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nouearth · 9 months

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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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supercap2319 · 7 months

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"I can't believe this." Y/N said, shocked at the sight before him. His boyfriend was naked as the day he was born, leaving nothing at all to the imagination while wearing slippers.

Peter gave him a small smile and blushed slightly. "That I'm naked for you?"

"No. I can't believe you're naked while wearing my slippers. Those are my favorite slippers. Take them off now."

Peter frowned. "Wait, I'm literally naked for you on a silver platter and you care about your slippers?"

"You're darn right. Those are my SpongeBob ones." Y/N said.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #Tom Holland x male reader #peter parker #Peter Parker x male reader #spiderman #Spiderman x male reader

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g4yforethan · 2 months

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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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clarks-letterman · 1 year

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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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noamm7 · 10 days

Text

the new boy

paring : peter parke (tom holland) X male reader

cw : fluff

summary : Peter introduces the school to the new boy (you) and a friendship with something more begins to blossom.

You were slowly adapting to your new life since you moved with your mother and stepfather. Today was your first day in a new school, and while you were nervous, you were also excited to meet new people and make friends. As you entered the grounds of the school, a sweet-looking boy approached you.

He was smaller than you had imagined, wearing a shirt with a Star Wars design on it, he had brown hair, and seemed timid and kinda jittery, but in a cute way.

"Hey, uh... I just wanted to welcome you... I'm Peter... Peter Parker, and I've been here since first grade, and I'm considered a good student, so... they They I was asked to show you around and stuff..." he whispers "I'm really not sure what to say"

"Hey, eh… nice to meet you Peter, my name is Y/N… and as you probably know I… am new here…" you say with a brief smile.

Peter suddenly noticed he was lost in your smile. It was so radiant and expressive, like the light of the sun had been repressed and now radiating from your face. Peter was caught off-guard and blushed for a moment before becoming stunned, unable to avert his gaze. He was then able to recover himself and continue the conversation, avoiding the awkward moment.

"Well, uh... yeah, I guess I should introduce you to the school now, right?"

"Ah, yeah, sure, I would appreciate that." Peter nodded his head in affirmation "All right, follow me, I'll show you the classrooms and other areas of the school."

As you and Peter walked around the school, you had a blast chatting about all sorts of things you had in common. You discovered that both of you loved reading and collecting comic books about superheroes, building complex Lego sets and even playing similar video games.

You could feel a spark of friendship igniting between you, and it was so nice to have someone to talk to and forge bonds with over shared interests.

✁ ..time cut..

Finally, you two arrived at the end of the tour of the school. Peter had showed you all the classrooms, hallways and areas of the school. You realized that you two shared many interests and you were feeling more and more connected. It was now time for you to part ways, at least temporarily, since both of you had to head back to class.

“Well, I guess it's a temporary goodbye... I really enjoyed showing you around... and I really liked you... I mean... meeting you... sorry...” Peter says feeling his cheeks start to heat up "Okay that's cute" Peter squints his eyes and turns even redder than he was, you laugh a little at his reaction and then continue talking "I felt the same way, thank you for taking the time to do this” You say with a brief smile "You're welcome... well I should get to class. I hope to see you later!" Peter speaks with a small smile on his face.

Before parting ways with Peter, you quickly thought of something and called him. "Hey, hey, before we part ways, do you think we could go out to explore the city this weekend? I don't know much around here, so if you could go with me and show me some fun places... if you want, of course." Peter looked at you for a moment, seemingly a little surprised, then smiled and nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, sure, it's a great idea, I'd be happy to do that." Peter answered, with a big smile.

"Perfect," you say with a smile "Then... I guess I'll see you at lunch, right?" "Yeah, of course," Peter replies, nodding his head and giving a smile "I liked getting to know you Peter." You say with a smile "You're a cool guy." Peter felt a wave of warmth and happiness wash over his mind and heart "Ah, I..." he said, becoming even more flustered "I... I say the same, it was a pleasure getting to know you too, Y/N." Peter replied, smiling and unaware of just how red he was getting.

“See you at lunch, then," you say, glancing over your shoulder with a brief wave and turning to find your class. While Peter stands there, with an infatuated smile on his face, not realizing just how red he was getting.

It was certainly set to be more than just a great friendship between these two young boys.

ac : Sorry guys this was longer than I thought 😭😭 I hope you liked it ❤️‍🩹 who knows, we might have a second part of this story…

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malfoyx · 1 month

Note

Photos you'd have on your phone with Tom Holland?

photos you would have on your cell phone if you were dating tom holland

(if anyone wants another male artist just send the request❤️)

(special bonus)

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #male reader #reader #x reader #tom holland x male reader #fanfic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland edit #tom holland

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untilwedont · 1 month

Text

➤ Masterlist

⋆ ★ a finally updated masterlist

➻ rules

✦ m!reader or gn!reader only!

✦ no weird kinks: piss kink, scat, etc.

✦ don't request: p3d0ph!l!a, r4pe, non con, etc.

➻ who i right for

❀ literally will write for majority of men, fictional or not. if you have a specific boy in mind, feel free to request it.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

angst - *

fluff - ^

smut - +

★ Peter Parker

★ Better Luck Next Time * (REMAKE)*

★ Late Night Drive ^

★ Broken Ending *

★ Loved You Then, Loved You Now. *

★ Never Forget About Me *

★ Deja Vu (1) (2) (3) ***

★ More Nights Like This +

★ First Time For Everything +

★ Happy For You *

★ Just A Hug *^

★ Vinnie Hacker

★ Baking Gone Wrong +

★ A Sentence I Regret *^

★ LiveStream Fun +

★ Happier Than Ever *

★ Hidden (1)(2)+^

★ Consequences +

★ Better Off W/O You *

★ My True Valentine *^

★ Lay With Me +

★ Jealous Boy *^

★ EMO +

★ Josh Richards

★ Pool Sex +

★ Noah Beck

★ Time Will Pass By Quicker +

★ Steve Harrington

★ Never Forget Me *

★ The Boy From Scoops Ahoy

★ Tommy Slater

★ Can’t Stop Myself **

★ Jaden Hossler

★ Such A Tease *

★ JJ Maybank

★ Morning Kisses ^

★ Passionate About You +

★ Reassurance ^

★ My High ^

★ Thigh Rider +

★ Hidden ^

★ Jason Carver

★ Naughty Boy +

★ Nick Sturniolo

★ Picnic Day ^

★ Jacob Day

★ In Your Clothes +

★ LoveStruck +

★ Jealous +

★ Nathan Drake

★ Trust My Gut *

★ Ryohei Arisu

★ Live For Me *

★ Rafe Cameron

★ Hate You *

★ Rough +

★ We Can't Be Friends *

★ Ethan Landry

★ A Gutting Feeling (1)(2)** (REMAKE OF 2)*

★ Still A Virgin? +

★ A Certain Someone ^

★ Sleep Well Dear ^

★ I'm All Ears ^

★ I Promise I Love You *^

★ A Part Of Me Died *

★ Think You Can Handle One (Then Try Two) +

★ Heart To Heart *

★ Under The Mistletoe ^

★ Chad Meeks

★ Tell Me, Baby *^

★ Think You Can Handle One (Then Try Two) +

★ Jacob Custos

★ I'll Hold You *^

★ Leon Kennedy

★ Whisper In My Ear +

★ Leon HeadCannons ^

★ Colby Brock

★ Paranormal Love ^

★ Light Shower ^

★ Huening Kai

★ Backstage +

ANDD MORE TO COME! (Hopefully I stay consistent with updating this one)

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6rookie-writer0110 · 1 year

Text

Into the cold

MCU cast X Male Reader

Request - Hi hope your doing good, I wanted to ask for a MCU cast X Male Reader platonic please R and Tom Holland are in an interview and they watch a blooper with them having a staredown but forget their lines so they lean in a kiss (this was before Tom and Zendaya was dating) and R says that's his first kiss with a guy and within the top 10 gayest things his done and a few weeks later the NWH cast react to fanart and some fanfiction of R and Tom's characters dating and during the interview R is like "I kissed Tom before you Zendaya"

You and the cast of No Way home are on The Tonight Show, and you and Tom have to talk about the movie. You took a selfie with Zendaya and Tom, everyone posted it online.

“Y/n, how does it feel to be in Spider-Man: No Way Home movie?” Jimmy asked.

“I feel excited and I can't wait for everyone to see the character I will play” You smiled.

“Is it true, you and Tom met before making the movie?” Jimmy asked.

“Yes, it's true. We both went for an audition for the same role in the movie Spies in Disguise. We are getting along, waiting for us to be called and we tried to copy each other’s accents. And I sent him a message teasing him that I got the role” Tom said.

“He is very rude and mean,” You said.

Everyone starts to laugh and you are smiling.

“They are always like this. Sometimes they can act like kids” Andrew said.

“Then Benedict would act like the dad and tell them to stop,” Zendaya said.

“Ever since that day, he makes fun of me for not getting the role I would try out for,” You said.

“Sometimes, Y/n would try on my spiderman mask and send me selfies,” Tom said.

Jimmy starts to laugh.

“I think we have pictures of that” Jimmy smiled.

You have the mask on and you try to eat a hot dog, in the next picture you pretend to brush your hair, and in the last picture you have the Dr strange cape on and Benedict is behind you glaring at you.

“He likes to get into it stuff after I tell him not to do it,” Benedict said.

“He does have cool stuff,” You said.

“Such a dork” Andrew laughed.

Now Jimmy is showing bloopers of the whole cast. Jimmy and the audience are laughing at the video.

“Apparently, this part everyone is talking about but we will show it,” Jimmy said.

In the video... Tom made you laugh and you forgot your lines and he forgot too. You and Tom have a stare-down, then you and Tom leaned and kissed each other on the lips.

“What just happened at that moment,” Jimny said.

“We had to do a scene. Y/n made me laugh, then for some reason, we just stared at each other, and we kissed” Tom said.

“That was one of the top ten gayest things, I've ever done,” You said.

The whole cast is staring at you right now.

“What other stuff have you done, Y/n?” Tobey asked.

“We all want to know,” Andrew said.

“Time for a commercial break, Jimmy!” You said.

Jimmy starts to laugh so hard, that his face is turning red.

The next day, many fans reacted to the video of you and Tom. You got more followers on Instagram then days later, you and Tom did a Q&A on Instagram.

✬ ✯ ✯ ✫

You and the cast are at comic con. You are on stage with them answering questions from fans. Some of the fans showed you and Tom fan art and fanfic of Peter Parker and your character.

“My character won't be dating anyone in the movie. I will appear in some scenes” You said.

“How does it feel that you kissed Y/n,” A fan asked Tom.

Before Tom answered and you answered.

“I kissed Tom before you Zendaya," You said.

Everyone starts to laugh and Zendaya playfully smacked your arm. Everyone did laugh

“That hurts,” You said and start to rub your arm.

You and Zendaya started to laugh.

“You play too much” Zendaya laughed.

You and the cast continued to answer more questions. Later, you take pictures with fans along with Tom. Many will tell you and Tom, how they like the characters together.

-----

You are with the cast in London for the movie premiere. You pose with the cast and the paparazzi start to take the pictures. Now you start to answer questions

“Y/n, can you tell us anything about your character?” The host asked.

“I can't say anything, I don't want to get in trouble like how Tom spoiled the movie years ago,” You said.

“Wow, Y/n why do you have to bring that up” Tom laughed.

“Tom do you want to work with Y/n again? You two seem close” The host asked.

“Oh, I hope I can work with Y/n in a comedy movie now that will be interesting,” Tom said.

Later, Tom posted a picture of you sleeping in your chair on set. Tom wrote a caption and everyone started to like it...

Tomholland2013 - Y/n drools when he is sleeping 😴

Zendaya told you about it by text and you started to laugh.

#mcu cast imagines #x male reader #male!reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #male reader #tom holland x male reader

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myfeetkeepdancing · 2 years

Text

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.

#Nathan Drake x Male!Reader #Nathan Drake x Male Reader #Tom Holland x Male!Reader #Tom Holland x Male Reader #Tom Holland male reader #tom holland #male reader #male!reader #mlm smut #tom holland smut #smut #mlm #mlm love #nathan drake smut #male reader smut

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bjtch-craft · 7 months

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"Can I make it up to you, please?"

Peter Parker x Black! Male reader

✩ Summary: Peter gets into an argument with the reader but makes it up to him...

✩ Word count: 2k

✩ Genre: Angst to Smut

✩ Request: Yes or No

✩ Warnings: Smut, crying, over stimulation (if you squint you'll see it), and (LIGHT) choking!!

✩Authors note: Sorry for disappearing for a while. School started again, and I wanna d!e already!!! Anyways this is my first attempt at writing smut, and it's so totally not proofread! So if there's any mistakes, please comment them so I can correct them.

"I don’t understand why you’re so mad at me!"

"Peter, I’m not fucking mad at you!"

Peter takes a deep breath and rubs his eyes with his wrist before placing them on either side of him, softly gripping at the sheets.

"Then why are you yelling at me?"

"I’m not-!" [Name] cuts himself off after hearing his tone. "I’m not yelling at you; I'm just... worried. Okay? Worried that one day you’ll meet your match or run into some crazy obsessed fan." He finishes his sentence with a softer tone.

"Well, you don’t have to be! Okay?"

"I know, but..."

"Is this about MJ?:

[Name’s] worried look is wiped away by Peter’s accusation and a look of shock forms.

"W-what? No!"

"Because it feels like it is! Is that why you meant by an obsessed fan?" Peter says, putting up air quotes while saying "obsessed fan. "

"That’s not what I meant!"

"Then what did you mean? Because to me, it seems like you’re upset; I’ve been hanging out with her more often. Jealous even."

"Oh my God, Peter, you’re un-fucking-believable! This isn’t about her or anything else; this is about me! And my concerns! You don’t even know how many times I’ve seen you go up against some big and how terrified I've been! Terrified that you’ll get seriously hurt or worse."

Peter lets out a scoff.

"So you’re just being overprotective now?"

[Name's] jaw dropped at the sentence that left Peter’s lips. He wasn’t sure how to react.

Peter and [Name] never argued, and even if they did, they’d get over it within a minute or two, but for some god-forsaken reason, Peter was being an absolute dick.

The energy in the room increased by ten as both of them (mostly [Name], of course) could feel the anger begin to sink in even deeper.

"Peter. What. The. Fuck! Is wrong with you today? I don’t know why you’re being like this!"

"Like what?"

"Like a dick! I don’t even know why you’re arguing with me; I’m just telling you my fucking concerns, and you have the fucking gall to call me jealous and overprotective."[Name] says, dragging out the word "Gall".

"And I’m just telling you how I feel too!"

[Name] didn’t know how to react; he felt hurt and could feel a sob begin to make its way up his throat. He gulped it down (that didn’t work; he ended up still crying later, but that’s later) he began to pull at the bottom of his shirt while looking at the floor.

"Peter… Can you leave?" [Name] said quietly.

"W-what?"

"I said," Can you leave," please?"

"Okay. Fine."

And with that, Peter stood up and made his way out the door, leaving [Name] standing there in silence, a tear threatening to fall from his eye. It wasn't an empty threat, and the tear fell. And fell. And fell. And fell.

Soon the sun set behind the tall buildings of New York, and the moon rose, casting a small bit of light into [Name's] room. [Name] sunk into his bed as he stared up at the ceiling, a million thoughts rushing through his brain.

Are we over?

Why was he mad at me?

Should I say sorry?

Should he say sorry?

Is it my fault?

No, it's his fault.

For sure.

Tap tap tap. [Name] sat up softly and looked towards his window, expecting to see the source of the sound. But there was nothing…

"Am I hallucinating? Can you even hallucinate sounds?" [Name] thought aloud.

Now, you can actually hallucinate sounds, but this wasn't a hallucination. Tap. Tap. Tap. [Name] got up from his bed, crept towards the window, and slid it open.

"Hello…? Why'd I say hello? That's basically a death wish if this was a horror movie. "

"Hi!"

[Name] jumped back from the window with a yelp. Before creeping back towards it and looking out it once again, but this time staring down to see a familiar blue and red suit.

Peter stood on the building's brick wall, looking up at [name], his arms crossed around.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah…"

[Name] backed up from the wall as Peter climbed inside with a smile on his face.

"Do you have anything I can change into, babe?"

[Name] let out a scoff.

"Babe! Don't babe me, dude. Are you seriously going to pretend that our argument didn't happen?

"Sorry! I thought you'd be a little calmer. But do you?"

[Name] walked to his closet, pulled out a sweater, made his way toward his dresser, grabbed a pair of sweats, and threw them at Peter.

Peter changed and threw the suit in a corner before sitting down on the mattress. And a somewhat awkward energy filled the room.

"I'm sorry… I am. I don't know why I was being such a dick! But I'm sorry for what I said." Peter looked down at the floor, unable to look at his boyfriend.

"Peter…"

[Name] wasn't sure what to say, and in situations like this (awkward, scared, and nervous), he often coiled his already-curled hair around his finger.

"I feel like such a shitty boyfriend."

[Name] placed his hand on Peter's cheek. "You're not a shitty boyfriend, though... You admit when you're wrong and understand why 6 wrong. That's legit one of the many reasons why I love you!"

Peter looked up at [name], nuzzled his face into his palm, and planted a soft kiss on his palm. [Name] ran his thumb over his pale cheek. It was a sweet moment that didn't last very long.

[Name] softly ran his thumb over the corner of Peter's soft lips. Peter adjusted his head and planted a kiss on the darker-skinned boy's thumb. [Name] smiled down at Peter.

"I love you, Peter..."

"I love you too."

[Name] pressed his finger against Peter's lip. He got the hint and opened his mouth, letting his boyfriend's thumb in. He looked up at [name] with innocent eyes as he bobbed his head up and down on his thumb.

"Jesus..." [Name] whispered out.

Peter came off his finger with a pop, his face turning a light pink.

"Can I make it up to you, please?"

[Name] nodded his head softly and backed up as Peter got up off the bed and kneeled in front of him.

"You can say no at any time, and I'll stop," Peter said with a smile.

"Same to you."

Peter reached up and pulled down [Name's] basketball shorts, dropping them to his ankles. Peter reached up and gently groped at the bulge in the other boy's boxers. Peter pulled them down with ease.

Peter stroked it gently, causing a soft whimper to release from [Name's] mouth as Peter's soft hands glided over his cock. Peter grabbed the base of [Name's] cock and gently licked the tip before taking it into his mouth. Peter looked up at [Name] as he slowly took more into his mouth, gagging a bit as he made his way towards the base.

[Name] reached down and placed his hand in Peter's hair, holding his head in place, making Peter gag as drool pooled out of the corner of his lips.

"Fuckkk! Peter, your mouth feels so good."[Name] moaned out.

Peter let out another gagging sound and tapped the side of [Name's] thigh, signaling for him to let go. And [Name] did Peter come off his cock with a pop and look up at him with a smile, a rope of drool connecting [Name's] tip to his lips.

"Are you okay, Peter?"

"Yeah. Fine." Peter said as he began to slowly stroke [Name's] dick.

He placed it back in his mouth and began to go back down on it. He bobbed his head up and down in a repeating motion as he reached into his sweats and pulled out his own cock and began jerking himself off.

Peter came off his dick and kitten, licked the tip, and placed it back into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it.

"Agh, Jesus Peter" [name] whimpered out.

[Name] placed his hands on either side of his head and slowly began pulling his head further down on his shaft.

"I'm going to go a little rough. Is that okay with you?"

"Mmmm," Peter hummed in response, causing a soft vibration on [Names] dick, making him let out another moan.

[Name] gripped a handful of Peter's hair and began to pull his cock out of his mouth before slamming it back down his throat. Peter, still stroking his own cock, reached out and grabbed at [names] thighs for support.

[Name] strengthened his grip on Peter's head and began slamming his cock down Peter's throat harshly, causing drool to pool out of the corners of his lips.

"Ohhh God! F-fuck!"

Peter whimpered and whined around the length as tears filled his eyes, threatening to spill.

"MM~ MMM~" Peter whined out.

Peter jerked himself off at an even faster rate, chasing his climax. And he chased it, cumming all over his hands and floor.

"Aww, Pete...."

[Name] pulled his dick out of Peter's mouth, leaving him gasping for air.

"F-fuck~" Peter said in between breaths.

"Are you okay, Pete?"

"Mhm."

"You came... kind of fast."

Peter's pale face turned a soft pink as he ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor.

"Do you want to, like, you know, go all the way? You don't have to say yes." [Name] said, reaching down and lifting Peter's chin up to look at him.

"Yes, I want to do it."

[Name] reached down and pulled Peter up by his arm, smashing his lips against his. [Name] kicked off his shorts and boxers and began walking them toward the bed, lightly pushing Peter down. Peter reached out and gripped the collar of [Names] shirt, pulling him down with his lips, never breaking contact.

[Name] broke the kiss, placed a soft kiss on Peter's cheek, and started making his way towards his neck. Kissing down his jawline before softly biting his neck.

"Fuck~" Peter moaned out.

[Name] began sucking on the flesh and biting at it before licking over the bite. The warmth of [Names] tongue made Peter blush even more, making his already pink skin turn a deep scarlet. [Name's] hands traveled down Peter's body, slipping them up his shirt and feeling him up.

[Name] reaches out from under Peter's shirt and takes his cock in his hand, gently tugging at it. Peter let out a soft whimper at the feeling of [name's] warm hand.

"Is this okay?" [Name] says speeding up the pace.

Peter bites down on his bottom lip and nods his head.

With his other hand, [Name] begins to pull Peter's shirt up and begins placing soft kisses on his torso, making his way toward Peter's cock. Peter pulled his shirt off, making [Name] let go of his cock.

[Name] delicately kissed Peter's tip, spat in his hand, and began jerking him off once more. The sound of wet noses and whimpers filled the room.

"Does that feel good, Peter?"

"Mhm-ahh~ Fuck~!" Was all he could whine out as [Name] ran his thumb over his tip in a particularly hard motion.

[Name] let's go of Peter's cock and steadied himself on his knees, grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off.

"Let me know if it hurts or if I'm going to be rough, okay?"

"Okay."

[Name] placed Peter's legs on his shoulders and steadied himself on the mattress before lining himself up with Peter's hole. Peter reached out and felt around on his boyfriend's bedside table until he felt a familiar wrapping.

"Here."

Peter handed him a condom. [Name] opened it and slid it over his dick and pushed into Peter slowly, wanting him to adjust to his size before moving.

Peter gripped the sheets and twisted them in his hands as he let out a soft moan.

"F-fuck~"

[Name] reached out and grabbed Peter by the waist and pulled him down on his cock. [Name] bottoming inside of Peter as he looked down at him to see his arm covering his face, his face somehow even pinker.

"Does this feel okay?"

"Mhm."

"Can you uncover your face? I want to see all the pretty little faces you make, Pete."

Peter's cock twitched at this, and a drip of precum made its way down his cock. Peter did as he was told, took his arm off, and looked up at the curly-haired boy.

"I'm going to start moving, okay? Let me know if it's too much or if you want to stop. I won't be mad, I promise!"

"Okay, I will."

[Name] began to roll his hips in and out of the pale boy, starting off with a slow pace to ensure he didn't hurt him. [Name] decided to test the limits and pulled out of Peter, making him let out a breathy gasp at the loss of friction before slamming back into him and producing another loud moan from him.

His face contorted into a mixture of pleasure and pain as his hands shot out and grabbed at [Names] shoulders as he rocked his hips into Peter.

"Aghh~ C- Can you go a little harder?'

[Name] listened to his question and sped up the pace, filling the room with the sound of a headboard banging and the sound of skin against skin. [Names] hands roamed down Peter's thighs until they reached his cock, took it in his hand, and began once again jerking him off at an irritatingly slow pace.

[Name] placed his other hand on the back of Peter's head and leaned in their lips inches apart. [Names] thrust slowed for a second before stopping all together.

"Why did you stop?" Peter said, his voice barely above a whisper.

[Name] closed the gap between them. Peter kissed back almost instantly and placed his hand on the back of [Names] head, tangling his fingers in his curls. [Name] began to thrust into him slowly and more gentle as the kiss deepened.

[Name] grabbed Peter's hands and placed them above his head, holding them in place and breaking the kiss in the process. His thrust quickened, and once again, the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

"Fu-fuck~ ugh!" [Name] moaned out.

His thurst became even harder as he chased his high. Peter could feel tears starting to fall from his eyes, not from pain but from pleasure. It was all too much. His ccok standing up straight twitched and shot ropes of cum all over his abdomen, painting that area of his body glossy white.

"I'm not too far behind," [Name] grunted out.

His thrust became sloppy, losing the rhythm as he tightened his grip on Peter's wrist.

"F-fuuck~"!

He let go of Peter's wrist, pulled out of him, and made his way to the floor. Peter got the idea quickly and knelt before sticking his tongue out as [Name] jerked himself off.

After one or two strokes, he came, shooting his load over Peter's face. Blotches of white landed on his lashes, chin, nose, forehead, tongue, and hair.

Peter swallowed the cum that had landed in his mouth and smiled looking up at [name] innocently.

"Jesus Christ, Peter, you're so pretty."

Authors note part 2!!!:

Okay so y'all I'm thinking of doing an Olivia Rodrigo type of story with Bad Idea, right? Should I do this???

Link to the song in case y'all haven't heard it yet!!!

#lgbtq #gay #peter parker x male reader #spiderman x male reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x male reader #smut #peter parker smut #peter parker x black!reader #Peter parker x Black male reader #idk man #Is this even good #Spotify

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kanataka-san · 2 years

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(Y/N): you picked up a fight with the wrong person

Villain: who? You?

(Y/N):*shakes his head pointing behind the masked man*

Villain: *turns around but sees noone then hear click behind him*

(Y/N): now, be a good boy and hand me your weapon, police is already on their way.

Spider man:*hanging in the corner of the old bulding watching his boyfriend* wha the f-

#avengers x male reader #male reader #marvel x male reader #marvel #the avengers #peter parker #peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #andrew garfield spiderman x male reader #andrew garfield x male reader #tom holland x male reader

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nouearth · 8 months

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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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supercap2319 · 13 days

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Peter: "Y/N? Why are you painting your fingernails black?"

Y/N: "Wanda and Pietro took all the red and blue nail polish, so I can't paint them as Spiderman colors. So, I'm going for Venom black. I heard his host is hot as fuck."

Peter *Murmurs underneath his breath* "I'm hotter."

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #tom holland #Tom Holland x male reader #Spiderman

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jaozendry · 1 year

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NEW YEAR SPECIAL: A New Beginning

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Warnings: slight mentions of suicide & self-harm

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Summary: After a very hard year, Peter comforts you due to your anxiety: you're afraid 2023 will somehow be worse than 2022.

Author's note: happy new year!! stay strong ppl <33 sorry its a short one today im tiredddd

______________________________________________________________

"You okay?" Peter asks you, opening the door to your room. "I didn't see you at the party." You remove your headphones and wipe away the tears dripping down your face while looking away. He notices your current emotional state and sits down on your bed, caressing your hip. "What is it?" he asks with sincerity in his eyes. "I- uh, I don't know. It doesn't matter anyway." you reply, smiling faintly to reassure him.

He clearly knows that's a lie. Peter knows 2022 has been a hard year for you, both mentally and physically. You've been bleeding out all year, both hypothetically and literally.

He caresses your arm: "I'm proud you made it through this year, I really am." he tells you, slightly tearing up. "It's almost over. Next year will be a new beginning for you, trust me." You start to tear up even more. "But... what if nothing changes? What if I'm still in that mindset? What if I attempt suic-" As you start to freak out and lose control of your emotions, Peter gently puts his hand on your mouth. "Don't say that, please." he tells you, also tearing up and removing his hand from your mouth. "I'm here for you. We'll make it through this year, together." he explains, earning a little smile from you.

"There's that beautiful smile I've been looking for." he says jokingly. "Feeling better now?" he asks, caressing your face. "Yeah. Thanks. I guess I just needed to hear that you'll be there for me. Especially after this year." you reply, holding his hand while he nods in understanding. "We'll have a good year, right?" you ask, wiping your tears once more. "Oh, we will. Don't worry." he says while smiling.

"Come on, they're waiting for us." he says, standing up and reaching out his hand. "I don't think I'm looking too good after bawling my eyes out." you reply in a jokingly sad manner. "Y/N, you always look good. What did I say? We'll have a good year." he says, taking both of your hands. "That means a more positive mindset." he explains, playfully ticking your head while the both of you laugh. "We'll work on that. Okay?" he tells you while you stare into his beautiful eyes. "Fine." you giggle. "Only one drink."

The both of you finally stand up and leave the room. "What?" you giggle while he stops and simply stares at you. He goes for a kiss and you engage back. He breaks free and a few seconds of awkward silence occur. He finally breaks the silence, whispering into your ear:

"We'll have an amazing year, Y/N, trust me."

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mlm-writer · 2 years

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Well, That’s Fruity (Peter Parker x M!Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker/Spiderman (TH ver.) x Male Reader (trans-friendly) For the pride prompt: And they were two closeted roommates trying to figure out if the other is gay without exposing themselves Rating: Mature for one gay porn reference Words: 609 POV: Second Summary: Your floormate is cute and you want to knwo if he is gay or nah. Peter also has a cute floormate and also wants to confirm if he is gay or nah. Notes: Happy Pride! See all works for pride 2022 here. I know a lot of things are based on stereotypes, but listen- most of them are true Tags: gay stereotypes, one gay porn reference, fluff, college AU and could be read as platonic

There were many things you were ashamed of; not being straight was not one of them, but that did not change the fact that being in the closet was just safer, especially when you just moved in with a bunch of strangers in a dorm. Faith would have it though that one of your floormates was this perfect twunk with a nice butt and a cute face. And you swore it was not like you had wishful thinking, but there was something fruity about Peter Parker. Your gaydar always tingled around him, but no full on alarms were raised just yet.

You found him one late night in your shared living room. He was on the couch, slouched and folded in some position with a printed article in his hands. You could see some sentences highlighted in the same colour as the marker he was holding between those soft-looking lips. Sitting gay? Check.

“Also burning the midnight fuel?” You inquired, before sitting down on the couch across from him with your laptop. He looked up from the paper in his hands and slowly pulled the marker from between his lips with an affirmative hum. Was he trying to make you think of those lips doing things elsewhere? He pulled out one of his earphones as well.

“I got an essay due at the end of the week and I am not even halfway,” Peter huffed as he put the marker on the table with his other stationary. “So what are you working on?” He nodded towards the laptop. You looked down at it, seeing that empty presentation staring back at you.

“Something that I should have started a week ago,” you sighed. You both got comfortable on your respective couches. “What are you listening to? I could use some new jams to study to.” He plucked his phone out of his pocket, showing he was listening to a song of Ariana Grande, which you knew was not a title track. That was fruity, but straight men listened to her too.

“You know the song?” He inquired. You nodded. He hummed in reply. A silence formed between you two as you got to work. After an hour, Peter stood up. “I’m gonna make some coffee, do you want some too?” You gave him a thumbs up, without looking up from your screen. “I’ll take mine iced. Do you also want it iced?”

“Hell yeah,” you replied without thinking. It took a good few minutes before you realised what he had said and asked. Iced coffee? While it wasn't even that hot outside, nor an appropriate time for it? Well, that’s fruity. When Peter came back with a glass of iced coffee, you decided to throw caution to the wind. “Hey, I need a fake name for my presentation. John Doe is a little overused, so I was thinking of making up something.”

“You may use my name,” Peter offered as he sat back down and sipped his coffee.

“No, it needs to be fake. What do you think of Sean Cody?” That made Peter spit his iced coffee all over his once white shirt.

You gasped and pointed at him. “So you are gay!”

Peter coughed and gasped for air. “So are you!” He wheezed out, pointing right back at ya.

You started laughing. “Oh my god we are like that Spiderman meme,” you tried to say through your giggles, while Peter was still recovering from choking on iced coffee.

“Wait, you know I’m Spiderman too?” He spoke, strained and red in the face.

You stopped laughing, mouth hanging open as you turned your head towards him. “Excuse me, what?”

Please reblog to support me and motivate me to write more content

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clarks-letterman · 2 years

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a summer's dream | peter parker x gender neutral!reader

a/n — hey y'all! found this in my drafts and since summer is coming up... (also, i haven't written rimming before sooo)

words — 1.53k (1,530)

summary — The heatwave in NYC urges you to relax in the Avenger's pool, where Peter comes out in nothing but a black tee-shirt.

warnings — smut! rimming (peter receiving), ambiguous reader (gender not specified)

~~~

The lack of a buzz grew increasingly apparent with each passing moment, a few clinks and whirs of each machine filling the what were otherwise scribblings made against every clipboard held by other researchers. Their labcoats forwent adding an extra layer to their work attire, striving to combat the sauntering journey of New York's latest heatwave. Of course, in the midst of this sultry weather and ardent state, the air-conditioner was the first to give up, its last few drawn-in breaths of the hot air outside causing it to sputter and cede to its killer. Thus, leaving the building and the ascent of its internal temperature to canicular delirium.

In the wake of all of this, you had trouble separating fact from fiction, as at one point, you could have sworn that the skin on your hands had started to bubble and boil with how superheated it was. But within seconds, it had simmered down, and your hands returned to a solid state. The budding fever urged you to the higher levels of the building, continually hearing the dreaded news ring throughout each floor that they suffered similar effects of the pullulating heat—wooziness and uncertainty running higher than the temperature ever could.

Your continuing journey to the floor above the next landed you at the highest entresol of the tower. As the elevator doors parted, you could see the sparkling blue water refract the sun's light with an unmatched chill as a few floaties gravitated toward the edge, acting as the silver lining to what was already a condensed cloud nine. It had completely slipped your mind that there was an infiltration mission today and that most—if not all—of the other members of the team would be out of the tower for days.

It must have been the daze that this heat set in motion, but that would soon fade away once you dipped your skin in and laze in safety from the sun with the refreshing reservoir situated right outside. Hurriedly, you paced to your room, digging out a pair of swim trunks before using the single piece of clothing to replace the rest of your outfit.

You strode out of the room and straight to the platform outside, the cool water embracing your skin as you took a seat on one of the steps descending to the bottom of the tiled floor. For a few moments, it was tranquil; the water only rippled when you let it and the city traffic coming from far below felt like a lifetime away. And there was a sense of comfort with a guard rail composed of solely glass and vibranium that was sure to catch anyone before plummeting to uncertain doom.

That was until one sole spider-boy stumbled out onto the deck, a black tee-shirt covering his upper body while nothing appeared to conceal the lower half. Everything leading up to his mid-thigh was visible to anyone watching, and the arachnid himself couldn't seem to care less.

The light pitter of his steps didn't phase you, but the splash of water that hit your body did. You looked over to see that Peter had flopped squarely onto one of the larger floaties in the pool, the airbed slowly moving towards the center of the natatorium as it reverberated his motions. As Peter coasted further away from the pool's edge, he neared the center, bringing with him the sight of something sweet. Peter's shirt faltered to drape over his lower half efficiently, the black cloth running just short of the rise from the small of his back to the two perfectly shaped mounds on his backside. They were perky and reflected how you expected them to look from the way they always filled out his khakis and denim pants.

As innocent as he looked lying there, an undercurrent of biting temptation subtly rippled through the air. Sure, Peter had been a bit more flirty recently, but he had never given any indication that he would do something this bold. Yet, he was this bold, facing away from you as his thumbs twiddled away at a pocketable device, his ass silently begging for the same attention that the front end of him was getting.

You chose to move towards him, making purposely loud splashes in the pool as you approached him to make him aware of your presence as if his spider senses wouldn't have already alerted him. After all, there was the slim chance that he hadn't even noticed you as you were sitting off to the side of the pool, keeping to yourself like how you did at most of the superheroes' pool parties. That would explain the sudden behavioral change, too.

But, nothing came from him. And as you rested against the inflatable bed that managed to support the both of you, the arachnid finally let the tension run through him. Peter was betting on your reaction, he wanted you to take the bait, and here you were: wading through the water like a hungry shark. All of the uncertainty phased out of him the second he felt your hands on his ass, and he knew his plan had worked. His length stiffened between the malleable plastic of the pool floaty and his stomach in a fearful eagerness of the aftermath of his plan.

His cheeks molded to your hands like two lumps of workable, limber dough, filling the space between your fingers as they dug into his backside. With his surprisingly soft mounds of muscle and fat conforming to your hands, you parted them to unearth the strawberry-pink ring, taut and wrinkled.

Your first move was to mark the area with a glob of spit before running the tip of one of your fingers over the hole, drawing circles around it and watching it quiver under your touch. Peter may have supplied the bait that lured you in, but you were controlling the line as he reeled you towards your desires. He sunk his face into his crossed arms that laid over the supple comfort of soft plastic and vinyl, already letting out a muffled noise akin to a moan. It was laughable at how juxtaposed he was to the way he was acting mere minutes ago, with his lower half and blase attitude about it simultaneously on display.

Peter let your desires rise to the surface as you chose to indulge yourself in his ass, sinking your head lower until you could catch hints of his musk—a fragrant mix of clean and natural scents with a tinge of chlorine wafting into your nose as one. You lavished at the smell growing stronger until your face pressed into the unfurled crack spread by your hands, laying a kiss on the pink pucker as your nose pushed into the northern end of his crevasse. His hole refused to give way to your tongue at the first attempt to penetrate the ring of sensitive nerves, urging you to pull back and do a bit more work with your vernacular muscle.

You took a broad lick between Peter's crack to tease him and his hole. Your tongue practically melded to Peter’s ass, almost like a heated spoon working through a pint of ice cream. Though what had presented itself was substantially better than any ice cream, this was a summer's dream, a perfect way to fend off the heat and delve into a world of passion. And after the first wide stroke, you traced his hole with the apex of your tongue, letting the warm and wet touch dance in circles over his pink ring.

Then, you jabbed your tongue at his hole, letting it sink into his ribbed heat. Peter buried his face into the plastic of the pool floaty, raising his hips to let your tongue go as deep as possible while your face went further between his asscrack. He had enough of the teasing and was ready to achieve his high with the man of his dreams.

Peter immediately rocked his hips back with desperation, letting the fabric of the black tee-shirt give enough friction to let out a load of creamy white coating the inside of his black shirt. His release was world-shaking, literally. He gripped the malleable plastic he rested on, feeling his hand slide across it from a bit of pool water splashed onto the floaty. Peter lost his grip on the inflatable pool toy, and his hand skated forward, knocking his phone into the water below him. He went to catch it, but it was already at the bottom of the pool once he realized what had happened.

Your tongue felt the reaction of his opposite end as the high of his climax and ensuing panic of dropping his phone in the pool. His walls tightened around your tongue before being pulled out as he lurched forward. Peter muttered something in defeat while he moved back onto the safety of his floaty. It was nice to know that this confident move hadn't changed who he was on the inside; he was still that clumsy nerd you loved.

You laughed as the Peter Parker you knew shone through at that moment, "I was that good, huh?"

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