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#peter parker x reader
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Treat You 6
Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)
Note:Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.
Part of The Club AU
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You rub your arm as you stand to the side, waiting as Peter pays at the till for the two bags worth of groceries. The easiness of his transaction, the casualness of his snack spree, needles in your head. You never walked the aisles without a specific number and strict list of necessities. He strolled around, offering to buy you any sweet snack that stuck out to him.
You refused it all. You already feel like too much. The way you tower over him and lope around after him like a strange shadow makes you want to wilt away.
As he gets his receipt you grab the bags from the end of the till. Peter startles you as his hand wraps around yours and you flinch, facing him. 
“Sorry, I wasn’t… I was trying to help–”
“I’ll carry them,” he insists, “please, you’re my guest. You don’t have to carry the bags.”
“I don’t mind,” you say but let him take the groceries. You’re embarrassed by your misplaced courtesy.
“I know you don’t mind, but I do,” he says, “Aunt May wouldn’t like me making a pretty girl do all the heavy lifting.”
You dip your chin down, “right.”
“Well, let’s go,” he steps past you, “i hear my Switch calling us.”
You trail after him and wring your hands. You peek over at the tills as you pass. You’ve never been in this place before. It’s too overpriced for your pockets.
“Switch?” You wonder as you follow him through the automatic doors.
“Uh yeah, the system?” He explains, “man, you’re gonna love it. It’s so much fun. We could do some practice rounds before everyone gets there.”
“Sure, I guess,” you agree as you cross the parking lot.
“Don’t sound so excited,” he teases as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the keys.
“Sorry,” you mutter.
“Kidding,” he says as he puts the bags in the backseat, “trust, this is gonna be hype.”
🪻
Peter leads you up to a small two-story house. It’s a lot nicer than your father’s apartment. The walls aren’t peeling or stained and the floors are clean. You stop just inside to remove your shoes as he does the same, the bags on the short bench against the wall.
“Peter?” A voice precedes the appearances of an older woman, her dark hair wavy and woven with strands of silver, “you’re back. I didn’t think I’d catch you before Denise got here– oh,” she stops short as she sees you, “who’s this?”
Peter lifts the bags and introduces you. You give a tiny wave as you stay by the door, “this is my Aunt May,” he explains as he sidles past her.
“Oh, honey, please come in,” she beckons you closer, “I’m just on my way out so you won’t need to worry about me.”
“Uh, alright,” you clasp your hand around your elbow as you shuffle forward.
“My, you’re so tall,” she remarks, “like a model.”
“Um,” your cheeks and ears burn, “not really.”
“Can I get you something before I go?”
“May, I got it,” Peter calls from an empty doorway, “stop trying to scare my friends away.”
“I’m not scary,” she giggles, “please make yourself at home.”
She smiles and flits through the door, “Pete, I’m gonna stay at Denise’s so you guy will have the house to yourselves. When I get back, I don’t want a mess.”
You hover just outside but quickly retreat. You wouldn’t want to eavesdrop. As you turn on your heel, you hear her lower her voice to a whisper, you only catch a single word, “cute…”
“May,” Peter groans loudly in response and you make an effort to block out their conversation. 
You stand at the bottom of the stairs, too anxious to explore further. You look around at the pictures on the wall; Peter and his aunt on all sorts of adventures, him with some sort of school award, and hand-painted welcome sign just inside the entryway.
“Anywho,” May trills as she appears again, “I’m on my way.” She steps into heeled boots and looks over at you, “it was really nice to meet you, honey.”
“Um, you too,” you murmur.
“Have lots of fun,” she says loud enough for Peter to hear.
“Mayyyyyy,” he drones.
“Fine, fine,” she cringes, “bye.”
She turns, snatching her purse up from the bench and scurries out the door. You stand in the silence left by her departure. You hear Peter in another room moving around. You clasp your hands together and bob on your heels.
“Hey,” he startles you, “come on.”
“Oh,” you turn and follow him as he waves you through the doorway. 
You pad through the front room and turn through another door into a kitchen. He has several bowls filled with chips. Your stomach growls at the sight and you press your palm to it, trying to quiet it.
“Hungry?” He chuckles as the rumble fills the lull.
“I’m good,” you insist.
“Sorry about May, she can be so embarrassing.”
“She’s nice,” you say.
“Yeah, she is,” he agrees reluctantly, “she just… likes to make a big deal.”
You nod and weave your fingers together then pull them apart, “can I help with anything?”
“Uh, sure,” he looks around, “we’ll be hanging out in the basement so you could bring some of these down,” he gestures to the chips.
“Sure,” you step closer to the counter.
“I’ll show you where,” he takes two bowls and you do the same, “I forgot to ask, what do you like to drink?”
He turns and leads you into the hallway off the kitchen, down to a door behind the ascending staircase. Beneath, is another set of steps that turn at a ninety degree angle. He lets you go first.
“Water is fine,” you say as you descend.
“Water? I mean… do you like beer or–”
“I don’t drink,” you say a bit too tersely. “Sorry, I… no, I don’t drink.”
“That’s cool,” he replies, “I got koolaid or soda.”
“Thanks, um, I just… I don’t like alcohol.”
“Yeah, fair, my friends are big drinkers, I’m not much into it.”
There’s a folding table set up against the wall. You put the chips there as he does the same, brushing close before he backs up. You look around at the furnished basement; there’s a sectional and two armchairs, gathered around a large screen television and a bunch of accessories. You feel small, a peculiar sensation for you.
“I’ll go grab everything else, why don’t you get settled in?” He suggests, “oh, and you’re welcome to dig into the snacks. You don’t have to wait.”
“Thanks, I’m good,” you smile and turn to pace around, reluctant to do anything more than look. You’d hate to make a mess of it.
“Right,” his voice is flat, almost disappointed, “I’ll be back.”
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moonstruckme · 10 hours
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https://www.tumblr.com/moonstruckme/742320236814041088/dude-we-know-that-peter-makes-his-own-suit-right?source=share
Well, gender neutral is fine by me. Actually, I just like to read your fic, so I have no problem with the gender part. As long it's you who write it. I'm 100% sure you'll rock it
Thank you sweetheart! Hope you like it :)
tasm!Peter Parker x gn!reader ♡ 733 words
Morning light is pouring in through the cracks in Peter’s blinds, laying itself out in slats over the floor and reaching for the opposite wall, when you stumble out of the bathroom. It’s a signifier of your ill fate. 
“Fuck, shit,” you mumble to yourself, putting a piece of bread in the toaster and grabbing your lunch from the fridge. You know you’ve half-assed fixing your hair and you’ve still got crust around your eyes, but appearances are no longer the priority. 
When Peter pads out of the bedroom, stretching his arms over his head with his plaid pajama bottoms just grazing the floor, you’ve got one shoe on and your toast clenched between your teeth like a bit. You think you probably look sleep-addled and half rabid, but his brown hair looks adorably mussed and the buttery morning light kisses his skin like it likes him best. He smiles at you, soft and lazy. 
“Late start again?”
Your response is muffled by the toast in your mouth. Peter carefully pinches it between two fingers and removes it so you can speak. 
“One more time?” 
“I said,” you huff, not at him but at your adrenaline-cursed fingers as they fumble your shoelaces, “that not all of us have cushy jobs with flexible hours.”
“Sorry.” He sounds like he half means it, crouching down beside you to thumb at your chin with his free hand. “Hold on, you’ve got toothpaste.”
You don’t know if it’s a ruse and you don’t really care, the soft warmth of his lips connecting with yours is plenty good enough for you. You tug the knot on your shoe tight as you pull away, taking your toast back from him. 
“You got your lunch?” Peter asks you, rising and going for the coffee machine. 
“Mhm,” you say through a bite. 
“Water?” 
You swallow, shouldering your bag. “Yup.” 
“Good, good.” He leans against the counter as the coffee machine rumbles to life, regarding you with still-sleepy eyes. “Actually, c’mere. I need another.” 
“I really have to go,” you laugh, but oblige him, darting over for another quick peck.
Peter does his best to draw it out, palming your face and kissing your bottom lip softly, but you drag yourself away. You try not to think too hard about the light scratch of his stubble against your chin as you grab your keys from by the door. 
“One more,” he begs. 
“You can have it later.” 
“Wait—hold on just a sec.” 
“No, I actually have to go.” 
You go for the door handle, but webbing attaches itself to your wrist, forcing your hand away. You look at your boyfriend, incredulous. 
“Pete! I’m seriously gonna be late.” 
“No, I know, I know.” He hustles toward you, taking your arm in his hand. “But your shirt’s messed up, baby.” 
“What?” You look down, and your sleeve is torn from your wrist to halfway up your forearm. “Shit.” 
“It’s all good,” Peter reassures you, peeling the sticky webbing off you before backing away towards your bedroom. “Just take it off.” 
You do, clumsy fingers nearly ripping out the buttons as you go. “I totally forgot, I snagged this on a door handle last week.” You’ve already taken your arm out of one sleeve when you freeze. “Peter? I don’t have any other work tops.” 
“Easy, I gotcha.” He comes back in with one of your other tops, the one you’d burnt a hole in the back of last week. “You can wear this, I just finished with it.” 
“Yes!” You grab it, pecking him on the lips euphorically. “Thank you!” 
“No sweat.” Your boyfriend sounds smug, but given the circumstances you think you can allow it. He picks up the other shirt from where you’ve dumped it on the floor. “I’ll fix this one while you’re at work today so you can have it for tomorrow, cool?” 
“That would be so cool,” you agree, hastily buttoning up the replacement top before shouldering your bag again. “Thanks, Pete. Are you sure you have time for that?” 
He shrugs, chucking the torn shirt onto the couch. “One of the perks of having a cushy job with flexible hours,” he says. 
You groan, and Peter laughs, catching your chin one more time before you get out the door. This time, you indulge him in a longer kiss. You’ll definitely be late, but you figure he’s earned it.
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shayyprasad · 9 hours
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intellectual | peter parker
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summary: you overhear something you weren't supposed to, but it shouldn't have been said in the first place. in result, you can't help but wonder if peter wants something different.
warnings: implied smut, mentions of sex, insecurity, use of y/n
pairing: bimbo!reader x frat!peter
word count: 3.0k+ words (my longest fic yet-)
a/n: in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.
M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME
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peter was totally smitten by you. really, he was. after all he's been through, it was kind of nice having someone who adores him as much as he does, even if you are... a tad bit dim-witted.
while he grew up surrounded by death, trauma, and more, you were raised sheltered, hidden away from all the bad things. and even though peter's been through some shit, he finds it to hold you so gently, like the pretty thing you are, as if you were stained glass; fragile, but so beautiful.
when he's holding you, all his soft, brown eyes can focus on are how your soft, manicured hands wrap around his rough, calloused ones. you're always careful not to hurt him with your acrylics.
even though you can be slow at times, it's almost impossible not to admire the way your clothes always hug your curves, glossed lips pulled into a pretty pout.
peter could have just about any girl he wanted on campus, but he didn't want any of them.
he wanted you, and only you.
maybe it's because you were different, and no, not in dim-witted nature. but because of how soft you were. you didn't know, and even if you did, understand the horrors he wittnessed out there everyday.
you were protected by a little (very pink) bubble that you lived in, so when he came home to you, it felt as if he was in a different world altogether. you were so damn good at distracting peter, and you didn't even know it.
you were in your own dorm room, watching a silly rom-com while peter was with his friends, he told you not to wait up for him, given that he would be up 'til the early hours of the morning. but you decided that peter and his goodnight kisses were slightly more important than your beauty sleep.
slightly.
you furrowed your neatly shaped eyebrows at something that one of the characters said, tilting your head.
ram-i-fic-a-tion? you thought, humming. pulling out your phone, you googled the word.
noun plural noun: ramifications
a consequence of an action or event, especially when complex or unwelcome. "any change is bound to have legal ramifications"
"legal ram-i-fic-a-tions?" you wondered aloud.
you skimmed the rest of the definitions, still confused. surely peter wouldn't mind if you gave him a quick ring? so you went ahead in did that, letting the sound echo in the room.
when he didn't pick up, you frowned.
"ummm..." you trailed off, calling one of his friends, spencer, instead. you weren't a stranger to him, but more of a mutual. after all, your roommate was dating him. actually, you'd ask alyssa, your roomie, but she wasn't here.
much to your happiness, spencer did pick up. "hiii, spence."
"y/n?" he said, slurring slightly.
"what does, like, ram-i-fic-a-tion mean?" you asked, careful to enunciate.
spencer was aware of... how your brain worked, and he wasn't a jerk about it (unlike some people). he was one of peter's closer friends, so you felt comfortable around him.
"ramification? oh, uh, it's like a consequence."
you frowned dumbly, "to what?"
"to an action. if you don't study for the final, you might not do well. that's a consequence to your action. a ramification."
"oh. oh! okay. thank you!"
he didn't disconnect right away, and you could hear one of his frat brothers, you were unsure who, talking. and of course, you strained your ears to listen.
"it doesn't get annoying or anything?"
you heard peter's voice come next, and instantly perked up. "what?"
"dude, be so for real. she's hot, but like, as dumb as a third grader. do you have to talk to her like that too?" he laughed.
oof, you thought, sucks to be whoever it was they were talking about.
"sometimes. she's good in bed, though."
wait. he was talking about you. your jaw dropped. i mean, you were stupid, but not this stupid. so this is what "saturday night with the boys" was all about?
you heard collective laughing. you did stupid things sometimes, but never had the mental compacity to be embarrased by them. this, though? this was different.
you trusted peter.
he was the only person who never, ever, spoke to or about you like that. in fact, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to like him so much. because he was patient, he was kind, and never did he once judge you.
well, that's what you thought.
but you were dumb enough to think that just because he never spoke about it to you, he never spoke about it all.
you immediately disconnected the call, dropping your phone. trying to focus back on the movie, you nibbled on a piece of popcorn.
but you just couldn't get over it. did it bother him?
all the questions? the dim-witted stupidity? all the pink?
reluctantly, you glanced the hot pink bowl that held your snack.
you didn't mean to be so... like that. you were just being yourself. did peter not like you being yourself? no, no, of course not. if he didn't, then why would he be with you?
a little voice in the back of your head rang out; "because you're good in bed."
maybe it wouldn't hurt to try and raise your iq?
you turned off the tv, hot pink popcorn bowl forgotten. alyssa wouldn't mind if you borrowed something, right?
you opened her room door, walking over to her bookself. wrinkling up your nose, you scanned her shelf. how could someone like reading so much?
it was so... gross.
oh, well. maybe peter was into intellectuals. and you had better become before he left you for someone like that.
your eyes paused at a book titled "the hobbit".
"what's a... hobbit?" you asked, not to anyone in particular. you skipped it, looking at her other ones.
"'twisted love', 'the fault in our stars'... what'd the stars do?" picking up the book, you read the back. "huh," you remarked, putting it back.
instead, you grabbed a couple self-help books, struggling to hold them with your acrylic nails, which, of course, were bright pink... accentuated with big charms; bows and hearts.
you went back over to your room, dumping them on your bed. checking your nails again, you drummed them against your palm to make sure they were intact.
you started reading the first one, curling up in a blanket, but you kept getting distracted. every five seconds, you look up to make sure your lashes were still in place, or that your skin wasn't to shiny, or that your hair was still perfect. and to be honest, you didn't really understand any of it.
like, who actually had the patience to read through all of it? how could a book cure all your crap?
and why would you read a book to feel better, when you could go to a spa, or a shopping spree.
credit cards were invented for a reason.
but you powered through, at the very least, you skimmed the words. there was no way you could read it word for word. but you wanted to try... for peter.
you wanted him to stick around, to love you, but not superficially. not for sex.
you stayed up until 1:30 (mostly reading, and you still didn't understand how people did this for fun), but didn't call peter. you'd talk to him tomorrow, maybe. first, you needed to get your facts straight. eventually, you got ready for bed.
this included showering, taking off your makeup, putting your hair in rollers, and your fifteen-step skincare routine.
you may have been half asleep, but you'd never skip a step.
peter came over around noon monday, when neither of you had classes. "jeez, babe," he groaned, you in his lap, "i've got so much to do. seriously, i'm never gonna get it done."
you twirled your hair, appearing nonchalant, "your mindset is either your best friend, or worst enemy."
you kept your eyes trained on your phone, waiting for peter to respond. looking up, you saw him blink. "uh... yeah. that was- that was very... un-y/n-like."
to be honest, you didn't even know what the saying meant. you just memorized it from your book. "was it dumb?"
"no, it was smart," peter replied, kissing your hairline.
"i'm normally dumb?" you asked, tearing up. lips pouted, voice moist, you made eye contact with him. you knew you were a little slow, but dumb? really?
"no! that's not what i meant. it just sounded- well, i- cause you never say stuff like that. you're my smart, pretty girl."
"oh, okay," you said, your nails tracing the curve of his back. you pecked him on the lips, but he brought you back for a longer kiss.
you giggled as he flipped your positions, peter on top.
"can i show you just how pretty you are?"
he didn't have to ask twice.
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you were in the dining hall, sitting with some of your friends, mixed with some of peter's.
they were talking as you picked at your salad, leaning into peter.
"ugh," sarah, you kind-of friend started, "my boss gave me a premotion."
"what the fuck are you complaining about?" alyssa scoffed.
"because! it means that i have to do more...! like, i'll have to get up earlier. i dunno if i'll take it. it's cooler than the one i have now, but but it's not as comforting."
you spoke up, completely confident, "commit to change. either embrace the challenge of pursuing your destiny or shy way and live in regret."
collective "oohs" and "damns" were heard around the table, and you reveled in it.
"okay, girl, you go."
"parker, when did your girlfriend get a braincell upgrade?" you looked at peter, waiting for him to shoot something back, but he didn't. you frowned slightly, going back to the salad.
it went on like that, you would pipe in and offer self-help advice (not really knowing what it meant) hoping for peter's attention. sometimes you got it, and sometimes you didn't.
it was fine, you wanted him to notice you. after all, you weren't reading for fun. you were doing it for him, so... just, like, notice already.
you'd been focusing so much on the self-help books, your nails had grown out, leaving space between your nail bed and acrylics. deciding to take some time away from the books and all their un-understandable wisdom, you wanted to paint your nails.
nothing to big, but more simple. you were finding it hard to turn the page with the large charms on the acrylics you normally had to.
you found some 100% acetone in your bathroom, so you soaked your nails, waiting for the acrylics to come off. once they got loose enough, they came off easily.
you did some prepping, then picked out two different shades of pink. you were about to start when you heard two long knocks, then two short ones.
(it was peter's special knock, so you'd always know when it was him.)
"come in!" you called out, and you saw a head of fluffy brown hair peek in.
"hey," he said, slipping in your room.
"hi, petey!"
he came up from behind you, hugging your waist. "whatcha doing?"
you opened a bottle of nail paint, "painting my nails."
"cute colors," he kissed your cheek, and you leaned in.
"right? pink is so pretty," you gushed.
"what are these?" peter asked, and you looked over curious as to what he was talking about.
"oh, just, like, lyss' books."
"yeah, but why're they in here?" he read the back of one, raising a brow.
you continued painting your nails, trying to appear chill. "i was reading them."
he seemed to do a double-take, and you frowned, "what?"
"nothing- nothing, i just..."
"i know how to read," you said, shoulders sagging. "i'm smarter than a third-grader," you didn't catch the slip-up, but he did.
that caught him off guard there, "what?"
"what?" looking up, you finally met his eyes.
"you said you- well, yeah, i know. you just don't-" he paused, "self-help books didn't seem like your thing is all. oh, is that why've you been saying all that?"
"saying what?"
"all the-" he didn't want to hurt your feelings, but if he was right, he already had. "the, um, advice?" he stammered. peter didn't trip over his words often, and you knew that.
you were sure that he knew that you knew, but you weren't sure if he knew for sure.
you shrugged, "doesn't it sound smart?"
"no, yeah, it does." he's treading very carefully. it was quiet for a brief moment; "did you hear?"
"hear what?"
"the... the comment i made?"
"oh, that one about me being stupid, but good in bed?" you said it so casually, as if it didn't bother you at all.
but it did. he knew it did.
he sighed, "i'm really sorry, baby."
"for what?"
"for saying that."
"no, you're sorry you got caught. you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."
"i didn't- i was drunk," peter tried again.
"drunk words are sober thoughts," something else you read, you aren't sure where.
he was starting to get really nervous. he didn't know what was going through your head, normally he had a good idea, but it wasn't anything like this. it didn't seem like you hated him, but he wasn't about to take advantage.
"no, i-"
"it's okay. i'm working on it," you said, trying to make him feel better. as if you were the one who'd messed up, not peter. the idea itself was insane to him, and it only made him feel worse.
"angel," peter started, "this is not your fault. please don't make it your fault. i'm the one who messed up, and what i said was not okay. it was a stupid, drunk joke, and i shouldn't said it."
you blew on your nails, blinking back your tears. mascara, the good stuff, was expensive. you looked up, shocked to see tears in his eyes. you don't think you've ever seen him cry before. well, maybe once, when you watched "titanic" with him.
peter wasn't one to get emotional, he still denied ever crying over that movie.
"it's okay," you repeated again. you were dumb, you knew that. it really wasn't his fault, you shouldn't have pushed him to feel like that.
"but it's not. and i know you know that, please tell me what i can do to make it better."
"but-"
"no, it's not," he said sternly, "and i cannot stress that enough. i'm really sorry, baby."
you capped the polish, you didn't know what to say. it wasn't your fault? okay, fine.
maybe he was right.
"i got really upset," you admitted.
"i know, baby," the tears are falling, he quickly wipes them away.
"did you really mean it?"
"no, no, no, of course not. i absolutely love you the way you are, and you shouldn't have to change yourself for anyone- especially not for me."
"so you don't think i'm only good for sex?"
"baby, no, baby, no!" baby, he used that word for affection; when he was guilty, trying to prove something to you... in this case, how sorry he was. "you are good for so many other things," he paused, "okay, that didn't sound great."
he took a deep breath, taking your freshly painted hands in yours, "don't mess up the polish," you warned, even though you were tearing up.
peter smiled slightly, that meant you weren't too upset, right? that he hadn't fucked everything up by great means?
"i haven't ever met someone like you, who loves me the same back. and i don't mean generally, but romantically. lots of people can't put up with me," he started, "but you do, and jesus, baby, i'm so greatful for that- and you," peter added.
"you are the bright pink light of my life. you're so different from other girls i've been with, you see me. you don't look at me, you see me. like, okay, maybe you aren't the greatest at math, but you don't have to be a s.t.e.m. genius to be smart."
peter was getting raw, he was getting vunerable. "i don't know how to use a curling iron for the life of me, i don't know the difference between mascara and eyeliner. well, i do, but i didn't before you."
you looked at him, opening your mouth to speak. you wanted to tell him he'd lost you somewhere along the line, but figured it was important for him to get this out.
"you've got a different mindset than me, and i love that. you're the biggest feminist i've ever met, and wait until you meet may. i think it's interesting that your entire personality doesn't revolve around your degrees and resumes, because, god, people like that are annoying. most of all, you're confidence is amazing. i never had anything like that in high school."
you knew that he was a nerd, kept his head down, shoulders sagging. "i just... i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it. i'm a huge insecure jerk that thinks he can get away with crap by projecting it onto his lovely, amazing, wonderful girlfriend. you're my favorite person, and i can't help but think you'll leave me one day. i thought that if i acted like i didn't care... i don't know. i- i don't... i'm sorry."
you took moment, that's the longest he's ever spoken to you, but he wasn't done, apparently.
"also, i don't care about sex. i mean, it's nice and whatever, but what's the point of it if i don't have you. what i'm trying to say is, i'd pick you over that any day, okay? it doesn't matter to me. i'm not with you for that."
"thank you," you said, it seemed appropriate. basically, he just compliented you a whole lot, and it worked; you seem to have a thing for praising. "and i forgive you. also, i hated those stupid books, and if they weren't, like, alyssa's, i'd burn them."
you shuddered, "i can't believe i read them."
"really?" peter asked, hopeful. you kissed away a stray tear, looking into his wet eyes. "we're okay?"
"we're so okay," you paused, "but you have to watch bridgerton with me."
he groaned, "fine." (you knew he liked it, he just wouldn't ever admit to it.)
"wait, so just checking, you aren't into, like, intellectuals or whatever?"
"i'm into you," he said, "whether not you idenify as one."
taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod
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astxroiid · 15 hours
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queen sized bed // mcu!peter parker
❥ one bed, motel after midnight, friends, young love, nsfw/18+, smut with a side of plot. dom!reader, mommy kink, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), cream pie.
wc: 2.7k (of pure filth + some fluff at the end)
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You huff, flopping down on the motel bed, still a little frustrated from dealing with the receptionist at the front desk.
He had definitely been more of an asshole than he needed to be. And considering you and Peter have just gotten off a rough mission, you definitely aren’t in the mood to deal with him.
Poor Peter ended up having to step in and diffuse the situation before you decked the concierge. You rub your face, trying to think less angering thoughts.
“I think I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, while you sit up and start rifling through your black duffel bag.
“Okay, just let me know when you’re in the shower. I wouldn’t want to turn around and catch you naked because of this stupid open floor plan.” yes you would. Peter laughs nervously.
“Sure thing,” you grab the last of your shower supplies and walk through the bathroom archway and begin to strip.
Peter tries his hardest to focus on unpacking his stuff but his ears keep returning to the sounds of items of your clothing hitting the ground. His mind following suit in wandering to you slowly undressing. Revealing more and more of your soft body.
“I’m in now, Pete,” you call, pulling him from the thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be having about his best friend and team member.
“Okay,” his voice cracks. Peter mentally face-palms.
He hears the water running and his mind slips back into his thoughts of you; the water cascading down your body, the way the soap will flow from your hair down your spine, or how the body wash would look after you ran it all over your—
Thud. “Shit!”
You dropped a bottle, bringing him back to reality.
Stop thinking about your friend like this, Peter. Be real with yourself, man.
゚+..。*゚+
You finish washing all the soap off your body and reach past the curtain, grabbing your towel and begin drying yourself. Attempting to get as much water off of your person as possible.
Once you’re dry, you wrap the towel around your body and step out of the shower.
You look up, eyes landing on Peter’s bare back.
He’s looking into the sink while brushing his teeth - wearing only his black sweats that you love so much.
Feeling a wanton throb between your legs and a small burst of confidence - you walk up to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.
Peter continues bushing his teeth while he moves his free hand down to yours, lightly rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
You both smile.
It’s clear Peter doesn’t understand the energy you’re trying to set. So, you help him get there a little faster.
You glide the hand he’s not holding down his chest. Using just your middle finger to make a path to the waistband of his sweatpants.
Your finger trails from side to side, following the line of his pants seam, lightly brushing over the small patch of hair that disappears beyond his sweats.
You can feel his breathing faltering and hear his heart pounding in his chest. Though; you’re not sure if that’s due to your ear being pressed to his back or the fact that his heart is just beating that loud.
You let your finger dip just beneath his waistband, loving the way his breath hitches in response.
You keep moving your finger back and forth, teasing the poor boy.
Feeling satisfied with how flustered he is - you back away and Peter tries his best to focus back on brushing his teeth.
“Pete?” You call softly.
He glances up, looking at you through the mirror right as you let your towel drop to the floor. Peter flips his head around to look at you - unobscured by the foggy bathroom mirror.
He lets out a breath, letting his eyes rake over your entire body.
“Well? Are you just gonna stand there and gawk or are you going to come over here and touch me, Parker?” You tease.
“Right,” Peter shakes his head, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth and quickly moving to you. He stands tentatively in front of you, unsure of what to do first. He looks down at you questioningly.
You giggle and grab his wrists. “Have you ever done this before?” The question is genuine.
Peter’s face goes red. “Uhm... no," his response barely audible. He tilts his head down in shame.
You smile while you move his hands to your breasts. “That’s okay. Let me teach you.”
His hands gently caress your chest and you let out a soft noise that makes Peter’s knees go weak.
“Please?” He begs, feeling a pull on his groin as you arch your back into him. He massages your breasts, attempting to - and succeeding in getting more noises from you.
He slowly slides his unoccupied hand between your thighs, rubbing between the folds, finding your clit with such ease you have to wonder if he lied about his inexperience.
Any coherent thoughts you had left the moment he pressed his finger into you and started rubbing at an amazing and yet still agonizingly slow pace.
You glide your hands up his arms and to his face. Bringing it down to yours. You kiss him softly, moving your mouth in an easy rhythm for Peter to follow along with.
Peter moves his middle finger to your entrance and pauses for your permission. You grind yourself against his hand, hoping that’s enough of a yes.
He takes it and slides his fingers in with ease, surprised at how wet you already are.
“Fuck, y/n,” he moans into your mouth. His sweats tighten as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of you, lewd noises already making their way out of your mouth.
He’s lost in the feeling of you. It’s all he’s ever wanted and more. Just you and him. Melding together in such a beautiful way.
The hand on your breast moves to your hip where he rubs his thumb over the bone lovingly.
You move one of your hands to the side of his throat as you start to kiss his neck, leaving marks everywhere while grinding your hips back and fourth on his hand.
Pete’s breath leaves him almost completely, knowing anyone could see what you’ve done to him turns him on more than he thinks you could know.
You pull away abruptly. Peter feels as though he's missing a piece of himself as he watches you walk away.
You're at the bed, beckoning Peter over with a finger.
He wastes no time. Quickly walking to you and smashing his lips into yours.
Your hand trails down Peter’s chest and beneath his sweatpants. You massage him through his boxers and he groans into your mouth.
If he hadn’t already told you, it would have been an easy guess that he’s only ever touched himself.
“You’re so responsive,” you tell him as you part from his kiss to catch your breath. “I love it.”
Your hand moves out of his pants to his hair, tugging lightly on the soft brown locks. He groans again.
You smile.
“Lay down on the bed for me?” you ask softly.
He nods his head, eager to oblige any command you give to him.
He spreads out on the bed, propping his head on the pillows and making sure to get exactly how he thinks you want him.
“Good boy.”
Peter can’t explain the pride that swells in his chest at the praise. All he knows is that he’ll do anything to get you to say it again.
You crawl on top of him, straddling his waist as you lean in to kiss his neck again. Peter’s hands grip at the sheets as he attempts to hold himself back.
You move your mouth down to his collar bone, sucking on sensitive spots. You feel peter writhe and moan beneath you
You slowly move down his chest, taking your time the lower you get.
You smile up at him and pull on the elastic with your teeth, releasing it and letting the material pop back down on his skin. You tease him more by lightly trailing your finger around his lower stomach.
Peter makes a strangled noise. “Y/N... please,” he begs breathlessly.
“Please, what, Pete?”
“T-touch me. Please. I don’t think I can take it anymore,” he’s on the verge of whining.
“Since you asked so nicely...”
You pull his sweats down at an agonizingly slow pace, then doing the same with his boxers.Savoring every inch of new skin being revealed to you.
Once Peter’s dick is free, it springs up and lays flat on his stomach.
You feel heat rush to your core, along with a familiar wetness.
You bite your lip and take it in your hand, rubbing your thumb over the head.
Peter’s own head falls back against the pillow as his hips and legs shake.
“I’ve barely touched you, baby,” you note and peter could probably cum just from the sultry tone in your voice.
He whines and grips the sheets.
You use his eyes squeezed shut to your advantage and surprise him with your tongue licking up his cock.
Peter gasps and looks down at you. You smile back as you take him in your mouth, moving your lips all the way down to the hilt.
The noise that comes from the man beneath you is divinity. You to moan around him. His legs shake and he can’t help but thrust into your mouth.
You gag, which only causes him more pleasure and a small mmph noise makes it’s way out of him.
He grabs a light fist full of your hair, pulling you away from his cock.
"y/n, if you keep going I'll finish now," he's out of breath, sweat starting to form on his chest.
"That's the plan," the deep tone and tantalizing wink you give him as go go back down have chills running all across his body.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Peter's while lower half convulses and you wrap you mouth back around him, grabbing a handful of his balls.
You wrap your free hand around the base of his cock. "You wanna cum peter?" You slowly pump his cock.
"'Wanna cum inside you... please," he struggles.
"Oh, baby. There's plenty of time for that," Peter feels like his heart is gonna explode from the leisurely pace you're stroking him at. "I'm asking you if you want to cum in my mouth."
He throws his head back and says through gritted teeth; "Fuck... yes, god, please..."
"Yes, what?" You prompt.
Peter's mind swirls with every possible word he could respond with in a matter of milliseconds. And, without thinking, he mistakenly says the one he's only thought about in his most intimate fantasies.
"Yes... mommy."
Fuck.
Peter looks down to see you smiling at him with mischievous grin.
"Mommy?"
His blood runs cold. Fear holing him still.
"I could get used to that," you wrap your mouth around Peter's balls, sucking hard as you go back to pumping his cock. Languid movements driving peter crazy as his mind swirls.
"Uh, fuck. Oh my-- shit, y/n..." he's loud, almost enough to make you worry about any residents in neighboring rooms.
You take your time, moving from sucking his balls to his cock, using any movement necessary to make him feel good. Completely focusing on pleasing the man beneath you. And you're doing an amazing job, you can tell by the noises. The occasional curse word surrounded by your name, blasphemous words, and a lot of whimpering.
He's close. The way his knuckles turn white as he grips the bed sheets. His thighs tightening, muscles flexing. His lips are pressed together and his whole body is stiff.
You bring your mouth down on his dick, taking all of him and squeezing his balls up to his shaft. You bring your pace up as fast as you can, relentless.
"H-holy, oh fuck- y/n."
Warm ropes of cum shoot down your throat, coating your esophagus in him. You swallow it all, continuing to suck at him until his whole body is shaking violently.
You pull off him with a pop, smiling like the devil.
Peter's out of breath, looking like a shell of a man and yet, so fucking hot. He's covered in sweat, chest, face, and thighs glistening. His cheeks are a rosy red you haven't seen from him before. His chest is heaving for air.
You kiss him so hard it steals any oxygen he might have gotten straight out of him. He grabs the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling you harder into him.
He's the one to break the kiss, still attempting to breathe. "You're amazing."
You smile. "C'mere," you lay on your back, pulling him on top of you. He props an arm on either side of your head, leaning down to kiss you as you place your arms around his neck.
You wrap your legs around Peter's waist, rubbing your soaked core against his cock. He whines for you in return.
His legs shake at the sensation, due to his sensitivity and a near-feral need for you. You pull away from the kiss, biting your lip.
"Peter," you breathe, almost a moan. "I want you inside me."
Words Peter Parker never believed he'd hear except when dreaming. He feels his cock start to harden again.
You feel it as well. Taking it as a sign to keep on.
"Peter... please," you pull his ear next to your mouth and whisper low; "i wanna feel your cock inside me."
He shudders, fully erect by now. Peter quickly grabs his dick, lining himself up with your entrance, waiting on your consent. He looks at you, the question in his eyes.
"Yes, peter. Fuck me," he needs no more reassurance. He slowly pushes into you, both yours and Peter's legs shaking from the pleasure.
"Ffffuck-" you interrupt yourself with a moan. One that makes Pete's brain go foggy, the only thought being fucking you.
He grabs your hips, expertly sliding himself in and out of you at a pace near divinity. Your mind is wiped of any coherent thought that could've ever been there except for the question of how he is do good at this.
"Fuck, shit. 'So tight." Peter rests his head on your shoulder as he fucks harder into you.
It's beautiful, in the most obscene way. The way your warm bodies are practically glued together, moving in a rhythm only your souls know. The noises flowing from your lips already have Peter rocking on the edge of release, and the groans from him are doing the same to you.
You place your fingernails at the tops of Peter's shoulders, dragging them down his back then around his ribs.
He takes in a breath, shuddering. "Fuck, fuck, y/n. I'm close. So close..."
"Cum inside me, Peter. Please," your walls clench hard around him and the sounds of his whines.
The feeling of your warmth wrapped around his cock, mixed with your sounds are the purest form of ecstasy for Peter.
He reaches between your bodies, pressing his fingers against your clit and circling fast.
"Oh fuck, oh my god," you moan loud, your whole body tensing as you cum harder than you ever have in your life around Peter's cock.
You look down, seeing you've squirted all over his lower half. Fuck. There's no time to think about it because Peter is following behind you.
He grabs your hips tighter, pulling your body as close to his as possible. Peter cums deep inside you, filling you with hot, thick ropes of his seed.
The way he looks in this millisecond of a moment will forever stay in your brain. Toned abs covered in sweat and glistening. Chocolate curls a mess, falling in his face. Face towards the sky, screwed up from a pleasure he's never felt before.
The way the light falls around his face illuminates him beautifully. Angelically even.
Peter pulls out of you slowly, both of you too sensitive. He walks to the bathroom, bringing back a damp rag.
"Here," he gently helps clean you up. Afterwards he cleans himself, tossing the rag and putting a new pair of boxers on. He hands you one of his shirts.
"Thank you," you pull the shirt over your head, feeling incredibly loved by Peter. Which prompts you to say; "Peter, I love you."
He smiles and looks so giddy he might float away. He crawls into bed, cuddling up to you. "I love you, too."
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This one's been in the works for a while but holy shit, even I'm all hot and bothered from this lmao.
Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated! Thank y'all for reading!
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Note
request!!: peter parker who has a huge crush on reader and one day r just accidently friendzones themself without even realising that they did? (i hope that makes sense?) then after that u can take it anywhere u want to honestly!! ly <333
ily anon, you answered my pleas. also you know that tt prank where couples kiss and then say “thanks brother” or “love you sis”… couldn’t help but add it for some comedy.
mcu!peter parker x fem!reader
masterlist
you need to learn when to shut your mouth. tripping your foot into your mouth has gotten you into too many situations before, but this one is absolutely the worst one. you might as well be taken to the grave already.
your just a girl. sometimes you say your crush is “like a brother to you” when getting hounded by mr. delmar. it’s a panic move, mouth speaking before mind catches up. and it landed you in the dog house when you saw the way peter’s face dropped at the implication. but you thought he was smart enough to know that wasn’t true, you were touchy and teasing with him. you wouldn’t do that with a sibling, you’re not one of those people.
“mj, i’m a fucking idiot.” groaning into your pillow, trying to suffocate yourself.
she gave an exasperated sigh that you knew was followed by an eye roll. “yes you are, but you don’t need parker.” you heard the flip of a page.
you whined in your throat, “but i want parker!” acting like a tantrum kid. even adding a kick to your feet, your bed springs creaking.
mj groaned, “then clear the air! it’s not that hard!” over your peter parker drama.
you rolled from your stomach to your back, arms flipping to your sides as you stared up at your white ceiling. “but what if-“ your sentence was cut short by a knock at your window.
“say his name and he appears.”
peeking at the tips of your toes you saw peter squatting on your terrace, a hesitant smile with an awkward wave. welp, now’s a good time to clear the air.
crawling off your bed you pushed the window up and were greeted by a cool breeze. bits of peter’s baby curls swaying with the touch, a angelic glow surrounding him. you feel yourself melt just at the sight of him.
“h- hey peter, whatcha-“ “can we talk? alone?”
your eyes zeroed in on mj who was blantanly staring at the two of you, book of no interest at the moment. “oh, i’m fine over here.”
“mj…” “fine. fine. i’ll see you both at school.” packing up and leaving your home with a wiggle of her brows.
“so what did-“ “do you really think of my as a brother?”
you couldn’t help a small chuckle, “kinda funny how you’ve interrupted me three times, but uh, no. i- i don’t see you as a brother, that thought feels gross. mr. delmar was making me anxious.” looking to your fingers as you drummed them along your windowsill.
“oh thank god.” peter declared while cupping his hands on your cheeks to bring your head up. both of you smiling brightly at each other
two months later
“so what do i do?” “just sit there and look pretty.”
a shy smile at peter’s lovely words. he finished setting up his camera and pressed record, you just stared at his side profile.
“you wanna get to her, well you gotta go through me.” and peter turned to kiss you on the lips. a shiny haze covered your eyes then- “love you sis.”
“peter!”
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aphrcdites · 7 months
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the bond between a girl and their favorite fictional man is both an unstoppable force and an immovable object
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l0caltiredgirl · 10 months
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me @ y/n when they do something i’d never do:
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like babe this isn’t us ?? get it together
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kurogxrix · 4 months
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me when the READER in the X READER has a name:
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like babe the fic ate but i do NOT look like an Aurora🙁
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moonxnite · 3 months
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y’all ever fantasize about a fictional character a little too hard to the point you’re convinced you should be admitted to a mental hospital?
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thatboisus · 2 months
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he wants me so bad (he’s fictional and i read a fanfic about him)
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holy-minseok · 5 months
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We need mean!reader, angry!reader, misunderstood!reader, creepy!reader, gross!reader, toxic!reader, nonforgiving!reader, selfish!reader, narcissistic!reader, dark!reader, FEDUP!reader. That bitch is way too nice, passive, and sensible. ✋🏾😂
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aphrcdites · 10 months
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“not all men”
you’re right, my favorite fictional character would never.
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l0caltiredgirl · 2 months
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when i want fluff/angst fics and all i’m getting is smut
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the struggle is real
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shawnxstyles · 1 year
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panty stealer
DATE: JANUARY 14, 2023
summary: flash forces peter to sneak into the girls sorority and steal a pair of panties as a dare. stumbling into the nearest room to save himself from being caught, he doesn’t expect you to be there, and to let him steal the panties you’re wearing.
request: yes!
words: 5.1k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [fingering, oral], praise kink, slight dacryphilia kink, dirty talk, and protected sex), language, alcohol, mentions of weed, and a bit of fluff.
note: frat!peter x sorority!reader / peter masterlist / PART 2
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“are you serious right now, flash?” peter groans with a pinch to his nose. his eyes screw shut in annoyance at flash’s obnoxious behavior.
“of course i am, penis parker!” flash shouts, shoving peter towards the large, white sorority house. “you have to do the dare or else.”
peter groans again, hating himself for ever agreeing to do this stupid game with flash.
the night had started calm and for once, peter was grateful. friday nights were the craziest day at the frat house, but this week, everyone was a bit too busy with schoolwork. except flash apparently.
like all of his other roomies, peter loves a good party. he doesn’t mind thrashing his house every week if that means he can have fantastic parties at his place (okay, maybe he minds a little bit. it gets tedious cleaning up garbage after a while). he knows he won’t be young forever, so what the heck, right?
people never would have guessed that peter was the leader of the frat. shocking, right? everyone would assume it’s flash for his obnoxious and party boy persona or brad for his attractiveness and charm. but what do those qualities have to do with being a leader? everyone else (besides those two) agreed that peter should be the head of the house because he is responsible and smart, unlike those boneheads.
peter often asked himself if he was attractive and if he had charm.
he did, right?
brad was good with the ladies. one glance and a wink made the girls melt into puddles at his feet. every morning when peter woke up early to go to class, a different woman would waltz down the stairs with a glowing, uncontrollable smile in nothing but a t-shirt. peter knew without a doubt that every one-night stand that stumbled down was brad’s; it was rarely flash or the others and ned had a girlfriend who was in the sorority across from us.
peter hooked-up once in a while. he found it more difficult to be like brad when he had college to concentrate on and lives to save inbetween it all. being spider-man in high school was overwhelming at first because it was impossibly hard to hide it. but now, having more freedom in college made everything a bit simpler. just a bit.
flash being spider-man’s “#1 fan!” still made him chuckle every time it came up.
speaking of flash, when peter stumbled through the door in the evening expecting a chill friday night, flash just had to crank up the energy. as per usual.
“what is this?” multiple bottles of liquor were splurged across the dining table when peter walked into the kitchen. flash crossed his arms with a huge smirk plastered onto his face, while ned looked concerned and stressed.
“i tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen to me,” ned shook his head in disappointment before walking away to his room.
“we’re having a party. it’s friday, penis,” flash said with an obvious tone. peter could easily have him removed from the frat, being the leader and all. yet he still keeps him here. why must he do this to himself?
“flash, i said no parties today. everyone is tired and stressed, and has a lot of work to do—”
“stressed? i think that’s the best reason for a party. you need to get laid, my brotha,” brad interrupted with an arm around peter’s shoulders and a firm pat to his buff chest. brad is way taller than peter, which some might think intimidates him. but peter is mainly intimidated by intelligence, and brad had the iq of a stick.
peter rolled his eyes at the predictable statement. flash rambles on about how parties are a tradition on friday nights and peter sharply cuts him off with a strict tone.
“ugh, fine! no party, party-pooper parker. but we will be drinking tonight. or else i’m sending an invite to 50 people.”
peter had no choice but to comply. flash, ned, brad, himself, and the other boys are seated on the furniture with the drinks displaced in the center. flash gave peter an ultimatum; play truth or dare or he rings the entire sports program of a party. peter growled and folded.
soon later, there is a sharpie drawing on flash’s ass, a ruler that measured brad’s dick, a flushed ned from downing too many denied truth shots, and laughter bubbling throughout the whole room. peter is the only one who hasn’t gotten asked anything yet and he honestly feels a bit left out. but he also just wants to do his homework and then go to sleep.
“what’ll be, penis parker?” flash inquires with a mischievous look on his face. “truth or dare? or should i say drink or dare?”
peter, not caring at the time, chose dare. “dare.”
“oh, you’re so in for it.”
so in all, peter was basically held against his own will to sneak into the girl’s sorority house. even though he denied the dare profusely and took three shots to make up for it, flash still dangled the party invites over his head like an iron weight waiting to drop.
peter snarled as flash nudged him again impatiently. he thought of an idea that might work. peter would have to do this dare, but would he have to do it alone?
“if you come with me, i’ll give you $50 bucks—” peter sells with raised eyebrows. he licks his lips as the cold breeze rustles the trees and sends slight shivers up his arms. the sky is pitch-black as the heavy clouds cover all the stars. peter felt a storm brewing and he really didn’t want to sneak into the sorority soaking wet.
“pfft, parker, please. i have enough money—”
“—in weed.” peter finishes, causing flash to halt his words. peter knows that flash can never find a good supply because he complains about it all the time. marijuana wasn’t legal on campus, let alone in the state. the trade had the cogs turning in flash’s head.
“alright, deal,” flash gives in and elbows peter as a form of agreement. then flash motivates brad and ned to join, heading straight for the zone as a group.
their goal was to grab a pair of underwear and leave without being caught. as spider-man, that should be easy, right?
for some odd reason, the back door was unlocked. you’d think girls would be more secure and observant than guys, but maybe they forgot. after hopping over the trimmed gardening hedges, the four boys crept through the door and into the kitchen.
unlike peter’s frat, the sorority girls had two big rules that they made known to everyone; no hook-ups allowed and no frat guys. ever. the girls didn’t throw parties like peter, they only went to them, so their place was like a holy sanctuary.
when the guys tiptoed into the kitchen, peter wasn’t surprised the place was damn-near spotless. most of the interior was pearly white; couches, love-seats, tables, counter, cabinets— it was like walking into an insane asylum with minor color accents.
it was at least midnight by now, so the girls had to be asleep. tiptoeing as silent as possible up the stairs, peter leads until they’re all standing in the middle of the large hallway with rapid, contained breaths. flash, being the scaredy-cat he is, follows last and nervously trips over the final step. he slips, tumbling down multiple levels with nosy thuds and bangs of his elbows and knees. all of the guys sprout wide eyes and strained, silent gestures to warn him to stop falling and making an absurd amount of noise.
peter gets goosebumps, hair rising on his skin as he gets a shiver down his spine. his hearing intensifies, picking up mumbled whispers and light footsteps with his spider sense. his eyes wander frantically as he scatters his brain for an idea. nothing comes to mind fast enough, as a door down the hall creaks open. brad and ned drag flash up the stairs, but freeze when they hear the door. out of instinct, peter sprints to the nearest door, slyly slipping inside. he closes the door gently, contradicting the pounding of his heart, without a noise being made. he releases a sigh as his forehead rests on the doorframe.
“what are you doing?” peter nearly shrieks when you casually question him. he stares at you, eyes impossibly wider than before. your arms are crossed as you sit on the side of your bed. peter swallows harshly, gazing at your appearance.
your legs look smooth and supple, and very much bare. he assumes you have underwear on under the t-shirt you’re sporting, and is proved correct when you shift to dangle your legs off the bed. his eyes are drawn to the small sight of your panties that tease underneath your shirt. you smirk, arms still crossed as you let him check you out.
“i-um-uh,” cheeks wildly red, he swallows and averts his eyes to the ground. how does he explain such a stupid thing without sounding like a jackass? i was dared to invade the sorority house. sorry. oh, also, can i have your panties? “it was a dare.”
“to sneak into my room?” your head tilts as you lift yourself off the bed and stalk towards him. peter’s cheeks grow redder while his heart pounds brutally in his chest.
besides the embarrassment flowing like blood through his veins, you were the simple kind of gorgeous that made his knees weak. the kind that is stunning in their own skin and that radiates beautiful energy like magical fairy dust. and peter nearly fainted when he saw your lack of clothes.
he’s seen you many times before; you share a class with him and came to some of his parties. he never talked to you in fear of rejection, but now he doesn’t really have a choice.
usually, he has more confidence with girls, but this is a very unfortunate situation where he lost every skill he’s ever known. even talking.
“no—” ear-piercing screams interrupt peter’s stuttering from the other side of the door. footsteps run all over the wooden floor as low profanities leave the guys’ mouths. “i think she found them.”
“you think?” you clip with raised eyebrows. peter inhales, losing some of his anxiousness at his thoughts of the boys being caught.
poor ned. betty’s going to kill him.
flash deserved it, though.
brad is probably getting one of their numbers.
peter shakes his head and sets his thoughts straight.
“okay, look. flash dared me to do this… stupid thing and i convinced them all to do it with me. i wanted to do nothing but relax tonight,” peter admits with a stressed exhale. you glare at him with squinted eyes, trying to decipher what has him so worked up. it’s not like he got screamed at and kicked out like the other guys. knowing some of your roomies, they might be a lot worse than just kicking them out. you get closer to him and ponder what he said.
“what was the dare, parker?” you shoot a harsh glare at him, daggers that force him to answer. your head tilts with curiosity as your heartbeats sporadically. you’ve never had a guy in your room before, and for that first guy to be peter parker has your heart bouncing around your chest like a boomerang. you’ve had your eye on peter for a few months now; not crazy obsessive, but you won’t deny the blood-rushing crush you’ve grown for the frat boy.
how did you stumble that low? a frat boy? jeez.
peter can’t be too shocked that you know his name, let alone his last name, but you saying it still causes him to forget some of the words on his tongue. many shouts are heard from outside the door, but your chests are nearly touching as you gaze up at him and then the outside world is practically silenced.
“i had to steal some… panties,” he mumbles, voice low and quiet. why does it sound so dirty?
“panties?” you repeat in a hushed voice as your surprised eyes blink a few times. you swallow, clit beginning to throb at the word out of his mouth.
“yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “do you have any that i can…borrow?”
your mind hazes at his question. you tried to remember where your underwear was and if it was clean. but as a clear opportunity lies in front of you, you decide to run with it. you look down with a racing heart, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt.
“i…i have these ones,” you lightly ball up your t-shirt, revealing your laced panties to peter. he quietly coughs, cock starting to harden behind the zipper of his jeans. you glance up at his reddening expression through your eyelashes, devilish eyes hiding behind an innocent facade. confidence and lust ease your anxiety. “will these work?”
“um, yeah,” peter coughs again as rosy embarrassment crawls up his neck and blood rushes to his cock. you strut over to the mattress, rocking your hips teasingly, and peter instinctively follows with his heart in his throat. you lie on your back and spread your legs, arousal dripping from you at every movement. peter watches from a side angle, holding his breath as the tension rises.
“well, you’re not much of a panty-stealer if i just give them to you. come and steal them, parker,” you say with as much confidence as you could muster up. your heart was so loud in your ears you almost couldn’t hear yourself. speechless, peter walks to the front of the bed and kneels down, eye-level with your pussy.
he crumples the shirt over your hips, your legs automatically spreading wider. his senses heighten and pick up on the scent of your arousal. a small patch of it can be seen in the middle of your underwear, sending painful pulses down to his forever hardening cock. his thumbs dance around the laced hem, teasing you to see how much he can go.
he would say some of his confidence is back now.
he hooks his fingers under the band, sliding the flimsy fabric down while sticky arousal slings to you. he stuffs the damp material in his back pocket. both of your hearts rack and hands tremble at the extreme intensity, waiting for someone to do something. anything.
peter decides to be that person and resumes his fingers to your hips where the hem used to be. your folds glisten with pent-up arousal, just begging for him to touch you. your puffy clit throbs, neglected, and your thighs subtly spasm trying to remain open. peter grinds on his molars, nearly moaning at the glorious sight. his rough pads trace your smooth skin as he drags lower, dangerously close to where you’re yearning for him.
“peter,” you whisper, holding your breath, so you don’t move a muscle, even though they’re involuntarily shaking with need. he hums, the dirtiest thoughts flowing through his mind. “d-don’t you have to go? what if you get caught?”
“i can spare a few minutes…” his gaze is hazy and distracted, voice gravelly with lust. you clench desperately around nothing as you quietly plead for him to do something. his thumb tests the waters and finally begins circling on your clit, sending electricity up your body. you yelp at the sudden pressure, naturally grinding your hips for more friction. “hmm? don’t you want me to spend a few minutes with you?
his words are taunting and condescending, making your mind go blurry while the words disintegrate from your tongue. the rough pad of his thumb rubs faster while you clench around nothing again, chest heaving.
“i want more than a few minutes,” you moan as his middle finger pets along your soaking slit, teasing you painfully until your eyes roll back. you can sense the smirk growing on his face based on the satisfied hum he responds with.
“more? greedy girl,” peter slides his middle finger into you without warning causing you to release a long string of moans. “shh, you don’t want them to hear you, do you? then we’ll both get caught.”
you shake your head.
“then be a good girl and be quiet for me,” peter demands softly. you nod shakily, as another finger pumps into you rapidly. he thrusts brutally into you, fingertips brushing over your g-spot. you melt as bliss laces throughout your body.
“it’s always the quiet ones who are the loudest,” a devilish and dirty smirk dances on his lips while your teeth sink painfully into your bottom lip. you slap your palm over your mouth to remain quiet as thrilled moans threaten to pour out of you. your revolving hips are halted by his strong forearm, allowing him to curl his digits deliciously into you. you mewl with screwed eyes, back arching at the immense pleasure.
“i’m so close, peter,” you whisper, scared that if you speak any louder your moans will betray you and alert the whole neighborhood. peter subtly grinds his hips into the front of the mattress, cock dangerously hard from your whimpering and whining.
“can i taste you? been dying to since you opened your legs for me,” peter asks while your thighs tremble and your pussy contracts tightly around his digits. you mumble out a shuddery please before his mouth is devouring you.
he never removes his fingers, pumping ruthlessly while his mouth explores your slippery folds. he sucks harshly on your throbbing clit, a muffled wail escaping through your hand. warm and soothing, his tongue glides curiously and sneaks into your undeniably soft cunt. the moan you release is unholy and way too loud. at least right now.
peter wants nothing more than to hear your sweet, sweet moans crying his name while he makes you come in several different ways. but tonight was not the night. he wasn’t trying to get reported and have intruder as a new notch on his belt.
he had a good feeling you wouldn’t run off and report him though.
the idea of it all got him off much more than he would have ever thought. and looking at you, he could say that same.
his mouth plops off of you, lips swollen and puffy from sucking.
“come all over my tongue. let me taste you, sweet girl,” his tone is euphonious and seductive, yet demanding. his fingers savagely thrust into your seeping hole that clenches tightly around him. your back arches off the mattress as your thighs shake from the upcoming euphoria.
peter’s words send your body into overdrive. your muscles contract and your stomach tightens as your orgasm ripples through your body like a heavenly wave. cum oozes out of you and onto his tongue, slurping up every ounce of your juices until there is nothing left.
“such a good girl,” peter praises while he licks away your arousal from his rosy lips. heat crawls up your neck at your sudden vulnerability. you attempt to close your legs to hide, but he keeps them spread with his rough hands. “you’re going to hide yourself after i just ate you out? we’re just getting started, baby.”
peter pulls his shirt off deliberately, showcasing his bulky abs and muscles that made your clit pulse with desire again. he looks like he was man-made, a real-life sculpture with chiseled muscles and perfectly ridged abs. you were insatiable to this man, who snuck into your room to steal something— you should be mad at him. furious. but when his boxers fall down his legs, only dirty and needy emotions and thoughts are left.
your eyes widen at his impressive length; you’ve only been with a few guys in the past, but none of them were this big. you were scared, yet excited to feel his cock stretch you out sinfully. you imagined how long you would feel him inside of you afterwards, soreness like a good workout at the gym.
“you’re so big,” you mumble, not hiding the fact that you were blatantly eyeing his raging cock with hunger, fear, and lust.
“it’ll fit. don’t worry, doll,” he hovers over you, smoothing your hair away from your worried eyes. “do you have a condom?”
you stretch out your arm into your night stand, blindly grabbing a tin-foiled package. you seductively rip it with your teeth, causing peter to groan in impatience. he snatches it away from you and swiftly slides it onto his sturdy cock.
“such a fucking tease,” he hisses, running the tip of his cock along your folds, which were already soaked in arousal again. “are you ready?”
you nod your head surely, more than ready for him to fill you up.
“you’re one to talk,” you sass, rolling your eyes, which were no longer as worried, but full of needy anticipation. he huffs out a single chuckle, eyes strained on his dick rubbing around your wetness tediously.
“speaking of talking, don’t,” peter thrusts into you savagely, making you gasp and shriek. your hand immediately goes to his shoulder for leverage, nails digging desperately into the meat of his skin. the other tightens securely onto your mouth to keep quiet, even though it’s probably useless now.
hoarse profanities fall from his lips as he shifts around your snug hole. your velvety walls choke his cock so fucking good, he doesn’t think he’ll last any longer. and then you clench even tighter around him, sending peter’s eyes rolling back into brain.
“you’re so fucking tight,” peter groans in your ear, flicking his hips upwards into you. your body trembles in overwhelming pleasure, muffled whines begging to be released.
slapping skin and hushed moans fill the air. peter fits a hand between the two of you and rubs your throbbing clit perfectly. his lips travel down from your ear to your neck, kissing along your skin. his tongue discovers your soft spot, sucking harshly until you’re clutching onto him for dear life.
“you’re so good, peter. so deep, too, oh god,” you can’t help the lusty wail that tumbles from your raspy throat when he rapidly rolls his hips, repeatedly touching your sensitive g-spot. he growls at the praise, every action being intensified by the comment. you notice this and smile with a hint of devilishness behind it.
“you may be smiling now,” peter pants, muscles popping and flexing from the position. “but you’ll be crying soon.”
if possible, his thrusts got harder. and deeper. and faster. he was pounding into your cunt like there was no tomorrow, buckets of arousal leaking from you and all around him. peter would pull his cock fully out just to slam it back in, and it made you wither away into another dimension. his balls beat against you harshly with every brisk thrust of his body. his skilled thumb pets your clit, electrifying all your nerves into blissful flames.
there was so much to feel; the biting of his kisses on your neck, the rough texture of his thumb pad on your clit, the long, thick length plunging barbarically into you, and the heaviness of his weight above you. you were so overwhelmed by the pleasure, water brimmed at your tear ducts. soon, full-blown tears are streaming down your face from the euphoria running through your veins.
that familiar wicked smile curls on peter’s face with your appearance; wild hair, tear-stained cheeks, and swollen lips. he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked so beautiful in front of him.
his cock twitches when you whimper loudly underneath the palm of your hand, begging to let you come. contracting on his shaft, your nails stab his shoulder blade until crescent moon marks appear. a strangled moan leaves him when your body rolls up towards him, back arching harshly.
“need to come. so bad, peter,” you whine. his name from your lips drives him mental.
“fuck, y/n,” he sighs heavily. “come around my cock like the good girl you are.”
with those words, your second orgasm tumbles through your body like a thunderstorm. peter slams his lips against yours to keep you quiet, all your pent-up moans turning into needy hums in your throat. stars spot in your vision and you thought you might pass out from being fucked into oblivion. you wouldn’t even be mad— it was worth it.
summoning all your energy, your muscles tense as the liquid floods out of you. your back arches, making your bare breasts push up against peter’s chest. at the same time, peter comes with a string of curse words against your plush lips. he shoots his load into the condom, balls tightening while his eyes screw shut. he steadies his pumps and slowly pulls out of you, never wanting to leave.
you whimper at the emptiness, already missing his cock. he ties the knot and tosses it into the garbage under your desk. peter slips into his boxers and immediately finds the small box of tissues on your night stand. grabbing a few, he cleans you delicately like an antique doll as if he didn’t just ravish your body and soul.
you were beyond dumbstruck as he wiped you up. the few people you have been with never stayed long enough for aftercare, and even though it should be a necessity, the action still made your heart lurch for peter. speaking of your heart, it was beating a mile a minute. sex was a physical activity, yet having a huge crush on someone felt a lot more physically demanding. but you really liked the feeling.
a million thoughts brisked through your head; how does he feel? does he feel the same? did he hate it? did he love it? you shake your head. if you didn’t stop yourself, you would ruin any chance you might have by overthinking too much.
when you refocus your eyes to the moment, peter has his jeans fully on and his shirt in his hand. he slides it on and then looks at you worryingly, seeming as though you’re still naked and haven’t moved.
“are you okay? did i go too hard? fuck—”
“yes—i mean no! shit,” you stutter after interrupting him and close your eyes in embarrassment. “yes, i’m fine. i’m more than fine. that was… really good, peter. like really good.”
peter’s tensed shoulders relax as his face melts from a concerned expression to a soft one. you slip your large t-shirt on and stand up from your bed. your legs are a bit unbalanced and wobbly, and peter can’t help but chuckle as he holds you steady by your hips.
“stop laughing! you did this!” you whisper-yell with a faked angry face.
“oh, i know. next time, i’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, let alone stand,” he winks with an arrogant smile cascading his lips. familiar heat creeps up your neck and ears, making you all tingly inside at the idea of a next time with peter.
“next time?” large rings of hope surround your irises as you stare into peter’s. his arrogance slightly fades as he itches with nervousness.
“yeah, if that’s what you want, of course,” why is he holding his breath? why is his heart beating so unhealthy fast?
“if i say yes, does that mean you’re going to try to steal my panties again?” you try to hold back your grin as you joke, peering up at him with squinted eyes.
“are you going to let me steal your panties again?” he clicks his tongue with his all too familiar smirk. he loves your playful demeanor and your attempts to withhold a smile.
you pretend to think, really debating. peter can’t help but stare at you in awe. you were beautiful, and he regrets not approaching you earlier because you were… well, he didn’t really know you yet, but he wouldn’t mind getting to know you better. even if you told him to fuck off and never to see him again, he knew that he would never forget you or this night.
you push yourself closer to peter, chest to chest. you can both feel the rapid beating of your hearts through your shirts. however, you stand, gazing confidently at peter. he watches you as you lean right in like you were going to kiss him.
“mm maybe. you might just have to find out yourself,” your breathy words linger on his lips as you back away and casually get into the bed. you unfold the comforter and tuck yourself in, like you didn’t just give peter a semi-hard on in his pants.
suddenly a loud crash is heard from outside, alerting both of your heads to peer out through the window.
“my car!” flash cries so high-pitched and whiny, he probably woke up the entire neighborhood. peter isn’t surprised that one of the sorority girls destroyed his car because he deserved it. someone needed to humble him anyway. you both laugh behind the palm of your hands at flash’s girly scream.
with that, peter realizes that he has to go and that he no longer has any minutes to spare. flash, brad, and ned probably weren’t worried about peter while they were out-running the girls. but now that the girls had done the damage, the boys would soon realize peter’s absence.
“better hide your panties. this isn’t over,” peter walks over to the side of your bed and kisses your forehead delicately. he cracks open the window, turning to you with half his body out. with a wink from him and a gasp from you, he jumps down the two-story window without hesitation. your heart flutters at his gentle kiss that lingers on your skin, fingers pressed against the spot his lips last touched.
rain begins to splash on the glass as sprinkles of water drip into your room through the open window. you purposefully don’t close it, even when you know the carpet will get soaked throughout the night. you welcomed the idea that if peter wanted to come back, he could, simply by sneaking through the window the same way he left.
so many other thoughts cloud your mind, making you lie wide awake. you wondered if his heart was still thumping hastily like the rain pattering on your window and onto your floor. you wondered what he looked like when he was drenched in natural rain water. probably breathtakingly beautiful; soaking wet hair and a childish smile adorning his rosy face while he laughs wholeheartedly.
as you roll over to turn off your lamp with a wistful sigh, you remember that you never even got his number. while trying to guess which set of numbers fit peter parker the best, you fall asleep with a yearning heart, flapping its wings adoringly in your chest.
oh, god, you were down. and it was bad.
what you didn’t know was that peter was down too, but even worse than you.
tags: @raajali3
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p3terparker · 10 months
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𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆 𝗺𝗲 - 𝗽𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗲𝗿
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𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: peter wants to be babied.
𝘄/𝗰: 0.5k
𝗮/𝗻: hey guys!! it has been nearly a year since i’ve last written and i just wanna say i’m sorry for leaving for so long </3 please do bear with me, this may not be that good judging by how long it’s been since i’ve last written. i hope you enjoy though! also for everyone who has requested something, i haven’t forgotten about you! i’m getting to those soon :)
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“please hold me” 
it’s nearly 1am and you’re sprawled out on your bed watching some random movie that was playing on tv. you’ve been up waiting for hours for peter to come by after patrol, and now he’s finally here sneaking in through your window.
“are you okay baby? you finished up pretty late” you question softly as you take off his mask and brush his hair out of his face.
“i’m fine. i just want you to hold me” he says tiredly and practically puts all of his body weight on you, causing you both to fall back onto your bed.
adjusting yourselves to get more comfortable, you’re now laid back on your pillow as you hug peters large frame while his face is nuzzled in your chest.
you two lay silently as you rub his back until you decide to break the silence.
“you know, you’re still in your suit. you’re getting my bed dirty.”
“you just want me to take it off so you can see me naked”
“you’re done” you say before attempting to push him off of you. peter quickly caught your hands before you could even try.
“how did you–”
“i’m spider-man, baby”
“clearly” you chuckle, referring to him still being in his suit.
“since you want to see me naked so bad, i’ll take it off” he groans as if it’s the hardest task in the world. “happy now?”
“very. now come lay back down”
you don’t have to tell him twice. he quickly gets back into the position you two were in before and enjoys the warmth and comfort you bring him.
“you’re so perfect petey, did you know that?”
“mmm” he groans into as he nuzzles his face further into your chest, enjoying the sudden compliment.
“i mean seriously. you’re so smart, so strong, so caring and so funny. you being handsome is just the cherry on top”
“stoppp” he whines. “i’m blushing.”
“okay fine, i’m done”
“nooo, i didn’t mean it! keep going please” he cries as he lifts up his head to look at you.
“you are truly such a big baby”
“i’m your big baby. now continue please, i love being praised by you.”
how could you deny him?
“i love how cute you are. you have the prettiest brown hair and eyes. your face is perfectly sculpted too. i don’t know how i got blessed with the most handsome boyfriend in the world.” 
“mmm” he groans again in complete ecstasy. hearing your compliments is like music to his ears.
“you’re so cute, i just want to squish your cheeks” you say before lifting his head up slightly and squishing his cheeks together.
you cannot believe he’s letting you baby him like this.
“aww petey, you’re so adorable” 
“thank you” he says with a pink tint on his cheeks as he rests his head on your chest again, suddenly feeling sleepy.
you two sat in silence for a few more minutes and he peacefully drifted to sleep.
you were definitely going to make fun of him for tonight in the morning.
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thatboisus · 1 month
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“english isn’t my first langua—“ say no more.
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