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myfeetkeepdancing · 2 years

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NSFW 18+ NSFW 18+

Nathan Drake x Male Reader

“Finally peeled yourself from behind that desk…?” The familiar voice came as a flash in the night ignited the room. And there he was again. Nathan. Sitting on your sofa. That familiar smirk on his face.

“I knew this day would come.” Letting out a sigh when you notice the contours of the man seated on your comfy sofa. “Quite the entrance.”

“Yeah. I thought I leaned a little on the dramatic reveal.” He smiled fondly. “My other ideas were a lot worse.”

“In a way… I’m glad it’s you. Could’ve been much worse.” You chuckle. “How’d you get in anyway?”

“You don’t wanna know.” He rubbed his thighs slightly nervous. “But seeing that smile… makes me wonder if I should’ve done it much sooner.”

“That a look in the mirror, Nathan. You should see the look on your face.” You snort and eye him indiscriminately. “Must say, time has been kind to you.” His arms bulge in that shirt. Forearms treaded with thick veins. Brown hair combed and slicked backward. “Been busy I see…”

“You too.” He leaned forward, eyeing you the same way. “So… How is your… new… life?” Tilting his head slowly sideways. That knowing smirk on his face. “Gotten used to… doing laundry… making shopping lists?” Glancing around with a belittling expression. “Reading the newspaper every morning…”

“It’s growing on me. How about you?”

“I’m fine.” Flicking meaninglessly through the pages of the newspaper lying on the coffee table. Giving you the worst faked smile you ever saw on Nathan’s face. “Thanks for asking.”

“I see...” Crossing your arms and lean into the doorpost. Watching Nathan holding back something you can’t fully put your finger on. “Why do I feel there’s more to this?” Stepping into the room. It feels like stepping into a cage. “You’ve always been a terrible liar, Nathan.”

“Either you’re in trouble…” That glint in Nathans’s eye twinkled as you sat yourself on the armrest of the couch. Opposite of Nathan. “Or… you’re here to crash on my couch for the night. No, wait… that’s all the same to you.”

“Alright, I have a feeling I… eh… got off on the wrong foot…” He says, rising to his feet, you feel slightly apprehensive at first. “Can we start over…?”

You remain unmoved, heart racing a little as he steps closer. Cautiously taking his steps. Nathan aware of your mistrust. “Pretend this didn’t happen?”

“I haven’t eaten.” You let out a sigh. “How about we grab a bite and work from there…?”

“Wait…” Nathan darted forward, his hand against your chest. The distance between the two of you closed within a heartbeat. “I… m-... There are a lot of things I didn’t say when we… went our ways. I... just haven’t been… honest.”

“Are you saying… your conscience got the better of you…?” The irritation boiling inside of you. “I know you kept a sweater, a shirt, and… my bottle of perfume. What else is there… that I don’t know?”

Nathan is smooth and swift. He steps in and takes you right on the lips. It takes you back. Just like it was back then. Your noses touch and skim awkwardly against each other as he overwhelms you. The moving force behind the kiss, he’s hesitant for a moment. That first wave of emotions washes through his movement. Awaiting your reaction. The taste is the same. The feeling is the same. Your heart skips a beat. Excitement taking over. Following him into the kiss. Kissing him back. Wanting to.

“You stole my heart when you left…” Nathan whispered through the kiss. “And I fucking… miss you.” Repeating it again as he rested his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” One hand cradling the back of your head. The kiss left you both breathless and… somehow relieved. The tension was so thick and so relentless. The unspoken glances shot back and forth. That in just a matter of minutes. While it’s been months since you separated and went your own way. You never forgot each other. Still on each other’s minds. “All of it.”

“You… s-should’ve started with that.” Trying to suppress the growing excitement within you. “Shit…”

The past was an interesting one, especially with Nathan. When you’re young, the thrill of exploration and adventure is ever-present. And the world was full of them. Stories and mysteries. Myths and treasures. The next one is more attractive than the other. Now those stories and adventures are tied up in relics dotted across your apartment. Of what a life once was. A thrilling one, but dangerous for the age.

Now settled and living the ‘normal’ life. A desk job. Stability. Quiet.

But without Nathan.

“If I’d known…” His hands lower to your hips, balancing you on the armrest of the couch. “I wouldn’t have been waiting in this room.”

“What happens now…?” Silencing his lips with a finger as you move to your feet. Seeing his lips curl into this devious smirk. “Do we… slip back into… old habits?”

“Fuck yeah...” With a freshly released pent-up frenzy of love and lust, you viciously move towards the bedroom. Discarding each other’s clothing along the way. Frames fall from the walls as you bang from side to side in the hallway. Fighting for dominance and bare skin. Kisses become violent, and touches intensify. Until you end up on the mattress of your bed.

Forcing Nathan on his back, you throw a leg over and seat yourself on top of him. Naked and more than ready. Balls and cock resting on his abs. Firm and hard. Warm to the touch.

Just like his cock. It’s looming behind you. The thought of it alone made you want it even more. That feeling intensified as Nathan perched himself upwards, one hand on your neck, and pulls you in for a kiss. It’s slow but so good. “No quick cuddle…” He insisted with a grin. “We have no dinner reservation to get to...” His hands feeling your body up. Eyes full of lust. “Or a plane to catch. It’s just us… you and me.”

“I can’t wait to feel you again…” You confess outright. Wetting your fingers with a spat of spit. Reaching behind you, you feel this familiar length, standing tall and eager to get in on the action.

The touch of your fingers on his twitching length makes Nathan moan through the kiss. It’s warm and firm. You feel the veins protruding underneath the tight skin. Sliding backward makes the ongoing kiss a challenge to uphold, and Nathan tries to follow. You lean in. Until you feel his rock-hard cock fill the crease and curvature of your asscheeks. Its slippery length rubs up against your skin, its frantic throbbing teasing your senses.

“Go slowly…” Nathan whispers as you let go of his lips. Watching and feeling you angle his tip to your entrance. Rising your ass to meet up his tip. “It’s… been a while.”

The resistance at first is prevalent. A simultaneous groan of the two of you sends shivers over your spine. That teasing sensation of his pink tip, stretching your hole. Wanting inside. Nathan reaches over and gropes your asscheeks. Digging his fingers deep in, and spreads them wide apart. Making it so that you manage to pop his tip in.

Your sphincter protests, fights back. Struggles for a moment or two. So does your mind. But the feeling of Nathan’s cock once again penetrating you is overwhelming. Your knees weaken, and feel yourself give in. “Fu-... uck... Nathan…” Words fall short, as does your breath. He always managed to rub you right inside you. That eagerness grew inside you. Wanting more.

“Keep b-breathing…” Nathan reminds you with a quick kiss. But memories of your last time with Nathan flood your mind. It’s been so long. The craving and urges have never been higher. And that euphoric feeling of his cock once again inside you made you lose control of your body. Forgetting to breathe is just one thing. The growing cramps in your leg muscles are another. Your legs sink deep in the sheets, muscles struggling to keep you upright.

“Breathe…” Nathan went again, this time putting his lips to yours. Taking your mind off all the things happening. A sigh loosens your muscles, and you sink further down onto his cock. The lingering tease now turned into a pleasurable fulfillment. You can’t stop moaning to the sensations overwhelming you.

“That’s it…” He groaned as you felt him fill you up. Hearing the pleasure in his voice as he complimented you. “All nice and tight for me…”

You have to fight to keep your composure. Savor that full moment of him penetrating you slowly. Your body fights back. Your hole and cheeks clench hard and quiver under the increasing pressure that pushes into you. Nathan’s firm grip on your asscheeks prevents that.

“Take it in…” Pulling your cheeks apart. “All of it…” You feel his length stretch and push in on your narrow insides. Every curve and vein pushing on your walls. Deeper and deeper. Your body gave in as it tried to resist. But you knew better. And you wanted more.

“N-Nate…” You stammer as his length slid into you up to the last inch. Once his hands had spread your asscheeks apart, you let out a moan of pleasure.

It sank deep and penetrated you fully. You have to gather your breath. Senses overloaded. Mind blank. You couldn’t cope.

“Fuck me…” You ask, plead and beg all through a series of groans. Trying to force your body into a grinding rhythm on his cock. But that sensation of his cock buried so deep into you made your body quiver. Every time you tried to roll your hips, his lengths rubbed places inside you, you needed him to. Wanted him to. Craved. You’re simply unable to move.

“I can’t…” You stammer through a chuckle and try to grab his shoulders. Hold yourself onto him.

“Let me…” Nathan whispered as he laid back, spread out to give a clear view, looking down at his exposed body. You couldn’t help but admire how perfect it was, arms thick and strong, a bulky chest that flexed as he helped you into motion. “I’ll make you feel good...”

His grip on your ass moved further down, slowly lifting you up. That girthy cock of his almost creating a vacuum inside you. It slid out an inch or two, but it was more than enough. Slowly sinking you down again.

Your dick slapped against his abs, pre-cum already flicking back and forth with the impact of his next push. Barely any control over your own body, you try to hold onto his shoulders.

When you thought you had adjusted, he increases his pace, completely and utterly pounding your insides. All you hear is the loud sound of skin-on-skin as he slammed deeper into your ass.

All you can feel is pleasure as your vision hazes. You needed very little stimulation.

All you can feel is your heart pounding, his cock inside you, and your cock throbbing with every push.

Your cock slapped onto his perfect body. You can feel your balls start to churn. He looks so gorgeous writhing beneath you, such a mixture of hot and adorable. You can hardly bear watching any longer it. Let alone keep it in.

Nathan stirring you on with his lusting gaze. Hitting you in all the right places. The sensation is feels utterly amazing. Cum just spills without a warning. Spraying it all over him. He watches you in amazement and fascination as the first rope of cum shoots out of you and onto his muscles.

“L-Like… old t-times.” Nathan smiled as he welcomed your lips, seeing your arms buckle from the pleasures. You feel yourself fall forward into him, his lips up close, strong arms wrap around your neck like a vice. “You haven’t changed, have you…” Nathan teased as he helped you ride out your wave of ecstasy. Swaying you in the motion, meeting you halfway with slow thrusts.

“Nothing changed.” You confessed with his hard cock still inside you. “I just… miss this.” Showing him a smile as you begin to gather yourself. His scent assaults your senses once again, just like many months ago, you take your time, slowly savoring every part of him, his smell, his sweat, the taste of his lips on yours.

“I thought you were going to confess-…” Nathan breathed out, combing his fingers through your hair a bit rough to get your attention. “-... that you m-missed me.” His voice is low, raspy. It’s turning you on even more. The air of pheromones is heavy, the smell seeping into your mind, both wanting it badly.

“Make me…”

His grip is so firm, yet it slides against your skin, teasing you. Nathan really does have a large, firm, toned body, even his legs are muscular. The bed shudders and creaks as you roll over. Looking at his face, he’s so focused. All it takes is looking into each other’s eyes for him to know that you want him to fill you up.

“I’m not gonna lie…” He lifted your legs, pulling you closer, ready for him to mount you. Nathan’s muscled body loomed over you. “I’m real close...” The cum dripped from his abs. From his well-built frame all the way down to this hard cock. Without hesitating, he nudges his tip into your tight, quivering hole, letting half of it pop inside. “But… I’ll try…”

You’re once again breathless. Feeling him fill you up. Nathan really is sexier now, even more so than a few months ago. No longer able to hold back, he pounds into you, your body braced. You can take him in further. You feel it, your entrance contracting with each thrust he makes. Accepting him in. Deeper and deeper.

He pins you down on the bed, hips bucking as he thrusts into you. Clasping your hands on his hips, you guide him, as he pushes down with every thrust, body already used to his length. You can feel him going in and out. And you can’t help but shiver in pleasure with every push.

Your eyes lock as his handsome face stares into yours; you can’t look away. Taking in the sight of this muscular man in front of you, body pulsing with each thrust.

“I’ll make you cum again before I do…” Rubbing his hand all over your cock. Despite being limb just seconds ago. It swells and hardens within his gentle and loving touch. It’s slick and ready to go for another round.

You can feel him move from a steady pace to this harder and faster pounding one. Your insides feel like they’re tearing apart. Lost in a haze of passion. You can feel his moves become desperate, pounding more and more, approaching your own release again. Forcefully thrusting his hips, battering your ass. Jerking your cock with increasing vigor. Your cock still sensitive from before wasn’t going to stop Nathan.

“Oh God… N-Nate” All you can feel is pleasure as he wanks you off, timing the strokes to his thrusts. His grip tightens. “Faster… H-Harder!” Wrapping your legs around his back.

Calling out to each other in pleasure like this. It awakened something in one another, stirring on his movements. In response to your words, the thrusts hasten in speed, flashes of white begin to color your vision as he pounds into you.

Each time he hits your prostate, you feel that jolt of pleasure all through your body. Hand stroking faster, forcing the release. His muscles flexing as he penetrates deeper and deeper. Your insides were starting to tighten up more. No longer able to hold back. Your vision glazes over as you surrender to his pounding.

“I’ll fuck… the cum out of ya…” He groans as his grip tightens. Your body adjusts to his movements, the pain subsiding as you savor every thrust he makes, each move going faster. Your entrance slick as he pounds more intensely with each thrust.

Your bodies come together, at this point neither of you care for the sounds you make. The climax inside you builds up as the cock inside you assaults your hole fiercely. His body heaving with every thrust, his strong features are on full display as you writhe under him.

You cum, shoving your face hard against the mattress and your ass against his crotch. Body in a quivering state of perpetual pleasure. Cum jets from your swollen cock. Nathan strokes hard, milking every last possible drop. Making you spill all over yourself. Glazing your own stomach in a coat of your own cum. The pulses sends Nathan after you.

Nathan cums with full force. And you accept it. Take it in. His cock hardens and unloads a stream of warm cum that fills your insides. You feel him. Contracting and unloading. His groans are as sexy as ever before. Gripping you. Holding you.

“Breathe…” You mutter and grab him by the neck, placing your lips on his. Stealing your breath in an instance as he regained his senses. Bodies burning up from the heat, sweat running down your faces, mixing into the kiss. Lips turning in a smile. Both panting, trying to recover your breaths, you peaked at his face, all zoned out after such an intense release.

“K-Keep it in…” You urge him as you clench your ass as tightly as you possibly can, trying to hold his load in. You felt him chuckle. His body shook as he reseated himself, and pressed his hips deep into you. Despite his efforts, cum was spurting out, bubbling around the rim of your ass. Slowly oozing downwards.

“I miss what we did. What we used to do. What we were.” Nathan whispered into your ear as he slowly lifted himself onto his arms. “Can we please go back…? At least… gimme a try. I’ll try to be a bett-...”

A finger to his lips stops Nathan from talking. His chocolate brown eyes, big and lovingly, stare at you with this glimmer of desire. “You don’t know what you’re missing until they’re gone.” Throwing your arms around his neck. “Now I know…”

Nathan’s softer side shined through as he smiled. Hugging you closely. Caressing your lips with a lover’s embrace. “I bet you got that out of the Da Vinci Code.” He teased you, slapping it from your nightstand. “You oughta know better. Now for real….” Stealing a quick kiss from your lips. “Will you… gimme a chance?”

“The past is the past. All this time, it started to grow on me… I can’t do without you.” With your legs twisted around his body like a vice, you clamp yourself onto him. Arms and legs tightly hugging him. “Time for a new adventure, Nathan. A new chapter.” And give a playful slap on his ass. Feeling him harden again. “Or another round is fine as well.”

“What were you mad about…?” He inquires with a persuasive session of peppered kisses along face your and down your neck. “I’d like to know… to improve.”

“Doesn’t matter, Nathan.” You stammer, unable to think straight. The shower of kisses and praise your body gets from Nathan is exhilarating. At the same time, you feel the sheets go damp underneath you. The cold sensation trickled down the crack of your ass and lower back. “The sheets…” Trying to plug your hole with him again. Reaching for a piece of discarded clothing lying on the bed. “The cum is-...”

You get stopped by Nathan. Pinning the arm in place at your wrist. “You either tell me…” Grabbing your other arm and pins it down on the other side of you. “Or you and I are going to stain the sheets… into oblivion.” Slowly pulling his cock in and out of you. The resistance is gone. It’s all slicked and ready. Each cycle of his hip rolling against yours caused the cum to seep out slowly. Trickling down. The inevitable.

“L-Looks like your body made the choice for you…” Nathan glanced down, buried his face into your neck, leaned and arched into you further, his muscled torso pressing into you, locking your stiffened cock in-between your bodies. Your length teased by the ripples of his abs. Gliding back and forth as he began moving. “You won’t be able to walk… w-when I’m done.” He growls into your ear. “You tell me…”

But you let the silence speak for itself.

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nouearth · 9 months

Text

a sticky situation.

peter parker x male reader.

summary: peter has a major crush on his roommate: you. everything unravels when he walks in on you changing.

wc: 4.1k. genre: smut. warnings: holland!peter, sub!top peter, voyeur!peter, college!au, dry-humping, grinding, frotting, handjobs, kissing, peter's first time, dubcon, cumplay, peter and reader are shooters, characters are aged up!

a bite of the cold air shuddered your damp and nude body once you stepped out of the bathroom, cataloguing the tidiness of your shared bedroom after. your shoulders tensed when the heated air and cold draft clashed for an estate of your body. but by the way your muscles eased into the green towel around your waist, you’ve figured which side won the war. a warm cheer to victory buzzed in your head.

god, did i luck out with peter…

you found yourself repeating that observation often these days. it’s only been two months into the semester, but you’ve already concluded that peter was leagues better than your previous roommate. though, the bar was low—he was kind of a homophobe. that guy was a walking proof of evidence that opposites, in fact, do not attract.

on the other hand, peter had proven that similar interests and personalities were the foundation of beautiful, growing relationships: both platonically and romantically. still, relationships were never that black and white—a grey area. a theory that will forever be tested on, only for the outcome to come out vaguer than before, you’ve realized.

peter was like you: friendly, smart, awkward at times, funny to some. you and him basically have the same qualities of a dog, but there was more to it.

you both shared the same liking down to the genre of video games, the magic of fantasy novels, the cleanliness of a room, the color-coded organization of study notes, and more.

from there, the similar line of characteristics began to blur. whereas you’d prefer to learn from experience, peter liked playing by the book—sticking to it if he could. peter liked red, you liked blue. he favored savory snacks, you devoured them, but preferred sweet drinks.

opposites attract—the theory was once again, broad in your honor.

difference and similarities aside, you were lucky to have peter in your life. the bedroom was colder before you went to shower, but now it blossomed with a gentle heat.

he knew you hated the cold after a warm shower.

taking the other towel, you dried off the rest of your body while you checked your phone for notifications: a missed call from a friend and a few emails regarding construction around the building you had your classes in.

seriously? still? it’s been almost a year already…

normally, you wouldn’t have walked into the bedroom like this, baring skin and all. but peter went to get food because you both have become familiarized with what they served as food at parties.

note to self: you cannot get full off alcoholic beverages. you and peter both tried two parties ago, and it ended with you two sharing the toilet bowl, detoxing your insides of that liquid poison the entire night. the only enjoyment that resulted from that night was learning that peter was a drunk-crier, and you, a drunk-dancer. your friendship had only leveled up since.

you slid on your white briefs once you dried off before shuffling to the other side of the room, browsing through your shared closet aimlessly: he took the left side, you took the right. it was always dim at those parties, so a nice outfit would be wasted. also, you somehow became a magnet for other people’s misfortunes. it took hours to get rid of the smell of this one girl’s vomit—you threw it out in the end.

“no, no… it’s going to be cold later…” you cycled through your clothes again, sighing when nothing caught your eye. “guess i can wear this aga-“

“hey!” out of nowhere, peter’s voice sprung out from the side of the room, followed by a quiet thud, and you twisted your bare body towards the source out of fright.

“jesus, you scared me.” the closet door blocked your view of peter, and vice versa, but you presumed he was leaning against the frame—a habit you noted. “i didn’t even hear you come back.”

“sorry- what was i saying..? oh!” his shadow loomed between you and him, growing as he stepped closer to the closet. “did you want to eat now or-“

judging from the volume of his voice, you should’ve expected how close peter was when you shut the closet. “fuck!” you jumped back, eyes widening when he was practically chest to chest with you. “dude, you really gotta stop doing that.”

on a daily basis, you always looked up at him, but you never paid it much thought to how much taller he was.

“sorry! guess everyone’s a little antsy with the- oh.” he paused.

“what?” you curiously looked up at him, catching sight of his wandering gaze. you were quick enough to follow it, flickering between glimpses of your bare body and face several times like a tennis ball. somehow, you didn’t puzzle the pieces between his shock and your curiosity until he backed away, skittish in nature.

you were in your underwear. still in your underwear. the barrier was the captor of your embarrassment, heat rosed your cheeks as you stood frozen. and with it, the barrier was also your savior.

“oh- OH!” the size of your eyes matched his and upon realizing he’s been staring for far too long, peter cowered his gaze to the side, a gentlemanly hand blocking his sight as he further backed to the door frame, then blindly bumped his shoulder into the door. “i’m so sorry-“

“no, no! i should’ve knocked. i-“ he groaned out, pacifying the sting to his shoulder with his palm. “that was stupid of me, i’m gonna-“

that was another similarity that you both valued: privacy.

before you could reply, he scattered off. for a moment, you felt hot in the face, in the neck, even on your chest. but it would only take a few more seconds for your skin to cool, comforted by the fact that you could’ve shown more—you didn’t.

when peter scrambled out of the room, his gaze fixated on the ground, to the stripes of his socks as they shuffled to the kitchen.

but he never made it very far, because he was easily persuaded. either by his hormones, by the shape of your body, or by his closeted feelings about you. in the end, it didn’t matter because a tightening feeling conjured him back to his original spot—it was always going to be about you.

he was silent in his footsteps, treading backwards to the bedroom as his throat ran dry—heartbeat equally.

tonight. i should do it tonight. are my feelings that obvious? god, i hope not. wait, no- they are! they gotta be… who the fuck wipes marshmallow off of your roommate’s lips and calls them cute?!

peter does.

as his thoughts ran rampant, clouded his regularly murky mind, you were in his line of sight, perfectly captured in the middle of his gaze—now stilled—awe-strucked while he watched you change.

quick portraits of your thick thighs and calves came and went before they were completely masked by the slide of your shorts. then your stomach and chest; pliant, moist skin that layered over the contours of your body before being covered by a tee. he exhaled, then inhaled, smelling the scent of your shampoo and body wash, and he was delighted because you own that scent.

enraptured because only peter could have his senses triggered by you on a daily basis.

if peter could frame this moment, it would be an expensive endeavor that would sacrifice all the money in the world to find the most perfect materials that complemented your textured skin. your smooth body. your handsome face.

you. that was all he wanted.

peter had been trapped since the day he saw you unpacking your things into the dorm. sweaty from the sun, and you knew that, because you refused to shake hands with him until you insisted on washing up first. he wished you never did—your thighs looked better sweating under those shorts.

he’s had crushes before. one in middle school, three in high school. but they amounted to nothing, he never had the confidence. rather, he preferred isolating himself and admiring from afar. rejections had already been predicted, and he was used to the feeling of defeat. if someone were to accept his advances one day, then that would lead to a disruption of events—a catastrophic end to humanity—he joked.

you were different to peter. he loved how, for once, he didn’t have to be the one initiating conversation. he also loved how you didn’t use him for answers because instead, you would help him out with his assignments.

oh, is that professor warren’s class? I think i still have the textbook for her class… let me look.

even when it would only take five minutes to grab a drink down the street, you still invited him. not out of pity like everybody once did, but because he was your friend. parties have never been your thing, but you accompanied them with him because it made him feel better—to know someone.

maybe since he’s grown more mature since then, but now that he was off on his own, it was up to him to predict his future. it was an advice you gave him one night, and he’s kept that close to his heart since then. not the hate that had inflicted his mind, not his peers telling he wasn’t good enough for someone—but him.

in his imaginary world, peter could feel the walls shake when he was around you. the buildings would then fall apart, the earth would scorch civilians and planetary life with heat, and the thundering rain would only make it worse. it was a morbid image. yet, if it meant that you truly liked him, then…

aliens, come do your thing. we insist upon an invasion!

peter wanted you. point, blank, period. it wasn’t his preferred way to confess, but intense sentiments of like, love, lust—all at the same time—ate him up on the inside, and he was scared of being devoid of feelings for you.

“i want… you,” peter muttered, and you jolted again, turning back around in case you misheard him. you were bewildered at the sight of him. once again, you didn’t hear his footsteps.

“what?” you shuffled nervously on your feet. the tension in the air was thick and hot now with the way he stared back at you, frightened yet assured.

“i want you.” there was credence in peter’s tone, and he neared to the door now.

your eyes narrowed into the deep abyss of peter’s eyes as you sat on the foot of your bed, putting on socks. somewhere in your endeavors, you found a flicker of that familiar joke. “ha. ha. very funny,” you muttered bitterly.

it haunted you. as soon as you came out, you were taunted by those same exact words by your ‘friends,’ by your previous roommate. what made you different from them became a simple reason to cease empathy and kindness, and you were baffled that this was happening again.

maybe peter was like the others after all.

you avoided peter’s gaze in favor of the floor, the legs of your desk, your rug—anywhere but him—and you could feel the color drain out of your face, out of this room—deja vu. “look, i know it’s funny to you because i like guys and for whatever reason, straight guys like to flirt with gay men to get a reaction out of us,”

the rug cushioned the weight of a familiar pair of feet, and you looked up, a great frown etched in your face when your eyes met peter’s. he towered over you, bewildered. “but it makes me uncomfortable. and it’s not funny to-“

he didn’t know what roused him. the pain in your voice made him want to apologize without any resort to excuses. the pout on your lips made him want to cradle your head, yet kiss you at the same time. the growing tent in his pants made him want to pin you to your bed, and simply ravish you.

it was all a blur.

his impulsive thoughts became a reality once he stole the remaining words left in your distress, and clumsily swallowed them with a kiss. you didn’t have time to process his lips on yours because you were then pushed onto your back, stilted and surprised, as peter applied his weight on top of yours—his broader build shadowed you in welfare.

“pete-“ you groaned into the hot, breathy kiss, and despite the light attempts to push him away, you were compelled to return the wet exchange. breathlessly, you repeated, “stop, this isn’t funny-“ he kissed you again. all this time, you could’ve had him, but you deluded yourself into thinking otherwise.

“i’m not laughing,” peter muttered, and his hips began moving into yours, aimlessly trying to alleviate the stiffness in his pants. “i want you.” his voice lowered—no longer a confession, but a demand. he rocked into you harder once he felt you throb under those tight short, and you slipped out a moan, memorizing the beat of peter that pulsated against you.

you remembered him being bashful when you two talked about your firsts. you weren’t completely inexperienced like he was, but you mentioned that it’s been a while since you’ve done anything remotely intimate. school was your focus, a relationship was your reward.

“peter,” you repeated again, he wasn’t listening. “peter.” he whispered a demand; to keep calling his name, and you couldn’t help but quietly chuckle at the cliché line often heard in soft porn.

then, you cupped your hands around his temples to pull him away. he gazed into you with ardent hunger, almost annoyed that you ruined the trail of kisses he began leaving on your neck. “did you drink without me? because if you did, then i don’t think we should-“

“i didn’t,” he sobered on the softness of your lips, and like a flip switch, he snapped out of his fictional world of you. “fuck- i’m so sorry, i didn’t even ask you if you wanted to- fuck, i even forgot to say that i like you.” he ranted to himself, beginning to pull himself away. “this was not how it was supposed to go.”

infatuation had expanded into something beyond your control, and your feelings for him ignited even more. a wick bursted into powerful flames, and it warmed your body knowing that you two shared the same sentiment.

before he completely peeled himself off your body, you pulled him down by the neck, then pressed your nose to his, grinning. “I like you too.” a peck to the tip of his nose, then the center of his lips. your onslaught of fleeting kisses to his skin drowned him, pacifying every muscle in his body until it became jelly, and also making it all the more easier to roll him under you.

“not exactly how i imagined my first date with you, but,” you straddled his lap, roaming your hands around peter’s chest, an asset of his you’ve frequently daydreamed about. “you sure?”

the applied pressures to your waist, then bottom should’ve been a definite measure of his answer, but he smiled up at you, guiding a steady pace of your hips to his groin. he was easily distracted, suddenly cascading his other palm up your shirt then down to finally feel the bare skin he had spent long showers jerking off to. fantasies had now been served onto a platter before him, and peter planned on devouring you, piece by piece. “please.”

“must have had a lot on your mind if you couldn’t even confess to me.” it was unusual to see him like this—absolutely enthralled by your presence, high off of it. aching for more of you with the way he pushed his groin into you. “how long have you been thinking about this?” being unusual always had negative connotations to it.

you pressed into him harder, rubbing at his print with gallant grinds. not in this moment.

he moaned, “far too long…” then fumbled with the waistband of your shorts before doing the same with the zipper. “you’ve been driving me crazy, especially these days.” it was a simple task, a daily labor that peter was great at, but his hands shook when his finger met metal. you chuckled, and placed a comforting hand to his cheek, stroking the soft skin with the amplest caress.

take your time. i’m not going anywhere.

“mind sharing what you thought about then?” the only time you peel yourself away from peter’s groin was to help him slide your shorts off, then his jeans. peter lifted his hips, and you two were joined together again. aching together. “just curious.” you joked by pulsating your bulge, and he shyly laughed when he saw the restrictive twitch.

felt it.

“well... where do i start?” peter’s warm hand rested on your inner thigh, dangerously close to your erection while delicately exploring your soft skin. “there’s been so many times where i just wanted to…” he was too ashamed to finish his sentence, looking away.

“wanted to…?” your body arced over his, placing a persuading kiss to his cheek, then neck. “what was it?” they lingered, sunk deep into his skin with the utmost affection, and he left the deepest, pleasurable sighs as if you withdrew it from him. you commenced his dilemma. “tell me what you thought when you first saw me. saw that i was your roommate.”

“i...” peter began, and you could tell his nerves got the best of him, so you rocked into him again, begged with your hips. the position made it easier to feel all of him, press into his warmth more, and you couldn’t stop. wouldn’t. “i didn’t know what to feel. i was happy, that i had someone as kind as you…” you gleefully hummed, agreeing as you continued leaving kisses to his neck.

“then i was nervous, because you were so… cute. handsome. beautiful.” he moaned when you began to grind in slow, deep strides. your bulges squeezed and pushed one another, peter did the same, growing impossibly bigger against you. “but when i saw you in those shorts, sweating because move-in day was always on a hot day…”

“yeah?” you beckoned him to finish his sentence because you were closing your eyes now, remembering that very moment because you felt the same. the way peter’s chest, his muscles, were broad and stunning under his own layer of sweat, under his loose shirt, under that naivety that you would never have dreamed to think of him as such a…

“i just wanted to fuck you.”

pervert.

the shy smile he gave you messed with your perception of him. clearly, you’ve underestimated him all this time, and you kissed him again. “so, you only thought about pleasuring yourself.”

he quickly broke the kiss to defend himself. “wait, no! t-that’s not what i meant.”

“peter, relax.” your laugh calmly settled into a comforting smile, and you blindly reached down to his thick print, feeling and squeezing at whatever you can because you were desperate to explore him. “i’m joking.” his chest rose.

for the remainder of time, you spent it stroking peter through his underwear. dryly to his frustration, but he never told you because he wanted to experience you in every way. his lips never left yours, only parted to moan into your mouth when you shoved your hand into his briefs to sate your desire to feel him bare.

peter was big in your small hand. the weight felt suffocating to your palm when you grabbed ahold of his sack, fondling his balls, then stroking his cock again, and you were intoxicated in the way he melted under you, looked into you, begged for you to go faster.

you did. who wouldn’t when he gazed at you with the most puppy-like eyes?

he had complete control of you now, because every action, every stroke, from then on had been a journey to his personal paradise. you didn’t care that you were left abandoned, that you were aching harder than he was. watching him was more than adequate.

both pairs of briefs and shirts have been tossed to the side now, and you maintained your straddle. it was riveting to watch how much bigger peter was when you took both of your cocks together and stroked. he practically enveloped you with the weight of his length, the girth of his shaft, and you wallowed in the fact that he was incredibly bashful about it.

peter’s hand never left your body. he charmed you by his neediness. it was clumsy in execution, but he always squeezed a moan out of you with he felt your ass, your chest, your nipples, your thighs. “fuck, pete.”

everything about you was beautiful, incredibly more so when you caved into him as he dealt kisses to your bare skin and took his own turn at jerking the both of you off.

he was eager. delirious. hard, stiffening hard, against you, and you felt every vein pulsate the harder— the faster—he squeezed and stroked. you leaned back, hands planted to the mattress beneath you, then maneuvered your hips to the rhythm of his fist. you found a pace while peter kept you steady, and fucked into his fist, against his wet cock, sliming your dripping pre-cum together with the utmost fervor.

“wait, (m/n),” he hiccuped, and his hold on you tightened, nails dug into your left waist but you ignored his plea, fucking steadily into his fist. “stop, i’m going to-“ they fell on deaf ears, and mouth agape, peter watched you with incredulity. you can feel his body flex, your balls smushed to his when you grinned up, your pre-cum sticking to his, his to yours, like a sick web. “s-stop, oh god.”

and peter unraveled before you with a guttural moan, finishing the rest of his plea with a blasting of thick and creamy ropes to his chest, like a cannon. the force was strong enough to have a few shots land on his face, then his hair, and then somewhere above because peter was a big shooter—a strong one, you’d passionately testify. “f-fuck, i didn’t mean to cum so-“

“holy shit.” you watched peter in all his glory, then in his embarrassment, while stilted on his lap and sweating, not taking notice of the delay of your climax because it crept up on you quick. a rocket broke the cloud in your thoughts with a boom, and you spilled all over him, shooting like fireworks. “shit!”

peter was your canvas, and it was your duty to paint him. debris of sex splattered everywhere, because you somehow found the strength to continue fucking yourself into the cream of fist, unloading and unloading onto him until you were dry, heaving and dripping.

“fuck- I didn’t mean to ruin your sheets-” he mumbled, a blush stained his cheeks, and you joined in the warmth with a kiss, panting.

“where’s the fun in all of this if you aren’t going to stain at least one thing.” your brows raised at the wet stain on the wall above peter’s head, right below your wall-shelf, and peter’s gazed followed.

he groaned, distressed by the evident he made. “fuck, sorry…” his bashfulness only endeared you even more.

“it’s okay,” you hopped off his lap, stretching your arms into the air. “i’ll clean you up.”

“okay,” peter lay still, his hand cautiously held over his stomach to catch the drips of his cum and yours. it was fascinating to watch the mixture flow together, strands of it melding and un-webbing as he played with the sticky residue. it was the scientist in him. “my towel is on the- fuck-“

without a beat, you took his dripping flaccid cock into your mouth, sucking off any remnants of spunk. an unfamiliar taste you weren’t used to, bitter and salty. it wasn’t until you noticed how peter’s eyes glazed over you, half-lidded because he was in heaven now, that you found the taste of him delectable. peter’s caution for staining your bed sheets was disregarded, because he knew you’d clean the rest of him off.

after you pulled away with a soft pop, he traced your wet lips with the cum on his fingers, then his knuckles, before he pushed one by one into your mouth. one finger at first, then two, then three, you moaned erotically around his digits as peter pumped, marveling in the eagerness of your mouth. he slowly pushed more cum into your mouth. the creamy residue gathered at the corner of your mouth at first but he made sure to scoop it back in, and continued doing so until he was polished clean.

nothing was wasted.

the taste of you and him spread in the warmth of your tongue, and you have never felt more intoxicated.

to peter, you have never looked more beautiful.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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justice-maul · 9 months

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Can I request Tom's peter parker x male reader

Peter hasn't seen his bf for a while and when they finally meet they try to have sex and make out but are getting interrupted by the avengers every single time. Getting Peter annoyed little by little until he finally reaches his limits and tells the avengers to leave them alone since he is going to get fucked by his bf and doesn't want any interruptions

With a breeding kink, eating out peters ass, playing with peters pecs, praising kink

Thanks :)

«Temptation» Tom!Peter Parker x Top Avenger Male Reader

Word count: 1,366

Author Note: thank you anon I love this request so far it’s one of my favs! English isn’t my first language!

WE WERE JUST AT 400 A FEW DAYS AGO AND NOW I HAVE NEAR 800 FOLLOWERS?!?! YALL ARE THE BEST I LITERALLY LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH ❤️

Warning(s)⚠: Sub Peter, breeding, rim job, breast/pec play, nipple play, p in a, and of course, praise

It’s been so long since Peter has seen let alone touched his boyfriend, with the constant missions you two weren’t able to do anything together but finally, you two were both free and he was desperate to just feel you…

You two were in his room on the bed with Peter in your lap straddling your waist, his hands rested on your shoulders, your lips on his just as desperate to taste him as he was eager, you gently sucked his lip between your teeth, nipping at his bottom lip signaling him to open his mouth just enough for your tongue to slide into his warm wet mouth

But suddenly there’s a knock on the door and both of you are forced to pull away as Tony comes in to grab Peter for yet another time-consuming project, and it wasn’t the first time the Avengers had cock blocked both of you

Last week you were on top of him your hands trailed down his pants and felt up the fat of his ass as he let out a soft noise of pleasure in your mouth before Sam sent you a text to help him train. After a mission, Peter and you were desperate to feel each other as he palmed your cock but Steve sent out a message to all the Avengers for a long meeting

You can see that it was starting to get to Peter so one day as you two were on your couch in your bedroom you gently gripped his thigh moving your hand deeper in between as you began to kiss his neck in order to calm down his nerves, he let out a little whine as he’s been needy to just feel any sexual contact these past few weeks

Your lips gently sucked on his neck, pressing in hickeys to his skin as you began to leave light bites along his nape letting your teeth graze his skin causing him to let out louder noises but just as your hand moved to his pants one by one the avengers all came into the room

You saw Peter’s hands clench into fists as he watched all the Avengers swarm into your room and began to talk as if you two weren’t even there trying to spend time together alone and he couldn’t help but just snap, finally reaching his limit and stood up

“All of you, get out NOW!”

He yelled, it was unusual to see Peter yelling at anyone but it was clear he was pissed. “You have been bothering us all week can’t you leave for one day?!” He snapped and slowly the Avengers began to leave and he slammed the door shut behind them making it clear that he didn’t want anyone to disturb him

He let out a sigh of relief and turned back to you and you couldn’t help but just chuckle and you grab his waist pulling him in against your body and smashing your lips against his and soon you two were on the couch again making out, your hands snaked up his sweater lifting up right above his chest and began to gently grope his pecs

"Your body's so beautiful baby" You whispered against his lips causing him to shudder as your hands felt up his pecs gently squeezing and groping the fat, Peter was always incredibly sensitive and his chest was one of his weakest areas, especially his pink little buds

You pushed him against the couch getting in between his thighs as you began to grope his chest, feeling the supple skin against your fingers through his sweater was already driving you crazy and causing him to make the most pornographic noises only by you just you barely touching his chest

“Keep making those pretty noises for me sweetheart," you manhandled him on his knees with his ass raised in the air and removed both his pants and underwear, his sweater being the only piece of clothing left. He hid his face on the armrest as you grabbed handfuls of his cheeks

You waste no time in spreading his plump ass making his pink hole twitch as your breath fans over it jerking forward when you press your tongue flat against his rim and you began to take long strips along his hole making him whine pathetically which turned into a string of cusses as you pushed your tongue inside his slick heat

You can barely make out anything he was babbling but you continued to fuck his hole with your tongue, pulling back for a moment, you licked your own fingers, coating them in saliva before pushing two inside of his heat, your tongue joining them, spreading him open while enjoying the way he arched his back against your face

Your cock throbbed and harden between your legs, leaking precum into your boxers as it begged for attention when you finally were able to scissor and put three fingers inside him, is when you decided he was ready and pulled your fingers out of his cunt unbuckling your belt

When Peter saw you pull out your hardening length he felt a wave of nervousness and excitement coursing through him as you gently flipped him over on his back. Slowly, you began pushing into him inch by inch, “You're taking me in so well Peter, just relax for me baby, I’ll always take care of you,” you continued to praise him even as you bottomed out letting him adjust to your size

“I’m ready… you can start moving now…” he said nervously but you both knew when it came down to it he wasn’t shy about wanting your cock at all “Fuck, you feel so good,” you groaned feeling his tightness wrap around you, you began moving slowly inside of him his eyes locked in yours the entire time as you made love to him

“You’re so fucking beautiful Pete,” you added, your voice full of praise making him moan softly “I can’t believe I get to be with you like this…” Wordlessly, Peter pulled you into a passionate, heated kiss. You moaned into his mouth feeling your passion for him growing with each passing moment.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer as you continued to thrust into his sloppy hole. "Fuck, baby, you're so fucking sexy," you whispered against his lips making him whimper. "I can't get enough of you." You deepened the kiss, your tongue tangling with his. Peter’s brain turning to mush as he whispered “I love you” over and over again, against your lips

“I love you too baby, M’gonna fill you up so fucking good, gonna make you mine…” your voice thick with lust as you began to thrust harder and faster, slamming your body into his with each movement making him babble and moan loudly from your length dragging along his heat

“Come on baby, let me hear you scream,” you added with your eyes locked on his “Let me hear how much you want it.” He yelled out wordless moans, screaming for your cock so loudly there was no way the Avengers hadn’t heard you two now but neither of you cared at the moment

Your hips moved faster, fucking into him relentlessly “Gonna cum, gonna cum, f-fuck!” You felt him tighten around your hardness making you groan loudly as he screamed, your thrusts becoming sloppy as you both came together, feeling your cum gushing out of your cock filling him up, and his shooting out over his own stomach

“Feel so full…” he said breathlessly, you put a hand over his lower abdomen and pulled out, watching as his cum seeped out of his messy hole, “That was just what I needed,” he said panting and resting his head on the armrest as you chuckled and gently helped him to the shower to get you both cleaned up.

Let’s just say when you guys both came out of your room no one made eye contact and made sure to always ask you two if you were busy before bothering either of you, some of the Avengers made jokes about it (especially Tony) and every time they did Peter would groan and hide us head in his hands making you laugh

If you want more… check out my Masterlist

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supercap2319 · 5 months

Text

Nate cheated on you again unsurprisingly. It seemed he was accustomed to doing this to you. He would get mad at you and call you a whore or slut, and "break-up" with you. You would cry and promise to be a better boyfriend for him so he would take you, back, but this last time he cheated was the last straw.

He caught him and Maddy together in bed. You were devastated. Heartbroken. And disgusted. After much yelling and arguing; you told him that you were through. No more chances. You were done with Nate and his bullshit. And when he tried to put his hands on you to make you stay, you kicked him in the family jewels. Was it a dick move against your fellow guys? Yes, but Nate had it coming. You left his house as he called you names and slurs, and promised you'd be sorry for what you did.

That's when you decided to ask out the cute new guy, Danny Sullivan. You invited him to a party that you knew Nate would be at, and wanted to make him feel like he missed out on a great catch like you. The party was in full swing. Beer pong. Dancing. Music. Sex and drugs. You spotted Rue, and she gave you a nod when she saw Danny, who was dressed in dark clothes and black eyeliner.

A while later, Nate spotted you and Danny playing beer pong, and in a petty way, you gave Danny your jacket, which used to be Nate's jacket and you kissed him on the cheek when he made the last shot in beer pong. Nate's nostrils flared in anger.

Later on, you and Danny were by the pool having a cigarette and he leaned close and kissed you as you both ended up in the pool, Danny's back against the wall of the pool. Nate came out and wasn't happy at all. Seeing you with another guy. "Oh, that's real classy, you fuckin whore." People were watching you guys. Wondering what you'd say.

"Eat my vagina." You told him, still making out with Danny as everyone laughed.

#x male reader #male reader insert #euphoria #euphoria x male reader #nate jacobs #Nate Jacobs x male reader #danny sullivan #Danny Sullivan x male reader #tom holland #male x male #jacob elordi #the crowded room

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crims0nwritess · 1 year

Text

The cat rule

___________________________________________

Peter Parker x Male!Reader

___________________________________________

Summary: Tony needs Peter for a mission, unfortunately he cant go

Warnings: None

Word count: 393

___________________________________________

You were currently asleep, arms thrown around Peters neck and head resting on his chest, Peters arms were wrapped around your torso and his hands were slung up so he could run his fingers through your hair, your legs were tangled together as Peter softly pet your head and listened to your soft snores.

After a while of this, you two relaxing together quietly, Peters phone rang, in an attempt to not wake you up, Peter, in a moment of quick thinking, grabbed one of his web shooters from his nightstand and webbed his phone, that was sitting on a desk on the other side of the room, pulling it towards him and catching it expertly.

"Hello?" He asked quietly as he answered the phone.

"Hey kid, you busy?" Tony asked.

Peter looked down at the sleeping boy on his chest, he pulled the phone back up to his ear and responded.

"Not technically, why?"

"Great, I need you for a mission, me and the old man are in the city and theres a situation, a spidey situation, so get on your suit and meet me at the bank" Tony explained.

"Oooh, no can do" Peter said.

"Excuse me? I thought you said you weren't busy" Tony asked.

"Im not, but, theres another thing, Y/N is currently asleep on top of me, soooo yeah, ask someone else, pretty sure Wandas not doing anything right now" Peter said.

"I asked YOU, Y/N being asleep is not an excuse, now get your goddamn suit on and come here, now" Tony said.

"Hey, lemme ask you a question, do you know the cat rule?" Peter asked.

"The what?" Tony asked.

"The cat rule, if a cat falls asleep on you you're not allowed to move" Peter explained.

"You see, Y/N is like a cat, he hates mondays, likes cuddles, and knocks stuff off of tables, both on accident and on purpose, so, I apply the cat rule to him as well, so, legally, I cant get up and wake him up, which means, I cant help you, sorry old man"

"Peter that is not-"

"Yeah? Uh huh, sorry cant hear you, bye!" Peter said.

"PETER DO NO-" Tony said, cut off as Peter hung up and carefully set his phone on the nightstand, running his hands through Y/N's hair and smiling smugly.

#peter parker x male reader #peter x male reader #spiderman x male reader #marvel #marvel x male reader #mcu #mcu x male reader #tom holland #gay #fluff #fanfic

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fandomnerd9602 · 2 months

Note

Just the idea of Peter having Male Reader as the friend who acts gay but isn't gay and being frenemies with MJ

After patching up Peter

Ned: So we're going to head out now okay

Peter: Sure

Male Reader: Ok get well soon buddy *gives Peter a forehead kiss*

MJ: We'll see you tomorrow *Kisses Peter*

Male Reader: Wow really flexing your girlfriend privileges

MJ: Shut up your just jealous

Peter: Guys please not know I'm in pain

MJ: you’re totally gay for Peter!

Y/N: I am not!

Ned: when did this start?

Y/N: it all started when I held Peter’s hand during the movies hang out. MJ wouldn’t hold his hand so I did

MJ: I was holding my soda!

Y/N: your boyfriend needs his hand held during the movie and I stepped up. That’s called true friendship-relationship

Ned: a Bro-ship!

Y/N: thanks Ned

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #marvel incorrect quotes #incorrect marvel quotes #spider man #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x mj #peter parker x male reader #tom holland #spider man x male reader #ned #michelle jones #zendaya

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g4yforethan · 3 months

Text

new idea

pairing: peter parker x male!reader

summary: peter is sad but reader knows just the way to help him

warnings: cursing, top!reader, bottom!peter parker, reader and character are 18+

a/n: been a while since i've written so if this seems all over the place pls forgive mee

you were on your way to peter's house to finish the project you two had been assigned. he had texted you to come over but earlier in class, he looked upset and stressed. you thought you would be able to cheer him up so you brought a movie along to watch together. you arrived and rang the doorbell and aunt may opened it. “oh hi y/n! it’s been so long.” the both of you hugged. “hi aunt may! where’s peter?” she looked towards his room. “he’s in his room right now. PETER Y/N IS HERE! anyways come on in, i’m gonna go to the store and get some food. you’re welcome to stay for dinner.” “aww thank you aunt may. it’s good seeing you.” she smiled and closed the door.

“PETERR! where are youuu?” you went to open the door to his room and saw him in his bed with the covers over his head. you went over to him and removed the blanket to see his cute and soft face. “peter what’s wrong?” “nothing y/n just feeling out of it that’s all.” an idea sparked in your head and so you went over to his bed and started massaging his thigh. “thanks y/n but i don’t know if i’m in the mood right now.” peter said as he looked at you with his puppy dog eyes. you grabbed his face and stared at him in his eyes. “trust me peter this’ll make you feel better.” you leaned in and touched his sweet, soft lips. you stopped to look at him and saw him still puckering for a kiss. you laughed and he opened his eyes as his face turned red. “you look so cute like that. you want more?” “yes please.” he said in a shy voice.

you grabbed his and laid him on his back and continued kissing his face and went down towards his neck. his soft moans turned you on even more as you left hickies all over his neck and chest. "i wanna fuck you so bad." you said as you massaged his crotch. "fuck me please."peter begged for your cock as he took off his pants and underwear. you did the same and flipped peter over with his ass facing towards you. you started licking his hole and slowly putting one finger inside. peter's moans filled the room as he arched his back ready for your cock. you listened as you slowly entered his tight hole. your grabbed onto his waist and continued fucking him. each stroke you gave become stronger and faster. peter reached his hand out, begging for you to stop, but you didn't.

you flipped peter over on his back and lifted his legs up. you rubbed your fingers on his hole before putting your dick back inside of him. you fucked his hole for a few more minutes before it was time to cum. "fuck peter. i'm gonna cum." he looked at you in your eyes. "cum inside me y/n." you listened and came inside of him wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders. he rubbed your back and kissed your neck before you flipped over laying next to him. "so how do you feel now? better?" you asked him as he smiled and kissed you. "yeah of course. way better." the two of you kissed before a knock interrupted you both.

#male reader #male reader insert #malereader #gay love #gay smut #gay reader #marvel #marvel x male reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x male reader

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mlm-writer · 7 months

Text

Test Ride Pt. 2 (Peter Parker x Android!Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker (TH ver.) x Android Reader (with a robovagina) Rating: Explicit Words: 1189 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 10 - Robotfucking Note: A sequel to a piece I did for kinktober 2020. Reader is a robot and has no gender. Last time reader got a robopenis and I thought it only fair to give reader a robovagina this time. Reader's chest is unmentioned. Tags: robotfucking, unnecessary use of fancy words to make it more sci-fi, at least I don't put 'quantum' in front of everything to make it science, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, safeword ignored(?), robot tentacles as restraints, vibrating pussy, nipple play and software/hardware updates gone ' wrong'

A new HUD interface greeted you as you booted up after your last upgrade. Your physical statistics and environmental parameters were found in new places, but that mattered little. Your optics activated after a short delay, visual input now also available to you. Your creator stood before you, his lips moving, but you received no audio input. “Audio module connection failed,” you replied to whatever he said. You saw him curse, or at least that was your best prediction of what his expression conveyed. He motioned your head down. You bent at the hips, allowed him to unplug and reconnect your audio modules.

Once the cables reconnected, you could hear Peter clearly. “Please, don’t be ruined, please don’t be ruined,” he muttered to himself.

“All modules operational,” you informed him. He jumped at your voice, but let out a sigh of relief right after. “Awaiting command,” you added. As per usual after an update, Peter started poking and prodding your frame, confirming your sensory input was still operational. When he was done testing your basic functions, he dragged you to his bed.

“Program D.O.M. version V, please,” he spoke nervously. You detected an increase in heart rate and blood flow to the genitals. You confirmed the break command, as it was standard protocol, before you could execute the D.O.M. program. Once the safety protocols were satisfied, you had your digits on Peter’s clothes. You unbuttoned his flannel, revealing his pale chest underneath. There was minor bruising, but a quick scan revealed no serious injuries that were contraindications to the program. You pushed him onto the bed and started running your tongue over his chest, paying extra attention to his nipples.

Peter whimpered as you played with his chest, artificial tongue and teeth taking turns with your digits pinching his sensitive nubs. You kept track of his arousal, only stopping your onslaught once his involuntary noises got a little louder. You sat up, retracting your pelvic panel and rubbing your wet hole over Peter’s crotch. He whined as you slowly soaked through his jeans and underwear, until he could feel your wetness on his cock through his clothes. “Please, I need to be inside you,” Peter eventually moaned, his mind tethering on the edge of madness.

He was hard underneath you, so you deemed him ready for the next stage. With superhuman deftness, you removed his clothes until he was naked on the bed. His cock protruded from his body, the tip red and leaking. You wrapped a servo around his rod, stroking slowly as to tease him. When he started thrusting into the tightness, you placed your other servo on his hip, your mechanical strength counteracting his. He was forced to only take what you gave, which was exactly what he programmed you to give. It was not enough to get him even remotely close to orgasm, but the build-up was perfect to make him start begging. Once the begging got frequent enough, you proceeded on to the next stage; you mounted him, letting his cock slide into your wet and soft hole. Peter moaned, his eyes rolling back as you rode him at a decent pace. “Please, give me more, I’ve been good. I will be even better, I swear.”

His moans filled the room. You took his dick all the way inside and paused on top of him. “I will grant you more. However, unpermitted orgasms will be reciprocated with punishment.” He nodded, promising he would not cum. You decreased the elasticity of your inner walls, giving him a tighter squeeze as you proceeded to ride him. Your movements were quicker than before, fully intending to make him cum without permission. Peter was moaning to the ceiling, eyes squeezed closed sometimes and other times wide open. His mouth stayed wide open, tongue peeking over his lower lip.

Just as predicted, your inner sensors detected his cum painting your inner workings. You rode him until the spurts seized. Then you planted yourself firmly on him. Tendrils extended from your body and wrapped around his appendages. “You have disobeyed my orders,” you stated as you held him down and turned on the vibrations of your inner walls. Peter wailed as his sensitive cock was forced to endure the intense vibrations. He writhed against your restraints, but not even his super strength could remove you. Just like he had begged you before to fuck him, he was now begging for your mercy. You bent your upper body, putting a servo around his throat. You put a little pressure on the blood vessels below his jaw. Tears poured down Peter’s eyes as you forced a second orgasm out of him. You detected more cum inside you as he cried out.

After his second orgasm, you ran a scan on him, the analysis showing that he had enough. You removed your servo from his throat and turned off the stimulation or at least… attempted to. “Error: deprecated code, V-module unresponsive.” You stated, your tendrils no longer retracting and your hole vibrating on and on.

“What?” Peter exclaimed, clearly in panic. You ran a diagnostic check, your hole trying to reboot by first ramping the vibrations all the way up, so it could be brought down again. Peter screamed during the process, his brain unable to process the stimulation.

The tactic worked fine, but the module got stuck again at the same level of vibrations you started at. “Tendril module interfering with V-module. Attempting tendril reboot.” Peter did not perceive a word you said. As the tendrils rebooted, they lifted up a little, Peter’s body now hanging in the air except for his pelvis, where you still sat, vibrating his cock.

Peter cried, feeling like his brain had melted away from the intense pleasure. “Stark! Stark!” He screamed the break command. You tried to terminate the program immediately, but the backlog of reboots and diagnostic checks made it impossible. Your creator, against your predictions, came again, barely a drop of cum leaving him. He kept screaming, trying to get through to you. Just after his third orgasm, you regained control of the tendrils. In a flash, they were retracted and you uncoupled the module for now.

Peter’s cock was gradually turning limp inside of you. The poor boy was hoarse from screaming. Without the tendrils, you regained full control, the vibrations stopping instantly. “Thank you, thank you,” Peter whispered over and over as you lifted your frame off him.

“Program D.O.M. paused,” you stated, “do you wish to continue after a delay or shall I proceed with aftercare protocols?”

Peter laid starfish-style on the bed. His chest was heaving. He could use some aftercare, but it was hard to trust you right now. “Terminate the program all together,” he groaned, “initiate shutdown.” A second later, he was met with the sound of your vents shutting down and your pelvic plate closing to protect what was behind it. He was left in silence. As far as updates went, it still wasn’t as bad as that time Windows went from XP to Vista. He counted it as a win.

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure!A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

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qsphyxias · 4 months

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idk if your requests are open but i was wondering if you could write a (tom)peter parker x male reader fluff because i really enjoyed the other ones that you have written 🫶🫶🫶🫶 much love

if you read yaoi and/or bl regularly as a woman, get the fuck out of here!

synopsis ; peter parker x male! reader

warnings ; male (he/him) reader, cussing, (tom holland) peter parker, established relationship

note ; love me some classic peter parker fanfiction - and thank u for requesting!! not sure how long this has been sitting here for whoops

words ; 0.8k +

"Hey, boyfriend." You snickered, hanging your head over him. Multiple strands of hair followed your sudden movement — blocking your view of him, or rather, his view of you.

He looked up at your face and pushed the strands of your hair to the side of your face without thinking much of it. The smile he beamed right back at you made you feel as if he was trying to move away curtains that revealed a most breathtaking view — you, his wonderful boyfriend.

As cheesy as it sounded, the way you looked at him and leaned down made his mind play one of the most righteous theme songs of the Star Wars trilogy. The feeling of your face against his hand, the desire to just hold you and never let go, the heat of his blood rushing everywhere, it was scary. Peter could hardly think straight when you let a small smile shine through your expression, where was he supposed to look? What was he supposed to touch?

As if on instinct, Peter's hands that were once placed on either side of him on the bed, took action and slid up your waist to gain a little bit more control once he saw you close the distance a bit more by resting on your elbows instead of your palms when hovering over Peter.

His grip caught you by surprise, who knew he could be so initiating?

"Is... Is that okay?" He murmured, watching your expression, terrified he was maybe too assertive this time.

He already went through this struggle with where to touch, back when he thought he only liked girls — but now, it's different. Despite all those experiences, It's like he had to relearn everything about the boyfriend world. It's not the same, because this time, he's the one with the boyfriend, not so much the one having to worry about his role as the only boyfriend in the relationship.

And Peter really doesn't want to fuck it up with his boyfriend.

To his shock and awe, you snorted, dismissing all his worries with one single breath.

"Peter, your heart's made of pure gold, isn't it?" You sighed as you fully relaxed into your new boyfriend's arms, letting your arms slide underneath the small of his back and lock softly.

With your eyes closed, and ear against his heart, Peter could comfortably wear his expression of pure exasperation as he settled into your embrace — not having to worry about you reading his face.

"Uh," Peter leaned his head back against the pillows to think, causing his throat to relax under the pressure of gravity — producing a scratchy tone in his larynx, once could only describe it as infatuation-inducing. "Well, maybe. I mean, I let you be my boyfriend, didn't I? I must be a saint!" He joked, a complete 180 to his previous attitude as he attempted to lighten the heavy romantic tension. A smile adorned his face with ease as he looked down at you for a (hopefully) good reaction.

You opened your eyes to playfully glare at him, "I take back what I said; your heart's made of pure lego — it's completely evident."

Peter feigned offence, "Hey, what makes you say that?" getting a bit more comfortable, he rolled over to face you instead of having to crane his neck down, keeping his hands flush against your back throughout.

"The way your joints click and clack, the way you get all stiff and plastic-like when you get nervous, the way you're practically indestructible — not to mention how much space you allow Lego Star Wars to take up in your heart; there's lots of things, Peter. " You laughed near the end of your mini-speech, fiddling with the the collar of Peter's shirt right in front of your point of view.

"And hey, you're basically built like Lego Batman with those 12-pack abs. Not that I'm complaining..." Peter flushed at the blatant flirt directed at his body.

"I did not come here today to be berated, s/o." Peter chose to ignore the last thing you said, "and I do not get 'plastic-like' when I'm nervous." Peter frowned, to which you chuckled.

"You came here because you missed me, be honest." You corrected.

"Well... Yeah, but you don't have to say it out loud." He mumbled, his shy expression breaking into a grin when he saw you smile first.

"Why not? it's true, isn't it?" You closed the distance between the two of you even more, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, lips-to....

Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned up to kiss him, shuddering when you felt his hand rub your back with a gentle force, pulling you impossibly closer to him to fully close the distance.

As the two of you kissed, Peter held you close and vowed to himself in his head, to always protect you. Because to protect you, means he'd be protecting precious moments like these.

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nowayspidey · 6 months

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The beetle x The spider.

(Peter Parker x Male!Reader!blue beetle.)

Your ass was on fire. Literally. Burning sensation all over your back along with a throbbing pain that only intensified more and more as soon as you got to the room. Or better said; fell on the room, rolling on the cold floor. Chest rising and falling with no signs of stopping a frantic breathing. Or maybe because Peter let go of you to run and close all the windows in the apartment.

'What's all that sound?' A feminine voice followed Peter steps as he returned with a panicked expression to the room, standing next to you.

That's when you experienced one of the most embarrassing moments in front of your mother-in-law's figure. Peter had slipped the suit off his body, and you.... almost the same. Peter was in his boxers while your's were revealed on the part of your butt. You had gotten up and were on your back checking for injuries. Peter's hand hit your back, catching your attention.

"WHAT?!?!" You snapped angrily.

And yes, you were angry with him. But your anger had blinded you the fact that you were showing your ass to May Parker and Happy Hogan who were now standing at the door-room frame.

'What's going on....? (M/n)..? Can you-- can both of youput on some clothes right now and explain to us what's going on?'

'Yes. May.' Both of you said in unision.

'I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that beetle embedded in your back (M/c).' Happy had an expression between disgust and curiosity.

'I know. It's unpleasant. But she's sensitive so let's try not to say it out loud.'

But nevertheless, you spoke again first.

'Peter decided to trust a complete stranger on the trip to Italy and NOW after trying to kill us, he revealed our identities!'

'(M/c)!' Peter hissed. He had heard your complaints since you boarded Happy's jet in that tulip field that day on the netherlands.

The two of you had a complicated "relationship."

'Just telling the truth.' You answered, almost eating him with your eyes as you remembered everything that happened in Italy and London.

You spat out the words like venom as you dressed in blue pajama pants and a Hello Kitty shirt you found in Peter's closet.

Helicopters surrounded the building. You ran to the living room in your Hello Kitty pajamas to find every news channel the revelation that Quentin Beck had recorded.

'This is bad. Really bad.' You murmured.

'This is a shithole.' The voice of the beetle responded.

'Yes it is.' You ran a hand through your hair.

Authors note: i know i took a looong break from writing. But im better (mentally) now and back on trying to write more m/c fics!♡

This is a small series i have planned base on no way home movie x blue beetle movie!!! Also, If you want jaime reyes fics you can drop request at my box ;)

#male reader #male!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland #tom holland one shot #writing inspiration #angst prompts #tomhollandmale!reader #peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker male reader #peter parker male!reader #blue beetle male!reader #jaime reyes male!reader #marvel male reader #x male reader #xolo maridueña one shots #peter parker oneshot

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clarks-letterman · 1 year

Text

lost in reality | perv!peter parker x gender-neutral!reader

a/n — this is not what i usually post! there was going to be more smut but i didn't know how far to go with it, so if anyone wants to see something more extended, let me know! (Peter is a bit of a perv in this but i tried to make him get his comeuppance) gender-neutral, i think

warnings — smut! 18+, some brief facefucking, gore (sorta mild, but don't read if you don't like it!)

summary — Peter uses the reality stone to practice his pickup skills. With such a powerful device at his disposal, what could go wrong?

words — 3.7k

~~~

A mesh of red and blue ambled to the quarters of the Avenger's compound. No rush nor worry affected Peter as he kept one foot light over the other, heading into each step, furthering him down the hallway. It was another neighborhood saved and another day where he would be free from the thoughts of letting his powers go to waste, and his life could finally regress into normalcy for the start of the new day. While he had a kick in his step from how smoothly the night had gone—and how much his mentor acknowledged the fact—Peter felt the need for something a little more caffeinated to help him instead.

As Peter returned from his latest venture, taking no rush to get to his room, you were on your way out of the resident android's room. In your hand, a pad of Stark Industries-branded notepad paper with all but one of the Avengers' coffee orders scribbled down filled it. You would not be in Vision's room with the question of coffee being the reason, something he was physically incapable of drinking, but Wanda frequented the room, and it was likely that she was in there. You were right to assume that, and now, you planned to check the door just further down the hall to see if Peter was around.

It turned out that you did not need to go far; the bright colors of his suit caught your eye the second you stepped out into the corridor. Anything resembling Peter's mood of being on top of the world was gone, and so was that little kick that pushed him further—you could almost see him lose it in his eyes once he saw you, even from afar. You approached him with one thing on your mind, the pen and paper used to record everyone's order at the ready.

"He-," he cleared his throat before lowering the pitch of his voice, "Hey."

There was an awkward silence between the following words until you reminded him by tapping your pen to the side of the notepad to draw his attention to it and speaking up, "Your order?"

"What?" He was already blowing it. Peter glanced down to his red-spandex feet and then back to you, his voice returning to its natural pitch, "Oh, yeah, uh—"

Peter paused. He realized he did not know what he wanted, and while you found the evident attempt to appear cool somewhat endearing, you could have already been heading out to get coffee for everyone by now. Almost by reflex, you started to tap the pen against the nearly completed list of coffee orders ranging from simple menu items to oddly specific modifications to non-existent drinks. And in seconds, the pen slipped from your grasp and unceremoniously landed on the laminate of the hallway floor.

"Shit," you reached down to grab the ballpoint, but Peter stopped you.

"I'll get it."

He attempted to bend over, only to find his hand stuck to the wall. Peter quickly stood straight, subtly tugging his hand away from the wall without tearing a new hand-shaped hole in the plaster and paint. In his panic, Peter's hand stuck itself to the wall, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away from it, his hand wouldn't budge. That left you to get the dropped pen, reaching for it without the trouble of spider-centric powers messing with you.

You looked to Peter, scribbling down his name next to Tony's order, "I'll just get you what Tony gets and leave you alone with your hand. See you later, Peter."

With that, Peter was left alone and sufficiently embarrassed as you strode down the hall, and, finally, his hand let him free once you were gone. He scuttled to his room in a bout of shame and locked the door, heading to his mirror with a plan to practice asking you out. It was a simple mirror resting on the opposite side of the wall that had betrayed him, even if it was an inanimate object that could neither sway nor influence his spider abilities. He planned on using the reflective rectangular sheet as a stand-in for you but decided to change himself into something that didn't remind him of the awkward encounter he had moments ago.

Now, he stared at himself in the length of the full-body mirror, dressed in a tee sporting Midtown's gold and navy-blue colors and a simple pair of beige cargo pants. It was more on your level, casual clothes that were unlike the striking symbolism of his superhero suit. Peter hoped it would make him feel more comfortable talking to you, as he wouldn't discern the need to be perfect in everything he does around you. He could be Peter.

The first words he spoke to himself in the mirror were natural, not meant to sound broody or cool. It was how he usually talked: voice cracks and diffidence-galore, "Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to swing me to get coffee with you?"

Peter realized his slip-up and started the question over again.

"Oh my God, that's so funny that you get coffee!" He placed a hand over his chest with a fake smile to match, "I love caffeine and wanted to know if you would drink me. I mean, drink it with me?"

“Hey, I was just in the neighborhood—saving it, and all. Coffee, you-me? Then, we could come back here for. . .” He paused, knowing that he could never be that smug with you—he could barely get his powers to work! How would the Parker-Charm not blow up on ignition? “Okay, dial it back, Pete.”

"I'm hopeless," Peter let his head fall, staring at the floor. He could hardly watch himself fumble in the mirror, but the glint of a red sheen in the mirror pulled him back—the reality stone, sitting on one of the few bookshelves resting against the walls of his room. This one housed various meticulously assembled Star Wars-themed Lego sets, and the stone quickly became an amenity on the set of Boba Fett's Starship. Could he use it for this, of all things? If he did use it, it would only be for a couple of minutes. For practice, he told himself.

Many people would probably ask why a teenager would have one of the most mighty pieces of rock sitting on a shelf in his bedroom, and well, Peter wouldn't know the answer himself as to why he was allowed to keep it. According to Tony, he was a good kid, and the rest of the team knew he wouldn't use it for anything malicious, like obliterating half of all human existence. So, it was a souvenir, a relic that Peter never utilized for anything apart from letting it be some seriously cool decor and a piece he constantly bragged about to his only two friends.

He turned away from the mirror, retrieved the stone from its entrapment in the plastic bricks, and returned to his full-length reflection. The jagged edges dug into the soft inside of his palm in retaliation to the pressure as he squeezed it with a closed fist. With a single thought—one that held details of nearly everything about you—a soft ring of smoke formed a couple of feet away from him on the carpet. His heart thrummed as it quickly moved upward, revealing your form as it went. After a few moments, the puff of smoke faded as it rounded your head, topping off the manifested version of yourself.

Nothing could compare to the real you, but this was close.

The imagined version of you standing before Peter looked like the spitting image of you, almost to the point where, if dressed the same, it would be impossible to tell the two of you apart. Almost. But, there was one thing that let Peter tell the visually deceitful version of you apart from the real one: he couldn't hear a heartbeat. He figured that, while you looked the same on the outside, the inside was missing a few vital features of the real you.

Regardless, Peter struggled to remember that information since your lesser interpretation was still stunning enough to make his heart sink into the never-ending pit in his stomach. His feelings got the better of him, and Peter started his practice in err from the moment he opened his mouth.

He held the stone tight, waving his other hand to you, "Hey—hi, do you know who I am?"

"Yeah, you're Peter." You stated it as if he should have known that already, and he noted it. From what he could tell, you had at least some part of the memory of your actual self, so maybe this version of you could provide an accurate reaction to asking you to get coffee with him.

"Okay, cool. Cool. Yeah, that's. . . cool," Peter trailed.

"Why do you keep saying cool?"

The only problem was that you were real. Unduly real. Down to the slightest mannerisms that anyone but Peter would be able to catch when they spent time with you, and with your stunning looks and perfect quirks brought about by the stone, Peter could remember everything about you. He could hardly hear the absence of your heartbeat from his' sonority, ultimately distracting himself from his original intent.

"So, what did you wanna ask me?"

"You. . . you ask a lot of questions. But, I wanted to know if you could—"

Peter was finally going to get the words out, albeit to someone who was only pretending to be you. He wouldn't have to worry about finishing that project he procrastinated on—this would be his big success of the day. But his web-shooter had gone off erroneously across the room, spraying against the walls and pouring onto the floor from its canister. He jumped away from the source and nearly dropped the stone in the process.

Peter's mind was fleeting, even his rehearsal was going wrong, and he immediately thought of an old trick for speaking to people that he hadn't needed since a young age—he imagined you in your underwear. He didn't mean for it to happen, but if he thought it, the stone made it a reality for as long as he held the little rock. He watched as a red puff of smoke took your clothes into the air, vanishing from your body in less than a second. Underneath, a simple pair of boxer briefs clung to your nether region. Maybe it wasn’t all about the practice to Peter. His mind had thought of this, so it couldn't be that bad to indulge in it.

"Could you come over here?" He asked, throat dry. He needed to feel you to confirm he had not gone completely insane from one too many hits on the head. Peter defeatedly took a few steps to his bed, sitting down on the edge of it. "Please?"

His heart pounded with each step you took, accepting his wish to draw near. Peter could not help but watch your vulnerability follow ostensibly close behind. In just one beat, you stood directly in front of him. He watched your knees rise and fall on either side of his legs as you sat on his thighs. Peter felt the warmth of your presence, the surprising weight of you on his hairless and sinewy thighs, even if you were empty inside.

Peter was bristling, brown eyes wandering over your exposed form. His body felt immovable, no matter how much he wished to drop the stone and watch you vanish. His head was the only thing not to freeze, the rest of his body turning into a well-sculpted monolith. His jaw moved with a bit of tension, "I didn't ask you to do it like this."

"No, but you thought it."

"How did you. . . ?"

"You thought that, too."

Peter realized that he was practically having a conversation with himself, just through the guise of your face. The details became more apparent; the color of your eyes, the set of your mouth, and the same smile lines appeared as he thought about its utter perfection. He connected that now, asking you to come closer only worsened his issue. Your presence over his prominent bulge made it push the limits of its cotton confines. Slowly, his marble arm broke from his reserved mold, and an empty hand cupped your cheek the same way he had always thought about doing it. He would use both, but one was occupied with creating his living dream. Then his hand slid away and around to the back of your neck, your hair brushing his chewed fingernails and overly scraped knuckles.

He knew that guiding you into the kiss was redundant as he could think about it, but this was far more passionate. As he brought you close, the thought of your smell and the feeling of hot breath joining in concordant timing against each other's skin started to fill his head. At the touch of your lips to his, Peter kissed like someone who had nothing to lose. Like he didn't have the responsibility of seeming to have it all together placed foremost. Like he could be a needy and desperate mess for more than a passing swing around New York. Only now, and only because of you.

His impetuous thinking decided that taking care of his problem now would mean that he could resolve everything else later. He needed to take care of it now; it was the only thought running through his head. Desire.

Breaking away, Peter silently commanded you to slide off your boxers and get on your knees. He caught a glimpse of you as you followed his direction, surprised by how his mind subconsciously filled in the gaps for everything he had never seen.

Your hands worked in a way that left their presence unknown until they were hooked into the band of his boxers, easily tugging down on the well-worn stitching to free Peter's springy dick. He watched your eyes ogle it and how you took it into your hand without a second thought, and while he filled your hand well, he couldn't help but think about his inadequacy. He had seen his teammates' sizes after sharing training sessions with them. Not that he was looking on purpose, but mostly out of insecurity. Peter already paled in comparison to the heights and builds of the others, and while he was far from small, they didn't make him look all that great. Peter started to wonder if the stone affected him in the same way it did you.

With a single thought, he decided to test it. He watched his shaft grow bigger and chub up with a thicker girth. Your hand could barely wrap around it as it had with his true size. It felt like an innocuous veneer to gaining the confidence that he never had. As a result, he was eager to get you on him and make you squirm like one of the criminals he spun webs around.

In seconds, your lips formed an imperfect circle and took the head of the arachnid, and the rest of him, as if it were nothing. Your lips brushed his decent smattering of hair around the base of his cock without convulsion. This version of you had a throat that fit around him like a cock-sleeve, hugging his girth without any of the need for restraint.

"No gag reflex? This is better than any toy I ever made."

Peter's hands found their way back to the rear of your head, controlling the pace at which you took him for his own pleasure. The sheer feeling of something far better than lubed-up rubber made him go wild.

At a certain point, he couldn't remember when his mind started to break reality further than he thought until he was suddenly yanked back to it. Peter started to feel effervescent guilt towards his actions. This is what he wanted, but not how he wanted to get it. Quickly, Peter felt the heavy weight on his chest return, the need to right himself by putting an end to this. He hated that he changed himself to impress something that wasn't even you. He wondered what his mentor would think, what you would think, or how you would react. A small shift inside him sent that weight toward his hand, the one he held the stone in, and it went from its dormant glim keeping the illusion alive to a bright shine, creating something new.

"Get off, get off, please," Peter asked, thinking the words in his head as hard as he could to free himself from his twisted fantasy. You let his stiff, unrelieved dick pop out of your mouth and got off your knees.

"What's wrong, Peter?" He had thought that, too. What was wrong with him?

He could barely stand to face you, but he needed to acknowledge you to make you leave. When he did work up the nerve to look in your direction, the guilt glared back at him. He felt like a creepy monster for even thinking it was a good idea to give in to his urges. The feeling overtook him so much that he didn't even realize your gradual change.

At first, it was your face. The pleasureful expression turned into a sour one, eyebrows funneling together and your upper lip upturned. But, the features of your face pressed forward as if they were made of putty and someone was trying to claw their way out. They stretched out and ballooned until they burst, leaving you headless. Your body went without a head for a few seconds before the more seasoned details of his mentor formed in your absence.

He kept his hand flat, wicking it away from his body and the rest of his arm with the hope that the stone would fall off, but his powers had already made that choice for him. Then, he thought of his suit, his web-shooters, and the communicator that could signal Tony. If he drew attention to the issue, it would resolve itself, but could he successfully explain everything as if it were the typical morning paper arriving at the doorstep? He could try, or at the very least, lie. But that would never solve this issue, though, not in the long run.

Peter formed a mental map of the fastest route to his closet in his head and decided that his backup web-shooters might be strong enough to hold the illusion down and give him time to pry the stone from his nonreciprocating palm. He turned, locking eyes with the monster as it started changing again.

Peter looked on in horror, the stone shining its brightest and shading the monster in terrifying red like a stop sign you see at the last minute when your heart sinks at the thought of being crushed. The soft tear of wet, stretching flesh and its stringy reformation flushed his ears as the beast before him grew. The harsh snap and sound of bones splintering from the fattening weight pierced his sensitive ears; nothing new to him at this point in his life, but he had never heard so many cracks and gushing wounds. Yet, through all the bodily changes, Peter never broke his stare with the amalgamation of his worst thoughts. Its eyes never left him, either. The cold and frighteningly dead stare of non-existent emotion didn't phase him until he heard a heartbeat, one that he believed came from the creature itself.

However, it wasn't the monster's—it was yours, heavy-thudded blood-pumping. The real you and your usually pleasant voice calling for his response. From the other side of the door, he heard you pleading for him to answer and affirm that he was okay. He figured that you must have overheard his distress and the ensuing raucous.

Peter reached for the stone but stopped. Everything was gone. His suit still sat in a messy pile on the floor, but the webbing was gone from the walls. The stain on the carpet was no longer there, and his pants were the only thing absent from his body, but nothing left the confines of his boxers. Had all of it really been in his head?

He quickly answered the door without any precaution, seeing your face still intact.

"Hey, I got you something different than Tony's. I was in line and remembered when you drank out of his cup by mistake and spat it all over the counter. Are you okay? I thought I heard a girl screaming."

“Thank you, and it wasn't a. . . never mind. Do you want to come in and hang?”

“Yeah! But get some pants on first, Spidey. I can't have my thoughts get to me.”

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myfeetkeepdancing · 2 years

Text

gif credit: @fassbender

NSFW 18+ NSFW 18+ NSFW 18+

Nathan Drake x Male Reader

Watching someone sleep is an odd experience. When it's a loved one, it's often relaxing, enticing, or a mix of both. An enemy is something different. That element of surprise and growing anticipation of their reaction. That look on their face. A plan finally bearing its fruit. With Nathan, it's a bit of both. Love and hate. An unusual blend. Yet since that last encounter was an exhilarating one. A sort of cat and mouse game. But with different stakes. And strange traditions to grow.

Nathan wasn't easy to find. False names, untraceable transactions, phone calls, and IP addresses. You name it. It took a great deal of your resources and time. But revenge is a dish best served unsuspected.

Nathan sure had spent his money well. The luxurious villa beside the sea was spacious and comfortable. Large windows open up to an ocean-wide view—sunrise over a clear blue sea. The curtains sway with the slightest breeze coming from the windows. While you slowly opened the wooden blinds, rays of sunshine poured into the bedroom. You can already feel the warmth glowing in the room. From a chair far on the opposite side of the room you watch.

Observe the beams of sunlight shining upon the contours of Nathan's body. You can hear him breathing. And yourself. The ruffle of palm trees. The crashing of waves on the beach. For a brief moment, you feel at ease. Calmed by the sounds. But the slightest motion of Nathan keeps you sharp. This was one of the more pleasant ways to wake up, you remind yourself as you recount all the other options.

It takes a good moment for Nathan to awake from his slumber. His brown hair sat curly and ruffled. Classic case of bed hair. You hear him mumble something. And your heart begins racing. Whatever happens next is crucial. Nathan lay on his back. Snoring a little, licking his lips. As he slowly began to wake up. The sun shone directly in his eyes. He seemed at ease and at peace. His chest rose and fell as he breathed slowly. Planting both arms beside him, Nathan pulled himself up, revealing that muscled naked torso. Eyes staring at the blinds. "Morning Nathan." You announce yourself. And his eyes shoot wide open in your direction.

"Wh-...?!" Nathan rocked forward. But a rope on his right hand tightened and yanked him back as viciously as he tried to jump you. "(Y/N)?!" Looking back and forth between the rope and you. "How the hell did you find me?" Nathan desperately searched for the end of the rope which he found tied to the bed. "What's going on? W-What… are you doing here?" Each pull he gave on the rope tightened the knot further and pulled his arm up towards the backboard.

"Good morning to you too, Nathan." And get up from the chair. You take a slow walk to the bed. Stretch out the inevitable. Let Nathan give a false idea of hope. That he has options. "You're not easy to find." Eyeing the views for a moment. "Nice place, though. Shoulda… send a card." Giving him a wink.

"Haha… Yeah. I… eh, I will." He rolled from one side of the bed to the other. Trying to reach anything. "So… eh, to what do I owe this visit?"

"I was thinking how I would call that on my way here. Seeing that we… owe our lives to each other-..." You stand in the middle of the room. Watching Nathan effortlessly fail and try everything. "...-I wanted to introduce a tradition… something which you started."

"Oh no…" He chuckles nervously. "Is that why I'm bound by rope?"

"Certainly." Rubbing your hands together eagerly. "I learned a few tricks since our last encounter."

Nathan's right hand now sat flush against the headboard of the bed. Knot completely locked up. "For a second I thought you were here for a share of my treasure." He said, tilting his head to the side. "I heard you… blew quite the sum."

"I'm still baffled that you could press that button. Knowing I was in there." Crossing your arms, thinking back about that last encounter. Shaking your head in disbelief. "And people keep thinking I blew up my 'brand new' house for insurance money."

"I knew you'd survive." Nathan shrugged and smiled thinly.

"That may be the kindest thing you have ever said to me."

"I'm full of surprises." He winks back. "How about you? What'd you have planned for me?" Scanning the room carefully and thoroughly. "Is there a bomb…?"

"Nah… I'll leave something for next time." The steel watch on your wrist, one size too large on the bracelet gets Nathan's attention quite quickly. "Wouldn't wanna risk blowing it all in one encounter. I like a good… build-up."

"C'mon (Y/N)!" Nathan darted up but was reminded by the knot as he was pulled back again. "Nnngh-Not the watch! Please!"

"Good taste." Flaunting the steel sports watch in the light. It looked expensive and sure was. With a bit of play on the bracelet, you discard it to the table aside. A sigh of relief was heard from Nathan. That wouldn't be the first this morning you chuckle to yourself.

"I'll warn you." He held up a finger to you as you approached the bed. "Even with one arm bound, I can still take you."

"I believe you. I have bruises that prove that much." You say and take seat at the far end of the bed. "You know, you really get to know someone once you've been in their bedroom." With a finger, you slowly peel back the sheets. Taking a peek underneath. You've already seen it. But the theatrical aspect of it all was worth it so much. "Somehow, I imagined you to sleep naked, Nathan."

"I think you're confused between imagining and fantasizing." He sniffled, leaning a bit towards you. This smirk on his face. "Let me guess, you took your chance and nicked one of my undies, didn't you?" Whispering in his hushed voice. Smirk ever-growing.

"I don't know until what time morning wood is a valid excuse…" The slow reveal of what was underneath the sheets was ruined by Nathan. Rolling onto his hip. Trying to occupy himself with the ever-tightening knot. Giving you the rear view. The black shorts masked a beautifully full-shaped pair of buttocks. His back still showed vague hints of bruises. "But I think that ship has sailed. Damn…"

"Shut up… At least gimme a hint." He said with a hint of challenge in his voice and a playful glint in his eyes. Meanwhile, he was trying to pry loose the knot on his wrist, to no avail. Its purpose is to restrain and keep hold. "How does it work? What's the game here?"

"Spare your energy." And pull a blade from your backpocket. "The only way out of that knot is with a knife. Trust me on that." A sense of calm returned to Nathan as he let that sink in.

"How's the head?" He asked after a moment of silence. "Still having trouble sleeping?"

You nod and face away. Nathan's clothes lay draped over the chair. His gun nearby. You emptied it beforehand. As far as you're aware, there weren't any bullets around. Nor knives. Except for the one you were holding. "Your bomb was one of the reasons."

"I'm sorry. I saw the reports." He said quietly. "Want me to put a kiss to it… if you… untie me that is."

"Something that shuts you up wouldn't hurt for the next part… or any really." And move to the other side of his bed. The one free arm still fighting to free the other. Nathan watches you with distrust. Eyes widening as the second knot came into view. "Pretty please…" And command rather than ask. "Your hand."

"What are y-…" Nathan chuckled and let his head hang in defeat as he didn't finish his sentence. Accepting whatever came next as he offered his hand. With quick work you slip the not over and tighten it. Pulling Nathan up against the headboard. Both arms restrained. "Fuckin' hell…" A red blush shot over his cheeks. "W-What… What are you going to do…?"

"I believe you're familiar with these kinds of situations." Patting him playfully on the cheek. "Don't worry." Giving a small kiss to his lips. "It's going to be fun."

"You're such a fucking tease." He scoffs playfully as you pull back just in time for him to kiss you back. "If I'd known…"

"Oh, I know..." Slowly feeling up those thick muscly thighs of his. "Surprise is… part of the fun… we're about to have."

"I could strangle you with those." He offers, not resisting your teasing temptations along his thighs. "If you're into that."

"And I once again believe you." Patting his thighs. "For now, put it on your list. Who knows when… and… if we might run into each other…" Slowly letting your hands glide along his thighs and up to his pelvis. The black shorts didn't lie. A forceful strain was working against it. A cock bulged in all its glory into the fabric.

"You bet we will..." He breathed heavily. "You bet…." Chest rising and falling as he watched eagerly with anticipation.

"I… already… look… forward… to… it." With each word you pressed a kiss to his thigh, gently working inwards. Finishing the last kiss on his stomach. Inches above his underwear while keeping intimate eye contact.

With a sudden move, he throws his legs around your neck. It's rather violent as his feet skid against the back of your head. The motion pulls you in further. Locking you inside his powerful muscles and his pelvis. You anticipated it, and let it happen. "No shoes... on the bed." Nathan smiles as he struggles to maintain the hold on you. The blood he needed so desperately in the muscles was clearly pumped somewhere else. His strength faltered with each fleeting second. If you'd let him, he could flip you over. Seat himself on top of you. And work from there on out.

But his body didn't cooperate. The pressure his muscles exerted on you began to slip. His situation was lost the moment he realized you still have your hands free. He eyes your movement, as one hand cradles his hips. The other reaches behind your back. "Careful now…" And slowly reveal a knife. "This'll set you free."

"Don't you-…" Nathan stuttered and sucked in this nervous breath. Loosening the strain in his muscles. Giving you more freedom of movement. But still close. Very close. "Hold on!" He exclaimed as he breathed heavily, watching you glide the knife's edge along the ridges of his abs. Trying to control his breathing as the point slid from hill to valley across his six-pack. "F-F-Fuck." With little to no pressure on it, you only leave Nathan shuddering and hairs rising on his body. "Y-You know what you're doing…? Right?"

Nathan tried to stay still, control himself as much as possible, as you let the blade bite into the fabric of his underwear. "Do you…?"

The band of his underwear is tight. The blade sharp. The point lethal. Cautiously you let it dance across the fabric. Small strands already began to tear and rip with the slightest pressure. His legs merely dangle across your back. Nathan had surrendered his position to you. Watching you. "C-Carefull… with the… j-jewels." He stammered as he watched the blade slide along his length. The tense and dense strained fabric being the only protection. Small holes begin to tear and from on places where you had stroked the blade along.

"Stay still." With a further warning, you slip the point under the sleeve on his right leg. Nathan froze as the cold steel picked his skin. Wedged between his skin and the black underwear, you begin to work upwards. With each inch you move upwards the bigger Nathan's eyes grow. Holding his breath. A mix of fear and anticipation washed over his face as the blade moved up. Separating the fabric on the sharpest edge. Revealing more skin. More of his cock.

What remains is the band at the top, holding it all together. With the slightest pressure on the inside, the tight band gives way. With a snap it and a sigh of relief it pops into view. Long and girthy. Tall and proud. Nathan's cock.

"You're already breathless." And grin to yourself at your success. Gently putting the knife aside on the mattress. Nathan's eyes dart back and forth. There's not a chance he's able to use it. And he knows it. "Safety first." Mouthing the words as you went down.

Slow and tantalizingly, you let your tongue connect to the underside. Nathan's attention is all yours as you feel the rippling veins glide along your tongue. All the way to the top. His cockhead glistened in anticipation. The look on Nathan's face. His eyes begging you. "-...and I haven't even started."

Tilting your head sideways, you begin kissing the underside again. Slowly letting your lips catch the ridges and wet the deeper crevices. It twitches at your careful touches. Hardening even further. Skin tight and hard under your lips. He's yours, you have to remind yourself. Working up and down several times makes Nathan weak. His legs, as muscled and rugged as they are, you lower them to the mattress. "At… least take something off." Nathan pleaded. "Let me have that."

You love the tone Nathan pleaded. That submissive tone as he hung tied to the bed. Cock rock hard. Pleading for you. Rather than taking in the image of his muscled figure, bound and begging. You let your lips and tongue explore. Feel it. Caress it. Worship almost. That heaving chest rose and fell as you began your journey on the highs and lows of his sixpack. Nustling your nose along the lines as well as your lips. Your tongue tasting it. The discolored skin, the bruises, the groan and moans as you felt it all. With his firm round pecs, those nipples. Hard and ready. This high up already, you feel your body pressed into his. Cock to cock. Trailing the lines of his chest and pecs up to his collarbone. Nathan won't stop you. Won't fight you. Working your way along his neck and up, meeting you with his lips. Fierce and wanting. "It's already warm enough for you… isn't it?"

"You… really upped the game." He grinned, watching you move back to where you began—surprised by the feel of a pillow being propped under his ass.

"Walking the line between life and death changes you..." Reinforcing your words with a lick along the length of his cock. "It's really something..."

"I feel honored to have changed you."

"I feel the same." And with that warning, you bend downwards to his asscheeks—hands cupping the underside of his thighs, spreading them wide open. His beautiful round ass converges into this small puckered hole. It's neat. Small. And looks tight. Your eyes glance up and over for a brief moment, past his cock and along his muscles. Connecting your eyes as you move in. Your nose meets the skin under his balls, lips touching his hole. It's super tense. Nathan's shocks in place as you kiss his hole. His asscheeks fighting back. And the muscles in his legs tensing. But your tongue smooths the resistance out.

It's a simple stroke with pressure on the tip that you work into the hole. Tight is an understatement. His hole doesn't give way. The tip barely goes in. Resistance to strong. You give it your full attention and begin lapping the entire entrance with your tongue. Feeling Nathan shudder under your touch. Heavier and heavier. So much his body gives in to the feeling, legs go dumb, and his asscheeks relax. So does his hole. An incredible moan vibrates through the room as you slather your tongue into his hole. Sucking and wetting it again. Fighting against the resistance. You maul away, eating and suckling away at his hole.

"J-J..-Just fucking go for it." Nathan cursing your name repeatedly. The tough man slowly began to sink into submission. It's only a matter of time. More curses spilled from his lips as he fought against his restraints and conflicted feelings.

Slow and sensual laps of your tongue along and around his hole calmed him down eventually. Just watching and waiting. Wanting. You test the resistance again—this time with your middle finger. Nails short and hands clean. You gently push. Just softly. "Fuck Yeah…" Nathan whimpered immediately as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. His hole tensed on the visitor violating the entrance. Nathan found great pleasure as he lay there moaning. Muscled chest heaving.

But it's just the tip. Your nail was still visible. And you try to push again. Into the resistance. At least deep enough for your nail to disappear. But it won't. Nathan shuddered and moaned from the increasing pressure. Quivering asscheeks and a twitching cock told you more than enough. You pull back and circle his hole with your finger. Tracing along with your tongue. "Again… d-do that… ag-...a-again."

A firm and steady push against his hole let your finger sink in further. It tightened and gripped your finger. Unable to move. You help him ease into it by sending trembles through your finger. That doesn't take long. It loses its tension and accepts you. But you don't stop. Pushing in further. You find enough depth to start penetration. Back and forth, you move your finger. The motion is tense and rugged at first but becomes easier and faster. To mention deeper. All the way up to your knuckle. It's slick and wet. And Nathan loses himself in the motion. Urging you to go faster. Deeper. More. All of it. Everything.

A gaping hole the size of your finger contracts on itself slowly as you pull out. It's mesmerizing to gaze upon. You wait for a few moments, before testing the resistance again. It's become softer. It slides in easier. You don't comment. You just listen to his pleas and curses. In fairness, more pleas turned to begs. The words are half slurred and muttered. But the message is clear. You feel and fill his hole up again. This time your tongue. It's surprisingly wide and accepting from just one finger. You're able to penetrate deep and get in there good.

Nathan's toes curled in on themselves, groaning, losing himself to the sensation. Especially after you push in your thumb. The size does it. The girth rubbing him just the right way. "I'm… cumming." Nathan uttered. "Fuck…"

But no cum came, his cock trembled, and a line of clear substance drooled down his cockhead. His entire body clenched on your motions. That thumb just rubbing him the right way. You can't move it further. But you knew you were close to it—your goal. "Don't break my fingers, Nate."

"I… I don't-…" He muttered through labored breaths. "But… I didn't cum." Gasping for air as he felt your thumb leave.

"Know your body, Nathan." Teasing his hole with your wet fingers, drawing circles around it. "I'm here to show you." Your turn your hand upside down, and with your index and middle finger, you push in. Resistance was futile. They're slick and wet within moments. It only takes Nathan a breath of fresh air to accommodate your fingers. Pushing in further. Curving your finger upwards, you feel him up on the inside. It's somewhere there. You know it.

"Fuck me." Nathan cried out in a curse. "Please…" Turning it into a plea. He lost himself so much, that he rolled his hips into the motion. Wanting it to feel deeper. Fucking himself onto your fingers. Until a sudden burst of cum shot from his slit. Nathan froze and watched himself burst large dollops of cum onto his stomach. This time was a real climax.

You think you got it. You think you found it. It may have brushed your index finger briefly. And it may have cannoned Nathan immediately far over the edge. Again your fingers are locked in that convulsing hole. Tight and warm. Helping him pulse and climax like never before. More exploration was necessary.

"That's… fucking amazing." Nathan sputtered as he came to his senses again. Sucking in the air that he so badly needed. The veins of his cock were swollen and looked ready to burst again. Standing half-mast, but still clearly aroused. You massaged his hole gently with your fingers, letting him come down from this explosive high.

"I think I found it..." And push in. Drilling both your fingers into his violated hole. Wide, gaping, and accepting. Nathan looked at you bewildered. His whole body accepts the next round. Wanting to. As you fingers find purchase within. It's slick and slides easily back and forth. Nathan watches in amazement, and you can see and feel him harden again. The muscles around your fingers tighten and his cock begins to rise again. It's not fully up and running again.

"F-Found… what?" He seems surprised and overwhelmed by his own feelings coming back again. As he stifled a groan from ecstasy. You angle for the right spot. That little spot. A first incidental push pushes sends Nathan shaking again. Just a second later, a substance leaks from his cock. With the muscles contorting on your fingers, it's hard to reach it again. You push again, this time rubbing it. With gentle and well-placed strokes, Nathan locks up again. "I'm cumming… again…" He breathed out with a moan. A milky white substance seeps from his cockhead. In streaks in runs down, seemingly never to end. Pooling on his stomach. As his cock softened. The strings of substance still stuck. His hips were one big mess. Not to mention all the sweat. His body glistened all over. It's gorgeous to look at.

"That's it…." You watch him breathe and gather himself again. His hole was stretched and accepting, yet it pushed your fingers out on its own. "Breathe in… and out." Waiting for him to get down from his high again. You could see the robes had burned into his wrists. The excitement and pleasure were taking their toll on him. His eyes were big. And breathing heavier than before. You could almost see his heart hammering against his chest.

Nathan was consumed by lust and pleasure. Another round was more than welcome, you sensed. You could feel it as you pushed one finger in again. A smile of contentment crept on his face. Groaning through his clenched jaw. Hair stained with sweat, sticking to his forehead. His cock lay soft in the pool of white milky substance. The cum he shot the first round lay still in the crevices of his sixpack. "God… Y-Yes…" He murmured as you moved one finger in and out. Stirring his body into the motion. Rolling his hips with it. "Another finger… p-please…"

You didn't need to do anything. He gasped for air as he rolled his hips onto your finger. Adding the other made him even more happier. Licking his lips, it's almost as if he forgot he was bound. His cock was done for. It hardened a little and grew in length. Rubbing the stain further along his body. But it didn't reach full mast again. You curl your finger into the spot again. And gently rub. "Y-You're making me cum again."

Finding it immediately. The little spot feels firmer than the rest. Stroking it gently again. Making Nathan shudder and shake. He launches himself upwards, but held in place by the ropes, watching his cock twitch. His eyes grow twice the size. Lost in a gaze of pure ecstasy. No cum. Just fluids. His cock pulsed on the spot. Staining little. But not to Nathan. For him, it felt like another orgasm. The air stocked in his throat for a few seconds. Watching his seeming to be orgasm. But then collapses backwards into the mattress. Sucking in the air again.

"I saw… fucking stars…" He stammered. "Dancing… in front of… my eyes." His body looked like a wreck. Short of air. Bodily fluids and life. "Holy shit…"

"You came four times in three minutes." Rubbing your fingers around his hole as Nathan lay there wasted and spet. Staring at the ceiling. "How about the fifth and final?"

"F-u... I don't think I-I.. can take that." He protested, hanging in the restrains. Pulling in the air as fast as he could. Chest rising and falling, the sweat glistening in the sunlight.

"These were only my fingers, Nathan." You lean in and over him, kissing him on the lips. "Can you imagine… Nathan-..." Trialing your finger along his spend body as you left the lingering kiss. His eyes follow you as you return back to your position. "...-what a …cock must feel like?" And massage his entrance again. Your fingers slide in with ease. His eyes flutter for a moment as you massage his insides. Closing his eyes for a moment, you can see him imagining. Relish the thought. And turn to an aggressive drill. Adding your second finger along. "Pounding you… deep inside you…"

"Yes… p-please…" He hampered through his labored breathing, his butt rising from the pillow as you feel another release coming. Nathan shakes, freezes, muscles locked into place. And his prostate was stimulated beyond belief. Again. "I'm… cummin…" And Nathan shakes again. Cock twitches and spurts a bit of fluid onto his stomach. Where it's coming from, you don't know. But it's another streak of fluid added to the mess. Nathan collapses to the mattress with one final moan. His hole pushes out your fingers in the motion. You feel the cramps and pain seeping in. It's numb, and your fingers twitch a little. Their slicked with fluids and stunk a little.

"I don't think you'll be able to walk for the next few hours." You poke his calves and thighs, but find no response whatsoever. Nathan is conscious but somewhere on a different plane of existence. With one of his shirts lying around, you rub your hand clean of wetness. With the knife, you cut the ropes around his wrist. His arms fall spend beside him. "Consider yourself a changed man, Nathan." You whisper in his ear. "That itch down there… it's never going to be the same ever again."

Nathan groaned and protested as the life slowly came back to him. Stars faded away from his vision. And color returned. Mouth sore and dry, a throat like sandpaper. His body tired and worn. Every joint on his body ached. Rubbing his wrists and shoulders, he slowly came to be himself again. "(Y/N)..." Nathan said, his head still spinning. "I w-will find you-…" He sputtered as he fought to get himself on his feet again. At least sit up. His vision somewhat blurry. A shimmer of steel caught his eye, and he saw your smile and the watch disappear on your wrist. "You f-fucker…" But his strength was gone. His legs had given in. His balance was gone. The moment Nathan got himself up to the edge of the mattress, he straight up tumbled forward onto the floor. Smacking face-first into the wooden floor. "I will find… you (Y/N)." He limped onto his back. Watching your contours disappear into the sunlight. "And scratch… e-everything off my list."

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nouearth · 8 months

Text

12 Months

peter parker x male reader.

series: 12 Months. part i.

summary: where you couldn't possibly imagine to find love and sanctuary anywhere else, you somehow find it in the presence of a boy named peter.

wc: 4.3k. genre: angst. warnings: loner!reader, sad!reader, implied abuse, implied bullying, high school senior year, slow-burn.

a/n: i'm trying something new with my writing! mostly not using all lowercase because it became a pain to type on my phone, LOL. but i welcome you guys to my fully planned series! it's exciting, but especially kind of scary since school is coming up. i might put off requests to focus on this, if it does well, but if not, i'll slowly update. i guess the reader kind of hits close to home, a little too close, since i've been feeling some type of way recently. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy the first part!

SEPTEMBER.

The big hand of the clock flicked closer to the end of the day, the small hand circling around the circumference to pass time.

Conversations of peers were usually drowned out with the help of your earbuds. The gentle strum of acoustics would counter the excitement of the students’ well-being; friends opinionated in after-school activities, athletes talked about the upcoming game with your rival school, artists boasted over the amount of commissions they’ve received overnight.

For the first time, you heard it all, and took it all in with an inhale, then silence as you stared at Peter Parker. The earbuds were slotted into your ear canals, but today, the wired nubs were worn to merely dull your surroundings as you awaited the intercom to bid the occupants of the building farewell for the day. Your leg shook, bouncing your book bag atop of it, and you held it steady when you hugged it close to your chest, chin resting at the strap. It appeased the throttle in your chest, but every time the classmate opened his mouth for a laugh, it swelled painfully larger. A pump to the husk of a balloon, a breath to the bubble of blue raspberry bubblegum, a vapor to the particles of billowed smoke, it continued swelling and roped your anxiety along for the journey. A part of you needed to talk to him, but the other part begged for reconsideration.

At some point, you forgot to breathe. Feeling blue in the cheeks, you finally exhaled the caught nerves. They drew out of you in shivers, spaghetti boiling in bubbling water if the warmth of your breath could change matter. While the man listened, then talked within his small group of friends, chairs and desks were gathered around to form a circle, you examined him cautiously. If Peter was to turn his head and meet the affection in your gaze, you were lucky to have the window by your side to turn back to, feigning interest in the clouds, the sky, the breeze in the trees. Until then, his smile unmasked pearly whites that rivaled the lights that illuminated the classroom. His russet hair was pushed back, wavy locks that were brushed simply so people could easily follow the pattern with one glance.

“Gooooood Afternoon, Midtown!” The intercom blared, and a warning from your teacher hushed your classmates into a sea of scatters. “Before we send you kiddos off, we would like to remind all of you that the Midtown Tigers will be playing against Weston’s Sea Hawks tonight! Show your support by attending the game and cheering for our team. Let’s show those dirty hawks that tonight will be the night that we can bounce back from our 18th consecutive loss!” It continued with its usual announcements of bus delays and afternoon activities before finally blaring that cathartic bell.

Footsteps crowded the halls, and your classmates joined its symphony in heavy to light strides. While you watched, your pace slowed deliberately as Peter’s friends bid him farewell. You overheard them asking him if he was going to join them in the mall, but he declined, blaming his absence on his aunt. They left one by one, until the only occupants were you, your teacher, and Peter.

“Peter?” You were up on your feet, approaching him from the back of the classroom as you slung the bag over your shoulder. Your voice cracked from the parched of your throat, mousy in performance, and you were unsure if Peter heard you. Your mouth opened again to call to him again, but he turned with a friendly smile, raising his brows in interest, and they closed.

“Oh, hey!” His face lit up when he saw you, or maybe you were convincing yourself. Not even your reflection looked at you the way Peter did. You were even surprised he recognized you. Cared to remember you. He hurriedly threw his books into his backpack before swinging it over his shoulder, meeting you in the middle of the row of desks. “What’s up?”

“I…” You’ve only spoken to him twice. The first was a mere greeting, and the second was a painful answer to his worry.

Are you okay? Yes.

The beating in your chest hiked in rhythms, compelled gravity to rob your voice, but you were conscious enough to steal it back, softly speaking. “I just want to thank you for… last year. I never got to… properly thank you. So, thank you…” You were intoxicated by the amount of times you said those appreciative words, but gratitude sobered you up, offering the latter a small, grateful smile.

“Oh…” The smile on Peter’s face simmered into a relieved line. He then nodded towards the door for you to follow him, and you did, silently by his side. “You don’t have to thank me, (M/N). I did what anyone would do.”

Everyone let it happened, except for you.

The hallway was quick to clear as students rushed to spend the remaining hours of their Friday without any regrets. The silence was deafening except for the squeak of your shoes and the whispered gossip between faculty members, and for a place you often labeled as your personal hell, it wasn’t so bad when it was purged of those that spawned that definition in your life.

Maybe you were walking slower, or you were keeping with Peter’s pace, or the hallways had undergone construction to stretch the floors, or the awkward silence between the both of you that blurred your perception, but the travel from your classroom to the exit of the building was a journey.

“Is he still bothering you? I don’t know if he’s in your other classes, but he’s not in mine, so…” Peter spoke up, alluding to the classmate who called you disgusting names, shoved your books to the floor, stole the change of your clothes during gym. And you wished it would stop there, at the actions of the cliché bully trope, but it never did. He pushed the door open, politely letting you out first, and you stepped into the warmth with a small thank you,’ and continued walking with him. Summer cicadas harmonized in their greeting.

“No, not anymore.” You lied, dropping that hand that once held onto the padded straps of your backpack to your side. The dark color of your pants masked the bruise on your wrist when you shoved it deep into your pocket. “I have him in a few of my classes, but luckily he’s preoccupied with his friends.”

“Geez, you got his friends too? That’s… gotta be a loud classroom.” He laughed, and you joined in to delude yourself, and Peter, into thinking everything was okay.

The sound of multiple engines running within the yellow busses reminded you how incredibly enamored you were with Peter. By now, motors would’ve been buried by earbuds, and the walk wouldn’t have been so deafening to your ear canals. But hearing Peter’s voice soothed the damage, and you wished you had a playlist of him saying your favorite words, reading your favorite novels, rescuing you with worried comfort. You wanted to continue the conversation, change the subject, but you never knew how, so it fell to silence. Again.

“I’ll see you around, Peter.” You spoke softly again, paused when you and Peter reached the end of the sidewalk. You were familiar with Peter’s route. He lived in the opposite side of your street, and the curved path to the right practically led him back to his apartment. All he had to do was follow the beige pavement. “…and thank you, again. It means a lot.” A genuine smile, one that you haven’t been able to sprout for weeks, months you could argue, and Peter’s breath hiked.

“Of course…” It took his breath away. The cloudy day was drawing in the last of its colors, but the rare hint of your teeth, the curve of your lips, made the sky above him, behind you, bloom in the softest blues, yellows, and whites. Selfishly, he wished you smiled more, because the release that was pulled from him evened the astonishment of a child seeing stars for the very first time.

“I’ll see you around, (M/N).”

OCTOBER.

The workload in your classes had picked up, and with the part-time job at the local bookstore, you were envious of customers who had finished their backlog of novels. Mainly working adults. Still, there was never enough hours in the day to immerse yourself in the world of a brave protagonist, slaying off demons and dragons in the pursuit of love. You never got to finish the fantasy novel you were reading, but you’d imagine it ended with the hero beheading the fire-breathing behemoth, and its head would be pridefully worn on a stick like cotton candy. Cheers erupted when the character returned, then roared when their love blessed them with one thankful kiss.

The ladder was anchored to the wooden, though creaky, floors as you held your breath from inhaling dust. When the door was pushed open by curious passersby, particles of dust sailed with the draft that was invited in, and you coughed into the crook of your arm whenever one floated into your throat. Though, you couldn’t be too annoyed. It also provided a test to see if the Halloween decorations could withstand the wind as they sat on hooks that were nailed into the ceilings. Spirals of orange and black ribbons roped cartoonish gravestones, black cats, pumpkins, skulls, ghouls, all the mascots of the holiday, from above. The draft animated them in gentle swings, delicate arcs that cooled the confined space of the bookstore, but as far as you could tell, none of them had landed on the ground.

“Looks great, (M/N)! I think we’re good on the hanging decorations!” Your manager, Anna, gave the metal ladder a strong pat before tending to the fallen dust. It shook in fear, and you did too, immediately clutching to the fly to stabilize it.

“Any else? We still haven’t decorated the windows.” You climbed down cautiously, making sure she was in your line of sight because for all you could know, she could be an omen.

“The stick on the ones I got suck, so I was thinking that we’ll decorate it on Halloween? Before opening?” She said, opening the door after to sweep out the culprits of your coughing fits.

“Sounds good.” You collapsed the extension of the ladder once you stepped off, folding it into a thicker shape, and nodded before returning the ladder to its rightful place in the storage room.

“Doing anything fun for Halloween?! Parties?!” Anna’s voice boomed despite the door muffling it. The natural luminous of her voice was something you usually cowered away from, especially when she called for you in front of customers. Luckily, the store was closed, vacant of any witnesses to the flare of your cheeks. Cardboard boxes stacked atop of one another, and for some reason, you were suddenly determined to face your procrastination head-on. “Horror movies?!”

“Uh…” The volume of your voice was still muted despite forcing yourself to make it sonorous. It came out in staggered breaths as you flattened the boxes with your weight, stepping on them at the crease and fold, until you were able to fold them into neat, flat shapes. “Not really! I usually don’t do anything for celebrations.”

“Seriously?” The sound of sweeps came closer to you. They sounded like laughs, almost as if they were mocking you. When you looked up, it was Anna’s fretted expression that reminded you that they were just sounds. No one was here to hurt you. Laugh at you.

It was just you and Anna. And sounds.

“Mm-hmm.” You simply answered, packing the flattened boxes into a trash bag before storing it back to where the stack previously harbored. The room felt bigger now. You exited after switching off the lights, and took Anna’s broom to sweep up the fuzzy stray materials of cardboard.

“How come?” Her shoulder supported her leaning stance as she pressed to the wall, watching you diligently work with crossed arms. She gasped out of realization. “Oh no—did something horrible happen on Halloween? Is that why you don’t celebrate?!”

“No, nothing like that!” You laughed. It was always genuine with her. Anna was at least twenty years older than you, but she still kept the youthfulness of a child. You were envious of it.

“I just…” Big sweeps to walnut flooring kept your mind at ease. The thick hairs brushed evenly, catching lint in the hay. They clung protectively onto the strands the more you brushed, the harder as well. It reminded you of nights, lonesome in your bed. No matter how hard you tried to remove those pesky lints, they always stayed. Always found a way to intrude. “—don’t have parties to go to.”

Nor did you have friends to watch movies with, or a willing family to celebrate with if all plans fell through. It’s been you since you can remember, and you’ve gotten used to it. Though, you’d never admit that to her.

The trail of your voice and the mindless polishing of walnut immediately foiled your discreet speech, but Anna knew better than to prod. From the day you came in for the interview, she remembered the timidness of your slouch, your pattern of speech, your orbs. One could argue that they were nerves, universal tremors one every eighteen year old got when applying for their first job. Then, she trained you. It was just you and her, and the shelves of delicate books. Over the next few weeks, Anna learned that you were as frail as the old spine of donated hardbacks.

Her knowledge of you only sank surface-deep, barely a scratch or a wound. At one point, she thought it was because of her personality: chipper as a mourning dove, loud as her neighbor’s lawnmower on Sundays, but compared to how she met you five months ago, it delighted her to see progress. Slowly but surely, you opened up to her. She knew your favorite color, your favorite meal, your favorite novel, and she was no longer insecure. There will be a time when she’d meet the root of your soul, and if it took a month, a year, or another, she’d wait.

“Everything okay at school?” She’s been meaning to ask. It was an exciting time for a new business, but incredibly stressful as well. Most never made it after six months, especially within an industry where independent bookstores have become increasingly difficult to sustain with the presence of technology. Anna was just fortunate enough to have seen such quick growth.

Anna took the broom from your hand, stashed it back in the storage room, then guided you to a table for two near the entrance of the store. It was her favorite spot because she loved seeing the wonderment of her customers when they left with the book they couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Yeah,” You quickly answered and offered her a simple smile, devoid of any purpose but to pacify her worries. It worked on your parents, and you liked to think that it worked on Anna as well. “Well, they’re doing some construction in the school gym. I heard that they’re planning to add a room for—“

“That’s great, (M/N), but…” Her arms remained crossed, below her chest, and she nodded to the bruise on your cheek. Purple bloomed high on your cheekbone. Occasionally, it throbbed whenever a draft hit your frail skin. You assumed it was its way to kiss it better, and so you would let it in seek of sating the empty feeling in your stomach. “That. I meant the bruise…”

“Oh—“ Out of instinct, your hand reached up to dab at the purpling skin. Numbed at the first layer, but you pressed deeper, and you hid a jolt with a sudden clear of your throat. “Uh… cat— got me. My mom always said to never play with strays.”

It was a lame excuse and you knew it. Anna did too. Before you could see her face scrunch into a stew of concern, you turned the bruised cheek away and looked to the heights of the sky, out the window, and wished you could fly into the night.

On Halloween, the promotion regarding a sale on donated books, though only paperbacks, if you wore a costume propelled the place to a considerable height. The small size of the store felt even smaller, even more so as Anna’s playlist Halloween music blared in the wall stereo. The sound waves and chatters of excited customers confined you, and you shrunk yourself in corners where it would be coldest. Anna took care of the crowd of patrons, while you assembled the paperbacks in a neatly order within the shelves.

Anna didn’t expect you to comply in participating in the event of Halloween, so the elation in her face was immediately framed in your mind when she hugged you tight, bruising enough to beckon the former bruise on your cheek to reappear, in your Where’s Waldo outfit. Simple, but you were a simple man.

“Excuse me?” An inquisitive voice tore your focus from arranging the novels in alphabetical order. You were kneeling to fill the lower shelf that was too low for anyone to comfortable browse through, but maintained the position as the crowd seemed to have closed in on you. “Do you know if this book qualifies for the sale, or is it paperback only?”

You looked up through your artificial glasses, and the size of your eyes matched the roundness of your frames when it embarrassingly didn’t take you very long to uncover who was under the layer of green face paint. “Peter?”

“O-oh! (M/N), you work here?” His eyes also widened, but he was sober enough to reach his hand out for you to grab onto. “That’s fitting, I guess. You always went to the library during lunch—I-I mean, not that I watch you or anything. I just— happened to notice…” The heat from your palm jumped onto Peter’s when you held on and pulled yourself to your feet. You weren’t sure what to respond to first, but the closed distance between you and Peter was distracting. A fleeting feeling in your chest, and it still overstays it welcome when you backed a step away.

Peter’s never been so close to you. He could smell the scent of ocean mist that he likened to previous shopping trips ago. His aunt may would drag him to the nearest retail store and he’d spend every second of the agonizing trip smelling laundry scent boosters while she stocked up on the pantry. He laughed to himself. You seemed like the type to use those.

“Thanks, uh…” You carefully took the hardback in your hand, examining it with several cycles of flips. It was in mint condition. Usually, a poorer state allowed an extra discount. “The sale is only for paperbacks, but…” Your eyes scanned the room. Fewer people now. Anna was still busy entertaining those that came to participate in the costume contest, a sudden endeavor to drive engagement.

“I can make an exception.” There was a swell in Peter’s heart when you gave him a smile, an uncertain small one, but nonetheless, a smile that warmed his insides. He wouldn’t have minded if he had paid full price anyhow, but he also wouldn’t reject the opportunity to save money.

He followed your steps to the back, away from the engaged crowd, and stilled as you began checking him out. “Just one book?” You looked up, and his lips were already parted as if he was about to say something, but he nodded instead.

Another moment of silence as you took his card after applying the sale to his book, and your fingers drummed to the beat of the music to fill it out, awaiting the receipt to print out. Whenever you had the courage to look at him, he was immersed in the ambiance of the bookstore. Smiling to himself, to Anna, to the laughter of the crowd, and you couldn’t help but hide one yourself, to the ground. When Peter faced you again, you quickly looked away in time, and the receipt rolled out in one smooth motion.

“How are you? Is it always this busy? I’ve never heard of this place.” Peter had a habit of stacking multiple questions with his own observations, with statements, with more questions. Rambles, people would call it. He was attentive, curious, and it all made him the more endearing.

“I’ve been doing okay. Tired, mostly. Miss Wilson’s been keeping me up though.” It was your attempt at a joke, and luckily, it landed when Peter laughed in agreement, elated as if he’d been waiting for the culprit of all-nighters to be of subject.

“Right?!” Peter shook his head when you asked if he wanted a bag, and continued, tucking the book in his armpit when you returned it to him. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love her—she’s awesome. But chill out on the essays! An essay about our essays is a task sent from the devil himself.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips, and a wider smile brimmed your face in support. For the first time, you felt compelled to talk, to engage into conversation. “Yeah, I missed a few deadlines, but she’s pretty lenient with late work, thankfully.”

“Really? I have a feeling it’s because it’s you! You’re probably her favorite student since you always get the right answers when she calls on you.” He laughed again to escape the awkwardness of his compliment. Subtle, but he hoped you took it pridefully.

Peter looked to the side to see if anyone was coming to conclude their purchase for the night, and was delighted to see the hardwood floor left unattended. “Are you doing anything after this? It’s Halloween, so I imagine people are probably out partying or something.”

“I’m not really a party person.” You nodded to assure yourself, mindlessly rearranging the supplies around the desk to avoid the gaze of his eyes. It sucked you in once, couldn’t look back even if you tried. It was only when Peter turned himself away that you were no longer staring into warm chestnuts. “I only dressed like this since I’d probably look a little out of place if I showed up in my usual uniform, haha.”

“You look cu—“ Peter hurriedly cut himself off, frantic before smiling again. “Nice. You look nice.”

“Thank you,” You returned his smile, soft in form. “What about you? Are you doing anything?”

“Well, I’m not a party person either—oh! There’s this new horror movie that came out a week ago! I’ve been dying to see it,” Peter sparked, gently bouncing on his toes as hope frayed within his words. “If you’re free, would you want to watch it with me?”

“Oh—“ For the first time, you had the option to say ‘yes’ or ‘no,’ and for some reason, Peter was always at the crime of your firsts. “W-what time? I’ll have to see if it’s okay with Anna if—“

“Let me see…” Light reflected off of Peter’s faced as he searched on his phone, but a buoyant smile that revealed his teeth shined brighter. “One showing at eight, another at ten, and one final one at midnight!”

“Is… midnight okay?” You hesitantly asked, and Peter brightened.

“Midnight is perfect.”

When you left from work, you didn’t bother to call for your parents. It would’ve gone to voicemail anyhow. Instead, Anna took the excited initiative to drive you to the theater despite your assurance that walking would’ve sufficed.

Nonsense! I’m getting my coat. Hold on! Stay right there!

The mystery of what held the rest of the night for you frightened you to the core. What if everything went downhill from here? What if Peter never showed up? What if this had been a prank all along? During the car ride, you breathed, and breathed, and breathed.

And then, breathed.

Inhaled.

Blew in one continuous breath.

Inhaled.

Your chest ran steady again.

That night, Peter made you feel normal. As normal as someone like you could be.

You didn’t plan on getting your fingers buttery, but Peter assured you that his popcorn wasn’t going to finish itself. You shared your sour gummies in return. Peter jumped when a ghost flew to the screen, and you did the same from his own erratic movements. You watched the film through half-closed eyes, peeking between the cracks of your greasy fingers, prepared to be startled by the sound of a door closing, and you laughed silently to yourself because it was silly when you flinched to a cat scurrying away.

While you focused, the structure of your nose and lips, your entire side profile, were handsomely illuminated by the flickers of the screen and Peter took in the animation of your presence, a behemoth contrast of the you he’d known silently for years; the you that kept to himself, ate at lunch by himself, did group projects by himself, studied in the library by himself, walked home by himself. It was pathetic, many would heckle to their circle of friends. Peter overheard the tease and taunts, and he wanted to defend you in those moments. But he couldn’t, not until he knew you.

When you felt the air thicken, you turned to Peter and his gaze unfurled the heavy cloud between the two of you until it vanished into smoke. It sucked you in; his eyes. And you stared wide-eyed, bewildered and lost in the sea of broken stars the screen illustrated in Peter’s orbs. They twinkled with every cut of the scene, sparkling under the terror of the performer’s haunting, until they no longer didn’t when he turned away.

Crimson blanched and wilted into his face, radiated even in the dark when you followed and turned back to the screen. You felt your cheeks rivaling in swatch.

For the first time, you weren’t scared.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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