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#peter parker x enhanced! reader
mediocre-daydreams · 2 years
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can i please req peter parker x mutant!reader and reader is hypersensitive to sounds because of their ability to control vibrations and maybe? gets super jumpy every time an automatic humidifier pumps and all the avengers keep on catching r climbing peter because of it? 🫶🏻🫶🏻 LOVE YOUR WORK
hello sunshiiiine! i loved this request and it hit super close to home, so a lot of reader's experiences and symptoms are based on mine/my friends. (i missed the part about the controlling vibrations though, but i hope it still fits how you imagined it!) i'm so flattered you like my work 🥰 it means the world
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𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞
peter parker x enhanced! reader (gender neutral)
warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use (jokingly), overstim/panic attack, scenes from the conjuring 1 (not really spoilers just horror movie stuff), crackfic elements as always because it's me
w/c: 2.6k
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
you winced, as did many of the other avengers. you watched as carolyn’s skin turned ghastly gray and her eyes become a sickly yellow as she became possessed by a demon. you threw a couple more pieces of popcorn into your mouth. 
since joining the avengers, movie nights had become one of your favorite group activities. because of your age and how new you were, it was hard to feel like a part of the team. peter was one of your only solaces. 
“don’t eat all of it!” he hissed, knocking his elbow into yours. you rolled your eyes and threw a piece at his face. it left a grease mark on his cheek. you leaned in to clean it with your mouth.
“you neanderthal,” he whispered, laughing under his breath. he dug his hands in the bowl and grabbed a greedy fist of popcorn. you turned your head to face the screen, shifting under the blanket you were sharing with peter so you could loop your foot around peter’s legs. you often found yourself seeking out peter’s touches; it was comforting to have a physical presence there when you found yourself overstimulated. the tower was always busy, but peter was your constant.
peter was no stranger to overstimulation himself (and no, not in that way; get your head out of the gutter). his heightened spider senses and his adhd had been an inconvenient combo at first, but with help from bruce and tony, he was able to get his senses under control. your senses were much strong than his, to the point where overstimulation could be debilitating. it was all foreign ground to bruce and tony, so as they continued to work on a solution, peter had made it his personal mission to help you adjust and walking you through methods that had helped him.
you were too hyperfixated on watching carolyn tear her own hair out to notice the sappy look on peter’s face as he revered how the artificial light from the tv illuminated half your face. his eyes traveled from your eyelashes and the thin coat of mascara that you’d taught him how to apply for you, to the slope of your nose and the little bump you insisted was unseemly but that he found adorable, to your lips, slightly parted as you were entranced by the horror unfolding on the screen.
wanda, who was comfortably cozied up to vision on peter’s other side, snorted in amusement accompanied by that small nose scrunch of hers. she tapped peter’s shoulder furiously and with more force than necessary to catch his attention. he turned to look at her cautiously as to not move too much and disturb you.
wanda waggled her eyebrows deviously and vision hid his own smug smile. (curse that literal power couple for their perceptiveness.) wanda mouthed something that peter could barely pick up in the dark room. frustratedly, wanda leaned in closer and whispered, “take their hand, you idiot.” vision nodded in agreement, tilting his head towards you and then shaking his head at peter, disappointed. peter couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw vision mouth the word “coward.”
wanda slapped peter’s wrist playfully before cuddling into vision’s chest once more, like nothing had just happened.
peter was pretty sure you could pick up on his heartrate increasing. when you turned to look at him with a concerned look, he took it back. peter was positive you could hear the way his heart was pounding. he only hoped you couldn’t feel the heat rising to his cheeks as well.
“peter?” you whispered, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek sweetly. well, shit. there went his second wish. “oh, you’re all warm! is it the movie? do you not like horror movies?”
peter smiled in what looked more like a grimace. “no! i love horror movies, actually! yeah, they’re super great,” he lied, knowing how much you enjoyed them and hoping he could use that as an excuse to watch more movies with you. “i’m just- uh, a little warm. from the blanket.”
reluctantly, peter removed himself from under the blanket and pushed it to you. your face fell, or at least peter thought so, because a moment later, that sweet smile of yours returned. it didn’t do much to help his heart from spasming.
“o-okay! sorry if i made you uncomfortable,” you stammered, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. any contact you’d been making with peter had been broken and peter found himself longing for your touch.
“no, it’s not you, it’s actually-”
“can you guys shut up?” rhodey complained from his pillow throne on the ground. “this is the best part.” 
the two of you settled, looking anywhere but each others’ eyes. you slumped into the couch cushions grumpily and faced the screen once more. honestly, peter couldn’t care about ‘the best part.’ he hadn’t really been watching anyways, content with simply basking in your presence. it was the only time he could really admire you without seeming creepy. not that he was creepy at other times or anything.
the screen flashed white and the team jumped, including you. there was screaming and chaos and amidst it all, you’d flinched so hard that you’d frozen into place, eyes wide and glossy, hands clutching your blanket with a vice-like grip that left you trembling. peter could immediately recognize what it was.
you were having an attack of sorts, brought on by the harsh cinematography and the chorus of yelps and screams from the other avengers. now the popcorn bowl in your hands weighed pounds, the blanket on your skin had grown prickles, and the air around you was sending jolts down your spine. you tensed, shoulders coming up to your ears as you rubbed the back of your neck to fight the invisible tickle that was taunting you.
peter whispered your name a couple times, gradually increasing in volume until you were able to fully respond. when he caught sight of you, his face fell at the despondance in your eyes and the sudden quivers of your body. he glanced down at his watch, eyebrows furrowing as he caught the time.
11:30PM, which is when the automatic air purifier turned on for the night. it was a bit loud, which was why it worked at night, but now you were awake and already stressed. he hesitated for a second, hands lingering in the air so could choose whether or not you wanted to be touched, and you leaned into his open arms immediately. he pulled you close and you buried your nose into the fabric of his shirt, taking deep inhales of his detergent and the new york wind that he always smelled like from swinging around.
he rubbed your back, putting pressure on your tense muscles to ground you. you sniffed, squeezing your eyes shut to try and block out at least one sensory stimuli. peter frowned as he felt you continue to shudder sporadically in his arms. he glanced around the room. thankfully, nobody was paying attention to you two. he didn’t think you could handle people crowding you and trying to talk to you right now, even if it was well-intentioned.
“d’you wanna leave?” he muttered near your ear. he felt you shake your head. “no? that’s okay. we can stay here, if that’s what you need. do you want me to hold you or do you not want anything to be touching you?”
peter felt you melt into his touch, like putty. “jus’ want you,” you mumbled, and peter blushed a million shades darker. you said nothing except threaded your fingers through peter’s and squeezing them, hard. he realized that the pressure was grounding you.
“c’mon, get comfy. i’ll stay with you until the movie’s over, okay? just tell me if there’s anything else i can do to make you feel better,” peter mumbled into your hair as you pushed yourself tightly against peter’s body. he’d been having bad luck controlling his physical reactions to you but prayed more than anything that there’d be no action down there. not the time, peter.
“thank you,” you hummed into his neck. this time, it was he who shivered at the hot air you breathed against his bare skin. “you’re warm. please, just… i need you.” you went silent for a moment before peter felt your lips move against his skin again. “you’re everything to me, peter. i lo- thank you.”
peter’s eyes softened and he pursed his lips to stop himself from beaming. you two had always been touchy and affectionate, but never so emotionally vulnerable. all he wanted to do was pick you up and spin you and then kiss you with all the pining he’d been storing from the past few months, but you didn’t need that right now. you just needed him, peter. his presence. so instead, he brought his hands up to stroke your hair and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
“i love you too.”
--
you awoke the sound of poorly suppressed giggling, blinking the harsh sunlight from your groggy eyes. nudging peter, who grumbled and only dug his head closer to your chest, you glanced around to find the culprit of the noise. it was sam and bucky, the former holding his phone in front of his face and very obviously videotaping the two of you, while the latter had pulled out a polaroid camera (bucky hadn’t yet figured out how to use a smartphone) and was just now clicking it to capture the two of you in a bright flash.
peter jolted awake at the sound of bucky’s camera. “what the f-”
“language!” steve shouted from the kitchen, always on his game even at seven in the morning. he appeared by the duo’s side with a protein shake in hand and a judgementally, but amused quirked eyebrow directed at the two of you.
“why are you guys even awake?” you groaned, pushing peter off of you. somehow, you’d ended up falling asleep on the couch with peter’s head and torso on top of yours, and your legs draped over his.
“went on a run,” bucky shrugged. “came back to this.”
peter rubbed his eyes, sitting up. “what even- when did we finish the movie?” his morning voice was raspy and endearing and you cursed yourself for the fluttering in your stomach
“we finished the movie, like,” sam checked his phone, “eight hours ago. you guys passed out right before ed and lorraine did their whole ‘we saved the family, hip hip hooray’ thing. there was too much snoring and popcorn grease going on for any of us to bother waking you up.”
“i do not snore,” you insisted, uselessly trying to fix your bedhead.
“i beg to differ,” natasha chimed in, hopping the kitchen counter nonchalantly to sit on a stool with a coffee in hand, not spilling a single drop. “i’m a light sleeper. i could hear you from my room.” you sighed in embarrassment and peter took your hand, rubbing circles into the back of your palm reassuringly. “i knew stark didn’t soundproof my room,” natasha cursed under her breath. “that conniving bitch.”
bucky shook his polaroid a couple times before frisbee-ing it at the two of you. peter snatched it from the air, turning the picture so you could see it too. you had to admit, it was a nice picture. 
“so are you guys, like, together now?” tony strolled in, his silk sleep mask pushed on top of his head like like a headband. how unfortunate it was that the avengers were early risers.
“dude, they’ve been together for like, weeks,” sam rolled his eyes, shifting his weight to one foot sassily. “get with the program.”
“we’re not-”
“are you fucking with me, sam?” natasha looked genuinely shocked, on the verge of offended. “they’ve been dating for months now.” when sam didn’t say anything, natasha threw her hands in the air. “these are the mightiest protectors of earth? god, we’re all doomed.” 
“uh, actually-”
“wait, seriously?” tony squealed, clapping his hands together gleefully. “oh my god, this is so cute. i think they’re my new OTP. don’t let wanda and vision hear me say that. wait, what’s their ship name going to be? i ordered customized mugs for wanda and vision’s three week anniversary and it would be unfair for me to not-”
“we’re not together!” you exclaimed, a little louder than you’d intended to. all heads turned to you, even peter’s, as you looked at each avenger in bewilderment. “peter and i are friends. what are you guys smoking? did thor bring asgardian weed or something?” your face quickly fell. “oh shit, were they in the brownies? dude, i had like, three.”
“i don’t think they’re high,” peter whispered to you, gaze flickering to each avenger that now were very confused and slightly perturbed. natasha slowly spun around and returned to drinking her coffee silently. bucky and sam looked at each other.
“well, that’s awkward. FRIDAY, cancel order.” tony pulled the sleeping mask off his head and spun it around on his finger to avoid the thickness in the air. “right. i’m gonna go back to bed.”
peter placed his hand on your jaw to turn your head back to meet his eyes. he was frowning.
“do you- do you remember anything from last night?” he said sadly.
“i-” you wanted to protest. you wanted to lie and say no. but you could never lie to peter. not just because of how he’d helped you last night, but because he was peter. “yeah, i remember what happened.”
“do you remember, uh, what i said? before we fell asleep, i guess?” peter’s eyes dropped to his lap, and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“yeah. i do. you said you loved me… too. which means you already knew i loved you, huh?” you spoke shyly, looking up at peter through your eyelashes. “love. present tense. ‘cause i… love you. is that okay?”
peter placed his hand on top of yours, the one that was still on his shoulder. he coaxed it off his body and into the grasp of his palm. pulling it to his mouth, he brushed his lips to your knuckles before letting it hover between your chests. “yeah. it’s okay. it’s more than okay, actually. it’s really good. it’s great.”
“it’s super great. i’m glad. i love you,” you giggled, euphoric at the absurdity of the confession. “i had the worst night yesterday,” you breathed, finally able to look into his eyes with as much lovesickness as you wanted. “and you were there. you saved me. like a friendly neighborhood superhero. you’re just… you make me feel safe, peter. i feel comfortable.”
peter’s eyes crinkled as he watched your face break into a sleepy smile. “you make me want to be a better person,” he confessed. “i’m a better person when i’m with you. all i ever want to do is make you comfortable, okay? if you just tell me how… i’ll do it.”
you pouted and sent him a slow, sticky blink. “i love you. i’m so happy i get to say it now. i love you.”
“i love you too,” peter’s eyes were practically shut by how hard he was smiling. “i love you so, so-”
“okay, you guys need to shut up,” rhodey complained, pulling out one of his airpods. “i’m literally listening to indina menzel right now and i can still hear you over her high notes.”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
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The Spiders Sister - Chapter 1
Summary: Reader gets caught hiding out in the avengers tower. In the end it turns out for the best.
TW: non-sexual nudity, illness, fainting, swearing
Words: 4.1K
A/n: Super long first chapter
маленький паук – Little Spider
It defiantly wasn’t part of your life plan to be living with your bother again in your adulthood.
You had spent an excellent few months on your own having finally moved out of May Parker’s apartment, it had been perfect. Well … as perfect as life could be for a parker.
Then … you guessed it … parker luck struck again. There was a huge fight, one you had been itching to join but your brother, peter parker, had it covered. And since nobody knew that you sometimes wore the spider-man suit when peter wasn’t able to, it would all be over if two Spider-Man’s ended up fighting some of the weird aliens that had invaded New York.
You see, you and your brother had more in common than most siblings did. Peter parker had been bitten by a radioactive spider on a school trip as was known to a few people. But, at the same time, you had been eighteen and chaperoning the field trip.
When peter had snuck off to the side you had gone after him. When he was bitten, so were you.
But for now, you had decided to try and stay away from the superhero lifestyle. But when the itch came, peter lent you his suit so you could scratch it.
You had helped him refine his web-fluid and had your own web shooters as well as one of his old suits just in case. May knew about you and peter after finding out a while ago. However, peter and you had kept everything about your existence from the avengers so you could live a semi-normal life. At least for now.
But the day the avengers were fighting off the aliens, New York had taken some heavy damage. You had been running a small illustration business out of your apartment in queens. Your apartment … which was now levelled in the fight was gone. Along with your business.
Since you had moved out young, May only had one spare bedroom in her apartment which peter was occupying. Leaving the Parker’s with one option.
As peter had a room in the avenger's tower, you could stay there or with aunt may. Peter being Peter didn’t want to ask tony if he could stay in the tower for the unforeseeable future without arousing questions. So, you had been secretly living in the tower for about three days now.
Peter brought you food and had bribed Jarvis to keep your existence a secret. You had his old suit if you wanted to leave the tower, you could swing away instead of walking through the building and getting caught.
It was a pretty solid plan and it had been working pretty well. Until the day you got sick.
Peters' bedroom in the tower was on the floor with the other avengers, meaning you had to be somewhat quiet so Natasha, clint or the others didn’t find you. But it had begun to get colder out, and Peters old suit didn’t have a heater. It had been made before tony had found out spiders, including peter and yourself, can't thermoregulate. And swinging around New York without a heater in the nippy winter air had left you with a pretty nasty cold.
Unlike peter your powers didn’t give you super healing. In fact, your powers differed from peters in more ways than one. For one thing you had small fangs which you could retract, they didn’t do much, but they were cool, and peter was mildly jealous. Another thing was you had taken on aspects of jumping spiders as you could jump higher due to your super strength and some weird spider quality peter lacked.
Like peter the bit had given your excellent eyesight, increased metabolism, a lack of thermoregulation, the weird sticky thing, the spider sense and super strength and the allergy to peppermint. But due to sharing the suit anytime you went out as “Spider-Man” you had to refrain from using your own unique powers, so you didn’t give anything away.
The thermoregulating thing may have finally come back to bite you now that you were in peters old suit. After taking one of his patrols for him so he could finish his assignment and you could get out of his room in the tower, the cold had made you sick. Heres the thing about having a high metabolism when you don’t have an increased healing factor. It went one of two ways. Either you had flash colds which were taken care of quickly and at a much faster rate than the average human, or if it was stronger than your immune system, it was quickly made into a bigger problem than it should have been due to your body processing things faster and speeding up its strength.
Anytime this had happened in the past, due to not being able to go to a regular hospital, you had thanked the gods for May choosing a career in nursing. Though she had been able to treat you superficially with regular medicine and not anything made for super soldiers or spiders as that was a Bruce banner specialty that was unique to the tower's med bay. So, you often just had to ride it out and if things got really bad, peter would try and smuggle you some of his medicine out of the tower for you.
So, this is where you ended up. Curled up in Peters bed in the tower, stifling rough sounding coughs into his pillow and making a mental note to wash his sheets soon. You were doing your best to remain quiet and not alert either of the super spies to your presence or any of the other avengers. You thanked Thor that only you and peter had super hearing which meant you could usually tell if someone was in the halls.
Feeling miserable you buried yourself further into the sheets and shivered, it was so cold but in reality, you probably had a high fever. Your lungs let out a wheezing noise whenever you exhaled, and you were beginning to think maybe your asthma was back. Unlike peter you had not been so lucky as to have had it cured by the bite.
Your asthma puffer was one of the few things that survived your apartment being destroyed. As you laid in bed feeling awful you thought back to that day.
You thanked the gods you had been out at the time. You had gone to a coffee shop downtown with your sketchbook, laptop and usual things you took out, including a range of art supplies and of course your emergency puffer which peter had managed to smuggle out which had doses that worked with your metabolism.
You were broken from your daydreams as another harsh coughing fit wracked your body. From what you could hear nobody was in the halls, but you did your best to keep quiet regardless. The wheezing that trailed after each breath was getting worse and your lungs were feeling tight.
You had been trying to use the puffer sparingly so it didn’t run out because you didn’t know if and or when peter could get you another. But as drawing breath grew harder you made the executive call to use it. You rolled over in the bed and threw an arm down to fish around for your red backpack. Finding it you fiddled with the zip before your fingers wrapped around the cool plastic of the device. Tony being tony had insisted it have a Spiderman case thinking it was peters which ended up being rather ironic as it was fitting for you too.
You tried fruitlessly one last time to draw breath before achieving nothing but a crackling wheeze. Screw it. You uncapped the red lid and held it to your lips, propping yourself up on an elbow in an attempt to sit u straight to take it.
You exhaled and inhaled repeating it once more before drawing in a lungful of the super-medicine. Almost straight away you began to feel better. Your fast metabolism speeding up the medicines process.
Feeling like you could breathe again you replaced the cap and put it on the nightstand before curling up in the sheets again feeling cold still but also slightly damp from the thin layer of sweat that had been forming all morning.
You were dressed in spider-man pjs which had a thin t-shirt and long pants. You had considered getting up to grab one of peters hoodies to get warm or another blanket but the idea of standing up made your head spin.
You nestled back into the sheets and let your eyes fall shut despite it being almost midday. The curtains were drawn and so it didn’t bother you too much. You began to drift off into a semi-peaceful sleep broken by harsh coughing fits which were becoming harder to stifle in your half asleep and fevered state.
Meanwhile the avengers had just finished their morning training session, one which Peter had joined for once. Peter being Peter had barely broken a sweat and as a result had opted to hang out on the communal floor while everyone went o freshen up.
Stark had designed the tower well. With Peter’s bedroom being on the same floor as Natasha’s who was rather protective of her younger spider counterpart as well as Wanda’s, Yelena’s, Kate’s and a few spares. The rest of the avengers were a floor above.
At first peter had been a bit miffed about being on a floor of just girls but he ended up liking it a lot. And he had a second bedroom in the master suite with tony and Pepper which he proffered anyway. The one on the avenger's floor was more for if Tony and Pepper were away, and he wanted to be around the others.
Natasha was headed for her room after waving goodbye to peter who had settled down to watch more star-wars, when she paused in the hallway.
Retracing her steps she found herself stood outside peters bedroom door. Frowning she pressed an ear to the door and froze. Someone was inside and coughing. Knowing it wasn’t peter, nat carefully twisted the door handle.
Peter being peter had prepared for almost anything. As soon as Natasha had set foot inside peters room Jarvis had alerted peter of her presence.
Meanwhile Natasha peered into the dimly lit room. The lump in the bed was wriggling around and coughing. Nat was on high alert by now. She realised this person was ill but how had they managed to get in without Jarvis knowing? And why were they in peters bed?
She crossed the threshold and walked over to the bed. Taking note of the backpack on the floor and puffer on the bedside table as well as your spider-man pjs which had been a gag gift from Peter last Christmas.
Nat stood and observed for a second. Looking down at your flushed face which was burning with fever and the harsh coughs that were wracking your weak form.
Nat watched helplessly for a second unsure of how to deal with a sick intruder.
She hesitated before extending a hand to your forehead and feeling a very high fever. She sucked a breath. Despite being an intruder she had some ideas as to why you may have been here. Your likeness to peter wasn’t hard to spot. Yet. She was unsure.
Peeling of the blankets to get a better look at you, as she did you made a small noise of discontent and curled into a shaking ball still fever addled and half asleep.
Before she could continue the door opened and peter looked in.
“Uhh M-Ms Romanoff…” Peter said looking guilty as he stepped in and closed the door again.
“Peter, do you know who this is?” Natasha asked getting straight to the point. Peter hesitated and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Y-yes.” He said looking at your sick form with a frown.
“Peter.” She said crossing her arms. “Care to share whats going on?” Nat said as she headed for Peter’s bathroom.
“Um… She … she’s,, my sister.” Peter said unsurely. Natasha returned after a second and nodded. Now holding the first aid kit from peters bathroom in her arms.
“Anything else i should know?” She asked walking over to the bed and sitting down to rifle through the first aid kit.
“Petey?” You mumbled hearing his voice.
Peter seemed to break out of his trance and came to your side. “I’m here Y/n.” He said.
“‘S cold.” You mumbled making peter frown.
“Actually, I think she has a fever.” Nat said as she found what she was looking for, pulling out a thermometer from the kit.
Nat gently placed the thermometer under your tongue and turned to look at peter.
“Pete, you’re not in trouble but i need some more information.” Natasha said.
“This is Y/n. She’s, my sister. Her apartment was levelled in the last attack and so she’s been staying here ever since. She’s not a threat I promise.” Peter said almost tripping over his words in order to explain.
Before Nat could respond the thermometer beeped and she removed it to look at the small screen, drawing another round of coughs from you. Natasha rubbed your back with one hand while frowning at the screen.
“Peter… she should be dead. This says 106. There’s more isn’t there.” Nat said with some urgency as she began peeling the rest of the blankets off you in an attempt to cool you down.
“Ahh … yes. She had powers. Like mine. She … she wears the suit sometimes.” Peter said standing nearby and watching with a worried expression.
“Ok. So, she has spider powers? High metabolism, super strength, etc.” Nat said and Peter nodded. “Why hasn’t her healing fixed this?” Nat said feeling your forehead again.
“She doesn’t have it. Her powers differ slightly.” Peter explained as Nat cursed softly in Russian.
“Her fever’s still rising.” Nat said making a decision. “We need to cool her down fast before she gets too hot for her own good. Jarvis?” Natasha said and peter looked panicked for a second worried about more people finding out about you.
“Ms Romanoff-“ he started.
“Pete, we need to cool her down stat. I need some help.” She said and peter nodded still looking nervous. “Jarvis call wanda to Peter’s bedroom.” Nat said and peter relaxed slightly. Wanda was ok. She would be good for the situation.
“What are you going to do?” Peter asked.
“She needs a bath and I doubt you want to do that.” She said with a small smirk and Peter flushed for a second.
“Defiantly not.” He said shaking his head.
“Is there someone we can call? Someone who she’d be ok with dressing her once we cool her down. She may be sick but i don’t want to invade her privacy.” Nat said as she scooped you up from the bed and into her lap while they waited for wanda to arrive. You cough harshly again and wheezed making nat frown and look to peter.
“Asthma.” He said.
“Runs in the family huh?” She joked reaching over for the puffer on the bedside table.
“Uh… about that.” Peter said looking guilty. “Mine was cured by the bite. I need the puffers for her.” He said looking sheepish. Expecting Nat to be mad she grinned.
“You’re a good brother.” She said as she uncapped the device and pressed it to your lips.
“Exhale.” She instructed and by some small miracle you complied. When you went to inhale, she administered the medicine and told you to hold.
Recapping the device, she rubbed a hand up and down your arm. “Good job sweetie.” She said and felt you relax into her arms some more as you let out a breath.
The two sat in silence for another second before the door opened again and wanda slipped inside.
She was freshly showered, her hair damp and she smelt like jasmine and honey. She was dressed in a simple faded black t-shirt and grey track pants.
“Whats-“ she began before pausing, her eyes caught on you laid in Natashas lap half asleep.
“Wanda,” Nat said. “Meet Y/n. Peter’s older sister.” She said.
“Okay…” Wanda said looking lost before her expression morphed to concern as you coughed. “Is she ok?” Wanda asked.
“No. That’s why you’re here. Long story short, peter smuggled her into the tower, and she has spider powers and her fever is really high. We need to cool her down.” Nat said and wanda swallowed and nodded. “Peter?” Nat said turning to the younger parker.
“Yes?” He said looking up from where he had been studying his shoes closely.
“You never answered my question. Is there someone we can call to come and get her dressed after wanda and i bathe her?” Nat asked and peter blushed again and nodded.
“I can call May. It’s her day off.” He said and Nat nodded.
“You do that. Wanda and I will look after Y/n. We promise not to go further than her outer clothes.” She said and scooped you up into her arms. She headed for Peter’s bathroom with wanda trailing behind. You remained limp in her arms snuggled into her chest in an unconscious need for companionship.
Once the two redheads had you in the bathroom wanda looked at nat. “Now what?” She asked and Natasha smirked.
“Now we take her clothes off.” She said and gently she lifted your arms from where you were laid on the floor in her lap and pulled the spider-man t-shirt off over your head. Wanda blushed slightly at the sight of your red sports bra despite having seen Nat and herself train in about the same if not less clothes.
“You wanna help?” Nat asked with a grin that only served to make Wanda’s blush deepen. You squirmed slighting in Nat’s lap but stopped when she gently rubbed your arm after you buried your warm face into her stomach.
Wanda rolled her eyes in an attempt to feign nonchalance despite being way past that point.
She lifted her hands, and the familiar red glow of magic surrounded her hands. Her magic lifted your hips so Nat could slide off your pants. Wanda blushed again at the sight of your Black Widow boxers. Natasha however grinned at them finding it both adorable and very cute.
After a beat Wanda met Nat’s eyes again. “Now what?”
“We get her in the bath. She needs to be cooled down Asap.” Nat said hoisting you into her arms again as you wriggled, turning and grumbling into her chest.
“Not gonna lie she’s pretty cute.” Nat said and Wanda avoided her eyes as she used her magic to fill the bath with tepid water.
Natasha gently lowered you into the tub ignoring your whining protests and running her hands through your hair which seemed to calm you down as you relaxed again.
“So … now we wait?” Wanda guessed and Natasha nodded.
“Yep. Unless you really want to steal May’s job of getting her dressed again.” Nat teased making Wanda splutter slightly. “Im kidding.” Nat said. “I know what hot women do to your brain.” She winked and wanda slouched slightly.
After a second you grumbled and blearily opened your eyes, squinting at the two women.
“Peter is so dead.” You mumbled before letting your eyes drift shut again. There was a pause before wanda and nat both started laughing.
You groaned. “Peter!” You yelled before coughing again making Wanda and Nat frown. But before they could do anything the door opened to show a beat red peter with his hands covering his eyes.
“Yes?” He said in a small voice.
“When I get out of here, you’re dead.” You mumbled with a foggy glare sent in his direction.
“Hey. Peter did the right thing.” Another voice said from behind Peter.
“May?” You called. “Oh, wtf is going on right now.” You mumbled.
“Whats going on kiddo is that, once again, you failed to ask for help which landed you here.” May said entering the bathroom with a change of clothes.
“Nice to see you Ms Parker.” Nat said and wanda echoed.
“Please. Call me May. And thank you for looking after her.” May said and you groaned.
“I hate all of you.” You said hiding your face in your hands.
“Uh huh. Sure, you do.” May teased.
“It was no problem. Ms- May.” Wanda said. “We’ll wait in peters bedroom while you… yeah.” Wanda said before making a hasty retreat. Nat laughed and followed her out.
May gave you a disappointed frown once she had shut the door and turned back to you with a sigh.
“Honey.” She said.
“I know… I know.” You said still feeling like death but slightly less so. “Did the black widow and scarlet witch just really see me in my underpants?” You asked.
“Yes, and I serves you right for hiding illness … again!” She said as she came over, rolling up her sleeves and helping you out, practically holding all your weight for you as your head spun.
May frowned and guided you over to the covered toilet seat to dress you again.
Gently she began to towel you off and change you into fresh clothes.
“I can do it myself.” You whined but May shot you a look and you knew better than to challenge the angry Parker and you and peter had called her as kids when she was upset at you for something.
“Now, once you’re dressed you are going to thank those two for their kindness and your coming home with me.” May said.
“But-“ you began.
“No buts.” She said and helped you up, now fully dressed.
She helped you over to the door opening it despite still holding you up. The two of you shuffled into the room where Peter, Nat and Wanda were sat on Peter’s bed talking in hushed voices.
“Pete. I love you but I can hear everything you’re saying dumbass.” You said rolling your eyes and May lightly hit your arm.
“Right.” He said rubbing his neck. “Super hearing.” He nodded.
“I’ll add it to the list.” Nat grinned and you groaned before May jabbed you in the side and looked at the two girls.
You coughed at her actions making her frown but quickly got it under control for the sake of your already fragile image.
“Thank you, Wanda and Natasha, for helping me.” You said still leaning heavily on May. Now you had been standing for a bit the room began to spin. Your face went a shade paler making Natasha frown and stand. It was a split second before you stumbled, almost bringing May down with you in the process. Luckily strong arms wrapped around you, and you looked up into Nat’s pale green and worried eyes.
“Y/n?” You finally registered she was talking to you. “Y/n?” She asked again a little louder.
You let out a soft groan and she huffed. “Right. Up we go.” She said hoisting you into your arms and making the room spin again as you buried your face in her arm.
You felt her gently set you down on the bed and feel your forehead.
Distantly you heard May saying something along the lines of taking you home and the sound of Natasha arguing they were better equipped to help with your powers and sickness. May relented and you went back to dozing.
“What happened?” Peter asked from where he was stood by the door.
“Probably got too dizzy from standing up. Her body’s already trying to fight off sickness.” Natasha said and Wanda nodded.
“Peter? Don’t you have a super high metabolism?” Wanda asked.
“Yeah?” He said looking lost as May seemed to catch on.
“Y/n when did you last eat?” May asked and you groaned and buried your face in the pillow. “Well, that answers that.” May said rolling her eyes.
“Peter, do you have any of those energy bars that steve uses?” Wanda asked and peter nodded and headed for his bedside drawer.
He fished around and pulled out one of them and passed it to nat. She unwrapped it and shoved it into your hands.
“Eat.” She said and you made a groan of protest. “It’ll help.” She said in a softer tone.
“Fine.” You said sitting up against the headboard and nibbling on it slowly.
“Better.” Nat said and you frowned.
“You know you’re cute when you’re mad.” Wanda said looking surprised by her own words and blushing at Natasha’s knowing gaze.
“Get some rest маленький паук” Nat said once you had finished eating, and she begun to shepherd everyone out of the room.
PART 2
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Text
Pretend (peter parker)
A/N: so this is a repost, since my first account got suspended, but i love this fic so much that i couldn't not post it again. This was my first time writing for Peter Parker (mcu) But you can aslo read for any of them :)
Enjoy,
Cloudy
Dont be shy, reblogs, comment or like!
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Peter Parker was the new roommate at the compound. You thought he was cute, and he was your age... finally someone to talk about things of your era.
“Hey boomers” you cheer when you enter the open kitchen.
“Mornin’ Y/N” respond everyone.
“Hello Y/N” blushed Peter, but he could see something was not right with you, he could sense it.
“Hey kiddo, she won’t bite” teased Sam.
“Depends when”, you teased back making Peter blushed even more. You got a sweet spot for the friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man.
You felt dizzy this morning, a little bit lightheaded. You pretended to be okay in front of them. But you were scared because you didn’t understand what was going with you.
See you had powers; I mean you were an avenger. Like Wanda and Pietro, you were an experiment. You could read thoughts and see the future. But you had developed another power, that you tried to understand with Bruce and Tony. Lately you would dissociate in time. Sometimes your body was moving before you did. And this morning was like the other for the past two weeks.
“Shit, she’s not here, is she?” asked Clint.
You became blurry and your voice distorted.
“Hey boomers!” you said again. Nobody responds this time, they all looked at you. You felt the tension and you looked at them. “What” your voice echoed. You turned your head and there’s a reflection of your movement.
“Shit I feel dizzy” before you fall, Peter caught you. His Spidey sense made him the only one able to catch you. Your body was visible three times in the kitchen and the other avengers were not able to take the right one. But Peter reached for the correct body before he could think of it.
“You’re, ok?” he asked you.
“Well, you caught me, so never been better”. He helped you sit down on a chair and brought you a black tea and some buttered toast.
“I think you need to it. You dissociate a lot when you’re with an empty stomach” pointed Peter.
“I hope you are writing down Bruce or Tony, he has a point”. They both nodded and Tony talk to his watch... taking notes.
“Well Queens, you sure are very observant.” Said Steve.
“I-I need to prepare for college” blurred out Peter before almost running out of the kitchen.
“Well done old man, who’s gonna bring me my toast now” you complained.
Vision appeared from the wall and took your plate with your toast.
“I am Y/N, you look very pale... you must eat before dissociating again”.
“See Vision and Peter take care of me... not like you other”.
“Oh my god, you are sure she’s not your daughter Tony,” laughed Natasha.
After breakfast, you went back to your room, it was the one next to Peter’s. You passed by, hoping he hasn’t gone without you to college. You entered your room still feeling dizzy but this time you knew it was because of the emotions bubbling up in Peter’s head. With your dissociation you felt everyone emotions, it was tiring but you delt with like a champ... well you pretend anyway.
Images entered your brain. It was you; Peter was thinking of you, and you weren’t playing scrabble.
“Shit, that’s hot” you said out lout. Peter was imagining you riding him. You were wearing on of his scientist pun shirt, hands in your hair, praising him. His hands were on your thighs and then his thumb was on your clit. The emotions, he was feeling, were so strong that you could almost feel him inside you.
“PETER STOP IT NOW” you screamed. The images in your head froze and you felt the embarrassment growing in Peter heart.
“s-sorr-sorry Y/N” he yelled back.
He was cute, but he was very frustrated since his breakup with MJ. You felt bad for him. You didn’t know the entire story, he told you it was an agreement between them to end their relationship... but you were sure she was more ok with it than him. You felt his broken heart for weeks.
You finished to get ready for school and wait for Peter in the living room. When he arrived, he was red like a tomato, and he looked at his feet.
“It’s ok, Petey. I’m not mad”.
“I-I’m sorry. Eve- ok you’re not mad. Bu-but I shoul-I should not do that either way” he stuttered.
“It was hot, very intense, I almost felt you... inside me.” His eyes went wide but you were too deep in your reflexion to see it. “Crazy right? I think I can feel more when I’m like... I don’t know connect with the person... I should tell Bruce about it”.
“That you can see and feel my... wait don’t tell him, please” he begged you.
“Relax Spidey, I am not telling him I can see and feel when you jerked off.” you laughed when he blushed even harder if that was possible.
You took his arm and went to the garage to take one of Tony’s cars. Your touch went straight to his crotch, he had a crush on you since the last two months. You were kind to him, always defending him when the other teased him too much. Always helping him, when he struggled with his project for school or when he wanted to improve his suit or his fighting skills. You made him laugh and forget about his problems. You were like his personal sunshine and when he missed May too much, he looked at you to feel a bit more home. You were his new home now, but he was too heartbroken to see it yet.
You both arrived in college in no time. Peter drove because you were not sure if you would dissociate again. When he parked the car, you were about to go but he stopped you. “You are not totally here yet” he said calmly. You watched his hand on your forearm, but you didn’t feel his grip.
“Jesus Spidey-boy, how?”
“Spidey sense, I think”.
You were the only one to not called his Spidey sense, “Peter tingle” and he liked you a lot for that among other things.
When you felt his grip, it when straight to your core... for no reason except maybe it was like a reaction to him daydreaming about you. His gaze past you and your heart broke. You turned your head and you saw MJ talking with a guy, a handsome one, and she kissed him with passion. Back to Peter, you saw him with teary eyes.
“Hey Pete, don’t... she’s not worth it.”
“I want to move on, it’s been six months.” he murmured.
“You can’t decide when you’ll be totally healed. it takes time.” You caress his cheek in attend to comfort him. He gave you his puppy eyes signature. Those fucking eyes.
“You can pretend.”
“Pretend?”
“That you moved on too. “
“How?”
“We could pretend that we’re dating.” He looked at you, then looked at MJ who was still kissing the new guy, then looked at you again. His hand on your arm holds you tighter and you hand on his cheek went to the back of his neck.
“It won’t hurt anyone, plus maybe your fantasy might come true.” you teased him. Without any warning he kissed you. it was a kick gentle one. You blinked a few times before registering that he did kiss you.
“S-sorry, I should ask you” You shook your head before lean in again and connect your lips to his. This time you took control of the kiss, you took your time to feel his lips against yours. He sighed and parted them a little, your tongue went brush his teeth. You thought he would back off but no he pushed his tongue out to meet yours. You broke the kiss first, scared to not be able to stop... he was a good kisser.
“Well, one of my fantasies is already complete” he said with a certain confidence. You smiled, you liked when he was more confident. “I feel better already, thanks”.
“Did I kissed your boo-boo away?” you joked. He rolled his eyes and got out of the car. He waited for you, then he put his hand on your back.
“It is not for pretending that we are together, you’re still sitting in the car” When he finished his sentence, you felt your soul coming back to your body. Peter holds you closer to prevent from any falling. He heard your heart tumbled in your chest and he hold you closer by putting his harms around your waist. Your head fall on his shoulder by the impact of yourself on your own body. “You, ok?”.
“I don’t know Pete”. You looked up to meet his gaze. His concern about you, you felt it. “It has never been this strong, and… what the fuck? I mean you just hold me and wait for my soul to come back to my body, like you felt it?”
He looked you up and down before putting his lower lips between his teeth. “I-I felt it yeah. Like goosebump. And you have this look in your eyes when you dissociate. Like a cloud on your pupil.”
You’re surprised. He is very observant of your condition, even more than Tony or Bruce, maybe it’s because is more with you… or maybe he likes you more than you think.
“Can you note that somewhere? I have to report this to Bruce.” He nodded and helped you reached your first class.
“Meet me at 2 in the parking lot?” he asked you. “Yeah, fine see ya Peter”. He kissed your cheek before disappearing in the crowd of students. You started blushing for sure.
Two weeks later your condition is worst than ever. You can’t go to class because you keep dissociating. You don’t even know where you are most of the time. The only way to be yourself is when Peter is around you and it makes you sick to be this dependant on someone.
“Y/N?” call Bruce.
“My room.”
The scientist comes in and analyse your state from the door. He frowns.
“Yep, I look like shit, I know. I can’t shower. I mean I can not get up from my bed. Too dizzy”
You hear him hums and scribbles on his notebook. You turn your head slightly and your vision blurs instantly. You close your eyes and groan of frustration. Then… you hear his thoughts.
Maybe the kid could help her shower. Just to see if it works.
“I am not showering with him” he chuckles before speaking out loud.
“No, of course. But maybe he could be near you? I mean when he’s in the same room as you, you seem to functionate almost normally.”
“I am not a machine, Banner.” He sits on your bed, and he pats your leg. “I know, sweety, but could you try? A shower, it’ll make you feel better.”
You sigh and nod positively. Bruce leaves your room, and you wait. A few moments later, you feel Peter coming. He’s nervous and impatient. Bruce knocks and you tell them to come in. Peter is slightly blushing, and his smile disappears when he sees you on your bed.
She looks so ill. I should have come earlier. Shit she can hear me. Think of something, think of something. Lama, dogs, cactus, not her naked, don’t picture her naked. Idiot she can see right trough you. Fuck, fuck… why am I like this. Watermelon, pineapple, no not pineapple, don’t think about what your sperm will taste if you drink or eat pineapple. Stop it, Peter.
You can contain your laughter at his thoughts. Bruce looks at you, but you quick to tell him that Peter is doing what it does best, overthink everything. “And that’s cute, he’s too concern about me. You know, I have to live without you Spidey.”
“I let you two alone now. Let me know how it goes”.
I am cute? She thinks I am cute. Fuck, she’s still reading my mind. Hi Y/N, hope you like my rumbling thoughts.
He thinks about what he did and saw during is time in college and you sigh in relief. You prefer those kinds of random thoughts, feels more like the radio and you don’t have to focus on what is saying.
“You want to try to get up?” you nod before sitting on you bed. Your head does not spin like you’re drunk anymore. You look at him, he stays right beside your bed, slightly nervous.
“Give me your hand Parker… please”. He holds is hand out for you to reach. You take it and push yourself of your bed. You sigh and grip his forearm with your other hand.
“You good?” you nod too weak to form word. He leads you to the bathroom. You both enter and then you stare at each other.
“H-how do you w-want to- to proceed?” he asks you.
“Maybe you can just turn your back and stay in. And no peaking with the mirror behind you.”
He nods and turns; you’re facing his back. He hears you strip from your clothes and enter the bathtub.
“How was your day?” he scoffs but you continue “it’s nicer for me to hear you with your actual voice and not just your thoughts Pete”. He laughs and then start to tell you everything that happened to him. You interact a bit with him, but you quickly become quiet. He continues to ramble and stop instantly. Something is wrong, he can feel it.
“Y/N, still there?”
“I don’t know” your voice echoes. He doesn’t know what to do, you told him to not look at you while you shower. But he feels that you need help, that you are dissociating.
“Peter?” he hears it three time and he closes his before turning and going to the shower. He trusts his Spidey sense to reach you. When he feels your arm, he grips it.
“Peter” you ask this time able to realise that he is with you under the water. His sweat and his socks are soaking wet, but his eyes are closed.
“You there with me again” he breaths out.
“I am, thanks”. He smiles at you shyly. “Peter?”, he hums. “I can see what you’re thinking” he blushes.
“Sorry?”.
“Why am I always wearing one of your t-shirts?” a strangle laugh lives his lips.
“Because I never saw your naked chest and I don’t want to imagine it. So, you in my t-shirt are good enough.”.
“Oh my god, you such a dork!” he takes his hand of your arm, and you feel like you’re falling. Before you know it, Peter catches you in his arms. Now your naked form is pushed against him. His eyes are still closed, but his breathing becomes erratic.
The water is running down on him. You follow a drop along his jawline, and you feel a wetness between your legs.
“Peter, open your eyes” he shakes is head. Your hands snake along his chest to his cheeks, before tugging in the back of his hair. “That’s why I told Bruce I was not showering with you”.
“Wh-what?” his expression is priceless. He arches his eyebrows, and you can almost see the surprise behind eyelids. Your only response is to connect your lips with his. He quickly kisses you back and push you against the wall.
“you’re soaking wet, Pete”. You whisper when he breaks the kiss. 
“So are you”. This time he opens his eyes shocked by his own words. He meets your big grin, and he blushes.
“You’re a specimen Parker, how can you tell me that and then blush like a twelve years old”, because he is right, you are wet… he is making you wet.
Flashes of you riding him in his shirt comes to your head and you laugh. Peter closes his eyes again to stop his thoughts. “I might just do that if you help me finish showering.” His face and ears are crazy red, and he chuckles.
He helps you and puts you in bed. When you head hits the pillow, you fell asleep. Peter stays a while and watches you. Bruce sneaks in and asks what happened. Peter reports the essential and skip the kissing part. You twitch in your sleep and your hand reach for Peter’s. you interlace your fingers with his and you hum.
“Good, I let you take care of her.” Bruce goes out and Peter does not know what to do. He sits awkwardly on the mattress, a butt cheek hanging out of it.
You can lay with me.
He looks at you. Did you just to talk to him in his head.
Need to note that, Pete. But still, you can lay with me if you want. I like to be the little spoon.
He takes a deep breath and positions himself behind you. You scoot over him and take his arm to put it around your waist.
“Thanks Pete.” You murmur.
He kisses your temple and watches you drift in a deep sleep again.
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skyfallslayer · 2 years
Text
Cherry (Masterlist)
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Main Masterlist
🍒 Summary: As a superhero, you always believe in the good that comes with it, and the feeling of bringing hope to people's eyes makes your heart flutter. That is… Until you witness your teammates murdering your husband. Now your world is upside down, and the people you once deemed your enemies are offering you some help. Will you take the bait? Or bury your head in the sand?
🍒 Pairings: Bucky x Fem!Reader; Platonic!Avengers x Reader; Platonic!Peter x Yelena
🍒 Rating: Explicit
🍒 Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter (This story will contained future 18+ content. Minor DNI)
🍒 Word Count: 9,203
🍒 Start Date: 7/28
🍒 End Date: N/A
🍒 A/N: This AU is inspired by Amazon's The Boys. Only inspired. And for anyone who watches the show, you know that this story will get dark, gory, and very smutty. You'll be warned before each chapter, but read at your own risk. The story and it's plot is the only thing I own.
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//-Index-//
🍒Character Bios:
Meet the Avengers: 001 002 003 004 005 006
Meet the Thunderbolts: 007 008 009 010 011
🍒 Chapter 1: A Crimson Deception?
🍒 Chapter 2: A Red Awakening
🍒 Chapter 3: A Red Awakening II (Coming Soon)
-Taglist is open if you liked to join-
@marvelouslovely-barnes @daddyavesxx
@avengershoney @cjand10 @dumb-fawkin-bitch
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the-underthinker · 2 years
Text
MASTERLIST
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Avengers
Series
- The Avengers are actually Crack Addicts.
Description: Quite Frankly, you’re all idiots. How you guys are able to save the world so many times is an anomaly even you don’t understand, but you try not to think too much about it when you’re having fun.
1 2 3 4 5 
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Steve Rogers
Series
- Home 
Description: Steve Rogers is attempting to find a new purpose in this new world. It isn’t until one day when he decides to finally embark on one last mission before hanging up the suit, that he encounters a few moments with someone who is in need of guidance—just like him.
1 2 3
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cosmal · 1 year
Note
✪ — sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver, ❛ i just wanted to make sure you’re okay. ❜
tequila makes me sleepy
summary — pete comes to find you at a party after you call him.
content — tasm!peter parker x fem!afab!reader, drunk!reader, metnions of gross guys sexualizing reader
Peter doesn't have his mask on. He's been swinging about Queens trying to find the party you're at and he hasn't thought about how he's recognisable the entire time.
He thinks about how tired you'd sounded on the phone. How you'd begged him to stay on the phone so you wouldn't fall asleep. Thinking about it more makes him panicky, but he can't help it.
"Tequila makes me sleepy, Parker."
"Yeah? Where are you, honey?"
"Some party. Stay on the phone? Don't wanna fall asleep."
Eventually, he finds the party. In the back of his dizzy mind, he remembers you mentioning it on Tuesday when you were over at his apartment. He remembers how excited you were about it and how upset you were because he wasn't coming.
He lands in the alley beside the building and wastes no time in pushing through the front door. He stands in the front entranceway and starts to get frustrated. Most of the time, he hates his enhanced senses. Even more so right now because he can't hear you.
He blames it on the crowd. There are way too many people here for him to be focusing on just one. But it's you. He knows more about you than he does himself and he can't fucking hear you. He hopes that he's too overwhelmed. The reason why he can't hear you. Not because you've left and you're somewhere, drunk and unsafe, where he can't find you.
"Hey," he grabs the arm of some drunk guy, "where's the bedroom?"
Pointing down to the left with a wobbly arm, "Down that hall," he slurs.
Peter doesn't say thank you. He drops his arm and heads In that direction. Avoiding PDA and more rowdy drunk guys.
The relief he feels when he pushes open the door only lasts a few moments. He finds you, on your stomach with your face smooshed against your arm, asleep. Your sparkly dress rides up your legs to reveal enough bare skin to make Peter feel uncomfortable. He's grateful he's here right now.
The mattress dips down where he sits down by your head, and can't help himself from pushing your messy hair from your face.
Your lips parted, you wrinkle up your face when you start to rouse. Peter is selfish with his hands, squeezing at the fat of your shoulder, running a knuckle down your soft cheek. Slowly, you come to, blinking away your fatigue. Peter, and he's super sorry for it, thinks you're adorable.
"Hello," he says softly. He doesn't know why, but he feels guilty for waking you.
"Peter," you say, lips sticking together with blotchy gloss, "Pete, hey." This time when you say it, it's just understandable. He appreciates the fond hum to your words nonetheless.
"Hey," he says and pushes his thumb into your cheek. You groan because he's a nuisance but he doesn't care because you're okay.
You sit up on your elbows and he can tell you're trying not to wobble. He wants to stable you but doesn't know how to in your position. You seem as dizzy as he'd expect because you always are when drunk. You have the scars on your knees to prove it.
"What are you doing here?" you mumble, scratching at your face with a flippancy he hates.
He catches your hand and rubs your face for you. Gently, because he's not mean, he smooths the back of his hand down your cheek and pushes his fingers over your eyebrow and into your hair.
"Just wanted to make sure you were okay," he tells you. "You sounded bad on the phone, honey."
"Shit, I'm," you hiccup and he panics for a moment. "Shit I'm sorry, Pete, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's okay," he says honestly. You did scare him but it's okay now because it was reasonable. And you're okay.
You sit up and swing your legs over the edge of the bed and he stables you with a hand on the bottom of your back. Pulling your dress down your legs, he frowns when you shiver.
"You cold?" he worries.
Nodding, you clearly regret it with a groan. "A little. This dress is horrible."
"You think?"
"Yeah, it's itchy and-" you're hiccuping some more and he hopes you don't make yourself sick, "it's too small. The guys here- they, they're gross."
Peter goes rigid. "They didn't do anything did they?"
You shake your head and there's a timidness to you that Pete wants to capture and keep forever. You, an image, rumpled clothes and droopy eyes. Despite how worried he'd been only ten minutes ago, he thinks you're amazing. It's terrifying, honestly.
"No, they just look at me..." you trail off and look at the wall over Peter's shoulder quickly, "They look at me like I'm a piece of meat."
Peter doesn't know what to say. He feels queasy.
"Well, they don't look at me like you are right now."
"Like what?" he lets his tongue catch up to his head.
"I don't know." You shrug and look at your lap.
Peter can't help himself. "I hope they don't look at you like I do. Like you're the prettiest girl in the room. If they do, they need to find someone else."
You let your head fall against his shoulder. "Pete..."
"It's true."
"They don't." He can hear your smile.
"They don't?" Peter now sounds half-offended. "Who else are they looking at like that? You're the prettiest girl in the room."
You have the decency in you to scoff. "You're unbelievable."
"I know," he says when you yawn. "I know. C'mon let's get you home."
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kurorama · 11 months
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Hallway Runaways
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Peter Parker x Stark!reader
IN WHICH you are on the verge of taking Peter’s virginity on your 18th birthday, but god forbid your father and teammates just have to interrupt the moment.
WC: 3.6k
Warnings: Mentions of sex, tony stark is a warning of his own, making out, reader is Tony’s adopted daughter, getting caught, semi-public sexual encounters, grinding.
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The sound of your heels clicking against the cold tiled floor was all that could be heard resonating around the vacant hallway. Well that apart from the few sounds of complaint that’s left Peter’s mouth, as well as the muffled laughter that escaped yourself. You were more than done with this chase, the hallways were dark and you knew that Peter had a better advantage than you in this situation because of his enhanced senses.
Why was Peter Parker chasing you exactly? Well it had all started while the both of you were just a few floors below with the rest of the avengers, where you should’ve been right now. Today was finally your 18th birthday, and having Tony Stark as a father meant no little celebration. Even if it was just with the people that you considered family, he’d find a way to make everything extravagant and boujee. 
Though you had to admit as you looked past the overdoing of your father, it truly was an enjoyable evening in the company of the people you loved, a certain spiderman a little more than the others. Dinner was passed by a wonderful meal and a few dirty jokes made by none other than your father, making a reddish colour rise on Peter’s neck. You found his ability to get flustered by little to nothing so adorable, the cutest virgin that you knew, there was no doubt in that. 
Everyone was finally settled, apart from the constantly arguing Asgardian brothers, one of which Tony had begrudgingly invited. The sight of the innocent Peter trailing around with his eyes glued to his phone aroused an idea from the corners of your mind. He was most probably scrolling on some news report about Spiderman, given the goofy smile on his face, and he could most probably feel you sneaking up to him because of his spidey senses. Though he played into your game, allowing you to rip the phone from his oddly loose grip and run away from him, not without throwing in a tentative sentence to get him going. 
It wasn’t anything weird to Peter, although it should be. Two 18 year olds chasing one another like children down the halls of your father’s tower. It was even more absurd as you both got onto the tower's elevator, standing beside each other quietly like you both hadn’t been in a friendly chase. He wasn’t even sure that those stilettos of yours were meant for this chase, but he’d always be there to catch you heroically if you ever did fall back. 
Peter couldn’t help a smile from forming on his face as he watched your figure stagger before him, managing to catch yourself before slipping embarrassingly on your face. He observed the way you bent your knees slightly before turning to the curve, running straight as though you had a clear idea of where you wanted to go.
To be honest with himself, Peter had developed feelings for you ever since Tony had introduced the both of you. 
The smirk on your father’s face went unnoticed as you both stared at each other upon first meeting, unspeaking as you took in every single feature of the other in. His feelings only continued to grow for you as time went by, having his heart race manically against his ribcage as you treated his wounds with such intense care and a delicacy that he ignored you could hold, being a Stark and all. 
Now as he ran with you idiotically, the suit that he had borrowed from your father swaying with the speed, he couldn’t help but feel an intense feeling of ecstasy. You both rounded the corner before Peter had spotted it, the familiar view of your room door. He was no stranger to your intentions, hiding away behind your closed door with his unlocked phone in hand. Not like he had much to hide, just the thousand word essay of confessions that he sent to Ned about his feelings towards you, nothing to fret about. 
You let out a sound of surprise once you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your midsection, trapping you against a chiselled chest that you knew much of. It seemed like Peter’s mind had finally caught up on the fact that you could discover his very badly hidden feelings towards you as you held his phone in your hand.
“Thought you could get away from me? Must I remind you that I’m piderman?” Peter breathed out, his warm breath fanning your neck as he spoke. His hands were still gripping onto your hips unrelentlessly, making the option of you ripping away from his hold completely futile. Instead you opted with thrashing around in his arms, though the pair of you burst out laughing as you realised that your strength really was nothing compared to Peter’s. 
The fabric of your dress scrunched up around your middle as you struggled in his embrace, riding up your thighs as you felt the cool air hitting the previously covered area. Finally, the thrashing stopped as you gave up, leaning your whole body against Peter as you craned your neck back so that the top of your head was flushed against him. 
Peter gulped as he tried to ignore the feeling of you being so pressed up against him, in certain areas more than others. He closed his eyes for a second, head tilting upwards towards the ceiling as he audibly gulped. Aunt May had taught him to be a gentleman and to respect women, but god was it hard to retain the rush of blood ploughing towards his nethers as the girl of his dreams was literally  pushed up on him. 
Peter brought a hand up towards his head of curls, running a hand through them as he tried to soothe his nerves. God forbid he popped a boner right there against you, in the middle of the fucking hallways. He wasn’t sure that he’d ever mentally recover if it did happen, or even worse, if you reacted badly to it. Who was he kidding, of course you’d react badly to your best friend being completely bricked up from just playing fight with yo-
“Peter…” the whisper of his name brought him back to the current moment, his mind hesitating at your tone. You moved your body slightly to meet his gaze, and at that moment Peter had understood why you had called out for him. 
Shit
He nearly let out a satisfied groan as your hips brushed against his, but he managed to save himself from further embarrassment. He was frozen in fear, unwilling to believe that his body had betrayed him in such a way. Though Peter was able to keep his spiderman secret away from many people, the evident tent in his pants was much harder to hide. Especially when you had already seen it, yet even felt it. 
Oh and how much he wished for the floor to open up and swallow him whole at the moment, until the soft touch of your hand on his arm woke him up from his pity party. 
“Hey, what’s going on in that little brain of yours?” you attempted to joke, bringing a closed fist up towards his head as you knocked on it. Peter tried to stifle a tiny laugh as you joked about the size of his brain, that for sure was anything but little. “You don’t have to be ashamed Peter, I-I mean things like this are natural and you can’t control it at times.” 
You tried to reassure him, bringing a hand to caress the man’s cheek softly. Though his eyes were still full of humiliation and discomfort, looking for some sort of exit that he could run off to if anything went bad. 
“If anything I apologise, I shouldn't have been all pressed up against you like this..” you knew that it was stupid of you to apologise, given that you had nothing to be sorry for, but you weren’t about to let your bestfriend drown in embarrassment any longer. 
“No-no I mean, I'm the one that pulled you in and everything…” he looked away, avoiding your gaze at all cost as he spoke slowly. “Look, I’m so-so sorr-“ 
You cut off the rambling boy with the smooth slip of your lips against his, knocking him back slightly as he nearly stumbled from shock. He looked like the cutest idiot like this, his eyes wide open as he stared down at you to confirm if this was all real, though your eyes were closed, he reckoned that he should be doing the same. Once the initial surprise had passed him, Peter allowed himself to lean into the kiss more. His hands hesitantly but firmly regained their position onto your hips as he squeezed the flesh there, scrunching the already out-of-place, heightened fabric of your dress. 
Your lips were so soft and they moved fluidly against his own, like they were meant to be together. Peter couldn’t help himself but pull you flush against him once he felt your arms wrapping against his neck, pulling out an audible gasp out of you as his little problem resurfaced once more. 
Breaking the kiss, you both couldn’t help but burst out laughing for whatever reason. Maybe from the stupid flow of events, or most probably because Thor had slipped (with much consent) some of his Asgardian alcohol into your drinks. Whatever, it helped cease the previous tension that was drowning you both, now reduced to dust as you both stared into each other’s eyes so tenderly. 
“I always knew you had a little something for me, Spider-man.” you teased Peter, bringing your other hand up to caress the soft skin of his cheeks. Holding back the urge to giggle at the rise of pinkish colour along his neck, you leaned impossibly closer to him. 
“Oh and please, if by little you mean enormous, then sure u do!” Peter joked, making the both of you double over with laughter. Somewhat his joke was not even close to being funny, but something about this moment made everything that came out of Peter’s mouth so amusing to you. 
Suddenly, Peter’s laughter was cut short as he felt your hand dip from his cheeks and onto the area at the back of his neck. He suppressed a shudder as you ran your fingers up and down across the shorter hairs at the back of his head, and his smile dropped completely as his eyes crossed your own. God, that extreme feeling of nervousness was resurfacing and suddenly, the tightness in his pants was made 100x more aware. 
“I can help you with that, if you want me to.” you whispered quietly as if you were talking to yourself, but Peter had heard you as clear as day. The hairs on his arms raised at your choice of words, he knew exactly what you meant, and damn was he ready for it. The look in your eyes just screamed ‘desire’ to Peter, and he’d be lying if he said his didn’t reflect the same feeling. The shy little nod of his head made you chuckle slightly to yourself. 
His chest tightened as one of your hands lowered towards his abdomen, caressing your way down his body. You maintained eye contact with him all the way down his stomach, searching in them if this was okay for you to do. His eyes were unrelenting, swirling with passion as he gave you the go to continue your hand’s trail. 
Your left hand ended up on his upper thigh, teasing Peter as you were millimetres away from relieving the ache in his pants. You couldn’t help but admit that the fine material of your father’s pants (Tony had passed them to Peter because let’s be real, he was too broke to afford his own) felt uncomfortable under your own fingertips. You wanted to feel skin, raw, naked skin belonging to the boy that was currently looming over you. 
Your other hand was still busy playing with Peter’s hair as his were still glued to your hips. Without any type of warning, Peter pursued your lips in a bruising kiss. The sheer force of the kiss nearly sent you tumbling back, but his strong grip kept you grounded. Peter kissed you with a passion that you ignored a virgin boy could hold, you could only imagine the things that he was going to do to you. Or the things that he wishes you would do to him.
Top or bottom tonight, it didn’t matter to you. As long as you got to spend the night with the boy that haunted your feelings, then you’d be able to die happy. 
You both kissed until you felt your lungs yelling at you for air, breaking away reluctantly from each other to breathe in loudly. His lips didn’t stray much further as they were back on yours just as quickly as they left. Unexpectedly, you dipped your hand a little lower to cup the bulge in Peter’s pants, urging for any type of reaction from him. His first instinct was to gasp, the feeling of your touch felt so gratifying after the minutes spent ignoring his little problem. 
You wasted no time to take advantage of his newfound pleasured state, slipping your tongue into his mouth as you led the kiss. Peter was quick to recover after that, his tongue fighting against yours for dominance. He was a little sloppy, and you could tell that he had kissed before but never to this extent. You weren’t complaining though, his eagerness sent a sharp tingly feeling towards your core. 
The hushed groans and moan that left Peter’s mouth as you continuously rubbed him felt like music to your ears. He was definitely a very vocal man in that domain, and you were going to enjoy every single second of it. It was your turn to groan as you felt Peter’s hands pushing you towards the walls of the hallway, trapping you between his arms as you continued your assault in each other’s mouth. 
When your lungs began to burn once more, your mouth left the man’s to rest your face in between the crook of his neck. He was so close to you, close enough that you could feel his hardened cock brushing against your lower stomach. You could hear his laboured breathing picking up the pace as you rubbed him faster, getting enough of the pieces of fabric that was separating you both. 
Your hand rushed towards the buckle of his belt, only to stutter halfway as you wondered if he was actually ready for all of this. You didn’t want Peter to wake up tomorrow regretting everything that had happened between you two, you weren’t sure that your heart could handle the heartbreak. Though at the feeling of Peter’s lips leaving slobbery kisses against your neck, you knew that he was more than ready for it. 
Without further hesitation, his buckle fell easily under your skilled fingers. Pulling the leather stripe from the belt loops made Peter’s hips collide with yours once more, making your movements rush with anticipation. Oh and you were so close to finally touching him, giving the man the release that he desired and deserved so much. Your hand pulled as his zipper, dipping into his pants just when-
“Wow-“ the familiar booming voice had you both freezing for a second, before you quickly rushed off each other. Peter was sure that his cheeks must’ve been beet red, not only from the previous rush of hands and feelings, but from the fact that you had both been caught by no other than your father. 
You brushed your dress down, fixing the fabric that had scrunched up under his grip. You were burning with embarrassment, and as much as you wished that you didn’t need to face your father, you knew that you had to be the first one to do it. Peter was still busy fumbling with his belt, the leathery fabric slipping under his sweaty, anxious fingers. 
As you turned around to see the probably disgusted face of your father, you were met with the sight of not one, but two other Avengers. Thor, that was probably too shit-faced to even remember this event by tomorrow morning, and the poor bruce that had most probably been dragged here against his will. If you didn’t wanna kill yourself before, this definitely made you want to start digging your own grave. 
“I see that you two have found each other, given that we were all searching for you both earlier.” Tony teased, as per usual. Even after finding his daughter in such a compromising position with his intern, his first instinct was to tease you both about it. Sure enough, the disgusted expression did come afterwards.  
“I’m sure they found waaaay more than just each other!” Thor laughed loudly, patting your father harshly amongst the bag with those huge arms. You watched as your dad threw the Asgardian man a look while Bruce simply smiled sympathetically at you both. Now that Peter had finally been able to fasten his belt, he was now standing besides you with a mirroring guilty expression. Maybe, making out as two horny young-adults in the middle of the hallways was not the ideal thing to do after all. 
You both snapped your heads back towards Tony as he cleared his throat. Now that he had stopped moving weirdly to retain Thor from hitting him on the back once more, you noticed the cold bottle of champagne that was gripped tightly between his fingers. The expensive bottle cost nearly nothing to the billionaire, he lifted it in the air for you both to see, unafraid of it falling to its peril. 
“We came looking for you both to cut the cake and have a drink, but it seems like you two were a little busy,” Tony raised his eyebrows at Peter, his eyes shaded by his dark glasses. You could hear a slight tone of irritation in his voice, but after all what dad wouldn't be after catching his daughter fondling with some guy in plain air. He sighed at both of your silences, clearly too embarrassed to even form the words. 
After a few seconds of further awkward silence, you watched as your father tumbled through his pocket in the search of something. Checking every single of his suit pockets, he finally found what he was looking for. 
“That’s for you, boy.” was all that came out from Tony’s mouth as he pulled out a piece of square packaging from his pocket, throwing it towards Peter, who caught it square with the help of his abilities. His eyes widened at the packaged condom that now sat flat on his hands, fumbling to put it in his pocket as he tried to mutter something back to your father, although he was quicker than Peter. He always was. 
“Don’t need no lil’ Parker’s runnin’ wild round this tower anytime soon, one’s already enough,” he teased, whispering the last part to himself. “Now, I'm gonna call you both in around 10 minutes for all of us to gather. No Fonduing with my daughter in that time-range, got it Underoos?” 
Although your father’s tone was playful at the start of his sentence, you could see his stare harden as he finished. You were drowning in embarrassment from the moment that they had walked in on you both, and your father running his mouth just made you sink further down the waters of shame. Finally, after what felt like hours, you were rejoiced to see the backs of your father and teammates as they walked back towards the elevator. 
You heard Peter release a loud breath of relief once the elevator tinged, shoving your hands towards your face as you tried to shove the embarrassment away. Great, you were most likely sure that this whole thing had killed Peter’s boner. You wanted nothing more than to give him a memorable moment for his first time, but it seemed like life was really against you. 
“Hey…” you flinched as you felt Peter’s hand upon your shoulder, suddenly turning around to meet his face. There was guilt swirling all up in his beautiful brown iris, even though none of this was his fault. 
“I’m sorry for…all of this,” you mention towards the area where the 3 Avengers previously were, making Peter chuckle. “It’s a mood killer I know, I just wanted you to have a good time.” you looked down, all the previous feelings catching up to you. 
“Aye, aye, aye. None of that!” Peter urged forward, gripping your jaw gently into his hand, the other resting softly on your cheek. You couldn’t help the smile that drew itself on your face at his actions, always such a gentleman despite the situation. He smiled right back at you, and you felt your heart race at the view. Nobody could lie and say that Peter wasn’t an attractive man, everything about him was desirable and you wanted to prove that to him. 
“If anything, the mood is definitely not killed.” he muttered, making you tilt your head to the side in confusion of his words before he pulled you in again by the hips. You gasped as you felt it, his arousal that poked you once more by the lower stomach. Peter chuckled at your expression, feeling the newfound confidence radiating off his body. 
“We can't fondue right now, but there’s a whole world of other things that I can show you in under 10 minutes.” Peter looked down into your list filled eyes as you sunk onto your knees. He gulped and damn if you didn’t show him a whole new world tonight, you offered him the whole galaxy. 
-
this didn’t take the romantic turn that i was expecting it to but oh well.
2K notes · View notes
readerthatreadsss · 1 year
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Requesting more dom!peter 😮‍💨🥵
𝗔/N: Your request is my command! (especially since I've been searching for more dom!Peter fics myself and have been failing so I might as well do it my damn self!) Also, yeah, it's been a damn long time lmao. I planned to finish up and release this like 4 months ago. Then a whole bunch of bad shit happened and I kinda gave up on writing for a little bit (outside of school cause I need that damn Bachelor's degree) BUT I've slowly started reading again and that bled into me opening up my drafts and finding this and spending some time with it. If you couldn't tell I had a shit ton of fun with this one...so feel free to check my newly updated Masterlist and request guidelines and send me more requests! The more I get, the more I'm gonna force myself to actually write them. (If you already sent one just know I’m working on it I promise)
𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 | 𝗧𝗮𝘀𝗺!𝗣𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
(heavily inspired by the song with the same title by Adele.) It came up in my shuffle and when I started listening to the lyrics it was just too perfect.
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he's so fucking pretty aghhhh (gif not mine)
𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: Tasm!Peter Parker x Vigilante!Fem reader
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.6k+ (This is my big comeback so I might as well feed yall)
𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: You and Peter have been broken up for about 3 years, but when an impromptu visit to your apartment takes a turn...that may no longer be the case...
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 (𝟭𝟴+ 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗡𝗜): SMUT!, lil bit of angst at the end (ex to lovers so ofc), minimal use of y/n, P*rn-with-plot, Reader and Peter are FERAL for each other because of their powers (enhanced senses and all that), p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), a lil possessive Peter, oral (r receiving), fingering, praise kink, Peter using his webs to restrain reader (pre-consented ofc), dom!Peter, sub!Reader (bratty at first tho), pet names (sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, angel), choking, rough sex, brief spanking, other positions, creampie, etc...
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The remaining sunlight of the evening bled through your wide studio apartment windows as you finished folding what was left of your newly washed laundry. The plan for the rest of the evening was simple;
Drink two bottles of wine (knowing that your enhanced metabolism would sober the effects), catch up on a few missing assignments to keep your NYU professors off your ass, then jump into your suit and go patrolling.
It was a familiar routine.
Or at least, it had been...since he left.
Your relationship with him ended during your first year of college. To say it hurt like hell would be an immense understatement.
What hurt the most was the fact that you both gave everything you had to make it work...but long distance can be a bitch.
On that warm Saturday night in May, your ex-boyfriend received a call informing him that he had been accepted into a very prestigious engineering program (with a full-ride scholarship attached) all the way in California.
You applied for the very same program, so you knew just how big of an opportunity it would be. And, in good faith, you pushed him to take the offer.
You both insisted, "we'll make it work," and "we'll video chat and text every day. It'll be fine!"
What a load of horseshit.
It took 6 months for you to both arrive at the conclusion that you couldn't juggle your individual academic loads, your nighttime hero personas, AND a long-distance relationship all at the same time. A three-hour time difference didn't help matters either.
It took a while, but you eventually moved on. You kept your grades up, went on a few dates here and there, and even managed to convince yourself that you were doing fine without him.
Until...
*knock knock knock*
Your head peeked out from the fridge to look where you heard the strong yet hesitant knocks on your front door.
Only a handful of people knew where you lived and you weren't expecting to see any of them today.
Assuming it would be a postal worker or someone along those lines, you swung open the door with a polite smile.
"Hi-"
You felt your voice die in your throat as you locked eyes with the deep brown ones you hadn't seen in three years.
"Peter," his name fell from your lips, barely audible.
"Hi, Y/N," he replied with that awkward grin you knew all too well.
His hair was shorter than the last time you saw him, but from the tight fit of his jacket, you could see that was about the only thing about him that shrunk.
You wanted to actually hit yourself in the head for actually imagining yourself doing many things to his large...meaty...biceps- NO, no, no, no get a grip! a voice of logic sounded in your mind.
You hadn't realized how long you stood there silently sizing him up until he spoke again. "Can I...uh...come in, maybe?"
"Umm...sure," you nervously answered, finally taking note of the small cardboard box he was holding.
As you stepped aside to allow him entrance into your apartment, his familiar scent invaded your sensitive senses.
"Oh God," you muttered under your breath, knowing that he heard you, yet unaware that your scent had basically the same effect on him as well.
"You alright?" he turned and asked you in concern trying to hide the tightening of his jeans with the box he brought.
You nodded way too fast, promptly putting some distance between yourself and him. He hadn't been there for longer than 5 seconds and he was already having an effect on you.
"How've you been?" he questioned you, scratching his neck and actively avoiding eye contact. Unbeknownst to you, he was currently repeating every physics law he could remember in his mind to try to quell his growing erection.
It wasn't working very well.
"I've been fine. You?" you quickly spoke, slightly out of breath.
"I-uh-I'm alright," he shook his head with a tight-lipped smile.
He soon found himself just looking at you. It wasn't a blank stare, no, it was the sort of intense look you unintentionally gave someone when trying to commit every single feature to memory as if you weren't certain when you'd get another chance to.
It was a habit of his you noticed a lot when you were dating. And just as it did back then, it sent chills running rampant down your spine. Not to mention your nipples growing obviously hard behind your large shirt with no bra to hide it.
Peter noticed it immediately and fought back a smile, which you glimpsed.
"Why are you here, Peter?" you decided to get down to business before your body betrays you any further.
The brunette let the question hang in the air for a few seconds before actually coming up with an answer. "I wanted to drop these off," he placed the small box on your kitchen counter.
Your eyes immediately narrowed. "You could have mailed it. Or you could've just dropped it at the door and then left. So why are you really here Peter?" you would have felt worse about your tone if you weren't so bothered.
Why the hell did he feel the need to suddenly show up and make you start feeling things you swore you wouldn't feel for him again?
Peter took a deep breath. "Aunt May called me last week. She's not doing too good. So, I came back to help take care of her."
You felt your stomach sink at his words. While you both dated, May grew to be like a second mother to you. You had no idea she was sick.
"Oh shit Peter-I'm so sorry," you crossed the room to engulf him in a hug, despite your initial reaction to his visit.
Peter immediately accepted your hug and found the anxiety in his body dissipating soon after. Your hugs tended to have that effect on him.
He couldn't stop himself from deeply inhaling and drawing in your hair's familiar scent when he wrapped his hands around your clothed waist.
A few seconds passed before you released each other, with you also savoring the feel of his body against you and the way how your skin lit up with goosebumps though there was a thin layer of clothing separating his hands from you.
"I was just cleaning up my old room at May's and I found some of your stuff so I figured I'd drop by and..."
You nodded in understanding and walked over to where he placed the box.
It was mostly filled with old t-shirts, tools, and gadgets from days when you would sleep over at Peter's or stop by to help each other with school projects.
"Thanks," you sent him a smile as you closed the box.
Your smile warmed Peter's heart. It was actually his second favorite thing about you, after your hugs of course. "Yeah, you're welcome," he smiled back, running his hand through his hair. It was a mess by now, but you still wanted to run your hands through it…or maybe even pull on it-
"Sorting through some of this stuff made me realize how much I...missed you," he said, his tone growing more assured.
Thankfully, you were still facing away from him, not giving him the chance to catch the pained expression that briefly crossed your face.
But you could feel him slowly approaching your frozen figure and found your body silently reacting in ways it shouldn't be, yet again. "Do you miss me?" he asked, his voice heavy.
You held back the urge to scream "Yes!" because admitting that out loud would be taking 3 steps backward.
Admitting that you missed him would be undoing all the work and tears you put into moving on from him and the hopes and dreams you had for a life with him.
Admitting that you missed him would mean giving in to the part of you that thought back to your most intimate moments with him when you touched yourself.
And admitting that you missed him would mean letting him back into the four-cornered box you had locked yourself in for the past 3 years.
But, with every step closer that he took, your resolve disappeared that much faster.
"You okay?" he called for your attention.
Your sharp intake of oxygen brought a tense silence over the room when you turned to face him and realized that he stood close enough for your lips to nearly brush his.
"Peter, I-" you tried to form words, but then you saw his lust-filled brown eyes lower to your lips.
And that was all it took for the last of your self-control to disappear.
"Damn it," you mumbled once you realized what was about to happen.
Before Peter could question your outburst, you found yourself latching onto his jacket lapels and pulling him down to meet your lips.
It took mere milliseconds for Peter to react. After all, he had been thinking about doing this since you swung open the door and looked up at him with those eyes of yours.
His large calloused hands took hold of the sides of your face as you clashed in a heap of teeth and tongue. It was desperate and feverish but it was perfect.
It was a language only you and Peter seemed to master, even now after three years apart.
Your lips moved swiftly against his, eager to taste more and more of him with each passing second. You felt him press his growing bulge flush against you, causing a pathetic whine to involuntarily tumble from your lips and a smirk to find its way onto his.
"I did miss you," you softly spoke, "but we can't do this Peter," the logical part of your brain made an appearance, though you kept peppering his lips with kisses.
As his lips moved to your neck, Peter's hands slid down to your ass where he effortlessly lifted your legs off the ground and up around his waist. The feeling of his hands against the bare skin of your thighs garnered yet another moan from you.
"You don't sound so sure angel," you felt him smirk against your heated skin.
You hadn’t heard that nickname in years yet it sent small chills down your spine for the second time that night.
A mumbled curse slipped your lips when he nipped a particular spot below your ear. That was definitely gonna leave a mark.
You soon gathered the strength to pull Peter's hungry lips away from your body, swinging your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.
"We can’t go back from this, you know that right?" you spoke, the both of you panting from the effects of the last minute.
"I don't wanna go back," Peter shook his head, "I wanna fuck you, right here, right now," his lips immediately found yours before his words could fully resonate.
This caught you by surprise which allowed Peter to slip his tongue between your lips.
As his taste continued to flood your senses, you felt yourself grow alarmingly wet.
Peter knew it too because he slowly pulled back and smirked down at you. "I could smell you from the moment I walked in here. Glad to see three years hasn't changed the way your body reacts to me, angel," he accompanied his words with a quick slap to your ass.
His slap and the familiar pet name left you a moaning mess. Just like he knew it would.
A lovely laugh left Peter's mouth before his lips met yours again.
He walked your entangled bodies over to the kitchen counter without breaking the sloppy kiss.
Peter used one hand to blindly clear the counter and place you on it, which sent your box of things flying toward the floor.
Not that either of you cared.
"Too much clothes," you were barely able to say in between kisses.
You followed up by shoving Peter's jacket off his shoulders which fell to your hardwood floors with a thud. He immediately got the message and got rid of his t-shirt as well.
A shameless whimper left your lips at the sight of his very toned muscles. You easily maneuvered Peter's body closer to you and began kissing and sucking his neck and every other available inch of skin just as you had pictured earlier, making sure to leave a few purple bruises in your wake.
“You’re killing me here baby,” Peter harshly swallowed, his eyes sliding closed as you continued to have your way with his chest.
"Wouldn't be a terrible way to die though, right?" you mumbled between lovebites and licks. You felt like an animal in heat but you just couldn't get enough of him, the occasional flex of his muscles with each slither of your tongue and his deep groans only egging you on more.
The taste of his skin alone could've made you cum easily.
But the same could be said for Peter as the feel of your tongue slithering all along his chest had him practically creaming his pants then and there.
Fucking enhanced senses, he cursed inwardly.
“Alright, ease up pretty girl,” he reluctantly grabbed your head, detaching your swollen lips from his body.
“Your turn,” he tugged at the hem of your top.
You quickly pulled off the oversized t-shirt you were wearing to reveal your bare top half to him.
He spared no time in cupping your breasts with his eager hands. "Fuck, I missed you so much," he mumbled.
"Me, or my boobs?" you jokingly raised a brow at him.
"Definitely both," he grinned, bringing his mouth down to your tits.
As his tongue made contact with the soft mounds, you loudly moaned and wrapped your fingers in his unruly tangle of hair.
He switched between nipping and sucking on your nipples, in the way he knew you liked, while his free hand pinched and squeezed the other.
"Just like that Peter fuck-" hearing his name fall from your lips drove Peter insane.
His tongue flicked your sensitive nipples harder, and his eager sucking pleased you to no end.
Peter eventually pried himself away from your supple breasts, remembering the other parts of you he wanted to worship, and brought his hands to rest on the sides of your head. Your lips connected once more in a delicate kiss.
Though you knew what lay ahead for the evening, you were both perfectly content with each other's lips at the moment, just enjoying the constant waves of pleasure from the intimate contact.
But it wasn't long before the kiss grew heated and you tried to take control. Peter, however, wasn't giving you a chance.
"I leave for three years and you think you're hot shit, huh," he smirked.
"Why don't you ask the guy I fucked on this counter last week," you retorted, knowingly riling him up.
"Don't say shit like that, it's not funny," he nearly growled as his grip on your ass grew more forceful.
You secured your grip on his hair before pressing a small kiss on the side of his lips. "Gimme a reason to shut up then," you challenged him.
“Trust me, I will,” Peter grabbed your hands from his hair and forced them to your sides. His movements were swift as he laid you flat on your counter and ripped your thong off your body.
There he is, you smiled to yourself. This is the Peter you wanted to fucking ruin you.
You felt his face ghost your drenched opening as he deeply inhaled your scent. "You smell fucking delicious baby," he praised you, his mouth actually watering at the thought of tasting you.
A genuine smile found its way onto your face but morphed into a gasp when Peter teasingly ran his tongue up your sensitive slit.
"You taste even better," he added, using his strong arms to bring your thighs closer to his head. He wanted to tease you but it was getting harder to resist the urge to dive right into your heat like a man starved.
"Holy shit," you all but screamed as he briefly nipped at your swollen clit before sucking on it to soothe the sting.
His grip on your thighs combined with the ministrations of his tongue was pure bliss.
You attempted to slip your hands in his hair once more, but found that they were suddenly held in place against your counter by two of his webs.
Your eyes briefly widened at the feel of the rough, sticky material against your wrists, not having felt it in a few years. Back then, you expressed to Peter your desire to engage in some bondage, but being the daughter of a super soldier, it was clear that no rope or wire would be able to hold you. Peter's webs became the next best choice.
"That's not fair," you pouted, though it melded into a moan as Peter continued to suck and lick between your glistening folds.
The sounds of Peter devouring you resounded through the small apartment.
"I'm close Pete," you whined, your chest heaving in arousal.
Peter decided to focus his tongue on your eager bundle of nerves while he slowly inserted two fingers into your pussy. He instantly curled the digits causing you to briefly squirm at the sudden pressure against your G-spot.
"More," you begged, and Peter delivered, adding another finger inside of you. He immediately sped up his motion inside of you, making sure his fingers gauged that spongy spot to drive you over the edge with each thrust inside of you.
“That feels so fucking good, Peter, oh my God," you loudly moaned at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, calling forth an orgasm with no warning.
You repeatedly bucked against Peter's face as you came, white-hot pleasure filling your veins. Peter locked onto your stare, still skillfully working his fingers in and out of you, loving the way you constantly clenched around his fingers.
"Jesus fucking Christ," your legs jerked when Peter dove in and drank every ounce of slick you had to give while still fucking you with his fingers.
With his face now damp of your juices, Peter looked up to meet your blissed-out eyes. "Gimme one more, angel," he placed a soft kiss on your thighs, "I know you can do it for me."
You would do anything to keep Peter's mouth between your legs.
So, you eagerly nodded in response before taking a deep breath in preparation for another onslaught.
You didn't have to wait long.
Peter’s tongue went to work on your glistening hole while his fingers fiddled with your overstimulated clit. And, within minutes, your thighs were trapping Peter's head as an even bigger orgasm rocked you again, the borderline pornographic sounds leaving your lips shooting straight to his hardened cock.
Peter seemed perfectly fine with staying between your legs all night, but you had other plans.
"Pete, I need you inside me," you begged, tears of pleasure leaking from your eyes.
He rose from beneath you and climbed up to free your hands from his webs. "I know, baby, I know," he softly replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips and using his hands to soothe your reddened wrists. Your own taste on his tongue flooded your senses which made you even more desperate.
Peter obliged, slipping out of his sweatpants and sliding his girth between your folds. He used one hand to hold himself up above you on the counter, and the other to slowly guide his dick into you.
You both shared a long moan as he buried himself to the hilt inside your pussy, your wetness making it way too easy.
He held still for a few seconds, waiting for you to adjust and give the all clear for him to move.
Eagerness guided your words. “Fuck me, please.”
Peter set a brutal pace, knowing you were more than capable of handling it. Satisfied cries left your chest as you dragged your nails along Peter’s back, hard enough to leave trails.
“You can take it, pretty girl, I know you can,” he groaned as he continued to pound into you, trying desperately not to blow his load with the way you were constantly clenching around him and marking his back.
You tried to reply, but all that you could form were sloppy moans and broken syllables.
“Oh look at you, drunk on my cock already?” he teased with a particularly hard slam that prodded your cervix, “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
Pleasure-filled cries mingled with words continued to fall from your lips as Peter gently moved a few fallen strands of hair behind your ear with a hand. "-feels so fucking perfect," you muttered, your lips curved into a drunken smile.
Peter reached down and pinched one of your nipples, gaining a loud whimper from you. “I love hearing you make those pretty sounds for me baby,” his strokes grew harder and deeper.
“All for you, Pete, all for you,” you panted as he fucked into you, the delicious smell and sound of sex lingering in the air.
Peter used a hand to wrap around your throat before using the other to reach down and fiddle with your aching clit.
The combination of Peter’s dick hitting that perfect spot, his fingers massaging your clit, and the lack of air from his hand around your neck was making you dizzy and overstimulated.
You fucking loved it.
“God, I missed you,” you spoke breathlessly.
He moved closer to kiss you briefly and tenderly. “I missed you too, baby.”
No amount of time could take away his knowledge on how to please you, how to get you like this with ease, not when you were all he thought about for years on end.
Peter pressed a quick kiss to your forehead then continued to fuck you on your kitchen counter.
"I'm gonna cum again baby, right fucking there," you moaned out.
Peter's grip on your neck grew tighter. "Not yet, don't you cum until I tell you to sweetheart," he commanded you, removing his fingers from your clit.
A frustrated groan rumbled in your chest as you forced yourself to sustain your orgasm.
"Don't pout," he smirked.
And before you could realize it, Peter had pulled out of you and effortlessly flipped you onto your stomach.
A hand soon gripped your hair, yanking you up against his chest and eliciting a pitiful whine from you.
"Tell me what you want,” Peter commanded, using his free hand to strike your ass. Hard.
You whimpered again at the sting of his slap. “I need you inside me. Please,” you pleaded.
He seized your hair harsher and leaned forward for his lips to graze against your ears. “Beg.”
A small whine left your lips at his words. You were so desperate you didn’t even care how embarrassing this would be in retrospect. “I need to cum, Peter. Please baby you're the only one who can make me cum.”
Peter pressed a kiss to your neck, nearly causing you to lose your footing. And he soon complied by ramming himself back into you.
“Oh my Fuck-“ you cried before biting your lip, suddenly aware that you had neighbors.
But Peter pulled his cock from your heat, with just the tip remaining, before roughly slamming into you, his hips slamming against your ass with the motion. “Come on, lemme hear you angel.”
He repeated the action, knocking the air out of your chest, “Peter!” your hands gripped the sides of your counter with such force you were sure you felt it crack under your grasp.
Peter caught wind of this and freed your hair before using his hands to pull your hands behind your back. "You're so perfect baby," he mumbled in your ear, continuing to brutally fuck you from behind, "So fucking beautiful with my cock inside you."
"I can't hold it anymore," you cried, "I need to cum, Peter, please."
With that whiny tone and those overstimulated tears to top it off, Peter couldn't deny you any longer. "Let it all out for me sweetheart. Cum for me," he littered your shoulders with kisses.
Your eyes slammed shut as your walls contracted around his cock, pleasure shooting through you and rocking you on a seemingly cellular level. Your mouth opened in a silent moan, unable to form a sound from the satisfied tremors attacking your nerves. The intensity of your finish is one only brought on when Peter fucked you and it was damn near cosmic.
"Shit," you groaned in relief, your long-awaited climax passing.
Peter slowed his movements inside of you and released your hands. "You did so good for me angel," he pushed your hair aside and kissed your neck, trying to stave off his own orgasm for a little while longer.
Aftershocks rocked your body while Peter continued sporadically moving inside of you, yet you couldn't get enough. Your body was more than ready to keep taking whatever he dished out.
Peter didn't need to read your mind to see that, but he needed to make sure. His lips kept up their onslaught on your neck as he softly spoke, "You wanna keep going?"
"Hell yes," you panted with a grin that he couldn't fully see, "You still haven't cum yet, and my bed is still fully made."
Happy with your response, Peter gave your ass a sharp smack. "That's my girl."
He pulled out of you and turned your body to face him, smiling at the sight of your fucked out face. "Three orgasms and a handful of tears later and you're still the most beautiful girl in the world," he held you by the sides of your face.
His words left you reeling, causing a slight blush to dust your cheeks and butterflies to swirl within your stomach.
Before you could form a response, Peter leaned down to kiss you. He soon hoisted up your legs around his waist, preparing to escort you to your bed as per your own demands.
As he looked around for the bed's location, you took advantage of his momentary distraction and latched your lips onto his neck, reapplying the bruises you left there that were slowly fading already.
Peter was the happiest man on earth as he walked over to your bed, his cock prodding your soaked entrance, and your lips ravaging his neck.
He carefully sat on the edge of your bed, with you now on his lap and your legs still around him. You expected him to ease his length back into you but he slowly brought your head down to meet his intense stare.
You carefully wrapped your hands around his shoulders to keep yourself up, the silence in the room growing deafening.
You could tell from his eyes that he desperately wanted to say something, and you wondered if it was the same thing you had been considering as well.
But you were both aware of what saying those words would mean for your broken relationship and simply settled for smiles instead.
Peter brought a hand up to lay your forehead against his, allowing your breathing to momentarily sync.
"You ready for me?" he questioned you with a hand at the nape of your neck to hold your head against his.
You immediately nodded in response causing his own head to shake in time with yours. A small laugh was shared between you both as your nose continued to brush his own.
"You're adorable," you said before you could stop yourself.
That stupid full-toothed grin that you hadn't seen in a while soon spread across his beautiful face at your words, gaining another laugh from you.
"Last round?” you eventually pleaded with a smile.
"Anything for you," Peter replied, meaning it in every way. Adoration littered his stare as he slowly lowered you onto his length.
A satisfied mewl slipped your lips at the familiar feel of him.
The slow drag of his cock in and out of you, while he rocked your hips back and forth to grind on him, had your bottom lip sucked between your teeth with eyes closed and head thrown back in pleasure.
But Peter wanted to see it all. He wrapped a hand around your neck and forced you to meet his dilated eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”
His soft yet stern tone caused you to swallow back a moan as you continued to move on his girth.
He then slapped your ass with his free hand, silently urging you to move faster.
You leaned down and quickly kissed his lips before happily obliging, now beginning to bounce in his lap, chasing your next climax.
“There you go angel, just like that,” Peter’s stare never wavered.
Peter furiously fucked up into you, your moans and the constant smack of skin on skin filling the apartment.
His other hand which never left your throat now squeezed it harder. “Fuck!” You were barely able to moan out as your breasts bounced with your every move.
“Shit, you’re gripping me like a vice,” Peter groaned, his crude pace never faltering though his orgasm was closer than ever.
Your bed creaked under the onslaught of your bodies, but neither of you payed it any attention only having one goal in mind.
“One more time,” Peter planted his feet on the ground to get a better angle, "Need you to cum on my cock one more time."
But from the broken pacing of his hips to the strong furrow of his brow, you could tell he was close too. “Together?” You breathlessly suggested, grasping the nape of his neck with your hands.
Peter nodded in agreement before engulfing your chest and back with his arms, pulling you closer to his body.
Your breaths mingled, eyes focused on nothing except each other as his grip on your upper body allowed him to help you ride him even faster.
"Yes, Pete, oh my God-" pleas, curses, and moans tumbled from your lips as your skin buzzed at your incoming release.
"There you go, cum for me," Peter's voice grew strangled as his hips stuttered below you.
"Fuck," you wailed, your finish hitting you like a freight train and your pussy leaking into Peter's length.
The intense clench of your walls around him was all it took for Peter to explode with a groan, his pace faltering with that final pump.
"Holy shit baby," he panted, his cum painting your walls in spurts.
His firm hold on your body brought you collapsing on your bed together, satisfied and smiling.
And, for what felt like hours, you lay there in his arms. But of course, your thoughts began to run rampant.
Peter could damn near hear your thoughts spiraling.
"I don't regret this," he suddenly broke the silence you had elapsed into, "Do you?"
"Peter I-...I don't know," you freed yourself from his hold and sat up to look at him.
His brows furrowed at your response, hurt briefly flashing across his features.
"I loved you," you spoke, "I loved you more than anything."
"I know. I loved you too," Peter nodded with a small smile.
"And I will never blame you for leaving. Ever," you slipped a hand in his own and squeezed briefly.
"But?"
Your eyes stung with tears threatening to fall. "What happened to us, it damn near destroyed me, Peter. And it took so so long to put myself back together."
Peter swallowed harshly at your words.
"And then here you come, waltzing in here, fucking my brains out and making me feel things," you lowered your head, looking away from him.
You heard Peter move closer to you before feeling him lift your chin to face him again. His expression wasn't as disappointed as you'd expected, just confused. "Spit it out. I know you're holding something back."
"Why'd you come back here and-and do all this? Reminding me of what we had when you know you're gonna be gone again in the next few weeks?" you felt your voice shrink to a broken whisper.
Peter used his thumb to wipe away a lone tear that fell from your eye, his previously puzzled look now morphing into a smirk. There was obviously something he wasn't telling you.
You sniffled and lightly hit Peter's shoulder. "Well, now it's your turn bug face, spit out whatever you're hiding!"
You received no answer other than Peter leaning forward and pressing a deep kiss against your lips. You eagerly accepted and returned the spontaneous action but were left even more confused when he pulled away.
"That wasn't an answer," you arched a brow at Peter.
"I'm not going anywhere," he smiled.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that I'm moving back to New York, or already moved, technically," he began to explain.
Your mouth opened and closed in shock as your brain fumbled for a response and came up inconclusive.
"I'm gonna finish out the school year online and stay here to take care of Aunt May. I mean it, baby, I'm not going anywhere," he grinned, watching tears of joy fall from your eyes.
"This better not be some sick fucking joke Peter, I swear to God," you pointed a finger at him accusingly.
"Can you shut up and just come here?"
You couldn't help but laugh as you obliged and grabbed Peter's neck before pulling him in for another kiss, your face still wet from tears and a smile almost permanently etched onto your face.
You pulled away but sank into his open arms. You relished how securely he held you. "I'm so happy," you said aloud, truly meaning it for the first time in a long time, though it was only meant to be an inner thought.
Peter kissed your forehead and looked down to meet your eyes, "I'll never stop making you happy, Y/N."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
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psychedelic-ink · 9 months
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hello everyone! here you'll find all the fics I've written for the haunted hoedown! like I said before I won't be doing kinktober this year so this is my mini kinktober for the year 2023 🎃 i tried to add more characters from my other fandoms but once again i ended up using mostly pedro characters lol whoops
hope y'all enjoy the hoedown and keep it spooky everyone! 🦇
find all fics on AO3
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♡ DAY ONE ➡ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆. stepbrother!frankie x santi's gf!reader
taboo au + "i'll be your dirty little secret, if that's what you're into."
♡ DAY TWO ➡ 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. dave york x f!reader
murder plot au (lets kill this person together) + "crawl to me"
♡ DAY THREE ➡ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐆𝐎 𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋. priest!ezra x f!reader
priest au + “worship me. until i tell you to stop.”
♡ DAY FOUR ➡ 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍. ai-enhanced!miguel o’hara x f!reader
artificial intelligence au + "here, you are. you tiny thing."
♡ DAY FIVE ➡ 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐓. animal shapeshifter!pero tovar x f!reader
animal shapeshifter au + "you're not actually scared are you? of me?"
♡ DAY SIX ➡ 𝐂𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘. joel miller x f!reader
slasher / summer camp au + sex in the woods or somewhere public (added bonus if it includes knife, blood, hunter x prey kink)
♡ DAY SEVEN ➡ 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒. jack daniels x f!reader
cosmic horror au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."
♡ DAY EIGHT ➡ 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒. cult leader!din djarin x f!reader
cult au + “do you like it when i bleed for you?”
♡ DAY NINE ➡ 𝐅𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖. tasm!peter parker x f!reader
zombie apocalypse au + "every moment might be our last, let's make the most of it."
♡ DAY TEN ➡ 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐓. marcus pike x f!reader
inspired by your favorite lana del rey song + “don't you know how sick with love i am for you?”
♡ DAY ELEVEN ➡ 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊. fallen angel!joel miller x f!reader
cyberpunk au + fallen angel au + “i will keep hurting. i will keep killing. anything to protect you.”
♡ DAY TWELVE ➡ 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒. oberyn martell x f!reader x max phillips
vampire court au + "forever isn't long enough for me to forgive you."
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some of the works above will contain dark themes and situations. if that is not your thing please just skip them. every fic will have additional warnings. minors please dni.
if you like what you see please reblog and comment to show support 🖤
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selfcarecap · 2 years
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Never Have I Ever [p.p]
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Pairing: Peter Parker x reader
Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.
Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol
Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)
It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚・:*:・。
It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.
The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.
The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.
His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 
Fuck.
Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.
“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 
“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 
The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 
They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 
But he has nothing.
You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”
A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.
What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 
He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 
The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.
You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 
“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.
You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.
“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.
“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 
“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.
“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”
“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.
Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 
You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 
“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 
“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”
“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 
“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”
“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.
He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”
His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.
But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”
He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 
“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 
“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”
“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”
He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.
“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”
And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.
Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 
*
The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.
It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.
He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.
He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.
He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.
But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.
Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.
There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.
While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.
His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.
Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.
“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.
He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.
“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”
Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.
And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.
Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 
He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.
He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.
“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.
You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.
He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 
But his smile fades when he hears your next words
“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 
Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 
“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.
You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 
“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”
“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”
“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.
Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.
Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?
But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 
That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.
He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.
Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.
As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.
“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.
“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”
You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”
You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.
Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 
Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 
A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 
Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.
And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.
But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.
*
You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.
But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.
Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.
“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.
“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.
“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.
“Now?”
“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.
“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).
“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”
“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.
“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 
Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.
“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.
He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.
You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.
When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.
You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.
“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.
While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.
He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.
How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.
He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.
You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.
You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.
He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.
Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.
He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚・:*:・。
It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 
Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.
You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.
“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”
Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 
You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.
“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.
“Professor Garfield.”
“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”
“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.
“Yes.”
“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”
He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.
But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.
“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.
“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”
Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.
“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.
“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 
“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 
“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”
“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.
“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 
The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.
“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”
“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.
“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.
“You’d do that?” 
“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”
You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”
“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”
“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”
Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.
“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”
Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.
Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.
“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”
Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 
Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.
A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”
“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 
You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.
“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”
Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.
Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.
You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.
Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 
He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.
It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.
He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.
Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.
He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.
On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.
“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”
“Who’s that?”
“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”
It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.
You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.
So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.
Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.
“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.
You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”
“Of course.”
Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”
After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.
“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.
“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”
When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.
You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.
“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.
“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”
Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”
“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.
He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?
Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 
“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.
“To a.. a sex shop?”
“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”
He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.
“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”
“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”
“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.
“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.
“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”
“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.
You’re good, but the other team is better. 
You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.
You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.
“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”
“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.
You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.
“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.
“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.
“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.
“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.
You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.
“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.
“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.
“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.
You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.
He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.
*
When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.
He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 
But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 
Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.
The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.
You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.
He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.
You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.
“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.
Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.
“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”
“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.
“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”
He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.
You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.
He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.
Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.
He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.
The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.
Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.
He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.
Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”
Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.
He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 
Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.
He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.
You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.
“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.
In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.
This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.
You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 
He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.
Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.
You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.
“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.
“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”
You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.
“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.
Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?
But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)
“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.
He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?
Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.
You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”
“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.
“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.
The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).
Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.
Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.
“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.
You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.
“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.
It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.
He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 
With you, Peter feels loved.
The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.
Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.
You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.
You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”
You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”
“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.
“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”
“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.
“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.
Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?
Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.
He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.
Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.
He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.
Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.
In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.
Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.
Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3
He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.
Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.
He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 
He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.
He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.
Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.
Maybe.
*
Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.
“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.
“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.
“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”
“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.
Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.
Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.
He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.
So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.
Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.
He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.
He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.
He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 
He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.
With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.
“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.
“Is what good?”
“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.
“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”
“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”
He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.
He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”
“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.
You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”
It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.
“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”
“I’d love to,” you grin.
He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.
What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?
What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?
But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?
You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?
But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.
And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.
He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.
You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 
You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).
Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.
He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.
Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.
He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 
It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.
He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 
He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.
He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.
He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.
Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.
He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.
He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚:*:・。
You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 
You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.
“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.
He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.
After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.
It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.
“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.
You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.
“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.
He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.
But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.
He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.
“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.
“Mhm?”
“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.
“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 
“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?
You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”
“What–”
You lean in and kiss Peter.
The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.
“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.
He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.
“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.
You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.
Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.
“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.
“Um, what?”
“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”
You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.
The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.
He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.
Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.
“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.
Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 
He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 
“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.
You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”
“Okay.”
“I have some tissues in my bag.”
You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.
You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.
Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.
Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.
You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.
He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.
You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”
You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”
Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.
“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”
After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.
“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.
“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.
Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 
So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.
He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”
One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.
“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”
And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.
Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.
You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.
“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.
Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”
“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”
He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”
You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.
“What?” You ask.
“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.
You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 
Shit. 
He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 
But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.
“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.
“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.
“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”
“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.
“Go on.”
“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.
“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.
“R-really? You’re not mad?”
You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.
“I do want my panties back though.”
He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.
“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”
He immediately stops the car and leans over. 
“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”
“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.
You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.
His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 
He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.
Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.
“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.
“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 
Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 
Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.
“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”
“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.
“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”
“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.
“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”
“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”
“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”
“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.
“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”
“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.
Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.
But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).
The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.
It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.
When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.
He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:
Bro, you okay?
I heard a weird noise
He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))
Brian: About time, happy for you!
Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.
He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.
“Peter?”
His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?
“Yeah?”
“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.
“It did.”
“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”
He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”
“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”
He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”
You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”
You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.
You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.
You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.
“How long have you liked me?” You ask.
Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”
You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”
You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.
“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.
“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”
“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”
“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.
“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”
“Me too.”
He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 
You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.
“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”
“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 
“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”
Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.
You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.
“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 
“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”
“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”
“I know you will.”
You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.
“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”
“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.
“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”
“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”
“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.
You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”
Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”
You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.
He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 
He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.
You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.
You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.
。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆。・:*:・゚★゚:*:・。 
It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.
He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.
“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”
Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”
“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”
Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.
He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.
You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”
“I wanna see you though.”
“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”
“Then let’s change it.”
He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 
Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”
“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”
He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.
He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.
Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”
Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 
Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.
“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.
“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”
You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.
You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.
“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”
Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”
“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.
“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.
“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.
Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.
He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”
A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.
You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.
Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.
He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.
He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.
Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.
With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.
He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.
As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.
He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.
“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.
He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 
You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.
“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.
“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 
He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.
Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.
“I’m getting cold,” you say.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.
He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.
You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.
You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.
It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.
“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.
“I love kissing you.”
“Peter?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you wanna be my boy—”
“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.
You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”
“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”
“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.
“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.
“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”
“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 
You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.
After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.
“What?” He asks.
“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 
“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”
“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”
“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”
He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”
You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”
“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.
“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.
“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”
You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.
“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”
Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.
*
“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”
You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”
You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.
While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.
“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”
“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.
“Can I use it on you?”
You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”
“I’d love to do that.”
You grin and start kissing him.
He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.
You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.
“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.
You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.
“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.
You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.
Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.
You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.
“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.
After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.
“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”
You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.
You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”
Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”
“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.
“I like having you naked in front of me too.”
“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”
“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”
“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.
After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.
When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”
“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 
You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.
He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.
“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.
“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”
You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.
“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”
“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”
You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”
“Don’t say that because I will.”
“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.
“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”
You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.
“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 
You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”
“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”
He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”
“No, no. Just give me a second.” 
You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.
He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.
“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.
You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.
Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 
You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.
He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.
He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 
You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.
He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”
He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.
Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.
Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.
“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.
You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”
“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 
“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”
“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”
“Really?”
“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”
Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.
“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.
The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.
“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.
He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.
While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.
“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.
With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 
“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.
“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.
If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.
He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”
You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”
After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.
He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.
“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.
You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.
With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.
“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.
“For what?”
“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”
“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.
“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”
“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.
“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”
“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.
“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.
“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.
It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.
“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.
You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.
  *
Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.
But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.
Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.
He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?
But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.
But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.
Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?
He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.
He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.
He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.
By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.
He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.
“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.
He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.
“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.
“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.
You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”
“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”
“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”
“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.
“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”
“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”
“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”
“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”
He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”
“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”
He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.
You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”
Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”
“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 
“Really?”
“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”
There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.
“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”
You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”
“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.
“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.
“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.
You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.
“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”
He nods.
“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”
Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”
“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”
“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.
“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”
Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”
“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”
“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 
“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.
“Y-yeah..”
“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.
“No wait–”
“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.
A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.
After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.
He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”
You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 
“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”
He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.
“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.
Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”
You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”
“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.
He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.
“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.
“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”
“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.
“What?” He sits up straighter.
“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.
“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”
You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.
You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.
Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.
You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.
“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.
He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.
You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.
But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.
“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”
“I don’t care.”
He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.
He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”
You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.
He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.
“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.
You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.
This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.
“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.
“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.
He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.
The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.
He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.
“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 
Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 
You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.
☆.。.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.。.:*☆
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mediocre-daydreams · 2 years
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peter parker x avenger!reader who can speak to flowers and plants, EXCEPT peter parker is oblivious to the way flowers just seem to grow at his feet and how daisies just lean towards him every time he smiles at r, and when r starts giving everyone in the compound flowers from their hand with a shimmering smile, peter can’t help but wonder why he hasn’t been given one yet, and why his heart seems to hurt when r spends a little bit too much time in thor’s arms.
— 🏄🏻‍♀️
ughhh this was such a cute, fluffy req and i ended up turning it into a mess of angst and insecurities and isabella madrigal but thank u 🏄🏻‍♀️ for sending this in! maybe i'll make some happier follow ups?
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𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬
peter parker x plant powered! reader
summary: you feel useless; you grow flowers while the other avengers fight battles. peter sees so much more in you, but it seems like you only have eyes for thor.
w/c: 3.0k
notes: gn! reader, angst w/ a happy ending, insecurities (feeling inadequate/reduced to looks/underestimated, etc.), jealous!peter, bestie!thor, flower symbolism that i spent a long time researching and i'm hoping it's accurate
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
being a superpowered avenger with a crush on another superpowered avenger while living in a multimillion-dollar compound that had its own walk-in ice cream fridge was pretty damn awesome. the only thing that could ruin the experience is if your aforementioned superpowers were absolutely useless and thus subject to constant (yet creative) mockery.
(hint: your aforementioned superpower was, in fact, stupid and ridiculed.)
“i feel stupid and ridiculed,” you huffed dejectedly. you and thor were sitting in front of a beautiful picnic spread complete with cucumber finger sandwiches and flasks of asgardian liquor.
“it is alright, midgardian. my brother, loki, is also stupid and ridiculed, but he is a god.” thor paused. “well, you are not a god, but you are—what is it that you little ones say these days? ah, you are W.”
you chuckled sadly, digging your toes into the soft tufts of grass that had sprouted when you’d laid down your picnic blanket. you were grateful for your gift, you really were, but compared to earth’s most powerful, dangerous, and influential people (and also aliens and gods), you were more like a glorified family pet.
“you contribute greatly to the avenging family,” thor reassured, placing one large hand on your shoulder with unintentionally strong force. you felt your body tilt under his strength. you sighed; you must’ve voiced your thoughts out loud.
“if by contribute, you mean reviving sam’s succulents every two months and supplying tony with emergency flower bouquets when he’s upset pepper, then yeah, i guess.”
“do not distress! you are also capable of growing poisonous mushrooms! my brother, loki, enjoys them. they are cute but deadly, like him. and you are sometimes an exterminator! the venus flytrap you gifted me remains in my asgardian throne room. it is very effective. i have not seen a single fly since.”
“that’s because there are no flies in asgard, thor.”
thor patted you on the back twice, forcing you to bend forward with each heavy-handed tap. you looked up at him, watching the man with long, golden hair and piercing eyes look down on you sympathetically. despite him being literally all-powerful and worthy of wielding a crazy magical thunder hammer, you had formed an unexpected bond with thor.
“you know, there was a time in my life when i was unsure of if i was worthy of mjolnir. i only played video games and drank asgardian hard lemonade. however, just because you may not see your worth at the moment does not mean it is not there. i was still as worthy and devilishly handsome. i just needed to shower.” thor looked up at the sky wistfully.
you smiled fondly, recalling the old pictures of thor with a beer belly and untamed beard. even when the team had poked fun at his ragged appearance, thor knew it was superficial and not a determinant of his character. the jokes were not a determinant of your worth or importance.
“thank you, thor.” your eyes crinkled and you blinked back your emotions, never having felt so understood. you looked shyly at your toes, admiring how the grass swayed and danced to the beat of your heart. “i never expected to relate to you so much.”
thor laughed heartily, slinging an arm around your shoulder and for the third time, crushing you with his inhuman strength. he pulled you close to his side, and for a moment, you let yourself enjoy the comforting pressure that grounded you.
unbeknownst to the two of you, a sneaky and jealous spider had come searching for you with a certain question in mind. peter knew how much you enjoyed spending days rooted in nature and connecting with your element, so after searching the compound, he figured you’d be in your favorite spot.
but when he reached the rolling bluff at the edge of the compound property, his heart sank at the sight of you and thor cuddled up on a romantic outdoor lunch. and when you pointed to something and giggled, followed by thor pressing a sweet kiss to your head, peter’s heart fully shattered. he left wordlessly, dropping the stop ‘n shop bouquet. it was pointless; you could grow your own flowers anyway.
“orange chrysanthemums,” you nodded towards the small patch you’d summoned, “for you. they symbolize friendship and clarity of mind. thank you, thor, for being here for me and allowing me to see my worth.”
thor gasped with childish delight. “the young spiderling bestowed upon me incredible knowledge the other day!” with deft fingers, thor plucked the flowers by their stems and wove them into a haphazard flower crown. “the five-minute crafts ‘tube film is truly revolutionary.”
“you’re a genius!” you squealed, jumping to your feet and giving thor a hug which ended up being you squishing his head into your torso. “how come i’ve never thought to make flower crowns before?”
the rest of the day was spent closer to the main compound grounds, lounging in the sun with thor as you flipped through a farmer’s almanac for flower meanings and growing them. thor proved to be a talented flower crown crafter, weaving intricate patterns and structures with flower steams and leafy vines. a couple of your teammates stopped to say hello, but nobody was particularly interested in your mindless, trivial afternoon activity. they had more pressing meetings and missions, after all.
“so,” tony said, walking around the counter to set down a luscious chocolate cake that he’d custom ordered on the dining table. “i know we just got back from a mission and two of our agents are in like, critical condition, but that’s booooring. let’s think halloween costumes,” tony announced, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “i was thinking the madrigal family; like, i’m obviously the house, since you’re all living on my compound and in my tower, etcetera… pepper can be pepa—duh—also because she’s always stressed… ooo, we could loop strange in and have him be bruno; plus, nobody likes him anyway so it fits…”
you and thor entered the dining room giggling maniacally, holding your completed flower crowns behind your back. thor was on his tippy toes, pretending to sneak around silently, as you tried (and failed) to stifle your chortles. when you came into view of the entire team sitting around the table with tony rambling about animated movies, the two of you silenced.
tony pointed at you excitedly. “perfect timing! you can be isabella, the one that’s really boring and makes all the eldest daughters cry because they relate to trying too hard but never being enough.” tony grinned proudly. “oh, and you both do the whole flowers thing, so that works.”
the air froze momentarily as you furrowed your brows, laughing breathily in disbelief. the table of avengers—tony, bruce, wanda, natasha, and steve—didn’t even notice. peter, lounging nearby, was the only one who seemed to have noticed your reaction.
“but has anyone watched she-ra?” wanda interjected. “i could totally see perfuma. she’s like this princess that… talks to plants or something.”
bruce raised a finger as if he’d just had a eureka moment. “snow white! doesn’t she grow flowers?”
natasha slapped her forehead. “she picks flowers to distract her from the executioner sent by the evil queen, duh.”
as natasha and bruce bickered about the magical limits of the snow white universe and wanda and steve argued over the coolest character in she-ra, peter just sat there, disengaged in conversation, watching as thor bent down to whisper something in your ear. you nodded, moving away from him, and peter jumped from his seat at the opportunity to catch you alone.
you caught peter’s eye and he smiled nervously at you, wondering if you intended to approach him first. instead, you ungracefully scrubbed at your eyes with your arm, presumably to wipe away tears, and then ran off, the sound of your footsteps bouncing off the empty hallway.
peter shuffled uncomfortably. the person he liked took one look at him, started crying, and then literally ran away from him. way to go, romeo.
“what happened to flower power?” tony stopped his brainstorming at the sound of a sob followed by the meek closing of a door. “are they like, okay?”
“they didn’t even stay for cake,” steve worried. “and it’s chocolate.”
peter cracked his knuckles, a habit he’d picked up whenever he was anxious. he opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by another barrage of theories.
“maybe they were weeding the lawn and got tired?”
“nah, we have a robotic gardner for that-”
“did sam land in one of the flowerbeds again?”
“sam’s not even here right now-”
“stung by a bee?”
“foot run over by a tractor?”
“found a corpse in the fertilizer-”
“ENOUGH!” thor boomed, his usual joviality turned into fuming eyes and deep, angry breaths. “you midgardians are pathetically shallow-minded and incompetent. was it not evident that your hapless conversation was—how do you midgardians say it—creating uncomfortable energy in the studio?”
the table of avengers looked at thor, confused.
thor moved his hands from behind his back and displayed them. on his arms hung the flower crowns you and thor had spent all afternoon creating. thor carefully laid them on the table, smoothing out any wrinkles in the petals and fluffing the leaves.
“in asgard, we revere nature and its gifts. flowers, plants, trees: they are sacred. we could not breathe, nor eat, nor survive or exist without greenery—without powers like theirs. you foolish midgardians… have you not considered the unlimited power that your superfriend wields? the power of life, creation, and growth. to manipulate the natural land, which is what holds up this very building and the entirety of human creation.” thor sighed, shaking his head like he was scolding a classroom of silly kindergarteners.
thor pointed to the flower crowns, distributing them to the person they were meant for.
“for tony: dark, blood orange tiger lilies and golden yellow jasmines to represent wealth, pride, and elegance”
“for bruce: a circlet of green to celebrate the part of him that he tries to hide. green hellebore and envy zinnia, symbolizing peace, serenity, and endurance.
“for wanda: a crown of purple, made of verbena, crocus, and clematis. to attract butterflies and honor her youthfulness, creativity, and limitless capability.
“for natasha: white and yellow, because she deserves softness; chamomile for her patience in adversity, black-eyed susans for her sense of justice, and edelweiss, for her courage and devotion.”
there was only one more crown on the table, but two avengers left. red, white, and blue flowers—it was clearly meant for steve.
“they put their heart into these, and for steve especially. bluebell, for his humility. white gladiolus, for his integrity and strength. finally, red nasturtium, which they spent hours searching for, to represent his victory and patriotism.”
thor watched as each avenger admired their respective crown before noticing peter, hands empty, standing in the corner looking despondent. thor bit back a knowing smile, approached the frowning boy, and beckoned him closer. peter grimaced as he caught sight of thor’s subtle amusement, scoffing bitterly. was the god here to rub it in further; that he’d won over the object of peter’s affection who he’d been pining over for months?
“they are in their room,” thor whispered loudly. “they will probably want to see you, small and short arachnid child.”
peter elected not to ignore thor’s passive-aggressive insults and nodded determinedly, making his way to your door with his mind racing. thor had said you’d wanted to see him, yet you’d barely acknowledged him and hadn’t bothered making him a crown. he’d be fine with sticks hot glued together, if it meant you’d thought of him. which, he supposed, you hadn’t.
he didn’t get the chance to knock before your door swung open and you waved him inside. “sorry i got all dramatic back there,” you sniffed. “i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.”
“what? you didn’t- no, what everyone was saying was just… wrong. cruel. you’re- well, you’re incredible.” peter cracked his knuckles, the bones popping loudly and drawing your attention. he shook his hands out and looked at you bashfully. “sorry. nervous habit.”
“don’t be nervous,” you smiled sadly. “i’m harmless. literally.”
“y’know, thor showed us those crowns you made. i thought they were really cool, really beautiful.” peter hesitated. “beautiful like you. a-and i don’t want to push anything, ‘cause i know you’re upset and stuff, but i just… thought you should know.”
you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth and let out a dark chuckle. “yeah, they are quite pretty. thanks for saying that. i get it a lot, but it’s nice to hear it from- from you.”
“i hope you know that beauty isn’t all there is to you. you’re thoughtful—thor explained all the meanings behind the flowers and you even matched the colors up for everyone… you’re crazy smart—you read a farmer’s almanac and i don’t know anyone as good as biology as you; i suck at bio. and you’re really, really strong.”
you looked up at peter, bewildered.
peter’s face fell when he saw your expression of confusion. how could you not see your own power and endurance? timidly, he stepped forward until his chest was a foot from yours and brought his hand up to straighten your tightened eyebrows. 
“don’t look at me like that. don’t look at me like you can’t comprehend your own capability.” peter’s thumb traced down your face—starting at your eyebrows, down to your eyes, where he wiped the remnants of your tears, gently circling over the curves of your cheeks, down to your jawline and trailing to your chin, where he took it between two fingers and tilted your face upwards so he could admire you properly.
“the rest of the team might make jokes, but they’re being close-minded. they talked about isabella, right? well, she grew these stems that encircled the entire house; so strong that they could carry both her and mirabel and it was like they were flying, y’know? a-and perfuma was like, a warrior princess that could choke people out with her vines and whipped them unconscious and could stab people with thorns—i’m kidding, it’s a kid’s animated series. but you get the point. there are possibilities, and just because you can create beautiful, delicate masterpieces doesn’t mean you’re shallow and fragile.”
as peter rambled, you had to bite your lip to stop the beam that was fighting to escape. you wanted him to talk forever, and you were scared that if you looked like you felt better, he’d stop with his words. admittedly, you loved the praise. but you loved the sound of peter’s voice and his loving caress and the way he seemed to believe in you—maybe even more so than yourself. 
“peter,” you whispered hoarsely, letting yourself smile. “thank you, peter.”
peter swallowed thickly, having not thought ahead to what would happen after he spilled his guts out about his admiration of you. “uh, you’re welcome?” his voice cracked embarrassingly.
you gave no reaction. instead, your eyes seemed to soften. “i’m sorry i didn’t make a crown for you. i didn’t mean for it to seem like- like i didn’t care.”
peter’s eyes flickered across your face, looking for any sign of a lie. he didn’t want you to reassure you out of pity or because you felt obligated to after he’d complimented you. he cracked his knuckles, feeling the confidence he’d exuded a minute ago begin to die.
you grabbed his hands and forced his fingers to unclench from his palms, your own fingers running over his skin. your fingers were calloused from the time you spent outdoors, tending to your variety of plants, and it only heightened his belief that you were more than just pretty, that you were just as durable and strong.
“i didn’t know what flowers to use,” you said lowly, unable to meet his eye. “‘cause red roses are cliché; well, roses in general, and tulips and lilies have been overused, and baby’s breath seemed kind of bridesmaid-y, and- and carnations remind me of mother’s day, and you’re not my mother, so i just-”
“hey, it’s okay,” peter reassured. “i won’t lie, i was worried at first. i thought you just completely forgot about me, which is ouch. but it means a lot that you cared… so much.”
you squeezed his hands tighter. peter felt something tickle the fleshy inside of his palms and looked down curiously. slowly, your hands moved away from his and he watched in amazement as little buds began sprouting from your hands and falling as they made their way into full bloom.
daisies and their stray petals littered the floor beneath him, and peter tried his best not to move in fear of crushing one of the flowers. you looked equally surprised, but quickly caught your bearings, and when peter looked back up at you, you were holding a little bouquet of misshapen, droopy daises with a shy smile. 
“so you don’t crack your knuckles,” you explained. “and because they represent new beginnings and, um, true love.”
peter’s face contorted as he took the flowers from you, fingers brushing over yours. you examined peter’s expression intensely, heartbeat skipping as you followed the way his face seemed to twist and morph into something similar to disgust.
but when peter held the daisies up to his nose and made a big show of smelling them, bringing them down from his face to reveal a huge, bright grin, you allowed yourself to indulge in one of your own.
“i take it you like it?” you muttered, shuffling closer as petals shifted beneath your shoes.
peter nodded, wrapping the arm that held his flowers around your back to pull you even closer. it was like you could feel the warmth emanating off him. he was like sun.
“i like it a lot. not as much as i like you, though.”
“i gave you a gift, didn’t i?” you breathed, eyes bright with anticipation. “do i get anything in return?”
peter hummed. “well, what would you like?”
you rolled your eyes at his game. “surprise me.”
neither of you was surprised when your lips met, initially brushing against each other like hesitant spring sprouts, before exploding into colorful, passionate blooms.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
peter parker masterlist | main masterlist
taglist:
@bambamwolf87 @yourallihave @im-a-slut-for-fluff @cowboibeepbeep
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scoonsalicious · 2 months
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Unwanted: Chapter 4, Unwelcome - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of sex, hints of jealousy, some slight self-deprecation.
Word Count: 1.7k
Previously On...: Now that you and Bucky are officially FWB, you couldn't keep your hands off one another, which obviously meant having fantastic sex in your office.
A/N: And it's time to finally introduce our antagonist! Sort of! Although, I guess you could say the real antagonism is the angst and anxiety we meet along the way. Chapter 11 is coming along very nicely, hence a posting today. I hope you enjoy!
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917
Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @blackhawkfanatic @les-sel @marcswife21 @buckybarnessimpp @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @erelierraceala
"You're both so codependent," Nat said to the two of you one evening a few months later as you all sat gathered around in the common room after dinner. It was a rare occurrence where no one was away on a mission and everyone was Earth-side. The space was crowded, so naturally Bucky had offered you his lap, theoretically in order to open up some seating for everyone else. Aside from the two of you and Nat, there was Wanda and Vision, Steve and Sam, Clint, Thor, Tony and Pepper, Bruce, and Rhodey. Your perfectly imperfect found family. The only one who was missing was young Peter Parker, but it was a school night and Tony tried to make sure the kid had his priorities in order.
"No we're not," you and Bucky said in unison, which made everyone else either laugh or groan. You glanced up at him with a smile and then back to the others. "What can we say? We just really enjoy the benefits of our friendship."
Bucky let out a cough into his hand that sounded a lot like "Be cool, damn."
"How come you never volunteer to sit in my lap?" Steve asked with an exaggerated pout.
"Do you want me to get up, Star-Spangled Man?" you ribbed as you feigned moving out of Bucky's lap. "You can have him all to yourself." Bucky squeezed your waist in warning, holding you down against him. You knew that if you got up now, you'd be exposing everyone to the erection that had been rubbing against your backside all evening. Fortunately, Steve wasn't one to take such a joke very far.
"No, it's fine. I can tell when I've been replaced," he teased, though his smile didn't necessarily reach his eyes. You and Bucky weren't necessarily hiding the fact that you'd started having sex from everyone, but you sure as shit weren't shouting it from the rooftops. There would be far too many 'I told you so's or 'about damn time's for your liking, not to mention everyone asking 'what's the next step?,' so it was something you kept to yourselves. Besides, you both decided that the secret aspect of sneaking around made it so much fucking hotter.
"Good, you're all here," said Tony, breaking through the levity with a serious tone, "since we're all together for once, there's something we need to discuss."
All eyes turned to him. Usually, a serious Tony meant a global-threatening event, but things on the world-saving front had been fairly quiet recently, so you were all curious to see what he had to say.
"As you're no doubt well aware, because most of you aren't complete morons, there are more and more enhanced individuals coming out of the woodwork, and not all of them are identifying as friendlies. I know we've already got a great team here, but Fury thinks we could be better."
"Pretty strong opinion for a man who just sits around watching and talking," Clint offered from his position on the couch next to Nat where he was re-stringing one of his bows.
"Don't disagree, Barton," Tony continued, "but Fury's good graces and government approval are the reason we keep getting to do what we do. He wants us to expand."
"What, open up a West Coast Avengers second location?" Bruce asked with a laugh.
"He wants us to consider taking on some more members," Tony said. "Expand our capabilities. I was able to negotiate it down to one."
"Do we have a say in the matter, or has he already made the choice for us?" Natasha asked warily. Like you, the Avengers were the only real family she'd ever known, and like you, she was highly uncomfortable with the idea of allowing just anyone to join it.
"He's made some... suggestions," Tony said, holding up a stack of thick folders, "but the final decision is ours to make."
"Well, I say we stick with known quantities," Sam offered. "Like Tic-Tac. He proved himself in Berlin."
"Nah, Scott Lang's not a viable option," you interjected thoughtfully. "Maybe as a reserve or something, but not a full-blown member." At Sam's questioning look, you elaborated. "His daughter's young, and he doesn't have custody. He's not going to move across the country and leave her in San Francisco. Not for us, especially after being apart from her while he was in prison."
"Same's going to go for T'Challa," Nat agreed. "His priority is always going to be Wakanda, he won't give that up, nor should we expect him to."
"We could always invite my brother Loki to join us," said Thor with a grin. "He's quite skilled," he paused for a moment to think his statement through. "Though he is completely untrustworthy and could very well try to murder us all, so perhaps not. But what a humorous situation that would have made!" The eye rolls from around the room proved that, no, it would not have made a humorous situation at all.
"I wish Pietro were still here; he would be magnificent. A perfect addition," Wanda said wistfully, and you reached over to squeeze her hand. She'd done so much healing since her brother had died in the crossfire of the battle with Ultron, but you couldn't imagine the lingering pain losing a twin must keep her in. She gave you a grateful look as she returned your squeeze.
"Well, who else do we know that we'd actually trust enough to ask?" Rhodey posited. The ensuing silence spoke volumes.
"Natty, what about your sister?" you suggested. "You think Yelena would be interested? It wouldn't suck to have another trained Widow on the team. Plus, she makes me laugh, which, you know, absolutely crucial Avenger requirement."
Nat looked thoughtful. "I don't know if it would be her thing, but I could reach out; wouldn't hurt to ask. But I wouldn't get our hopes up; she's pretty dedicated to helping all the former Widows right now."
"Swell," said Tony with an eye roll, making a note on a piece of paper inside his folder. "That's one, maybe. But probably not."
"Well, what options did Fury send over?" Rhodey asked him.
Tony began handing out folders to everyone. Each page contained a brief bio of an enhanced individual Fury had vetted and thought might make a good addition to the team. He handed you a folder, then made to hand another to Bucky.
"I'll share with Pocket," he said.
"Of course you will," Tony said with a shake of his head. "You sharing your balls with her, too, Barnes?" You stuck your tongue out at him. "Nice, Pocket. The pinnacle of maturity," Tony muttered as he moved on toward Bruce.
"Not just your balls," you whispered into Bucky's ear, giving his cock a discreet squeeze. He did his best not to moan out loud at your touch.
"You are going to pay for that," he whispered, causing you to laugh.
"Why don't we take a look at these profiles?" Steve interjected with a cough, waving a folder in the air. Everyone began leafing through their packets. The room was silent, save for the shuffling of paper.
"Wait, here's someone we should definitely consider," Bucky said after a long moment, freezing everyone's attention. He held up a sheet of paper with a picture stapled to it.
You leaned over to get a better look and immediately felt an odd sensation deep inside as your eyes focused on the woman in question: Jade Carthage, code-named 'Vixen'. She had long black hair cascading down her back and vibrant emerald green eyes that, in your opinion, looked cold and calculating. She was absolutely stunning.
"Let's see..." you began reading out loud, "she's the only survivor of a secret Hydra super soldier facility. Looks like they gave her a relatively successful version of the serum, but she single-handedly destroyed their base before it could be replicated and defected to S.H.I.E.L.D. Damn; that's really impressive. Enhanced strength, regenerative capabilities, trained in various forms of martial arts..." While reading about her powers and skills, you couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy over your own lack of superhero abilities. It was a gentle though bitter reminder that, though you may be able to play in the Avengers' world, you'd never really be one of them. 
"She seems..." Bucky said, almost reverently, letting the rest of his thought hang in the air. "We should definitely meet her." You weren't sure why, but the tone of his voice left your stomach feeling sour.
"Well, she certainly seems interesting," Tony said, perusing the profile, "but I'm not sure she'd be a good fit for the team; I'm not seeing anything unique she can bring us that we don't already have on tap, and I'd want to know why she was the base's sole survivor. What happened to the rest of the subjects? We'll have to look into her more closely before we consider inviting her."
"I think it would be a mistake not to at least meet her," Bucky said, his gaze still locked on Jade's picture. "You can't just walk out of a Hydra base, especially when they value you as an asset. She's got to be good at what she does."
The others seemed to agree with Bucky's assessment after reviewing Jade's sheet. The general consensus seemed to be in favor of inviting Jade in for a more in-depth interview and meet and greet before making further decisions. You weren't sure how you felt about it, but you kept your discomfort to yourself. After all, she could definitely be an asset to the team if they chose to make her an offer, and if she chose to accept, of course. Those were two big ifs that might amount to nothing.And really, when it came down to it, your opinion didn't matter. You weren't actually an Avenger. You were just... Avenger-adjacent. Shaking your head, you attempted to disperse the negative thought. It was a term you'd used to refer to yourself when you were feeling less than your friends, when you were being hard on yourself. You hadn't used it in a while, and you weren't about to let yourself spiral down the familiar path of self-loathing... at least, not just yet.
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alloftheimaginesblog · 10 months
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feelings {peter parker tasm}
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plot: you and peter have been friends since you were both knee height, now that you're both mid twenties you're busy navigating life and also the fact that you're both hopelessly in love with the other.
character: peter parker (tasm) x reader
requested by anon
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Aunt May had always had her hopes for the two of you. She could see it coming from a mile away, honestly. She had raised Peter and had practically helped to raise you too since you were always over at the Parkers' house from when you could talk. She watched as you and Peter's friendship blossomed, watched as you helped each other through school, dealing with bullies and crushes and exams. She watched as Peter got and lost his first girlfriend and watched as you supported him through the loss of Gwen. He was there after your first relationship ended in turmoil and tears. She watched as you both got jobs and got places in college, both busy and yet both still making the effort to see each other. She watched as neither of you realised but you both started to fall in love. She had always known that there was something there.
She had tried to tell Peter just to help guide him to you when he was seventeen but Uncle Ben had told her to stop meddling in their nephew's life. "He'll figure it out in his own time, May. They'll realise soon enough." So Aunt May dropped it and continued to watch from the side-lines with a secret smile every time she saw the two of you.
Peter's leg was tapping away as he worked, he could never sit still, "You good, Parker?" You asked him. You were both busy with essays for your separate college courses but you always liked to work together. Ever since you were little you liked doing homework and the likes together. There was something about his presence, it calmed you and helped you focus.
Peter rubbed at his eyes tiredly, the stubble from neglecting to shave for the last few days was a feature you quite liked about him. Hope he keeps that beard, grows it out a bit more maybe. You frowned when you caught yourself thinking it, okay weird. He was your friend - your best friend - nothing more, nothing less. "I'm fine," Peter sighed, breaking you out of your thoughts, "hungry though... Wanna go for lunch?"
You laughed, "Think you mean dinner?" You teased, showing him the time on your phone, "We've been at this for hours."
"Shit, really? Wow... I better give Aunt May a call, let her know I'm okay. You know how she worries."
"Can you ask if I can come for dinner-"
"You're coming." Peter said, deadpan, as he called her, "Hey Aunt May, it's me. Me and (y/n) have been studying and doing essays since 11am and now it's nearly 5pm!" Peter's face scrunched, "What? No. We were writing essays - just writing essays."
You packed your bag as he finished his conversation, "She must've had a drink of something strong," Peter said as he hung up the phone, "She was convinced that we weren't studying. She kept hinting that we were doing something else like making out or something like that! Insane, right?!" Peter's laughter was loud and you didn't know why that hurt so much. Is it so awful to even think? Am I that unappealing to you? You forced a laugh as these thoughts spun through your head, "I mean, that's insane, right?"
"Absolutely." You nodded, smile falling as you grabbed your bags. Why did you care so much? You had no idea. You didn't know why you were so hurt by his comments. Peter was your friend, that was all... right? Surely there wasn't anything else there, right? Right? You cleared your throat, "Uh, you know, I actually forgot I have plans to get dinner with my family today, Pete." It was a lie and Peter could tell. He always could tell, he didn't need enhanced senses to know when you were lying.
"Oh," he frowned, "Are you okay?"
You nodded quickly, "Fine, yeah. I gotta go though, I'll see you later. Give May a hug from me." Quickly you darted out of the library before he could ask you anything else. Peter watched you go, confused and a little hurt. You had lied to him and that upset him more than anything. Why were you lying to him? Had he hurt your feelings? Peter didn't know but he was going to figure it out.
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You had been avoiding Peter a little bit for the rest of the day. You were just trying to clear your head. You'd come to the realisation that you liked him... a lot. You didn't know when the feelings started or why today you were realising it but you realised as you couldn't stop thinking about him. You couldn't get Peter and his dumb laugh and stupid haircut out of your head.
Peter had been calling and texting you for the last few hours and was barely getting a response so he knew where you'd be. He knew that when you got upset and things got overwhelming, you'd be on your apartment buildings roof watching as the sun set. You knew that he'd find you, you didn't mind, you knew that sooner or later this conversation would have to happen.
He found you in your usual spot, sitting with a blanket and some coffee, "Hey," he said quietly, offering you a smile and extending his hand to show you his peace offering, "god you a donut from Sal's that you love..."
With a smile and a 'thanks', you took the donut from him and began to eat it. He sat beside you, stretching his legs out and dropping his bag to the side, "I think we need to talk," he said after a few moments.
You nodded as you finished your donut, "Yeah," you said, clearing your throat, "yeah we do."
"Look, I don't know what I did earlier but I'm sorry-"
You didn't know where the sudden burst of anger came from but the words were being yelled from your mouth before you could even realise, "Is the thought of being with me so repulsive?!"
Peter jumped back, taken aback, "Wh- What?!"
"Earlier!" You snapped, jumping up making him stand up too, "You thought it was hilarious and insane when May suggested we be together! Here I am realising that I care about you and you say shit like that- Shit." You slammed your hand over your mouth, whirling away from him as your heart hammered hard in your chest. You hadn't mean to explode like this but he'd really upset you earlier and you just couldn't keep it in.
"Are you saying that you've got feelings for me?" Peter asked, voice soft and gentle; calm despite his racing heart and despite your previous tone, "(y/n), speak to me."
"I-I-I don't know!" You wailed, head in your hands, "I don't know! I- I think so? I mean, I've just been feeling stuff that I never normally feel and I look at you and I get literal butterflies. I thought that shit was made up in Disney movies but I find myself smiling when you say my name, I feel excited when you smile at me... Yeah," you laughed incredulously, "I'm saying I've got feelings for you."
Peter was silent for a few seconds as he took in all of what you just said and then he said the most heart-breaking thing he could've said, "Oh."
And there it was. Peter's reaction. Oh. Your heart sank. Of course he didn't feel the same, of course he didn't. Why would he? The two of you were best friends so of course he didn't see you like that and now it was all fucked. You had just ruined your two decades long friendship over developing feelings for him. If you hadn't told him, if you'd have just shut up and kept quiet then you wouldn't have fucked everything up; things would be normal and you'd both be happy.
You pulled back immediately, putting your walls back up to save yourself any further embarrassment or upset, "I'm sorry, uh, never mind! Ignore everything I just said, it was a joke! Ha! Got you..." You gave a pathetic attempt laugh as tears burned at your eyes, "It was all just a joke!" Peter seemed to come back to reality as he saw you were getting upset. He said your name but you were shaking your head telling him to forget it, it was all a big joke, a laugh, it was fine. Peter knew that it wasn't a joke, he knew that what you'd said was real and he felt awful about upsetting you.
"(y/n), stop," he said loudly, cutting you off of your 'it was just a joke' ramblings, "I'm sorry for saying 'oh' I was surprised that's all! It wasn't a negative reaction or me rejecting you."
You looked at him, cheeks burning and tears slowly making their way down your cheeks, "Then what does it mean?"
"It means... holy shit, I can't believe you have feelings for me. I never thought you'd see me like that!" He grinned widely, "I've had a massive crush on you for forever."
Your jaw dropped. He had a crush on you? "Then why'd you say oh you stupid oaf!" You hissed but the corners of your lips twitched upwards.
"I-I was surprised! I never thought you'd ever like me back!"
"Of course I do," you said, "Pete, you've always been there for me. Always been so kind and you're so funny and... I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."
He smiled at you, "I didn't think you'd ever feel the same... You're way outta my league, you always have been." He sat on the stone wall, patting it so you'd sit next to him, "We've been through a lot together, haven't we?"
You laughed, "You could say that again."
Silence fell and all of a sudden you were fifteen again crying into Peter's arms after your first boyfriend broke up with you for someone else. Then you were six and fake marrying Peter whilst Aunt May shook her head laughing. Then you were twenty getting into college and celebrating, ending up hungover and crashing at Peter's apartment for a night. Then you were eighteen finding out that he was Spider-Man and fainting from the shock of it.
He nudged you, breaking you out of your thoughts, "So what do we do now?" He asked quietly.
You shrugged, "I guess you take me out on a date," you suggested with a smile, "that little Italian place downtown. The one with the garlic twists."
"A date?" Peter smiled, "I can do that."
You looked at him, turning your body to face him, as his brown eyes caught the sun. You'd always known that he was handsome but my god, it was like you were seeing him in such a different light. The way his eyes looked like dark honey in the sunlight, the way his lips quirked upwards, the way the wind tousled his hair to perfection.
Peter couldn't take his eyes from your face. "God, you're so beautiful," he murmured quietly, eyes going between your eyes and your lips, "Can I-"
You cut him off by pulling him to meet your lips. It didn't feel weird. It didn't feel unnatural or anything like that... It felt... normal; right. It felt good. It was a simple kiss, only lasting a few seconds, but it was the best kiss you'd ever had. It was so full of emotion, so gentle and sweet and soft and you just melted into his embrace.
When you pulled away, neither of you could keep the stupid lovesick grins from your faces, "Aunt May is going to have a field day with this one," Peter laughed softly, "she's been trying to get us together for years."
385 notes · View notes
skyfallslayer · 2 years
Text
Cherry || Chapter 2: A Red Awakening
Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Series
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Series Masterlist
Ao3 link
Character Cards: 001 002 003 004 005 006
🍒Series Summary: As a superhero, you always believe in the good that comes with it, and the feeling of bringing hope to people's eyes makes your heart flutter. That is… Until you witness your teammates murdering your husband. Now your world is upside down, and the people you once deemed your enemies are offering you some help. Will you take the bait? Or bury your head in the sand?
🍒Chapter Summary:  You’re “kidnapped” by a group of people claiming to be on your side; But you're having doubts about what’s even real or what’s even fake.
🍒Date: 9/4
🍒Rating: Explicit
🍒Word Count: 4415
🍒Warning: Talks of blood; Talks of Vomit; Scenes of Delusions/Denial; Talks about Death/Murder; Possible OOC(?). READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Let me know If I missed anything.
🍒A/N: So sorry this took so long! That was never my idea, I just had a crazy writers block after writing half of this chapter. Hopefully I don't go so long again. Anyway, Enjoy!
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Whoever had their hand over your mouth was strong enough to muffle your screams. Your fight or flight senses kicked in heavily as you were pulled quickly through one of the rooms in the warehouse. You felt your powers starting to surge, the balls of your feet desperately digging into the concrete, your hands trying to claw this person off of you. You managed to finally get an elbow or two in your capturer’s ribcage, and heard them hold back a hiss of pain, but their grip never loosened to your dismay. Your eyes widened in fear again.
I’m fucked. You thought, your mind racing a mile a minute again.
I’m fucked. I’m dead. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going to die. I’m going—
“Stop struggling. I’m on your side.” A husky voice whispered into your ear, sending visible shivers down your spine.
Shivers.
Oh, Jesus… you were really off your game now. But can you blame yourself though?
You felt the person’s lips against your ear again, pulling you closer.
“Now, I’m going to let go, but you can’t scream because if you do then we're both done for.” They continue, sternly and… gently? That’s odd. “Nod if you understand, okay?”
Strangely you find yourself actually doing it, and soon the hand slips off slowly, and so does the grip around your waist. You felt the person take a very small step back, which you used as an opportunity to turn around, face this odd person of a threat.
You were met with a tall man, taller than your… well… 
You choked down the nonexistent bile.
Your… your husband. Yeah. He was taller than your husband, and even in the poor moonlight, you could see this man had the deepest, yet brightest blue eyes you have ever seen. Richer than your friend John. He had chestnut hair pulled in a half bun; Stubbles too on his face. A very… manly-man so to speak. Intimating looking, scary even, but the eyes can always hold your true emotion; And his were just as soft as ever. 
You tried to speak, to mutter something before he made a motion for you to stay quiet. He soon mouthed the words, ‘Follow me’, and usher you to come. For some, maybe dumb, reason you did. You followed him through the shadows of the warehouse and back out into the open, where you were suddenly met with a suspicious looking van.
Your breath caught in your throat as you froze on the spot. 
Oh no fucking way. I really am going to die today–
“Hey.” He says, stepping into your view. “I know it doesn’t look promising, but it is. So, ma’am, I need you to trust me and get in the van. We need to leave before they find us. Please. Trust me.”
Your heart flutters shockingly. Your chest felt warm for a millisecond; And once again, stupidly you nodded and followed. What you weren’t expecting was him to open the back door so quickly and shove you inside. He climbed in right behind you afterwards, slamming the door.
“We gotta go, Sam, it’s fucking bad.” He says, making your head snap up and off the ground.
You realized you two weren’t alone. You watched as the driver flicked his attention back at the two of you for a split second before slamming on the accelerator. You fell flat on the ground again, but not long after you felt his hands on your biceps, helping you to sit up. 
You nearly jerked away when you saw someone sitting right across from you, which so happens to be a young looking boy; A teenager to be exact, one who was typing away on his laptop. Your (Y/E/C) eyes meet his soft brown ones for a split second, and he gives you a quick reassuring smile before resuming his work.
You surely felt yourself blinking a few times.
Why was there a child here? 
“Peter, status?” The man who saved you asked.
“We’ve got 60 seconds until the camera loop ends, just enough time to grab her bike.” The teenager, Peter, replies.
That got you out of your trance a little. “M-My bike?”
“Yeah, we’re gonna grab your bike, clear up the evidence that you were there.” The man answers. 
“B-But… what about the crowd? There were tons of people standing around when I got there.”
“They’ll be distracted by the ‘heroes’ cars. It’ll be fine.” He reassures, venom in his words as his hand rests on the back door. “Steve, help me out.”
This guy, Steve obviously, arose from the passenger seat and passed by you, apologizing quietly before reaching for the door as well.
“Might want to sit back some more.” Peter says to you before facing his boss. “30 seconds, open the door.”
Your body jerked against the wall as the brakes were applied, the back door springing open. You briefly watch as the man and Steve pull your motorcycle in as quickly as they could before slamming the door shut. 
“Sam, go!”
Another step on the gas, and you impact the wall with your body. Then…
You were off into the unknown.
•°•°•°•°•°
If you were being honest, you zoned out for most of the ride. It was pretty fucking stupid of you to do so, but I guess you can call your current mental state the “processing” stage with all the shit that’s just happened. You had stayed quiet as the four of them were muttering something a mile a minute, something you couldn’t quite understand or hear (Or maybe you chose not to).
Eventually the van came to a complete stop. Where exactly? You were unsure. And there was a part of you that started to become fearful again because maybe these people weren’t exactly your saviors like they promised. You watched as they all started scrambling out of the vehicle, Peter tucking his laptop under his arm and holding his free hand out towards you. You could see the genuine care in his young features, making your heart flutter as you did take it without hesitation.
As he helps you out of the van, you take this opportunity to take in the surroundings. If this was their hideout/lair/headquarters (Whatever you want to call it), it desperately needed some kind of update. From the looks of it, this place could be anywhere from a warehouse to a giant garage of some sort, seeing that the structure was made out of nothing but concrete. No windows as you can see, but there was a metal staircase leading up to a man-made loft (Was that even safe?). And when you took one whiff of the place…
Ew. Definitely smells like boys live here, with a hint of water damage. 
You swallow, unsure what to make of this. You were also unaware as the four men crowded behind you, waiting. But when they noticed you weren’t giving them the light of day, the man who saved you cleared his throat, giving you a reason to look back. Oh, no… your emotions were starting to swirl.
“Alright, ma’am, listen–” He begins.
“What the fuck’s going on?!” You suddenly reply, your outburst surprising even yourself (I guess your processing stage was finally over). “Where am I?! And who the fuck are you?!”
He holds his hands up, trying to show off that he was no threat. “Relax, you're in our base of operations. My name is Bucky.”
You raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Bucky?”
What kind of name is that?
“Yes.” He gestures to his teammates. “These are my friends. The blonde’s Steve; The driver’s Sam, and the kid’s Peter.” They all muttered ‘Hi’ in some kind of way. “And you are…?”
Your shoulders slack at that. You realized they didn’t know who you were. 
Good.
You straighten up again. “Y/N.” 
“Y/N.” Bucky says, happy you're complying. “Nice to meet you. If you’ve got any questions? Ask away. I’m sure you have many.”
You nod slowly, reading to soak up any bit of info about these individuals. “Who exactly are you people?”
“We’re the Avengers. We…” He takes a quick second to find the right words. “Expose and stop, and if necessary, kill corrupted supes.”
You felt yourself blink a few times. You were not expecting that. “What?”
“You heard us correctly, Ma’am. We’re an anti-supe group.”
An anti-supe…what? You felt your heart pick up at those words. Your mind wanders to when you almost activated your powers in the warehouse. You wonder if you’d be dead by now if you did. 
“Anti-supe?” It still felt weird to say. In fact, you wonder if you ever said those words before. You dared to ask the next question. “W-why kill them?” 
“Because a good chunk of them, especially the ones on the fucking Thunderbolts team, have villainous intentions that need to be stopped.”
“We’ve been hired by the CIA to do so.” Sam adds, like it was supposed to make this situation better (Does it though?).
You were shocked beyond words. You really weren’t expecting that. “The CIA hired you? Th-They made this group?”
How could they… Your breath got caught in your throat at a morbid thought.
Oh god… They’re planning to actually kill us.
“But…” Your mind flashes back to earlier again. Your husband is crossing your thoughts. “T-The people I saw… the Thunderbolts, they… th-they killed one of their own.”
“Battlestar probably flipped the script. So Crossbones, Glamour and Killmonger decided to finish him off.” Sam explains, his words hurting you deeply. 
“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened before.” Steve says, adding more salt into the wound.
“B-Before…?” You mumbled in disbelief. 
I guess I really don’t know my teammates after all. Or… my husband if that really is true.
You looked ill after thinking that, and I guess they noticed rather quickly.
“Look–” Bucky says, taking a cautious step forward. “I know what you witness is horrible, and I know this a lot to take in as well, but unfortunately I have to ask you to keep this all a secret.”
You blinked for the millionth time today. “What? What the hell do you mean by that?”
“It means you can’t go to the police.”
You scoff. “Can’t go to the police, huh? Sir, I just witnessed three people killing someone and you’re asking me to keep quiet about it?”
“Ma’am, Listen–”
“You’re insane! I have to go to the police! I have to tell them what I saw! I have to tell him that they… they…”
That they killed my husband.
Bucky gives you an empathetic look. “I know. But the Thunderbolts have some cops under their thumbs. If you go to the wrong one and tell them what you saw, they’ll kill you on the spot, make your death look like an accident or even a suicide. Trust me, I’ve seen it first hand. I’m trying to save you from that kind of fate.”
You swallow, your throat feeling dry. “So… what do you expect me to do?” You asked, eyes starting to sting with unshed tears. Your emotions are starting to appear at full steam as the adrenaline seeps away.
“Well, you could stay here with us. We can–”
“No.” You shake your head. “No, no, no. I… I-I can’t. I can’t. I-If I just up and disappear there will b-be people looking for me and…” You sigh trying to calm yourself. “I’m sorry.”
I-I can’t leave. Not yet. I can’t until I…
“It’s okay. I understand.” Bucky says, smiling softly that it didn't quite match the expression in his eyes. “We can figure something else out.”
“Actually, boss. There was no activity outside. It’s safe to just take her home.” Peter cuts in, sending you a much brighter smile than Bucky did (this kid really knew what heart strings to hit).
“Yeah. We can just take you home. Straight home if that’s what you would like instead. We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with.”
You clenched and turned away, your hand running through your hair. You really didn’t know what to think of this. You didn’t really know if you can even trust these people. And after everything you witnessed a little while ago, you wonder if you could ever trust anyone again.
You faced them again, still weary. “Fine. You can just take me home.”
But I’ll be keeping my guard up.
“Alright.” Bucky said, gesturing to the van with his head. “I’ll drive you.”
“I’ll go with you too just in case.” Sam replies, following. 
You held your breath as you trailed behind, but before you crawled into the back, you felt the teenager’s hand tugging on your sleeve. 
“I know this is scary, Miss, but trust me when I say this, that we really are trying to help you. Just remember that.” Peter said, with a smile that could warm anyone up.
You return the expression as he lets your arm go, backing up next to Steve to give you some space that you greatly appreciated. You climbed into the back and closed the door, scooting next to your bike. You watch Bucky get into the driver’s seat, Sam in the passenger, both sharing a quick look before driving off. You hugged your knees, both to stabilize your emotions and your powers surging at your fingertips. You could hardly breathe at the tension you felt inside the van. A tension that you decided that might be necessary.
Just keep your guard up. Just keep it up. You chanted to keep yourself sane.
A long time had passed before Bucky spoke out of the blue.
“So where exactly do you live? I want to make sure I’m going the right way.” 
You cast a look at the windows on the back doors, noticing the black tinting on them and frowned.
“Just… Just drop me off anywhere on 11th street.” You reply, and hug yourself a bit more. 11th street is where the restaurant you were supposed to go to tonight was on. There was no way you could tell them to go to the tower. If they find out who you really are, you’ll probably end up dead.
“11th?” Bucky said, surprised. “Look, I just drop you off at–”
“If you want me to trust you, then you have to trust me. Drop me off at 11th.”
You watched the two men share a look again before you felt the car turning into what you assumed was the direction you asked. A long moment passed again before you felt the van pulling up next to a curb, Sam telling you that you were here. You said nothing as you shifted and opened the two doors, your hands soon resting on your bike handles–
“Here.” Bucky says, holding out a small slip of paper. “This is my number.”
You carefully take it, eyes reading it over still not muttering a word. You hear him sigh, but not one of frustration, just concern.
“Look, I would appreciate it if you could text me in the morning, just to make sure you’re okay. Then after that, you can burn if you like. You’ll never have to hear or see us again. Okay?”
You swallow and nod slowly once more, tucking the number away before cautiously taking your bike out of the van. You met his gaze one last time, replying with,
“And please don’t follow me, because I will know.” You close one door, and flash a very, very small smile. “Thank you.”
You close the other one, and snag your helmet to put on. You felt the van behind you pull away into the night,  and you waited a minute or two before surveying the area. When you realize that they were actually gone, then that’s when you hopped onto your bike and rode to the place you were dreading to go.
•°•°•°•°•°
You almost broke into tears on the way over there. Almost puked into your helmet at the horrible scene waiting for you. You still prayed that this was fake. A dream. Your worst nightmare. But as you rode up to where you found John’s car parked behind Brock’s, you saw your car you lent to your friend along with a bunch of police vehicles.
Your heart sank as you saw the yellow tape hung up everywhere, with men and women in blue trying to usher the heavy crowds away. You rode your bike until you couldn’t anymore, parking it and throwing your helmet off as you started swimming into the crowd. You felt your heart beating in your ears, your mouth going dry, your emotions going into absolute overdrive. 
You jogged up right to the police tape, right up the barrier dividing you and the terrible crime scene. Your mind was still trying to deny it all, even after you found yourself locking eyes with John who looked almost as a mess as you. You tried taking a step towards him, but you felt an officer's hand against your chest, telling you to stay back.
“Hey! Let her through! She works at the tower!” John calls out. A white lie, sure. But he couldn’t exactly shout your secret ID to a lot full of superfans.
His words were all it took for you to be let through. As you ran up towards him, shaking your head, still trying to fucking deny everything.
“John… don’t tell me it’s…” You said, barely getting the words.
Please tell me I hallucinated everything. Please tell me I’m just crazy. Please tell me–
But when he shakes his head with a sorry expression, your whole world collapses.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. I saw the body. It really is, Lemar.” 
"No…" You start crying just as he starts pulling you into his arms. “No, No, No, No, No, No…” He starts gently stroking your hair as you sob. “H-How… w-what…?”
You’re not sure why you even asked because you knew what happened; But maybe, just maybe, you hoped it was still hoped that the murderers you saw were someone else. You feel his chest move tightly, like he was sucking in a shaky gulp of air before speaking.
"Lemar had picked up something suspicious on the way back to the tower and decided to check it out.” John starts explaining, holding you a little tighter. “Not long after, he sent a distress beacon for one of us to pick up, but when they arrived they found his body."
You sobbed again. "They?" 
"Yeah, Brock, Agatha and Erik were in the area.”
As soon as he said that, you peaked over his shoulder just in time to see the three of your teammates stepping out of the building, wearing sorrowful expressions that made your insides ache. Those… those bastards were trying to act like they fucking care about your husband. They–
“I'm sorry. We'll find out who did this, Y/N." John promises with all his heart. A promise you know he’ll keep to his very end.
As much as you wanted to start screaming and lunge after them, you were just so emotionally drained that eventually your legs gave out…
And you passed out in John’s arms.
•°•°•°•°•°
You closed the door with the strength you had left. When you had awoken not too long ago, you were riding in the passenger seat of John’s car, and instead of breaking the ice (no matter what the circumstances were) like you always do, you just stayed silent; Your eyes so distant as you stared out the window. When you got back to the tower, you ignored everyone on your way back to your apartment. If Lemar’s death was done differently, you think you would have craved the pity and condolences everyone was giving you; But the fact that he was killed by the people you considered family, well…
You weren’t sure who you could trust anymore. You could trust John, that was for sure, but the rest of your teammates? 
Hell-fucking-no.
You weren’t even sure if you could trust the workers in the building. 
You let out a breath you didn’t know you had, and mustered up some more energy to push yourself away from the door; Standing tall yet shaky and nauseous. You bite your tongue to try to stop yourself from puking, To stop the dizzy spell. You had to take a shower. You had to wash off the muck and the nonexist blood. You could still see the blood all over your husband’s body, it’s–
You gag and cover your mouth. 
Shower. I just need to shower. You tell yourself, and take wobbly steps towards the bathroom. You desperately wanted to stay in hot water, laying against the cool tiles, laying for hours until—
.
.
.
.
He squeezes your hand. “Listen, just in case this mission goes south, or… I-I don’t make it to dinner tonight-” Another squeeze. “Promise me that you won’t come looking for me right away.”
.
.
.
.
You froze.
Wait…
You turn to look at your closet, still half way opened and begging you to take another look inside. Your mind flashed to the suitcase, the passports. You remember the confusing thought of why he even had those out. But now, after what you just witnessed, it was all starting to make sense.
You practically ran towards the closet.
.
.
.
.
“Oh, Lemar, Lemar, Lemar.” Brock said, kneeling before him. “Oh, Lemar, if only you just kept your nosy ass out of our business, then none of this would have happened. Honestly. The truth is–”
He touches your husband’s face, making him wince painfully, continuing, “I never really wanted to kill anyone on my team. I really do see so much potential in all of you, it’s insane.” 
.
.
.
.
You ripped open the empty suitcase, searching through all the pockets and zippers you can find for anything. Anything that can give you a clue on what your husband predicted.
What did you find out, Lemar? You asked the air, slamming the suitcase closed before searching through your passports.
What did you find out that made our teammates kill you? What did you find? You found nothing and sprung to your feet. From there you started tearing apart your husband’s side of the closet, making a mess all over the floor.
Give me something! You gotta give me something, honey. Please! You begged while tightening your jaw.
.
.
.
.
His light laughs made your stomach turn in a way they’ve never done before. It made you physically ill on many levels.
.
.
.
.
You raced around the room, opening and looking for anything that was Lemar’s, praying and praying that you’ll find something. Even if it was the smallest clue in the world, you’ll still fucking take it.
.
.
.
.
“However…” Brock rants on, his grin starting to falter a bit. “You just had to do this. You just had to figure out how the game is really played. You had to play God. Well–” He pulls him closer. “That’s going to cost you, my friend.”
You clenched your fists, trying to keep your nerves calm as you searched for an opening to interfere.
.
.
.
.
You empty out drawers, boxes, his side of the bed, under the mattress, the covers, Anything. But you were running out of options. You only had one thing of his left.
His laptop.
You had a small spark of hope as you turned it on.
.
.
.
.
Brock’s grin grew again, even more sinister than before, with an unnerving proposition behind it. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure your wife’s taken care of. I’ll make sure to be there when she needs me. I’ll hold her at your funeral, and I’ll whisper the comforting things she wants to hear. And maybe…”
.
.
.
.
You typed in his password, the words so personal that they struck a cord but you pushed it aside, waiting for the home screen to appear.
.
.
.
.
He licks his lips at a sudden thought. “Maybe she’ll let me in enough to take care of her. Show her what a real man is. You know?”
As your eyes shined purple for flight—
.
.
.
.
When the screen finally loaded, you froze again.
.
.
.
.
You watched as Brock snapped Lemar’s neck with ease.
.
.
.
.
You slammed the laptop closed, not even thinking about the damage you may have caused to it. 
Encrypted.
The whole funking laptop was encrypted. The words on the screen, the files, and even the fucking search engine was encrypted to something you couldn’t even read. You were frustrated. Beyond frustrated. Whatever your husband had discovered was well hiddened on his screen. 
Damn it. Damn it! You metally sigh, closing your eyes and laying your forehead against the cold surface of the desk. You were pissed because you were no hacker. How the hell were you supposed to decrypt this?
Funny you think this because your brain suddenly reminds you of a certain teenage boy you met not too long ago. He was a hacker from the looks of it.
Could he…? You shake your head at such a bad idea. 
What the hell am I thinking? He works in an anti-supe team. I’m on top of their food chain. They’ll kill me if they find out who I am. 
Yet, there was still a very small percentage of your brain telling you to go for it. To give that Bucky guy a call, to set up a meeting, to tell them who you are and what really happened.
Maybe… if I tell them who Lemar is to me, they’ll take pity? But you couldn’t see into the future, you couldn’t predict the outcome. For all you know it could go completely sideways.
You groan loudly, throwing your head back, hands in your hair.
I’m sooooo fucked.
You racked your brain for some answers. Who could trust? What should be your next move? Who could you call? You go back and forth between many names, but there’s one that comes to mind many times out of all of them. And after witnessing the death of your husband, that name made your blood boil.
You pick up your phone and dial the number by heart. Your foot was tapping in rhythm with the ringing. You heard a familiar voice on the other side.
‘SHIELD International, This is Sitwell. How may I transfer your call?’
You swallow the anger you started to feel, but you felt it still simmering at the surface. You clenched your fist and said,
“Put my father on the phone.”
_____________________________________________________________
-Taglist-
@marvelouslovely-barnes @daddyavesxx
47 notes · View notes
waitimcomingtoo · 2 years
Text
Her Perfumes Holding Me Ransom
pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: your new perfume makes Peter unable to keep his hands off of you
Warnings: not smut but still inappropriate so don’t engage if you’re a minor or I’m telling your mom 😡
Masterlist
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“Are you almost ready honey?” Peter asked as he fixed his hair over your shoulder as you both stood in front of the mirror. You were getting ready for a house party together in your dorm.
“Almost. Just give me a second.” You said as you put on some lipstick.
“Okay. Take your time.” Peter kissed your bare shoulder before going over to wait by the door. You picked up your new perfume and rubbed it behind each ear and then on your wrist. You rubbed your wrists together to spread the scent and the put the bottle down. Peter immediately perked up and started to sniff the air. He felt all the blood rush to his head, then rush straight down. He turned around and looked at you as you were fixing your hair.
“What’s that smell?”
“Probably me. I’m wearing a new perfume.” You shrugged and walked away from the mirror.
“That’s perfume?” Peter asked as he sniffed the air again. He smiled a little as the most delicious scent he had ever smelled filled his nose. It was overwhelming him, but in a good way. He sniffed the air again and let out a happy sigh.
“Yeah. I found it online. It’s supposed to mix with your natural pheromones or something and enhance your natural scent.” You told him as you grabbed your purse.
“Oh.” Peter said quietly as his face turned a deep red.
“Why? Do you not like it?”
“No I do!” Peter said quickly. “I really do. You smell….you smell good.”
Peter was quiet for a moment as he sniffed the air again. He could barely focus because of how intoxicating your perfume smelled. Peter shook himself out of his trance and pulled you closer by the hand.
“You smell really good.” He said softly before connecting his lips to yours. You smiled into the unexpected kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck. Peter put his hands on your face to deepen the kiss as he inhaled your scent once again.
“Why don’t we just stay home tonight?” He whispered against your lips.
“You don’t want to go to the party?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to go. I’d just rather stay in tonight.” He smiled and pecked your lips again.
“And this is just occurring to you now?” You raised an eyebrow. “As we’re about to leave?”
“I just changed my mind. Unless you want to go.”
“Well it depends. Did you have something in mind that you wanted to do instead?” You asked with a coy smile. Peter smiled back and pulled you into another kiss.
“Maybe.” He mumbled against your lips.
“Maybe?”
“Yeah. I thought we could put on a movie.” He said as he started to trail his kisses down your neck while your scent filled his nose.
“And then not watch the movie.” He said before nipping at the skin of your check. Your got chills down your spine and let your eyes flutter shut as he continued to kiss you neck.
“Come on.” He whispered. “Don’t make me beg.”
“Well now that you’ve put the idea in my mind, I kinda want you to beg.” You teased as he popped his head back up.
“Pretty please?” Peter whined.
“All our friends are there.” You reminded him. “They’re expecting us to show up.”
“But wouldn’t you rather stay here with me?” Peter whined again.
“We do have the place to ourselves. That’s pretty rare.” You said as you started to give into his idea.
“Exactly. Let’s take advantage of the opportunity that has been so graciously given to us.” Peter said with a cheeky smile before pulling you into a long kiss. He nipped at your bottom lip and pulled it between his teeth as he kissed you, something a little bolder than his normal behavior. When you pulled away, your decision had been made.
“All right. Let me take off this dress then.” You playfully rolled your eyes and went to get some pajamas out of your drawers.
“Let me help you. You’ve had a long day.” Peter said with over exaggerated sympathy, making you chuckle. He took your hand and led you over to your bed, where he took a seat. He sat you down on his knee and moved your hair to the side so it wouldn’t get caught in the zipper. A chill went down your spine as Peter unzipped your dress all the way down. He then took a black hair tie off his wrist and tied your hair into a loose ponytail, the way he knew you liked to wear it when you were relaxing. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade before patting your hip. You playfully rolled your eyes again and got off his lap to get the pajamas you had taken out.
“Honey?” Peter asked as you stepped out of your party dress.
“Yeah?”
“Leave the heels.” He said simply, making you smile.
“Whatever you say.” You smiled deviously at him before going back over to the bed.
Just as Peter suggested, you put on a movie but didn’t watch it. Your roommate was at the party you had bailed on so you didn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting you. Peter was rougher with you than usual but you weren’t complaining. It was the kind of sex that you knew would left you sore and covered in marks for days, but you weren’t complaining about that either. As much as you loved how sweet and loving Peter typically was, you liked his dark side too. And that dark side was on full display that night in your dorm room. You’d feel guilty about disturbing your neighbors sleep if you weren’t having such a good time. He ended up falling asleep in your bed but you were gone but the time he woke up. Peter could still smell your perfume on your sheets as his hand felt around your bed for your body. He frowned when he found nothing and sat up a little. Instead of seeing you, he made eye contact with your roommate at her desk.
“Hey.” He said awkwardly.
“Hey. Rough night?” She asked flatly.
“No. It was a great night.” Peter smiled sleepily and put his head back down on the pillow. He slept for another hour before going back to his dorm, taking a shower, and going to his first class. As soon as it was over, Peter searched the hallways until he found you. He smelt you before he saw you as your perfume lingered in the air. He was sure he was the only one who could smell it, and there was something about that that he liked. He felt like one of those cartoons that floated in the air as the followed a scent. Finally, he found you in the hallway outside a class. He immediately wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed your neck, immediately smelling your new perfume. The scent engulfed him and he inhaled it before kissing your neck again.
“Hi. I missed you.” He mumbled against your neck.
“I missed you too baby boy.” You smiled as you turned around in his arms.
“I could smell you all the way down the hall. Are you wearing that perfume again?” He whispered as he nipped at your lips.
“I sure am.” You smiled and kissed him back.
“I love it. It smells like you but times ten.” Peter smiled deviantly as he slipped his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
“Can you multiple a scent by ten?” You teased him.
“Apparently. You smell so good.” He whined and leaned in to kiss you again. Peter kissed you for longer then you expected and you pulled away, knowing people would be looking at you.
“Peter.” You laughed in surprise and looked around the hallway at the students staring.
“What? Let people stare. I can’t resist you right now. I’m serious, I’m gonna start barking.” He said, making you laugh.
“Do not bark.”
“I might have to. I’m feeling woofy.” Peter said with a low grow and nipped at your lips again.
“No barking. We cannot be that couple. We cannot be the barking couple.” You said definitively.
“Then I’ll just stick to biting.” Peter smirked and leaned in to nip at your neck.
“We are in public mister.” You laughed in embarrassment and pushed him off of you.
“Then let’s go somewhere else.” Peter suggested as he nipped at your lips again.
“I have class.” You whined between kisses.
“And I have a massive love for my girlfriend then cannot be contained.” Peter shrugged and pulled you back into a kiss.
“Keep your massive love in your pants and let me go to class.” You snorted and started to walk away.
“But I don’t have class and I’m gonna be so bored without you. Can’t you just skip for one day?” Peter asked as he followed you like a puppy.
“And miss out on Spanish three? I don’t think so. If I skip today, we’ll probably learn something new and I’ll never be able to catch up. So my answer is no. I can even say that in Spanish. Noh.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t skip a class just for me.” Peter sighed but didn’t stop following.
“Thank you.”
“So can I come with you?” He asked just when you thought he had dropped it.
“What? To Spanish three?” You laughed in surprise.
“That class is huge. Your professor will never know I’m not supposed to be there.”
“You’re that bored that you’re offering to sit in on my hour and a half Spanish class?”
“It’s less about boredom and more about me being clingy.” Peter admitted as he slipped his hand into yours.
“Peter.” You laughed and playfully swatted his arm.
“You’re dating a clingy man.” He said simply, making you laugh again.
“Okay fine. You can come with me. But you better behave.”
“I will. I promise.”
Ten minutes into your class, his hand was on your knee and traveling up.
“You promised.” You hissed and pushed his hand off.
“I’m just resting my hand.” Peter said innocently and put his hand back on your knee. You rolled your eyes and let it stay there as you tried to focus on your class. A couple minutes went by and his hand slowly started to travel up. You gave him a stern look but said nothing. After another few minutes, it started going up again. Another few minutes after that, it was gripping your upper thigh.
“Peter.” You hissed and gave him a look.
“My hand is cold.” He whispered.
“Your hand is not cold. You’re just a whore.” You whispered back and removed his hand.
“Maybe so.” Peter smirked and put his hand right back. You pushed it off and he put it back again. You gave him a look and aggressively shoved his hand off of your leg. He waited a few seconds before putting it back on. You let out a little huff and shoved his hand again, but he was relentlessly. He let a full minute pass before putting his hand back on your leg. You pushed his hand away again and this time, caught the attention of several students as well as your teacher.
“Senorita L/n. ¿Hay algún problema?” Your professor asked you.
“No. Lo siento Señor Chavez.” You replied and shrunk down in your seat as several people turned around to look at you.
“Lo siento mi amor.” Peter leaned over to whisper in your ear.
“Shut up. You don’t even know what that means.”
“It’s means the siento is running low.” Peter scoffed and rolled his eyes.
“Dios mio.” You mumbled under your breath.
“What was that?” Peter wondered. “Don’t say things that Dora never said or I’m not gonna understand you.”
“Shut up or you’re banned from my dorm for a week.” You whispered as you tried not to laugh.
“No.” Peters eyes widened. “Please.”
“I’ll make it two weeks.” You warned.
“I’ll be quiet.” He promised.
Peter kept his promise and stayed silent for the next few minutes. You were able to concentrate on your work until you saw a little note slid across your desk.
“Can I at least hold your hand?” The note said. You rolled your eyes and held out your hand, which Peter happily took. He flashed you an excited smile before kissing the back of your hand. You bit your tongue to keep from laughing and focused on your lesson again. The class ended soon enough and all the students spilled out of the classroom. You held Peters hand as you walked down the halls and towards the dorms.
“That was so long. But at least you’re finally mine.” Peter said as he wrapped both arms around you and kissed your cheek a few times.
“Not so fast, lover boy. I have homework.”
“I’ll do it.” He offered immediately.
“You’d do my homework?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“If it means I get to do you after.” Peter said simply, making you let out a shocked laugh.
“What is with you today? Did you snort smarties again?” You went from playful to serious as you asked him.
“Nope. I’m just obsessed with you.” Peter said as he slung an arm around you and kissed your temple.
“If you say so.” You chuckled and slipped your hand back into his. As soon as you stepped foot into his dorm, Peter was kissing you. He pressed you up against the door he slipped his hand under your shirt. You were a little caught off guard but kissed him anyway as he picked you up. You never broke the kiss as Peter laid you down on your bed and started to kiss your neck.
“I said I had homework.” You reminded him as he sucked a bruise into your skin.
“You can do it after.” He mumbled against your neck before taking a bite.
“After what?” You played dumb.
“I’ll show you.” Peter smirked and kissed you again.
An hour later, you were both naked and tangled in his sheets as you faced each other. Peters hair was sticking up in every direction which you found pleasantly adorable. Peter was staring at you with a fond smile as he took in your scent. Your sweat had enhanced the perfume and your pheromones even more and Peter was in heaven. He was completely intoxicated and drunk on you, and he loved it.
“Can I sleep over?” Peter asked as he traced patterns on your hip with his fingertips.
“You know I’d let you but roommate is home tonight.” You pouted and pushed some hair off his forehead.
“Then can you sleep over here?”
“What about Ned?”
“He can survive one night on the streets.” Peter said simply.
“Peter.” You chuckled. “You can’t just kick him out.”
“I can if it’s for a good cause.” He insisted.
“What cause?” You humored him.
“Because I want to have sex. Like right now. And preferably for the rest of the night as well.”
“We just had sex.” You reminded him. “What is up with you lately? It’s like you’re in heat or something. Is this because of the spider thing?”
“That spider thing? Is that what we’re calling it?” Peter chuckled as he absentmindedly played with a strand of your hair.
“Well I don’t know. When I met you, you were half the size you are now and wore glasses. Not to mention, you couldn’t barely look me in the eyes. But now you’re swoll and more confident and can do all these crazy things. And it’s not like you gave me a spreadsheet of what all your powers are. So forgive me for assuming the aggressive hornyness is because of the bite.”
“It’s not.” He smiled softly. “I’m just in love with you.“
“I know. But you’re never like this.” You chuckled as you intertwined your fingers with his.
“What do you mean? I’m always all over you, honey.”
“You’re cuddly and loving, yes. But it’s never been like this. You’ve never been into this much PDA or been this clingy. Somethings going on.”
“Nothings going on. I just love you.”
“Okay. I believe you. For now.” You said teasingly. You kissed his lips before getting out of the bed. Peter sat up and watched you as you got partially dressed, never taking his eyes off you. You were about to put your jeans back on when you saw his sad expression.
“So no sleepover?” He pouted.
“No sleepover, baby boy. I’m sorry.” You said and cupped his face as he sat on the edge of the bed. Peter let out a whine and wrapped his arms around you, resting his head against your tummy.
“Want you to stay.” He said softly.
“You’re cute when you’re clingy.” You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair.
“I just want to be with you always. Is that so bad?” He asked as he looked up at you. You looked down at his and his puppy dog eyes and felt yourself give in.
“Fine. I’ll sleepover. But you have to clear it with Ned first.”
“I will. I promise.” Peter grinned and pulled you back down on the bed.
“Good.” You said as he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled out his phone and sent Ned a quick text to let him know about the plans.
“Ned said he’s gonna sleep over at his friends dorm. We’ll have the place to ourselves.” Peter told you with a smile.
“Great. I’m gonna go back to my dorm and shower first.” You told him. You pecked his lips and got out of the bed again, much to Peters dismay.
“Can’t you just shower here? I can even join you.”
“Ew, in the boys bathroom? No way. There’s probably bacteria living in those showers that hasn’t even been named by scientists yet. And last time I was in there, I saw a lizard.”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“What was the misunderstanding?”
“The lizard misunderstood where he was.” Peter explained, making you laugh.
“Well in order to avoid another misunderstanding, I’m gonna go back to the girls dorm to shower.” You told him. You started to walk away but Peter shot a web at you and yanked you back towards his bed. You fell onto the bed, right into his arms, and he tightly wrapped them around you.
“But I don’t want you to go.” He whined as he buried his face in your neck.
“I’ll come right back after I shower.” You promised him.
“Why do you need to shower? It’s just me.”
“Because I was outside in the hot sun and I smell like the outdoors.”
“No you don’t. You smell great.” Peter said as he started to kiss your neck again.
“You’ve mentioned that.“ You chuckled as Peter moved his kisses up to behind your ear.
“Come on.” He whined. “Don’t take a shower. I like the flavor of the marination.”
“Oh my God.” You laughed. “You didn’t just say that.”
“Ew. I’ve never heard someone use the contraction in the sentence before. It’s “you did not just say that”. You can’t just throw “didn’t” in there like that all willy nilly. There are rules.”
“Fine. You did not just say that.” You humored him.
“Thank you.” Peter smiled sweetly before kissing your lips.
“You’re welcome. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.” You told him. You tried to get up but he rolled on top of you to keep you there.
“No.” He whined.
“You’ll be fine without me.”
“No I won’t. Stay. Please?”
“Peter. Let me go.” You laughed and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. You managed to break free and started crawled away from him but he yanked you back by your ankles. You laughed as he climbed back on top of hover over you.
“No shower. Just stay with me.” He said as he hovered over you.
“I have to shower.” You groaned and tried to crawl away again. He pulled you by the leg back towards his and leaned down to bite your butt.
“Ow!” You laughed. “No biting. Let me go.”
“I can’t. I love you too much.” He said as he wrapped back arms around your legs and rested his head on your butt.
“Peter!” You whined and tried to break free.
“What?” He asked innocently.
“Let go of me.” You said again, and he finally listened. Peter sighed and sat up in his bed while you got out of it.
“When will you be back?”
“Twenty minutes. Like I said.”
“Can you put the perfume on after you shower?” Peter asked sweetly.
“I will.” You said before mumbling, “Slut.”
“Stop it!” Peter playfully gasped. “I’m not a slut.”
“Sure. I’ll be back.” You told him as you pulled up your jeans. Peter sighed again and flopped down on his bed as you left his room. It wasn’t long before you came back in wearing a pajamas set with your wet hair resting on your shoulders. Your scent was amplified and radiating off your skin, making Peter smile wildly.
“Oh my God, finally. That took forever.” Peter said as he excitedly sat up in his bed.
“I was gone for less than 20 minutes.” You laughed at how over dramatic he was.
“I know. That was way too long. Never leave me for that long again.”
“You’re ridiculous.” You smiled softly and shook your head.
“Ridiculously in love with you. Now come here. Right now.” Peter playfully commanded and patted his lap. You broke into a smile and walked over to him, immediately going into his arms. Peter wrapped his arms around you as you both fell back onto his bed.
“This is all I wanted. I love you, honey.” Peter sighed happily.
“I love you more. And I have to admit, I kind of like clingy Peter. He’s cute.” You smiled softly at him as you rested your chin on his chest to look up at him.
“Clingy Peter likes you.” Peter returned the smile as he played with your wet strands of hair. You propped yourself up so that you could kiss him again, which he happily accepted. He put his hands on your face and rolled on top of you. One hand slipped underneath your pajama top as he moved his kisses down your neck and chest.
“Hmm. You smell so good.” He mumbled against the skin of your neck.
“Well I just showered.” You reminded him.
“It’s not that. It’s just you. You naturally smell amazing.”
“This is so Twilight. You don’t even know.”
“Less talking more kissing.” Peter said against your lips before kissing you again. You made out on his bed for a minute until Peter had to pull away for air.
“You smell so fucking good.” He mumbled before going in again.
“Oh my God. Wait a minute. That’s why you’re whoring out lately? Because of my perfume?”
“I wouldn’t call it whoring out.” Peter mumbled under his breath.
“I would.” You snorted. “And now I know why. It’s because of my pheromones, isn’t it? That’s what’s got you all drunk in love.”
“I just like the way you smell.” Peter said sheepishly. “It’s really attractive to me.”
“Really? You’re attracted to my scent?” You asked with a coy smile.
“Yeah. I can’t explain it. It’s just amazing.” Peter sighed happily as he took in your scent.
“It’s just perfume.” You chuckled.
“It’s not just perfume. It’s you. I wanna sip you like a cup of tea.” Peter growled a little as he leaned in to nip at your neck.
“Oh really?“ You sighed happily as he sucked another bruise into your throat.
“Yes. I can’t get enough.” He whispered between kisses.
“And you’re sure this isn’t a spider thing?”
“No.” Peter said after hesitating for a moment.
“Oh no.” You chuckled. “What’s that pause for?”
“It might be a little bit of a spider thing.”
“So I was right!” You gasped and sat up with an excited smile.
“I said might!” Peter reminded you. “I have enhanced smelling. I can always smell you, but the perfume makes it ten times better. So much better, in fact, that I simply can’t resist you.”
“I guess I should wear it more often.” You smiled deviously.
“I might snap you in half if you do.” Peter smirked and leaned in to kiss you.
“What?” You laughed against his lips.
“That was supposed to sound sexy.” He whined. “I mean I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”
“Oh yeah?” You smiled. “Well that’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.”
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lucky-bucky-boy · 11 months
Text
Blooming Showers
Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: A split-second decision leads to a night full of changes
Word Count: 3610
Warnings: Angst with some fluff at the end, little use of Y/N, assigned nickname towards the end, distrust, anger, wound/mention of blood, anxiety, racing thoughts, friends-to-lovers
A/N: This is definitely my longest piece I’ve written in a really long time. I started watching TASM with my cousin and friends and immediately fell in love with Andrew Garfield all over again so I NEEDED to write something. This isn’t smutty but I kind of want to do a part two thats smutty and angsty
I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!
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Rain softly padded against the window, causing the lights from outside to cast soft shadows, the lights from passing cars making those shadows dance. It was quiet, almost serene in New York - the sirens were few a far between tonight, and distant as well, the occasional coo of a bird trying to find shelter - there were no kids running down the fire escape trying to sneak out, no couples in petty arguments that shook through the thin walls.
Nights like this were few and far in-between, where for a few minutes you were able to fall in love with your city all over again, and you were able to remember every reason why you wanted to be here. 
The only thing that would've made the night better would have been seeing Peter, your lifelong best friend, and partner-in-chaos. Your phone lit up occasionally with messages from him, apologizing over and over for missing another scheduled movie night. 
It wasn't the end of the world, Aunt May needed help with something so you understood, but it still stung. This was the 4th one this year he'd miss. You understood when there was a foot of snow on the ground, and when midterms then finals week came, but it had felt like since graduation two weeks ago that Peter had been avoiding you. 
Trying not to dwell on the sinking feeling was hard, so many changes were happening and your brain was becoming more and more hyper-aware that more changes were bound to come. Graduation may overall be a good thing, opening up new opportunities and finally not having to worry about classes you'd never use a day in your adult life, but it also meant that you were about to start a new chapter of life. 
In an attempt to stop the racing thoughts, you decided Fuck Peter for missing your movie night and decided to watch a movie anyways. Pressing play on an old favorite, you left the comfort of your bed to grab some snacks from the kitchen. 
Ten minutes. That's all you were gone, but in those ten minutes, the city's beloved vigilante slid your window open, practically tumbling off of the fire escape and onto the floor. He did his best to avoid your bed, not wanting to soak it in the rain or the blood that was on him. 
There was a cut through his suit, not deep but enough to nick the skin and have scarlet drops dripping down. He reached for a towel that had been carelessly discarded by you earlier in the night, haphazardly tying his cut up with his free hand and then pulling his mask off. 
Peter's breaths were rugged, head now leaned back against your bed as he tried to calm himself from the adrenaline rush of the near-death experience he just had. Sure, he only had a cut and a few bruises to show for it, but he knew deep down without his enhanced sense he surely would have been dead. He hadn't even processed the split-second decision he made to go to your apartment instead of Aunt May's house. 
It wasn't until your shrill scream, the sound of the snacks hitting the floor that Peter's eyes flew open, looking at you as if he had just been caught committing a crime. His eyes were wide, realizing at that very moment the weight of his actions and inactions for the past several years. He didn't dare move, only a breathy sigh of your name leaving his lips. 
Your brain moved quickly once you realize that the intruder sitting on your floor was Peter… Your Peter, dressed in a red and blue skin-tight suit, holding a mask, with your towel wrapped around his arm. There had to be a reasonable explanation. 
"Peter?" You knew it was him, but your brain was still attempting to come up with some explanation as to why he was dressed as Spider-Man. 
You quickly grabbed the stuff you had dropped, putting it on the bed and kneeling next to him. "Peter, what the fuck is going on?"
He stared at you, blinking a few times and not sure what to say. He knew there was a lot he needed to say, a lot that needed to be explained but he didn't know where to start. He's been lying to you about a part of himself for years now. 
"I'm sorry," he breathed out, breaths still shaky. 
You now realized the towel was covering a cut, the smell of iron mixed with city rain present in your nose. "Shit, what the fuck. Are you okay? What the hell is going on?" 
He nodded, "I've been worse," he mumbled. "I'll be fine, don't worry 'bout me." He leaned his head back against your bed again, taking a heavy breath in. 
That was the worst thing he could have said to you. Don't worry, at this point, you were worried and confused about everything. 
"Peter, you're my best friend, you know I love you, but if I do not get an answer as to what is going on in the next minute I am kicking your ass and calling May."
His eyes opened, looking over at you. The look of regret and hurt was evident, "I'm so sorry," he said, barely moving. His body ached but his heart was aching more as he watched the expressions on your face change the more you noticed and pieced things together, "I should've told you but I was scared you'd get hurt."
"Peter, what should you have told me?" Your voice was betraying you, breaking and quivering as you attempted to be firm. 
"I- I'm Spider-Man, I've always been. That's- Something happened tonight and I had to go help-"
"So you've been lying to me for 5 years now?"
He went silent and all he could muster was a small nod. 
"You've been hiding this from me for 5 years? Peter - I - we tell each other everything. If you've been lying about this, then what else are you fucking lying about?"
The hurt in your voice was evident. It was more like betrayal, and distrust, and it wrenched his heart and gut. The silence lingered as you started piecing more and more together. 
Five years. For five whole years, through your senior year of high school and the entirety of your college career, you spent attached at the hip to Peter Benjamin Parker - and he had been lying to you about a pivotal part of his life. 
In hindsight, finding out Peter had been Spider-Man all this time made a lot of things make sense. Five years’ worth of last-minute cancellations, questionable excuses, black eyes, and bruises. 
There was your senior prom. Aunt May was so excited that Peter and you were going together, she had always joked and wished the two of you would end up as more than friends. "Just memories for your wedding one day", she would say. 
Everything leading up to prom was great. Peter went dress shopping with you, he got a tie to match the color of your dress, Aunt May made sure the two of you had a matching boutonniere and corsage, he even took you to and from your appointments the day of prom.
However, an hour into prom itself he had to leave hurriedly, frantically coming up with an excuse of not feeling good when moments prior you had just finished taking pictures and laughing at the cheesy poses. 
That one stung, but you never admitted it, at least not to him. Peter had insisted you stay behind, spend time with other friends and he'd see you the next day. You're not even sure if he knows you left 20 minutes after he did, heartbreaking and feeling stupid for hoping Aunt May could be right. 
The summer between your senior year of high school and your freshman year of college was filled with last-minute cancellations. 
Since you were kids, specifically since second grade every Friday night was movie night and a sleepover. Even as you grew into teenagers Aunt May and your parents worked out an arrangement they could both be comfortable with to let you two continue your little tradition. But that summer every single one was canceled or Peter would leave early. 
For weeks you were convinced Peter no longer wanted to be friends with you, that somehow, some way you upset him and he hated you. Until a week before college started and he called you out of the blue for coffee and school shopping. 
Suddenly, things seemed normal again. Aunt May's house was close enough that Peter would go home for the weekend, and you would usually just follow along for Friday and then head back to your dorm Saturday. You'd meet up to study a few times a week or go run errands together, you were even back to gaming together once a week. 
So, you figured that Peter's sudden change in behavior could have been from his break up with Gwen. You knew he didn't take it easy when she ended things after finding out she was accepted into Oxford. You couldn't blame her really, but you weren't happy to see Peter's heart breaking. He talked about it some, but his eyes would always tell you more than he actually would. 
Of course, Peter would bail occasionally throughout college, but a lot of it made sense. He forgot about a project due or was just plain tired from working part-time and doing school. 
The part that never made sense though were the bruises and scratches. Peter always had an excuse; got hurt in the lab, fell skateboarding, hurt himself helping Aunt May. But at the end of the day, that's all they were; Excuses. 
Peter reached out to you, the touch of his cold hand bringing you back from your racing thoughts. "I…I know I shouldn't have hid it, (Y/N), I'm sorry I did. There was so much going on, so many threats and I- I just didn't want you to get hurt. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if you got hurt."
Tears began to prick your eyes, instantly jumping away from his touch, the feeling of dread and distrust sinking deeper into you with the singular move.  "And what if you got hurt? How do you expect me to live with myself if you died?" Your voice was still shaky, fear now starting to fill in the gaps between each emotion. 
Your eyes wandered to the towel he had tied around himself, blood beginning to seep through. "Peter," you reached for his arm but he grabbed your hand, stopping you and making you look him in the eyes. 
"I'm okay, I promise. It'll heal quickly, just needed to stop the blood… I'll buy you a new towel." His voice was soft, his gaze never leaving yours. 
"I'm not worried about the stupid towel, Peter." You sighed, "I- How could you have hidden this from me for so long?" You asked again, this time much more upset than angry. 
Peter let out a shaky breath, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline and the full weight of his actions set in. "(Y/N), I mean it when I say I wanted to tell you," his voice was sincere, still holding onto your hand that had reached for his cut, "But I was more worried about your safety and making sure you wouldn't prioritize worrying about me over the rest of your life. The only person alive that knows is Harry. I never told anyone else, Aunt May doesn't even know."
It still hurt that Peter never told you, but it was starting to make sense, "How does Aunt May not know?" 
Peter shrugged, offering you a soft chuckle, "You know she only sees and hears what she wants to. I never told her, but I'm also shocked she hasn't figured it out."
Peter gave you a look that made you know he was truly sorry, lower lip pouted out some, eyes big and wide, almost looking like a kicked puppy. "I know I have a lot to explain to you, and I know I need to rebuild your trust in me, but I need you to understand that I am really sorry for hiding it for this long. I've wanted to tell you since it all started, but I was told that it could put everyone around me in danger if they knew so I didn't want anyone to find out."
As much as you hated it, you did understand it. Giving him a soft nod, you let go of his hand instead of moving to rake your hand through his hair to get it out of his face. "I understand, but I don't like it."
"You don't like anything that doesn't go your way," he teased with a soft laugh, quickly earning a glare from you that made him laugh more. "I'll also explain everything once I'm not still soaked and healing." He said, motioning to his arm. 
You nodded, "Did you wanna go take a shower? I can make some food or order takeout."
Peter thought for a moment then nodded. He unwrapped his arm, looking at the little scratch that was left behind from the wound he had not even 20 minutes prior. "Yeah, yeah let me go shower… do yo-"
"I'll put your clothes and a clean towel by the sink for you once you're in the shower. I'll also take your suit and the towel you have and throw it in the wash, okay? You just go get cleaned up while I find us some food."
Peter nodded, giving you a quick hug and kiss on the forehead before disappearing from your room. It took you a moment, immediately sitting down on the bed, attempting to process everything. 
Your best friend of 15 years is Spider-Man. Your favorite person is your favorite superhero. Your best friend has lied to you to be able to go save people. Your best friend could have died, and has probably almost died countless times.
To say it was a lot to take in was an understatement.
You could hear the shower start running in the room next to yours, the sound thankfully pulling you from your spiraling thoughts and panic. As you moved through the apartment, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven and collecting some spare clothes Peter had left behind at your place before, the emotions started to make sense. 
Yes, it did hurt that Peter had hidden this, but his reasoning made sense. The hurt that you couldn't shake was how many times you could have lost him. He could have been dead on top of a skyscraper, no one able to discover his body with how high up he is, and you would've been none the wiser. Or if he died on the streets and eventually was unmasked you'd be left to mourn with the rest of the world instead of being able to process the loss of your other half in private. You'd be learning and losing so much so quickly. You'd be lost in a pool of emotions so chaotic it would make this moment seem calm. 
Peter was back in your room about 20 minutes later, the pizza fresh out of the oven and sitting on the bed with you. You were looking at the TV, not really watching the forgotten movie you put on. As much as you tried to not let your thoughts continue to run wild, your brain didn't want to listen. 
He moved the pizza to the closest surface and sat on your bed, immediately pulling you in for a hug when he saw the lost look on your face. Your mind felt like it was a broken record, spinning fast but on repeat. 
"What's going through your head?"
There was no reason to reiterate the same thing you had told him earlier. You pulled off of him, sighing deeply before giving him a small smile, "A lot, but I'll be okay."
He nodded, "So… movie night? I definitely owe you one."
You nodded, looking up at the screen momentarily, your gaze being pulled to your phone as a new news alert popped up about Spider-Man. You didn't bother checking it, but you're brain did finally click the two puzzle pieces together fully that Peter is Spiderman. 
You looked over at him with narrowed eyes and a slight pout, "You're fucking Spider-Man," your tone was accusatory which caught him off guard, a slow nod all he was able to offer before you continued, "You have let me tell you for years that I'm in love with Spider-Man. That I would marry this person I thought I'd never meet. That's so embarrassing!" You whined at the end. 
Peter chuckled, a blush on his features and his hand going to mess with the back of his head. "Yeah… you finally realize that means you've been saying you're in love with me for like… 4ish years now?" He teased. 
It was a joke. It was just banter which was typical for Peter. He was always teasing, playful, and borderline flirty with you. But that statement rang a little too true. You froze, movements and breath seemingly paused, and Peter quickly noticed that your heart rate quickened. 
It wasn't the first time that happened around him. He's noticed countless times before how your skin would heat up and your heart rate would increase when he complimented you. He even noticed when he would do something, only sometimes accidentally, that would turn you on. Peter, not wanting to ruin your friendship or make you uncomfortable, never acted on it though. 
"You okay, daisy?" It was a nickname he didn't use often, but one that he's called you forever. It held a special place for him, a reminder of some of his first memories of you - flower hair pins and daisy doodles all over your school papers. It was also a term that usually had you flustered and stumbling. 
"You finally realize I've been in love with you longer than that?" 
Now it was Peter's turn to freeze, taking a moment to make sure he heard you right. He watched as you squirmed some, re-situating yourself and pulling at your clothes, heart rate quickening and eyes avoiding his. 
It made sense really, but he couldn't believe it. Peter has had a crush on you since your 5th-grade school dance where you wore a dress your parents let you pick out, so you were beaming with pride and excitement. He remembers you spending the night at Aunt May's after, staying up all night eating snacks and playing video games. 
Every day since he's made himself believe there was no way you'd like him back. Peter believed you were far out of his league, and even if that wasn't true he was too scared of losing you to take the risk of pursuing something more. 
"How long?" Maybe that wasn't the right response but he wanted to know, felt like he needed to know. 
"Longer than I can remember," you responded, breath shaky, "I can't lose you, Peter… I - Spider-Man or not, I can't lose you. And you coming in tonight, wounded and dropping a massive secret like that on me - Peter, you really scared me. I love you and losing you would kill me."
"You're not gonna lose me," his voice was soft.
"Don't make any promises you can't keep," you could feel the tears starting to form. 
Peter moved to you, his large hands coming to cup your face and make you look at him. "I'm not making a promise I can't keep. You're not gonna lose me. Not now, not because of being Spider-Man, not ever."
He waited for you to blind away your tears, using his hands to squish your cheeks in an attempt to cheer you up a little. Once he got a soft laugh out of you, he broke out into a smile. "I love you," he said firmly, "I'm in love with you. I have been since we were kids." He confessed to you. "So I mean it, I'm not going anywhere."
Peter watched your eyes get wide as you processed what he said, feeling your skin heat up under his hands, "Can I kiss you?" His voice was soft and airy. 
A slight nod was all he needed before he pressed his lips to yours. It was intense and soft and sweet, everything and anything all at once. Butterflies erupted from low in your belly and vibrated your chest. His chapped lips moved in sync against your bite-swollen lips, sending waves of electricity and emotions down your spine and through every nerve. 
He pulled away, leaning his forehead against yours as the both of you caught your breaths. His hands fell from your face, searching for your own hands. "I know I have a lot to explain, I have a lot of work to do to make you feel secure and know I'll be here, but I'll do whatever it takes, daisy, I promise." 
She huffed out a small laugh, pulling away and nodding, "Thank you, Petey," you pressed another quick kiss to his lips before pulling away fully, giggling at the almost shocked look he had on his face, "Looks like we both have a lot to get used to." Your gaze softened some, "No more secrets?"
Peter laughed as well, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips, presently multiple kisses to them. "No more secrets
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