time she was finished speaking, her head was buried into his shoulder to try and muffle her sobs.

Careful hands stroked through the waves of her thick hair and kind lips pressed against the top of her head. Evie had never felt this exhausted from her emotions her entire life.

“He’ll get what’s coming to him, believe me, cookie.”

Evie pulled her head off her shoulder to stare into his eyes. She must’ve looked like an awful mess but the light in Peter’s eyes and the lines softening the corners of his mouth told a different story.

She reached up her hands, wrapped around the oversized sweater she’d been given sometime during her breakdown, and shakily cupped Peter’s cheeks. This boy was more than just a guitarist: he was an artist in every sense of the word. Although the songs had no words, his melodies hit Evie in the soul right where a piece of her was missing.

If he had been missing the words of a true poet, than she’d been missing the plucking of the strings of an old guitar with dents and scratches carved into the wood. The dents and scratches telling a story that would outlast even the oldest of songs.

“You finish that melody yet, Pete,” she murmured, lowering her head to touch Peter’s forehead with her own.

Peter gasped quietly as her skin touched his. His guitar-worn hands carefully slid along her back before coming to rest on her hips. In front of him sat the most marvelous, beautiful, and exquisite masterpiece he’d ever seen or heard.

Her little poems, those words flowing endlessly through pen or her own divine lips, were the lyrics his heart had been missing.

“No, cookie,” he whispered back, his lips almost touching hers.

Evie brushed her nose against his and giggled at the nose scrunch that followed.

“The Poet and The Beat,” she whispered before her lips connected with his.

Peter didn’t need any further information to understand what her words meant. They, together, poet and guitarist, created one word where sound and lyrics collided. That was to be their moniker, their brand, their way of life. The Poet and The Guitarist together as one.

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blueathens · 2 years

Text

Peter Parker

Attention: Requests are Closed.

M A S T E R L I S T

“Yeah, we met. Stole his shield.”

B L U R B S

-Coming Soon-

I M A G I N E S

-Coming Soon-

Love, Taylor - Fics Inspired By Taylor Swift Songs.

Writing Rule||Character List||Navigation||Masterlist

#peter parker #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfics #peter parker blurbs #masterlist #marvel masterlist #peter parker masterlist #peter parker oneshot #peter parker one shots #tom holland #tom holland imagine #blueathensfics

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kurogxrix · 5 months

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me when the READER in the X READER has a name:

like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁

#bucky barnes x reader #peter parker x reader #bruce wayne x reader #din djarin x reader #steve harrington x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #joel miller x reader #writing #fan fiction #fanfic #authors of tumblr #kurogxrix talks

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bethsvrse · 4 months

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me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???

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c1nnam00n · 1 month

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me seeing that my fav character barely/doesn’t have any fanfics OR imagines

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catastrxblues · 11 months

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i love ao3 but tumblr fanfics just hit different 😩😩

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corinthianism · 6 months

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corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

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waitimcomingtoo · 8 days

Text

Smell Ya Later

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: you get a new body cream that allegedly attracts spiders, and someone else

Masterlist

Whenever you needed a some space from your everyday routines, you packed up your stuff and spent the weekend in your room at the Stark Tower. You had spent the day shopping and picked up a few self care items, including a new body cream you had seen online. Once night had fallen and you felt you had shopped enough, you retreated back to your room and sat at your desk to look at the things you had bought.

“Let’s see how you smell.” You said as you twisted the cap off the body cream. You had barely raised the jar to your nose when Peter appeared the doorway of your room.

“Hey.” He greeted.

“Jeez. You scared me. I didn’t know you were here tonight.” You laughed and put your hand over your pounding heart.

“Yeah, I’m spending the weekend here to give my aunt some time with her boyfriend. But, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I was walking by and wanted to come say hi.” He laughed shyly.

“Oh. Well, hi.” You smiled and gave him a little wave.

“Mm. Something smells really good in here.” Peter sniffed the air as he walked into your room. You were pretty sure this was the first tike Peter was actually in your room and that made you gulp.

“Really? I don’t smell anything.”

“Maybe it’s just the air. Girls rooms always smell good.” He shrugged.

“Are you in a lot of girls rooms?” You asked teasingly but were dying to know the answer.

“No.” He chuckled. “But I remember from going over to girls houses for group projects and stuff in middle school. Plus, Natasha’s and Wanda’s room always smells good when I walk by. Not that I go around sniffing everyone’s rooms.”

“I’m starting to think you might.” You mumbled out of the corner of your mouth.

“I don’t, I swear. Did you just go shopping?” He laughed and leaned against your desk. You sucked in a sharp breath over the close proximity and nodded your head.

“I did. But I didn’t get anything exciting.”

“What do you mean? This looks very exciting. What is this?” Peter asked as he held up a fluffy headband with a large bow at the front.

“A headband to keep my hair out of my face when I wash it.”

“Oh. I thought it was a giant scrunchie. Or a really small tube top.” Peter pursed his lips as he turned the headband over in his hands to try and understand it.

“No. Neither.” You laughed shyly as you watched him touch your things.

“What’s this thing?” He asked and held up your heartless curls rod.

“It’s for heartless curls.” You replied, making Peter look at you in confusion.

“You know. Curling your hair. With no heat.”

“This tiny pool noodle curls your hair?” Peter asked in disbelief and held up the limp rod.

“Yes. You wrap it around this and sleep in it. Then you wake up with curly hair.” You explained and wrapped a strand of your hair around it to demonstrate.

“Okay. I’m getting closer to understanding. What role does this thing play in all of that that?” Peter asked as he picked up a claw clip from your desk and opened it a few times.

“You use this to clip the rod onto your head while you wrap your hair.” You informed him.

“Wow. Sometimes I feel like girls live in an entirely different secret world than boys. Like, I just put water in my hair and say I’m ready. But you guys have all these fun fancy contraptions.” He smiled as he played with a scrunchie on your desk.

“Yeah. I guess it is kinda fun.” You shrugged as you looked at all the silly contraptions laid out in your desk.

“Woah. What’s this thing?” Peter gasped and picked up your jade roller that was still in the package.

“It’s called a jade roller.”

“You’re gonna have to explain.” He said and looked to you for help.

“I haven’t tried it yet but basically you put it in the refrigerator and then roll it on your face to decrease puffiness in the morning.” You explained as you took it out of the box.

“And it works?”

“I don’t know. But it feels good.” You shrugged and rolled it up and down your cheek.

“I can’t imagine that medieval looking thing feeling good.” Peter mumbled.

“It does. Come here.” You beckoned him with your finger and he leaned down closer to your face. You smiled timidly at him as you rolled it up and down his face.

“See? It feels nice, right?” You asked in a soft voice.

“I’ve never experienced this feeling before.” Peter said and closed his eyes peacefully.

“You should get one.” You chuckled and rolled it on his forehead.

“I don’t know. Mr. Stark already made fun of me for my Lana Del Ray poster. If he sees this in my room he might think I’m a little weirdo.”

“Who cares what he thinks? He has a “nail girl” for his weekly manicures and pedicures. And I think it’s attractive when a guy cares about his hygiene. Which says a lot about my standards now that I say that out loud.” You realized and thought about that for a minute.

“Maybe I will get one then. Because I care about my hygiene. A lot. More than the other guys you know, I bet.” Peter bragged, making you laugh.

“I would not have a hard time believing that.” You answered honestly.

“Why do you need all this stuff anyway? You’re so pretty.” Peter asked as he gestured to all the things on your desk. Guy cracked a smile at his casual compliment but didn’t make a big deal out of it.

“It guess it’s like you said. It’s fun. I like using these things when I’m having quiet time by myself.”

“I like that. That’s something new I just learned about you. I also didn’t know your last name until right now.” Peter tapped a school paper on your desk that said your full name. You laughed as he stood up and headed towards your door. The moment was ending but it was the first time you really talked to Peter one on one in that way so you still took it as a win.

“Seriously. Something smells really good in here.” He said from your doorway.

“I think I smell it too now. Maybe somethings in the air.” You smiled shyly.

“Must be.” He smirked. “Goodnight, L/n.”

“Goodnight, Parker.” You called after him. Once he was gone, you stayed looking at the doorway with a starstruck smile on your face. You didn’t know what prompted Peter to talk to you all of the sudden but you were thankful to whatever it was.

The next day, you went downstairs for breakfast and found Natasha and Wanda in the kitchen. You stopped to talk to them for a minute as you finished rubbing your body cream onto your elbows.

“Ooo. You smell good. What is that?” Natasha asked you.

“It’s a body cream from that brand Sol De Janeiro. I’ve never used it before but it had good reviews.” You told her as you smelled your wrist to catch the scent again.

“Wow. It’s really nice.” She sniffed you again. “You smell like how Moana feels to watch.”

“Thank you.” You smiled. “But when did you watch Moana?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of luxury sunblock or every flower scented candle at Yankee Candle at once.” Wanda added.

“That description also works, thank you.” You nodded in agreement.

“That reminds me.” Natasha began. “I need to get a new perfume. I’ve become totally nose blind to mine and I can never tell-“

“Hey guys. Mmm. Something smells good. What is that?” Peter burst into the room suddenly full of energy while loudly sniffing the air. You smiled and waved at him and he immediately went over to you.

“It’s this one.” Wanda said and pointed to you. Peter put his hand on your back and stepped closer to you to taken whiff.

“Oh, yeah. It is you. You smell amazing.” He told you.

“Oh, thank you.” You laughed shyly. “It’s just my body cream.”

“God damn. It smells so good.” Peter gushed. “I’ve never smelled anything like that. What’s it called?”

“Um, I’m not sure. I could find out and tell you, though.” You offered.

“Yeah, sure. I probably wouldn’t use it because it smells like a woman angel that turned into a vanilla bean but I wouldn’t keep a jar around just to sniff. It smells amazing.” He insisted and moved close to you to inhale again.

“So you’ve said.” Natasha snorted and gave you a look. You gave her a confused look as Peter put his hands on your hips and nose right on your shoulder to smell you.

“Sorry. I just really love that scent. It makes me feel like that scene in Ratatouille.” Peter said.

“What scene?” You looked over your shoulder to ask him and tried not to scream over how he was holding you.

“When that guy eats the ratatouille.” He said simply. “Holy shit, L/n. You smell like a flower that was dipped in crystallized sugar and then rolled in fairy dust. I could smell you all day.”

Just then, Tony walked by and saw how close Peter was to you. He frowned when he heard Peter sniffing loudly and rolled up the magazine in his hand.

“Down boy. Bad. Off of her.” Tony said as he smacked Peter with the magazine.

“But she smells so good.” Peter whined.

“No. Bad. Bad boy.” Tony shook his head and continued hitting Peter with the magazine.

“Fine.” Peter grumbled. “Bye.”

“Bye.” You waved to him as he left the room. Once you were alone with the girls again, they looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“What?” You wondered.

“How long has that been going on?” Wanda asked you.

“How long has what been going on?”

“You and Peter.” Natasha replied.

“What? There’s nothing going on between me and Peter.” You forced a laugh and looked to the side.

“Well he clearly wants there to be something. I have not seen a boy that down bad since high school. Wait, how old are you guys again? 14?” Wanda asked.

“22.” You corrected. “And Peter is not down bad for me. I’m pretty sure he likes this girl from his school.”

“What’s her name?” Natasha asked.

“Liz.” You answered immediately. “I mean, I don’t know. Who cares?”

“Oh, so the crush is mutual?” Wanda nodded in understating.

“No. Nothing is mutual.” You scoffed. “This isn’t liberty.”

“Oh, you have it so bad.” Natasha laughed at how flustered you were getting.

“Nuh uh. Maybe you like Peter and you’re trying to deflect. Ever think about that?” You asked her.

“Right. I like a middle schooler who cries to Lana Del Ray on weeknights.” She answered sarcastically.

“She has very moving music.” You defended him.

“I think it’s cute that you guys like each other.” Wanda said. “And it makes total sense for you to be together. You’re the same age and have a similar lifestyle. Why not tell him how you feel?”

“Because I don’t like him.” You insisted. “And he doesn’t like me.”

“If he doesn’t like you then why was he just using you like a scratch and sniff?” Natasha raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe he just likes to sniff things.” You shrugged. “Maybe that’s his thing.”

“Or maybe you’re his thing.” Natasha replied.

“Do you really think he likes me?” You asked them hopefully.

“I always kinda thought he did.” Wanda admitted. “And After that disturbing encounter, there’s no doubt in my mind. He’s definitely into you.”

“Hm.” You hummed and thought about it. You’d always had a secret crush on him and he had no idea so maybe it was possible that he felt the same way about you without you ever realizing.

You spent the day thinking about what the girls had said. Your thinking was interrupted when Peter returned to your room that night and took a whiff of the air.

“Mm. Smells good in here.” He noted.

“I have a candle on. I mean, lit.” You corrected yourself and pointed to your candle.

“Don’t knock it over and burn your room down. That happened to Brittany Spears, you know.”

“Oh, I know.” You insisted. “I watch all the videos of her spinning in her living room.”

“Same.” He laughed. “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing. Why?”

“I was gonna go grab food. Would you want to-“

“Yes.” You said immediately. You felt embarrassed for answering so fast but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

“Cool. Let’s go.” He said and nodded towards the door.

Thirty minutes later, you were sitting on a bench outside of Delmar’s with sandwiches and bottles of ice tea. Peter picked the place and you followed his lead when ordering because he seemed like a regular.

“And why is it flat?” You asked him as he held up his squished sandwich.

“Because it tastes better the flatter it is, duh. Try it.” He insisted and gestured to your squished sandwich. You gave him a skeptical look before giving it a bite.

“Okay. You might be on to something.” You admitted once you had swallowed.

“Thank you. Every few years my brain lets me have one good idea.” Peter said as he happily chewed his sandwich.

“What was the good idea before this one?”

“Chips in my sandwich.”

“I see. And are these ideas always sandwich related?” You chuckled.

“Wait.” He gasped. “Yeah. They are.”

“Maybe it’s a sign. Maybe you’re a natural born sandwich maker.” You shrugged.

“Maybe I’m Jersey Mike.” He gasped even louder, making you laugh. People were looking but you were too excited to be there with him to care.

“I was gonna say you’re Jared from Subway but I think he’s a pedophile or something.” You told him.

“What? No way.” Peter scoffed and pulled out his phone to google it.

“Oh damn. You’re right.” He realized. “Wow. Even Jared from Subway is a bad guy? Is no one safe?”.

“I mean, you could really say any male celebrities name and there’s like a 50% chance he has charges against him.” You shrugged.

“That’s so true. My record is clean, by the way.” Peter told you. “Until my identity gets revealed. Then I’m looking at a lifetime of property damages and breaking and entering charges.”

“Oh, for me too. I have trespassed more times than I’ve actually been invited somewhere.” You answered. Peter laughed and then looked at you fondly for a minute. You grew self conscious under his gaze and nervously cleared your throat.

“I’m sorry. I keep getting distracted by your perfume.” He admitted. “I can’t get over how good it smells. You smell like the freaking sugarplum fairy.”

“Thank you. You smell good too.” You complicated and nudged him a little.

“That’s because I stole some of Mr. Starks super expensive cologne before we left. He called me to his room once just to show me the price tag on it. I thought it was his social security number at first. And the bottle is so small. I thought it was stupid to spend so much on such a tiny bottle but now that I’m wearing it I feel like I really want to fire someone.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever felt that feeling.”

“Me either. Until today. I smell like a whole different tax bracket right now and I don’t know if I can go back to my Axe Dark Temptation spray. I don’t want to smell like the bourgeois anymore.”

“Thats so funny.” You chuckled. “Do you always take his cologne?”

“Never. Just for today because I knew I was gonna ask you to hang out.” He said before taking a bite. You paused and sat with the implication that he did something just to impress you.

“I’m flattered to know you stole for me.” You said with a coy smile.

“Well you always smell amazing so I didn’t want you to think you were hanging out with some stinky rat.” Peter explained.

“I would never say that about you. I must say, you’re the best smelling rat I’ve been around.”

“Since we live in New York, I’m taking that as a compliment and letting it inflate my ego.” Peter warned you.

“Your ego must be pretty big already though, right? If I was a guy your age who looked like you did and could do the things you can do, I’d be super annoying about it. Like, raise my hand in class using two fingers and ask a question that’s just a roundabout way to show off how intelligent I am kind of annoying.”

“Looks like me? Can you elaborate on that, please, miss?” He asked with a cheeky smile.

“You know.” You rolled your eyes playfully. “Giant muscles. Giant brown eyes. I don’t know much about spiders but giant something else, I’m guessing. That spider bite served you well.”

“Stop. I’m shy.” Peter laughed and covered his face with his hands

“Come on.” You groaned. “You have to know you’re cute.”

“My aunt says I’m a handsome little lad.” He said and batted his eyelashes to make you laugh.

“She’s right.” You laughed. “But seriously. If my arms looked like that I’d only wear tight white shirts and ridiculously skinny jeans. And obviously slick my hair back like a Greaser. A full Soda Pop Curtis, if you will.”

“Oh, so you’re an Outsiders fan? This is me trying to maintain a regular conversation while hoping my heart rate returns to normal after being bombarded with compliments, by the way.” Peter said with a rosy blush on his face.

“I love The Outsiders. I’m still chasing the high I felt when my teacher played the movie for us in 5th grade and Soda Pop came out of the shower in the beginning. I think all the girls in that room remember that moment. I haven’t felt that way since.”

“Really? Never?”

“Maybe once or twice.” You smiled fondly at him.

“Well, to answer your question, I am actually a total loser at school and have an ego the size of a walnut. No one knows I can do the things I can do so I’m just another goofy goober on campus.”

“How can you saw you’re a goober when you’ve probably saved the life of every person in your school? More than once I might add.”

“Because I didn’t do that stuff. Spiderman did.” He explained. “When I’m on campus, I’m just me. It’s the only way to protect my identity. I have to let all the credit go to someone else.”

“Okay, I get not taking credit to remain humble and anonymous and what not, but what about all the other cool stuff you can do? I’ve seen you move a refrigerator with ease and casually run a mile without breaking a sweat. How do you resist the urge to show off all the time?”

“Because I wasn’t some sports star before I was bitten so it would be highly suspicious if I showed up one day and started dunking on everyone and breaking their ankles and third sports term. I only want to use my abilities to help people. Not to get popular.” He shrugged. As he spoke, you felt your crush on him turned into full blown infactuation. You’d always liked him from afar but now that you were getting to know him, he was even better than you thought.

“You’re better than me. I’d be doing backflips down the hallway and climbing on the walls. And if I got in trouble, I’d just be like “remember when New York wasn’t taken over by aliens? You’re welcome, bitch.” And then I’d swing away and probably kiss a cheerleader. Maybe even two.” You told him.

“Uh uh. My powers have definitely not gotten me any kisses from cheerleaders.” He laughed and shook his head.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend or anything?” You asked and couldn’t help but smile.

“No. My roster is empty. And I wish I could blame that on the Spiderman stuff but I can’t. I’ve never been lucky in that department.”

“I don’t understand that. You’re so…” You trailed off when you realized you were about to say too much. Peter looked at you with a coy smile and raised his eyebrows.

“So?” He asked.

“So annoying.” You insisted. “And ugly, actually.”

Luckily, he understood that you were saying the opposite of what you meant and smiled in appreciation.

“What about you? You must have a boyfriend and 10 guys lined up ready to take his place the second he falters, right?”

“11 guys.” You corrected.

“Damn. I’m sorry. I should’ve known.” He said and held up his hands in defense.

“It’s okay. How could you have known? But, um, no. No boyfriend.” You told him and watched carefully for a reaction.

“So you don’t like anyone at your school?”

“Not at school, no.”

“Oh. So there is someone.” He smirked.

“There may or may not be a boy. But he likes someone else so it doesn’t even matter.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

“Does he know you like him?” Peter asked. Your knees and elbows were touching as you sat together on that bench. You couldn’t help but notice he had gotten closer and closer as you talked.

“No.” You replied as you stared into Peter’s eyes.

“That’s obviously why he likes someone else.” Peter insisted. “I guarantee that if he knew he had a chance with you, he’d forget all about that other girl.”

“I don’t know. Do you really think that?” You asked skeptically.

“Definitely. He’d be crazy not to go for someone so…” He trailed off to give you a taste of your own medicine.

“So?” You shook his arm to urge him to continue.

“Ugly.” He replied. “Really, really ugly. Not pretty at all. Definitely not funny or charming. And a stinky rat. And ugly, if I didn’t mention that before. Ghoul like, even.”

“Thank you.” You smiled warmly, knowing he meant the opposite of what he was saying.

“You’re very welcome.” He smiled back. “So when are we doing this again?”

You did it again the next night, this time at a food truck you liked, and then a few days after that. That’s when Peter started giving you his weekends. You started hanging out more and more and grew to be close friends in just a short time. You lived at home during the week and could look forward to Peter’s almost nightly visits while he was on parol just to sit in your window and talk to you. He was so so consistent that you started leaving your bedroom door open just for him.

“I’m here. Don’t be naked.” Peter said as he climbed through your window one evening.

“I just got out of the shower. What if I was naked? Then what?” You asked as you rubbed your body cream into your skin.

“Then we’d have a funny story to tell at parties.” He said as he pulled his mask off. You couldn’t help but smile at the way his messy curls stood up on his head.

“Oh yeah? And what’s so funny about me being naked?” You teased him as you squeezed the excess water out of your hair with a towel.

“That’s not the funny part. The funny part would have been when my eyes sprang out from my head on slinkies and made an audible “boing-oing-oing” sound. Right before my head exploded and left a smoking stump on my neck.” Peter told you, making you playfully roll your eyes.

“Oh wow. Very Tom and Jerry of you.” You chuckled.

“A full Tom and Jerry. The only thing missing would be the little blue birds and or angles flying around my head but I didn’t say that one because it’s typically reserved for traumatic head injuries.”

“You’re stupid.” You laughed and shook your head endearingly at him. Peter smiled back at you

“You’re stupid.” He chuckled. “You smell good.”

You really liked being friends with Peter. The more time you spent with Peter, the more you found you could talk to him about anything. He seemed so interested in every little thing you said. You worried your crush suddenly taking an extreme interest in you might be too good to be true, so you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. And do far, it had lasted two months.

“Hey you two. Are you gonna be hungry…” Tony trailed off when he assessed the situation in front of him. You and Peter turned your heads when you heard Peter’s bedroom door open, giving Tony a full view of the green face masks you had covering your faces. You were sitting on Peter’s bed and applying masks to each others faces so your hands were full of the green goop as well. Tony looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute but eyes kept returning to the giant pink bow headband Peter had on to hold his hair back.

“Oh.” Tony nodded. “Hm. Okay.”

“Hi Mr. Stark.” Peter waved.

“I was gonna ask if you guys were hungry. But now I don’t know how to feel.” Tony said with a blank expression.

“We’re okay. We door dashed some food. Thank you, though.” You replied.

“No problem. Try not to have too much fun, ladies.” Tony snickered and closed the door.

“He doesn’t get us.” Peter rolled his eyes and smeared some of the face mask across your forehead. You smiled at the mention of “us” and stared into his eyes.

“He wishes he was gonna have clarified skin and minimized pores in 45 minutes.” You agreed.

“45 minutes? Oh shit. We should’ve brought snacks.”

“I can go grab some. I need to pee anyway.” You told him and hoped off his bed. You hit up the kitchen after the bathroom and raised the refrigerator for some snacks. When you shut the refrigerator door, Natasha was standing there watching you.

“So. Having another stay at home date with Peter?” She asked and pointed to your face mask.

“It’s not a date.” You rolled your eyes. “We’re just two friends hanging out.”

“Right. And do you share clothes with all of your friends or just the ones you don’t have feelings for?” She asked sarcastically.

“He wasn’t wearing my pants that day, okay?” You sighed. “He just asked me to embroider little molecules into his jeans and then wanted me to sign my name. Which is very normal for two friends to do.”

“So that’s not his sweatshirt you have on now?” Natasha asked and pointed to the Museum of Natural History hoodie you had on.

“It is. But-“

“But. Mm hm, yeah?” She cut you off with sarcastic interest in her voice.

“Yes, but.” You stated. “It’s too small on him now that the bite made him all big and muscly. But his uncle bought it for him and it was too sentimental to throw away so he let me have it.”

“Oh. So he gave you an article of clothing that his dead uncle gave to him? That’s very platonic of him.” Natasha said before cracking a smile.

“I don’t know what you’re implying.” You played dumb.

“I’m implying that you two are dating but pretending you’re not.”

“What?” You forced a laugh. “We are not dating.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re not fooling anyone with that. Why don’t you just call a spade a spade and make out already?”

“Because it’s not a spade. Your mom’s a spade. We’re just friends.” You insisted and felt glad your face mask was covering up your embarrassed blush.

You went back to Peter’s room with the snacks and pushed Natasha’s comments from your mind. Peter could tell that something was bothering but he didn’t push it.

You spent the next few nights at home but headed back to the tower to spend the weekend. You knew Peter would be arriving later that night so you got ready in your room while you waited. You scrolled on your phone while you did your makeup and came across an article on the body cream you’d been wearing lately. You started to read it but got distracted by the sound of people in the downstairs. You left your room and took the elevator down to see if it was Peter, but found Wanda and Natasha instead.

“Oh, hey. I was just telling Nat I got that cream you told us about. It just smelled so good on you.” Wanda told you.

“Did you? Tell me what you think of it. It works really well but I think I have to stop wearing it. I was just reading online that apparently it attracts….” You trailed off and pulled out your phone to show Wanda the article. You got distracted by a text from Peter telling you that he had arrived. You furrowed your eyebrows and stared at the text as things started to make sense in your head.

“Attracts what?” Wanda asked you. You looked up to answer her but got distracted by Peter walking in.

“Spiders.” You told her as you stared at Peter.

“Hey, Y/n.” Peter greeted with a smile. “Come with me up to the roof. I have something to show you.”

Peter took your hand and started pulling you towards the elevators. You were still lost in thought but regained composure enough to look at the girls while you were being pulled away.

When you got to the roof, the sun was just beginning to sink into the city skyline, making for a peaceful atmosphere. There were some snacks set out and a sheet you recognized from Peter’s room.

“What’s this?” You turned to him to ask. He was already staring at you and watching carefully for a reaction.

“You said you’d been so busy with homework lately that you don’t even realize when it becomes night so I thought we could take a mental break together and watch the sunset.” Peter explained with a sheepish smile. You lit up when you heard his plan and forgot all about the article.

“You planned this for me?”

“I didn’t want you to work yourself to death. You’re gonna do fine on your finals. You’re the smartest person I know. Other than, like, the two super genius’s I know. But you’re definitely up there.” He assured you. You broke into a smile and threw your arms around him to thank him. He stumbled back a little a before wrapping his arms around you and hugging you back.

“Thanks, Peter. This is really sweet.” You said and pulled away just enough to look at him. You stayed with your arms wrapped around each other as the sun began to set around you.

“You’re very welcome.” He said with a fond smile. You stared into his eyes and felt his magnetic force pulling you towards him. Peter’s eyes dropped down to your lips before a rosy blush covered his face. You couldn’t believe what was about to happen was actually happening. He started to lean in and cracked a smile just before your lips could touch.

“God, you smell amazing.” He whispered to you. You snapped out of your trance and took a step back from him.

“Oh my God.” You gasped. “I knew it.”

“Wait, what? Knew what?” Peter forced a laugh and tried not to look as disappointed as he felt that the moment had ended.

“You don’t even like me. You’re just attracted to my delicious smelling body cream!” You shouted and pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“Woah, what? I have been accused of so many things but that is truly a first.” Peter said and held up his hands in defense.

“I bet this whole thing was a set up just so that you could sniff me!” You gasped and pointed his picnic.

“What are you even talking about?” He matched your tone and pulled his hair in exasperation. You put your hand over your heart to catch your breath as you looked between him and his setup. Everything made sense now. Peter started talking to you the moment you opened up that jar of body cream. He only wanted to hang out with you once you started wearing it. And as you stood there on the roof with him and realized it never had anything to do with you, you felt gutted.

“I thought…I thought you liked me.” You said in a quiet voice as your face sank with disappointment. Peter turned red all the way to his ears and laughed in embarrassment.

“I do like you.” He said quietly.

“But not for me.” You shook your head. “For the way I smell.”

“What? That’s crazy?” He laughed is dismissal. You rolled up your sleeves and walked back over to him to hold your arm under his nose.

“You like this.” You told him.

“Damn, that smells good.” Peter whispered as he took in your scent.

“See? It’s my body cream. It attracts spider. Whatever is lingering in your DNA from the bite makes you attracted to this specific scent.” You grumbled as you pushed your sleeves back down.

“Huh. That explains why I got a boner in Sephora the other day.” He realized.

“Why were you in Sephora?”

“I was getting us more face masks. I even used your email so you could get the points.”

“You did?” You asked and cracked a smile. Peter looked at you sympathetically and took a step towards you.

“I had a whole night planned for us. I was gonna bring you up here to watch the sunset. And I brought snacks you like. Even disgusting Salt and Vinegar chips.”

“I love those.”

“I know you do, for some odd reason. And once the sun had set, I was gonna go downstairs with you to do the face makes. I got you a panda because you like them and mine looks like Hello Kitty, see?” Peter said and he pulled the masks out of his bag.

“Very impressive selection.”

“I know. Once we had them on, I was gonna tell you that you’re the only person I don’t feel like I need to wear a mask with. Or you’re the only person who makes me feel the way I do when I’m wearing my mask. In parenthesis, my Spiderman mask. Which implies you make me feel invincible. I don’t know. It was gonan be some mask related metaphor that I was hoping would come to me in the moment.”

“Why did you need a mask related metaphor?”

“So I could ease the tension and segway into telling you that I like you.” He admitted with a timid smile.

“You do?” You asked skeptically. Peter nodded his head and put his hands on your shoulders.

“I wouldn’t do all this for you just because I liked the way you smell. And believe me, I love the way you smell. If I could shrink you down using the Honey I Shrunk the Kids machine and shove you up my nose, I would. But I like a million other things about you too that don’t involve the olfactory bulb.”

“Then how come we only started hanging out once I started using the body cream?”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I got a whiff of the body cream and basically floating in the air down the hallway into your room like a cartoon pig being lead to a pie.” Peter prefaced. “But that was just the first time you wore it. It gave me the confidence to ask you to hang out which is something I’d been wanting to do since we met. And once we started hanging out and I learned all these new things about you, I liked you even more. Which I didn’t know was possible because I was already listening to Lana Del Ray and pretending you wrote the songs about me. When you started smelling divine, that was just the icing on an already big cake. I’m talking Cake Boss level size cake that’s mostly made of Rice Krispies and plastic tubes.”

“So now I’m divine? I thought I was ugly and not funny or charming at all.” You teased him as you stepped even closer.

“You’re right. I still find you very unattractive and don’t want to be your boyfriend and l definitely don’t want to kiss you-“

You cut him off by pulling him by the shirt into a kiss. He stopped talking immediately to kiss you back, putting his hands on your face to pull you closer.

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled and pulling you closer by the waist. You giggled against his lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

You and Peter eventually retired to the sheet to watch the rest of the sun set. You laid on his chest and listened to his heart beating while the scent of his cologne filled your nose. You went back downstairs hand in hand once the sky was dark and passed by Wanda in the living room.

“Goodnight, Wanda.” You smiled at her as you and Peter walked by.

“Goodnight.” She replied and waved her fingers. Peter stopped suddenly in his tracks and looked at Wanda.

“Woah.” He smiled. “You smell really good, Wanda. What do you have-“

“Oh, no you don’t.” You cut him off and pulled him by the back of his shirt away from her.

“It’s the cream.” Peter said in defeat. “I’m defenseless to the cream.”

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

@officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker fluff #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x y/n

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percabething · 21 days

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when the fandom is so small that everybody knows everybody

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shawnxstyles · 10 months

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panty stealer 2

DATE: JULY 12, 2023

summary: after the forbidden and surprising night of the ‘break-in’, you couldn’t get your mind off of peter. luckily, he couldn’t either, and finds his way back into your bedroom to invite you to a party.

requested: so many times yes!

words: 11.2k!! woah

warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, slight oral, masturbation, vibrator], praise kink, degrading kink, slight exhibitionism, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, mentions of marjuana/alcohol, and fluff

note: this was the most anticipated and loved of all my writings! i’m so thankful for everyone who liked part 1, i just had to write a part 2. enjoy!!! sorry if the gif is all weird again

—

so many thoughts flew through peter’s mind as he swung through the streets of massachusetts: what homework or projects he might have, you, class, praying flash doesn’t do anything stupid while he’s gone, you, hoping ned doesn’t have a panic attack from flash’s idiocy, and you you you.

he thought of your body and the way it felt underneath him while he pushed himself deep inside of you. and the whimpers you let out as you came. and the sound of your laughter through the palm of your hand. and the smile on your face as he kissed your forehead. he wished he had kissed you longer. he wished he had stayed longer. forever.

was that dramatic? maybe.

you were a recurring thought that never seemed to cease from his brain.

peter sees you around school sometimes—only on the days you two have class together. neither of you made an effort to approach the other, almost as if you expected the other person to do it first. you both sat far apart from each other, too afraid to move seats around and make it obvious. but peter’s gaze fell heavily over your shoulder too many times for you to not feel it.

every time you shifted around to face the back of the room, you watched him avert his wandering eyes to anywhere but you. it made you smile and giggle quietly behind your hand, and of course peter’s hearing picked up on the angelic sounds, causing his heart to skip against his ribs.

and then class would begin and you’d have to wait until next class to see him again.

peter wanted to go see you—talk to you. he really did. but he was so busy with school work and being spider-man that he didn’t have a night off. mid-terms were coming up, but that also meant thanksgiving break was in the rear view mirror. after halloween of course.

in college, halloween was like any other day. you didn’t get a day off to trick-or-treat and hang out with your friends. instead, you were given a pile of tests the week before.

not much of a treat, huh?

outside of college, however, people threw the best parties that night. one of those people obviously being peter. luckily, halloween was on a saturday, so everyone would be done with mid-terms and ready to party their asses off.

flash needed everyone and their mom to come for him to be satisfied (well, maybe not their moms). he’s going to blow up everyone’s phone telling them to invite every person they know. peter didn’t care who showed up. he knows that halloween is one of the biggest parties of the year (besides fourth of july). peter only wanted—no needed—one person to be there.

—

knowing it’s been weeks since he’s seen you and the party was only in a few days, peter had to come and see you. he had to make sure you got the invite. it was difficult to fit visiting you into his schedule, but like always, he made it work.

you were becoming important to him, a priority.

he would only be in and out because who knows what would happen if peter was caught in there? last time, flash got his car hit with a baseball bat. flash was so mad that he completely forgot about peter’s dare, even though it was the whole point of sneaking into the house. it was deserved, but peter didn’t want any of that happening to him. so, peter promised himself no funny business unless you were in his room.

ugh, but peter really didn’t want you around the frat boys. they were way too much.

the sky was pitch black besides the hint of stars that were sprinkled in the sky. it was a chilly, fall night that made peter want to cozy up and pass out in his bed. but he had more important things to do first.

after a boring night of patrol, peter sneaks into his room through his opened window. without making too much noise (unlike flash), he quietly changes out of his suit and packs it into his closet in a box labeled books. peter is certain that no one, especially flash, would ever open that box. so he fixes his appearance by adjusting his shirt in the mirror, checking his teeth, and messing with his wild hair. on impulse, he throws on a cap to better hide himself. with that, he jumps out his window once again, shutting it closed on his way down with his sticky fingers.

like he’s done once before, peter sneaks across the street to the forbidden sorority house. he stares at the windows; all darkened bedrooms, except for one. peter wasn’t one hundred percent sure that that single lit bedroom was yours, but he was willing to test his luck.

for you.

peering at his surroundings, peter flips his hat backwards and slowly crawls up the side of the house. his fingers latch onto the windowsill as he very slowly lifts his head over it. he notices that it’s slightly cracked open before his gaze is seering through the glass.

you have got to be fucking joking.

your body lays sprawled across your bed as a delicate hand wanders between your parted legs and slides your infamous panties to the side. your torso is covered in the same mit t-shirt from that night, draped over your lavish figure tantalizingly. a laptop plays a pornographic scene of some sort, headphones plugged in one ear.

god, he wanted to touch you so bad.

he wondered if you were thinking of him. recalling how his fingers caressed down your body and how they touched every inch of your skin. but you couldn’t be, right? it’s been weeks and peter hasn’t made a move. you’ve probably moved on from that night like nothing happened. peter should probably go, leave you alone during such an intimate time—

“mm, peter,” your angelic voice hums a quiet moan that was only loud enough for peter’s hearing. peter feels his cock twitch needily at your noises, hissing to himself as you whimper his name. “feels so good.”

well, that’s just like a goddamn invite.

using every skill he has learned from being spider-man, peter yanks open the window and creeps inside. you were too emerged in your fantasies; eyes screwed closed as you listened attentively to the ongoing video. you failed to notice peter’s looming presence over your bed, even with only one headphone in. your noises continued, spurring peter’s next actions on.

without saying a word, peter lays his hand over yours, which is rubbing cute circles over your clit. your movements freeze and your eyes fly open. your mind doesn’t register the sight before you, so your breathing stops and your lungs get ready to scream out every millimeter of oxygen in you. but peter slips his other hand over your mouth before you could alert the entire neighborhood of his presence.

peter could sense the erratic beating of your heart as your tense muscles very gradually soften once you realize it’s him. once you’ve calmed down enough to not scream, you take your free hand and lower peter’s from your mouth.

he came back.

“p-peter, i didn't know you were coming,” you weren't sure what to say. your mind was still spinning like a top toy and your heart was beating like a galloping horse. your skin was burning underneath him, full of embarrassment and immense desire. “a head’s up would have been nice…”

“i’m sorry for the interruption…” peter says, eyes dragging down your body. his hand moves above yours gradually. you inhale sharply as peter guides your hand.

“you don’t seem sorry,” you retaliate as the friction from your hand with the help of peter’s begins to rile your body up again. you feel the wetness seep from your cunt, aching and needy for more. for more of him.

“how come you’re so wet?” peter completely ignores you, and removes your hand from your pussy with a gentle toss. peter didn’t expect anything tonight, but he especially didn’t expect to find his little angel with her hands between her legs. you gasp when his fingers are directly touching you, instantly clenching around nothing. his fingers are a bit chilly, in contrast to your flamy skin. “is it from the video?”

“n-no,” you stutter between needy pants as his fingers threaten to sink into your pulsing hole. your legs spread wider for him, inviting him closer to you. you slam the laptop down with shaky fingers to show him that you no longer need it.

“then what’s got you so wet?” two fingers dip into your cunt to persuade you to talk, but it’s doing the opposite. you bite your lip to hide the traitorous moan that threatens to escape. heavy arousal coats your labia while he pumps in and out of you easily, waiting for an answer.

“i was thinking of you,” you admit, hips rolling into his touch greedily. “wondering if you’d ever come back.”

peter’s heart saddens at the thought of you waiting for him. this whole time peter assumed you forgot about him, when in reality, it was the exact opposite. and there was sticky evidence to prove it.

“i’m right here, angel. what were you thinking about?” his body leans down hovering over yours, causing your body to sink into the mattress.

“thought about you climbing through the window, just like you did. imagined you’d fuck me, like you promised,” you moan quietly between words, trying to sound cohesive. hearing you say such vulgar words has peter’s cock twitching in his pants. with peter, you weren’t afraid to be straight to the point and tell him what you want. peter admired that, and would probably do anything you asked him to.

“with time, i’m a man of my word, baby.”

close and personal, peter interlocks his lips with yours. your frolicking hands drift to his warm neck, caressing the nape as you melt into him. peter inserts a third finger into you, eliciting a muffled moan against his lips. the action opens up your mouth and allows peter to effortlessly glide his tongue inside.

his fingers ram into you at a deliriously fast pace, causing your mind to haze into a euphoric state. it was impressive how peter could be kissing you unforgettably, but also skillfully pleasuring you with his hands. peter seemed like a man full of secrets and skills that you were dying to know.

who is peter parker?

fogging up your mind, your muscles tense and your back continues to arch until your stomach is touching his. your legs threaten to close from the overwhelming pleasure from his fingers, but you battle to keep them wide. his mouth trails down your neck and attacks the sensitive skin below your ear. teeth digging into your lip, you withhold all of your noises that peter so desperately wants to hear.

“if we were alone, you wouldn’t be allowed to be quiet,” he husks in your ear before trailing further down your neck. his voice was every level of attractive, pushing you closer to the edge. peter continued to check off all of your invisible boxes of turn ons.

“i know,” your voice was delicate and strained, and peter could tell you were close.

your walls gripped his fingers eagerly, and your stomach tightened up. it was embarrassing that you were so close so fast, but you couldn’t hold it any longer. once his fingers curled one last time inside of you, you were a goner.

“come for me, baby,” he demanded quietly, so you did.

your orgasm washed over you like a tsunami, drenched in blissful euphoria. peter worked you through your high by softly rubbing your legs and coaxing every last drop out of you until you were sensitive to the touch.

without having to ask, peter lowers himself to your mound and yanks your panties down and off your legs. he then cleans up your mess with his skillful tongue, licking and slurping all of your juices. your sensitivity causes you to be squirmy, but he’s done before you know it and then you’re left reminiscing.

although he was right in front of you, you missed his touch already. you missed him inside of you because it made you feel connected, intertwined. you didn’t want him to leave you again for weeks and come back on a random week day. or even worse, never again at all. you hoped that it didn’t become a pattern because you were getting attached to him, whether you liked it or not (you did), and that wasn’t a healthy pattern to be attached to.

peter’s body hovers over yours once again, held up by his muscular arms. your eyes attach to every detail on his face, admiring and memorizing his features in fear that he’ll leave again. he gazes at you like a living daydream, ethereal underneath him. one of his hands caresses your supple cheek, lightly swiping away your frisky hair. you practically purr into his touch, melting at his gentleness.

“peter,” you start, voice as fragile as thin glass.

“y/n.”

“please, don’t leave,” you insist in a whisper, hoping he’d stay. but you know he can’t.

“you know i can’t,” he says as you begin to sit up. see?

“when will i see you again? you can’t just… show up at any time,” you huff, sitting up straight as peter takes a seat beside you.

“i know i know…” peter thinks for a moment before reaching into his pocket. “here. you can put your number in my phone.”

your heart skips a simple beat. you extend your arm to snatch your phone on your nightstand before hesitatingly grabbing peter’s. you switch devices and enter your numbers. you label your name as ‘y/n :)’ and then you trade back phones, but don’t look at them.

“c’mere,” peter says and you curl your body into his. his warmth was addicting and cozy, and could easily make a great pillow for the future. “i’m sorry for not coming back sooner. i’ve been pretty busy with… everything i guess. i should’ve told you.” with your head cradled in his chest, he kisses your rumpled hair genuinely.

a sweet apology. could he get any better? is he just a figment of my imagination?

you lift up your head so you could see him looking down on you. “apology accepted, parker. but i feel like i’m being manipulated with your kisses.”

“how was i supposed to know you’re a sucker for forehead kisses?”

“everyone is a sucker for forehead kisses!” you whisper yell causing him to laugh wholeheartedly as quiet as possible. he kisses your head a few more times, making your heart full of affection and care.

how did you get lucky enough for peter parker to fall into your life? or more specifically, break into your house on two accounts?

“you never fulfilled your promise,” you said, referring to him having sex with you. don’t misunderstand, you were very grateful for what he gave you, but to be direct… you were greedy, needy, and missed his dick.

no time for beating around the bush.

“like i said, with time, i’m a man of my word,” which, in other words, means he’s not having sex with you. tonight, at least. you can’t help the small frown that appears on your lips.

“how much time? a girl has needs, you know,” you rose your eyebrows and pointed towards the closed laptop. peter puffed under his breath, causing you to smirk.

“there is a party this saturday… at my place. you should come,” peter informs.

“should i come or do you want me to come?” it was a test.

“if this is some sexual innuendo, yes—”

“jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, peter!” you roll your eyes and softly shove his chest, but a smile never ceases from your face. that only causes him to wrap his arms around you and squeeze you harder against his firm body.

he must live at the gym.

“you started talking about sex first!”

he’s not wrong.

“of course, i want you to come to the party, y/n,” peter smiles as his eyes wandering over every inch of your face. in any other scenario, gorging eyes would’ve made you feel insecure, but peter’s made you feel all flushed and tingly. “you’re the only person i want to be there.”

your smile enlarges even more and a rush of heat crawls up your neck. instead of kissing his lips for being such a romantic goofball, you decide to pull off his backward cap and kiss his forehead. the rosy blush that cascades his pale cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed.

“see! everyone likes forehead kisses!”

just as you say those words, peter hears footsteps padding across the hallway. he really didn’t want to leave you again, but he also really didn’t want to get caught. he sighs and you notice his change of demeanor, causing another frown to arise on your lips.

“you have to go, don’t you?”

“i’m sorry—”

“it’s okay. i’m glad you came. i’ll see you on saturday,” you smile genuinely and kiss his forehead again. he smiles, but catches your luscious lips instead. peter almost forgot about the footsteps, always lost in the moment with you.

he is obsessed with kissing you.

however, the moment is too short for both of your liking. peter struggles to pull himself away from you, but does because each footstep in the hallway is like a warning. with a finally kiss to your forehead, peter smiles endearingly before approaching your window, ready to jump out.

“oh, and peter?” as his hands are on the window, he turns around to look at you. “don’t forget these.”

you fling your panties at him and his quick reflexes have no problem catching them. you take his hat that he left on your bed and lay it on top of your head. peter cannot describe the fond feeling that bubbles up in his chest at the sight of you in his apparel. he’s sure he would die seeing you in his clothes if he’s starstruck from you in his cap.

a familiar heated flush blossoms on his cheeks as he lightly shakes his head with a few chuckles.

“you’re ridiculously cute,” is the last thing he says before he slides out the window and jumps down onto the ground.

ridiculously cute. you’ve never been called that before. are you surprised that you like it a lot? nope.

you still don’t understand how he doesn’t break a few limbs from jumping out of a two-story house, but again, that’s just one of the many things he’s skillful at. you wondered what else he was capable of. like you said, he seemed like a man full of secrets. some people thought of curiosity as a curse, but you saw it as a pathway to unknown opportunities.

not even a minute after peter left, there’s a knock at your bedroom door. you answer, skeptical, and one of your friends walks in.

“i know we’re not allowed to have any guys here, so you get kind of lonely, but when you’re watching porn at midnight can you please turn it down? i could hear it at the end of the hall,” she rubs her eyes and elicits a yawn. your eyes widen and you swallow thickly at the idea of the entire house hearing you.

you really thought you did a good job at being quiet…

“uh, yeah, sure thing,” you half smile as you apologize and wish her a better goodnight. you flick your lamp off and shift comfortably on your bed.

you gaze at the ceiling and imagine peter’s face above yours. you envisioned his lips, his cute nose, and each precious beauty mark on his face. it was easier to fall asleep knowing what his phone number was, and that saturday was only three days away.

—

those three days could not have been longer. the party was your motivation to wake up every day and go to class, eager as ever. you only saw peter once at school and that was not enough to satisfy the yearning you had inside of you. that yearning was also like an alarm clock that sprung you out of bed at eight a.m. on saturday.

you knew you had hours to waste, so you did all the things you had been procrastinating on: laundry, tidying up, few assignments due next week, and you even dusted parts of the house. yeah, you were that bored.

you weren’t sure what time the party started, but you would probably be able to tell from your window. you had no idea what you were going to wear even though you were thinking about it since wednesday. you believed you had a good sense of style, at least to your liking, but you don’t have all the clothes that you wish you had. living on a college budget wasn’t easy, but you made do.

at this point, it was only two in the afternoon, and you were about to run into the wall until your head was bleeding just to waste more time. this was the downside to having a ridiculously big crush on someone; the inescapable waiting. when crushing, time seems prolonged when you’re without them. but when you’re with them, the world seems to stop completely. it’s like nothing matters but just you two.

you remembered back to wednesday when peter was sitting on your bed and holding you snug against his body while you talked about such a mundane thing like a party invite. you could never erase the feeling of his kiss, his lips forever etched onto yours. the kiss felt like hours, but it was merely a minute before he had to pull away. you imagined what it would be like to just be with him without worrying about anything else. these daydreams cause the yearning in your chest to expand like a balloon, which is never going to satisfyingly explode until you’re in his arms again.

without making a big deal out of it, you needed a good outfit. so, you knocked on one of your “sister’s” doors. you weren’t a fan of the term “sorority sisters,” especially because none of these girls felt like sisters to you. yes, you were all decent friends who went to parties and went out to eat once a month together. but you weren’t as close to them as you were with your friends back at home. you missed them, but you’ve all moved on with your lives.

violet answers with a cheery come in and you walk into her room. you hint that you’re looking for a nice dress for the party tonight.

“i’m glad you came to me first,” she smiles as she stands up from her bed. she heads toward her closet, which is practically pouring out clothes that would laugh at yours. she had so many colors and choices, it was almost overwhelming and you weren’t even the one really choosing. “so. who’s the guy?”

“what? who said anything about a guy?”

“the fact that you want a nice dress for a frat party. you’ve never cared before, so it has to be a guy. so who is it?”

“it’s no one in particular,” you lie easily as you sit on her bed. she sifts through each dress in deep thought.

“so, you want a nice dress to catch any guy’s attention? i don’t buy it,” violet shakes her head, causing her long, black hair to wave.

not that you really care if she believes you, but what’s a believable lie? you know she’ll probably nag you about it the entire night if you don’t give her a valid excuse.

“if i’m being honest, i’m trying to, you know,” you raise your eyebrows high, motioning your hands as she whips around to face you. she nods as a knowing smirk grows on her lips. you weren’t technically lying–you did want to get laid, but you only had one person in mind that could do the job.

“i see. that’s all you needed to say,” she flips through more dresses before pulling out a short red one that makes your eyes widen. it looked nice, too nice, and you didn’t want to ruin anything she had because you’d probably spend the next few months paying to replace it. “let’s get you ready.”

“but the party is in–”

“nuh uh, we’re getting ready now. also, we’re making it into a costume.”

–

for once, you’re glad you listened to violet about getting ready early because it was already six o’clock by the time you guys were both finished. you somehow gave in to the idea of her dolling you up into some kind of sexy spider woman? you didn’t really know. she thought the red and blue accented your skin nicely. violet did what she wanted. you didn’t even plan on wearing a costume in the first place, so you didn’t really mind.

your hair was down and wavy. you had her short red dress on and white fishnet tights. she also gave you royal blue heels. she painted black webs on your eyes with eyeliner while you wore a matching red lipstick. it was a lot more than you expected to see on yourself when you looked in her vanity mirror. hopefully, the look is as attractive and alluring as violet says it is. meanwhile, violet dressed as “slutty catwoman” (her words, not yours).

and yes, violet was going. everyone at mit would be going. it was one of those annual parties that's been going on for years, even before your class was there.

you enjoyed that; traditions and routines. they created memories and showed the change through each generation. thinking back, you bet your ancestors would die of a heart attack if they saw the way you were dressed and the things people did at these parties. but none of those thoughts stopped you from leaving the sorority house and walking across the street to the frat party.

you hadn’t even walked in yet, and the music was booming throughout the neighborhood. through the blinds that failed to close, you could see the technicolor lights flashing in redirection. cars of every shade were parked for probably miles down the street, and you knew as the night went on the number of people would only increase.

violet walked in front of you, strutting through the door like she owned the place. you followed behind her almost cowardly, but you weren’t really looking for everyone’s attention anyway. just one.

however, you forgot that the whole reason violet believed you were wearing this dress in the first place was for that exact reason. so, when she realized your shyness, she turned around and shook all your nerves out of you. literally. she shook your shoulders until you were woozy and nearly stumbling over your heels (you are now wishing you wore sneakers). it was like you were already tipsy by the time she was done.

she dragged you towards the kitchen without any words, seeming as though you wouldn’t be able to hear them over the blaring music and loud chatter. bottles of liquor decorated the marble countertop along with blue and red solo cups, trashed like a 90’s high school movie. violet grabbed the first bottle she saw, pouring the dark liquid into a cup she somehow snagged.

“your turn,” she shoves the bottle and cup towards your body as a stranger bumps into you from the back. the place was getting packed, making it hard to find anywhere to breathe. “some liquid courage.”

“i’m okay. i will later, though,” you rejected, not liking the idea of being drunk when you had a goal in mind. by the end of the night, you really wanted to be in peter’s bed. but you hated the idea of being drunk while having sex, especially when you wanted to enjoy it. you only indulged in drunk sex when you really needed to get off and one; didn’t want to remember what happened, or second; didn’t want it to last longer than that night. mostly the latter.

you know what it feels like to be with peter, and you craved to feel like that again. just thinking about him made you feel a thousand different kinds of wonderful; heart racing, stomach swirling, core burning. you knew the second you found him it would be hard to keep your hands away.

–

peter finally decides to shuffle down his stairs for the first time tonight. when the roaring music began an hour ago, he knew the party had, too, but he didn’t feel like going down yet. he couldn’t help but peek out his blinds in his bedroom, waiting to see you crossing the street.

he swears he was in his bedroom for at least an hour, occasionally peeking out the window, impatiently waiting for your arrival. with a slight frown on his face, he realizes that you might not be coming.

why would you?

peter assumed that you just now noticed how creepy it was for him to sneak into your bedroom. twice. maybe all your smiles and kisses were just silent pleads to make him leave the room faster. but your laugh seemed so genuine, and the sweet, little noises that you muffled under your palms were from real pleasure. right?

you were moaning his name.

he imagined you strutting across the street in a jaw-dropping dress, one that would send him into a frenzy. but you would be too humble and would shrug it off like you were the most average person on earth. peter would scoff and take you into his arms and drag you up into his room. then he would admire you until you believed you were the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

open mouth kisses etched on your naked body. bites and pinches of tease. your sweet hums and delicately broken moans. nails clawing into his tough skin greedily. his voice guiding and praising you while yours is disheveled in pleasure.

god, he’s so in his head. he’s so far gone. and he barely knows you.

like a daydreaming idiot, he slaps the side of his head a few times to get his brain back into reality. he stares at his appearance in the mirror, silently motivating himself to have a good night whether or not you show up.

taking a deep breath, he finally exits his bedroom. of course, the music is booming and the place is already as crowded as a concert. peter trails down the stairs, but stops midway when he sees the top of your head.

is that you? how did he miss you?

moving swiftly down the steps, he weaves his way through the crowd, his fake glasses nearly slipping down his face. multiple people try to stop and chat with him, but he doesn’t indulge for long, having a clear destination in mind.

but, just when he reaches the kitchen, you’re gone.

he swears he just saw you. maybe he’s going crazy.

releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, peter pushes through a few more bodies before reaching the sliding glass door. he squeezed himself outside and inhales. when you’re in a house full of sweaty, drunk people smoking weed, you become more grateful for the fresh air.

he removes his glasses and tucks them into his neckline. his eyes gaze at the backyard’s minuscule decorations, and then to the sky. he stares at the stars as they wink at him, reassuring that everything will be alright. he wishes that the town won’t need saving tonight and that everyone will be on their best behavior. he hopes that you’ll come to the party, even if it doesn’t end with you in his arms.

even though that’s all he really wants.

“peter?” a voice speaks, and the sound was so elegant and soft that he thought the stars themselves were talking to him. he forces himself to blink a few times before spinning around to face you.

he nearly faints when he sees your costume.

short red dress, white tights, blue heels, black webs. you were dressed as spider-man, or spider girl, and you looked absolutely fucking stunning. you would be the death of peter. seriously, he thinks he might pass out from lust and admiration looking at you. you were just so drop-dead gorgeous, he couldn’t believe it.

maybe the stars were on his side tonight. unless they wanted to kill him…

“are you okay?” your soft voice of concern walks straight up to him, delicate hand resting on his shoulder.

“y-yeah,” peter stutters before coughing. is it surprising that he’s already half hard? a small blush cascades his pale cheeks. “you look… really fucking good.”

there’s no dancing around it.

now, familiar heat warms your neck, cheeks, and ears at his compliment. his voice was low, so only you could hear it over the screaming music, and it was laced with a small growl that had your stomach flipping. your hand fell from his shoulder.

“thanks,” you couldn’t think of what else to say, but then you looked at his outfit, which was little to none. actually, he was wearing normal clothes. peter was probably the only person at the party without a costume. “i guess i had to go all out since you decided not to wear anything. it’s your party and you didn’t think to dress up?”

peter laughs, breaking any invisible tension that might have been there. god, you loved his laugh. it was so childlike and full of joy, that you couldn’t help but smile.

“i have a costume. hold on,” peter puts on his glasses.

“if you say you’re a hot nerd—”

“nuh uh, i’m a super hot nerd,” he then rips the buttons off half of his flannel, presenting the superman symbol on his chest. rolling your eyes, it was your turn to laugh. your hand covers your face at his silliness as you lean against the nearby wall for support.

“you’re such an idiot.”

“i can’t be a nerd and an idiot, angel.”

“somehow, you make it work,” you both chuckle with huge smiles on your faces, unable to look away from each other.

“hey, dickwad,” flash abruptly appears from the sliding glass door that you two were standing by. he was dressed as spider-man, which nearly made peter cry laughing out of irony when he first found out this morning, but he kept that to himself. “—oh, hey, y/n. nice costume! at least someone has taste.”

“superman is a great superhero—”

“whatever, dude. at least spiderman is real!” flash shouts before parading away, repeating the statement to his next victims that will hear him.

“what do you have against spider-man?” you ask, leaning against the rough wall by just your arm. you were too afraid to have the dress touch it, in fear of ripping or ruining it.

“nothing,” peter shrugs.

“oh, c’mon,” you shove at his shoulder playfully. “just say you don’t believe in him. it’s okay.”

“what! of course, i believe in him, he’s not santa claus.”

“oh my god, santa isn’t real?!” you pretend to be shocked, hands slapping your cheeks. peter lightly chuckles and rolls his eyes before nonchalantly grabbing your hand. your heart speeds up in your chest at his simple movement while your breathing halters.

and just like that he’s in control.

“do you want to get a drink?” peter’s thumb plays with the skin of your knuckles while he waits for your answer. but you can’t think of anything right now besides the soft caress being tattooed onto you.

“no, i’m not in the mood to drink tonight,” you replied, hoping that gave peter a hint at how you wanted the night to go. peter wasn’t as stupid as most guys, so you have high hopes that he understood the foreshadow.

“well, what are you in the mood for?” his voice was low again, speckles of lust wavering in it. he takes a step closer to you, and you can’t help but lay flat against the wall. you weren’t even thinking about the condition of the dress anymore. you swallowed as your stomach burned in anticipation.

“somewhere quiet,” your eyes flickered between his darkening eyes and his pink lips.

“it won’t stay quiet as long as you’re there,” a cheeky smile rises up on his lips as heat floods through your body. you hit his shoulder lightly, embarrassment flushing your cheeks.

following him and his contagious smile, peter drags you through the crowds of people. there were more people in the house than when you arrived, but you’re not surprised. the upstairs section of the frat was basically off-limits to most people, unless you really had to go to the bathroom and the downstairs one was taken. you’ve been to the house a few times, but you’ve never stayed long enough to go upstairs.

but tonight everything is different.

unlike your wooden floors, peter’s are carpeted, so you’re walking very carefully on your heels. when you reach the top step, your calves are slightly burning from the exercise.

looking both ways, peter leads you towards his bedroom at the end of the hallway, hands intertwined. it felt secretive, and a part of you liked it. he closes the door right when you got inside, locking it quickly. but while he’s doing so, your hands release from his to explore his room. he rushes to clean his messes books.

peter had a gray and black color scheme that was alluring. his dark gray sheets looked soft and plush, and you could imagine yourself sleeping in them every night. were you getting ahead of yourself? maybe. you barely knew him, but you felt like you’ve known him forever. you glance around his room some more, trying to get to know him.

he had two band posters; led zeppelin and guns n’ roses. you didn’t expect the second one, but it impressed you. his desk was scattered with textbooks and papers like he had just been studying. turning around you see his two-mirror closet. it was slightly ajar, letting you see a few boxes.

“what’s in the boxes?” you ask, slowly creeping your way towards them. you don’t miss peter’s eyes widening slightly and his cheeks heating up. now you have to know.

“n-nothing important,” peter scratches the back of his neck, and if he’s trying to hide something, he’s doing a horrible job at it. on the sides of each box were black handwriting.

“trophies and medals,” you read aloud, inching your way towards the door, “books—”

“y/n, don’t!” peter exclaimed nervously with a hand reaching out to stop you, causing you to turn around and eye his expression. he swallowed thickly, praying you didn’t open the box. his anxiety was at an all time high. “there’s… personal stuff in there.”

“okay, okay. you don’t want anyone to know you have sexy magazines,” you rolled your eyes and huffed out a chuckle. “i get it. i’m not jealous.”

“yeah…” peter’s cheeks don’t cool down, still red and warm. for some reason, he senses the awkward tension arising in the atmosphere around you both, and he doesn’t know how to tame it. you both know what you want now, but it’s hard to bring it up without being so forward.

“did i tell you that you look good in glasses?” you speak after the few seconds of silence. you get yourself comfortable on the edge of his bed, unstrapping your heels from your already sore feet. you groan. “feels so much better.”

“thanks,” peter joins with a never-ending blush, sitting next to you. he’s itching to touch you.

why was it so much easier when he broke in?

he turns to face you and stares at your eye makeup. you had little black webs on the corner of your eyes. for some strange reason, the idea of you dressing up as him really turned him on. even if you didn’t know it was him.

“peter,” you said a bit breathlessly. your heart was racing with anticipation and lust. he hadn’t even noticed you were staring right back at him. you could look at each other for hours, but you really wanted more. needed it. subconsciously, you were both leaning forward towards your lips.

“yeah?” peter’s gaze never faltered. his honey brown eyes darkened to black.

“i brought something for you,” his eyes shifted from your lips to your eyes, curious.

“it’s not even christmas yet,” he smiles, “and what’s that?” you leaned closer to him, your lips hovering over his ear.

“it’s a surprise,” you whispered seductively, grabbing his hand and placing it on your thigh. he doesn’t hesitate to rub the supple skin covered by fishnet, warm and smooth.

when you pull away just the slightest, peter crashes his lips to yours. the kiss was as passionate as your feelings for him, erupting your anticipation and nerves in small gasps. he shifts you over to his lap, so you’re straddling him. instantly, you buck your hips into his crotch, desperate for more than a heated kiss.

your heart is thrashing in your chest and there’s a familiar burn in the lower part of your stomach. your hands roam his brown hair, exploring his locks like it’s new territory. except it’s not. you’ve never felt like you’ve known someone so well without even knowing them that well. the chasing, the waiting, the wanting, the needing, the wondering—it was the strangest feeling, and you were addicted to it.

you pop your lips off of peter, puffy and pink. you both take a second to breathe before you start kissing down his neck. you’re not shy with your teeth, leaving marks on his tough skin that’s shielding layers of muscle.

when you get to his collarbone, you nearly whine because he still has his flannel and shirt on. you swear you’ve never been more horny or desperate in your life.

“relax, sweet girl,” peter reassures, petting your hair while you look up at him. “we have all night.”

just tonight? you thought. what about the other nights? and days?

after a soft sigh, you nod and begin unbuttoning his flannel. your hands are a bit shaky from all the anticipation and the rapid beat of your heart. of course peter notices.

“are you alright?” he questions softly, being the caring guy he is.

“yeah, just nervous, i guess,” you answer honestly because he makes it easy to. he’s comforting and he cares.

so why are you nervous?

but instead of asking you why, he says, “me too.”

after you undo the last button and gently remove his flannel, you delicately smile at him. it was so pretty, peter couldn’t help but smile too. you tug on the end of his superman t-shirt, and he yanks it off. and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to his immaculate figure. it was sculpted to perfection, as if he was given his body from some drug. or maybe even the gods.

his hand raises to caress your supple cheek, causing you to stare at his face before he’s kissing you again. it started off sweet and gentle, like how peter saw you. but it didn’t take long for it to be rougher and full of lust. peter could feel his jeans tightening underneath you, and he wasn’t stupid enough to confuse the scent of your arousal with perfume or something.

trying again, your lips go to trail down peter’s neck again. his breath is wavering our sighs of pleasure as you lick and nibble his skin.

“gonna tell me that surprise?” peter asks, hands crawling up to the back of your dress. he’s sure to be careful as he drapes the straps down, the top slowly sliding down as you make out with his chest. you push peter’s body down so he’s laying flat on the bed, not answering him. “not gonna answer?”

you weren’t. you didn’t have time for all the things you wanted to do with him. all the things you wanted him to do to you. maybe you were too far gone to think it would take more than a night to be fulfilled by peter. more than two. more than a week? maybe a month. you’d keep going until you’re sick and tired, but you don’t think you could ever get sick or tired of peter parker.

lost within the feeling of his body, you barely comprehend when he flips you dramatically over. his hard body hovers above yours, your dress barely hiding your peaked nipples.

“i ask you a question, baby,” he husks, breath fanning over your skin and traveling toward your ear. a shiver scatters up your spine and a spark of lust fires in your clit.

“you have to wait and see,” you answered breathlessly, a smirk rising on your face.

a dark color covers his eyes. peter doesn’t like not knowing something, so he’s desperate to figure out your little “surprise.”

with little to no effort, violet’s dress is tugged all the way down your body. he tosses it gracefully onto his bedroom floor, but doesn’t pay any mind to it as he gazes over your body. he hasn’t seen you since wednesday and he was craving you like crazy. he thought he was going to go insane. but as he stares down at your figure adorning white fishnets sexily, he finally knows what it’s like to go crazy.

“is this my surprise? because, fuck, you look like a prize.”

you giggle as his rough fingertips trail down your torso. your nipples ache from neglect and the chilly october air that somehow breezes through the room. your body arches up into his touch, needing him badly. maybe you should just tell him the surprise.

but wouldn’t it be so much better if he just found it himself?

“can i unwrap my present?” peter teases with a cheeky smile, nudging at the waistline of your fishnets. you know that the second you open your legs he’s going to see your wetness leaking from the fabric.

“yes, peter,” you can’t help but laugh.

“do you care if i rip them?”

“what?”

“can i rip them?”

“i don’t—” the quiet sound of stretching and ripping cuts you off. he tore your fishnets. well, violet’s fishnets. “peter!”

“too late. i’ve never been good at unwrapping gifts,” he quickly kisses your cheek in a sweet apology, “luckily, i’m pretty good at taking care of them.”

you roll your eyes at his cheesiness, but can’t help but smile like a little kid. as he makes his way down your body again, he widens your legs and sees his surprise. your heart throbs just like your aching cunt.

“ah, so that’s my surprise,” he grumbles. it’s hard for him to keep it together right now.

peter stares darkly at the small purple toy peeking out from your bare pussy. you had no panties on, which in peter’s eyes, seemed ironic. from the top of his eyes, he sees the tiny smirk creeping up onto your lips.

his hand crawls up your leg until it reaches the soaking folds of your throbbing cunt. he pets your slit delicately, like you’d break if he fully touched you. you might. even from that simple touch, you were squirming underneath him, silently begging for more.

“how long has this been keeping you full?” he questions, curious, “is this what you’ve been using while i was gone?”

“mhm,” you hum when his fingers find your puffy clit, throbbing with desire. you leaked all around the purple toy, wetness gushing from you.

“look at you. fucking soaked. what made you this wet? was it the toy?” peter circles your clit faster, making your breath falter. you try to keep your eyes strained on him, but the feeling is just too incredible to focus on anything else. “answer me.”

“n-not the toy,” you stutter with breathlessness. a wavering moan elicits from you.

“then why are you so wet?” he taunts, and the low level of his voice floods over your body just right. you clench needily around the toy right in front of him, causing him to growl.

“you! nothing makes me wet like you do,” you admit head falling back on the pillow as his rough pace gives in. he’s satisfied with your answer, so he goes to a full, fast rhythm.

you’re so dazed with your orgasmic chase that your body rumbles as it nears. to make matters more intense, peter testingly pushes the small button on the bottom of the toy. it springs to life, vibrating your entire insides electrifingly. a broken moan escapes your swollen lips, and you just pray it’s hidden behind the heavy beat of the party music.

your legs shake in his hands as his head lowers. you’re so close to your high and then he does even more? you swear you were going to explode.

his challenging mouth sucks harshly on your clit, devouring you like you were his last meal on earth. instead of the bed sheets, your hands find their way to his soft hair, tucking the roots with triumph.

you’re breathless and you’re close. so, so close. you can see your orgasm in front of you like a sunset and you’re riding straight into it on a horse.

“peter!” you cry when he nibbles on your clit, a smirk pressed against you. it was nice to release your moans without having to muffle them down. your core tenses like never before, overwhelmed by the extreme pleasure. “i’m coming—oh, fuck, please let me come!”

“go ahead, sweet girl,” he pops off of you and replaces his mouth with his thick fingers. “give it all to me.”

so you do. you release every tension within you that was holding you back. with eyes screwed closed, your back arches from the high. the wetness squeezes out of you while peter eases you through it. he switches off the vibrator and puts it somewhere besides you on the bed.

he lowers his head to clean up the mess with delight. when he comes back up, the grin on his face is toothy and contagious. you reflect it back, wondering how you got so lucky. how were you lucky enough for your intruder to be peter parker?

“you okay, angel?” peter asks, thumb caressing your heated cheek bone with concern. you’re melting into his touch, hoping to be a part of him forever. you wouldn’t mind.

“yeah, just… thinking.”

“good or bad?”

“i’ll tell you later,” you smile as you recall all the small thoughts you have of peter. peter rolls his eyes dramatically as your hands rub down his chest.

“but… i was wondering if i could be on top? just wanna try it. i need it,” you stare into his eyes and patiently wait for an answer. you’ve never been on top before, but with peter it seems like it would be really fun.

“i don’t know. do you want me to die?”

you laugh, forcing you to look away from his brown eyes. you push peter off the bed until he’s standing and ask him to take off his pants. when he’s completely naked, he goes to lean against his headboard, ready for you to sit on him. you crawl over to him as he puts on a condom from his bedside table.

“ready, baby?” he massages your upper arms.

“you’re being too nice, peter,” you note as you throw your legs over his hips. you didn’t actually know what you were doing, but confidence is key. if you just pretended like you knew, it would look like it, right?

“what? do you want me to be mean, baby? ‘cause i can be mean.”

“don’t think you’re really capable.”

“we’ll see then, doll,” peter says deeply as his hand grips your hip tightly.

as you slowly lower your body with peter’s guidance, you feel his tip enter you. it was a different feeling than being on the bottom. you had more control, but you had to do more work. you’re not sure if you cared to have so much free reign. you kind of preferred when peter took the wheel.

you rocked your hips forward, feeling his hard cock fully inside of you. it was stretching you completely out. you couldn’t get up if you tried. there was a pain mixed with pleasure that filled you up so good.

“c’mon, y/n. fuck yourself on my cock,” he growled in encouragement as you attempted to lift your hips up. you barely move because you’re squeezing around his cock so tight, like if you let go you’ll die. peter lightly moans as you squeeze him, wondering if he’ll die right here inside of you.

“i-i can’t,” you whine.

“you can’t? thought you needed it?” he taunts. peter can be mean if he really wanted to,

“it’s too hard.”

“you’re not even trying. good girls at least try. don’t you want to be a good girl?”

peter thrusts up into you once to make you moan, which works successfully. you spit out your broken moan with your hands clawing his biceps.

“barely moved and you’re already moaning. pathetic, really. you asked me to be on top and you can’t even take it.”

you clench around his prick at his degrading words. you didn’t think he could be mean, but you were wrong. his words were just the right amount of degrading that made you weak and so, so wet.

“look at that. my girl’s getting off on words like pathetic,” my girl. the two words nearly cause you to come right then and there. then peter thrusts up into you with purpose in each movement. as one hand grips your hip, the other floats up to your breast and fingers your nipple. he flicks and tweaks at it, causing you to arch into his touch. “what about slut? do like when i call you my slut?”

“fuck, peter,” you groan at his dirty talking. with each pump, you would feel every inch of him inside of you, filling you up completely. although you’re so full, you needed it harder and faster, and it was going to be difficult to get it from this angle when you’re not being much help.

before the begging words even slip from your mouth, peter is flipping you both over with ease. he doesn’t waste a second to slide back into you, causing your body to erupt in flames.

he begins with hard pumps, slowly gaining speed. but once he’s going fast, you could barely focus on your senses. you swear you could hear colors.

the sounds of your moans, shrieks, and screams echo throughout his bedroom. you don’t care if people could hear you. you hoped they could. you hoped they knew how good peter was destroying you, so they knew you were his.

peter hoped the same thing.

“so, so good, peter,” your eyes rolled to the back of your head in ecstasy.

“yeah? such a slut for my cock, huh?” he teases, voice low and lustful. “so cockdumb that you couldn’t even ride me.”

“i-i can do it,” a breathless moan escaped you, but you were too floaty to understand what you were really saying.

“oh, now you can do it? well, it’s too late, sweetheart.”

peter’s pace doesn’t falter. he makes sure to make every thrust count as he hits every angle. you cry out in bliss, chasing your orgasm like your life depends on it.

“i’m close,” the whine that elicits from you is groggy and strained from how sore it feels. you can’t even imagine how raw it would be from taking him down your throat…

for another time.

his rough hand trails down between you until he’s pressing his hand down on your stomach. with every shift of his cock he can feel himself moving through you. as he puts more pressure, you both collectively moan at the feeling.

“can you feel me? can you feel me deep inside of your little cunt? do you feel me right here?” peter drags your trembling hand to place it on your lower torso, right where he’s nonstop thrusting into you.

“yes, peter! fuck, you’re so big. i feel you in my tummy,” you clamp around his cock, your orgasm right around the corner. “please, please let me come. i’ve been good.”

“have you? you couldn’t even ride me even when i let you.”

“i’m sorry, peter–please. need to so bad,” your eyes are squeezed shut as you beg peter. his hand that was on top of yours drifts down to your clit. he stimulates it by rubbing in tight circles that have you seeing stars. every muscle is in your body is screaming and pleading for release while he overstimulates you more. “want to be good!”

“yeah? want to be a good girl?” a needy moan elicits from you. “then come for me. right now while you’re squeezing me.”

the air surrounding you turned wistful and cloudy. your body rumbled and erupted as you orgasmed, shaking with desire as it poured out of you. you thought the first time that you and peter fucked was the best sex you’ve ever had, but after tonight, you’ve never been more wrong. maybe it’s because you two are a little more comfortable with each other. maybe it’s because you told him to be a little mean. whatever it was, it was the best fucking sex you’ve ever had. because it was more than sex. it felt like more.

peter’s orgasm trails yours, making sure that you come first. his thrusts were slowier and sloppier as he pants out heavy breaths. before exiting you, his hand reaches up to caress your face.

“okay?” his voice was a bit raspy as he came down from his high. his arms were on either side of your head, and you felt safe and protected.

“more than,” you smiled dopily at peter, whose eyes were twinkling. reflecting a smile, peter begins to pull out of you. “do we have to?”

“have to what?” he stops his movements, half-way out of you. you hated the empty feeling that started to flood over you because you knew he’d leave soon. well, you would leave soon.

“leave. can’t we just stay in here all night?” you question. a part inside of you was scared for his rejection, that he was going to kick you out and then that was it. but the other half of you had the courage to ask because you knew it would all be fine.

“i would–”

“oh, there’s a but coming.”

“but i need to eat. and so do you,” he pulls out of you and rids out the condom within a few seconds. you don’t move from your flat position on the bed, feeling the cold waves of loneliness flooding over you already. peter had a tingle that you wanted more. you wanted to stay, but you were too nervous to ask. you were good at giving him big hints, though.

he loves the idea of you staying. laying with you and hearing your soft breaths as you sleep. cuddling close to be warm from the cold air. peter’s heart lurches at the wonderful thought.

peter reaches for his clothes and dresses. you bend over and slip on the dress, without the fishnets. your hair was probably a mess, but you didn’t care because the only person you cared about seeing tonight was peter.

once you’re dressed with shaky hands, peter stands in front of you and rests his hands on your shoulders. delicately, he caresses your neck as you practically pur into his warm touch. you felt your heart rate pick up, even though he was just inside of you.

“and then, if you’d like, we can come back up here,” he presses his chest against yours as his voice softens, “and we can lay in bed, watch a movie, and not worry about being caught because we don’t have rules like you do.”

although your heart was beating fast already, you’ve never felt more comfortable. he made you feel reassured, and you couldn’t ask for more. with a smile rising to your lips, peter’s heart skips a beat at the wistfulness cascading throughout his body. your lips were soft and kissable, your skin was glowing with an orgasmic shine, and your makeup was a bit smudged, but you still looked like peter’s perfect girl.

his girl.

“wait, before we eat, i have to get some stuff at the sorority.”

“okay,” he says, “put this on. it’s freezing and your wearing practically nothing.”

he throws a hoodie at you and you catch it with blinking eyes. it as a small gesture, but your heart was melting. you slip it over your head without any question. and then he’s dragging you out of the extremely loud and crowded house. no one says or questions anything, and you’ve never been more glad to be so invisible.

–

“what are you doing? come on!”

“what if they see me?”

“there’s no one home!” you whisper-shouted at peter as you walked through the door. there was a key under the flower pot that worked great when you forgot your key.

it’s kind of ironic that you are both sneaking into your sorority. it’s a full circle moment.

you both tiptoe through the clean, white house. peter nearly takes his shoes off because he’s scared he’ll leave dirt footprints in his trail. he really does not want to be seen in this house knowing what happened to flash the last time they snuck in. but it’s peter’s job to be stealthy, so he hopes he could keep up the good work.

you make it up the stairs and head straight for your room. peter remembered exactly which one was yours, now that he’s been in it two times somehow. once you’re both inside, he shuts the door behind him quietly like someone would hear him.

“why did we just tiptoe all the way up here? there’s no one even here!” you say in a normal level voice as a chuckle follows after. peter laughs with you as you search your drawers for some clothes.

“i feel it’s only right to bring the mit one, right?”

“definitely.”

“wait, did you leave the vibrator on your bed?”

“uh… yeah. sorry.”

“peter!” your skin grows warm with the idea that someone might stumble into his bedroom and find it just lying there. you cringe at yourself.

you pack a small overnight bag with your most needed essentials. peter sits patiently on your bed, practically swinging his feet as he analyzes your bedroom. it was simple with a few picture frames of family and friends. your room was basically plain white with a few pink and blue items scattered around the place. in all, it was you. he couldn’t think of a better sorority room to fit your vibe, your personality better than this room. it was naturally gorgeous, like you.

even though peter was looking around your room, he was still watching you pack. he observed when you folded a pair of night shorts with the mit t-shirt and even threw in an outfit for the next day just in case you two went out. but you were missing something.

“okay, let me grab my toothbrush,” you quickly left the room and in no-time were back. “let’s go. i’m hungry now.”

“but you’re forgetting something,” peter says. you blink, wondering what you might be forgetting.

“but i grabbed everything–” you watch as peter glides towards your dresser drawers. he opens the top left and immediately finds your colorful panties and underwear. your eyes widen in embarrassment, even though he’s seen you naked multiple times. something about him staring at your undergarments was just a little more… vulnerable?

peter snatches two different colors, a royal blue one and a vibrant red one, similar to the first one he saw you in. of course, he picked these colors purposely.

“which one? i’m thinking the blu–”

“what are you doing! that’s my underwear!” you tried to reach for them dangling in his hands, but he was way quicker than you. it’s like he knew before you even moved.

“well, i think at this point it’s kind of a tradition for me to take one, no? i couldn’t take them earlier because you weren’t wearing any!”

your neck and cheeks flush with embarrassment. yeah, you may have been confident when in the moment, but talking about it just made your face hot. peter always knew how to get you going. to get quickly out of this situation, you grumble, “blue.”

and with that, you were on your way back to the frat house. the party was still going strong and surprisingly, no one asked where either of you were. when you and peter walked through the door, people just acted like you’ve been there the whole time. but they were also drunk and high, so was it really that shocking?

within the first few minutes of you and peter being in the congested house, you both look at each other with a knowing look. there was no way you two could eat in this populous, mess of a place.

“diner?” peter shouts over the blaring music. he swore flash turned it up to full volume, even when peter told him specifically not to do that.

“exactly what i was thinking,” you reply loudly as you squeeze your bodies through the crowd. peter slides his hand into yours as you shift through everybody. a spark of electricity nearly shocks you.

when you approach his car, you throw your bag at the bottom of your feet before dropping into his passenger seat. you both inhale and exhale the refreshing night time air. the house smelt like marjuana and sweat, but his car was scented with pine and fresh leather.

as he started the car, you two didn’t say anything. and it was perfect. it was comfortable. it was safe. you turn your head to look at peter, whose eyes were fighting between the road and you. your heart skips a beat that’s getting familiar as you smile softly. gently, your hands intertwine as you ride on to the diner.

your journey with peter started… differently than most. but you liked the idea of having a tradition with peter. sure, it may not be traditional, but it was yours. you would both have to create a fundraiser for all these panties he will be stealing because they’re not cheap!

is it really stealing if you know he’s taking them? whatever.

when people ask how you guys met, it’s going to be a funny story. how many people break into someone’s house as a dare and then fall in love with them? not many.

wait… love?

–

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. i could not be more grateful for the love on panty stealer. i never thought any of my writing would get this much notice, so thank you (times three) for all the likes, comments, and reblogs.

note: i won’t be making anymore full parts, however, i will do blurbs/drabbles of these two if requested!

taglist: @invisibletrolleyson-jeremy @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @marzipaanz @sylum @harrys-humble-housewife @blurazbabe @introverbatim @piperparker7 @graceberman3 @tommy-braccoli @fioooweeooweeeoo @conrad4life13

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #peter parker #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland smut #peter parker fics #peter parker fanfics #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland fics #tom holland fanfics #peter parker one shot #tom holland one shot

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ruewrote · 1 year

Text

𝑑𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑚𝑦.

PAIRING: peter parker x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: idk SONG INSPIRATION: talking body by tove lo WORD COUNT: 738

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you and peter had been laying in his bed for the most part of being at his house.

rewatching star wars, him telling you the most interesting parts, but as much as you were listening, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that your face was pressed against his pecs.

occasionally glancing up as he speaks down towards you, trying to keep a good poker face, but were most definitely freaking out on the inside.

pete sat up a little bit which made you pull away a little bit making you feel a bit disappointed.

“y/n! you there dude?” he chuckled whilst waving his hand in your face. snapping you back into reality as if you weren’t just fantasying about your best friend’s washboard abs. no, of course not.

“yeah-yeah i’m totally fine!” your words coming out rushed and stuttered as you settled back onto his chest and resumed the episode.

your love for your best friend’s abs were becoming a problem.

no like seriously!

last week you guys had gym together, you had been holding his feet down as he he did sit ups whilst talking to each other, but you kept spacing out since his abs were poking through his shirt each time he sat up.

trying to look anywhere but him, your eyes locked onto another pair who had caught you in the act. ned. he just smirked at you and then looked back over to his partner and carried on working out.

you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment waiting for the class to be over and hoped that your other best friend wouldn’t open his mouth.

it had been about two weeks since the absolutely soul-destroying moment happened to you in the gym, ned hadn’t said anything about it to peter, but that didn’t stop him from teasing you about it.

“dude, you have a bad staring problem.” ned laughed at you as you kicked his shin before you shoved your face in your hands as you leant your elbows on the cafeteria table, shaking your head. knowing he would never let you live this down.

“i seriously don’t know what’s wrong with me lately, i had one thought about him and now they won’t stop coming, especially about his abs, like what’s wrong with me?” you fake cried and he just laughed at you.

“wait i have an idea.” ned had called peter over after he had gotten his food, making his way over to you two.

“what are you doing?” you whispered yelled over to him before putting on your best fake smile acting normal.

peter was now standing behind you - raising his eyebrow in confusion.

“can you flex really quick for me?” kind of used to ned geeking out over the fact that he was spiderman didn’t really surprise that he would ask that, sliding his tray onto the table, his hands slowly rolling his sleeves before doing so.

that’s when he did it, this had you floored. the vein in his bicep pulsing, your eyes skimmed over to his forearms which were now even thicker now that the muscles were tensed.

not to mention his abs were blatantly pressed against his white under shirt right in your face, peter had now brought his arms down, sitting beside you and started eating without question. you turned back around to the table before picking at the food on your own plate.

the guys spoke to each other back and forth about some school project that they were working on together. you were quiet trying to process what had just happened, the brunette turned towards you, it was odd for you to be so quiet.

cursing your shortness. your face was always pressed into his torso as you guys shared a hug. that’s when you had acknowledged it every time he’d wrap you up in his arms.

you’d had enough of his oblivious teasing and were going to do something about it, so as he was about to leave you...

“hey pete, can you wait a second i need to see something.” he of course had no problem with agreeing.

that’s when you had grasped the hem of his shirt and raised it, as you expected you were met with rock hard abs, running your hand over them, giving him an approved ‘hm’ and pulling it back down again and sent his confused self home, wondering what the fuck just happened.

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nouearth · 3 months

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double-stuffed.

peter parker x male reader x jaime reyes.

summary: nothing bonds two men who hate each other more than a sloppy mouth, and a sloppy hole.

wc: 13.1k. genre: smut. warnings: college au, friends with benefits, top!peter, tasm!peter, jealous!peter top!jaime, jealous!jaime, bottom!reader, threesome, rough-sex, blowjobs, handjobs, double-penetration, dirty-talk, muscle worship, body worship, fingering, ass-eating, mouth-fucking, dry-humping, breeding, eiffel-tower, filthy smut, loads and loads of cum, peter and jaime are rivals, reader is a slut, and reader also has a stretched out and sloppy hole by the end!

notes: how tf did i just write 13k of pure smut. ok well, not pure smut since i added some backstory, BUT. i wrote a lot, like??? hello??? someone check up on me!!!

The cold air breached through the cracked-open window in Peter’s bedroom. It’d been the winter season for months, yet snow had become a rarity with every passing year. It was much appreciated when you saw the ice crystals accumulate and cover the ground until it felt like you were practically walking on crunchy clouds.

Though, despite the weather, it didn’t stop classes from continuing unfortunately.

Another gust of wind blew into his bedroom, and you pressed closer into Peter’s body. Legs entangled with his longer limbs, and he’d bring your front leg over his hip for extra comfort, simultaneously providing himself another opportunity of friction to thaw out his goosebumps.

“Pete…” You muttered into the kiss. It came out in hesitant sputters, breathless as his hips began moving against yours in a lazy yet fruitful pressure.

You weren’t sure when it happened; Peter had an incredibly poisoning effect on you that blurred time altogether; but your jeans were tossed to the corner, leaving you in your sweater and briefs. He was dressed, or rather undressed, similarly; a blue sweater that contrasted your beige, except his pants were unbuckled down to his knees.

“Why did you open the window? I’m cold.” He muttered back, detaching his lips from yours to settle onto his second favorite part of your body—your neck.

Peter was observant. He had catalogued sections of your skin that would honor his ears the sweet and delectable sounds of your moans from many times prior.

Simply kissing your neck wasn’t enough. Licking multiple stripes beneath the underside of your jaw made you stiffen and swallow down any potential sounds. It was a leap forward, but you were resistant to him—at the very least, you did well in feigning it—and he’d start suckling to hammer ice picks at the barricade that had seemingly repelled all of his actions.

“Would help if you had your pants back on, you know—“ You answered after several long moments. Your mind had pivoted to Peter’s pair of lips by now, closing your eyes to the sloppy sounds of his markings as you breathed in the scent of his shampoo.

When he felt a swallow, your adam’s apple bobbing for aid—to catch some sort of breath—Peter could see the barricade crumble, feel his liability in infecting you with desire and lust as he felt a tent forming in your briefs. And he’d bite a mark into your flesh to let you out of your misery, drawing out the poison with several hard sucks until it was bruising. A gasp and multiple drowsy moans of his name heightened his senses and Peter felt his ears redden with heat from how absolutely devouring you sounded.

You felt his hand slip under your sweater and made its way towards your chest, pinching and circling your nubs with gentle fingers.

“Besides,” There was a familiar heat being stimulated with every grind of his hips, every tweeze of your nipples, and you’d thank Peter in between with a motion of your own. A languid kiss accompanied as you pressed intimately close, slowing the eagerness of Peter’s movements as both of your bulges collectively rubbed and throbbed when direct contact was being made. “Doesn’t seem like the cold is affecting you much.”

He chuckled at your tease. “Yeah? I’m just getting started too—“ The same hand that was thawing the goosebumps off your chest cascaded back to its rightful place on your thigh, then to the cheeks of your covered ass before he playfully squeezed and slapped in turn.

You let out a laugh, pushing yourself back onto his palms when he’d begun kneading at your flesh. His eyes were focused on your bitten lips, clearly isolating any more noises that would make his ears burst into flames if they hadn’t already.

But he was selfish. He needed more of you.

Whenever you pushed back, he pulled you forward, rocking you into him—into the tent forming stubbornly in his boxers. One hand rested on Peter’s cheek and there would be moments where you’d ever so gently cupped the plumpest section of his skin when you rolled into him just right.

“Fuck, Pete—“ It started off innocent with your hips moving back slowly, languidly into him as if you had no intentions of finishing what you started.

You were spellbound. He tantalized every ounce of thought until he had become the sole proprietor of your brain, leasing you a vitality that you could only repay in pure and absolute pleasure.

“Shit—“ The collaborative movements had enough momentum to coincidentally shift his boxers until the slit aligned with the tucking of his erection, and with one more roll of your hips, you drew Peter’s weighty cock out from the opening.

“Keep doing that… fuck. My dick’s out.” He was desperate in his demands and equally distracted as he constantly switched gazes between the way your clothed bulge rubbed against his hard-on, and the parting of your swollen lips, to which he immediately seized the chance to slip his tongue inside of you.

He explored you in every way possible, licking inside of your mouth then pursuing your wet muscle in a brief yet sloppy chase, swiveling his tongue around yours until you surrendered into his hunger. His hands remained on your ass, squeezing and kneading at your cheeks as you continued to hump him—continued to hump his cock, your bulge pressing intimidate against his as Peter’s erection was sandwiched between your bodies, providing no window of escape.

“Wait,” You gave him a slight push on the chest when you familiarized yourself with the golden hour streaming past his window, and somehow Peter took your movements to maneuver you on top of him, sitting you on his lap. He kicked off the remaining length of his pants while you searched the surface of his bed for your phone, scoring when you felt a familiar weight in your hand.

You clicked open to the lock screen as Peter’s hands continued roaming free around your body, practically fucking himself into the barrier that were your tight briefs, and sighed. “Class is in thirty.”

“And? You can make it in time, or skip class? Fuck—I’m close…“ He reasoned and pleaded with his eyes, almost comically desperate.

“Mm-mm.” You shook your head, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grounded yourself to falter Peter’s hips to a disgruntled pause. “It’s a twenty-minute walk from here. And I don’t want to keep my partner from waiting! We were supposed to meet up earlier—“

“You seriously giving me blue balls right now? That’s a first—“ He grumbled, unwilling to let you go as his grasp tightened around your hips. It only loosened when you pressed a kiss to his lips again, whispering a soft apology in the delicacy of it.

“Sorry… I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

You lifted yourself off of the bed to Peter’s dismay and re-adjusted the tent in your briefs, slipping into your jeans after.

“Partner?” Peter’s curiosity was piqued, only because his courses rarely had group projects beyond the usual lab-work. “Is he nice? She? They?”

He followed after you, begrudgingly rolling off of his bed when the mere mention of your classes reminded him of his own deadlines approaching. He tucked himself back inside of his boxers. Though, a large tent greatly remained.

“He. You might know him? He told me he was in a couple of my classes before then, and those were all the same ones you and I were in.” Your eyes scanned for your books, collecting it into your arms when you found them, then for your backpack after.

Peter gave your shoulder a small nudge and you turned back, finding your backpack hanging by his fingers. “Yeah? Who?”

“Thanks,” You took your bag from him, swinging it onto your shoulder, and then pressed a grateful kiss to his cheek. “Uh… Jaime! Jaime Reyes.”

“Jaime…?” Peter paused in thought, then frowned as if he ate one of your favorite sour candies. “That… asshole in Film Studies?”

He followed you from behind as you exited his bedroom and headed towards the entrance of the apartment.

“You remember him? I don’t think I even remember what we watched in that class, to be honest. Was he that bad?”

“Yeah… Always dismissed my critical theories like they were completely wrong. Remember how we were randomly assigned a partner and we’d be stuck with them throughout the semester? He was mine! Peer-reviewing was hell with him… ” Peter bitterly recounted the memories as you listened.

There was a puzzled expression on your face that Peter found himself half-humored by, but your gaze snapped into a bright realization, as if the lightbulb above your head had exploded, the more he explained.

“Oh, yeah…! You guys were constantly going at each other when we would do those Socratic seminars. Thank god for you two, otherwise I would’ve been the one debating or asking questions.” You half-joked, but cleared your throat when there was little to no amusement in Peter’s demeanor.

“Well, maybe he thought you were cute.” You attempted to reason. “And that was his way of flirting? Or maybe he was intimidated by another smarty-pants in the class and he was over-compensating.” You snorted, holding onto the wall as you slipped your shoes on a foot at a time.

“Maybe…?” He sighed, observing you as his erection took a painful lap in its journey back to being flaccid. “Don’t take it out on me if you get a migraine because of him.”

“Pft, I deal with you on a daily basis. I can handle anything.” You finalized your outfit with a coat and a scarf around your neck. “I’ll be back!”

“Wait—“ Before you exited, he pulled you back to him by your wrist, grinning. “You got something in your eye.”

“I don’t feel anything—“ Peter took ahold of your cheeks and cradled them in his palms—plump flesh that were warm enough to convince you to skip your class for today and make a blanket fort with him instead. You smiled as he leaned close, centimeters from touching his nose with yours, and you could feel your heart weighing heavier than usual, swelling with ease the longer Peter gazed into your eyes.

And somehow, it didn’t even burst when he abruptly blew into your eye, obnoxiously laughing. “Now you do.”

“Asshole.” You elbowed his arm, his laugher quickly infecting yours, and you bid him goodbye with a peck on the lips. “Do your homework!”

Taking a painful glance at his desk from the entrance hall, piles of textbooks, notebooks, and sticky notes mocked and taunted Peter of his impending deadlines.

He groaned, dragging his feet back into his bedroom and towards his desk. “Can’t promise that.”

There was indeed something way worse than having blue balls.

“You’re still up?” Peter stepped out of his bedroom with a scratchy yawn. The dryness of his throat never failed to rouse him awake around 3 AM. His tousled hair bounced with every sluggish step towards the water filter, pressing a kiss to your cheek mid-way.

“When am I not…” Your voice was dull and monotonous as you remained fixated on the screen of your laptop, typing away at a filled word document. You had a late reaction to his kiss, turning towards Peter for a kiss on the lips instead—a reward for your hard-work for the day—but he’d already left to chug a glass of water down.

“I thought you were finished with your project by now?” He filled another cup of water before properly joining you on the couch.

Peter’s appearance for the night alerted you to clear your mind and take a breather. Your laptop was shoved off to the side and his arm immediately opened to bring you closer. You could feel the warmth of his gaze glazing over you with worry as he passed his cup of water into your hand.

“Yeah…” You sighed, drinking the lukewarm liquid in tired sips. “Turns out we needed to write an essay per topic, not include the three we’ve chosen in one collective essay.” When you finished explaining, you gulped the entire glass down, and set it on the coaster.

“That��s… tough, and annoying, and I’m sorry.” You and Peter laughed as lethargy devastated him of the vocabulary needed to properly sympathize for you, but his presence was more than enough. He rubbed your shoulder, giving one side an affectionate squeeze as a simple act of support while you leaned into him. “What’s Jaime doing?”

“The same thing. He’s coming over in the afternoon, so we can hopefully finish the rest.” You could feel Peter stiffen. If he had a switch on his body, it was flipped and glued to defense mode because as much as he hated to admit it, he was intimidated by Jaime.

“Be nice, okay? I mean, what—we were sophomores? We were all figuring ourselves out early on.”

“Hm.”

Peter was intimidated by how much time Jaime was spending time with you in and outside of class; by how quickly you seemed to have bonded over the course of a few weeks; by how intimate you seemed to have gotten with him judging by the fresh amount of hickies displayed on your neck, dethroning Peter’s own set of bruising marks.

It was all his fault—Peter’s.

He was the one that insisted on whatever you and him have had going on instead of pursuing a romantic relationship like you wanted. There had been many times where he regretted that decision; times where he thought making you his was simply a fleeting thought and nothing more. But it backfired, and regret came back in a full, disastrous, home-wrecking storm of karma.

“Get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” It was Peter’s sudden movements that made you jolt after enduring the long silence. He got up from the couch and walked back into his bedroom without sparing you a glance.

As if the thickened air in the room wasn’t telling enough, Peter’s stoicism solidified your assumption. You sighed a weight that fueled the tension looking free.

He was furiously jealous.

Peter hated how you came back from class later than you usually did. He hated how Jaime’s cologne of cedar wood and musk stung his nose instead of your usual scent of oak moss and citrus peels. He hated how every time he caught a glance of your phone, it was a text massage from Jaime. He hated how Jaime had a bug emoji next to his name, similar to how Peter had a spider next to his. He hated how Jaime had infiltrated your life, to the point of you having to base your schedule around him now.

And Peter hated how every time he was inside of you, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Jaime’s cock was buried deep in your ass, how you willingly bent over or spread open for him, how you kneeled on the floor and most likely whined and begged for his cum as you jerked him off, emptying your thoughts of what was left of Peter for him.

For Jaime.

Peter was losing you—losing to Jaime of all people—more and more with every passing day.

But he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Jaime…” You whined, drawing out the last vowel of his name as you stretched forward to loosen the tense muscles knotting along your lower back. A groan escaped when the pad of your fingers grazed your toes, and you immediately snapped back when a cramp began to settle in. “Can we take a break? I swear, I’m starting to go blind.”

You and Jaime have been sitting on the floor, circled around your coffee table in the living room as you both worked on finishing the essays, as well as the accompanying presentation.

“Uh-oh, seems like we gotta take desperate measures then. Who else would hype me up if you go blind?” He joked, then stretched his arms upwards until a loud crackle drew a satisfying groan from him. “Dinner?”

“Uh…” You looked around for your phone, spotting it on the couch you were leaning back against, and clicked the device open to reply to Peter’s messages. “Peter said he was getting pizza for us after class. Should be on his way now.”

[Petey 🕷️]: All pepperoni ok? [M/N]: yeaaaap, can you get pineapple on one side too [Petey 🕷️]: Oh god, I forgot that you’re a pineapple person [M/N]: IT’S GOOD TO ME! 🍍🍍🍍 [Petey 🕷️]: You could dip it in a can of pineapple juice and there would be no difference

[M/N]: shut up, i’m the one paying for it

“Huh, really?” Jaime was surprised, straightening his posture as he took a nonchalant peek at your phone. For a moment there, Peter’s kindness took ahold of Jaime’s pessimism by the reins and pressed a non-existent brake. “That’s… nice of him.”

Frankly, it was your suggestion to Peter, which surprisingly didn’t take much convincing since it was his favorite pizza joint. All he really needed was a kiss to seal the deal.

Jaime’s gaze flickered between the sprint of your thumbs and your growing smile. Blue and grey colored message bubbles appeared one after another, and the snickers that fostered briefly colored him red. Rather than finding the sound of your voice annoying, it was the person nourishing the joyful noises out of you that ticked him off.

Since middle school, he had always been at the top of his class. Whether it was because he truly enjoyed the subjects in school, or because he wanted to be the hero that pulled his family out of poverty—failing wasn’t an option.

Then came Peter Parker. He’d been in four of his courses since sophomore year, but it was Film Studies that truly roused a flame within him. Maybe because it was a smaller class as opposed to a seminar like the rest of his classes with him.

Or maybe because it was his first class with you, absolutely head over heels for Peter.

Peter, who would come into class late because he overslept. Peter, who would fall asleep during a viewing of a film instead of analyzing the mise-en-scene. Peter, who would be awaken by their professor and somehow manage to conjure an answer that would satisfy her—or worse, impress her. Peter, who didn’t have to work hard as him because he was… Peter Parker.

Peter Parker, who was the sole captor of your bright smile that Jaime had preferred over a hot cup of coffee when mornings were tough; the motivation for you to come out of your shell because Peter didn’t want you to be a loner like him; the person you would rely on because you trusted his opinion; the reason Jaime could find the courage to get a word in when he approached you because Peter was always by your side.

Peter, who Jaime could never be.

“Hey,” Your ear twitched as a gentle draft blew into the canal, and you immediately turned to face Jaime, ticklish in your endeavor. “I’m here too.” His lips pressed onto yours, sweet and fulfilling despite there being a bitterness in his tone.

“Sorry…” You murmured, tossing your phone to the side as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close and relishing in the softness of his lips.

Jaime let his muscles go limp, immediately toppling over your body once you pulled him close, and your bodies clumsily collided onto the rug with a small thump, a fit of laughter breaking the kiss apart in midst.

He positioned himself on his side after rolling off of you, cushioning your body with one of his arms beneath your back in turn. “Why is your rug comfier than my bed?”

You shrugged, sprightly raising your brows. “Doesn’t stop us from making out on it.” Your hand rested on his cheek briefly before swiveling it over to the front of his hair, brushing it back in one stoke, and settling on the back of his head to pull him face-to-face, nose-to-nose.

The dark curls of Jaime’s hair fell forward over his forehead in delicate and thick clumps, and you sniffed a familiar waft of spearmint that was pleasant to your senses. “Do that again. Feels nice.”

“Yeah?” You chuckled because Jaime’s voice lowered to a calming whisper, feeling his lips brush ever so slightly over yours—feathery and light like a brush—as you repeated your strokes. Your nails scraped lightly over his scalp, enough pressure to close his eyes and coerce a satisfied sigh out of him, and then another into your mouth when he kissed you as delicately as your touch again.

Every swipe of Jaime’s lips—of his tongue—muted the sounds around you, phased you out of reality, and lulled you out of the migraine you’ve been enduring for pulling an all-nighter. The last sound you recalled hearing was Jaime’s zipper, an enchanting pitch that needed no verbal cue for you to sneak your hand down his pants. The eye-rolling massage at the base of his head was abandoned, but it was immediately compensated when you rubbed and cupped at his clothed bulge.

For a moment, Jaime perfectly fit in your palm, letting your fingers do most of the work without much wrist movement as they pressed and squeezed at the soft lump. As you continued, you gradually felt the lump expand into a meaty mass that had you practically drooling into his mouth because you remember the taste and smell of his thick cock.

And defeated, because you recollected the uncomfortable stretch he’d summon when he was inside of you.

“Fuck.” Jaime hissed when your thumb pressed the smooth fabric of his briefs to the plump glans of his uncut cock, forcing the fabric to swivel his foreskin over the head in tantalizing circles—until thick drips of pre-cum stuck and stained a spot of the white briefs into a deeper shade of grey. “I could come just like this, you know?”

“Would be a waste of cum, though.” You simpered, looking pleased with the effect you had on him. Your hand began stroking the thick shape of his cock, pushing his tuck upwards until the tip poked out from under the waistband, greeting you with a delectable coat of pre-cum when you peeked downwards.

Jaime exhaled a shaky breath, pulling his shirt off. “Knowing you, you’d probably suck it right off the fabric, wouldn’t you?” The starry haze in your eyes; the constant licks of your lips; the harder grasps at his cock to pursue more dribbles of his pre-cum; he recognized the symptoms of your lewd vehemence straight off-the-bat, promptly rolling onto his back and kicking his pants off.

“Fuck, yeah.” You were famished, absolutely starving from the way you attacked his lips and sloppily explored his mouth with your tongue after straddling on top of him. You pressed onto his bulge, pushing against the center of his briefs with deep ruts until the head of his cock was exposed. Your mouth swallowed every profanity that would slip out of Jaime’s throat, fueling your hunger and channeling it into harder grinds.

He briefly put you on time-out to sit up and help you undress, one article of clothing at a time, beginning with your shirt. Jaime latched his mouth onto the first surface of skin he laid his eyes on. As you lifted your shirt, exposing more of your body, his lips trailed behind the hem soon after. He licked upward in one long strike, then dragged his tongue over the center of your chest, murmuring as you held his head close.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved your body?” It was a sweet confession, some would reckon that it was wholesome, and that was more of a reason why it made your cock throb in strong pulses, begging for your sweatpants to release them for oxygen. He chuckled, one hand squeezing you at your bulge. “Guess I haven’t enough.”

First, he tongued at your nipples, flicking the wet muscle on one nub before moving onto the next as he held you by the waist with one hand, balancing your straddle on his lap, and massaging the print in your pants with the other. Your cheeks ignited into flames when you caught his gaze; half-lidded and drowsy as if the sound of your moans was his lullaby. Then, he gently bit when he figured you’ve been hypnotized by the languid swivel of his tongue for far too long, disrupting the chain of moans into staggers. “Jaime, fuck—“

“Try tugging on them with your teeth.” Your brows furrowed, wrinkles creasing in the middle of the two arches, as you were puzzled by a sudden voice that sounded distinctly different from Jaime’s.

When you met his gaze again, his expression mirrored yours, frowning because your lips never moved when the voice came up. “What did you—“

There was a silhouette that loomed near the open kitchen that pulled your gaze from Jaime and towards the shape of a familiar body instead. Jaime’s gaze quickly followed yours after witnessing your pupils dilate.

Peter was leaning back on the kitchen island, watching with one hand down his pants and a smile that rendered you speechless and frozen in place. “When did you—I-I didn’t even hear you come in—“

“Few minutes ago. Good thing I didn’t miss the miss the show. It was getting good.”

Before you and Jaime could begin scrambling for your clothes, Peter was already on his way towards the two of you, halting in front. You scanned him from head to toe for any anomalies, a break you’d expect to see if someone was caught almost fucking on their living room floor. What you got instead was a familiar gaze that you’ve accustomed to your own intimacy with Peter, then he lightly tapped his foot against Jaime’s lower back.

“Not the ideal situation I’d like to… meet you again in, but… I will say that I like it a lot better than what I had originally imagined.”

“Seriously? What do you—“ Jaime met Peter’s eyes, an awkward yet heavy tension in the air forming, but once his gaze fell to the center of Peter’s crotch being palmed by his hand, he felt a lightbulb go off. “Ah.” He scoffed, a gale of chuckles following after because of the absurdity of the situation—to cover up the guilt that he found it hot at the same time.

That he actually found Peter attractive.

“Peter, I don’t think this is—“ You reasoned, but Peter deprived your speech when he began stripping off his own clothes. What the fuck is happening…?!

“(M/N) likes it when you tug on his nipples with your teeth.” He ignored you, nonchalantly repeating to Jaime. Though, it was hard to ignore the dumb-stricken look on your face when he approached closer to you, your confused gaze following his every movement. To appease you, he gave your chin a gentle cup, fondly stroking the center with his thumb as he shared a look that you could only deem as trusting from him.

You only began to relax when Jaime forged his suggestion into reality when he brought his mouth back up to your nipples and gently tugged at the nubs with his teeth. Every pull yanked a moan out of you, but you couldn’t help but feel entirely exposed and ashamed, knowing that Peter was watching you with another man.

It was allowed. Jaime and Peter have known about each other as flings for quite some time now, so it wasn’t like you were cheating, but… why did it feel wrong?

Once Peter stripped himself down to his boxers, he approached your side again for support, a large tent begging for you to release it from the loose restriction of the pattered fabric. Jaime’s gaze curiously followed Peter, watching his every move as he suckled, bit, and pulled at your nipples. He repeated despite the fact that they were swollen in between his lips, gratified that they were becoming perkier with every torment he’d inflict upon them.

Despite the fact that you had given into Jaime’s touch, into Peter’s demands, you looked up at him with concern, a daunting guilt weighing heavily on your shoulders, and he recognized that look with sympathy, assuring you with a calming smile and a soft kiss for good measure.

“Be a good boy for me, and stroke my cock.” Peter murmured lowly, stroking your cheek with doting knuckles, and you felt pacified right then and there. “And when you’re stroking my cock, you’re going to stop being selfish, treat Jaime like the respectable guest he is, and suck him off—got it?”

It was rare for Peter to be verbal like that. It wasn’t him, he claimed once, explaining that it was awkward because it sounded like he was in a cheesy porno.However, even if it was terribly and overly used in those pornos; a porno was a porno, and Peter was turning you on more than ever right now.

You inhaled, absolutely enraptured by what you were demanded to do that you forgot to breathe for a brief moment—but Peter kissed you again as a reminder, and you nodded. “Got it.”

You could feel Jaime throbbing under your clothed ass, his bulge prodding at the center of the fabric in desperate beats, as if he was agreeing to Peter’s ultimatum. Guess the dirty talk got to you too, huh?

As you climbed off of Jaime’s lap, Peter tossed a couple of throw pillows to him for his lower back and his head. Then, he did the honors of pulling your sweatpants off. A collective sigh of relief was heard as Peter and Jaime realized you went commando when your cock sprang free, throbbing and begging solely on the basis of Jaime’s mouth and Peter’s voice.

You knelt on the floor and bent forward, pushing your ass back while you slowly tugged Jaime’s briefs off to reveal his thick, uncut cock, seeping in its own pre-cum. “Pete, look how wet he is.” You slurred on your own drool as Peter knelt by Jaime’s hip, rubbing at his own cock.

“Geez, no wonder you were such an ass. Probably kept ruining your pants—“ Peter amused himself, taking one glance at the flushed expression on Jaime’s face, and chuckled.

“No, that’s not— we’re going to talk about my problem with you later.” Jaime stammered, but then halted when a sigh huffed past the dry of his throat as you took his stiff dick in your hand and stroked, squeezing until his foreskin covered the swollen glans completely and let the pre-cum pool within the folds, and then pulled the skin back and spread the thick coating back over the head again, somehow thicker with every cycle.

“Fuck…” Peter watched in awe, continuing to palm at his erection until the restriction of the garment had become unbearable to sit in. He slipped his boxers off and tossed it to the corner, then positioned his hips to sneak his cock into the palm of your free hand.

There was an expecting look on his face when you glanced over; a brow raised and a nod to his cock that seemingly reminded you of his demands. Balancing on his knees, Peter’s thighs pulsed, his taller height putting more weight on his muscles and making it look all the more sculpted as if he’d selfishly stolen limbs from Michelangelo’s workroom. Even though you’d seen Peter naked more times than you could count, you found yourself staring marvelously at his body. You never noticed how with every stroke of your hand, he sucked in his stomach, to pace his breathing, and his abdominal muscles would naturally divide into sharp, defined lines.

Somehow even more so, when he began thrusting into your fist.

As Peter helped you with one of your tasks, Jaime naturally found himself spreading his legs apart when you began lowering your head. You’d never admit it because out of context it sounded incredibly comical, but you loved cock. If you had to utilize the formal language of your essays, you’d say that you treasured it. It was one of the many reasons why Peter and Jaime loved having you around; why you found yourself on your knees after they returned from a long day of classes; why you’d gotten better at taking them down your throat because it’d become a daily practice, a hobby you’d reckon.

Because you knew how to appreciate a cock when you saw one, how to make love to one, and you would do anything to make your men feel at ease, even if it was at the cost of your own abandoned pleasure.

“So fucking big…” Your left hand continued to pump Peter’s cock while you shoved your face in between Jaime’s thighs, nuzzling and feeling the warmth of his balls loose over your nose. You inhaled his musk, repeating the deep whiffs of Jaime’s ball sweat, before taking his heavy sack into your mouth and suckling. Occasionally, you’d abandon his scrotum to lick at the underside of his cock as it laid thick and hard—pleading to be tended to—over his pelvis.

“Shit—fuck, I love it when you play with my balls like that...” You tugged on the stretchy skin with pressed lips to the base of the sack before taking him in again and rolling the spheres over the surface of your tongue like two gumdrops. You watched Jaime writhe as you tongued him, his stomach flattening and then puffing abruptly because he was precisely sensitive over the right side of his scrotum.

Jaime’s weak attempt at controlling himself from spilling a load right then and there was an example of how twitchy and overly-stimulated he could be if you found—played with—the right spot. Thankfully, he found the grace of God to hold it in and reminded himself to breathe; slow and methodical as he watched you with arousing awe.

He switched his gaze over to Peter hazing over you, and smirked. The hard gulps Peter would take, the stiffen of his jaw, the nostrils of his nose flaring up. He was blatantly jealous, scorched by the sun type of jealous, and Jaime got off on that, found himself growing impossibly harder knowing he was victorious in this moment.

Jaime was always good at reading people’s expressions. Even if they had tried to conceal it with a smile, their eyes told a different story. With your mind solely focused on pleasuring Jaime, your hand had gone limp despite still being wrapped around Peter’s own length.

“Just like that, fuck, baby.” Jaime reached down to affectionately pet at your head, a physical encouragement that stroked a delighted noise out of you, and you’d repeat until his hand gradually fell to the nape of your neck. By the desperate pulses of his hand, his palm slightly angling upwards to push your head forward; you’ve been with him long enough to recognize that he needed his cock sucked.

“Wait,” Peter abruptly spoke up, confident and authoritative, as you let Jaime’s balls go and bent forward an inch more, beginning to hover your mouth over Jaime’s cock.

You and Jaime curiously looked over. Your mouth parted open to ask him what was wrong, but Peter seized the opportunity to brush past your breath and invade your mouth with his cock, the abrupt aid of his hand surprising you as it leveled your head lower to meet his pelvis. “Just a little warm-up.”

“Peter—“ The gasp of his name was shoved down your throat, immediately coming back up as gargling instead since Peter offered you little time to prepare yourself. You heard Peter let out a strong exhale, his body melting into a limp once again when your mouth wrapped around the tip of his cock, then the first few inches of his erection the more he pushed your head down. You braced your hands against Jaime’s strong thighs, squeezing harder and harder when it became a struggle to take Peter’s thick cock.

Jaime would’ve called the pain at his thighs unpleasant; your dull nails digging painfully into his bronze flesh followed by a scratch; but all of that was forgiven because of the scene before him and how incredibly hard it made him. Like a scene found in one of his browser’s bookmarks, you were choking on a cock that was too big for you; on a cock that you pathetically had to warm up for before beginning to throat it deeper; on a cock that would be considered a miracle to shove it down your throat in the first place. For a brief second, Jaime had second thoughts on whether you’ve sucked anyone else’s dick but his own.

Peter offered you little patience, only pulling you back up to take a small breather because you begged him through an incoherent whine that could’ve easily been mistaken for a moan. After a few seconds, you were back downing on Peter’s cock as if you weren’t struggling to take him moments prior. It played out exactly like the plot of his favorite porn scene.

The feigned innocence, the porn star dick, the teary bottom; Jaime’s cock was dripping, envious of the sloppy and warm lathering that Peter was enduring, that Jaime was so close to experiencing again before Peter took it all away from him—because he was fucking jealous.

Jaime’s mouth fell open the exact moment Peter’s did when you pushed your head lower than you did previously, then lower, and it seemingly never stopped until your swollen lips flushed to the furry hairs of Peter’s pubes. “Holy shit, (M/N)…”

“Has he ever deep-throated you before? He’s getting better at it.” It was so nonchalant, Peter’s tone, as if he got to experience your glorious throat every single day. If Jaime digged deeper, he heard a cockiness to it as well.

Something possessed Jaime—a rapturing feeling that made his chest feel funny, his cheeks stain with red, his cock throb with fervor. That feeling again; jealousy.

“Yeah? Give me a try then, (M/N)?” Jaime wet his lips when a large dribble of drool rolled down the corner of your stretched mouth. He met eyes with you when you glanced, beckoning you with a wave of his thick cock then slapping it multiple times onto his palm. The loud smacks were like a spell, and he knew he succeeded when you pulled Peter’s cock out with a delicious slurp.

“Actually,” Peter’s grasp on your head hardened, turning it back to face his cock when his fingers swiped your chin, and shoved his cock back into your mouth, quickly before you could rouse a sympathy for Jaime. “Seems like he’s pretty occupied with something at the moment.”

“Seriously—“ Jaime watched with one brow raised, irritation written all over his face while stroking his cock to keep himself hard. Thankfully, you saved him from completely going flaccid as you replaced Jaime’s hand with your own, stroking him as you bobbed and sucked on Peter’s cock.

It only lasted a couple of minutes before Jaime got up, still clearly displeased, and for a minute, you’d thought he would’ve walked out right then and there, until he began standing next to Peter instead. You pulled away from Peter’s cock to take another breather, sitting flat on your bottom and then welcoming Jaime with a couple of strokes while your other hand worked at Peter’s cock at the same rhythm and pace.

“Since you’re getting so good, why don’t we introduce something new then?”

“What’s that? Am I sucking two dicks at once or something?” You joked, too distracted wiping the drool off your mouth with your forearm to notice Peter and Jaime exchanging a look that surprisingly wasn’t of malice. It was as if they hit jackpot. Their eyes brightened at the suggestion and the smallest creak of their smiles signaled a sinister connection that puzzled you.

They loved sexually tormenting you.

“Wait. Guys, I was just kidding—“

“If anyone could do it, it would be you.” Peter flashed you a grin, knocking on your lips with the tip of his cock as if it was an entrance to the warmest cock-furnace in town. “Come on.”

“Yeah. You always told me to try out my options first before deciding whether it wasn’t for me. Shouldn’t you follow your own advice?” Jaime hummed, Peter agreeing after, then joined Peter in his mischievous endeavors. He traced the outline of your lips with his cock, smearing your plump flesh with his pre-cum.

You were apprehensive, looking up at them as they straighten their posture in anticipation. Their cocks stood heavy and intimidating, weighing heavily on your lips, and you were sure if you opened up your mouth in this moment, they would certainly take the opportunity to push past your complaints and fuck your throat again.

“Make me a deal, then.” The salt of Jaime’s cock compelled you to speak, offering him the tiniest licks because you felt bad for abandoning his cock earlier. With your tongue offering him little resonance, Jaime rolled his shoulders back to get some kind of fixture, as frustrating as it was.

“What’s that?” Peter asked, greedily pressing the head of his own cock to Jaime’s so he was spared a few licks of your tongue. It was almost distracting—how the plump tips of Jaime’s and Peter’s cock connected together in thick, web-like strands. You felt yourself give in for a moment, taking both of their cocks into your hands—one in each respective grasp—and mouthed the swollen glans while speaking.

“No more fighting for the rest of the night. And if we’re ever doing this again,” You realized you had the power to control them all along, the power to make them succumb to your demands because without your mouth, who else would they go to? “You guys are going to make amends and be friends. Deal?”

“Deal.” They collectively agreed in unison, a quite comical interaction that you were confident they were going to reel back on their promise once you squeezed a load or two out of them; their minds would be cleared and their decisions wouldn’t be drawn by the simple promise of sex.

“Fuck,” You couldn’t help but compare their cocks as your hands stroked them down in your spit, coating them in a glossy sheen that caught the light above. It was glorious seeing their cocks in this position, with Peter and Jaime towering over you, their cocks sticky and wet from your spit. “Wish you could see what I’m witnessing right now.”

You were envious that they only had one subject in their center of vision. You had to constantly alternate between Jaime and Peter to make sure one wasn’t feeling neglected. If you presumed they did, you’d recompense through a cycle of sucking their cocks, playing with their balls, slapping their dicks on your face, tongue included, until your cheeks were covered in your own spit.

Whatever they wanted, you’d do it for them because you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing your boys were unhappy.

Peter’s dick was a spitting image of one of those famous male porn stars that you recalled obsessing over; a strong curve to the length with the girth thickening towards the head; it was always a struggle to fit him inside of you. If you had to be modest, you’d call it a handsome cock as natural veins pumped throughout his cock, making it evidently clear where all the blood was rushing to; a natural eye-widener, and a throat closer, for everyone.

Peter liked making sure your face was free of any anomalies. Whether the number of obscurities were the bad lighting in the room, casting shadows in place that masked your mouth, to the locks of hair covering the tiniest bit of your face; you were a wonderful performer that needed to be seen, and Peter was here to ensure that, especially with a guest in the room.

His eyes casted over you while you went down his cock under the control of his palms. He liked having you follow his rhythm, follow the pace of his urges. If he wanted for you to focus your tongue on the head of his cock, then he’d pull you back at his own time and make sure to pull his hips back whenever you needed a fix of something more. If he wanted you to deep-throat him until you couldn’t breathe, he’d make sure you were on your very last grasp of life before you turned blue.

The sound of your saliva building and welling up in the back of your throat was a beautiful noise to him, one he could hear in his sleep and happily have wet dreams of. You sucked on his cock, slobbered over the weight of it through several coughing fits and chokes, and you made sure to look up at Peter with tears in your eyes, seeking for some kind of approval. He breathed out slow, seemingly controlling himself from spilling all over you right then and there, and found that if he didn’t stop himself now, then you’d never get to Jaime. When he told you to open your mouth and pant with your tongue out like a fucking animal, a wide and dark smile spread across his face. It wouldn’t be absolute control if he didn’t succeed in humiliating you.

“Good boy,” Peter bent over to slap you hard on the ass, a loud echoing smack resonating in the room. You winched, but nonetheless smiled up at him because Peter approved of your skills. “Now, make me proud.” He sent you off with a kiss, roughly patting the side of your cheek where his cock once bulged through, and did you the favor of shoving your mouth down on Jaime’s cock with no warning.

For Jaime, it was as if his own uncut cock couldn’t handle the weight and mass of his meat, making it naturally curve downwards that made it less difficult for you to slide him down your throat. What he lacked in length, he massively over-compensated in thickness and girth. A prominent vein ran down the center, and it made your heart skip a few stones or two when you realized the thick blood vessel was the reason why he built up a delectable amount of pre-cum.

The definition of control was interpreted differently between the two men. Where Peter forced you to suck his cock and move at his own pace, Jaime preferred constraining your head in between his palms and force you to take his cock, like you were some kind of blow-up doll. With a slightly bent posture to properly fit himself into your mouth, Jaime hooked one thumb at the corner of your mouth and stretched it open to accommodate his girth, and fucked into your warm mouth. Your knees felt bruised, burning in agony as you took every one of Jaime’s heavy and selfish fucks with absolutely no complaints. You clenched your eyes tight when he hit a little too hard at the back of your throat, then again, and again, because he loved how you sounded when his cock dented into you. He also loved how you couldn’t contain yourself and let an endless amount of saliva waterfall from your tongue and mouth, making it all the easier to slide down your throat.

“Fuck yeah, dude…” Peter was in awe. You felt one of his fingers toy with the pucker of your hole after he took a scoop of your saliva and spread it over the length. In circular motions, Peter was teasing in his endeavors, chuckling to himself as he felt you clench at the tiniest appeasement. “Think he likes how you’re fucking his mouth.”

“Yeah? There’s room for two, you know.” It was the most they’ve exchanged conversations since the last time they saw each other in class; although this time, it was a much more pleasant interaction. Jaime pressed his cock to the right side of your mouth, and you whined, giving his thigh a slap because it was a strange and uncomfortable sleeping. He pacified you with a couple of head rubs, then briefly taking his cock out for you to recover your breath.

“Let’s move to the bed, my knees hurt…” You grumbled while simultaneously catching up on your breath. You didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer as you already made your way into your bedroom with footsteps following you from behind.

It only took a few seconds for the three of you to work out your positions; Peter and Jaime laid flat on the bed, with each men taking the opposite end, similar to a bridge. Their legs tangled, thighs sat atop of one another, Peter’s feet at Jaime’s head and vice versa, and ballsacks pressed with the cocks facing towards the respective owner. You were the interconnecting piece, the final key in completing the puzzle, as you sat by the side of their hips. You had Peter on your left and Jaime on your right, jerking them off with your respective hand.

“Comfy?” You asked both of them, nonchalant in tone as you briefly went down to lick at the precum dribbling down Jaime’s cock, then to Peter’s as you caught the strong pulses of his length at the corner of your eye.

“Very much…” Jaime sighed, mirroring Peter’s position and cushioning his head with his arm. Contrary to how they’ve been treating you and your mouth, their gaze had softened as they’d been watching you. Peter had his warm palm running continuously down your spine, while Jaime’s arm traversed around you to take his time in teasing your hole with a finger, slow and sweet like the taunting delicacy of your tongue.

“So fucking big…” You marveled when you pressed their stiff cocks together and stroked out a groan from either one of them. The lights of your eyes dilated into sparkles because you could barely wrap your hand around them with this one grasp, and out of curiosity, you squeezed to impossibly squish them together, effectively earning a needy rut of their hips from Peter, then Jaime, and your throat caught a profanity because it was the hottest thing ever.

Stiff veins pressed into one another and Jaime’s precum made it too slippery for you to properly hold him and Peter without one of them slipping out of your hand. You were growing impatient, and you could see it in their eyes that they were too. Jaime’s was pleading for some kind of warmth, while Peter’s was almost threatening, as if he was about to pass out any second.

After a couple more taunting strokes, you gave in and appeased them. You lowered yourself, smelling the sweat and musk that both the men heavily extruded through the slurry of pure sex, and shoved both of their cocks into your mouth. At least, you attempted to.

“Oh, fuck—“ Jaime’s eyes widened, then tightly closed because he was overwhelmed.

“Shit…” Peter muttered under his breath, the words leaving his mouth open because he’d only seen this in porn scenes.

It disappointed you, you couldn’t possibly fit them inside of your mouth except for the heads. If only you had a bigger mouth, or maybe knew how to disjoint your jaw muscles to somehow fit them both completely in—but you didn’t. Despite the limitations, you settled on fitting the heads of their cocks and suckling. As your tongue ran over Peter’s bulbous head, then Jaime’s thick glans, you made sure you were stroking what you couldn’t find in your mouth. Instead of lamenting over the loss of a stretch, you marveled at the way it felt when you wrapped your mouth around the glans, then at the way their dicks rubbed against one another desperately, imperfect in rhythms because Peter and Jaime were selfish in their own pursuit of your mouth.

“So fucking hot, god…” Your internal thoughts came out in a moan, slapping their cocks on your tongue as you stared longingly at each one of them, wanting this very scene to seep into their mind and allow you to be the defining example of a cock whore.

You then pulled away to dribble bubbles of spit over their needy cocks, lubing them each until you proceeded to struggle to fit them inside of your mouth, only barely being able to push your lips past their heads. You knew they liked watching you struggle, watching you do your best to pleasure them, and it was mutual benefit because you liked having the attention all on you.

“Need to fuck you…” Jaime demands almost came out as a whine, and you found it absolutely adorable considering his meat was weighting heavily on your tongue.

“Fuck, baby, me too… I need to fuck your hole.” There was frustration pent up in Peter’s voice, and he took it out on the grasp he had on your ass, kneading your left cheek until you could mentally picture a handprint on your skin. You winched, pushing out to relieve some of the sting, but Jaime’s hand abruptly smacking down on your right cheek rutted you back.

“Only if you guys promise to dump your loads in me.” You moaned, feeling someone’s finger climbing into your hole again and pump inside of you. Then another, spreading and curling the two joined digits. And another, three now, pumping at a slower rhythm, because your tightening walls were restricting their movements. Peter’s gaze darkened, because he swore you were clenching on purpose to taunt him.

“As if there was any other option on the table?” Peter questioned, rising to sit on his knees, and Jaime would later join.

“His hole’s made to be filled with cum.” Jaime added with a smoldering expression, flipping you onto your stomach, then provided proof of his comments by spreading your ass cheeks out until you felt completely vulnerable and exposed. You resisted with a few clenches, but Jaime’s grasp on your ass cheeks was forceful stronger; there was a gratification that helmed his palms as he showed off your pucker to Peter. You felt something wet flatten against your opening, rearing you with inquisitive licks and prods like it was searching for something inside of you, “Tastes good.” Opening you further like its intention was to make your body writhe in toe-curling and ass-pushing exaltation. Your back arched into the mattress and you spread your knees further apart, gyrating your hips into the thick, musky air because the slightest draft made your cock harden and tremble with a whimper.

“Fuck, look how tight he is too…” You moaned when Peter curiously slid two lubed fingers into you despite being well acquainted with the tight cavity once Jaime pivoted to licking at your taint, then the base of your balls. The opening of your legs provided enough space for Jaime to sneak his head in between them and take your cock into his mouth to suck you off, holding you steady at the base.

“J-Jaime, fuck—Peter!“ His mouth was warm, strangely comforting, and whimper inducing. You felt yourself sink onto your knees and lie pliantly as you let him take you, as you let Peter invade you with two more fingers; a total of four digits pumping inside of you now; though you made sure to lift your hips up to leave enough room for the man who’s been slobbering all over your erection.

If only you had eyes at the back of your head so you could witness Peter and Jaime touching themselves, so you could watch Peter’s mouth gape open when he slid his large lubed cock into as if he hadn’t done that countless times prior, so you could see how Jaime’s free-hand guided Peter’s hips to push further into you because they both were well-aware how accommodating your hole can be. It was a struggle to even fit the head of his cock into you, like you’d expected, but you were thankful for Jaime as he gave Peter the push he needed.

“Oh, fuck,” You strained, gathering yourself onto your forearms to toughen out the discomfort—practically planking—as Peter breached himself into you moaning at the tightness, then began moving his hips.

Slow and steady, you felt more of Peter residing into you with every thrust, rocking your own hips to thrust into Jaime’s mouth. It was a messy, interlocking of sweaty bodies, but you couldn’t have asked for anything better. Jaime’s tongued swirled around you, inhaling and working you with a greedy tongue. When he pulled off with an audible pop, you felt his saliva dripping off of the span of your cock in heavy webs, that were then used to lather up his own cock before rolling off the bed to stand before you. He tipped your head back, making you look up at him flushed and intoxicated from Peter’s quickening thrusts, and pushed his cock back inside your warm mouth in one smooth slide.

You didn’t know where to dispose your moans now that your mouth was filled. Once Peter efficiently picked up his pace, he steadied his balance with a firm grip on your hips; the left lag was braced on its knee while his right leg was heeled on the mattress, fucking his cock into you deeper with his new position.”Fuck, I could watch you take my cock all day.”

Your cheeks were hot as your moans ballooned nowhere but around Jaime’s cock. Whimpers and joyful noises vibrated around him as you sucked his cock off, and you’d occasionally lose your balance when you tried to stroke whatever you couldn’t fit inside of your mouth, but you caught yourself before you could fall flat onto your face. You didn’t want to waste a single second of not both of your holes filled.

“Fuck yeah, keep fucking him like that.” Jaime exhaled, reaching out to fist-bump Peter as there was a mutual indulgence the two provided for each other. His body was slick with sweat when you noticed droplets of heat running down his muscles. He pumped out a few puffs of breath when he fucked into your mouth quick and desperate, enveloping and pressing your head to his abdomen to keep you steady, to keep his cock from falling out of your mouth because you had a habit of pushing him out whenever he pushed past your limits. Your field of vision was basically hidden as you stared into nothing but Jaime’s trimmed pubic hairs, your passive mouth sore and hurting, and your cock was equally sore—dripping on its own accord now—because you found it so incredibly alluring to be used thoughtlessly like this; Peter selfishly driving himself into you, panting because he was close, and Jaime pushing back into your gags with eager ruts of his hips, a tolerance that you knew would have you sore tomorrow morning, but a fucking comfort to know that you pleasured the two men with your own body.

“Switch.” Peter and Jaime exchanged positions once they knocked out a low high-five. It was on your own terms to flip yourself onto your back in the meantime, hanging your head off the foot of the bed for Peter to mouth-fuck you while you bent your legs up to your chest in anticipation of Jaime. Peter cooed, petting your spit-wet cheeks before leveling himself to meet his cock to your lips, then pushing your mouth open. It was adorable to see how you knew your place without a single spoken demand. “Mm, fuck—Jaime kept you warm and nice for me.”

“Can say the same for you, Pete.” At nearly the same time, Jaime supported himself by using the back of your thighs as leverage, squeezing a glorious amount of lube over his cock before pushing into you. Within the first slide, you were reminded of how thick he was from the way you were too distracted to suck Peter off and let your mouth agape, croaking out a discomforting moan. “Fuck, he’s warm.” He didn’t waste to time in letting you adjust to his size, because—well—Peter did the work for you, and began burying himself deep and close to that certain spot that never failed to send tremors down to the bone of your body.

Jaime snapped his hips with precision, the loud claps of sweating skin snipping at each other being one audible evidence of his experience with you. Your thighs and ass rippled sharply, then your muscles stretched as he pushed forward to fold your knees to your chest and slot his cock into you with momentum, gravitational force pounding him down into you like ocean waves crashing onto shore. Every time his impact moved you an inch off the bed, he brought you back with a tug at your thighs because he needed to be close to you. He needed to watch you gag on Peter’s cock, your throat struggling to close around his girth when it was sheathed deep enough for Peter to bulge through. When it occurred, Jaime showered delicate kisses to the center of your throat, moaning when he could feel the span of Peter moving inside of you, and then feel your throat constrict when he pulled out in a slow slide to draw out your breath for a little longer, to watch you desperately inhale for fresh air.

“Do that again.” Jaime couldn’t resist his temptations, caressing your chest and stomach because it had been flexing the entire time Peter and him had been fucking into you. The darkest desires compelled him to roam his hand towards your neck and wrap it around while Peter buried himself down your compliant throat again, and he squeezed his hand around you, your eyes clenched following the added pressure, while your throat locked around Peter’s juicy cock. Your gags lodged, bubbly in agony because they had nowhere to escape, until Peter pulled himself out what felt like minutes away of seeing the stars, and you immediately spilled into desperate intakes of breath, panting yet moaning because you had never felt such an intense adrenaline rush in your entire life.

Dragging his balls across your face, Peter loved seeing you sexually tormented like this. Red in the face as the blood rushed to your head, delirious on the sole entity of cock, winded through staggered pants as he had you gagging down his cock as if he had a lifetime warranty on your throat. It was beautiful; your words slurred because you were too exhausted to form coherent sentences and he’d use that as leverage, asking you to repeat yourself knowing that he’d deprived you of oxygen. Almost always, despite the promise that he’d let you catch your breath, all of that is thrown in the gutter when Peter sheathed his cock back down your throat like a man who had been cut off of your services cold-turkey, returning back with a vengeance, and as a man who had become a fiend for pleasure.

Jaime and Peter cheered like frat boys you’d see in porn, laughed because you looked so adorable when you asked for a small break; your cheeks were guttered with tears and your voice scattered into puzzled cracks. It was hard to resist coddling you with praises and affectionate kisses, even had they turn up their demeanors to an eleven. You would always be someone they treasured.

“You did fucking great, (M/N), god…” Peter was awe-stricken, rewarding you with a kiss on the lips to breathe life back into you, briefly holding your head up so he could unfurl the clouds until they dissipated for the time being.

“Mmf…” You thought you were a lot stronger than this, but your muscled had turned into jelly. Jaime slowed his thrusts down when he noticed how limb you’ve gotten and he figured stroking your cock again would do wonders for your peace of mind. “Need…” You muttered something under your breath, and for a moment, the two men paused because they thought you’d had enough and wanted to stop.

“Hm?” Jaime did his best to control his hips, panting. Judging by the death grip on your hips, it was obvious he was nearing his climax.

“Need you two…” You groaned out, replacing Jaime’s hand with yours as you switched your gaze between Peter and Jaime, collectively begging for them with the yearning gaze in your eyes. “Need you two in my ass, fuck…”

“God, you know how to make a man happy.” Peter laughed, breathing a sigh of relief, and you swore his cock had grown bigger at the simple thought of sheathing himself inside of you again. “Up, up.” You lifted yourself with the help of Jaime’s embrace when Peter positioned himself under you, and then Jaime lifted your legs up and hooked them over his shoulders, angling your ass out just right after pulling out.

Jaime did most of the work as he was the only one kneeling, whistling an impressive note when your gaping hole was exposed to him, and for his viewing only. “If only you could see this, Peter.” He prepped you and Peter with a generous amount of lube, then himself, chuckling as he stroked himself to the expanded opening of your hole. “We stretched him out real good.”

“Fuck, won’t be too difficult to fit us in then.” It was a rhetorical question that you knew the answer to, and you could feel Peter mischievously smiling into the back of your neck as if he told the funniest joke in the history of mankind.

Peter’s arms traversed around you, his palms reaching to hold your ass open while Jaime intruded into you first. The lube made his entrance a lot easier than the first time and you immediately welcomed his meaty cock with a tight suction, holding his thrusts as you felt the bulbous tip of Peter’s cock prodding around for a gateway into you.

It was a slow and methodical approach. For them, it was more important for you to feel comfortable instead of potentially letting the consequences of rushing everything ruin your experience.You felt flustered, overwhelmed, and your body followed in pursuit as you felt a stretch you’d never dealt with before. The hairs on your body stiffened. Heat spread throughout your body in hot splotches and left your cock limp and flaccid, spidering from beneath layers of skin until goosebumps raised from the sweat when you felt Peter trying get inside of you.

“Peter—oh, fuck—“ Your voice caught in your throat as you tried to open up for him despite the buzzing pain. You were pacified, and then encouraged by the deft of Jaime and Peter’s comforting hands. A pair of Jaime’s calloused hands ran over your legs, then thighs, then stomach, all over your body, to get you to relax your muscles. Another pair massaged your thighs, Peter’s; he whispered sweet and calming encouragements in your ear, dousing the strain of your neck in tiniest kisses while he attempted another push to fit himself in.

“Let me in, come on… We’ll take care of you.” Peter never lied. You trusted him. You trusted him to not hold it against you if you couldn’t. If you decided to stop because it was too painful. You let out a few nervous breaths, your stomach flexing, and then came Jaime, rallying your will with wet yet delicate kisses, just the way you liked it, as a way to distract you. Little by little, you felt yourself give in, your muscles slacking the more they touched you everywhere, including your cock again. Your body was burning with heat not because of apprehension, but because they couldn’t take their hands off of you. You felt deified, like a god as Peter clamped his lips around your neck, his strong hands kneading at your ass, while Jaime moaned into your mouth, electrified by the sweet taste of your wet tongue.

You breathed.

You met Jaime’s gaze, then turned to kiss Peter on the lips after meeting his, moaning as Jaime began thumbing the head of your cock.

You trusted them.

Your mouth alternated from Peter’s to Jaime’s in a heavy and tense session. Greedy tongues reaching for whatever was laid before them, and you were sure Jaime and Peter briefly made out because they were so fucking lost in the heat of it all. Their passion and lust had poured a newfound energy into you within a cycle of heavy kisses. Tongues worshiped your body from the neck and shoulders down, and you felt weightless.

And you let Peter in.

Slowly, your hole stretched to accommodate the incoming cock, and you let out the most heart-swelling and cock-hardening groan when you felt the fattest part of Peter’s glans breached you, then a yelp when the entire cock-head slipped inside of you abruptly.

“There we go, shh…” Peter’s hand ran down your arms, a sincere attempt to stabilize and calm the trembles in your body. His lips remained attached to the shell of your ear, whispering words that had gone from one ear, scrambling letters into gibberish in the process, and then out the other. “Slowly…” Peter said, more so to remind Jaime, and he nodded with assurance.

They gave you a second to recover while you held tight to Jaime’s shoulders. Sweat trickled down your chest, your spine, framed your forehead in droplets, as you rode the wave of pain. After subsiding the gut-wrenching pain with a few deep breathes, you gave them a nod, giving them the pass to continue.

“Fuck,” Jaime wished you didn’t press your face into his neck as you were sandwiched between the two of them. There was nothing more attractive than watching you suffer, as morbid as it sounded. He thought you looked beautifully broken, sounded beautiful too as you whimpered when either one of them moved their hips. With slow and methodical ruts, they gradually felt you relax with the occasional jerks. Peter’s cock slipped deeper into you when Jaime thrusted out, and gradually, they found a rhythm that worked for your comfort, opening you, stretching you out as their cocks rubbed stiffly against one another. “Feels so good—“

“You’re amazing, baby.” Peter assured you, a motivation for you to loosen your muscles again. He held your ass apart to ease their combative motions in, and once you let go through the careful and spoken truths that Jaime and Peter kept praising you with, the fear that you had latched onto and kept vaulted in the rigid of your body seemingly had been let go—thrust by thrust, you felt yourself opening up and things got much easier for you.

You panted, shoving yourself down and back so you were fully impaled on the cocks fucking you, confronting your fear and winning for Jaime and Peter. You have two cocks inside of you, taking two cocks whole, fucking your tight hole and spreading you open. You reminded yourself because it felt like a dream, whimpering when Jaime began going balls deep with every thrust, and Peter would follow in pursuit, holding your weight up and your ass open.

Finally, you felt your cock harden again; the span of it springing into a familiar mass, taunting Jaime to move faster as your cock throbbed when he came down onto you, then a few dribbles of precum leaked when Peter came up. They let out a moan when they met in sync, occasionally fucking you with their cocks as one big mass, their voice rattled with rapture because you were taking them in so well, so inviting despite your ability to clench and hold around them. You don’t, because you were fucking free, wiggling your hips without a thought, without a single rhythm in debt to your ass, and the only beat you follow was the sound of your heart as it began to accelerate.

You can hear it soar, decibels rushing loud and alarming in your ears as they fucked and fucked more into you. Cocks rubbed as one, then Peter would purposely delay because he loved burying himself into you as a single unit, grounding your hips to him because you were his first, and you heard shards of spirit break into a gazillion pieces, a barrier that had protected your sanity.

All of that had exploded, fireworked itself into shooting stars when Peter doesn’t waste a second to pound up into you, his breath fogging the back of your neck, then your shoulder when he hooked over his chin to kiss you again, swallowing your whimpers to turn them into his own delectable moans.

Forget holding your legs back, Peter abandoned them and you were on your own, your limbs relying on your own core strength as you struggled to hold them up, while his cock drive madly into you, Jaime’s chasing after in equal, heavy ruts.

“I’m gonna cum—fuck.” You huffed, closing your eyes because you were so close. You felt yourself getting closer relying on the thought that you hadn’t even touched your cock because you were so distracted, so well-fucked that you didn’t need to be touched.

Like that, just like that, keep fucking me like that. And just like that, you cried out and your cock throbbed once, signaling a fountain of cum that would then shoot out of you like lava seconds after, and your pucker would clamp around their cocks moving inside of you, pounding into you. Thick ropes of cum landed over your chest, then on your face when the impact of their thrusts was forceful enough to give it some height, and your hole throbbed around their joined cocks because you relieved yourself with a throat-cutting shudder, goosebumps returning back to form from head to toe.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—“ Jaime repeated himself, fucking into you harder, deeper, faster. You felt his heavy pants on your chest when he leaned down to taste your cum, and then witnessed his eyes roll back when the taste was heavenly, a creamy merit that made the ache in his back worth it because you tasted so fucking good. You looked so fucking good, exhausted and melted, taking two cocks in you at once without a single complaint.

“Fuck.”

Jaime’s hands gripped your hips harder, and he let out a deep groan, burying his thick cock deep into you as he came. The weight of Jaime’s strong pulses drew multiple moans out of Peter, bursts of pleasure inflicting on the latter as he fucked into the hot flood of cum, fucking you sloppily with his cum-lathered cock, fucking alongside Jaime’s sensitive and swollen glans, vaulting it from leaking out of you.

It wouldn’t be long until Peter was triggered to let loose as well and spare you of his own thick loads with a raspy groan. He snapped his hips upwards once when he came, then delivered another hard snap to push out multiple strong and thick loads, and then another for good measure, because he was obsessed with how it felt to have his cock drowning in the creamy and warm mixture of his cum and Jaime’s. Your pucker throbbed, both of them completely breached inside of you to the hilt of their cocks, and your ass felt so fucking full—so fucking raw—knowing that you were double-stuffed with endless streams of their cum loads.

“Guys…” Your voice trembled, your muscles giving out as your legs dropped from fatigue, but they wouldn’t stop moving their cocks in you, sloshing their thick cum inside of you. Once your legs dropped, you felt a river of cum dribbling out of you, cold in its journey out of your ass, and you shivered despite being sandwiched by two warm bodies. “Mmf, tired…”

One by one, they slipped out of you. Peter first, whimpering because he rubbed his sensitive cock against Jaime’s during its removal, making him twitch and shudder. Then Jaime, unwilling at first because you were so warm, but nonetheless unsheathed himself out because he was curious.

You didn’t know what they were doing, nor did you care, because exhaustion had caught up to you, reminding you that you barely had slept the night before, and now the physical strain on your body only added more to the overwhelming drive it could barely handle. You rolled flat on your stomach, nose-dived into the pillows, and then whined because a pair of hands wouldn’t stop kneading at your ass, spreading them wide open for your hole to expose itself.

And when you looked back over your shoulder, Jaime and Peter had their phones out, snapping photos of your violated hole; gaping and raw, and breached as cum was spilling out of it like a leak. It was the fucking hottest thing for them, mouth-watering, and when you scoffed and scanned their sweaty bodies, you swore their dicks twitched.

“You fucking rockstar.” Peter laughed, love-tapping your asscheek before joining you by your side. His hand never left your ass, a strong urge to relieve the pain, if you still had any, with comforting rubs and squeezes.

“Didn’t hurt you too much?” Jaime asked, smoothening his palm along your spine.

You silently shook your head, murmuring. “It was a good bonding exercise, don’t you think?” They laughed, and for a brief moment, Peter and Jaime exchanged a cordial look towards each other, approving the other with a firm nod.

“To new beginnings.”

Jaime joined you from behind, feeling an arm traverse from under your stomach, and pulled you closer until you were on your side and he was spooning you. You could hear both of their heartbeats running at full pace, then slowing as they sank their heads into the pillows, their breathing becoming shallow as they were just beginning to recover from their exertions. Gradually, Peter’s hand stopped rubbing your ass and after you looked back to see if Jaime was asleep, so was Peter, drifting off with a warmth that you wished would stick by you for eternity.

“To new beginnings...”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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blueathens · 2 years

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TASM!Peter Parker

Attention: Requests are closed.

M A S T E R L I S T

"Really? You Seriously Think I'm A Cop? In A Skin-Tight Red And Blue Suit?"

B L U R B S

-Coming Soon-

I M A G I N E S

Lovers Who Weren’t Meant To Be ↬ A story about two lovers who fall out of love.

Love, Taylor - Fics Inspired By Taylor Swift Songs.

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l13 · 10 months

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♡miguel x reader x peter♡

a part 2 to this drabble

word count: around 3,1k

WARNINGS : NSFW 18+ ONLY, NO use of y/n, f!reader, voyeurism, cheating (peter on mj), HINTS on miguel x peter but nothing actually happens, blowjob (m receiving), masturbation, making out, swearing, spitting?(not really, YOU'LL SEE OK), miguel loves humiliating peter, miguel gets jealous and territorial very easily, lazy writing, also my first time writing anything close to a threesome so please be kind

a/n: SO SORRY this took so fucking long but I hope that y'all will still enjoy reading it<3

English is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any misspells, errors or grammatically incorrect sentences.

“Fuck, shit, fuck” Peter struggles to pull his pants back up as he turns around swiftly, a hand securely holding on to the front of his sweats as he gulps nervously “Miguel, my man! Fancy seeing you here… look, it’s not what it-”

“Cut the shit, Peter.” Miguel says with crossed arms, “At least have the balls to face the consequences of your… perversions.” he would have looked intimidating if it weren’t for his disheveled look–hair messy, chest rising and falling rapidly (who's he kidding, peter was still scared shitless).

“Wh-huh? I- no, you got it wrong-haha! That’s funny, though! Look- I’m just gonna go-”

“You’re gonna stay where you are.”

“Yup, staying right here.” Peter purses his lips, and he really hopes the outline of his bulge isn't that visible. (it was)

Miguel rolls his eyes, turning around and caressing your cheek as he whispers something against your ear. Peter tries to crane his neck to catch a clearer picture of you despite himself, but with that hunk of a man in front of you, it was a lost call.

You were nervous. Understandably so. Miguel’s words, when you were too busy cumming around his cock merely minutes ago, echoed in your head.

“Yeah, baby?S good, right? So perfect for me baby, fuck. Seems like you got what you wanted after all.” you had furrowed your eyebrows, confused, barely able to keep your eyes open, but when Miguel pointed his thumb at a nearby monitor with the camera surveillance of the place shining bright, with a figure right in the middle, you'd understood what he meant. And you'd liked it.

You cock your head to the side now, as you come to stand next to Miguel, grinning bashfully at Peter, who was looking at you with a gaping mouth. You’d laugh at the way he failed to cover his bulge with his hand, but you were too nervous to do so, so you decided to ignore the act altogether, even if it made your insides flip, “Hi, Peter.”

Jesus Christ, your voice. “Yellow-he-Hi!” Peter’s mouth was so dry, he doesn’t know how he managed to reply. Was after-sex-glow a thing? Because, fuck, you were glowing. There was this flush covering your cheeks and Peter thinks he wants to kiss you all over. Without even realizing it, his feet begin taking him over to you two. But not even a step in, and he’s very rudely interrupted.

“What are you doing?” Miguel’s tone is calm, and yet gives Peter an eerie sensation at the back of his neck that makes him swallow nervously, stopping in his tracks. “Uh- well, I just thought-”

“You thought wrong.” Miguel says blankly.

Peter flushes, seemingly understanding what Miguel planned to do, and takes multiple steps back till his back hits the wall behind him. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. “I- I don’t-”

“What? You didn’t actually think I was going to let you come anywhere near her?” Miguel’s laugh is cruel, and tears well in Peter’s eyes at the underlying humiliation.

“Don’t be mean,” you mutter against Miguel’s ear, your hands circling around his waist as you hug him, your eyes never leaving Peter’s. Yeah, Peter thought, don’t be mean, bitch.

Miguel softens under your touch, draping his arm over your shoulder to bring you impossibly closer, suddenly very aware of his own still very hard cock. He starts pressing kisses along your forehead, your cheeks, your jaw, and you smile as you nuzzle against him. “Oh baby, you’re still hard, aren’t you? How selfish of me,” you didn’t sound sorry at all. But neither Miguel nor Peter cared.

Oh yeah, Peter was still very much here. Cock throbbing and all.

“Stop teasing, bebita,” Miguel hisses, his eyes fluttering as he ruts his hips against you, the smallest of whimpers escaping his lips. Peter would have laughed if Miguel’s voice didn’t make the sound hot. Another fact about Miguel that pissed him off, because when Peter whimpers, it sounds pathetic.

Peter drops his hand over his bulge, groaning under his breath when he squeezes himself over his pants, finally getting some much needed friction.

To Peter’s utter horror, that was the moment that Miguel remembered that he was still in the room, and Peter froze when Miguel’s eyes met his, goosebumps rising all over his body when Miguel’s gaze dropped to his covered cock. Fuck. “Touch yourself for all I care, but know that this is the first and last time I’m letting you in on this. The next time I catch you creeping on her, I’ll kill you.” Well, that was not at all what Peter expected. How horrible, and assertive. Not at all arousing.

Peter cleared his throat, “Kill me. Yeah. Yup. No, yeah, I got it.”

You laugh softly, your own hand dropping to palm Miguel over his suit, “Don’t worry, he’s all bark and no bite,”

Miguel tries hard to hide the slight tremble in his voice at the slight contact you gave him, “Is that so?”. He dropped his head, breath fanning across your neck, “Wanna test that theory?”. Both men smile when your breath hitches, Peter staring hard, and finally pulling his cock out. He inhales sharply when he wraps his hand around himself, so desperately wanting to close his eyes and fuck his fist till he comes, but keeps them open so as not to miss the show you so generously were putting in front of him. His eyes follow Miguel’s movements, as he bends to lick across your neck, biting down on your skin a second later, both men letting out sounds of appreciation as you moan.

Peter jerks his cock at a slow pace, eyes hooded, matching the tempo at which the tension builds up. He feels sick doing this, but he can’t help but let the pleasure take his mind off of the guilt that’s ready to eat him up, choosing to focus on how your throat bobs as you swallow, your lips forming a pretty 'o' as you lace your fingers through Miguel’s hair, mewling when he grazes his teeth over your collarbones.

Miguel presses the softest of kisses on the spot he’d previously bitten, and says, “On your knees, baby.” Peter is lightheaded by the pure sex dripping from Miguel’s voice, his cock twitching under his palm, and he squeezes his hand around the base of it, slowly bringing it up to circle around his tip, openly panting like a bitch in heat.

Seeing you drop to your knees was a sight Peter never thought he’d ever see, but one that he was very thankful for. From this angle, you gave Peter the perfect view of your profile. You were grinning, your expression a bit hazy, a bit cockdrunk. The tank top you were wearing looked crinkled, and Peter wondered if Miguel had the material bunched up over your tits while he was fucking you.

Peter stares as you grab at Miguel’s thighs over his suit, squeezing the flesh appreciatively as you look up at him expectedly. God, you were begging to get fucked again. Wait- over his suit? Miguel was still wearing his suit, how the fuck-

As if Peter was voicing his thoughts out loud, the material of Miguel’s suit disappeared slowly, his cock springing up, balls dropping the slightest bit from the secure hold they were being kept up by the tightness of the suit. The start of his thighs and his belly were also exposed, pretty bronze skin a perfect contrast to the deep blue color of his suit.

“What the fuck was that?!” Peter can't help but let out, and Miguel throws him a proud smirk, “Nanotech,” You smile at the small nerdy exchange, too preoccupied to properly join in the conversation. Miguel’s pleasure was above everything else. You wrap your hand around his thick cock, moaning softly as you trace the veins on the side, bending down to kiss and suck on his fat balls. “Makes things easier-ah fuuuck,” Miguel bites on his lower lip roughly, brows furrowing as he bucks into your hand, hand caressing the side of your jaw gently. You looked so fucking beautiful.

Peter drops his other hand to fondle his balls, suddenly jealous, and throws his head back against the wall, groaning as he still keeps his eyes open to watch you.

Five minutes later, Peter was still copying your movements. When you licked at Miguel’s tip, dragging your tongue over the head, and lapping up the precum greedily, Peter made sure he only touched his tip as well, circling and rolling his hand over the head. When you licked the sides of Miguel’s cock, your hand following the same pattern just under your tongue, Peter was jerking his cock in perfect synchronization, mimicking your technique entirely. He could practically taste the pleasure Miguel was getting.

During all this, Peter couldn’t hold back his voice. He moaned and groaned shamelessly, raising his hips to meet his hand sloppily. Fuck, he was so close to coming.

Miguel was truly no better, he was just better at masking it. He constantly gritted his teeth, hissing at your antics, but the occasional moan would slip, and it always made your pussy throb, as if you could feel it vibrating against you.

You take Miguel’s cock in your mouth with no warning, the tip touching your throat as you swallow around him, nose touching the base of his cock, your eyes tearing up quickly. Both men sputter at the sudden action. Miguel moans loudly, his belly flexing as he bends over you, fingers threading between your hair.

Peter almost comes right then and there, the movement of his hand on his cock so fast and rough, that it was creating a lewd wet sound “S-shit, you look so good, sweet thingmff fuuck. Yeah-like that, Oh my God,”

Both yours and Miguel’s heads snap up, surprised by Peter’s outburst. Miguel raises an eyebrow, his jaw locking. Was this asshole really imagining he was in his place? Well, he couldn’t exactly blame him, but it still pissed him off. When he turned his head to look at you, though, you were looking at Peter curiously and- were you biting your lip?

“Something you wanna say to him, baby?” Miguel’s voice comes out dry, and you can instantly tell he’s mad. You send him a knowing smile, shaking your head softly, “Not really. I just think he sounds sweet.”

“Yeah?” Peter whimpers in reply immediately. I sound sweet, I sound sweet, I sound sweet.

You glance at Peter again, rubbing your thighs together, and Miguel scowls at the movement and tugs at your hair hard, “Keep talking, Peter. Somehow, she seems to be liking your whining.”

“S so good, you’re so good, fuck I wanna feel your mouth on me so bad,” Peter babbles mindlessly and you can't help but watch as he thrusts into his hand needily.

Miguel notices you staring and grinds his teeth together, “What are you looking at him for, huh? Looking at his cock when mine is right in front of you. Am I not enough for you, bebita?” Your head whips around to look at the man in front of you, your eyes widening a fraction as you shake your head softly.

You make sure to put on a show as you run your lips all over Miguel’s cock, spreading his pre-cum all over your mouth and chin as you talk, “You’re everything. Your cock ‘s so pretty, the prettiest ever. Love it s’much..”. Miguel feels satisfaction spread in his veins, making him warm all over. He slaps his cock over your cheek for good measure as he stands taller and huffs out a condescending laugh, glancing at Peter with a dumb smirk on his face. That’ll teach him.

But what Miguel sees is not at all what he expected.

Peter’s eyes roll back, the hand on his cock tightening as he moans. Fuck, he wants nothing more than to be at Miguel’s place right now that it’s driving him insane. “Such a good fucking girl, baby, shit.”

Miguel snarls at his reaction before snapping his head back to you, “Open your mouth,”

You do as you’re told, tongue out as you stare up at him with doe eyes, but he just clicks his tongue, “Wider.” Miguel shoves his hand in your mouth, his thumb on your tongue as the rest of his fingers cradle your jaw. He pumps his cock with his other hand, biting his lip, and mutters “Yeah, just like that.. You gonna be good for me?” You nod, and Miguel's thumb gets coated in your saliva from the movement.

Miguel grins and takes his thumb out, slowly turning his head to lock eyes with Peter. Then, he brings his hand up to his face and closes his mouth around his thumb, hollowing his cheeks prettily as he sucks your spit off his finger, his gaze dropping to Peter's cock.

Peter's jaw slacks, and his hips stutter at the sight in front of him. Miguel's low chuckle falls on deaf ears, Peter being too busy watching your hands squeeze Miguel's ass impatiently, trying to coax him back in your mouth, mewling when he relents and slips his cock inside. Miguel can't help but raise his hips as you bob your head up and down his length.

Peter spits on his cock suddenly, the filthy sound making you glance at him again, and Miguel's jaw ticks “It’s okay, bebita, you can look at him. Look, but know that he could never fuck you like I did. Or did you forget how you creamed around my cock, hm? I bet that pussy’s still wet for me,”

Peter moans approvingly, “Mm I bet it is..”

Miguel inhales sharply, his eyes falling shut, “Peter.”

“Yeahuh? Fuck. Yeah?”

“Get your ass over here.” Peter nearly falls on his face as he stumbles forward, raising his sweatpants carelessly as he walks over. His hands tremble when he clasps them together in front of him lamely, standing awkwardly near you both.

“Closer, pendejo.” Peter gawks at Miguel's request, shakes his head, and reluctantly takes two steps closer. He made sure to throw a glance towards Miguel to ensure that he wasn’t getting punched anytime soon.

“Hold her hair back.”

Peter must have died and went to heaven. There was no fucking way this was happening-

“Did you hear what I fucking said-"

Peter jumps when Miguel raises his voice and quickly springs into action. His breath hitches, but he can't help himself- not when he's carefully pulling your hair back, his fingers brushing your cheeks, avoiding touching Miguel's hands as he's still holding your head, practically using your mouth as a fleshlight.

Peter tries not to react when you gargle around Miguel's cock, the popping sound your mouth makes when you pull back to get some air pulling a hiss out of him. You cough messily, and as you do, you turn to look at Peter, in all your tears-running-down-your-cheeks glory. And then you grin at him, and Peter's legs buckle. And despite everything, despite the drool running down your chin, and Miguel's hard cock still in his field of view- Peter says, “Rough day, huh,"

You snort out a laugh, and Miguel's eyes almost roll to the back of his head because- how the fuck is that funny?- and so, he growls, tapping your lips twice with his cock before shoving it back inside your mouth, his head dropping as he moans lowly.

“Oh, fuck.” Miguel’s head was fuzzy, hypnotized by the way you bobbed your head up and down his cock, your hands fondling his balls with juust the right amount of pressure that made his thighs shake. He touches your jaw with his pointer finger, thumb drawing circles over your cheek in awe. “Baby, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Peter whimpers, “fuck…” and Miguel laughs breathlessly, tongue running over his fangs, “Are you gonna fuck your fist again when you think back to this? Back when she had her pretty lips wrapped around my cock and you watched her take it.. Jesus Christ, you look pathetic. I bet if she told you to hump the fucking floor, you would.”

Peter moans and nods absentmindedly, pulling his cock out hurriedly and starting to jerk his cock sloppily, gaze glued on your fluttering eyes, mascara running down your cheeks prettily. His eyes flicker from your face to your cleavage and he whines. Your tits just look so soft, he can't help himself.

Miguel, ever the perceptive man, notices this, “Be a good girl and pull your shirt up for Peter, baby.” You moan around his cock at the way his voice trembles, and raise your shirt over your boobs, suddenly very aware of your own underwear sticking to your pussy mesilly. Fuck, you were drenched.

“Oh my God,” Peter pants, eyes losing focus, hand on your hair loosening as he moves his hips back and forth, fucking into his hand relentlessly. “I'm gonna cum, gonna cum-”

“Cum on her tits.”

Peter sobs, stepping closer to jerk his cock just over your tits and he jumps when he feels you squeeze his thigh, nails digging into the skin. He feels his balls tighten, and he grasps your shoulder as his knees buckle suddenly. “I'm cumming- Oh fuck I'm-” his cock twitches as he cums, painting your pretty tits white, the jerks of his hand never stopping as he rides out his orgasm.

For a moment, it feels as though only Peter's moans and whimpers can be heard, and fuck, he hopes there's no one outside because he's so fucking loud, and it's so humiliating that he can feel tears running down his cheeks. He feels lightheaded and utterly spent as he pumps his cock, squeezing his hand tight around himself as he watches the last of his cum drip down his length and onto your shirt, turning it a darker shade.

“Oh- fuck. Oh my fucking God.” Peter bites back a whimper and shudders, when you bring your hands to your tits, squeezing them roughly and getting his cum aaall over them.

The ringing in Peter's ears fades away, and he snaps his eyes to Miguel when he hears the state he's in.

Miguel grunts each time he snaps his cock back in your mouth, reveling in your gurgles, feeling the vibration of your moans go straight to his balls, and he. can't. stop. Not when he'd just seen Peter cum all over your tits like that. Not when he'd liked watching him do it.

“Take it. Fuck- take my fuckin' cum baby-shit,” Miguel whimpers and snarls as he snaps his hips one final time, holding your head in place, his thighs shaking as he cums down your throat. He throws his head back when he feels you swallow around his length, muttering incoherently to himself in Spanish as he whimpers and groans.

Miguel stumbles back slightly, cock slipping from your mouth at last, and both men can't help but stare hungrily, their cocks hardening once more as you gather the excess cum that's dripping down your chin in your hands, licking it out of your palms a second later. All three of you are panting hard, letting your actions linger in the air for a moment.

But then you look up at them, a sinful glint in your eyes, and Miguel turns to Peter and says,

“What are you waiting for? Lick her tits clean.”

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